I survived another rock climbing trip. To those of you who have enjoyed my absence, all I can say is "sorry". We were down in Eastern Kentucky climbing overhanging sandstone in the Red River Gorge. I won't bore you with another bunch of climbing photos that look like all of my other climbing photos. We had some newbie climbers (called "gumbys" in the climbing world). Here is a short video of one trying to top-rope a climb several grades above her level. The route is a Red River Gorge classic called "To Defy the Laws of Tradition", and is rated a 5.10a. Tom
Great video! She may be a couple of grades beyond her level, but she's a good dozen grades beyond my level!
Well, try some different angles for a change. Like halfway up or something. What's the climbing protocol for dealing with gumbys? Do you have to wait quietly at the bottom for Laurie to finish hanging around?
Most climbers are pretty supportive with new climbers. In Laurie's case, she was part of our party, and actually did a real good job, so we were happy to provide help and encouragement. The newbies that are annoying are the ones that just hang there. I remember one young lady a few years ago that hung there and flailed for what seemed like forever. She screamed and shrieked when a bee flew too close, made a fuss over spiders, and generally behaved like a sorority girl. She didn't come down, but she didn't go up either. I was hard to remain civil, but we did. Tom
This trip I got caught in a lightning storm at the top of a climb. That would have made for good photos, except you couldn't see anything in the heavy rain, and I was kinda busy at the moment. I hope to not repeat that anytime soon. Tom
That's very patient of you. (With Laurie) Good to hear. The first time I tried climbing was on a face of only a few hundred feet, with several routes obvious even to a newby. (Sorry, Gumby. Is there a Pokey in there, too? Oops, I should know better than to ask. Never mind.) Anyway, about half way up when the guys at the top could hear me, I asked what the hardest route was. They directed me to a narrow overhang jutting about eight feet out from the main face. So, just as I'm completely horizontal, thinking maybe I should have gone around, the tip broke off, and I plunged head first, wondering where to toss the rock so it didn't maim the onlookers. After gaining my footing a few spins later, I tried a slightly easier route. And rapelling down was an absolute blast. I did it in about three jumps. I don't think the poor fellow at the top holding on was too pleased. I know better now. Note: If we're ever together somewhere doing something genuinely dangerous, don't ever tell me it's perfectly safe. I'm likely to increase the risk, just so it feels like more fun.
I have a climbing story, told to me by one of my hiking guides, who is also a climber. For clarity, I shall speak in his voice. But it is him talking. This did not happen to me: "We had been climbing in Canada, and were returning to the States without having had an opportunity to change or wash up. "When climbers do very hard routes, they sometimes spend the night on a cliff wall. They put in hardware and sling a hammock, which they sleep in. In the old days, they would let down their pants and poop when they felt like it, but as routes have gotten more crowded, this practice became problematical, as there could be climbers lower down. So now we carry a short length of PVC pipe with screw caps on the ends, and poop into that. "Well, we had been in a hurry and had not emptied our poop pipes, and the border guards chose this day to decide to make us carry our gear inside so they could search us. They got to the PVC pipes and demanded 'Open these!' We told them, 'You really don't want us to open those.' But they insisted, 'Open them and pour out the contents on the table,' and there was nothing to do but comply."
I would have dumped the "contents" on the table, as instructed, then said in a loud voice: "Huh, looks like I need more fiber in my diet!"
