Friday, June 20, 2014

In the trenches...

Sometimes one experience contains the whole of the cycle of life, just on a very, very small scale. Redpoint climbing is like this. We develop an intimate relationship with a particular chunk of the earth, only to see it run its course and eventually come to an end. The result isn’t always what we planned, hoped or expected it to be, but that’s ok, because the journey isn’t contingent upon success. This is what sets redpoint climbing apart, and why it isn’t for everyone. To know that you may fall short of your goal, or that you might not be rewarded with the particular relief that comes with closure, can be difficult to accept.

I have spent the better part of the past year working a route named Trench Warfare in Logan Canyon. This is the sport Trench Warfare, not to be confused with the trad route that bears the same name in Little Cottonwood Canyon. Both happen to be crazy horizontal offwidths, but the Trench I fell in love with is located in the iconic…at least it used to be iconic…China Cave, home to Super Tweak, the first 14.b put up by an American in the US. The crag was bolted by Boone Speed, Geoff Weigand, Bill Boyle, and Jeff Pederson…the Dream Team of 90’s sport route development (and luckily they didn’t stop then). Of course this means exactly what it sounds like, that not all of the holds are “natural”, and partly because of this, the crag seems to have fallen out of favor with the climbing ethics police over the past ten years or so. The routes are heavily manufactured, with fantastic movement built in. From what I can tell, my Trench Warfare is exactly the opposite of the other Trench Warfare.  

I first saw Trench when I flew to Utah from Michigan to visit Charlie in September of 2009. I had done several easy 5.12’s in the Red River Gorge, which was my six-hours-from-home crag, and was excited to try to climb 5.12 somewhere new. I spent my day at China Wall fruitlessly working the classic China Cave entry route, the Oboe. At that time, the Oboe had a winch start (which seemed weird to me, given the “artistic” nature of the crag), which many of the routes shared and then traversed to different exits. A couple years ago, pockets were added to the Oboe start, so now the entire line is climbable, with moves that don’t affect the grades. There’s nothing to stop protestors from winching to the first bolt as in days of yore if they really, really wanted to.  

Trench Warfare takes the prominent line through the middle of the cave. New visitors to the crag descend the short slope from the trail, and invariably halt under the wide split in the rock and look up. You can watch their gaze move from the initial slabby blob that gets you off the ground, to the powerful opening moves into the roof, and then travel up the chasm to where the angle changes from horizontal to first 45, then 30 degrees, finally topping out in a powerful, techy, slightly weird dihedral. Grade consensus on the first 25 or so feet of the route is 13b, into 20-25 feet of 12c, with the weird finish being the crux of a 12d. The route is powerful, and I am not, but when I saw it all I could think was that I was going to do it someday…someday.


Kneebar #1. Photo: Taylor Roy
There are a couple good reasons I wanted to do Trench, and one silly one. The good ones? As I mentioned above, power is my weakness, so to climb a powerful route at my limit would be a big personal victory. In addition, as I’ve progressed in climbing, there’s always been “that route” at whatever grade level that caught my attention when it was so far above my ability as to be unfathomable. Being able to come back to an area and find success on these routes is my real life equivalent of fulfilling a dream. The silly reason? It seems like every time I send something that’s really hard for me, there’s always someone, usually a male, who feels a need to let me know that it’s “soft” or even go so far as to downgrade it. Trench has been the same grade (13c/d) for something like 20 years.The likelihood of it being downgraded from the lower letter of the slash is slim. To the best of anyone's knowledge, it's only seen one female ascent. And as much as I know that grades can be pretty irrelevant, especially when you’re a 5’2” female, it would be nice to do something that stays the same grade it was when I started working it when I’m done. 
The "big move". Photo: Taylor Roy

Getting on Trench took some manipulation of circumstances. Charlie had already done everything he felt he could at the crag. We were in mid-season power retrieval mode, climbing what basically amount to bolted boulder problems at another Logan crag, Quality Cave. Two weekend days in a row on the short power problems were killing us, so we agreed to go back to China Cave on Sundays. Charlie’s plan was to run laps on routes he’d already done just to keep up his fitness and endurance. Mine was to determine if I thought I would ever be able to climb Trench Warfare.  

It took me several Sundays of work just to unlock beta for the boulder problem off the slab. After that, there’s a short rest before starting into my personal crux, which starts one move before what’s widely considered to be the actual crux. In exchange, a short girl knee scum gives me a little extra something on the exit move. The redpoint crux is a powerful cross-through from a left-hand two-finger pocket to a crimp hidden in a sea of slopey-ness for the right.  

As of right this minute, I’ve managed to pull off an ascent of a variation of the route that (for me, at least) ends on a slightly easier finish. I’ve fallen on the last hard move of Trench Warfare proper. All I can do is keep trying. If I give up now, I’ll never know where this particular journey ends. Just like trading my grown-up job to work in the climbing and yoga worlds. Just like moving to Utah to live with a guy I'd been dating long distance for six months. Moving forward, never stagnating, and learning as I go...after all, isn’t that really is what this game of redpointing is all about?