After Constance left, I took a rest day on April 7 because my new partner would not arrive until the evening. I had a couple brief phone conversations beforehand with this new partner, Ted, and I was looking forward to his arrival. He had been traveling and climbing for a few weeks already and he was up to doing some moderate routes, which coincided with my goals. Moreover, he planed to stay in the area for a couple weeks, which meant if we developed a good partnership, I would not have to find new partners and I probably would be able to give Crimson Chrysalis another shot.

I spent most of my rest day in town; I did some laundry, bought some groceries, surfed a long while on the Internet, and had a refreshing shower!! It felt like my stay in Red Rocks was going to enter another brand new phase. This six sense appeared to be quite true. From a voice mail I received from Ted, I learned that his friends, Graham and Peter, were currently in the canyon and they happened to stay right next to my camp site. Right after I went back to the campsite after my luxurious Vegas side tour, I went ahead to greet them. What a surprise, they were the ones climbing Black Magic the day before and we already had a thorough conversation regarding desert weather on Lotta Balls Wall. I had to admit that the world was quite small. They offered me some deserts and hot drink, which injected a warm current into my body.

Ted arrived shortly after. I had to say the combination of Peter and Ted equals a never-ending story. They never ran out of topics, were always enthusiastic about people and affairs around the globe, and had a lot of life experience. I was very much intrigued by their story telling, as I grew up in a totally different region and never lived their eras. Graham seemed to be very mellow; he was always listening to his fellows actively and always displaying his comforting smile. I later learned that Graham had done much great alpine/rock climbing all over the place, no wonder I sensed reliability from him.

Ted and I agreed to do Olive Oil as our get-to-know-each-other climb. Olive Oil is an easy multi-pitch, and various guidebooks mark it as a must-do classic climb. The descent is a hike down, so we did not have to worry about the common and notorious rope-got-stuck issue in Red Rocks. The best thing is that the route gets much sun in the afternoon, and I was longing for warmer climbs.

On the way towards Rose Tower in which the route is located, I could see Crimson Chrysalis. I couldn’t help but detail my accident that happened not long ago and express my desire to finish the unfinished. Ted understood and responded with his willingness if our partnership turned out to be a positive one. We took our time hiking in and chatted quite a bit; at some point, we took an unexpected detour and had a snack break underneath a cool natural cave—that could be quite a nice emergency overnight site if necessary.

It took us a little longer to get to the base than that was estimated in the guidebook. At the base, some people left some warnings with chalk, such as “no bolts” and descent might be an issue and so on. We learned from the guidebook that in perhaps 2002, some unknown party added some bolts to the route; however, the bolts intruded the originality of the route so they might had be removed. It turned out there was in fact no bolts along the way, at least I did not find any. All the anchors we built were either pro anchors or natural anchors.

I started out leading the odd pitches; Ted the even ones. Since we couldn’t find any bolts we only loosely followed the topo and built an anchor to belay the follower when we found the best fit spot. The climb was not as good as expected, in my opinion; I felt that if a route is described as a classic, it should have offered a lot more. There were indeed some highlights: When I followed the second pitch, the finger and hand crack was beautiful, even though it was in fact a face climb; however, if one wants to practice some crack climbing, he could throw in some crack moves. There was a short section of chimney-like feature in the last pitch I led; since it was also a bit overhanging, the move required some commitment—short and sweet. The psychologically haunting part was the last section of the same pitch; it was a run out and I had to step on sketchy hollow flakes, and therefore I walked as careful as a cat.

During the climb, I was also looking across at a route locating in Jackrabbit Buttress, Northeast Face. It was the 8-pitch Aquarium (5.9). The line looked fun and seemed to contain many features, and the top must have sweet views. Only the first two pitches are 5.9s, and the rest is easy. However, the first 5.9 is a overhang and the second 5.9 is a 5.9 run out and the 5th pitch has some off-width 5.8. I had to be realistic so I jotted it down in my to-do list.

The hike down was kind of tedious. And because we had to hike down another gully, not the one leading to the base of the climb, we had to hike back up to gather our left-behind stuff. The approach and descent combined was much longer than the climb and I felt that the climb was not worth the effort; Ted agreed. If I were the author of the guidebooks, I would rate the climb as a 2-star rather than a 3. In any rate, Ted and I enjoyed each other’s company and we both felt confident that our team would grow to be a solid one.

