New and Experienced Climbers Over 50 #9

You’re what?

Doc and I decided to meet Mike at his house in Minerva, New York for day of climbing in the Adirondacks. I brought my daughter, Derrin and Doc brought his son, John, to spend the day with Mike’s son, Arum. Sonia, Mike’s wife, is a wonderful person and would often watch the kids while we went climbing. Today it was off to a little known cliff Mike had dubbed Sherwood Forest. We were working on some new routes and today looked like a great day to get some sends in. The weather was perfect.

Getting to the cliff entailed parking at a little used quarry. It’s not your typical sheer sided quarry. It’s a big bowl shaped affair. We would park, head up an opening into the woods, take the trail to an old logging road and veer off to head up to the cliff. Not too much of a hike but enough to get the blood flowing as a nice general warm up.

We got to the base and did a route Mike had put up during the week. It was a nice 5.9 sport route that didn’t demand too much but got the climbing muscles working. Next was a 12 that Mike and I had worked on and I was looking forward to giving it a try. I racked up the draws and Doc manned the belay. It was going well as I worked past the crux and it looked like success was inevitable when Doc yelled up, “Frank. I’m going to lower you.”

“What? I’m almost to the anchor”

“I know, but I think I’m having a heart attack.”  

I sagged onto the rope and said, “Holy shit. Are you kidding me?”

“No. I’m pretty sure this is cardiac pain.”

“For fuck sake. Okay. Can you lower me?”

“I can lower.” He said.

So Doc lowered me to the ground. By this point, Mike, who had been looking at another line, was at Doc’s side.

“So what do we do?” I asked.

Mike, who is definitely the fittest out of all of us, volunteered to get help while I waited with Doc. Doc was looking very pale at this point and we sat him on a rock at told him to relax. Mike took off running down the hill while I waited with Doc. After about 15 minutes, Doc suggested we walk down to the logging road. I wasn’t sure about the plan but he insisted. So I somehow donned all three packs and ever so slowly, walked us down. When we got to the logging road, we sat down on a couple of old stumps to wait for the cavalry. As we were waiting, Doc reached into his pocket and took out a pack of Camels and a lighter.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I said, “You can’t smoke. You’re having a fucking heart attack.”

“Fuck You.” He said, “This might be my last one.”

With nothing else to do, I lit one too.

Mike and a whole posse of rescue folks came up the hill some time later. I’m not really sure how long it took but it seemed like forever. There must have been 15 or 20 people in that posse with a litter and a high tech, mobile medical device and a defib machine just in case Doc went full arrest. They loaded Doc on the litter and hooked up the device. The only problem is that no one knew how to use it except Doc. He started fussing with it and explained how it worked and what they should be looking for. It was utterly surreal to watch the patient teaching the EMTs from a litter.

So off we go, passing the litter down the steep slope like a fire brigade. We almost dropped him a couple of times but somehow managed to keep him off the ground. When we exited the path onto the rim of the quarry we were greeted by what looked like the county fair. There were at least a dozen volunteer firefighters with blue lights flashing, an ambulance, two police cars and a helicopter flying overhead. I was wondering where the hot dog truck and cotton candy machine were.

When we got to the cars, they decided to heliport Doc to Albany Medical, about two hours away by car. As it happened, the rescue crew had just gotten the chopper that week and were delighted to be using it. So we put Doc on the little outboard stretcher with a rope tucked under his head and off he goes like a soldier from a battlefield. We still don’t know what happened to that rope.
I watched as the chopper headed off, hoping everything was going to be okay when I thought, “Oh shit. I’ve got to call Doc’s wife, Bernie and get John back home.” This was not something I was looking forward to. Mike and I got in the car and headed back to his house where I immediately called Bernie.

“Hi Bernie, it’s Frankie. Everything’s Okay.” Which of course means, nothing’s okay.

“What’s the matter Frankie? Where’s Doc.?”

“He’s on his way to Albany Med in a chopper. He thinks he’s having a heart attack but he’s in good hands. I’m heading back down with John now. Do you want me to take him to my house?”

Bernie immediately bursts into tears and says she’s heading to Albany Med and asks if I can bring John home and stay with the kids. Fortunately, Doc and Bernie live about 5 minutes from the hospital.  I agree, load the kids up and drive to Doc’s. When I get there, Bernie’s father is waiting with his other son Andrew. There was nothing left to do but wait until we heard from Bernie.

