The sun was up when we left San Diego, so as punishment for a late start we jogged the trail out to Eagle Peak.  Luckily, we ran into Fred Maki and a few others who informed us that a few of the routes we intended to do were closed due to raptor nesting.  Change of plan, explore the summit area!  Fine with us, we’d never climbed up there.

Once we arrived at the back of Eagle Peak we quickly chose the wrong approach and came over the shoulder too early.  We ended up bushwacking and 5th classing a little to get to the base, but we made it.  We racked up the draws and headed off.

Roberto linked the first two 5.11c and d pitches of Where Eagles Dare, and I promptly forgot the camera on the ground, unfortunately.  Next up, I linked the next two pitches.  We made it into some awesome exposed positions on the route, but didn’t have a camera with us.  We rapped halfway down, and started looking for some other routes, like Rain Man.  It was supposed to be the first route to the right of Where Eagles Dare in the guidebook, so I grabbed the draws and started up something that looked like it was going to be harder than the 11b Rain Man receives.

Well, it was.  A foot slip spit me off of the difficult crux which involved traversing an overhanging face and involved a bizarre downward campus move, but I got it next try.  Roberto tried it on lead twice, and did it with one fall.  We decided this pitch was probably 5.12c with a very stout V5 boulder problem at the crux.  Later, we found out that this was not only a project, but possibly the hardest pitch at Eagle Peak.  Accidental FA!

We finished on what was possibly the 2nd pitch of Rain Man (11b), but we’re not sure.  Those two pitches were some of my favorite of the day.  The features and climbing were phenomenal with everything from delicate slab to brutal overhang.

Next we rapped to the ground and ate some food.  It was Roberto’s turn to lead, so he jumped on the first pitch of Sanitarium (12a) which takes on a wickedly overhung arete.  We both got spit off it due to reading the route wrong, but we’ll be back.  It finished on an amazing exposed lower angle arete that was a true pleasure to climb!

Wanting to keep wailing on Roberto, I threw him on lead again.  We were heading up Dirty Harry, a 4 pitch mixed 11a.  It quickly became unclear where the 2nd pitch went exactly, so Roberto only did the 10d first pitch.  I grabbed our meager rack and headed out intending to link the two pitches that required gear.  The climbing was amazingly sustained and tricky for 11a and the rock quality wasn’t the best, but there was gear that kept it safe.  I did rip a large (unnecessary) hold off and take a nice whip at one point, but I got back on and kept going linking the two pitches with some rope drag.  Roberto blasted the last pitch, which he loved, on slabby crimps.  It was highly technical and fun 5.10c.

Another quick rappel brought us back to the ground.  By this time, the day was coming to a close.  We didn’t feel like reversing the approach we did, so we checked the guide and found Comply or Else a 3 pitch 5.10b.  We decided to simul out with our packs on with Roberto in the lead.  It ended up being about a 250+’ uber pitch that Roberto styled with the pack on in short order and I came up behind him thinking those 3 easy 5.10 pitches were all unique and fun, changing style and character throughout.

The sun was setting, so we snapped a quick summit picture and ran back to the car and headed home.  Another great day out in the wilderness…

This trip made me really appreciate what we have here in San Diego.  If you haven’t been to Eagle Peak, El Cajon Mtn, or Corte Madera check them out.  Our backcountry featured granite is absolutely amazing with huge variety and climbs at nearly all levels.  If you need a guidebook, throw some support toward the Allied Climbers of San Diego and buy the guide.  It’s for sale at our meetings, and at the local REI.  If you have been out to Eagle Peak or Corte Madera and aren’t a member of ACSD then join up!  They have fought hard for YEARS to keep these crags open.  It doesn’t cost much, and your support goes to an amazingly effective local group fighting for your climbing access.

Thanks for another badass day on the rock Roberto…

 

The plan had been hatched, as usual, over a couple of beers at Charles’ place.  Although most of us assume that Charles was born and raised in a grizzly bear den, in reality his birthplace is Gateway, an old uranium mining town about an hour south of Grand Junction.   During the Cold War the uranium mines around Gateway had experienced a boom, as this uranium was used to build America’s atomic weapons arsenal.  Over a few dozen beers Charles recounted to us childhood recollections of his father Vern, a colorful uranium miner and skilled raconteur.  Charles recalled Vern’s morning routine of eating breakfast, drinking coffee, then walking into the backyard where a helicopter would pick him up and fly him to his uranium mining job at the top of the Palisade, an impressive 500 foot sandstone mesa overlooking the town.  Charles wondered if the Palisade was really as big as he remembered, and extensive internet searches turned up no evidence of any technical ascents.  The flame had been lit.

Charles and the Palisade as a wee lad.

We rolled into Gateway and chased down Vern, who had driven up from Dolores to show us around his old stomping grounds.  The first important tidbit of local information Vern imparted upon us was that there were no police within a 50-mile radius of Gateway.  Back in the old days if (when) there was a fight in town, it would typically take the cops over an hour to arrive, by which time the two combatants had usually made up, bought each other drinks and were best friends again.  Vern pointed out some of the local sights of interest, including the (now closed) bar upon which Vern claimed to have “fought on every square inch”.  We spent the majority of the morning driving around on dirt roads and exploring prospective first ascent potential, all while being entertained by Vern’s myriad wild-west tales from Gateway’s uranium mining glory days.