The attempt of Mount Wilson I did with Jason on April 5 almost drained my energy, and therefore I had no interest to do any long routes the next day. I obtained mutual understanding with my new partner Constance and we decided to go to Lotta Balls Wall at First Creek Canyon on April 6. Even though the approach to Lotta Balls Wall was not exactly short (about one hour of hiking), the terrain was super easy and sweet. Furthermore, there were many doable short routes (3-4 pitches) on that wall, which made our climbing plan flexible.

On the morning of April 6, I woke up when it was too hot to stay in the tent. It was 8 am; I had a nice, long rest. The morning tempo was relaxing—neither Constance nor I wanted to rush. Oh, this reminds me of another good thing about First Creek Canyon—the parking lot is outside of the 13-mile scenic loop, so we did not have to worry about the closing time of the loop. We were sweating on our way in because we were under the sun most of the time.

At the base, Constance asked me what I wanted to do while flaking the rope. She wanted to do some 5.9s such as Lost Marble; however, I felt more comfortable climbing something easier first since we had never climbed with each other before. Being ambitious is admirable but jumping right into the unknown is stupid—I learned the lesson a hard way and I did not plan to make the same mistake. We settled our decision on Lotta Balls. According to the guidebook, it was a 4-pitch climb: 5.7, 5.8+, 5.7 and easy 5th class. She expressed that she was in training so she wanted to lead the harder pitches. Her proposal was that she would lead the first two pitches and I could lead the remaining and if I wanted to do some harder stuff, I could go ahead and do some 5.9s afterward. I did not like her proposal so I countered it with a compromise, I said, “I want to swap leads; how about I let you lead the crux pitch, and I lead the odd pitches.”

This occurred to me as brand new experience. Why so? This was the first time I talked this much with a new partner before I even left the ground. I consider this healthy. Before Constance, I climbed with Jon and Jason, and I did not communicate much with either of them. When the terrain is easy, lack of communication or mutual understanding does not pose a threat; however, when the climb gets more demanding, it becomes a hazard and creates unnecessary risk.

I took the sharp end and started leading the first pitch. I was moving slowly giving my muscles a chance to recover. At some point I got lured to the left because there was a good ledge. After I realized the bolt anchor was on the right, I down climbed from the ledge and traversed to the right and clipped in. I belayed Constance to me and she was also taking her time climbing, slow and steady.

She clipped in and looked up to assess the second pitch. She felt that the start of the second pitch looked kind of intimidating and she quoted the guidebook that the crux pitch is “a delicate lead.” I agreed with her comment and observation. From the bolt anchor to the first bolt was not that bad; one has to make some committing moves but she can have a good stance to clip the bolt and rest. The second bolt is not too far from the first bolt, but the terrain in between is exposed and only offers little chips and knobs for hands and feet. Some of my climbing friends would have described the terrain as “the holds are a bit thin.”

She took off, and clipped in the first bolt without a problem. She looked and looked and we started another conversation. She felt that she should be able to clip into the next bolt but she was pretty worried about what was after the second bolt because the holds looked thinner. I tried to encourage her and told her to take as long as she wanted since she was in a good stance. She moved up a bit and came back down, and told me that she was scared. I tried to cheer her up and in the meantime really paid full attention to her. Ryan who she met at the base and was climbing a route left of ours encouraged her as well, “Constance, you can do this!” She tried again but she came back down again saying that she really wanted to do this but was scared and decided not to lead this. I lowered her to me and started to prepare for leading—you know, taking the lead rack, flipping the rope and so on.

I took a deep breath because I was nervous. I was not sure why I was so nervous. Was that because Constance was scared or the route was intimidating or both? I told myself that I could do this and if I wanted I could always bail. I climbed up, clipped into the first bolt and rested a bit on the tiny ledge. I continued up very carefully, still nervous and a bit scared. I slowly put my weight onto the little knobs, not really trusting them because I knocked off something similar last time I was in Red Rocks; however the knobs turned out to be very trust-worthy, and I managed to clip into the second bolt also in a slow motion. I took another deep breath.

