Mike has the braun, I've got the Brain.

June 11-13, 1999

Well, once again it's a Monday in mid-June and I'm sitting at the computer feeling much the worse for wear and quite distracted from Supernova Remnants as imaged in the ultraviolet or in fact any other wavelength. Ah, it must be the day after a CCC (Camping Climbing Caving) weekend at Seneca Rocks, WV, and thus, life must be good.

Friday: Our grand plans of getting a super-early start didn't quite make it past the planning stage, but we were on the road shortly after 11. This event keeps growing every year and this time our contingent (one of a great many) would include Jonathan, Sharon, myself, Liz and Julio in two cars. After the requisite body fueling stop in Winchester, VA, we rolled into Seneca Shadows at 3:30.
The camp was largely empty with only a few tents up so far and no life forms present except for the large cardboard figures of Captain Piccard and Worf reserving Group Site E for the Federation. The weather was hot and sunny and we hurriedly pitched a minor tent city. Susan and Jim from Detroit appeared and agreed to accompany us to the swimming hole and thence to the north summit to take in the view. Linda and Brian were going off to climb something. It sounded tempting, but given the heat of the day, the swimming won out.
As usual, the swimming hole was sublime and refreshing and the view from the north peak was spectacular. Those new to the area marveled at the spectacle and we stood around performing Jedi mind and body tricks. The light was failing and everyone was famished. We headed down to the Porch to see who was around and to restock the fires.
It turned out that quite a crowd had developed. Jen, Fritz, Sheila and the rest of the Connecticut crew had arrived. My old pals from Kentucky and fellow founding members of the Explorer's Society (link coming soon!) Mike and Steve were there along with another Mike (who will henceforth be referred to as Zeke to avoid confusion). Reunions all round. Rampant jocularity. Widespread glee. Back at the campsite the Indiana clan had arrived in force and were occupying their usual picnic table spot cooking up something wonderful. There was the usual array of nocturnal introductions all of which had to be redone in the morning when faces were visible. People jockeyed for position among various climbing groups. Excitement was high. I rolled into the tent around midnight and slept soundly until dawn...

Saturday: ...or what passed for dawn. A thick fog lay over everything and the rocks weren't visible. Overnight a huge tent city had sprung up. Not only was group site E completely packed with tents, but site D was as well with the overflow. CCC grows every year and this one promises to be the biggest yet by far with over 60 people in attendance.
At the 4-U diner over the traditional breakfast of biscuits with gravy, I put together a climbing plan. The current incarnation of the Explorer's Society (Mike, Zeke, Steve, Jonathan and I) would attempt the south summit. Steve, despite his protestations to the contrary, is an excellent 5.11 climber and trad leader. My lead climbing skills are very new and were definitely not up to a five-person multi-pitch lead. Never-the-less, I know the rope work and the routine for getting several people roped together and climbing in the same direction. With a Superman fanfare, we headed out to the rocks. The fog had burned off nicely and it promised to be a hot, lovely day.
We waited while two parties cleared out ahead of us at the start of Old Man's (5.2). This delay gave us an opportunity to go over the plan. Steve and I were the only people in the group who had ever done multi-pitch trad climbing. Zeke hadn't been climbing at all for a few years, Jonathan, while a strong climber, had only toproped and Mike had only ever done single-pitch sport routes. Five people is really too many for a climbing team, but skills limitted what we could do. Steve ran the first two pitches together and set up the first belay at the north end of the long traverse right above the short chimney (pitch 2). I followed--finding the last twenty feet to be by far the most interesting part of the climb--and brought up the rest of the team. There was a brief moment of excitement when one peice was not reclipped and hence Jonathan didn't know to clean it. I down climbed 20 feet but could not find it. #3 Camalots are expensive these days and fortunately it turned up on the rack mysteriously sometime later.

Seneca south summit. Explorer Society members (back to front) Jonathan, Steve, Zeke and Mike

Soon enough we were all perched at the second belay participating in what was becoming a major traffic jam. Front C was in constant use as were several other routes in the area. Frustrated, Steve lead the third pitch of Old Man's and set up the final belay at the top of the Windy Notch. I relieved him and brought the others up. We traversed unroped to just below the summit. I soloed the summit joining Sandy Landsberg and Mark Newbauer and rigged a belay from the piton holding the summit register. Everyone except Mike roped up. There were the usual backslappings and photos and then, as George and Fritz were arriving from the direction of the Gunsight, we roped back down. Mike, having turned distinctly green from the exposure on the way up, quickly accepted a belay for the downclimb. After another wait for a party ahead of us to clear, we rapped down Traffic Jam in two pitches. It had been slow going and the time was around 5:30.

