Wendy:
We spent the weekend doing errands, hanging with the cats, and
visiting family/friends at home, and left this morning for
We followed Hwy 140 (the scenic tour) into
Our fine campsite is adjacent to the fluorescently
illuminated restrooms, making us feel like we are camping in the middle of a
city. Nothing like a urine smell to
make you appreciate the outdoors. Good
thing that the 2000 foot granite walls more than make up for the camping
situation…hopefully we can change sites soon!
I guess the good news is that we can find our way to the restroom in the
middle of the night…my bet is that those fluorescent bulbs stay on all night
and keep us nice and awake. Sigh.
Andy:
15 years of climbing and I’ve never climbed in the Valley.
I’ve had my excuses – heat, crowds, and campsites.
The reality… I’ve just been too scared to play ball.
In this land of chimneys and offwidths, what better climb
to start on then a polished, greasy, squeeze chimney.
Uncle Fanny’s.
Wake up call to Valley climbing.
I sure didn’t
find the 5.7 way up this thing. Grunting,
groaning, moaning, scratching, clawing… it wasn’t pretty – and my knees
and elbows are bruised proof. My
favorite new move was the no hands & no feet rest – I just wedged my bony
hips into the flaring crack and wiggled my arms and legs free like a bug.
Unfortunately, Wendy’s “birthing hips” didn’t offer her the
relaxing ass rest and there were even more expletives coming from her than me.
What we lacked in technique we made up with determination, blood, and
stupidity. As the guidebook
mentioned regarding this climb – “a fine prelude to a valley of demanding
cracks.” Right.
Bishop’s Terrace (5.8), which offered glorious hand jams
on smooth rock, was a much better adventure than the torturous squeeze box.
Hand jams, good. Chimneys,
bad.