tripreport05juneclimbingtripindex

The Fifth Annual Redneck Climbing Rendezvous: Off to Yankee-Land!!

By: Matt Talley

This Year’s Cast of Characters – as listed by their aliases:

The Sleepy Weasel: Notorious for sleeping while driving, a skill that he isn’t that proficient at in the first place - Almost killed his commanding officer in Iraq while “not” sleeping behind the wheel of a US Army Hummer. Strongest /lightest climber in the group and either has the biggest balls on route of the least sense... Loves Techno music and believes that the iPod will be known as the single greatest advancement of the 21st Century.

Taint: A native son of California. Strong sport climber, but easily confused by tri-cams. A world traveler who needs 12 hours of sleep a night to function and has absolutely no short term memory - none. An easy target for pranks and very poor at retaliation. He would loan one the money for a quality hit-man if the need was valid and may even help you bury the body if called late one night.

Toes: A great climber and climbing and thinker with the ability to talk to anyone. Would do absolutely anything for a friend, has a +4 ape index, and is a good natured liar: When Toes states ability for something, double it! He sandbags his competence on the rock and on the trail. If asked, he is “a 5.8 climber” but in practice he will work 5.11+ problems that are soaking wet and slippery with moss and slime and send the crux after a couple of tries… Banned from eating high fiber foods and from saying the word “casual” in the presence of those who really know him. Incredibly cheap!!

Ginger Spice: A bright, smart, pretty, and worldly woman who is the only living soul that can stand Toe’s, foul odors, his women’s tights, and his odd friends for days at a time. She is his climbing partner and girlfriend and is the giver of cookies and Gatorade when they are needed most!

Wrong Way Talley: A decent climber and father to two wonderful children. The world traveling, tattooed, perverse, short, balding, slightly hairy, practical joking chronicler of this tale who now lives near the beach in Southern California. Can get himself and others lost in his own back yard – That really happened…

Our little Group: The Sleepy Weasel's back, Wrong Way, Toe's funny hat, Ginger Spice, Taint, and Toes.

Every year for the last five, our little group of friends plan a get together that enables us to all assemble, climb some world class routes, summit a mountain, get wet in a river or lake, laugh, eat good food, and drink a few beers. Toes planned last year’s trip and it was an amazing success. I took the reigns this year and started gathering information and ideas last October. I wanted this trip to be all that Toe’s trip was with a few of my own twists thrown in. After some deliberation and conversation it was decided that the East Coast would be best suited for our needs. We planned to climb in the Shawengunks, somewhere in New Hampshire, a river was picked to canoe , a peak ascent was planned, and a possible parachute jump was penciled in.

Everyone was invited, but some had to withdraw due to work, other trip conflicts, school, or because of family commitments. I sent the schedule of the trip's events around a couple of months before we were to leave and Toes and Ginger Spice stepped up and worked out a lot of the lodging details for the first leg of the trip that I hadn’t gotten to yet.

We all flew into the Newark Airport on Friday night, gathered our bags, grabbed a bite to eat and headed north for three days of climbing at the ‘Gunks. Below is a photo journal of the trip. There was so much that happened I thought it best given the time that I have available to just touch on some of the trips highpoints, critters, low points, fun, and surprising moments.

The bluff line that makes up the Near Trapps climbing area at the Gunks.

We had an unexpected off day and a day not spent hurting one’s self is a day of life wasted for Toes. He was like a pent-up, caged puma and we though it best to get him out of camp and into nature before he ate one of us. We drove around and I got us lost a couple of times (I feel that I need to point out that my two navigators were very poor in the way-finding department). It took a while, but we finally found a dry trail. The clouds parted while in route and this is the New York sky that greeted us from a high point on the trail.

We learned a valuable lesson our first morning in the Gunks – The carriage road at the base of the cliff is SO much better than following the face of the cliff band while looking for specific routes. This is a picture of Taint and I before we got on our very first route of the trip and after we had walked for an hour looking for a certain route. He was so excited about getting to climb that he let is guard down and almost let me take advantage of him… At least the moment is captured forever on film!

