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Moonlight Buttress, December, 2009 For my
second solo wall I chose a route that I’ve been sort of trying to do
for a couple of years. In 1996, I
planned a trip to Overall,
Moonlight is a great short wall.
The line is super clean, the belays are all pretty bomber, and the
scenery is amazing. Since I
hadn’t heard from my partner, I figured I was going solo, which was
just fine with me. I needed some
time to think and was looking forward to some time to myself and some good
hard climbing. I think that God
often gives us bookends to mark the periods in our lives. Touchstone two years ago was the
beginning of a lot of things that have been significant in my life since
then. Returning to Anyway,
the trip started as I intently peered at the weather reports on the net. As it turned out, mother nature may
have decided to make up for the cold spell two years ago and sent
unseasonably warm weather this time around. I hopped into the car in LA and made
tracks for the park. After an
uneventful night in the campground I headed over to the ranger station to get
my climbing permit and see if there was any available beta. The backcountry rangers don’t
know too much about climbing, but they do have access to a little black book
which contains topos and beta from past
climbers. Pretty darn good idea
– way better info than in the Bjornstadt
book. Day 0: Rope Fixing Armed
with the best the NPS had to offer I headed out to scope the route and haul
gear. I am officially the worst
route finder in the world and it took me a while to find what is probably the most obvious line in the canyon. Duh. Once I tracked it down I separated my
gear into two loads and made my way to the base of the climb. The approach to the base takes you
across the river (if you use the direct route). During the winter the water is super
cold but the flow is really mellow, so the crossing is pretty easy. After a couple of trips I managed to
get everything to the base. The
first pitch was the scariest of the climb, believe it or not. First, you have to get the bags pretty
high up the third class ledges, even if you’re using a 60m rope (which
I was, thankfully). Then, the
sort of free, sort of aid first pitch is pretty indistinct. It looks like you can go up a couple
of cracks, and the Bjornstadt guide shows a 5.8
ramp off to the left. It looked
to me like the easiest way up was a crack system off the left side of the
face but not as far over as the manky ramp. I headed up, traversing back and forth
to follow the line of least resistance.
The crux of the pitch was an airy free traverse from the flat top of a
column to the base a thin 5.7ish (yeah, right) crack. The pitch takes you across a face and
up about ten feet of pretty sharp huecos. I hate doing free moves with all my
aid gear, especially when soloing.
Between aiders hanging down to trip on, the gri-gri
getting hung up, the back up knot short-roping you, and all the gear jingling
and jangling and hooking it seems like there’s always something conspiring
against you. By the end of the
climb I was talking to my rack, just to make sure everybody was ready to go
before making any free moves.
“Everybody ready?
All systems go?”
Fortunately they never talked back. . . Anyway,
having passed the crux I headed up to the first anchor. I decided to fix the first pitch and
leave most of the bag and the rack up top. Then I rapped down, hiked back across
the river, cracked open a beer and hung out with some climbers as I prepared
for launching early the next morning.
They turned out to be pretty cool and kept exhorting me to BE
CAREFUL. Soloing is
dangerous. Hmmm. Anyway, as I fell asleep I struggled
with the role of climbing in my life and the shifting nature of priorities,
relationships, and religion. In short, I had the classic pre-wall jitters. Day 1: Great Climbing and
Reflection Four
o’clock in the morning came all too soon and I made some coffee and
oatmeal and savored my last hot meal for a while. I trudged over to the base in the
dark, crossed the oh-so-cold river to the base and jugged up in the gathering
light. Dawn was beautiful even as
nervous as I was. I got the bag
repacked, my anchor reset, and generally got set for the second pitch. “No reason to delay?” I
asked myself hopefully. Nope. Off I go… Number
two wanders up some fourth class ledges to hook up with a straightforward
crack. Don’t go up the
crack on the left, directly above the anchor, it leads to nowhere. The second pitch is pretty easy. The third pitch is the obligatory
rivet ladder. The topo I picked up at the visitor center called the manky rivets “fuked.” I’m not sure exactly the
derivation, but the rivets sucked.
