About the middle of last summer, I thought it was climbed out. I then stumbled upon some locals who were warming up on the Big Boulder. They introduced me to some new problems - all of which a spotter and crashpad, or two, are needed.
The lesson learned was I needed to start looking off of the trails. That led to several more trips rambling cross the park, some exciting slabby solos and a hidden project wall. I hadn't returned since late last year and was curious. More wanting to get some miles and elevation under me, I grabbed my climbing shoes as an afterthought, and I'm glad I did.
My goal was to explore neighboring Elephant Butte, a big mound with some interesting, rope-stretching slabs on it. I had once been on a trail in the western part of the park that led to a saddle, which would then lead to some reconnoitering. Well I got to the saddle but I never got to the western neighbor; there was plenty of granite goodness to be found.
The first problem was by happenstance. I thought about crossing over and heading straight up the butte at a point and stumbled across this, Naranja Obscura:
Some decent holds lead to a thin 1/2-fingertip flake that you hope won't bust. A delicate left-hand lieback to a gaston leads to a nice blob for your right. I'll be conservative and give it a V2. It is a highball that required a backwards au chevel to get off to downclimb terrain. Also if that flake blows, you're looking at either an ankle-breaker or a spine-snapper - depending on how committed you are in the move. Not having the crashpad actually made me more focused, so take it how you like.
Behind this first rock the slope drops off steeply to a creek. There was either too much or not enough snow - depending on how you want to look at it - to get across. There wasn't enough white stuff to bridge the creek without taking a dip and it was impossible to leap across with my legs postholed past my knees. Come spring it will not be an issue. And beyond that stream is the motherlode!
Or you could just keep going down the trail and not having to worry about getting wet. Doh!
Further up the trail near the saddle, I scrambled up a slab that was very reminiscent of Flatiron slabmongery. Above this stood a V3 12-footer, Powerpole Rock.
Nearby I took a break after some more slabbing.
Woodpecker
At the saddle I cut cross country again and came to Frailability:
I'll go another V2 though it might be tougher now. The name reflects the character of the rock. I had two consecutive footholds blow while I was in "it'll hurt to fall" territory.
A problem doesn't need to be tall to stymie me. Positive Illusion was one of those rocks you could easily pass by. But this bloody sharp and biting munchkin took me the most attempts to get up. Not much positive, not much feet and what was good was facing the wrong direction.
Neighboring slabs which will be fun friction testpieces once the seepage stops:
Near the log cabin, I just about passed by this tower before being beaconed. I don't know why it enticed me, maybe it was the first profile it showed resembled a tower; it could have been the texture of the work erosion committed pleased me, or it just could have been that it was tall. As I got closer, of course it grew. I steadied my breathing, felt the irrational fears dissolve and my focus sharpen.
Sorry Ma, I had to probably was no more than mid-fifth class, but it was also over 30 feet of soloing on some of the chossiest rock I've been on this side of Frisco Peak in the Cascades.
There were a couple of moments the mantra, "Please don't break" was repeated. It could probably done easier than the way I went (a right exit just past the flagpole pine lowers the grade significantly) but I honestly wouldn't trust the rock and going left felt more airy.
Sorry Ma, I had to
ARTIST OF POST - Chris Thomas King. Making sure the blues don't die out with this next generation blues guitarist.
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