Bunny Climbing 4-24-2011

The Basics:
Stone Mountain is in North Carolina. It's an hour and a half west-ish from King, where I live. Max and Christy are climbers that I met at Pilot Mountain and again at the climbing gym. We've been coordinating climbing together here and there, and they invited me to go climbing with them at Stone Mountain. This was advertised as a multi-pitch climb, (whatever that is, I thought) and I needed to bring my rope. This little adventure was also planned to happen on Easter Sunday.






Before the Climb:

Max

 

I was excited about this event all week. I've been climbing outdoors since early February (North Carolina weather is amazing) at Pilot Mountain, but that was a short drive and moderate hike to a very accessible climbing area. No big deal, leave whenever.

This trip was an event, all day, full dedication, every person is important and integral to the climb. When you stop, you stop in the middle of the face of the mountain. To mark this occasion, I decided I needed to get little Easter things for myself and fellow climbers. I bought sheets of foam and headbands to make bunny ears. I imagined us, as bunnies, climbing this mountain as an amazing absurdist statement. I wasn't sure if they'd go along with it, but it was worth a shot. I knew I'd have a good time regardless.

Christy

 

The morning of the climb I packed up my sandwiches, trail mix and gear and headed to town, to meet them at a grocery store parking lot. They rolled up moments after I had parked. Perfect. I transferred my pack to their car and presented my bunny ear idea. They were all for it!

We drove and chatted, the drive made short by good company. We arrived at Stone Mountain's parking lot and sorted through our stuff, putting on harnesses and weeding out anything we didn't need. Equipped with a backpack each and bunny ears, we walked up the road, through a settlement-historical attraction, filled out our climber form and prepared to climb.

Max Leading

First Pitch:
The plan was to have Max lead climb to the first pitch. This stretch of climbing ended in a place called the "Tree Ledge". We went up "Block Route" meaning there is a block you have to climb on top of to make it up. Once he was over the block, he would then anchor himself to a tree, set up a simple pulley system, and belay me while I climbed up, dragging my rope behind me. Then, I would anchor in, belay and Christy would follow on my rope.

Max Belaying

The first part of this went along swimmingly. Max made it up to the tree ledge with a little nervousness, but was successful. I sorted out my shoes and pack and tied myself into the two ropes. The climbing is "slab" climbing. Usually when people think of climbing, they think of wall climbing which goes straight up. Slab climbing is closer to climbing a 45 degree ramp, with much more subtle holds.

Me climbing, Max belaying

Each slight indent in the rock became an essential foothold. The entire climb was on my toes, hands trying to palm the rock face in front of me. Once I got past the tree, the nearly smooth expanse seemed not to have any clear paths. I followed a seam in the rock off to the left, away from my destination. I kept getting higher up the face, but no closer to the tree ledge. I stopped and asked where I should be going. I had wandered off-route. I reassessed and worked my way over toward the block. Suddenly, I was struck with nervousness and fear. "My shoes won't hold. I'm going to slip." No matter what I did, I couldn't get these thoughts out of my head. As I stalled on the face Max tried to take up the rope, tugging at me to continue. I began to move again, but misstepped and slipped, penduluming at the end of the rope, sliding across the rough stone, scraping skin off, and somehow, riding my backpack most of the way until I managed to stop. Christy says it was only at this point, when I had finished my ride, did I scream "Fuck!"

FUCK!

My heart was racing and I felt shaky. I wanted to sit for a moment, but I still was not directly under my rope. Max and the rope were up and to my right. If I were to sit back on the rope, I'd continue my swing even further down. I had to keep going. My climbing partners asked if I was okay. I got my footing again, trying to kneel to get back on my feet, but finding my knees had been scraped raw, and resumed climbing. I cheated a little and grabbed the rope when the rock seemed to be too vague to get a good grip. When I got to the block Max had to pull me up with the rope. After that it was a short walk to the tree ledge. I clipped into the tree that Max was anchored into and sat for a moment. "Can you belay for Christy?" I didn't feel like I should do anything that important just then. Max agreed, switched ropes, and belayed Christy while she climbed up.

Max belaying for Christy while I recovered.

While Christy made her way to the ledge I sat and recovered. Eventually I pawed through my pack to retrieve water. When packing for the trip the night before I opted not to bring my first aid kit. I never used it anyway. Ha! Instead I pulled out trail mix and half a sandwich to eat. After Christy joined us we sat for a bit, enjoying the day. I'm pretty sure they both thought I'd want to go back, but I was determined to make it to the top. They had also said that each pitch was easier than the last, and we had just climbed the hardest part.






Second Pitch:

Looking up the Great Arch

Max Climbing...

I was getting ready to pack up everything when I realized I had hand sanitizer and napkins. I squeezed out a bit and dabbed it on my raw, bloody knees. Ouch. Nothing like alcohol on raw flesh to get you motivated. We left two of the packs at the tree ledge, figuring that only climbers would happen by, and they wouldn't take anything. With food and gear in the last pack, we started the next pitch, Max leading, me following and trailing rope, Christy bringing the pack.