When Doc got to the hospital, they did some tests, rushed him into surgery and inserted a stent to repair a collapsed artery. After all the fuss, Doc was fine and continues to climb to this day. I’m just not sure if I can forgive him for having a heart attack while I was nailing a first ascent, since Mike did it later in the week. And costing me a rope in the process. Hopefully I’ll find it in my heart.

frank minunni wrote: You’re what?

Another great one! Thank you, Frank! 

John Byrnes wrote:

That's included in the "Cult" branch.   We need a televangelist spraying fire and gritstone.  Are you volunteering?

Depends whether it has to come out of my mouth or not.

Lori Milas wrote: Not to beat this toe-hook thing to death but... it brings questions to mind.  One is... WHY wouldn't I have thought of it myself?  My answer is because I'm accustomed to "rules' and not learning to think independently.  

Rgold and some others were having some lengthy discussions on whether sport and gym climbing could prepare a climber for trad climbing. (I think that was the gist). Climbing so often in the gym gets you sort of used to thinking that climbing is all about 'beta' and rules: stay on only the pink holds, the arete is in, the crack is out, etc.  But on real rock, there are no rules, except ones of safety.  

So, this gym training doesn't really teach problem solving outside the box.  In fact, it causes you to believe that there is a certain way (beta) to accomplish a route.  

I'm trying to recall what Ryan told me yesterday... something about 'breaking beta' when I devised my own way up a route.  He said "The way you did it is not bad, but it isn't what the setters meant for you to do."  What?  

The setters naturally have particular moves in mind when they bolt on the holds, so their way is often the "best" way of doing the route.  This does mean that, to some extent, indoor climbing involves trying to devine what the setters had in mind.  But you're still confronted with some kind of difficulty and are certainly free to work it out however you can, and I don't think that process is much different indoors and out, except for the fact that outdoor features usually provide many options for what to do and indoor settings will more typically have an optimal way with fewer viable alternatives.

frank minunni wrote: You’re what?

 

Gotta love a good heart attack story. I think.

crewdog lm wrote:

My intent wasn't to rile anybody up...not wrong to have a goal for God's sake LOL. The problem, I suggest, is that we too easily let our desire to achieve turn us into slaves obsessed with performance. Sure there's a reward in that but then you wind up being only as good as your last red point right?  It trivializes climbing and leaves you with overuse injuries in my experience. A few us I think, decided somewhere back there, that climbing could give you something which pure competition and striving could not.  I say that as an athlete with a resume of competitive activities; it's a perspective from experience not selling New Age shit...

Not really interested in parsing this. However, you have inspired a potential new route name: "Slaves Obsessed With Performance."  THANKS!

A few years back, a certain climber snidely referred to some of us as "washed up has beens." We decided to not only own it, but, take pride of our diminished status. "Washed Up Never Was Beens" [5.9+] seemed a fitting route name.

FrankPS wrote:

Gotta love a good heart attack story. I think.

Ya but it might be hitting a little close to home, eh with all of us???

;)

Beautiful story, Frank!  A great description of a memorable day.  What would have happened if he had not been able to lower you?  (I'm always asking the 'what if' questions.)  

I woke up this morning thinking about the toe-hook... (ocd   )... and thought I remembered a climb where I already used one.  If Bob checks in, maybe he can say whether it was an actual toe hook, or something else... but the whole move was a sort of mantel.  Left foot hooked on a little jut... right bump, bump, bump up until I could move up.  In my wildest dreams I would not have thought of maneuvering this move, Bob had to coach every step.  At one point I was completely sideways, and it just didn't seem possible to move up, but following instructions, it happened.    

The thing is, learning this stuff isn't going to happen with just strength training, or finger strenghtening.  I'm thinking that when I return from Josh, new year promise, get into that bouldering room and start working out some of these moves on plastic.  Ryan gets frustrated because he cannot continually shout beta to me at the top of top rope routes.  In the bouldering room, we stay low, and work with V0-V1... both concerned for falls.  So I back out early, just fearful of falling hard.  I'm going to have to get over it.  We're not THAT fragile!  

Has anyone noticed that a lot of climbers were once great gymnasts?  How do we add new repertoire to what we're already doing?  

Lori Milas wrote: Beautiful story, Frank!  A great description of a memorable day.  What would have happened if he had not been able to lower you?  (I'm always asking the 'what if' questions.)  

I would have clipped the bolt, then tied the rope off  and descended with a biner brake backed up with a prussick.  At that point, who cares what's left behind.

Lori Milas wrote: 
Has anyone noticed that a lot of climbers were once great gymnasts?  How do we add new repertoire to what we're already doing?  

