By Doug Hemken From Madison, WI Jun 18, 2008
| Andy has called this forum a “debate” in a couple of other places, and I said I looked forward to a “debate” above, but I’m a little surprised and dismayed at the personal tone that seems to have crept in here. I hope we all agree that “debate” should be pursued in the “debate team” sense? I mean, when Larry, someone I consider a personal friend, asks for some questions to be addressed, I take that as friendly discussion, not criticism of any sort.
To address Larry’s original question: why would someone add a bolt to a route they have already climbed? After reviewing Andy’s photos (on Facebook), I think I have to emphasize that he and Randy were climbing with a single rope (70m x 10.5mm, I think). The plan was to trade that rope for doubles the next day (60m x 8.5mm) and climb as a party of three. We hoped to send the fat rope down the hill with our friends who had just climbed “Snake Dike.” Perhaps Andy & Randy could have fixed the 70m at their high point and left the bold section bold, but that wasn’t the plan and it wasn’t totally clear that the rope would even reach the ground. The effort to climb that section had been pretty emotionally draining the first time, and they didn’t especially look forward to repeating that performance.
In addition, we hoped we would find a route worth recommending to our friends. I don’t mind taking risks for myself, but I try to draw the line at placing my partners at risk or sandbagging anyone. So whether or not anyone else would want to do the climb was a consideration. We are all social creatures, and in this instance being social meant sharing the fun.
Then there is the whole “making a statement” thing. Leaving a 45ft run-out says something. Does it say “these guys are bold and confident of themselves and their ability to read the rock?” Does it say “they were running short of hardware and energy?” Or does it say “these guys didn’t know how to find stances they could drill from?” (I think it says several things at once, in the case of p2.) Do you ever find yourself revising things you have written?
Our route, our decision, our values. Nothing implied about how everyone else should climb their new routes and make their decisions.
A big theme in climbing stories is persevering and prevailing in the face of adversity. But some of that adversity is due to our own misjudgments. If we insist on preserving every route in the state it was left in after it was climbed for the very first time, we will preserve artifacts of some heroic efforts, but also artifacts of many bad judgment calls. The very same artifact could signify both!
Shades of gray.
I guess I’m surprised that people place so much emphasis on climbs as performances and statements, somehow written in stone. I think I tend to separate the artifact – the rock and any alterations that have been made to it – from the performance.
Routes change. They may be gardened, or have rocks trundled. Fixed gear may be added. Webbing rots and metal rusts. Handholds break. Rocks wear smooth from passing hands and feet. Ropes and haul bags may wear grooves. Chalk comes and goes. The weather or the seasons may cause rocks to fall, or new moss to grow.
Our knowledge of any route may change. Routes are located, described, and re-described. They rise and fall in popularity, acquire reputations. People find new variations on individual moves, on sequences, and whole new pitches. The customary belay stations may move from ledge to ledge. Climbing a route for the fifth time feels considerably different than that first on-sight.
The gear we use changes. I learned to climb with a hip belay and hiking boots. Numerous other changes have been incremental, but they all add up.
And performances vary widely. My health has given me enough ups and downs over the years, that at times I have struggled to TR 5.8 and at other times I have roared up 5.11. I find the very same route may feel easy one year and hard the next. I see similar variation (usually less dramatic) in the ability of my climbing partners.
I guess I don’t feel that my performance on any given day makes all that much of a statement. I may take part in an FA on a good day or a bad day. Sometimes the performance itself is notable, like Andy & Randy’s effort on “Blond Ike,” or Ed Pearsall’s effort on “Excalibur” in the Red River Gorge in 1980. Sometimes the performance is nothing great, but the route itself is fun. I think of “Sinocranium” in City of Rocks or “Hung Jury” on Courthouse Rock in the RRG. And there are quite a few routes I’ve done out there where neither the performance nor the route was worth telling anyone about (including several lines I bolted in the RRG, ground up). I’ve generally left those undocumented, and if someone else should find the route or their effort worth talking about, I’m glad I left them the possibility. |  |