Emigration: Freeze Creek

No Star Tuesday: Round Two

Topping last week's horrid routes was going to be a challenge. With Mick off backpacking in the Winds and Romney having been spoilt by the aesthetics of Ruth Lake ("I think I'd prefer to climb at good areas from now on"), I was up against what to do this week since I still wanted to get the dogs out, meaning that I'd leave the boys up in LCC to their offwidths without me.

Returing to the trusty James Garrett collection on mountainproject, I found a little crag up in Emigration that I felt might be the ticket. Most of the routes were given a star, but one star on MP equals no stars in any guide. Based on descriptions such as, "You gotta love this place for other reasons than the rock!", I felt that I'd found our crag. Now I just needed a partner.

My first call was fruitful. Erica was coming off a broken leg and jonzing to get on any rock. So when I mentioned Freeze Creek she didn't even balk. We left with the idea of doing the Freeze Creek routes and checking out the sandstone on the adjacent peak as well, but as it was NST, things would find a way to turn ugly.

Someone had erected a fence along the trail. Since there was a Mcmansion in sight, we figured it was there yard and followed a faint trail along the outside of the fence up into the wrong canyon. We didn't know it was the wrong canyon until we hit the top. Then, instead of heading back down and looking for the right trail, we followed a 4wd road and then a series of goat trails onto the peak above. I figured this would get us to the sandstone routes first, where we would find the proper trail back down to the crag. Always up for a little exploration, I didn't really mind walking a bit out of our way--at least that was my thought at the time. Erica was also game, since it could "make up for all the hiking I haven't been able to do."

At the summit, which probably took close to an hour to reach, I realized my error. The sandstone routes were far off on another ridgeline. Our intended crag was a thousand or so feet below us, with nothing resembling a trail. Just a drainage choked full of vegetation. Down we went.

Though our legs got a little scraped up (hamburger oomes to mind), the descent went without incident. The dogs loved it and we found out where the local deer slept, happening upon a series of flattened out hollows, hidden in the brush on the steep hillside. After 1:45, we finished the 15 minute approach to the crag. NST wasn't about to disappoint.

Erica's first comment was, "this is like climbing in New Jersey." The Garden State's dearth of rock meant that bad approaches through private land to crags that could fit into a large garage were the norm. Welcome to Freeze Creek.

I ran up the hill looking for a larger crag since Erica was convinced that we were at the wrong place. She kept looking at the description stating 40'. "Maybe if you count from here," she said, looking at where the rope bag was situated, about 15' from the base of our first route.

The warm-up was bad, but perhaps better than it looked. Still, trusting tiny coral-like rugosities, sorting through holds to find ones that wouldn't move, and gardening were ever-present techniques over its 20 or so odd feet of climbing.

Since it shared anchors with another route, we opted to TR. This route was worse. Not horrible, just bad. The bolts placements were very strange, and the jug to clip the second bolt, from where you'd hit the ground, fell off when I dabbed some chalk on it. Of course, you could hit the ground from the anchors and limping back to the car would probably be your penance, so it wasn't exactly terrifying.

The left climb--the one with the description written above--was actually the best. It had good climbing until the very top, where all of the limestone jugs were a mess. An oddity was a bolted on plastic hold that was worse than pretty much all of the naturals around it. I have no idea why it was added.

Finally, we tr'd the moves on a "project", which went free with a little cleaning. The bolt placements were a little odd, and one clip would be very hard, but the route would go free at around 12c, should anyone decide it was worth a trip.

As for us, we were out of light. Our return path took us through the fenced area and, according to Erica, was seven times quicker than our approach.

I should add a description of a 160' bolted traverse that Garrett aiding along the band of rock. He claims it will probably be freed one day. While I would agree that it could be freed, I would be shocked if someone actually spent the time to do it. I'm shocked he spent the time to bolt it. It's really the type of thing you could see happening in a place, like New Jersey, where there wasn't much rock. But here in the Wasatch, with thousands of routes within a 100-mile radius, it's baffling. But, hey, I'm not complaining. I love having options and couldn't be more appreciative of his work. Thanks, James!