Our first belay ledge of the trip about 150’ up on the rock face. The forest below was so beautiful and there were little lakes and ponds that dotted the green landscape.

Toes… Here he is on belay using his third and fourth hands to both steady himself on his perch and to hold onto his daisy-chain absent-mindedly. His phalanges are as long as my fingers, he can pinch you and leave a bruise, and he can throw rocks with dead-on accuracy. During this trip he slipped off a sandal, found a suitable stone the size and shape of a cell phone and chunked it thirty feet, very narrowly missing Taint's man-parts.

Here I am going over the exact route of a “5.6” that Taint and I had just climbed. When hopping on the route, The Sleepy Weasel mentioned that we should, “Bring your balls.” What?! On a 5.6? Yeah right. We just thought he was screwing with us. He wasn’t! The Gunks are REALLY sandbagged as far as the ratings go. Add a 1 or 2 to any rating the guide book gives you and if it notes, “Possibility of ground fall or injury,” you’re might die, get your affairs in order.

I am not sleeping, I am belaying Toes on a route. I got in trouble for belaying on my back in a gym earlier this year. A gym worker really gave me some grief about how dangerous it is and how I was going to snap my back if the leader fell. While I can see some merit in his argument, those blocks were set up perfectly – just like a recliner, so that is how I used them.

This is us (Ginger Spice took the picture) the second Morning on the Carriage Road discussing the plan for the day. Why is it that I look like a pack mule? I have been thinking about it and either I bring too much crap or I get loaded down with everyone else's gear. Hmmmm...

Toes on the top of a route looking all manly! This was the top of the bluff line which offered such a great view of the country side.

There were MILLIONS of these millipedes on the trail, in the trees, and on the rocks when we arrived. I guess we caught the mating season or some other bug festival. They freaked us out a little because they looked primeval and like they would hurt like Hell if they latched on. We were told that they were harmless by a local, but still watched them with a concerned eye for the rest of our time there. We also arrived during prime snake season – my least favorite living thing – a guy got bit by a copperhead our first day there in an area I had been standing in. I was not a happy little camper. I hate snakes – hate ‘em!

Taint hopping on a 5.10 on our last day in the Gunks.

This is me checking the instructions for my food – add boiling water, how hard could it be… This photo was taken at our second camping area of the trip. Normally during road trips, we just sort of Forrest Gump our way along and end up with killer camp sites and meet good people along the way. Ginger Spice got a little worried and reserved a site for us across the road from the Orange County Choppers motorcycle shop that has a reality show on TLC. We got there late and were greeted by a very drunk/high woman that was still awake when we got up the next morning and again when we were done with climbing that day. The place gave us a “Meth-Lab vibe.” At the top of a route that first day Taint and I hooked up with some semi-locals that told us about a parachuting school near the crags that had a campground that we could probably use. When we got back to our first camping area that night and found that our greeter was still up and talking at 50MPH, we tore down camp and headed off to the jump school. We camped there free for three nights and three of us made a parachute jump on the last day. There was music and bonfires every night and our tents were up out of the swamp during about 12 hours of rain. It was a killer place to stay!

Toes and Ginger Spice in an aspen glade on a hike to a waterfall on our rest/rain day. Taint and The Sleepy Weasel went on ahead to get into their own trouble and the three of us took it easy and enjoyed the trail and scenery.

Taint posing in front of the falls. They dropped a total of about 100’ onto a shallow rock strewn pool and rumbled more than they roared. They were very pretty and could be romantic with the right company. Taint was not the right company for any of us to feel romantic with.

This is a picture that Ginger Spice took from the ground ofTaint and I were coming in to the landing zone. Nine jumpers and a pilot were wedged into a tiny plane and shot up to 13,000’ before the door was opened. We had to jump tandem, but it wasn’t too bad. Taint had a video done and had to put on a brave face the whole time. The Sleepy Weasel was off to US Army Jump School after this trip and was doing the jump for fun and preparation. He didn’t make a peep and was as happy as a pig in slop as I exited the Buddy Holly-Killer plane. My mad-Ukrainian jump partner and I were the first ones out the door and then Taint and his jump partner exited along with his videographer. TSW was the last one out.