From the second bolt to the next ledge, in my opinion, was the crux of this crux pitch. The holds were worse and the terrain was still exposed and I was too nervous for no reason. I felt that my muscles were too tense because of my mental state; I made a reluctant decision to “take” so that I could shake off my arms and legs. I took another and another deep breath. I moved up little by little, reminding myself to breathe…and the seemingly nice hand hold was being approached within my reach. I had to hop to grab it, ah-ha, it was a super positive jug. Damn, I like jugs but I never knew that I might in fact love them. I climbed up to the ledge and took a good break. The climb started to ease off. Only the last ten feet to the belay station was a bit awkward. I guess the feature, a crack in a corner, explains it all.

Constance did a great job leading the third pitch. By the time I was belaying Constance at the top of the second pitch, the sun had already abandoned us. Worse thing was the wind picked up and I had to shake my body intentionally and unintentionally to keep myself warm. I saw a couple climbers to our right, who were climbing Black Magic; they were also cold and surprisingly they were in short cotton T-shirts! We talked about how climbers usually do not have enough body fat to deal with cold, and how weird the desert weather is. Eventually I heard the most beautiful voice, “Ting Ting, you are on belay,” which meant I could move and that meant I could get warm. I had some issue cleaning a nut and had to use a biner as a hammer trying to knock the nut off from many different angles. Shortly after that, I climbed to Constance and finished the last easy section.

I met three girls on the top and another girl was leading behind us. Earlier I also saw a female leader leading a pitch or two of Black Magic, plus Constance and I, I saw 7 female climbers and at least 5 of them led something. This is awesome; I love to see woman in the outdoors, not to mention how exciting that is to see women leading on real rocks. The descent was a combination of rappelling and hike. When we got back to the base, it was about 4 pm and the wind was howling. Since Constance needed to drive to LA, we called it a day and hiked out. I really enjoyed the outing. First Creek Canyon is a wonderful area for short multi-pitches. In fact, I came back on the last day of my stay in Red Rocks and climbed Black Magic.

Jason has a dream to climb to the top of Mount Wilson; I don’t blame him. Mount Wilson does have its spell. Looking at Mount Wilson from the parking lot of Old Oak Creek Campground, I bet I am not the only one who wonders how much space is up there – is it a sharp ridge or a wide ledge?

The night before April 5, Jason described his proposed route Sentimental Journey with extra passion, “Ting Ting, we can do this.” The route does not have much information in the guidebook: a photo, and less than a hundred words…”One of Red Rock’s oldest routes and a big step into the unknown…” I read it loudly, my eyebrows were frowning. I was not too sure but I surrendered to Jason’s persuasion. Jason was bold and I was naïve.

I woke up Jason at 5 am in the morning. Jason’s friend Ali instructed us to yell “Mount Wilson” and took a shot. We packed much extra stuff: another rope, all the layers we had got, water and food. The route winds 2000 feet and we were ready to bivy.

The approach was not good karma. Right after we started to scramble, Jason asked me to go ahead because he needed a bathroom break. However, he after all took a different approach than me. At many points, we yelled at each other but never could confirm where each other was. Most of the time, my yells did not even get a response. After climbing up and back down several times attempting to regroup with him and failed, I decided to get to the base on my own. It was not easy because it involved much 5th class climbing with a backpack and some scary down climbs. With caution, I eventually arrived. It took us more than two hours to get to the base and the guidebook estimates one and three quarters.

I looked at the first pitch; it was basically a crack in a corner. It did not look too difficult but when Jason asked me to “take,” I started to doubt my assessment. During the whole climb, which was about 100 feet, Jason asked me to take three times and I also heard some “yeeh-hah” and “yahoo” after he passed some sections. I was shocked and concluded that this climb must be more than just a 5.9.

It was my time to follow up, and the follower carries the pack, and the pack was heavy. I could not even start. After a few tries, I decided to climb an easy section left of the route and swing to the right to clean the gear. After I cleaned the first piece of pros, I still could not climb up the crack from that point. I asked Jason to lower me down and I came back up from the left and traversed to the right to clean the second piece of pros. At this time, I was at a better stance and the climb seemed to become a bit easier.

I climbed up and Jason instructed me enthusiastically that the section I was about to cover required lie-backing. That was it. I could not climb with the backpack. I asked Jason to drop some rope. I re-attached myself to the middle of the rope, tied the backpack to the end and dropped it to the ground. I kept climbing but it was not easy; it was not a 5.9 to me and I had to take a break a couple times. What was even worse was I did not give enough slack to the backpack and it became an issue. I hauled the backpack up and set it straight but a knot I forgot to untie got stuck in the crack down below. I could not move up even though I only got a few feet left.