All in all, my own version of NST is two for two. But it might be time to join Zac and crew before they run out of wide stuff. But I dunno, looking at those pics of pristine granite, I think they need to consider getting on some real scruff.

pic: Erica experiences some Deja Vu.

Mill Creek/Emigration: No Star Tuesdays

Being a sort who's enjoys scruffy climbing I was pretty psyched to hear about No Star Tuesdays. I wanted to join Zac and the crew this week but it just didn't seem right to leave the dogs behind, especially with a dearth of stars in close proximity where dogs were perfectly accepted. My first round of calls was fruitless. Those I did get a hold of tried to assure me that the whole idea "was awful". As I readied for some rope soloing my wife acquiesced to join me. "Just don't take me up any death scree," her only request. Then Mick called, and our party was now five strong, including the varmints.

We headed up Mill Creek Canyon to something called The Stitches Wall. This, according to the Ruckman guide, had two “semi-popular” routes, each getting a star. Since I’d yet to meet a Utahan who had even heard of them, I chalked this comment up to sarcasm.

Less than 20 steps from the car and we were already on death scree. Well, not death, exactly, but a terrible approach trail that certainly wasn’t synonymous with popular. Mick’s comment upon reaching the crag was “who would bolt this?” Romney then pointed out, just in case we weren’t attentive, that the cliff was covered in wasps.

Not to be deterred, since “insects like me”, I headed up past a route not in the guide. It looked bad, so I figured it would start us off on the right track. It was a bit harder than I expected but, more importantly, the rock was worse than it looked. The bolts ran out and it was unclear where to go. The obvious line was the arête, but this looked to be about 4th class. Above me was a detached jug just waiting to peel off the wall and, by avoiding this to the right, I would hook up with Itchy Stitches, the wall’s plumb line. Two moves in the latter direction and I was greeted by a wasp nest teeming with action. This incited a hasty, yet calm, retreat. “No star fucking Tuesdays”, commented Romney.

Having blown my chance, I handed the rack to Mick who headed up the line furthest from the nest. This went swimmingly until just prior to the anchors. “Shit, another nest.” Mick delicately picked his way around it and claimed that in its current condition we definitely didn’t need to count the star it had been given. Romney hesitantly followed but called it quits just under the nest. I quietly cleaned it and then gently lowed down the middle pitch. We toproped this, doing our best to avoid the swarm. While definitely agitated, we were never threatened. We agreed this route was actually deserving of a star. It was good intricate limestone climbing, similar to the Sumo Wall near St. George. I sussed the ‘unknown” route on the back of the formation and decided that 15’ of 5.8 choss wasn’t really worthy of our time. There were bigger fish to fry.

Romney headed off for a proper workout, while Mick and I head to Emigration Canyon to attempt a couple of things deemed “looser and dirtier than the Fisher Towers”. Since the Fishers hardly qualify as rock, I figured these would be good candidates to bring our stars into alignment.

The wall, which is hidden but directly under the condos at the mouth of the canyon, actually looked good. Situated very close to Mick’s lab, he thought it might be a good place to get some mileage during breaks at work.

We started up Dripping Alien Wax, a bolted crack line that the info I found suggested rabies shots prior to attempting. It would not disappoint. After three bolts of decent but dirty 5.11 climbing, every handhold Mick touched rained sand down on me. “Take”. After cleaning the holds, Mick made it to the anchors, clearly unimpressed. Despite having to continuously dodge dislodged rocks I commented that “it looked okay.”

The first three bolts had me complaining about the rock. “You just wait,” said Mick. Sure enough, the top was awful. Even with closely spaced bolts I was impressed with Mick’s lead. Everything weighted threatened to peel from the wall.