In the interests of getting in one more good climb, Steve and I did Ecstacy Junior (5.4) in the hot afternoon sun. I lead the first pitch across the traverse and up the crack. This was only my third sharp end and with the loan of some cams it went rather well. Steve lead the second, harder pitch and picked up points for placing a large hex (#10) directly above a small wasp nest. Unfortunately he didn't get the bonus points for using it in an end placement. We rapped off and hit the swimming hole.
Mike, Zeke and Jonathan had of course vacated earlier and taken the truck with them. They had also left us both lead racks and three of the four ropes to carry which endeared them to us immensely on the walk back to town. As we approached town we heard the theme from Superman being sung at top volume from the Porch. With a triumphant entrance like that as well as beer and pizza, it's hard to remain mad for long.
After dark, Steve, Jen, Bill and I headed back out for a night climb. We were all feeling a bit punchy and thus the ambitious night climb was turned into a night toprope. Nor did we feel like hiking all the way to the good TR area on the north peak so we dropped a rope on a huge body-width crack on the Block area just west of the Ecstacy Jr. area. It's not in the book, though some good climbs exist here. Working by headlight with no moon to help, we assembled what has to be the most secure anchor in the history of toproping. Four independant points each of them (including the fixed piton and the definitive #8 hex placement) backed up _at_least_ once and equalized with a cordalette. Probably used a dozen peices of gear and two dozen 'biners. Just before heading down, we noticed the set of bolts about a foot to the left of our anchor. So we slung that too as additional backup.
The climbing itself felt very much like caving. Person with headlamp on rope, all other lights off. Easy enough to do. I tried it with no lights at all and found it to be a very interesting experience. If the holds were good, you could hold on with one hand while feeling around for something else. After I got off route and was crimping jagged crystals, however, my feeling around got a bit less methodical. A very interesting experience. Then again, we had the whole mountain to ourselves.
We got back to camp and I crashed so hard I was about one step removed from coma.

Sunday: The first thing I noticed in the morning is that some tall, fuzzy person was dropping something on my face. After figuring out who it was, where I was and what was going on, I realized I was sleeping quite soundly on my back which is something that never happens. Apparently I fell asleep before even rolling over. Breakfast was summoned and caffeine added from the MRE accessory pack kindly donated by Vanessa of the Indiana clan. Mmmmmm. Caffeine.
The Kentucky crew and Baltimore crew headed out to climb some routes on the South End. Steve lead Candy Corner while I lead the first pitch of Totem which is probably about 5.4 but quite tall. We toproped there for a while and the novice climbers in the group got a couple good climbs in. Somewhere in there, I dropped a full nalgene bottle down onto the rocks which bounced away spectacularly taking 20' bounces off sharp rocks and finally ending up almost at the road. Remarkably, it was completely unharmed.
After a very brief rain, the crews parted company and we went to toprope an unnamed but very interesting looking section of wall just upslope from Midnight Madness. Only 20' tall but slightly inverted. We discovered two interesting routes, one composed of small pinchy moves on sharp rocks and one with sharp flakes and large blank sections. Julio, on his second climb ever, fought through and conquered the top hold with a spectacular yelling dyno from the bulge flake. Liz, through sheer willpower shimmied her way up as well and then disappeared over the edge into the sun leaving a pair of legs hanging over from our perspective. Everyone had a good workout and I got to actually use a figure-4 move. In my estimation, the route was probably in the 5.6 to 5.8 range. A good workout and a fine way to end the weekend.
End of day. Swimming hole. Exhaustion. Pizza. Lots of driving in the rain and dark. Collapsing into bed feeling like I might never move again. Another vastly successful CCC. Many thanks to Mark and everyone. See you again in three months!

Mike's trip report

After a long night of driving, Amy and I arrived at Seneca Shadows at about 10:30. Some people were still up marvelling over the stars and the spectacular meteor we had just apparently missed. The temperature was down around 50 so we quickly errected the tent and hit the sack.