Jason lowered me down to untangle the rope and originally he wanted me to ascend the rope with his ascender. However, we had spent about three hours in total on this first 100 feet. Jason said, “let’s bail.” I agreed with him with silence. On the way out, my steps were heavy, my heart was sinking, and this was a sentimental journey.

We got back to the campground; it was still early – a little after 4 pm. A girl headed toward us because she read the sign I left a week ago looking for a partner. After Jason asked her about her experience, he actively encouraged us to pair up. I did not engage much in the conversation because my mood was awful. I found an excuse to leave the scene, and on my way driving to town, my tears started to drop non-stop. “I have been here for a week, and I have bailed three routes – rain, injury, and incompetence,” I mumbled, “and I had to take a few rest days.” I was so frustrated because I felt I had got nothing done.

Later that night, I went to a nearby Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf to surf on the Internet. I initiated a dialog with a guy over another table only because I spotted that he had a climbing guidebook. He listened to all my stories or I should say venting patiently and gave me an awakening advice, “You should be comfortable at where you are.” He continued on sharing with me his experience learning from bailing and as well he gave me some route suggestions accommodating my ability and ambition. During the entire chat, I felt that he is a true climber and his advice was pertinent and sincere. My sense matched his identity – at the end, I learned that he is a professional guide working for Chockstone at Smith Rock.

I went back to the campground; Jason and that girl were still chatting. I approached the girl and expressed my late-arriving welcomeness. We decided the next day, we should head to First Creek and do some short routes at Lotta Balls Wall.

Photo: Mount Wilson; Photo Credit: Ben Smith

After resting a couple days after my accident, I figured I could climb again but perhaps should start with something easy. Jason proposed to do the Solar Slab Wall – with a combination of two routes from the base to the top, Beulah’s Book (5.9) and Solar Slab (5.6). This climb offers 1,500 feet of climbing. Given its south-facing nature, it would be a sunny and therefore warm climb.

Beulah’s Book (5.9)? –
(Note: We after all climbed the 5.7 arete variation)

The 5.9 pitch is the second pitch. Since Jason is a stronger climber, I set off to lead the first pitch. Either because we did not start at the right place or I went off route at some point, I climbed almost a rope length to reach a bolt anchor while the first pitch was supposed to be much shorter—130 feet. Looking up, the next pitch above us was an easy climb; I felt sorry that Jason had to settle with a lower grade. Jason jumped on the lead and soon he used all the rope with the intention to link the remaining two pitches to finish the lower tier of Solar Slab Wall. Since that was an easy climb, Jason requested me to simul-climb (for an explanation of simul-climbing, readers can refer to http://www.spadout.com/wiki/index.php/Simul_Climbing). I took myself off from the anchor and shortly after we both were bathing in the sun at the top of the lower tier.

Solar Slab (5.6; with a 5.9 finger crack variation) –

Solar Slab is a 7-pitch climb based on the guidebook. When we arrived at the base of Solar Slab, another party was climbing the first pitch. Jason assured me that he would not fall and asked me whether I would be comfortable simul-climbing again; I nodded so he requested the party for permission to pass them at the first belay anchor.

I started to lead, passed the party, and because of poor communication with Jason at the base, I clipped into the second bolt anchor, and belayed Jason to the spot. Jason was surprised that I stopped because he thought I would have kept climbing until I ran out of gear. However, I thought he wanted me to simul-climb until the second anchor.

He took over the lead and urged me not to forget that this time we were going to simul-climb. I belayed him until I only had a couple feet of rope left, and started to take myself off from the anchor getting ready to climb. I yelled “Jason, climbing!” and soon I heard “Ting Ting, you are on belay.” I did not understand why he abandoned the idea of simul-climbing until I reached a consistent finger crack. The finger crack is a 5.9 variation and to the left it was the original 5.6 route. Jason couldn’t resist the calling from that beautiful finger crack and it was indeed an intriguing and delicate climb. Even though I did not fall on that section, it was definitely a better idea to belay the follower at a 5.9 section.

At that point, we only had 4 pitches left and all of them were easy pitches, so we embraced the idea of simul-climbing again. This time I was the leader and I tried to climb as efficiently as possible, putting protection gear here and there occasionally. Before I almost topped out the sixth pitch of Solar Slab, it started to rain and I started to speed up wanting to finish the climb as soon as possible so we could descend and get layered up.

