First Times March 10 - 31, 2003 Back at Pinnacles, mentioning our first pool dip.

	Climbing spots at Pinnacles

	Iztok did not only leave friends in the route, he also promised to keep an eye on Sid, who was to belay me (picture courtesy of Martin)

Since I moved to America, I practically stopped climbing "outdoors". Sid and I made a few attempts with rappelling or climbing with a rope secured around a tree somewhere, but we never got to do the right thing.

There are several causes for that. First, we still come up with more plans than we have time to make them real. Making road trips, flying with balloons, photography -- now we added having a home of our own. Every property owner will certainly confirm that a house (be it the smallest cottage) requires never-ending attention.

Our other reason is lack of adequate climbing places in our nearest vicinity. There's Castle Rock up the hill, which on a weekend is usually so crowded by climbers and other tourists that it defies the definition of a "climbing in a natural setting". Then there are a few boulders here and there, but it means going on a search for a rock with - if we're lucky - up to five routes, of which perhaps one will be climbable. If we drive five or more hours, we could climb at Yosemite - a combination of heavy crowds and crack climbing - I can't stand neither. And then there's Pinnacles, which we managed to pass by for two and half years, somehow.

A third reason for our not climbing outdoors is a shortage of belayers. I would need to teach Sid how to catch me falling, which would be best done at a climbing gym, where, of course, it is not permitted, until Sid learns it elsewhere and until he passes their tests. It's a circular logic, which could be broken by having Sid attend (and pay for) their class. The course, however, also includes lead climbing, which, in my opinion, represents a problem, considering a two-hundred-fifty pound Hippo. I get queasy when I imagine how during his trial fall, some toothpick partner is trying to catch him. After all, we still have to pay off those 29 years of mortgage!!!

	Sid, climbing

	Iztok dancing in a route that is only his warm-up Helmets are mandatory at Pinnacles NP

We met Iztok, former Sid's colleague, at the climbing gym the other day; Martin often climbs there with him. Iztok asked us just by the way if we would want to go climbing with him at Pinnacles. Iztok is a great climber, and to check out an unknown area with someone who knows local maze of rocks is always a plus. We worked out a few details and set our alarm clock to a brutal six thirty on Saturday.

Climbing is done mostly in the eastern part of Pinnacles (more routes are available there, and they are easier to reach than in the west), but that fact demands to arrive to the park before it becomes saturated by tourists on any particular day. Especially if sun has been shining for several days and weathermen report almost 90°F. Then, even most embedded couch potatoes roll out of into the wilderness and it can happen that rangers turn you away right at the park entrance, on the account of the park not being able to contain any more visitors.

Although relatively soon, we still got there late, as Iztok with Martin managed to get a spot on a small lot (about 10 cars) closest to the rocks, while we had to park some two hundred yards lower. We located them with the help of small radios -- after all, there are quite a few climbing rocks there. They got there really just a short while before us, and only started to climb.

	Carol entering a route (photo courtesy of Martin)

	This looks like a vertical ploughed field!

I was watching Iztok dance on a 5.8 for starters and when he finished and offered me to leave his friends in there, I did not hesitate. Well, to be finally on the right end of the rope and outdoors on a real rock felt fine, but it caught me unprepared how much I had lost over three years. Not that one could really forget how to climb. Handling and unknown material (= rock; until you try it out, what will hold and what will slip, what will last and what could break off), you're just not sure. Then the big drop-off under your butt, multiplied by a very steep grassy slope all the way to the bottom of a canyon. I enjoyed it nevertheless, until I had only last four meters left. I was standing on a large ledge, clipped my 'biner somewhere near my head, did four steps -- and turned back. I tried a different track - same result. Simply in a moment I would be secured somewhere under my knees and I was risking a fall to that pretty balcony (just imagine an out of control drop from twelve feet onto a concrete floor), I ran out of holds and was supposed to levitate over some 18 inches to the next edge. You don't need to torture me to get my confession: I could not gather courage for that. Fortunately, Iztok knew to run around and drop me a second, top rope. Once I stopped taking a risk breaking my ankles, all seemed easy.

The worse it was for Sid. He had actually never climbed outdoors and he was also supposed to pull out friends, so he eventually gave up in the first quarter of the route, which made him considerably sour for the rest of the day. I grew sour not long after.

Iztok pulled Cantaloupe Death (a 5.10c), which I refused to lead in the blink of an eye, that is, as soon as I noticed how you must enter it -- crawl up on a nearest boulder, flip over to the wall (with your feet still on the boulder, bridging some twelve feet deep gap with your body, with a view to a staircase carved into the rock at the bottom), then somehow transfer your feet onto the wall and make almost three full pull-ups to the first bolt. Going top-rope seemed a breeze, but while pulling myself up I stretched my forearm, so I filled the rest of the way with uninterrupted cursing and resting my left arm.

	California poppy

If you're getting an impression that our first outdoor climbing was no success, be advised that you got it right. However, we're still hoping that it may improve over time, with more practicing. I may eventually get used to this strange composite rock (Sid has likened the wall to a vertical plowed field) and collect more courage for some interesting routes.

Driving back, we rewarded ourselves with a shortcut. We did not feel like dragging back across Hollister and so we took a gutsy turn onto a dirt road with a sign pointing to Gonzales. It was beautiful there -- unlike at Pinnacles there were no tourists there, just silence. Sun was baking the country dry, it almost seemed like a summer afternoon. And we had a great view to Salinas Valley.

We had to celebrate our sporting achievements at a proven brewery in Salinas, where they have a great porter (dark beer). Reached home with temperatures still in 80s, and so we nudged each other into splashing into our pool. I swam first time last year in middle of May, hence this year's March first time was really early. Alas, forecast for next week is 50°F and rain, thus it may have been just a demo; we will have to wait for the real thing until May.

Copyright © 2003-2005 by Carol & Sid Paral. All rights reserved.