No, really. Someone should
get on out there with a bolt kit, soon.
Bouncie bouncie on
the rivets, some sticking halfway out of the rock. Fortunately they all held and I made
it to the base of the fourth, whew. It’s
pretty easy to bail from here and I’d be lying if I told you that I
didn’t contemplate heading on home. But one of my greatest strengths as
a climber is a serious case of pig-headedness and I headed up the fourth
pitch, which is really a combination of the fourth and most of what used to
be the fifth. This is one of the
best pitches of climbing that I’ve ever seen. It is to finger cracks what
Reed’s Direct is to hand cracks. A couple of bolts to a perfectly
parallel finger crack. I wish I
could climb 5.12 because this would be an absolutely delicious pitch; but I
don’t and I off I sped on aid.
And so began the back-cleaning game. I had arrogantly brought only three
yellow TCU’s, two red TCU’s, and a miserable 1 orange TCU. What was I thinking? It’s entirely unclear at this
juncture. But I was stuck with my
little rack of finger sized cams and 200 feet of finger crack. Anyway,
I made it to the top of the fourth pitch and set up the first of the hanging
belays on the route. Here I had
an interesting decision. The
fifth pitch was long and I had to make it up before dark. This turned out to be the inflection
point of the route, from a timing perspective. If I made the top of five I could
probably make it off in two days.
But I didn’t relish climbing in the dark. Well, wall climbing is all about
calculated risks, so off I took on the fifth pitch. As good as the fourth pitch was, the fifth pitch was bad. Bad, bad, bad. It starts off with a continuation of
the finger crack; then traverses around a corner and into 30 or 40 feet of manky nightmare chimney; then 100 feet of battling
awkwardness until finally a roof to a fantastic belay. I got there at 4:00, about 45 minutes
before it got dark. This
belay is awesome! A ten foot
slanted ledge with bomber bolts all the way across and one bolt placed sky
high and just right for hanging a ledge.
I got the bags hauled (easy, despite the chimney) and the bivy set up in the darkening sky. I had brought my A5 double ledge and I
was reclining in style as the sun set.
I had some cold Chef B and a short discussion with the ledge, in which
it informed me that I had the wrong side set to the wall, could I please turn
it around? Soon I set about to
the task of the wall – some good hard thinkin’
and prayin’. The fact that it was pitch black by, oh, 5:30 gave me lots of time. I popped on the walkman, read a bit of
my journal and watched Orion rise across the desert sky. Author’s aside: I never knew
constellations actually rose, like the sun and moon. With no moon and no lights from any
town to speak of the sky was as beautiful as I’ve ever seen. Anyway, somewhere while reading my journal
I realized that it was my ex’s birthday, that night. Ha! How fitting. After lots of internal machinations I
finally drifted off to sleep with my Ki quite a bit
closer to center and my mind appreciating the beauty of God’s creation
and subtleness of His plan for my life. Day 2: Topping Out I had
been dreaming of the next pitch for a couple of days. The beta I pulled off the internet
informed me that pitch 6 was the “orange TCU” pitch. With my one
orange TCU I figured this was going to be a challenge. Apparently you can run 6 and 7
together, but with my skimpy rack I wasn’t about to attempt it. I headed up and managed to place a few
yellow aliens and a few nuts to start.
Then came the encore performance of the back
cleaning game. As it turned out,
the crack is super clean and has an occasional slightly larger cam or nut
placement. I fired in my lone
orange five times, and cleaned it five times. Soon I was at the belay and
reorganizing. Pitch 7 is a joy
and a nightmare all rolled into one.
