Wednesday, November 30, 2011

The Old Man of Camelback Mountain, Camel's Foot and More



The time on the mountain went so quickly. It was about nine a.m. when I wrote the last post at Einstein's -- I figured I had about five hours, since I needed to be back home at two. But that actually meant less than three hours of exploring, an hour to hike back to the truck, and a hour total of drive-and-park time on each end of that. I managed to do a lot in those less-than-three hours, but not as much as I wanted.

Finding this gem of a rock formation, which I dubbed the Old Man of Camelback, was one the highlights. No doubt many people have noticed it before, but I'd never heard of it.

The weather was gorgeous, with clear, cool air and a slight breeze. Much of the early part of my hike-and-climb was in the shady north side of the head area, but I shook off the chill quickly as I headed up.



I warmed up by climbing up to the top of the Camel's Ear from the west side. Pictured here (below) is the ramp leading up to a vegetated area.

A couple of friends of mine and I took this pleasant detour a few years ago, and in roughly the spot where I snapped this shot we saw what looked like wisps of smoke rising from the bush up ahead.

What was it -- a fire?







Nope. Bees. They were swarming and seemed ticked off about something.

Going through them would have been suicidal, so we backed out the way we'd come up. I hadn't been to this spot since.

This time, there was no sign of bees. The mini-gully here is peaceful, with great views.

On the east side is the down-climb, a class-three, about thirty feet of easy climbing. But it's always more interesting coming down it without gaining the hindsight of having gone up it. The way the left side of the cliff slopes down swiftly to all-vertical, with the right side a non-comforting chimney that tapers off as it descends, the start of the down-climb doesn't come easily to the eye. Having not done it in a while, I felt a mild thrill as I moved into position for the first foot-drops. This is why I'm out here.










Camelback rock ranks low on the scale of sturdiness
for rock-climbing (overlooking, for the moment, its many quality
routes) because it's an ancient mud pile. The conglomerate-sandstone mix contains a primordial glue that allows magic things to happen, like this gravity-defying boulder.



(Below) Bobby's Rock: A nifty, orange-pink glob
of sandstone opposite a huge wall.








A fun ramp
on the way
up to the
Camel's Foot.







Standing from this point,
it's hard to believe that
an easy trail takes you safely
along the edge of the impressive,
northern-exposed drop-off. (Next
two pictures.)














I decided not to take this little trail,
which leads to the small maze of humps
on the western bluffs. Been there, done that,
and although it's a great place to be, I had
bigger ambitions.








Only one thing for a climber to do when he sees
a symbol like the one pictured below. I shoed up and messed around
on this rotten chimney for a few minutes, going up
ten feet or so before deciding that it was too sketchy.
It doesn't go anywhere too interesting, I don't think.
Protectable with medium-sized cams. Maybe I'll return
with a partner.








An amazing, tiny rock-hollow
on the Camel's Foot approach
caught my eye. When I saw the
picture, I thought the holes
looked like eye sockets. The
second "face" of the day.








Getting near Camel's Foot...







...and...

there. It's an impressive formation -- eye-candy. And two climbs on the south side, a 5.1, Camel's Foot, and a 5.8, Otherwise. I've never done either one because they're short. Might be an enjoyable way to pass an hour or so.







A sublime profile of Camelback's hump and... spines? Shot this from a down-sloping, gravelly outcrop as I tried to gauge whether it's possible to descend the steep gulch bordering the south-side head. It looks like a death trap. With two ropes, it would still be a double-rap, with the second one needing to be set up on the fly. No thanks. Besides, the bottom is someone's back yard.

That's the "Copenhaver Castle" in the distance there, with the turrets. It was up for auction a few months ago -- I'm not sure if it sold.







Next two shots: South cliff...







...and a wave of rock.








Finally, I quit screwing around and decided to locate some kind of connection from the Camel's Foot area to August Canyon. This is what I tried in 2008, but failed to find anything. The south-facing cliffs appear impassable without a Bosch drill and a bag of bolts, or maybe a rack of pitons and a hammer. That's not my typical style, of course.

I located a short gully, noticed a cairn piled on a rock shelf and the short face to climb, and thought maybe I'd discovered what I'd been looking for. How could I have missed this three years ago? I wondered. Possibly there was more brush then.

