We Found It!

Back in the fall of ‘98, back when bouldering was just picking up as a pursuit of it’s own, back when Zig was known as Ziggy, he bought a crashpad.  For some at UNB Rock & Ice, it was the first one we’d seen.  Keen to put it to use, he convinced a handful of us to take a trip from campus to this big boulder that was supposed to rest somewhere between Bald Peak, and the quarry in Welsford, NB.

The way I remember it, Zig(gy) had heard about a boulder that had been climbed free or used by the previous generation to practice aid.  He had some idea of where it might be, but wasn’t sure about any of it.  Chris, Eddy, Jordy, and I joined him.  We were not really sure what we were getting into, but certainly it was going to be better than studying.  

We parked at the Welsford School, back when it actually was a school, and walked across the ball field to the Bald Peak trailhead, then turned left and down the overgrown road to the abandoned quarry.  Ziggy suggested we keep our eyes peeled for anything that might be a boulder since all he had gathered from his research were the three boundaries (road, quarry, trail) that encompassed a rather large and densely forested slope.  As he led the procession, the rest of us were quickly distracted by the novelty of watching a black rectangle with matching legs waddle ahead, so we didn’t do a good job boulder spying.  

Without a word (those of you who know him, probably didn’t need me to write that) he dashed from the road and up the hill.  The slope looked no different here than anywhere else, but we followed him and a few minutes later we were at THE boulder.  At its base was a handle from an old wire brush, with less than a dozen rusty bristles remaining. On the other side were a few stumps that had obviously been sawn many years previous as they were showing a fair bit of rot.  We cleaned off some dirt, moss, and lichen exposing a couple of really easy problems, that even then weren’t considered anything but descent options.  The real climbing was on the other side, but it seemed impossibly hard.  Even an aid ascent would be difficult to imagine.

Nearby, and towards the quarry, we found a number of smaller angular boulders with a problem or two each.  Actually, judging by some of the drill scars, they were probably part of the quarry.  We spent the rest of the day on these, and getting footage for “Bouldering, EH?!” the first production by ZigTV.  (Highly recommended, by the way, to anyone with a sense of humour and an interest in what it used to be like back when UNB R & I membership was about 12 misfits, back when there were not much more than 12 boulder problems in the province.)

Top to bottom: Zig, Eddy, Chris, back in 1998

A couple years later Eddy moved to BC, then Korea.  I went to Montreal.  Ziggy moved to Halifax, and Chris to Vancouver.  I’m not sure where Jordy went.  He did end up back in Fredericton last I knew, but no longer climbs around these parts.  

Five or six years after that first and only visit, with a crash pad to call my own, I decided to go find this boulder again.  I spent hours back and forth between the road, quarry and trail, but could not find it.  I went back later in the week and tried again. No luck.  Hummer joined me one day. We found a couple near the top of the trail, but didn’t find THE boulder.  I asked Zig and Chris if they could remember any details of it’s location.  They had nothing, but thought I was looking in the right area.  I asked some of the older generation climbers if they knew where to find it.  They did not.  

I’ve lost track of how many times and over how many years I’ve searched for that thing.  I tried when the underbrush was blanketed in crusty snow, in the spring before the leaves obstructed the view, in the fall so something might look familiar...  The best I could do was find the small angular stuff, but that was easy (to see and to send) because it was right on the edge of the quarry.

Fast forward to March of this year, and Dom and I went to Sunnyside.  It wasn’t sunny, and was colder than forecasted.  Our early March climbing day came to an early end.  With time and energy to burn, we decided to hike out to a boulder he found in the fall near the cabin, then to explore the area between the quarry, road, and Bald Peak trail for the elusive boulder.  Unless you’ve forgotten the title of this post, you know that we found it.  And it is as tall and as blank as I remembered!

This past Monday evening, Dom, Matt and I, went back out to the boulder.  Despite having left a trail marker in March, I did manage to get us temporarily lost on our way in, but we did get there.

We only took a couple of attempts each at the central gem. A route up the tiny sloping holds spread far on the overhanging face is climbable.  If we can figure out good beta it will be at least V6.  More likely it will be much, much harder.  Since nearly every feature is sloping and left facing, I doubt there are clean aid placements, and there are no scars from hammers/drills or seams for pins.  It is amazing to think that this was climbed in high-tops, by a local “nobody” (not some sponsored pro legend), without a pad, and without fanfare some 25 years ago.

Left to right, Tito, Dom, Matt, this week on the mysterious, legendary and elusive boulder in Welsford, NB

Periodized Training 4 (Strength)

My strength phase wrapped up on Friday, and as I move into the power phase, I realize my posts about the programme have fallen behind.  My adherence to the programme has not wavered, though.  I’ve made big gains in terms of strength, and the training adaptations are really beginning to show in my climbing.

