The Mace

Got on a really fun climb in Sedona this past weekend. I'd heard a lot of different stories about the rock quality down there and wasn't sure what to believe. It turned out to be pretty decent, a little sandy, but mostly solid. The Mace is on the NA classics list put out by the Los Alamos Mountaineers http://lamountaineers.org/NAC/browserf/climbs/mace/beta.htm , and I've yet to do a climb on that list that hasn't been spectacular. This was no exception.

Jason and I left Flagstaff at the leisurly time of 10:30am and drove down the winding, gorgeous highway to Sedona. I'd never been on this stretch of 89a, and theres loads of climbing in between Flagstaff and Sedona also. I'm pretty stoked for driving 30 minutes out of Flag this winter to escape to desert climbing. The trailhead was super easy to find and marked with a huge sign. The approach took about 20 minutes at an average hiking pace with great views abound.

The first pitch was an easy but run out 5.7 some sandy rock, pulling over a limestone roof to a huge belay ledge with one huge eye bolt. The next pitch fun 5.9 crack climbing to easy offwidth finish to yet another huge belay ledge with an eye bolt. The 3rd pitch was a very memorable traverse with a couple hundred feet of exposure into an offwidth/squeeze chimney. The 4th pitch, supposedly the crux, had some easy chimneying to a few 5.9 ish face moves into another offwidth, awesome! Once on top of the first summit you walk across set a belay and do the infamous step across move. This is where you have to fully commit to leaning over a 4 foot gap with 300 feet of air, and then full body stem traverse to a decent hold. Pretty sweet. The summit sported a unique register in a big metal canister that looked like it belonged on a ship. A huge metal pipe bolted down with 5 fatty bolts, with a crazy screw on top.

The rappel was also fun a full 70m of freehanging between the two towers.

Perspectives on the climbing experience...

My friend Zach wrote a great short piece about how he feels when climbing. I thought about it for a while and decided to also write my own, a much needed distraction to homework that day. I'll put Zach's first, as he is a much better writer.

"Of all the reasons that life in the mountainous, empty country of the West is mocked by urbanites, the least convincing is that there is nothing to do. Oftentimes these city-dwelling naysayers can be found on sofa cushions basking in the glow of artificial light. I, for one, believe that there is an inherent advantage to sunlight.

From the belay at the base of the rock wall, both Zach and Jake looked up to see the long, winding crack they’d soon climb. It was beautiful all the way up, slim enough to accept fists here, fingers there, and never so wide that it became the less beautiful offwidth. It was a single pitch, a carefree line.

The morning was warm and windy. The branches of the pines that surrounded the belay swayed slowly, and at the top of the crack, where the anchor chains hung on the wall, they could see the small shrubs that grew in the notches and were fed by rainwater and dust whipping back and forth. They sat quietly in the grass chewing energy bars and learning the crack. When their hunger was sated, they organized gear and taped their hands.

The last act before the climb was always the final check—yanking on straps and tugging at rope, placing a faith in the nylon and steel so strong that it was a form of love.

“You good?”

“Yep. You?”

“Yeah.”

Jake led. He was a superior climber, both technically and mentally, and he always led. As he approached the wall, his focus narrowed to the rock in front of him. His thoughts disappeared. He slid his taped hands into the first great opening, felt the cool granite against his fingers, and made a fist. He could sense the mass and the strength of the rock. He gave it his trust, and his confidence was tempered. From here on he was an artist, lost in his art. He was fast and sure.

Zach looked up, tense. His hands gripped the rope, feeding line now, pulling it in now, and he felt the grease of sweat and chalk on his palms. He watched Jake placing gear and wedging fingers, always searching for any sign that a fall was coming. If he saw Jake pause, or fumble to place a cam, he braced himself, ready for the catch. His weight shifted back and forth on his feet. His arms were tense but gentle, like a dancer’s. And always, his eyes were on Jake, far above.

Toward the end of long days he felt a sharp pain in his neck, and would hang his head heavily in between climbs for relief.

In ten minutes, Jake approached the anchor, sixty-five feet above the floor. Zach stood, still tense, squinting his eyes against the deep blue sky above. He watched as Jake used a free hand to unclip gear from his harness and methodically build the rappel anchor. He began to imagine the climb for himself, how he would feel high above the ground, everything quiet but his breathing and the wind whipping across his face."