Next up was Emigration Escape, A1, or “probably a 5.11+ grovel.” We set up a top rope and Mick promptly flashed it. My attempt was more feeble, especially when a large section of the crack—and a seemingly key hold—began to dislodge. Large enough to kill anything it might land on; I decided to let this one remain an aid route. Forever. I’m quite certain “mileage after work” is not going to be on the agenda.

Mick’s review of DAW summed up our first No Star Tuesday: “worst route I’ve ever done.” There will be more.

I’d like to give a shout out to James Garrett, who provided all of the day’s entertainment. The man is not one to shy away from a bit of suspect rock. I look forward to learning more about him over the coming weeks.

pics: Stitches Wall, above, and Mick getting ready to tackle Dripping Alien Wax

Big Cottonwood

I love the climbing in Big Cottonwood Canyon. This, apparently, is a strange sentiment. Most people I run across hate it. I find the rock some of the most friendly I've encountered. It's smooth, so it doesn't hurt my never-quite-conditioned fingers and challenges you with a never ending puzzle of bizarre sequences. Plus, I can run up there and knock off a few route in an hour or so. If you could take dogs I'd be up there all the time.

I've gotten into my head the harebrained idea of trying every route in BC. I'm not sure how it'll go but I might as well record it. At least I'll have a database of all the new activity at the established crags.

Most of my partners are only into harder stuff, so that's almost all I've done. But my wife is a newbie and--at least so far--seems happy to accompany me on the easier classic lines. We'll see how she feels about it as the tick list forces us to turn to obscura. Should be fun.

pic: The antithesis of obscure: Ben at The Pile

The Slips

For a blog focusing on obscure routes it's a little strange to begin at one of the most popular areas in Big Cottonwood. There are a few weird routes here but they'll have to wait for another day. Last weekend Lisa and I decided to begin the tick-a-thon with some really easy climbing. She hadn't climbed in months, and I'd only been out a few times.

The slips is mainly one slabby wall. The routes on the right side are sport bolted and easy. All are of excellent quality. I think the right 5.6 might be a little exciting for someone pushing that grade (if this is possible). Lisa flew up all three and seemed to have a hard time telling the difference.

We then headed down to the creek where there are three bolted 5.10s. Only two are in the guide, and both are steep, juggy, and fun. There's a newer route on the left that's more than a tad chossy. But it's good climbing over a couple of roofs on jugs and checks in around easy 5.10.

We didn't place a piece of gear but skipped a few brushy-looking lines that we'll be back for. Also, there's a new long route that, I think, is all bolts but requires two rappels if you only have one rope. More on this next time.

I need to start to take photos when I go out. Today I pilfered one from Mountainproject.com, which is currently one of three places where you might find new local info, along with utahclimbers and rockclimbing.

Why This Blog?

I was thinking yesterday that I may have spent more time climbing in weird or obscure areas around the world than anyone alive. During the decade I spent on the road I climbed at most of the "famous" spots on my tick list. I also spent an inordinate amount of time establishing obscure new routes and sniffing out and repeating climbs that hardly anyone else would want to bother with. For me, climbing has always been about exploration. I like to sample a bit of everything. And I'm not put off by a bit of scruff.

Anyway, I climb a lot less now. Sometimes I don't climb for months on end. When I do climb, however, I still spend of lot of time beating the bush to places that generate a "never been there" response from locals. In the little bit of climbing I've done since moving to Salt Lake, I hear this all of the time.

The great thing about a blog is the I can record this stuff with minimal effort. So it seemed like a good idea to start chronicling my adventures. The local area has very little recorded since the Ruckmans wrote their guidebooks in the middle 90s. There is a lot of convoluted information out there on various web sites, forums, and in handwritten guides, but nothing that is organized. Whenever I find a line of bolts or old tat whilst trapsing around the Wasatch the locals I ask (who generally frequent hip places) never have an idea. So I'll just begin to write things down to see what comes out of it.

pic: one of my obscure efforts in the Los Padres NF.