The training volume was halved, and spread out over four resistance training days, rather than three.  This was as much for scheduling convenience as it was for how well the selected exercises grouped in fours.  Most weeks, I trained two days on, one-off, two-on, two-off.  Day one focused on 3D overhead pulls; day 2 on squatting and overhead presses; day 3 on dips and rotational pulls; day 4 on squatting and rotational pushes.  Days 1 and 3 were the most climbing-specific, with 2 and 4 more for general strength (and spotting, I guess).  

Training four weeks out of five, I was able to progress the loads linearly.  Week 3 was one of “active rest”, spent on the slopes.  Most exercises were performed in 3 sets of 5 throughout the phase.  Some of the simpler movements used a 5-4-3 scheme for weeks 2 and 5.  I got strong!

With regards to climbing practice, a bit of a wrinkle interfered with my plans:  We had nice enough conditions to climb outside a few days, and I took advantage of the opportunity.  We tended towards easy climbs which was a tonne of fun, but not the greatest for honing strength gains made in the weight room.  Regardless, I did climb or practice 3 sessions each week.  

Kermit the Tiger, before the hold relocation.

I took down all the holds from Kermit, then replaced them oriented to emphasize 3 finger-1 pad usage.  A few pinches and 2-finger pockets rounded things out.  I didn’t set any problems.  Every couple of minutes, I would get on the wall and string together 2-5 hard moves, climbing with very precise and deliberate movements.  Rarely did I do the same abbreviated problem more than once.  The focus was on maximal strength, so 3 moves on shitty hand holds was the goal.  Rarely did I fall/fail, which I wanted to avoid as the sudden shock load carries some injury risk which isn’t worth it at this point.  I’d usually lower off after sticking a particularly difficult move and holding it for a few seconds.  I got strong!

The reason for giving so much attention to a 3 finger-1 pad grip requires a more in-depth discussion than I have time for now, but I’ll post about that in detail shortly.

This Could Get Expensive

At 11:30 this morning, with the sun shining and the revised weather forecast looking dry for at least another 4 hours, I decided to go out to Munson Lake to do some trail work and exploring around Mega Crystals.  

By 12:30, I was on Seven Mile Lake Rd, which was in great condition: dry, flat and firm, with new fill added to some of the low points.  Turning onto Munson Lake Rd was a bit wet, but very solid, the only sign of spring conditions was the heaved culvert.  About a kilometre in, I approached a wet spot, so veered away from the mud tracks and towards the dry gravel shoulder. CLUNK! I stopped moving. (Expletives!)  I got out, grabbed the shovel, and walked around to the passenger side.  I stepped onto the dry gravel and sunk in above my boot top.  (Expletives!) The soft sand and gravel, though dry on the surface, was absolutely saturated muck.  Honest to goodness quicksand!  There was no way I could shovel my car free. (Expletives!) Take a scoop out and it filled right back in. Wedging rocks for traction was futile as well.  I dug out my phone.  The battery was dead.  (Expletives!) Time to start walking.

Though I was careless to not charge my phone before leaving, and overzealous to try driving there, and cocky to continue on a wet road, and stupid to go alone, I did bring extra clothes and food.  So I packed them and headed back towards civilization.  Not surprisingly, the three nearest camps were vacant, but after about 3 or 4 Km of walking, I met four people standing around a couple of ATVs.  As I approached, they scattered, got on the bikes and averted my gaze.  An uncomfortable feeling came over me.  “Excuse me.  I went off the road back there, and am going to need a tow truck.  Would one of you happen to have a phone that I could borrow?”  

They asked what I was driving, where it was, then said they could probably get it out with their vehicles.  I doubted it, and told them so, but they insisted it was worth a try.  I figured if they’re volunteering to help, I should take it.  The whole conversation was odd though.  They spoke in abrupt monotone phrases and used no gestures.  They didn’t seem to look at anything or anyone in particular as they spoke.  Their faces, partially obscured by their helmets, seemed blank and expressionless.  

I turned around and hesitantly began the walk back to my car.  They mounted their steeds without a word, then sped past me.  The uneasy feeling returned, as my thoughts were swept up with the comparison between this exchange and the one between the canoeists and the Griner family in Deliverance.  One of these guys even had bad teeth...

I walked for close to a kilometre before I saw one of them coming back towards me.  It was the one with the bad teeth.  He handed me a helmet, but didn’t really say anything.  I thanked him and put it on, then climbed on the back of the ATV.  

