Today I climbed the hardest rock route I have ever done. It was at McKinley Rock, near Glide, Oregon. The route is called Hang Ten, it is three pitches long, about three hundred and fifty feet high, rated at 5.10a. I wasn't able to free the 5.10a overhang, but the rest, at 5.8 or 5.9 I felt really solid on.
The day began with a mile long hike, quite pleasant in it's own right, to the base of the rock. We quickly got on our gear and got ready. Harold would lead, with Andrew (who, like me, had never climbed a multi-pitch climb before) belaying, followed by myself and then Greg. It was obvious that the first ten feet was going to be a crux in it's own right, being that it was mossy and damp. Harold slipped and slided (we all did) on the easy first few feet, but once he got up ten or fifteen feet, the rock dried out and he quickly reached the first belay station.
Once Harold had his belay station set up and was on belay, Andrew started up. It was a struggle for him getting past the first few cruxes, but he persevered and made it up to the belay station. Now, this had taken quite a while, the first two climbers and I was getting antsy to go, wondering if I had what it took, maybe I wasn't ready, but once it was my turn I knew I had to at least try. So I laced up my clim
bing shoes, roped up and started climbing.Now, I really hadn't eaten breakfast, in fact, all I had eaten was a couple of bites of chocolate bunt cake and most of a praline bar, plus sixteen ounces of coffee. Breakfast of champions.
So I struggled at first, not really realizing how coarse this dacite was, not really trusting my feet, but once I got past the first crux, I was on my way. I had momentarily thought about giving up, but I had pushed through it and once I did I pretty much scooted on up the first pitch. It was awesome. The rock is really rough and very solid, and there always seems to be handholds whenever you
need them. I joined Harold and Andrew a hundred and thirty so odd feet above the deck, clipped into the bolt with my daisy chain and I was off the rope. Harold belayed Greg up the pitch and we when he arrived we were a cozy foursome on some huge rock in the forest.At this point Andrew had decided he had had enough, his stomach had been bothering him earlier and the stress of climbing such a steep, huge rock was making him not want to get into a bad situation. It's a hard decision to make, but we have all had to do it. Plus Harold's back wasn't enjoying the hanging belay, so they headed down while Greg and I continued on.
Once more, I had the thought of quitting, the roof looked really intimidating, but I really wanted to just keep going, keep trying, just see if I could do it. Greg made quick work of the pitch until the roof was reached, and he struggled through his first attempt, but on the second try, he made it through. I was thoroughly impressed. The belay station is just on the edge of that lip, and I was really wondering how I would get through. Greg had said that if I couldn't do it, he would lower some webbing and I could aid through it (using something other than the rock to ascend).
I started up, and the climbing for the most part wasn't too difficult, 5.8 to 5.9 for the majority of the route and those sections for the most part I breezed on up, and this pitch was no different until I reached the roof. I got the quickdraws unlatched, then lowered a few feet to make the attempt. It was really tough. I tried a few times but my arms were so spent already that there was no way I was going to be able to get over it (yet). So Greg lowered the webbing and I tried to pull myself up but I was having a hard time with that too, and I was really feeling like I couldn't do it, but Greg kept encouraging me and eventually I got over the lip. The worst was over. One last pitch to the summit.
Greg headed up and this last pitch went really quickly. Now, on a much wider belay ledge, I could comfortably stand. I took occasional views of the forest and mountain topography around me, I could see the base of Diamond Peak under the clouds. I looked down, it was way down there, but I felt fine, pretty damned comfortable in fact. I was in my place.
Soon it was my turn to climb and I made my way quickly to the top, pulling quickdraws along the way. It got a little gravelly on the last pitch, but it was good, if small, hand-and-foot-holds all the way up to the top. I joined Greg and ripped my shoes off for a few minutes, then joined him on the true summit, then signed the register (apparently we are the first people to climb it in nearly a year).
Greg set up the rappel anchors, explained where I needed to go and what I needed to do at the next rap station. I started down. Now, don't get me wrong, I love rappelling and all but I still find it somewhat unnerving. And heading down this steep face on my own was pretty intense as well, I mean, it really was
no big deal, I just had to find the anchors, connect my daisy chain to a bolt-hanger, make sure I was secure, then disconnect from the ropes and yell up at Greg that I was 'off rappel'. A few minutes later he joined me, set up our next rap station, and I was on my way down for the last time. But this was my first 'free-hanging' rappel (when you are no longer in contact with the rock), and when my feet lost contact with the rock I flailed a little, then reminded myself that I was ok and I just had to keep lowering. So I kept lowering until I could touch the rock again and soon I was on solid ground with a whoop and a holler. I was so happy to have done it, to have completed the route and come back down again safely. I untied from the rope, yelled up at Greg and then hustled down to take off the instruments of death on my feet. Soon Greg was down too and we wasted little time, packing and stowing gear. A few minutes later we were off, headed down the trail to the truck, and the long ride back to town.I am on my path.
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