Here's mine along with a non related picture

I look upward searching the featurless rock for answers. My only focus on, where can I protect myself next, do I need to protect this section, and how can I get up the next ten feet of rock? I look down and see the rope blowing in the wind going to my last piece of protection almost 20 feet below. I take a cam off of my harness, remind myself to breath, and place it in the pefect contstriction in the rock. Quickly I attach a carabiner and clip my rope in. Each movement planned and precise as that of a dancer in show. The energy rushes into my body and an unusual lightness, as some climbers call a, “low gravity day,” takes over. I continue upward.

It is in these situations I feel the most alive. I imagine myself as an artist painting a masterpiece, or a composer pouring his/her heart into the music. All thought inward, focused on my breath, the rock, and not work, school, or other societal constraints. Before I know I’m at the top and am met with mixed emotion. It is not the top that I climb for, but the whole experience.

After buidling an anchor and attaching myself to the rock it is time to focus on the other half of climbing. I pull the rope tight. It is attached to not only a climbing partner, but a friend. To me climbing is as much about commradere, as it is about climbing. A quote by famous French mountaineer Lionel Terray articulates it much more concisely than I will attempt to.

"On this proud and beautiful mountain we have lived hours of fraternal, warm and exalting nobility. Here for a few days we have ceased to be slaves and have really been men. It is hard to return to servitude."

My climbing history...

I saw a post on someones blog talking about their own climbing history. I thought this was an interesting concept, so I'm going to copy it. It all started back in 2003. My friend Graham and I grew tired of the gym very quickly. I found a deal on a used set of climbing gear (harness, shoes, chalk bag, ancient atc, more ancient set of cams) and Graham bought a rope. After looking on the internet we found the perfect outdoor climbs to start with. Two 5.5's at Vedauwoo. Surely 5.5 in the gym would be the same at Vedauwoo, ha.


The first climb E.O. layback didn't go as planned. While approach the climb, a classic Vedauwoo walkup, Graham took a nasty fall. For some reason we continued up. Since Graham had been climbing for about two months longer than me he was going to lead. After his fall it was up to me. I looked up saw the anchors, and was under the presumption that climbers just climbed up to the anchors unprotected to set up a top rope. So I did. Luckily I didn't die, and luckily there where big chain anchors at the top that I ran the rope through.

Second climb; hideway chimney, which proved to be a large step up from the prior. The guidebook said classic 5.5, 90 feet of chimneying to one of the scariest rappels at Vedauwoo. Great! We set out around 5p.m. after work. Since I had led the last climb it was Grahams turn. After a half hour spent trying to untangle the rope he started climbing. Notice in the picture we are still under the assumption the first climber has to solo to get to the anchors.


So Graham gets about halfway up into the crux and after much deliberation we decide I will try to complete the climb. He downclimbs and we switch spots. At this point it is getting dark.

The above is me climbing with a headlamp, yes we didn't know how to climb, but I did come prepared with a headlamp. I finished the climb, got to the top, and started looking for the "gym type" anchors. I didn't find any. After twenty minutes of yelling against the wind to Graham I finally found two bolts. I could think of nothing else to do so I untied, threaded the rope through the bolts, and tied back in. I told Graham I was ready to lower. Once again I'm lucky to be alive, and have learned from the experience.

After these experiences I get some basic advice from people who know what they are doing, and deem myself ready to show others after some equally sketchy lead/solos, I feel ready for a multipitch. At this point I at least know what a quickdraw is for (I once thought it was took hook into your harness and then the bolt and rest on in between soloing.) and I know that it is safer to be hooked in at all times. I also learned how to rappell.

I get a group of five or so people and we decide to do Vedauwoo's only multipitch sport route called "5 days one summer."


With the combined brains of a future economist, engineer, environmentalist, and english major we figure out roughly how it should work. I lead the first pitch clip into the bolts with some webbing, and belay the next person up. Then we throw the rope down to the next person and repeat. Pretty soon we have three people at a crappy hanging belay and it is time for me to lead the next pitch. I do so and luckily find some big fatty chains and a nice huge ledge at the top. I bring the others up. When I look back on it, we are doing it in seige style as if we are climbing a large mountain. Moving people from camp to camp. Eventually we get 4 people to the upper ledge! One was too scared to go up to the second ledge, I won't name names. Then it is for us to figure out how to get 4 people down a multipitch rappel. This goes smoothly, and everyone survives. Much is learned.

