So much work...
I bolted a new route today, and it got me thinking how stupid putting up new routes is. It’s stupid because of all the work that goes into it. Now, I know that there are still plenty of yet-to-be-climbed splitter cracks out there that require no cleaning or anything, but let me tell you what I went through today for a 50-foot tall, six- bolts-long limestone sport route:
- Sorted through all of my bolting gear and decided what to take and what not to take. Grabbed some bolts and hangers and made sure I had anchors. Loaded it all into a backpack, grabbed my rope, and threw the whole lot into my trunk.
- Drove to the area and parked. Hiked and bushwhacked (how’s that for an unpleasant combination) up a steep scree slope for five minutes to the base of the soon-to-be route. I wanted to see what the best approach was, and wanted to make sure I still felt like the route was worth bolting.
- Slid/fell down the death scree back to my car and further evaluated what gear I’d need.
- Packed it all up into a hideously heavy and unbalanced pack and somehow crawled my way back up the death slope (it really isn’t that bad but with a heavy pack it sucked pretty bad) to the base of the route.
- Got my harness, the drill (with battery), bit, wrench, brushes, hammer, and Gri-Gri out of the pack and bushwhacked left along the base of the cliff until I could cut back right on yet another steep scree slope up to the top of the cliff. More hideous bushwhacking. Oh, and it was 96 degrees F today and I was in the sun.
- Got to the top of the cliff and looked over the side, seeing where a good spot for the anchors would be. The rock at the top was crap, so I didn’t want to have the anchors there. I put a couple bolts in further back from the lip, anchored one end of the rope in, threw the rest of the rope off the cliff, and started to rappel down.
- I found some good rock to put anchors in and I started to drill a hole. My battery died halfway through the hole. I spent the next half hour cleaning off loose blocks on rappel. A few evil blocks nailed my backpack at the base of the route, but luckily they missed my rope. The rock is good but there’s more lichen than I thought there would be.
- Eventually I make it back down to the bottom of the climb. I look around for my other battery in my pack but don’t find it (I later realized that it was in the very bottom of the pack and I somehow missed it…). I brought my other drill just in case, so I march back down the talus to my car, deposit the first drill, grab the second (“This battery is fully charged, right?…”), and head back up the talus.
- I rig my Gri-Gri and ascender and head up the route. I spend another hour going up and down my fixed line, figuring out where I want the bolts to be. I drill the 8 holes (6 lead bolts and two anchor bolts), pound the bolts in and tighten them down, and continue to clean the route. I rappel down after I’ve put the lat bolt in.
- I try to re-hydrate and realize that I hate the flavor of Gatorade I’d brought and end up drinking the water that’s been in my trunk for a couple months. It tastes like plastic.
- I leave the drill at the base of the route and jug up to the top of the route. This is going to be the last cleaning effort. Armed with a quiver of brushes and other trickery, I spend another hour getting every hold as dirt-free as possible. I get as much of the lichen off as I can. I take off a few more loose bits of rock that leave more dirt behind them. I spend another 45 minutes cleaning the route.
- - I finally get back to the base and now need to get my rope back down (remember that it’s anchored at the top). I have two options: I can bushwhack around to get to the top, or I can ascend my fixed line yet again. I choose the latter.
- I finally get to the top of the cliff, clean off a few more loose blocks, unclip my rope from the bolts, throw my rope off the cliff, clip off my daisy chain and aider to my harness so they won’t get snagged on anything, and bushwhack/slide my way back down to the base of the cliff.
- I take my harness off and shove all the gear back into my massive pack. I realize that at some point during the day I dropped my wrench and don’t see it anywhere. I flake my rope back into its bag (which is tricky since the landing of the route isn’t flat and the rope keeps sliding off of the tarp).
- I somehow manage to get the pack on my shoulders (after first losing my balance and nearly dropping the bag down the slope), throw the rope bag over one shoulder, and stumble back to the car. Half an hour later I’m eating the least healthy Subway sandwich I’ve ever had and it tastes fantastic.
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Good stuff! It makes me never want to put up a new route… ever… How long was your Subway in your vehicle congealing?
exactly why I quit…wait, that gives me an idea for a post. thanks!
@climberism: The Subway sandwich wasn’t actually in the car. That would have been nasty beyond belief! I got one on my way home.
Awesome effort man!
Never equipped a route, sounds proper hard graft.
Just come back from an amazing trip to Kalymnos, can see that a lot of people have put in a lot of time, sweat & effort into making some outstanding routes.
Bet that Subway tasted ace!
Good work
Rap bolting sucks. You would have enjoyed yourself a lot more if you had bolted the thing on lead.
@ed: I don’t know if you’re serious or if that’s a joke, but hahaha no, I wouldn’t have! I’ve bolted dozens of routes on lead. I rap bolted this one because the rock was too suspect and required too much cleaning for doing it ground up.
Well, at least it would have been an adventure instead of pure drudgery.
Yes, it would have been an adventure instead of pure drudgery. But who says I was looking for adventure? When I look for adventure in my climbing, I don’t look at 60 foot high limestone cliffs. This route was cleaned and bolted and climbed not for adventure, but because 1) I enjoy seeing the finished product, 2) I enjoy discovering and developing new areas, and 3) I like seeing others enjoy the route.
Sometimes I climb because I’m bored. Sometimes I climb because an attractive female wants me to take her climbing. Sometimes I climb because I love the movement and want to experience it. And yes, sometimes I climb because I want an adventure.
When do you have time to be bored?
Nice site, by the way, you’re going to crush it with this one.
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