When I reached the base of the last pitch, the follower of a prior party was just about to climb up. I waited for a while and started to move because of cold. The last pitch started with a 5.4 followed by a 5.5 chimney, I wanted to put some pro at the intersection; however I couldn’t find an appropriate piece because I did not have much gear left. After a couple attempts, I yelled at Jason, “I ran out of gear, I am just gonna free solo this section.” At the top, it stopped raining and the sun came out again. I looked at my watch, it took us only about four hours to finish the climb.

The previous party and we did some 3rd or 4th class travel on the top to find the hike down but we did not have any luck. We therefore decided to rappel down the route, and because they did not bring a second rope, we rappelled down as a party of four. Even though we simul-rappel the whole time, it still took us three hours to get back to the ground. In the process, our rope got stuck once, luckily the party Jason and I passed on our way up helped us to untangle the rope.

I remember that last time when I was in Red Rocks, I planned to do this long route the next time I visit here. I am glad that we pretty much cruised the whole way up, but frankly speaking, if not because of that finger crack, this climb would not have been as enjoyable.

Photo: A night view of Las Vegas
Photo Credit: Ben Smith

After the Red Rock climbing accident, I composed an accident report and sent it to a few of my NOLS instructors. I got some good advice back and would like to share it with my readers here.

By Jared Spaulding (my NOLS Backcountry Rock Climbing Course Instructor)

Some thoughts. 1. It seems like you have put a lot of thought into processing the incident. Good. 2. The write up was very comprehensive, in-depth, and detailed, which is no doubt a result of #1. 3. When I had only read the story (and not yet read the Lessons part) what struck me were the subjective hazards, the new partner, the desire to climb Crimson, and the speaking up when you felt it was neccessary. 4. The objective hazards: the belay position and your “second” rope.

To expound on #1,3,&4

#1 Having had several weeks with you in a technical environment, it does not surprise me that you have processed the incident to this extent. Have you processed it with Jon? I imagine there was no doubt some good conversation and discussion on the way out. Since you have had the time to process the incident, have you been able to talk about it with him? It is good to get his insights as well plus it is useful for his learning. Also, discussing the incident with the ENTIRE team (all four) is a good idea as well (see #4)

#3 The subjective hazards. 5.8 is around your limit. That being said I think you have good judgment. When I climb with new partners in an area that I am comfortable in I often will stay well below my limit. I will climb things I have been on before and know well or things that I know are easy. This allows me a margin of safety in that the first line of protection a climber has is her movement on rock. I realize that you did not fall, however I am putting it out there because you as well were near your limit.

The desire to go up and finish a climb can be a strong aphrodisiac. Up until your partner’s fall, the reasons not to go on seemed to be little: the weather was cold and you were moving slower than planned. You didn’t mention time as a factor so I assume it was still early enough. In the case of crimson chrysalis going slow isn’t too much of an issue because you rap the route. You can turn around when you want to. As for the cold, it is still cold in the shade in Red Rocks in April, so if you have layers, you can deal. This leads me to believe that had the accident not occured you could have continued up, albeit slowly, perhaps finishing the climb (see #4). Once the accident did occur, your desire to climb struck me as unwise, though it can be understandable. It will always be there.

The above leads me to believe that the greatest subjective error that occurred was you not speaking up as often as you should have. This is without a doubt one of the most important things that you can do over your career as a climber, that is, if you want a long one. I would also stress this to be one of the biggest take home points for you. Trust your gut and trust that your partner will either agree, engage in a dialog about the situation, or scorn you. If the latter happens, you probably don’t want to be climbing with this person anyway. The things that you mentioned as things you didn’t speak up about are all very important points. It is your life and well being out there. If you don’t speak up and ask questions or make statements when something doesn’t feel or look right (as you did with him belaying the you off the anchor as a leader–what is with that? I have never heard of belaying the leader off of the anchor–) then no one will. That is judgment. I hope this helps you refine and develop that judgment.

#4 Nice work on wearing helmets. So many don’t at red rocks (or anywhere). You mention that the top of the third pitch (where the incident occurred) was a hanging belay. It can be difficult to get good braced positions at a hanging belay. Due to the nature of hanging belays often when a leader fall is caught one is pulled up and in. Unless you put an upward directional BELOW you it can be hard to alleviate that movement. Sometimes this is a possibility. I most often brace myself with my legs spread shoulder width apart, but this is very situationally dependent.