It continues the finger sized cam placements of 4 and 6 and I kept up
the backcleaning game. But I was in a groove and started
smelling the top in a big way. I
wouldn’t have minded staying another night on the wall, but how cool
would it be to get off? Place,
clean; place, clean. Yee-haw, top
of seven and only two to go. It’s noon and summit fever is raging. Pitch 8
is a blur. The placements are a
little smaller than the past 400 feet, but generally pretty bomber. What I remember most about this pitch
is the belay – it’s great, in this weird rock that looks like it
might have had acne as a teenager.
The topo that I got from the visitor center
calls it the “swiss cheese” belay. It’s
2:30 and I decided that spending the night here was not an option. One pitch and plenty of time. The vast
majority of placements throughout the route were good despite the
sandstone. Pitch 9 was the
exception that proves the rule.
There are several loose placements here (although nothing terribly
exciting that you can’t get around), and I climbed with slightly less
abandon than had characterized the my approach to
the earlier sections of the route.
The fantastic route ends with the requisite silly run out face
climbing. “All systems go
boys? Green light.” Before I knew it I was on top. Yee-haw, I screamed, and the canyon
screamed back. What an amazing
feeling! For a brief instant, the
angst that I had been carrying around for two months dropped away and I felt
like I was, literally and figuratively, on top of the world. I set up
an anchor from a couple of trees and got the haul ready. The key piece of beta on this pitch is
to extend the haul over the edge.
By doing this you make the haul pretty easy – I managed to get
the bags up without rapping down to free them. As it grew dark I organized the rack
and gear and dragged the pig up to a flat spot on top of the column. I could see the descent and I settled
down for some Trader Joe’s chili and a good night’s sleep back in
the realm of the horizontal. Day 3: Descent The
descent from this route is cake (of course, my last descent was from the top
of At the
end of the day Moonlight Buttress was an awesome wall. The super clean line was really fun to
climb (for the most part :-) and the solitude and reflection winter in the
desert offered were just what my soul needed. Back to the grind and a bit of ice
climbing, it appears. Pitch By Pitch Beta: The
following is taken from a post by Brent Ware. Italics and mistakes are mine. River
crossing: It can be done at least up to 200 cf(s/m?
the ranger wasn't clear on the units), at knee height or so. Sandals are nice
for this. During the winter there is no issue – the water only comes up
to maybe your knees. Spring might
be a different story. It's
pretty obvious how to get to the base. Try to get your bags up to the highest
third class ledges. You can haul from the obvious lower ledge with the
climber-made stone wall with a 60m rope, but with a 50m you'll have to get
the bags higher. In any case, it makes for easier hauling to get the bags up.
I didn't; should have. I echo Brent’s view – get the
bags as high as you can get them!
I never found the stone wall, but I would have liked to get the pig
higher. As it turned out, my 60m
barely stretched to where I left them. PITCH 1 5.8+,
120' of climbing, 200' of hauling. Go way left, casual third class up ledges
to a friction slab in a corner, rope up and start climbing there. Drop the
haul line back down to your bags and haul straight up. Two good bolts and a
bomber big nut placement. Big stance belay. Easy haul, if you rig the haul
over the edge. The free moves are pretty easy. I went up the middle crack and
traversed around, which I don’t recommend. Do the ramp. PITCH 2 C1,
maybe 5.10ish (estimated). Take the second crack right of the belay, which
starts under a small roof. There is about 15 feet of third class scrambling
to get to the base of the right crack. The first crack (shown in the Bjornstadt guide) leads nowhere. Couple of easy free
moves at the end. Two good bolts here, big stance. Okay haul. Tough
to get back to the belay if you’re soloing. Lower out the bags or they’ll go
bouncing across the face. PITCH 3 C1, 5.6.
Bolt ladder with some free moves on big ledges. Semi-manky
pins and bolts on the ladder.
Drilled pins and good bolts at the belay. Stance belay on a 27" TV-sized
loose block held in place with chains. Okay haul. The
rivets on the ladder are as scary as I’ve ever climbed on and the
loose block is a carbon copy of the old death block from the Nose. I hauled and set up my anchor on the
ledge next to the death block rather than on top of it. PITCH 4 C1+. The
yellow Alien pitch. Straight-up crack in the dihedral. Lots of yellow Aliens
and TCUs.
