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Tales of Three Groovers 13-Apr-2010 At 5:25:43 PM f_ladou

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This Saturday, we came close to an epic that would have seen us spending the night in the Grose after the third pitch of Yesterday's Groove (105m, 23, 23, 24) almost had us beat. But that was not counting on Dominik's heroics who managed to save the day. Perhaps, you might say, we should have consulted this very forum before launching into the Groove:

"This is a really awesome climb. A stonking line and quite hard at the grade, especially that second pitch. [...] Take your walking shoes if 23 is your limit though..." (hipster)

or even

"I think the last pitch is nails for the grade." (dclimber)

Knowing this, and that 23 was about our limit, we might have settled for the Dam Cliffs that day... But that being said, if there is someone to blame, that'd be me. In the car, on our way to the Blueys, I convinced Dominik and Alex that Yesterday's Groove was it. Men or mice? Come on, guys. We agreed that Alex would tackle the first pitch (although he denies it), me the second and Dominik the third. Alex has been climbing like a pro at Saint-Peters on the Thursday night, ticking three 23s in a row. He was clearly up to his first outdoors 23 lead climb.

Had Shaz been with us, I'm sure she would have said: AWESOME CLIMB. Well, maybe it's even awesomer now that Dominik pulled off two handholds. One on the first crux of the second pitch and another pass the crux of the third. If not awesomer, than at least cleaner.

So let's hear what the three Groovers have to say.

First pitch (35m, 23) -- Alex

For a long time, I somehow managed to ignore the obvious fact that we were a party of three intending to do a three pitch climb, but as we finally arrived at the base of Yesterday’s Groove and the guys gave me the two ends of our two half-ropes, a terrible suspicion overcame me: "It’s a 23 guys, you don’t really expect me to actually lead a pitch on that climb, do you? It was a joke, right?" Well, I think it was only when I saw myself clipping the first of a series of shiny new ringbolts that it slowly became clear to me that it was no joke. Great, I thought, I have already done 1 meter so only 34 meter of grade 23 left to go. According to the guide, I could expect a climb that is "a bit thoughtful, bridgy, and run-out at times. Old-fashioned". It’s hard to describe the level of sympathy that I felt for mikl at that point, knowing that he had only recently retrobolted the route…

Well, the first pitch is indeed an AWESOME climb. It follows the corner straight up, it is very thin and balancy at times, getting more juggy and pumpy near the top. It actually requires not only muscle but also some brainpower and has a few really good rest spots. My three-word summary: Great, great fun. In retrospect it is definitively the easiest of the three pitches but when I finally reached the belay station I was nevertheless bathed in hot and cold sweat. Pumped but happy I released all my tension in a ‘Woohoo, I am safe guys!’ and enjoyed the wonderful moment of taking off my shoes. Looking up I thought "Hmm, the beginning of pitch 2 looks quite tough" but hey, this would be François’ problem, not mine….

Second pitch (40m, 23) -- François

"And you open the door and you step inside..." were the words ringing in my mind as I stepped off the first belay ledge into the fused corner. Then, I looked up and the pulsating music started: "This is your life, good to the last drop. This is no seminar, this is no weekend retreat", I could hear Brad Pitt say as I started to crank up into the first crux of the second pitch. Hard move, tough bridging. "Boy, this looks hard" I heard Dominik say. Encouraging words, if there ever were. Yeah, man, it v-hard, f-hard even, I thought trying to control the trembling in my extended left arm, my whole body under tension to make the clip. Happy about that, I took a break. This was the second or third ring bolt. Lots more to go and the music had stopped.

This second pitch was proven itself to be a tough one. Again most of the climbing is done within the fused corner and bridging is key. I progressed rapidly to an excellent hands free rest about half-way up the pitch. Looked up and thought, ok, another fifteen meter of the same, that should be ok. About five meter below the belay ledge, I got stuck. I spent five minute (or was it twenty, guys?) investigating how I would make the next clip. In the process I discovered a two-finger pocket just above a small bulge. I decided: that was it. I pulled up, raised my left foot on a flake, knee dropped down as far as it would go, right foot desperately pressing on a vertically-running micro-flake, grabbed the pocket with my right hand, snatched a quickdraw off my harness with my left, and clip the ring bolt to my far right.

That's when I realised that this was no quickdraw but a friend I had brought just in case! F-word, f-word, f-word.

Ok, no need to panic, I sort of stayed zen but I had to admit this second pitch definitely won this round. I grabbed the cam, pulled to reach a sloppey but decent hold about a meter above the clip, from which I swapped the friend for a quickdraw. Another four meters, another clip and I finally reached the second belay ledge. I was beat but happy: happy that Dominik had to tackle the next pitch...

Third pitch (30m, 24) -- Dominik

Waiting for Alex to join us on the small second belay ledge, I was testing the holds of the very first move. Don’t we all love the hollow sounds and the "crrrraaackk" of sandstone flakes, milliseconds before they break off? This didn’t give me much confidence, but I committed to this new number for me, the magic outdoors 24. So I started the climb and it was quite pleasant at the start. But soon the adrenaline was pumping through my system knowing that (how was it called again in the guidebook? ah yes:) the "lusty") traverse was coming up. And it’s more like an up-and-down-and-sideways-traverse, you have to use both the upper and the lower breaks (way harder than the "tighten your undies" Hotel California traverse). Some of the holds would be fantastic, if they wouldn’t be full of sand.

Anyway, huffing and puffing along, resting on every quickdraw, I reached the end of the traverse and the beginning of the last 10-15 meters of vertical climb. This looked hard and the next ringbolt was way up… hmm, very interesting, I thought. Feeling the pump in my arms and the intimidation of the magic grade number in the back of my head, I made my first attempt to get to the next draw, but came back down. I tried it another two times and then I shouted to François and Alex “Houston, we have a problem” – thinking I have a problem, but as we’re in this together WE have a problem. I had no idea how to get to the draw and no idea how to CLIP the draw. Anyway, my friends couldn’t help me other than cheering me up and motivating me to try it again, and again, and again, and again.

After the fifth attempt or so, I was quite desperate and I thought I have to try harder and risk more. Meaning I should consider the risk of falling (now, for those who don’t know me, falling isn’t very high on my priority list). Having said that, I tried again, reached a flaky tiny grip for the left hand and a hold similar size for my right hand quite close to the beautifully shining and tempting (“CLIP ME”) ring bolt and… couldn’t hold it and… fell… in the void… It felt like 200 meters and it was maybe what? 5 meters? Hanging in the rope, filled up with adrenaline and lactic acid, I pulled myself together and climbed up to the last ringbolt again.

By then I heard Alex and François speaking to each other in a very low voice. Oh, oh, this is not good, I thought: ‘Guys, what’s up?” “Well, aehhh, we have to think about alternatives if you can’t finish the climb. We probably have to retreat, meaning you have to climb back to the belay station and we all abseil down to sleep on the halfway ledge”. Slowly, but surely this message settled into my brain… Down c