A Day of High Exposure
Second pitch
Mike was the perfect partner. We were both calm, checking each other on each of the things that had to be done. We spent time getting the rope out of the crack and carefully rearranging it for the next pitch so it would feed smoothly. I was pleased to see how Mike was dealing with things. This would be the tallest and most complex climb he had ever done. It would have been understandable if he were frightened. But he seemed relaxed. I knew that part of this was his trust in me, and that made me careful.
It was time to go. I couldn't recall if the traverse began from this ledge, or higher. I decided to go up first, then traverse. If I could get some pro in the crack above the belay, it would help ease the strain in case I fell near the start of the traverse.
Last conference before departure. Cool, quiet tones. I thought of airline pilots on the flight deck before takeoff "...if an engine shuts down before V1, I'll throttle everything back; if there's a failure at V2, you back off the failed engine and we'll try for a low angle takeoff..."; but this was the cliff, so the terms were different..."OK, I'm going to have to climb up over you for the first part of this. If I fall before I get some pro in, we've got the belay rigged so it will pull you in toward the crack and upward the same way you're facing. But I might hit you with my feet, so face in close until I start the traverse. Make sense?"
"Yeah, everything looks good here. Let me check the biners... OK, they're locked, rope's all set. You're on."
I checked the rack again. "Climbing."
"Climb."
Up the crack until my feet were above Mike's head. I locked off to try to place a cam, but nothing was large enough. Already I wished I had the two larger cams left behind in the belay crack. Oh, well.
"I'm pushing on, there's nothing here."
A little further up, and the red Camalot's in. Time to start the traverse, I think, but there's really no sign. I just hoped the pro was plentiful enough that the traverse would be safe for both me and Mike... after all, the leader has to protect the second on a traverse. I know how important that is, from all the times I was a second, and from my occasional pendulum falls.
About twenty feet from the last pro, most of it horizontal. This is not good. I go back, searching under low ledges for anything. Finally, there's a slot for a Metolius, and now I can continue.
"Watch out for the wasps!" Mike called. I could see them, spiraling around the end of the traverse. "I see them!"
Above us, to the left, on Modern Times, a party of Canadians called out in French, and clapped, setting off a flock of pigeons.
I started upward, heading for the giant High-E belay ledge, away from the wasps. The move off the traverse was a bit thin, but some stemming and careful footwork got me up a bit. This was good six, but no pro. I tried going up and down several times, hoping to get something. I was about five feet right from the last, and about to go ten or more but there was nothing. Well, I decided to take the risk. After all, I had been practicing downclimbing for quite a while; I might need it today.
Through the small crux, and then some pro. Things were pretty mellow now, the climbing about 5.3 or 5.4. The view was spectacular. I could just see the top of Mike's head far below. To my left, the spectacular impending wall led up to Modern Times, where the bearded Canadian perched, occasionally clapping his hands to frighten off the pigeons. Beyond, the sweep of the cliff led out to where the sun cast shadow across autumn canopy of the plain below. To the right, the arete of the High-E buttress and the sky beyond. I knew the images of this would remain in my mind forever.
At last I put my hands on the edge of the famous belay ledge. I mantled onto its dusty surface and stumbled slightly over to the large stones that reclined beneath the overhang. The rock rose up and curled over me like a wave waiting to break.
I put slings and pro onto the boulders. Then it was time. "Mike Schreck!" I yelled. We always used last names in crowded spots like the Gunks, to prevent confusion. "You're on!" Faint from below. "Climbing!" "Climb!"