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No 186, June 15, 1999 Current Issue Editorial Special How-to Sections Rock Craft Online Letters You Review Products Secure Ordering Readers Index Search back issue Link Pages Contact us |
Rock Craft | Sport Climbing | Destinations | Training
Recommended Reading | Gear | Higher Education | Ratings Just doing itMaking your moves in the wild world of sport climbingBy Mark Eller When I first saw the massive, overhanging walls of the Coliseum, I almost quit sport climbing before I began. Years of traditional climbing at Seneca Rocks, West Virginia where it's a point of pride to say, "if you can lead here, you can lead anywhere" had encouraged me to drive south and check out the blossoming sport-climbing scene at the New River Gorge. Seneca can be a pretty intimidating place, but nothing I had seen there daunted me as much as the Coliseum. Tiers of gray rock jutted out over Summersville Lake, and a trail of quickdraws traced an improbable line out the steepest part of the cliff. I can still remember the dizzy feeling I got watching a climber lowering from the anchors, his body slowly turning in the air as he descended 80 feet to the talus. I would have turned around right then, but my partner insisted that we walk a little farther down the shoreline. The cliff soon kicked back to a more reasonable angle, and we found a climb that looked possible. It was the first time I had left the ground on lead without a rack; I felt light and unencumbered with just quickdraws on my harness. I remember trying to sound cool, commenting on the gear placements I was passing up, but really I was thrilled to clip the gleaming bolts. By the end of the day, my confidence was high enough to try Under the Milky Way, a 5.11 arete on lustrous orange rock. I barely managed to pull the small roof at the start, grateful that a more knowledgeable sport climber had showed us how to use a stick to pre-clip the first bolt. I ended up resting at the second bolt, then the third, and at nearly every one along the way to the top. I also took a good-sized fall, but my growing trust in bolt protection allowed me to shake it off and continue upward. Back on the ground, I was totally elated. I had never tried to lead anything that hard before, but I was already hopeful that with some training I could return and finish the climb in good style. Hiking out, we passed by the Coliseum again. It still looked ridiculously steep, but this time my stomach didn't squirm and I thought, "Maybe someday." Why sport climb? True, bouldering also offers great freedom of movement. But sport climbing allows access to the entire cliff, even multiple pitches of it. And some of the most inspiring formations I've seen, like the Coliseum, don't lend themselves to traditional protection. Don't get me wrong I like to place gear, and I also love to go climbing with just shoes and a chalk bag. But the most memorable climbing moments in my life have come from doing bouldering-hard moves high off the deck in the amazing vertical setting of a sport route. Finally, sport climbing offers some practical advantages. It requires less gear so is cheaper to start than traditional or aid climbing. Sport cliffs often feature easy access; with a short approach and the protection already in place, you can do many pitches in a day. By climbing ropelengths at a time on easier routes, you can build up your endurance, enjoying the cliff-top views between burns. After a season, you might even find your traditional leading has improved, bolstered by the increased stamina and power that you've gained by clipping bolts. Rules of the game If the route requires more than one attempt, you will be going for the redpoint, which means doing the climb from bottom to top without falls. Of course, the fewer attempts you need the better, but whether you clip the anchors on your fifth try or your 50th, you have redpointed the route. Most people can redpoint nearly a full number grade higher then they can on-sight. So, if you can consistently climb 5.11c first try, then a 5.12b should be feasible after a few days practicing and attempting the route. Notice the word "consistently" in the previous sentence. One 5.12b on-sight does not mean that a 5.13 redpoint is just around the corner. Sport climbing safely Pre-climb ritual. Most serious sport-climbing accidents stem from mistakes made before the action even begins. Prevent them by running through the following checklist before you step off the ground.
