Pitch 6 was the beginning of the hard climbing…different maps called this pitch anything from C2+ to A4. This pitch is the classic example of why aid ratings are so fungible. The pitch started out with 90 feet of bomber yellow alien placements, one after another. So I started the leapfrogging game…over the 90 feet I got a couple big nuts and a couple red alien placements, but I had something like 20 foot runouts between placements. Because the Zion rock is so friable, I really doubt whether they would have held a long fall. But all the placements were totally bomber (reminiscent of the cam walk pitch on Zodiac, just smaller cams). So what should the pitch be rated? A1 because the placements are all good? A4 because I was looking at 80 foot fall potential? I’d go the C2+ that it got on rec.climbing, I guess. But I was gripped by the time I started getting some stuff I could leave. Anyway, after the initial section, it narrowed down to green aliens and medium sized nuts, which I cruised to the belay. Quick easy haul and I was ready for the hard stuff.

Pitch 7 is technically the crux, I think. I’d go C3 for this pitch, for the fall potential and the level of difficulty. I had been dreading this pitch for 24 hours and the time of reckoning was at hand. I racked up and took a real deep breath. Off I went. The pitch starts off thin, and I climbed gently, concentrating on making sure my systems were smooth. A few small nuts got me to a couple of decent rivets which led up and around the first of two detached blocks. I negotiated that section well and moved up to the second and larger of the two blocks, called the Amoeba. This is a really cool feature…it literally looks like someone has taken a piece of silly putty or clay the color of sandstone and pasted it to the wall. Only the silly putty happens to be about 10 feet long and 6 feet wide. The whole thing is loose, with a suitcase sized block sitting on top that you can move around with one hand. Anyway, a couple good placements below the block got me to it, and I was determined not to put any small nuts behind the Amoeba. Fortunately there is a rivet placed just to the side of the block. I top step funky chicken free moved and managed to clip the rivet. Whew. Shift over gently and peer at the crack above the block. Hmm, I think, thin but doable. How do I get there? I need one placement behind the top of the Amoeba, avoiding the minideathblock on top. I put in a medium sized nut and weight it a little to settle it as the Amoeba flexes a bit. It actually turns out pretty stable and I rock onto the nut, gently move up in my aiders, and place a, what else? small offset nut in the crack above. Bomber. I am feeling good but realizing that the pitch ain’t a-over yet. I get in a nice cam, maybe a red or yellow, backclean the offset (might need that later), and start moving up on small pieces. A couple placements up I come to a thin, grainy bulge. I get high in my aiders searching for something good without success. Finally I get a blind blue alien way up and behind the bulge. I weight it gently. Shift. Shit. Bouncie, bouncie. Hmm, guess it’s okay after all. I move up until the piece is at eye level, while it spits grains of dark, dirty sandstone at me. Just as I get to the point where I can take a good look at the piece (bad idea) it starts to slip and slide. So here I am, a few thin pieces and a good cam between me and this nasty loose block, and my little alien is sliding ever so slowly toward the base of the crack. Somewhere in the distance I can almost hear the Amoeba chuckling. SHIT. Oh SHIT. I whip out the offsets and fire the small one, the #3 into the crack above the piece. It fits. Well. In the time it takes to breath I say a little prayer of thanks and hop on it, not bothering to bounce it. The alien spits one final clump of sandstone at me and I backclean it. I sit on the offset for a minute getting my head back. The crack widens up a bit and I get some good stuff up to the mandatory free, which turns out to be really easy. I clip the anchors and let out a primal scream of joy. The Valley echoes an answer. The top of this pitch is when I really started to feel good, to get that feeling of accomplishment and peace and fulfillment that I so seek in my climbing. Yee-Haw.

After the emotional roller-coaster of the seventh pitch and feeling as good as I do, the 8th pitch seems like it must be trivial. And it is. A short section of 5.6 wandering gets me to a pretty easy C1 crack to a couple free moves to a mantle and I clip the bolts, on a great ledge. Here I will spend the night. But I kindof have a choice to make. There are two finishes, the original, which is grainy and meandering, and the "Jarrett Finish" which is wide and more direct; the former takes off from a ledge to the right of where I am, the latter to the left. Huh. I gander at the pitches and at the ledges and decide for now that Jarrett looks better (and not that wide!). A haul and a quick set up and I am ready to start settling in. What a great night! The moon is full and I am totally psyched. The wall has gone well, the crux is behind me, the summit is almost mine, and I am totally stoked on life. I treat myself to an extra pudding and a snickers bar for dessert and drift off to sleep cozy and totally, absolutely, ultimately content.

Wherever you go, go with all your heart..
            -- Confucius

Day 3: Topping out
I woke early, just as the sun was beginning to warm the valley. The night had been just as cold, but my being in my sheltered alcove and having the ground beneath me instead of the wind made it seem a lot warmer. My heart felt about three sizes large (Well...in Who-ville they say /That the Grinch's small heart /Grew three sizes that day!). I ate, cleaned up, and stood gazing across the canyon and the walls. In some way I felt like I was seeing them for the first time, the amazing colors and the grandeur and size of it all. Pause. Time to climb.