From here I decide to actually learn from more experienced people and take a NOLS mountaineering course.


The following year is spent learning how to crack climb. This costs me much skin, and having to work in the back at the pizza place I worked at because of how gnarly my arms looked.

I led many 5.5's, 5.6's, 5.7's, and 5.8's testing my gear seeing what worked and what didn't. It took me a long time to graduate to 5.9 and above. I'm glad I learned this way because I've also learned what to avoid, and how to get out of some shitty situations.

End of Summer

I had a great two and half week vacation after PCEI and before grad school. The trip started with a trip to McCall to visit my friends Tim and Adrienne. I got two days of climbing in with Adrienne. The first day we went out to some crags by the wildlife sanctuary. I re climbed some climbs that I likely did the F.A.s on a year earlier. Nice day out with great huckleberry picking on the hike. The second day we set out to do the classic route on slick rock (I've lost track of how many times I've been up this great 1200 foot climb!). The climbing went smoothly, and it was evident Adrienne's technique and strength has majorly improved. She crushed the tricky crux. The hike down was nice, as it was filled with huckleberries.


After some beer, coffee, and free sushi we headed out to find Tim. Since he had no cell phone, and only left us a message, and no phone number we had to brainstorm where he would be. My first guess was Osprey point, and I was right. We then started drinking beers and went out to the new brewery. The new salmon river brewery in McCall has some super good IPA's!

I headed to Laramie the next day. In Laramie I fooled around with my rope solo setup, and climbed some classics I hadn't done before. I got on Skull, Beefeater, and MRC direct. All three where excellent quality, and reminded me why I love Vedauwoo so much.

Medicine Bow Peak soooo pretty!

Climbers on gnarly 5.9+ offwidth at Vedauwoo!

North Ridge of Mt. Stuart!

So this trip report is almost a year overdue, but while cleaning up files on my computer I stumbled across this TR. After reading it over I decided to post it with some pictures.

“Just let me know if you feel uncomfortable at all” Alright I responded ,“you have to promise to do the same”. It had been 7 hours since we started hiking and finally we were on rock. Any sort of fatigue we had felt on the approach disappeared while gazing up at the remaining 1500 foot ridge of perfect granite. We started climbing still in awe of the brilliant view and exposure life had bestowed upon us.

At 5 p.m. after work on Friday night we left Moscow, Idaho and drove to the Esmerelda Basin trailhead located outside of Cle Elum, Washington. After arriving at 9 pm we quickly packed the last of our things, drank a pbr pounder, a must for these sorts of adventures, and talked about last minute route details. After a delicious dinner of homemade burritos it was bedtime. I stayed awake for hours with the anticipation of the route.

3am came all too soon the following morning and we started eating and drinking to load our bellies for a long day. By 4 am we where headed up the trail following never ending switchbacks on the 5 mile hike to Ingalls lake. We arrived at the lake just in time to stop and watch the gorgeous sunrise. At this point we decided to hang a bag of food and extra gear that we would retrieve later that evening. This decision would afford us to carry less weight, but would also mean if we didn’t finish the route in one day we’d be in for a long miserable night. I kept my sleeping bag and Earl took his bivy sack. After eating some chocolate, and treating some water with Aqua Mire (one of my favorite things to do!) our next task was going over Stuart Pass, all the way down, and then back up goat pass. Along the way we passed many parties slowly rising out of their tents, fumbling for their stoves, and brewing hot drink. It took us about 3 hours to climb and descend the two passes and covered only 4 miles. While coming down the pass I had my closest near miss of the trip. In the process of descending the mixture of scree and sand my movement unlodged a tv sized boulder that begin tumbling directly towards my femur. It landed less than an inch away and bounced teasingly over. Another mile brought us to the foot of Stuart Glacier. This heavily blue and deeply crevassed ice river guarded the base of our route. We stopped at the foot of the glacier and graciously refilled our water with the fresh ice melt coming out of the bottom. For those that haven‘t ever drank water straight from this source, I highly recommend it.