Clipping the first bolt. None of the above "checks" will help a leader who falls below the first bolt. Until this is clipped, the belayer should "spot," getting ready to support and guide the leader's falling torso just enough to land her upright and away from boulders or other hazardous landings. Alternatively especially when the opening moves look difficult or the first bolt is high use a clip stick to pre-hang the rope and quickdraw through the first bolt (see Tech Tip No. 181). Leading and falling. Now the leader is safely off the deck, it's time to gun for the top just be sure to do all the little things right on the way. l Clip the rope into the quickdraws correctly (see Tech Tip No. 179). The key is to avoid backclipping a correctly clipped rope runs from the belayer out through the biner to the climber (figure 1). Also, when traversing, make sure the gates on the bottom carabiners of your quickdraws face away from your direction of travel. l Keep the rope from running behind your legs when leading. A fall with the rope in this position can flip you upside down. Low on a pitch, the belayer can help prevent such dangerous falls by positioning himself so the rope runs into the side of the leader's waist and away from her legs (figure 2). Higher on the pitch, the leader should make a conscious effort to step around the rope (rather than stemming a leg through the gap between the rope and the rock), and the belayer should warn the leader whenever she steps "inside" the rope. l Logging air time is an everyday part of sport climbing. When you do fall, try to warn your belayer first, and then push off slightly to get clear of the rock. Sight your landing and brace against impact with hands and feet. Do not grab the rope. When the leader shouts "falling," the belayer should not reel in slack until the rope is guitar-string tight. This results in a harsh fall and can slam the leader into the rock (figure 3). Instead, the belayer should lock off his belay device with a small amount of slack in the system and jump slightly at the moment of impact, providing a more gentle, dynamic catch. l Protect your head above all else, and there's no better way to do this than by wearing a helmet. Getting back down. At the top of the route, you may need to thread the rope through a double-bolt lowering station so you can get back down. To do this, clip into both anchors with quickdraws, keeping their gates opposed (figure 4). Secure the rope against accidental dropping (figure 5). Untie your lead knot, thread the rope through the anchors (figure 6), and retie the knot. Before you unclip from the anchors and commit to the lower, double check your knot and setup, and communicate clearly with your belayer (figure 7). (See Tech Tip No. 183 for more details on this potentially dangerous procedure.) If you are finished with the route, you'll need to remove the quickdraws as you are lowered. On steep pitches, this is often best done by "trolleying" in with a quickdraw (figure 8). After removing the lowest quickdraw, you'll swing out from the rock. Unclip from the trolley before you do this, otherwise you'll drag your belayer with you. Also, beware obstacles in the path of your swing (figure 9). If in doubt, stay clipped into the trolley, leave the lower quickdraws in place, and reclimb the route on a toprope to remove them. Going for it At the mid-point of the route, things were going great. I skipped a tricky sequence at the first roof with a dynamic leap, which cost some power, but helped me pull through quickly. My belayer was shouting up a stream of instructions and encouragement. Just below seventh bolt, Scott told me to rest up for a tough move ahead. Stemming widely between two high footholds, I twisted up to stretch for a letterbox slot. The hold looked good, but without lifting off the footholds I couldn't get to it. My last bolt was somewhere behind me, and the next couldn't be clipped until after the letterbox. I looked at the slot ... and stopped. Did I have to jump? Was there a higher foot placement? I hesitated too long, tried to reverse the move, and ended up dangling from one arm. Then I was off, dropping for a few feet before the rope swung me back to the wall. On the ground, Scott asked what happened. "Were you too pumped?" I started to say yes but stopped myself. The truth was that I probably could have grabbed the letterbox if I had not paused in the middle of the move. It wasn't fatigue that kept me from tossing into the hold: fear held me back. Even though I had concentrated on sport climbing for the last few years, a moment of doubt had stopped me. After taking the fall a few more times, I gained the confidence I needed to stick that hold every time. To get the most out of your sport climbing, you must learn how to act decisively. Experience teaches this lesson, but as my story illustrates, it's one you may end up re-learning many times. When you are starting out it can be especially hard not to freeze or back down from a situation where you might take a fall. If you have a hard time committing, bolster your confidence by taking short practice falls backed up by a toprope or falling from progressively higher points above a bolt; alternatively, climb in gyms where bolts are often only a few feet apart. Once you learn to go for it, you will find that trying moves you know you might fall from is a lot more fun than sticking to ones you are sure you can do. Don't be a sport weenie! As far as risk goes, it is true that sport climbing tries to limit the danger of getting hurt. Of course, every sane climber tries to do that the average traditional leader who seldom falls on his gear chooses one path, the sport climber who falls frequently on reliable protection chooses another. What engages the sport climber is the risk of trying difficult moves, moves that push the limits of his climbing ability. That takes commitment. Not the commitment to risk life and limb for an ascent, but the commitment to try hard. Sport climbing, like any climbing, can be done sloppily, with poor attention and small effort, or it can be done passionately, with as much effort as you can muster. Don't be a sport weenie, only clipping bolts because you haven't learned how to climb any other way. If you choose sport climbing, do it because you love to move over the rock, and you want to get better at it. http://www.climbing.com © 2000-2002 Climbing Magazine |
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