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"A Party of Three Is Still A Party" |
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by Ray Purcell |
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| The news is full of stories about people meeting outside of chat rooms and coming to no good.� But I'm a risk taker with an impaired sense of natural consequences; so, when I saw John Nordquist's posting on the SSCA news group I e-mailed him.� The Memorial Weekend was coming up and he was looking to climb.� After struggling between going to Tahquitz or the Southern Sierra; "the siren song of the Southern Sierra" won out. |
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We decided to meet at Lower Peppermint Campground and estimated arriving at about 6-pm Friday night.� At 6:05 I was rounding the curve on the low road and the Needles filled the windshield; as I looked in the rearview mirror there was John with uncanny punctuality.� |
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Amazingly, the campground had lots of spaces.�� John had come with his prot�g� rope-gun-in-training, Steve Ford.� At 30 years old, Steve is half John's age making their partnership the perfect blend of youth and strength, and age and cunning. |
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After a dinner of John's chicken stew and Steve's Ruffino Chianti, we decided to do White Punks On Dope, a Southern Sierra Classic.� The next morning we left camp at a not too early hour, after all this isn't Yosemite.� But it was the Memorial Weekend, so after missing the access trail and bushwhacking to the base of the route, we arrived to find one party starting and two waiting. |
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But we were focused on this climb and toughed out the wait.� John's patience began to wear thin with one of the parties, and he started to sing Old Man River when they took too long on the first pitch. |
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We didn't get started until Noon, and I wasn't too concerned until Steve mentioned that he was glad to have brought a headlamp.� Age before beauty, John lead the first pitch, which after the lay back on the 4th pitch is my favorite.� I was next and cleaned; John's pro was bomber, and I soon figured out, as I was fishing gear out from deep in the crack, that we hadn't brought enough large cams.� John was apologetic since he hates to improvise, though was clearly good at it. |
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When I arrived at John's anchor he was talking about rapping off so that Steve and I could finish faster.� I generally don't like splitting up, and besides how often do you get to climb with someone from the Golden Age.� I was glad he changed his mind, or maybe he just forgot that he though about it. |
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I lead the second pitch, and Steve led the short gully on the third and the fabulous lay back on the fourth.� I really love slabs and wanted the Fifth pitch.� The wind had come up and the sun was about to set behind the Needles.� I wanted to rest longer at the belay ledge but felt rushed by the rapidly shortening day.� Looking out at the slab in the flattening light, it looked even more featureless and I couldn't see any of the bolts. |
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With the fatigue, wind, and hurry I couldn't get my center, and thought of the quote that Patrick Paul ends his e-mails with; "I rarely ever fell off the rock because I lacked knowledge, stamina, or skill." "I almost always fell when I let fear, self doubt, or a lack of resolve defeat me; concentration, faith, and commitment are the keys".� I wasn't doing too badly; singing to myself What a Friend I Have in Jesus, I clipped the second bolt and easily ascended the little solution channel to the third.� I was heading for the belay, but the features on the slab got more flat when I realized that I was too far left and well off route- I had screwed-the-pooch.� I tried to traverse back right and slipped. |
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As I started to slide I began to roll and my right arm got jerked above my head.� I had injured that arm in January and had just finished Physical Therapy.� The pain and frustration made me yell.� I had fallen back to the second bolt, and was pissed at having undone two of four months of physical Therapy.� |
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But the fall got me refocused, and I easily re-climbed the solution channel but headed more right from the third bolt toward the now dead pine tree at the belay ledge.� We all reassembled at the belay and found rap anchors that I didn?t remember from the last time I climbed this route about ten years ago. |
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As we began the five rappels to the bottom, dusk spread across the Kern River Valley.� We took extra time, and double-checked each other, recognizing the potential for danger from the fatigue and the deepening gloom.� A full moon rose above the Kern Plateau bathing the Needles in a glow. |
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Gratefully we found the access trail for the descent and arrived back at camp by 11 O?clock.� Wine was uncorked and John and I took an anti-inflammatory before he started dinner.� We mellowed around the fire before collapsing into sleep. |
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May, 2002 |
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