No matter. The eight-foot free solo, class four to 5.0 at the top, leads only to a dead end. The cliff that stopped me was gigantic, about two-fifty to the deck, affording a fantastic, bird's-eye view of Yellow Wall. I took a shot or two there, but the lighting wasn't right at all.

A minute after returning to the Bobby's Rock trail, I found myself cranking up to the base of Yellow Wall, wanting to see it from the ground-end. From my perch up high, I was dumbfounded at how steep and dangerous it looked, with that thought in juxtaposition with the memory of climbing it a few years ago with no rope.

During that free solo, I didn't top out on the stitches-like part -- it was simply too high and vertical. My back-off point was a good 50-60 feet. Now, I needed to look at it from the bottom again partly to judge how my next free solo on it might go. And I wanted to stretch my legs and lungs out on the ultra-steep approach.

I even had a mind to free-solo a ways up Yeller and try to recreate that delicious fear I remembered the first time I'd done it without a rope. After that experience I did climb Yellow Wall all the way with Scott, through the second pitch to the top of the Ridge Route plateau. But it's a good one for free-soloing, again, up to a point.

I knew there was an old beehive next to the base of the wall, complete with curtains of hardened beeswax, so I came closer only with caution, chest heaving from exertion. Damn. There they were.

I have seen the beehive sometimes active, and other times as empty as a skyscraper in a recession -- perhaps the critters go on vacation. On Saturday, the hive was thrumming with life. This is a true danger for people who might free-solo Yellow Wall, I believe. Unlike on Hart Route, which has all kinds of rappel anchor possibilities, the single-minded nature of the vertical stitches that make up the first 75 feet or so of the climb aren't that accepting of pro, and there are no bolts until the top. Down-climbing would be the only option. But it's not a bad option because it's easy.

I didn't feel like finding out how ornery the bees were that day and buggered out of there.







Now running short on time, I jogged over to the Headwall and cruised up the Walk Up, which I often consider a 5.0 but is labeled class four in all the books and Marty's guide. I climbed it in my hiking boots, so I guess it really is a class four. Down-climbed in my rock shoes, though.

Before I started the down-climb, I overheard a kid crying at the top of Rappel Gully. The boy's dad and dad's friend had gotten him up there, and he was scared out of his mind. They were trying to lower him on belay, but the boy -- about Annabelle's age -- didn't want to take that first step over the edge. I know that feeling -- heck, everyone knows that feeling. But the poor boy just cried and cried.

He came walking over just before I lowered myself to the ground on the down-climb, meaning he got over it. Good for him.

Then it was to time to go.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

More Thoughts on Camelback Naked Man




The plan today is to explore the cliffs on the south side of the hump, and some other stuff along the way, too. We'll see how much I accomplish. I have plenty of time today, but not as much oomph in my bones as I'd like. Went on a run yesterday and a long bike ride the day before. My right knee has been bothering me in the last few weeks. Of course, it's amazing that the ACL reconstruction from 1993 has lasted so long, with the all the abuse it's had. I can't help but wonder if it's going to blow out someday. I don't think it will be today, though.

I'd like to start with a climb up the Camel's Foot formation, though I've also a hankering to do my regular jaunt up the headwall routes and see if anyone's climbing the Monk or Gargoyle wall. I've also been itching to go back up the 5.1 route up to August Canyon - the green Petzl is in my pack. But I've done all those things, so the goal must be to hit some new sites today, like the south-side cliffs.

If some gas remains in the tank after the scrambling expedition, I might go up the summit, mostly to check out the base of the cliffs on the northeast side. There are a couple of bolted routes on them I'd like to see, in the hopes of climbing them someday. I've never seen anyone rock-climbing at the summit.