Another shot of us coming into the Landing Zone at the Parachute School (The Ranch) near New Paltz, New York. The jump was over and done with too quickly and we all wanted another go. Shortly after the jump, we said goodbye to New York and headed north to New Hampshire to climb at Rumney.

Taint sitting at the first pitch anchor on a route during our first day at the Gunks.

Me with the New York State landscape unfolding behind me. We were about 150 feet up on the rock face when this shot was taken.

New York State was really beautiful when we were there: the trees were green and tiny ponds and lakes pocketed the forests.

This is me (bald spot shinning!) at the top of High Exposure (5.7), which is an awesome route and very aptly named. Everyone on the trip got on the route and was moved by it in some way. It wasn’t really that hard of a route, just VERY committing. Once you pull yourself out from under a roof and up onto a face, there s nothing under your feet for 200+ feet and you have to move and place gear to get to the top. It was my favorite route of the whole trip!

This is a picture of Sky Top taken from about halfway up on the Near Traps cliff. The area looks amazing and I have a guide book for it, but it is closed to climbing and on private property. What a shame… Why we should all give all that we can to groups like The Access Fund.

Rumney, New Hampshire was a shorter area in height and had fewer total routes than the Gunks, but routes there were quality and the ratings were not as severe and more along the lines of what we were all used to. The stone there was full of Muscovite Mica That had been twisted and turned by time and preshure. The rock shimmered with gold colored flakes in the sun.

There was a route way off to the left side of the second crag that we climbed on that was wet and slimy and full of green old-growth moss. It was bolted and had a 5.11 rating on it, but I am thinking that rating was only good during the two months a year when the route was dry. This was not one of those times. Toes hopped on it with a top rope and worked and worked it until he pulled through the crux. For some reason he gets up each morning and forgets how strong of a climber he really is.

This is a close up of him working between the 1st and 2nd bolt on that wet, nasty route. Toes has crazy reach with his arm and legs and is seen here putting his “lower fingers” to use on a feature. I also need to note that Toes was in tights for this picture and everyone of us was subjected to viewing his man-junk as he stretched and reached for this hold or that. It has scared me…

This is the front arch of the hostel that we stayed at while we climbed at Rumney: D Acres Organic Farm and Homestead. It was the only lodging that I made in advance as it was purported to be hippie-commune-ish and 5 miles from the crag. It was a working organic farm, they had tent platforms, and a shower somewhere according to the website. How could I pass an experience up like that?

Our first clue that our new found little home was not quite as altruistic as their website lead one to believe was the size and construction of their community center/hostel. The thing was huge and equipped with the best of everything: stainless steel kitchen, an amazing shower, hardwood throughout, a full wood shop, etc… Don’t get me wrong there were some Green & Crunchy touches: composting toilets, they recycled, lots of bikes for commuting into town, they reused old wood and lumber, had an efficient heating system, a really nice solar system, and a library filled with outdoor, alternative living, farm and craft books.

Toes and I were both farm kids and we took a tour of their “farm” the day before we left. We came away from that tour with a couple realizations: They really don’t do much farming for profit, it is more of a farming experiment and they waste a lot of time, money, and effort doing things the “natural” way. Work on the farm could still be done without tractors, chainsaws and fertilizers. One of the things that intrigued me initially about their farm was the use of oxen instead of a tractor. I have been interested in this for years and wanted to see it in action. Again, the truth wasn’t as I had pictured it in my mind. The team was used for pulling logs and a weighted sled to keep the trails clear in the winter and relied on for fertilizer for the fields and gardens. Instead of clearing a field for crops with an axe and hand saws, pulling the stumps and land-planning it with the oxen, they were letting goats and pigs do the work for them. The former method would make it so that they have air able land for hay and crops within a year and provide them wood for heating and furniture making for the next 4-5+ years. The pig/goat option would take fifteen years and all the quality lumber on the land would be useless and rotten. That just isn’t good use of time and resources.