Your ability to descend safely and efficiently is tied directly to the other team you are climbing with (no pun intended) When you climb as a group of four in order to share ropes for a descent, you stay together. Had adam not been directly below you you would have had a much harder time getting down. You were lucky to have another group right behind, and a group who could lend you a rope. When you both need the ropes, both teams need to stay in sight of each other, or have walkie talkies or working cell phones. Communication is paramount. You go up as a group of four and you come down as a group of four.

By Ben Krasnow (my NOLS Denali Mountaineering Course Instructor)

However, keep in mind while climbing, that little mistakes add up quickly. It seems to me that you started to notice little things going wrong along the way. This often becomes a precursor for a big mistake or accident, so try to be aware of things adding up……….or not adding up.

If you remember on Denali, I was usually very strict with little mistakes that students made because I didn’t want them to add up to one big one, in such a harsh environment.

Climbing is extremely dangerous. People get seriously injured or die quite frequently. Make sure that your assessments of risk is accurate and that the rewards are worth the risk for you.

I signed up for Red Rock Rendezvous 2008 and headed to Las Vegas on Friday March 28. Since I had a potential climbing partner lined up in Joshua Tree, I decided to give myself about three weeks to stay in the area. If I was not able to hook up with a partner in Red Rocks, I would just head to Joshua Tree after the rendezvous.

03/29/2008 –

Hop Route Direct (5.8)

Early in the morning, when I was just waking up in my tent, my cell rang. Jon, who was also a participant of the rendezvous, asked me whether I wanted to climb in the morning. Since my clinic was not until the afternoon, I sorted out my trad climb gear and headed out with Jon to a route suggested by a local climber, Fran. The route is located in Ice Box Canyon, and it matched its name – when we were not in the sun, it was freezing cold.

To the right of Hop Route Direct is Hop Route. The only difference between these two routes is the first pitch – Hop Route starts with a 5.7, Hop Route Direct a 5.8. I looked at both of them and decided to do the 5.8. Last time when I was in Red Rocks – it was about 3 months ago – I knew that I was capable leading 5.8’s. I wanted to lead as many 5.8’s as possible so that I will become a confident 5.8 leader and work my way up.

I climbed up in a very controlled version – even though I was confident, as a matter of fact, I hadn’t climbed trad for months. It’s always a good idea to ease into it. It was an uneventful lead; I clipped into a bolt anchor and let Jon lead the second pitch; we then rappelled down and headed out.

Chrysler Crack (5.9)

The clinic I signed up for at the rendezvous was called “The Tricks for Off-Width.” I learned some crack climbing techniques last August when I took the NOLS Backcountry Rock Climbing Course. Crack Climbing really intrigued me – the reasons are: 1) cracks are by nature astonishing rock features; 2) when you click with the crack climbing techniques, the climbing becomes surprisingly intuitive and fun; 3) crack climbing is a must if I want to become an all-around climber. Among all sizes and types of cracks, off-width cracks are the most difficult, which means they can give climbers tremendous fun and a great sense of accomplishment.

I missed the bus but luckily I caught the group in the parking lot in the 13-mile scenic loop. Instructor Joe De Luca took the group to this route called Chrysler Crack. I was stunned when I arrived at the site. It was a beautiful beautiful crack and I felt like I was in Indian Creek. The crack starts with a size for a climber to jam his thigh, and it gradually widens up and becomes a squeeze chimney around the top. A thin finger crack leads to the top-rope anchor. There are no features on the face, so climbers must climb the crack – there is no way around it.

Joe started to prepare everybody for the climb. Two concepts I felt the most useful before taking off are: 1) Relax and watch your breathing; 2) There is no way you can “move” in an off-width crack because by nature climbers can only “inch” up. Climbing off-width cracks can be strenuous, and therefore being on top of your breathing rhythm is extremely important. Otherwise one can exhaust oneself easily and huffing and puffing will be their destiny. In an off-width, one has to separate his body parts and move one at a time. The motion of any climber in an off-width will resemble that of an inchworm. So you have to be patient, and don’t think you are too slow. Once you’ve got the momentum going, you can be a happy, fast-moving inchworm.

Everybody started with a “knee bar,” in which a climber puts their knee into the crack and jams with the thigh putting the foot outside the crack against the wall. Knee bar is super secured and is a good rest position. Since the crack is at a right-facing corner, I had to pu