...Me Belaying

Climbing the crack

Climbing the second pitch was very different from the first. Our route, called "The Great Arch" followed a stone wall on our left, about nine feet tall all the way to the top. The second pitch ended at some bolted anchors midway up. There were no other features to distinguish this stop. Max ascended, then I climbed up. This climb was all about finding the subtle footwork again, but also using my hands to grab the bottom edge of the wall, where there was a pretty consistent crack, and using this opposing force between hands and feet to make it up the route. It was pretty straightforward, with only a few points the crack seemed hard to hold. I got to the top, hooked into the anchors, and belayed for Christy. Belaying while standing on a smooth rock face is pretty interesting. You have to make sure you're fastened into the anchors well, then just sit back in your harness and focus on your climber. While belaying you also need to find a way to dress the rope so it won't get in the next climber's way. I piled the rope across my feet as Christy ascended. When she got to the top, I kept the rope tight while she clipped in. Once she had tested her clips and felt secure, I relaxed.

Belaying on the Second Pitch

Third Pitch:
Max began climbing almost as soon as Christy got to the clips. We sorted out logistics and off he went. He climbed up, around an outcrop of rock and we lost sight of him. We could still shout back and forth though. For this round Christy belayed Max, then went up second, while I stayed behind and followed her rope and carried the pack. Going last is not as fun. There's a lot of waiting and wondering what's going on up there. As advertised, this pitch was a little easier than the last. As we neared the top, the angle became less extreme. Once Christy was safely at the top of the third pitch, they shouted down and I began my climb. It was similar to the previous one, with the outcrop being the only odd bit. The top of this one, not visible from the previous pitch, was a set of bolted anchors on the wall next to a scrawny pine tree. It was sapling sized, but likely very old. How it managed to grow amid all that stone is remarkable. We waited at this pitch slightly longer than the last. I think it was because there was shade, finally. We sorted out the ropes, made sure nothing was tangled, and Max set off again.

Fourth Pitch:

Christy at the Third Pitch

The top of the fourth, and last, pitch was not visible from the third. Max climbed up, around a crest of rock, and was gone. We waited, shouted, and tried to figure out what was going on. The wind was much more active this high up, but quite refreshing. Between gusts and breezes, we decided he was ready. I tied in, had the other rope trailing, and began climbing, making sure Max was keeping tension on the rope as I went. This climb became laughably easy. After the first third of the climb, the mountain evens out and the wall to the left becomes a shelf. Instead of reaching down to grab the edge, I was standing and using it like a railing, but grabbing the underside of it. I simply walked the rest of the way, unclipping the rope I was belayed on, and clipping in the rope behind me for Christy. The top of this pitch had another stand of trees at the center of the wall's termination. we climbed up, then headed left into the trees to belay from there. After a bit of speculation and discussion, we figured out when Christy was ready and I belayed for her as she climbed. She made it, we tidied up our ropes and things, and headed for the top, leaving most of our gear at the trees for the descent.

The Summit Hike:

A silly little climb up the top of a giant ball. We emerged from the mountain face, still wearing harnesses and climbing shoes to the wonder of the people that had taken the park's trail to the summit. They were amused, astounded, awed. It felt pretty awesome. We climbed up until there was no more up to climb and sat down for a picnic. I switched shoes, trading climbing shoes for sandals. We put on our bunny ears and had some of the hikers take our picture. After food was consumed, we walked back to our stuff. I stayed in sandals for this part, it was pretty tame. It was at this point my ankle really started hurting. I knew there was nothing any of us could do about it, so I just tried to be gentle. I knew we would be down soon.

What goes up...:

Waiting at the bolts as Max and Christy Rappel

To get down from the mountain was a breeze. We gathered our things, tied the ropes together, threading them through the rings, and used our belay devices to rappel down, two people on single ropes, then the last one on both ropes. We would rappel down, clip in, then wait for the other person to make it down. Instead of using the route that we climbed, we veered to the right toward a set of rings that was clear from any obstructions. Because Stone mountain is so slopey/slabby gravity didn't pull us down very fast. We had to feed the rope through at points, and really lean back on our harnesses to go anywhere. Quite a gentle rappel. Max did part of it in his socks.

Me and Christy Rappeling down

We made it to the Tree Ledge and found the two packs we had left there, then rappelled down the last stretch. To get back to the car we had to hike over boulders to the trail, then through the homestead-historical site, then along a gravel road, and then we were there. I finally started complaining about my ankle, and allowed myself to limp and gimp along the closer we got to the car. We piled our gear and ourselves into the car, feeling exhausted and accomplished.

Post Climb:
We made it to a gas station and enjoyed their snacks and refreshments thoroughly, sat on a picnic table outside and speculated about the motorcyclists that passed. We drove back, chatting, maybe a little less energetically than the beginning of the day, and made it back to King. All of us were hungry, so we ate Mexican at Mi Pueblos. With that energy boost from food, we sorted out our packs, trying not to steal each other's stuff, and parted ways.

Assessment:
At the end of the day I had two scraped knees, a funny sunburn in the middle of my back, a swollen ankle, and a fabulous experience with countless stories to tell, not to mention two awesome friends.