After lunch we queried Vern on what to do.  He suggested exploring a cave outside of town that no one had ever been able to access.  He reckoned with our ropes, grappling hooks and oxygen tanks we might be able to get up to it to check it out.  After a quick recon from the road we were off.  The first task was to cross the river.  I chose my crossing point poorly, got sucked into the river and ended up practicing my breast stroke to reach the other side, with a full pack on.  Vern watched from the shore, almost surely aghast.  Upon arriving at the base of the cliff, I drew the first pitch which launched up a steep chossy corner.  As I excavated a number of microwave sized blocks from the crack, Charles had the good sense to retreat back across the river to hang with his Dad.  Asa and I continued, with Asa delicately clawing his way up the second pitch, a chossy 5.10 chimney.  I led the next pitch which traversed right for 150 feet on a ledge system, and attempted to drill a belay.  Unfortunately, unbeknownst to me, Asa had mismarked his drill bits.  The result was that I ended up drilling the bolt holes too shallow for the bolts.  I spent a good 15 minutes trying to get the bolts to sink into the holes, to no avail. Asa was getting impatient and the hour was getting late, so I simply tied the whole mess off and belayed him across.  As he arrived at the belay I warned him that the bolts were not good.  My point was made incredibly clear when Asa grabbed onto one of the bolts and it pulled straight out into his hands!   After some cursing and jerryrigging we fixed the belay up and continued, a little shaken, to the top.   Although interesting, the cave yielded no signs of prior human inhabitance.   We managed to descend back to the river by means of a 200 foot free hanging rappel, where Vern and Charles calmed our shot nerves via healthy injections of high quality American ales.

We retreated back to town, and spent the rest of the afternoon scoping our objective for the next day, the Palisade.   Following this, a decision was made to retreat to the (only) bar in town for a drink.  Since this bar is part of the newly established and quite ritzy Gateway Canyons Resort, it was decided beforehand that only a quick drink was in order before grabbing dinner at a cheaper location.  As luck would have it we ran into Jess, one of Vern’s old mining buddies, and the night unfolded/degenerated into hazy memories of drunken story-telling, whiskey-bottle passing in the parking lot, arm-wrestling and getting asked to leave after Jess’ oversized Dobermans wandered into the bar.

The next morning we grabbed a quick breakfast with Vern before beginning the hour long hike up to the Palisade.   It was at this point that we came under attack as unbeknownst to us our approach path crossed nearly in the line of fire with the local firing range.  After some careful modifications to our approach route we found ourselves at the base of the Palisade.  On closer inspection our original line of intended ascent, a large corner system up the south face, appeared somewhat frightening.  Indeed, the night before Jess had relayed to us that about 15 years ago the entire top ¼ of our intended route had fallen off!   Although the Death Corner looked interesting, we decided to poke our heads around the corner to fully evaluate our options.    Craning our necks up to catch a glimpse of the west face, a wave of shit-eating grins swept over us.  A perfect crack system connected up the face, the culmination of which was an incredible splitter through an overhanging, otherwise blank shield of rock.  We couldn’t believe our luck!

Climbing as a team of three we made consistent progress up the route.  Charles drew the first pitch, a short but perfect 5.10 hand crack that led to a spacious ledge system.  I drew the second pitch, a continuous 5.10+ OW that ended on a small pillar.  Asa took the third pitch, a 60 foot layback which deposited us at the base of the incredible splitter.  Asa had also called dibs on the fourth pitch, so Charles and I watched in awe as he unlocked the moves on this incredible 150 foot crack.  Although he didn’t send, he made an incredible effort and we intend to go back to redpoint this pitch, arguably the finest any of us has ever put up and which we estimate to check in at about 5.12b.  The end of this pitch put us about 150 feet from the top of the formation, where the rock quality made a sharp transition from perfect Indian Creek-style Wingate to shit-your-pants-style choss.  As the hour was late, a decision was made to descend.  Upon returning to Gateway, Vern informed us that we had been the town spectacle with over 150 people watching us through binoculars and telescopes throughout the day.    This was confirmed as a number of townsfolk seemed to alternately congratulate us for our bravery or chastise us for our stupidity.  Such is the nature of climbing.  After a victory burger and a couple more stories from Vern about old Gateway, we made the long drive back to Boulder.

We named the route Immoral Disapproval (III 5.11 A0, Ince-Firestone-Nelson, 2010).   The name derives from one of Vern’s stories.  He had been drafted into Vietnam and showed up for the pre-boot camp physical.  A verbal altercation between Vern and one of the drill sergeants escalated into a full on brawl.  A few weeks later Vern got a letter in the mail from the U.S. Army, stating that his services would no longer be required due to “Immoral Disapproval”.   Vern still recons they just wanted to keep him working in the uranium mines.