Saturday: The morning was clear and cold but promissed to be hot. Mike, Amy and I set out to the rocks early to avoid the crowds and shake off the early-morning fuzzies. Our plan was to tackle Dirty Old Man (5.6*) on the east face. Instead of hiking the Stairmaster up, we elected to jump on Ecstacy Jr. (5.4) and traverse around the Broadway Ledge. I've climbed EJ three times now and it's almost automatic. The two pitches went smoothly despite the cold, but we certainly didn't break any speed records. I got the fun of watching Mike traverse (always exciting) and had to downclimb at one point to free a nut Amy couldn't reach. Time was about 10:30 and we all really needed to pee.
From the ledge, with basic bodily functions taken care of, we carted our stuff up in search of the traverse around to the east face. I remembered from last fall doing such a traverse from the opposite direction. Eventually we found it and attained Broadway ledge. After scaling the two chimney's, feeling hot and irritable, we got to the base of Dirty Old Man. And a fearsome lead it was. A large inverted, left-leaning flake with a few pumpy moves near the bottom. I got about twenty feet up it and was not feeling good. Amy was in a funk and Mike was advising caution. After placing a rather bomber hex, I removed it and downclimbed cleaning gear as I went. Turned back in defeat! Arrgh, the shame.
Defeated and dismayed, we headed north on the ledge past Castor and Pollux and various other famous climbs beyond my ability to lead. I lead up a short, trivial 5.0 pitch to the Gunsight Notch and established an anchor on what must be the remains of the Gendarme. A very dramatic place. A soaring knife-edge to north and south with ~1000' drop-offs to east and west. Sun, wind, helluva view. Several other teams were already there rapping down or climbing Gunsight to South Peak (5.3).

Shaking in my boots from the exposure, I attempt the lead on GSP Direct.

Since it was free, in a fit of bravery, I decided to lead Gunsight to South Peak Direct (5.4*). It's a 5.4. How hard can it be, even at Seneca? Well, it may have been a 5.4 but there was a serious Sphincter Factor from the exposure. Great holds, decent pro, but with one hand on the east and one on the west of the foot-wide ridge and a thousand feet of air on three sides, I was anything but calm. A pair of Army helicopters went whumping by below me. I could see the topsides of vultures circling over some recently dead thing hundreds of feet below. I grabbed the bomber flake. I smeared out over the lichen-encrusted sheer face on the east side. I placed every peice of gear I was carrying.
Finally made it to the bolts at the "Captain's Seat", the single highest chair I ever hope to sit in and anchored the hell in. With some very needed reassuring words from Merle Reinhardt, I got the situation in hand. Now came the hard part; convincing Mike and Amy that it hadn't been that bad and that they should come on up and clean my gear. Easier said than done: my cries of "it's easy!" were singularly unconvincing. Mike started, cleaned a few peices and backed off to clear a rope snag. Amy started and sweating profusely (though not as profusely I had had been), heaved herself into view. Mike followed after protesting, "That's the easiest climb I ever almost chickened out of." Indeed!

Mike, almost chickening out on the climb, nears the top.

We were exhausted mentally and not feeling too great physically either. Instead of getting the fun of watching Mike traverse to the summit over 100' of super-exposure, we rapped down the east face and made our way back to our packs. The idea of downclimbing the Chimney's and traversing the ledge again didn't appeal to us. What followed was a series of the grungy rappells down off Broadway through the most phenomenal poison ivy and thorns I ever hope to accomplish. Then some serious dirt-skiing down the less-than-well-travelled east side trail to the road and back to town.

All thoughts of a night climb were cancelled.

Amy raps off the Captain's Seat

Sunday: After the day before, Mike took off and Amy and I elected to join with the crew toproping on the north-east face. We were definitely not alone with half the civilized world doing the same thing. Rox Salt (5.7*) was free and I lead it to the cold shuts at the top. It's a 50' diagonal crack that eats gear nicely. I picked up double bonus points by using not one, but two of my largest hexes in end placements! Technically, this is my hardest lead to date, but it was certainly an easier lead (with the exception of one graceless frog-step move) than other routes (Critter Crack being one). Amy came up and we spent some time toproping Rox Salt and Really Flakey, a nifty 5.7X right next door. Finally, took a run up a 5.9+ish variation on Isadora's Run with Mark and we were headed home.

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