A Day of High Exposure

The Seven and the Nine

The sun was drying the rocks, swiftly aided by the breeze. We walked the length of the cliff, and picked out climbs. There were bolts everywhere. They weren't visually obtrusive. However, some of them were located on routes which were perfectly protectable through normal means. We started on two of these; climbs rated 5.7 and 5.9, about twenty or so feet in height.

I led the seven with cams and nuts, though the holds were so good, it could have been soloed. Then I clipped the chain at the top, and downclimbed, cleaning the pro as I descended. In Connecticut, the climb might have been a 5.5, but many of the moves were four or three.

The nine had maybe one nine move, and even that was more like an eight to the extent one can base a rating on the hardness of a single move. I clipped bolts on that one, and it hardly felt like leading. There was no uncertainty. None of the questioning - would I find some pro, would my piece go in, would it hold; how could I conserve my energy so I could last through the climb? It was not toproping, either, because the climb was broken into staccato segments by the need to clip, interfering with the smooth progression of movement.

I watched from the bottom, photographing as the others climbed. I felt dissatisfied. I decided to try something really hard before the end of the day, and maybe then the experience would make sense. I must admit, my mind's eye was full of High-E. Perhaps this was unfair.

Mike can't wait for Eric to get the rock out of his shoe - he just has to sample this Safe Harbor 5.7


The author cruises the crux of a Safe Harbor 5.9	Mike watches his feet on a Safe Harbor 5.7