I can’t count how many times I’ve walked past some horrendously thin crack on some wall in the desert and wondered if it could be climbed. Last spring, on a trip to a rarely visited corner of the Swell, I did exactly that with my friends Rick and Jess. We stared at it for a while, and debated if it was doable. The difference is, that this time, we decided to try.
Rick and I took turns working on the opening moves and probed into the place where the crack pinched down to purple Metolius/blue Alien/yellow X4 size. That’s the size below the size where you fingers don’t fit anymore. Luckily, there were just enough tiny face holds and shallow pods in the crack to make it go, maybe. That fall, Rick and I came down with the bolt kit, aided the crack, cleaned the mud out of the wide section, and hand drilled the anchors.
After 17 years of climbing, these are the first bolts I’ve ever placed. With that out of the way, we started to work the moves. At the time, they were so far beyond us that we could only guess at what the eventual sending beta may be. A year later (a month ago) we came back to give it another go. We got the moves figured out, but then we remembered that we had to stop and place tiny gear at some point, and had to re-work the beta. However, at the end of that weekend, we felt like we had a pretty good handle on how to go about climbing this thing. We just needed to get much, much stronger.
This past weekend, we came back much fitter and psyched for a real crack at it. I gave it one final go on top rope, still failing to get it clean, but confirming that my beta was the best way to go for me. Rick did the same, figuring out his much different beta (he’s a foot taller than me). Then, with all the information I needed, I tied into the sharp end for the first time, floated up to the crux, stepped up to make the first really hard move, missed, and fell onto one of the smallest pieces of gear I’ve ever whipped on. Rick gave it another try, but ripped a giant gash in his finger, ending his attempt for the weekend. So, after a very long rest, I tied back in and barely pulled off what is very likely the hardest thing I’ve ever climbed. To say that I’m psyched does not even begin to describe how I feel.
We named the route Friction Fire (5.12+) after Rick’s attempt to keep our camp warm on the first trip a year and a half ago. I can’t wait for Rick’s finger to heal up, so I can come back down to one of my favorite places on earth and watch him send this thing.
The business
Rick building the friction fire during the first trip
Rick aiding the lower crack during the cleaning trip
The first bolt I ever drilled