Hiked Echo Canyon several times since the Naked Man incident and haven't seen any other naked people. The police report still hasn't been released. A couple of weeks ago I interviewed Nick, the naked man's friend. The naked man's name was Brian. My lengthy Jackalope post on their mental misadventures can be found here. Without another discourse on the subject, I'll just say that talking to Nick left me feeling largely vindicated for my apprehension with regards to Brian that weird-ass day on the mountain. Nick had been hiking with Brian in the beginning. Nick says he tried to stop Brian after the older man stripped down, and Brian threatened to bash his head in with a rock. He told Nick, according to Nick, that he wouldn't do it because Nick was his friend. What would have stopped him from doing the same to a stranger? Nothing, in my opinion. I feel bad for Brian, who apparently left a couple of zany comments on the above-linked Jackalope post. But dealing with young, muscle-packed mentally ill people actually is dangerous -- it wasn't just paranoia on my part. As for the other part, the question still going around in my head of whether I should have attempted a prompt rescue like the one that eventually occurred on the summit, I lose no sleep on it. The biggest problem, as I see it, is that I had no certainty that he intended to kill himself. He'd passed up so many big cliffs already. It wasn't till later that he shouted his intention to do himself harm. But even if I'd have heard him yell something suicidal, there was no question I wasn't going to deal with him myself. Gathering a "posse" of sorts would have been the only option. It appears to me that Ewelina managed to do this only over time -- by hanging with Brian, showing to others that she cared about the situation, and nagging others to take action. Even then, the action only occurred at the top of the mountain, with Brian screaming that he was going jump, with no more options available.

The picture at the top has nothing whatsoever to do with the naked man. I just love that shot and wanted to chuck it in here.

And now, back to my irregularly scheduled adventure...

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Naked Man



This is Naked Guy, which is the name I ended up hanging on him in the blog post I wrote for Jackalope Ranch.

I knew I was responsible for this guy in some way the second I saw him. Although he never acted suicidal when I encountered him, I knew he could be -- he was raving like he had multiple personalities, in two distinct voices, and he didn't seem happy. Obviously, someone like that, out on Echo Canyon trail, might want to hurt himself. The other feeling I got was that I should be a citizen policeman and stop this man solely based on the fact that he was naked. Little kids and easily offended people would see him. No question, this was illegal.

But I knew as I watched him (and he watched me, for a time), that he was in no mood to be easily stopped. He was well-muscled and I felt sure he would fight me if I used physical force to stop him, or even if I positioned myself directly in front of him, blocking his way. In retrospect, of course, I have no idea what he would have done.

As mentioned in the Jackalope post, I passed him, then came back down to him. I can't stress enough how I felt the weight of my compressed schedule.

When I was thinking about stopping the guy upon my first encounter, there were no big dudes around. An Asian couple and their 6-year-old kid, none of whom were speaking English. Three Hispanic teenagers. A middle-aged couple. Some single male or female hikers who stayed in the zone even as they expressed shock at seeing Naked Guy. Those are the sort of people I remember being in my general vicinity at the time. Before I could have convinced people to help tackle the guy, I would have first had to get their attention and convince them why we should do it.

The next time, the "hero" woman was there and it seemed like a couple of other people were sticking with the guy. In other words, I felt comfortable that my responsibility had been watered down enough to let me off the hook. The woman, pretty sure she is the same Ewelina from the ABC-15 newscast, was in full rescue mode. The naked man asked for water, and when I pulled out my bottle of Dasani, she insisted on taking it to give to him, even though I was standing right next to him. She must have convinced herself that she was fully responsible for him. Obviously, she's not as selfish, callous and apathetic as I am.

But to give myself some credit, I did try to hang with guy a little bit. I gave him water. I tried to talk to him. I called 911 and talked to the police. But it's clear enough what I should have done: I should have blown off the fair and stuck with the guy to the bitter end. I should have been there at the top -- at the very, very least, to capture the tackling on video.

Not sure if I would have joined in on the tackling. If a couple of burly guys were trying to restrain him, I suppose I could have helped one way or another with that. But only with those burly guys. Otherwise, it would definitely have been too risky to try to restrain him myself, (or with one or two non-toughs). He could have gone crazy on me -- which wouldn't have been a big stretch in his condition.

It feels weird not to have this man's name, and to know nothing more about him than he's uncommunicative and naked. He's probably a nice guy, and I got the feeling he was familiar with the trail. I'm sure he passed a few people, even in his slow-mo way. His physique suggests he might even be a rock climber or uber-hiker.

I've put in for the police report, intending to write a follow-up article for NT. Possibly, I may be able to find and interview the man. Cops have already told me that he's 22, had had a fight with his parents on Saturday morning that may have triggered the incident, and that there was no evidence yet he'd been on drugs.

I'm glad I got involved as much as I did, (notwithstanding my pangs over what I could or should have done). I did more than most, though less than Ewelina.

It was yet another Camelback adventure, for sure.