The first gym I climbed at was CATS, opened in 1988 and maybe one of the first climbing gyms in the country. It's owned by Rob Candelaria, an expert gymnast and climber. It's primarily a training facility for young gymnasts.

Lori Milas wrote:

 

"I woke up this morning thinking about the toe-hook... (ocd   )... and thought I remembered a climb where I already used one.  If Bob checks in, maybe he can say whether it was an actual toe hook, or something else... but the whole move was a sort of mantel.  Left foot hooked on a little jut... right bump, bump, bump up until I could move up.  In my wildest dreams I would not have thought of maneuvering this move, Bob had to coach every step.  At one point I was completely sideways, and it just didn't seem possible to move up, but following instructions, it happened."    

Hi Lori. That technique you're referring to is called stemming or bridging. You were climbing well that day on Remembering Marina (5.10a). Happy Thangsgiving to you and your family!

Lori Milas wrote:

Ok. I’ll make it my mission to find a route that calls for a toe hook on my upcoming Josh trip.    

Not JTree but Gravity's Rainbow in the Gunks calls for a toe hook on crux.  Makes the move go from impossible to feeling like you're levitating.

Bob Gaines wrote: Lori Milas wrote: 

"I woke up this morning thinking about the toe-hook... (ocd   )... and thought I remembered a climb where I already used one.  If Bob checks in, maybe he can say whether it was an actual toe hook, or something else... but the whole move was a sort of mantel.  Left foot hooked on a little jut... right bump, bump, bump up until I could move up.  In my wildest dreams I would not have thought of maneuvering this move, Bob had to coach every step.  At one point I was completely sideways, and it just didn't seem possible to move up, but following instructions, it happened."    

Hi Lori. That technique you're referring to is called stemming or bridging. You were climbing well that day on Remembering Marina (5.10a). Happy Thangsgiving to you and your family!

Thank you, Bob! That was a very fun route, but now I guess we have to find me a problem with a toe-hook.       

Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, Bob. See you and Chris very soon.  

Aw geez....

I heel hook the mattress edge to haul my ass out in the mornings, and toe hook the car door to assist reaching stuff in the passenger side door well.

Then there's the flag to reach the bottom veggie bin...

It's everywhere.

Best, Helen

crewdog lm wrote:

My intent wasn't to rile anybody up...not wrong to have a goal for God's sake LOL. The problem, I suggest, is that we too easily let our desire to achieve turn us into slaves obsessed with performance. Sure there's a reward in that but then you wind up being only as good as your last red point right?  It trivializes climbing and leaves you with overuse injuries in my experience. A few us I think, decided somewhere back there, that climbing could give you something which pure competition and striving could not.  I say that as an athlete with a resume of competitive activities; it's a perspective from experience not selling New Age shit...

LOL.... getting across an idea or feeling on a form can be difficult at times. I really understand what you are saying. Climbing is all about things not associated with the numbers, the setting, people, the preparation and more. (Hope that makes sense) At my age and after eons of climbing my man goal is to get out of bed every morning. What I was after is this though- climb things. The grade is only a guideline and helps me figure out what I might manage to climb. 

I’m with Randy and happy to declare myself a Never Was. 
Happy Thanksgiving to All

frank minunni · 1 day ago · Las Vegas, NV · Joined May 2011 · Points: 93You’re what?

Ho Man !  Frank that's a good one.  You and your friend got away from the reaper that day.

Guy Keesee  At my age and after eons of climbing my man goal is to get out of bed every morning.

Funny Guy my old signature on the super taco was:

The hardest climb I ever did was getting out of bed.

Old lady H wrote: Aw geez....

I heel hook the mattress edge to haul my ass out in the mornings, and toe hook the car door to assist reaching stuff in the passenger side door well.

Then there's the flag to reach the bottom veggie bin...

It's everywhere.

Best, Helen

^^^^

Love this.

Happy Thanksgiving all you beautiful people!!!  May your day filled with joy.

Pat reminded me to get back and finish his book "How To Be A Master Climber In Six Easy Steps".  The first thing I read this morning answered a lot of dialogue on this thread: "Mastery lies not in the capturing of a summit, but in a oneness with each detail of the experience."  

So there we have it.   

Lori Milas wrote: Happy Thanksgiving all you beautiful people!!!  May your day filled with joy.

Pat reminded me to get back and finish his book "How To Be A Master Climber In Six Easy Steps".  The first thing I read this morning answered a lot of dialogue on this thread: "Mastery lies not in the capturing of a summit, but in a oneness with each detail of the experience."  

So there we have it.   

Happy Thanksgiving, Lori!