There was a little something that tickled us everytime we drove back to D Acres from the crag... See the picture above. Notice anything out of place? Click on it. We laughed too...

We unloaded the gear from the rental van that first morning at Rumney , threw it on our shoulders and hiked a little ways up the trail before getting on some really quality rock. It was cold that morning, but as soon as the clouds started moving out the temperature shot up and we were inundated by mosquitoes. We also hooked up with a Colorado climber on an extended road trip, who we climbed with for a couple of days.

This is a 100% completely unposed picture of The Sleepy Weasel looking all manly and rope gun-ish on route. He got on some gnarly stuff during the trip and was the uber-hiker during “The Death March.”

As I mentioned before I hate snakes. This is the area where the second sighting happened. It was a good area full of 5.10s and 5.11s, but I was butt-hurt for our first hour there and real jumpy the whole time becouse of that vile creature. Taint and TSW are getting ready to hop on a nice 5.10 in this picture.

No feet and chalking up… This is a 100% completely posed picture of me on a 5.10a. It was a really juggy route that lent itself to the taking of hero pictures. The rub, however, was that the photographer took so damn long to get the shot that I almost took a fall. This area was so full of mosquitoes that we almost inhaled them. There were two bottles of bug dope used and Taint and TSW found a spot where the blood suckers ate DEET like honey.

This one wasn’t staged. Taint caught me in the middle of clipping my rope into a draw. Textbook technique if I do say so myself…

Toes working on the above mentioned wet and nasty 5.11. He really was very impressive and focused on this route and I have no doubt that he could send it on lead in dry conditions.

Taint on a pretty overhung 5.10 at Rumney.

As a “rest day” I was looking for a peak for us to ascend during the planning phase of the trip when I ran upon a website detailing someone’s trip log on something called The Presidential Traverse. I was intrigued. It is a hike that takes you over nine peaks in 19.8 miles with a total elevation gain of over 9,000 feet. One of the peaks was Mt. Washington – the tallest peak east of the Mississippi River. It “could be” done in a long day and would be one hell of a scenic walk!! I got a book and maps and it was a go. We camped out in soft grass at the base of Mt. Madison the night before and got started about 5:30AM. The Sleepy Weasel weight around 120 pounds and is a fast hiker, so he left us about halfway up the trail. We topped out on a little ridge a started down. We were 100 below the summit of Madison before we realized that we had missed stopping and enjoying it.

The hike was brutal and followed the Appalachian Trail and the Crawford Notch Trail for most of the traverse. The trail is rocky and unforgiving. We passed three huts and countless hikers. We were the only party that day doing the whole traverse. Most people do it in two or three days and stop for the night at the huts. When we mentioned our route and plans, the other hikers would look at us all crazy and mumble something about “The Death March” before backing away from us slowly. What?! We were just out for a “casual” little stroll… We made it in something like 15.5 hours and were really tired, but the scenery was outstanding and it the weather couldn’t have been better. We could have done it faster (The Sleepy Weasel could be sub-12 hours) with less gear and less time at the different summits.

This is such a great picture. It was taken on the trail up to Mt. Madison. I look like a hobbit standing next to Toes. Actually, I am standing in a dish and he is on a bump and the rock rises in his direction. He isn’t really two feet taller than me.

This picture gives you a good idea of what the entire trail looked like. Rugged, but well marked.

We have another buddy, Catfish, that couldn’t join us on this trip that hates cairns (piles of rocks people use to mark trails). He will walk twenty feet out of his way to kick one over, saying that they ‘ruin the solitude of the outdoors’. There has been many a time that I was thankful for a cairn when I was lost or looking to stay on a trail so, I leave them be for the most part. Not Catfish. The cairns on the Presidential Traverse would have been his worse nightmare. There were a couple over eight feet tall – the snow gets deep up there in the winter – We all joked that he would have had many restless night filled with dreams of cairns that he left still standing if he would have been there. At the time we were all worried about him because he was on a trip that cold have proved lethal for him and none of us had heard from him in a number of weeks. Laughing about him helped with that worry (He turned out to be fine).

