Sorry I haven't posted in a while. There, that's all you get.
Well we climbed the tower on the 3rd of July for some training. In that time my climbing partner learned that he was not a fan of heights. This meant that I was going to have a climbing guide all to myself, more on that later.
My friends Matt and Kimberly stayed out at Frank's and they climbed with us on the third as well. I have to say, while we were all thoroughly beat (I think I heard Kimberly snoring at the dinner table) we were stoked to tackle the summit the next day.
Frank allowed me to pitch my tent in his backyard, pictured here. Which was nice since we were going to leave for the tower at about 4 in the morning. The plan was to get up and back down before the heat could get to us. I love my tent. I call it the master bedroom. And I think this was the first time I have slept in it alone. I woke up to my cell phone’s alarm at about 3:00am. I hit the snooze button and then laughed so hard I couldn’t get back to sleep anyway. What the hell are seven more minutes of sleep going to do for me at this time of the morning? I dressed and grabbed a breakfast in Frank’s B&B.
Once we made it up to the bottom of the leaning column. We were short-roped that far. We had to wait while a guide and his 4 companions made it up. This waiting was exactly what we wanted to avoid. I have to say it sucked the donkey to be sitting there waiting for 30 minutes while the sun inched closer and closer to us.
Finally my guide and I made it up the leaning tower, which was a lot of grunting and inching up the rock on my part. Seth, Matt and Kim's guide got on the leaning tower with me and together we were able to rock it and you could see and feel it moving. At the top we didn't wait too long before I was belaying Archer up the next crack called the Durrance Crack, named after the first European to climb the tower.
We were in fact going up the Durrance route, but this particular pitch also carried the namesake. It was a bitch. This crack was 70 feet of fighting for me. Please don't consider this information relevant to anyone who is a regular climber. My guide was able to ascend this pitch as easily as someone might shoulder through a crowded bar. I on the other hand, fought for every inch, and rested often. I was working so hard for every foothold I could find that I never had a moment to consider the hundreds of feet separating me from the ground. At the top of the Durrance Crack my guide asked me how I was doing. "It's not as easy as I make it look." I said drooling on myself.
From there we went up the Cussing Crack. This pitch is also difficult, but the selling point is that it is only 30 feet long. Archer and I were making good time since it was only the two of us. However, Matt and Kimberly were not far behind. Near the top of the Cussin’ Crack was the only time I felt out of control. I had to basically turn around in this crack and all at once I felt my feet slipping and my handholds weren’t solid. I told my guide, (in a very calm manner I’m sure) though I knew he had me tight on the rope. He told me I could do it and I knew I was close. I dug in and clawed my way up the last edge. I’m sure I looked somewhat like a dog scrambling out of a hole in the ice. At the top I laughed both at myself and also to relieve the embarrassment that comes from sharing that kind of moment with a man you just met the day before. I guess 400 feet off the ground is no place to bring your modesty or your pride. “Like butter” I said and we both laughed. Once we were at the top of the Cussin' Crack we rested, waited for the other party to get atop the Durrance Crack and watched the weather.
We had noticed a storm moving in from the west, and while Archer and I could not see much of it from our spot on the tower, Seth and his gang (Matt and Kimberly) could see it better from the Durrance Crack below. Seth mentioned that we might be able to make a race for the summit, which cracked me up, (no pun intended) because we weren't exactly "racing" anywhere. After a short discussion and another five minutes to see what the clouds would do, we all decided that we would head down the tower. Archer and I rappelled down the Cussin’ Crack and then we went off the right side of the Durrance Crack which was a 200 ft. rappel into what I believe is called the bowling alley.
This was a trip for me because Archer rappels first and then he belayed me from the bottom. So for a couple of minutes I was standing there alone on the side of this tower. The rain hadn't started yet, but I could hear the thunder of the incoming storm. Now I could see the clouds and the light smear of rain below them. There weren’t any sounds other then the wind. All the animals were smart enough to have gone somewhere safe far away from me.
Although I didn’t make the summit of the tower yet, I have stood alone 200 feet above solid ground on a small ledge the size of a coffee table. I have hung silently by a rope over the edge as black-eye clouds grow like a stain and grumble with cement-mixer bellies. I could not cry, though I felt I should, both from disappointment and love. This was my summit; this is what I had really come to do, though I didn’t know it until that moment. I tried to be disappointed at the lost summit, but I was too smitten to care. I was in love with the tower, and I was glad that the storm came and gave me a reason to return. I am not done with the tower by a long shot. I will woo her yet.
That night my hunger was insatiable. I don't think I have ever earned my calories the way I did over those couple days. I fell in love with every cook at Frank’s, especially Ma Chris. She was sweet enough to get up at 4 and cook us that special breakfast. There I slept on the couch and watched the rain and clouds swallow up the tower. Later that night we were able to watch the fireworks as well as the headlamps of the night climbers descending. After the fireworks, we went back to Hulett and managed to get two beers down before the bartender kicked us out at 11:oo. Balls!