After a short break and overview of the conditions I was glad to have brought crampons and an ice axe. After much deliberation on the rapidly changing weather we continued. The glacier wasn’t technical, but it was very broken up and an unarrested fall would have probably been bad. We decided to traverse the glacier high aiming for the 4th class notch that would put us onto a popular bivy site on the ridge where we planned to have lunch with a view. The snow was hard and wearing approach shoes with the crampons made it hard to front point. But later on in the day we were grateful to not have the extra weight of mountaineering boots. Around 11 am we had made it up the notch, in awe of how amazing of a spot this would have been to bivy. To our dismay clouds and a thick fog began to surround the peak at one point entirely hiding our route from view. Just when we where ready to call it a day and head back the long way, there was a break. After waiting for another 30 minutes of clear weather we decided to go for it.



The rock was bullet hard and the friction was great. I was very amazed with how solid and perfect the rock was for being an alpine route. Pitch after pitch went by, each unique and amazing. Some compromised of laser cut flakes, while others followed weaved their way on and off of the ridge. Finally, others, and my favorites, where airy traverses providing thousands of feet of exposure between me and the glacier. We both got in the zone and were just enjoying being on the rock. After going up another sweet hand crack I looked up and saw the Gendarme crux of the route. Without realizing it we had soloed the first 11 pitches of the route. We set up a belay at the base of the gendarme and had a quick snack. A fog bank began to surround us blocking out the enchanting view of valleys, peaks, and alpine lakes. It got so thick at one point we could only see about 50 feet in any given direction, it lent a somewhat mystical feeling. It had only taken us 40 minutes to climb the first 1,000 feet of the route! Earl had wanted to lead the first pitch of the gendarme so after finally roping up he took off on lead. The pitch was a breathtaking crack that varied from hands to perfect fingers and lie backing. He easily surmounted the pitch placing just the right amount of gear. At this point we met the first real challenge of the route hauling our packs past the two harder pitches. I hooked the pack up and Earl began to pull upwards. To our dismay the ice axe got stuck in one of the pieces of gear and wouldn’t budge. Finally after much finicking it came loose and was pulled up, but now the rope was stuck in the finger crack. I offered to climb with my pack on, and to climb up to where the rope was stuck and get it unstuck. I was getting colder by the minute and I was anxious to start moving again. Climbing up to the stuck rope was sketchy because it meant I wouldn’t be on belay until I flicked the rope lose. I managed that but then became tired with my heavy pack pulling me back down. I finished the rest of the pitch excited for my upcoming lead. The second pitch of the Gendarme started with a beautifully exposed finger traverse out for about 20 feet and then headed up into a flared fist/cupped hand crack. Other trip reports had warned us that this pitch was off width it wasn’t and I was disappointed. But how disappointed can one really be climbing a 5.9 hand crack with thousands of feet of exposure and beautiful scenery. This crack system then transferred to an even better hand crack, and then up great fingers to the top. Following this pitch we were both grateful that the sun came out again. We unroped and continued up the final 8 pitches or so of the route.

Finally we arrived at the summit at 3 pm after only 4 hours of climbing. There was another party on the summit with a guy who had been up Stuart 17 times. We took a few summit shots, ate, and started the descent down the Cascadian Couloirs. This took us two hours of walking down hill in loose dirt and rocks. For me this as the most challenging part of the day.

From there we had a chance to refill water before starting the long walk back to our car. At this point he the hiking and climbing of the day was adding up and we essentially became walking zombies. Every step carefully planed to avoid injury, every step bringing me closer to my sleeping pad and bag. At 9 pm just as it got really dark we arrived at our camp and where excited to see our friends Elise and Ali had also made it back from Ingalls Peak and where waiting for us there. After eating three of the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I’ve ever had and drinking two liters of water I was happy! I was so mentally tired and excited that it was hard to sleep. The whole experience seemed surreal because of how beautiful the area was and smoothly our climbing went.

I would recommend this climb to anyone who has good endurance and can lead 5.9 in the mountains!

Below is a bunch of pictures with explainations.


Summit Shot!




Climbing the final easy 5.4 pitches to the summit.



Picture of the Enchantments from the N. Ridge




Me crossing one of the awesome knife edge traverses.




The uncertain weather closing in on us while climbing.



The view of the glacier we crossed to get to the climb.



Crossing the glacier to the notch where the upper N. Ridge starts




Treating some water and deciding if we would continue.
The N. Ridge is completely covered by clouds.





Looking up at some of the crags in goat pass.





Looking down goat pass.


Most of the photos were taken by Earl McCallister.