This was taken from a snow field and looks back on Madison, a lake in the saddle and the Madison Hut. We couldn’t have asked for a clearer day.

Taint, Toes, The Sleepy Weasel and I on the summit of Mt. Eisenhower.

The whole group on the summit of Mt. Washington. TSW was there an hour and a half before us, partially due to me getting us lost on the trail and us walking half way around the mountain before going up. Ginger Spice did some sight seeing during The Death March and had warm cookies and cold Gatorade waiting for us when we got to the finish line. I will always love and admire her for that…

TSW pointing out the ridge that we were going to follow to on the last half of the traverse.

Ginger Spice snapped this picture of her man shortly after getting back to the van after the hike. We all just passed out.

Three very tired little campers. Ginger Spice caught us napping on our way to the Canadian border crossing.

The welcome to Canada/Welcome to Quebec sign that greeted us as we drove up from New Hampshire on a sunny summer day for no other reason than to have lunch in another country.

We stopped for lunch in the small town of Magog (nice little place that I highly recommend as a day trip from Rumney if you are climbing) and in addition to a veritable parade of locals we saw this taxi. Look closely at the passenger side, rear window and then click on the picture. That is want I want in a taxi driver: A NASCAR fan!!

It was getting super-late and our plan to camp “an hour or two from the airport” wasn’t really working out. It seems that any campground with in a days driving of Newark is chained shut come dark as to deter the criminals and perverts. We really didn’t want to get a room, but things were getting desperate and all of us were getting sleepy. We stopped at a couple of places, but they all wanted $200+ a night for us to stay there for what would amount to 5 hours. In hind sight we should have paid the fee…

We finally found a little place that looked OK and Taint went in to see about the price. He came out saying it would be $90, but it was cash only and the manager wanted us to take a look at it before we agree to take the room as there were “no refunds.” Taint looked and said it would do. So we paid the fee and walked in mass to the door. It was like a National Lampoon movie: The camera pans from horrified face to horrified face and then the screen shifts to the mother of nasty bad hooker motel rooms. There were huge stains on the dirty green carpet, both beds were deeply sunken in the middle, one bed was broken from its frame, there was filth and god knows what else staining the comforters, empty liquor bottles and a condom wrapper under the bed and scum in the toilet and tub that would make any janitor on earth cringe. The stuff had to have been growing there for years. No one wanted to touch anything. We had to sleep and we had already paid our money, so I spread the towels of questionable cleanliness on the floor and put down my sleeping pad and bag and the others put their tent fly on top of the stripped beds and slept in their sleeping bags as well. We all half expected a hooker to knock on the door in the middle of the night looking for customers. Instead, I had a roach the size of a rat crawl across my face at 0 dark-thirty. I was not amused and as soon as the sun came up, we were out of there, all of us feeling extra-dirty! I highly recommend that if you ever travel through the Newark area, that you keep driving instead of stopping for the night and running the risk of catching something that soap and water won’t wash of or finding yourself the victim of some crazed motel slasher.

After dropping Toes and Ginger Spice off, the remaining three of us decided to take a day trip into Manhattan for some quick tourista-style sightseeing. We let TSW drive and in a matter of three minutes on the island, he turned into a hardened, grizzled New Yorker Cabbie: he cussed, honked, cut people off, parked illegally, used the rental-van bumper as a persuasion tool, and ignored traffic lights and street signs. Taint and I sat and watched in awe, when we weren’t cringing on the floor of the van, praying for deliverance. All said, TSW did navigate just fine there and he did get us back to the airport on time, that doesn’t mean that I would let him drive my grandmother to church though…

To the left you will find pictures of Taint and TSW at the tip of Battery Park with the Statue of Liberty behind them. There is a shot just like this of me, but it was really bad – it made me look crazy-fat, so I left it out.

The sign on the bottom was taken just as we were leaving Manhattan Island, amid the blaring of horns. How exactly do they enforce this?