Finger sized cams all the way up, with an occasional good nut
placement. This is the crux of the route, absolutely wonderful climbing. Belay 2/3s of the way up the dihedral
below the roofs on the left side, not the right as shown in the B. guide. At
least one good bolt here, sling belay. 50m pitch. Easy haul. The airiest belay of the route – 200 feet of finger crack below
you. PITCH 5 C1+.
Awkward aid in a chimney/overhanging corner. Varying sizes, yellow and orange
TCUs, .5 camalot seemed
to be very handy. This is p6 in the B. guide; apparently the p4 belay has
been moved higher, and p5 and p6 combined into one long pitch. This pitch sucks, no two ways about it. A few good moves lead you into the
chimney, where the less-than-fun groveling begins. Lots of good bolts at the belay,
very comfy belay ledge, okay bivy for one,
less-than-okay for two. The belay
is awesome if you brought your ledge – there’s a bolt placed high
enough to hang it from and the sloping rock ledge provides a perfect place to
get organized. Plan to spend the
night here! PITCH 6 C1. The
orange TCU pitch. 100' pitch to two star drives, a .5 camalot
crack, and an okay stance. Easy haul. This could be combined with the next
pitch using a 60m rope, barely. No way you could
make it with a 50m. The NPS topo
shows 6 and 7 as a combined pitch, but I still doubt that it would go. Fine belay, fun climbing. PITCH 7 C1.
Orange and yellow TCUs and nuts. 100' pitch to one
good bolt, two star drives, and a bomber big nut placement. Big loose blocks
sitting on the stance. A decent bolt about halfway up (an old anchor); at
this point I looked down and it looked like I had free-climbed this pitch,
20' runouts between pro. Easy haul. Ditto. Some backcleaning
and lots of finger sized cams PITCH 8 C1+. The
offset pitch. HB offsets and green Alien size. A very nice belay station,
lots of new bolts. Sling belay. Easy haul. I placed quite a few small nuts and
cams at the beginning of this pitch, but it gets wider toward the end and
into some more finger sized pieces.
Shorter, maybe 80’. PITCH 9 This pitch starts with medium
sized cams and larger nuts in chossy, grainy
placements. I had more pieces pop
when I bounce-tested them on this pitch than on all the other pitches
combined. After some choss, move through a pod with a few mandatory 5.9 free
moves to some more chossy aid. Then up and over a small lip to the
5.7 slabby run-out. I got in maybe two pieces of marginal
pro – move straight up, then traverse right on a footrail,
then hook up and left to top out.
Kind of lousy haul, make sure to extend your anchor over the edge; two
trees can be used an anchor. EOD RECOMMENDED RACK 1 blue
alien 2 green
aliens / blue metolius 4 yellow
aliens / metolius 4 orange
metolius / ?aliens 3 red
aliens / metolius 2 #0.5 camalots 2 #0.75 camalots 2 #1 camalots 2 #2 camalots 1 #3 camalot 2-3 sets
of nuts, especially larger sizes Standard
slings, biners, quickdraws,
etc. I brought my hammer to use
for cleaning and was very glad I did.
I think maybe metolius cams stuck better in
the sandstone than aliens (although I am an alien fanatic in granite). No pins, heads, etc. necessary or even
possible; I brought my hooks but was never tempted to use them. In general, there is not much fixed
gear on the route, very few bolts except for the ladders on 3 and the
beginning of 4 and at the anchors.
Looks like at least one new 3/8 inch bolt in just about every anchor. Descent
via the West Rim trail – super easy; drop down and cross the river at
first opportunity. I left my car
.1 mile South of the climb and had quite a bit of walking on the road from
the river crossing on descent back to the car, past Weeping Rock, etc. |