♬ Deele-dee deedle-dee deedle-dee-dee-dum(b)...♬

We got to my car and three of the four started to talk a bit.  I managed to pick up two names: Dave  and Cody.  They hooked up the ATVs in series with a winch, and used some rope to try to pull out my car.  It made more sense to me to attach both vehicles to my own and have them pull parallel to one another, but I figured if they’re volunteering to help, I should take it.  I got in and started the engine.  As I shifted into reverse I heard a clang.  This could get expensive, I thought...

No one gave a start signal.  I saw that the lead ATV had started to pull, so I came off the clutch with the engine revving and tires spinning.  Of course the middle vehicle was late, and the under-sized winch cable snapped.  My car hadn’t even rocked.

We got everything untied, and as they debated who’d take me to the highway, I said if they’d take me as far as the store, I’d buy them a case of beer.  I’m not sure if that gift was considered unnecessary or inadequate, but they laughed at my proposal.  Eventually, it was settled that Dave would drive me and that the others should wait at my car for him to return, so that no one would shoot out my windows.  This could get very expensive, I thought...

He dropped me off near the off ramp. I thanked him.  As Dave took off, a car came to the top of the ramp. I ran over and asked for a drive to the store.  This nice family obliged kindly.

***

I asked the clerk if I could use the phone.  She asked what number, so I handed her the key fob with the Nissan roadside assistance number stamped on it.  Apparently not everyone knows that you must dial “1” before the “800”.  She tried and failed a second time.  When a customer came to the counter she directed me to a payphone outside.

I gave Jay, the operator, the information.  For some reason they have to ask if the car will be drivable once it’s removed from the mud and what type of tow truck would be needed.  “I can’t see under the car to tell if there’s anything damaged. I’m not a mechanic or a tow truck operator.  How should I know?”  He put me on hold to arrange a tow.  

He came back 5 minutes later asking how long it would take me to get back to the car.  I said 3 hours.  He put me on hold again.  Ten minutes passed this time.  He came back saying he thinks he found a truck that would be willing to pick me up at the store, and asked me more details of the cars location. (I will be in the cab with the driver and can show him the way, but apparently more complicated map work is required to satisfy some manger in Toronto, or Japan, or Bangalore.)  He put me on hold for another 10 minutes.  He said since it’s a seasonal road (no signs or barricades saying it’s so) the recovery may not be covered by roadside assistance and I may have to pay for it.  This could get very, very expensive, I thought...

Again, he put me on hold for 15 minutes.  He came back saying he couldn’t find anyone with a 4WD tow truck in the area, that maybe one might be available Monday at the earliest.  The cars situation was only going to worsen as the temperatures drop, I explained, and the rains forecasted will only make the road worse.  I assured him a two-wheel drive would be adequate.  Obviously the road is in good shape if I could drive to that point.  Hold again.  

Five minutes later Jay got back on the line and said no one wants to drive out there and risk getting their truck stuck.  I asked what I could do.  I was stranded.  This could get very, very, very expensive, I thought...

“Well, if it’s an emergency you could call the local or provincial police”, Jay said.

“What will they do?” I asked.  He didn’t reply.

I asked if they called everyone of if they only dealt with one local tow company.  “We have a few”, he replied.  

“Well can you tell me which ones, so I know who not to try calling, if I can manage to get some quarters?”

“Uh...no I can’t”

I called to a gentleman leaving the store as he walked towards his muddy Toyota Tacoma.  I explained my situation, and asked if he knew of anyone nearby who might have a big off-road truck with a winch.  He said no, but he’d be willing to try to help with his quarter ton 4x4.

Back on the phone with Jay, we agreed that we were getting nowhere with roadside assistance service, so we both might as well hang up.  Which we did.

While this was happening, the man with the muddy Tacoma spoke to his wife who had pulled into the parking lot behind him.  She seemed to support his offer to help me.

I thanked both of them and climbed into the truck.  We introduced ourselves as we drove.  Jason is a very nice man, and we spoke in French and English the whole way out.  We connected our vehicles with a tow strap.  I put the car in reverse, he gave a signal and pulled the little Versa back onto the road.  Quick and easy.  I turned it around and he followed me all the way back to the highway just in case I got stuck again.  Though it had been snowing for about an hour now and the dirt roads were wet and softening, the driving was still pretty easy, and uneventful.  Back on pavement, I thanked Jason again, then poked my head under my car to see that all was intact. 

 Relief!

I’ll be sending him some beer and jerky (as those are the only two foods that came up in our conversation, and he enjoys them both) as a thank you. 

On the drive home, I considered the practicality of that little Tacoma, and how well it not only drove those roads, but hauled my car from the mire.  I need a truck.  This could get expensive, I thought....

I'm Melting at Sugarloaf!

Monday with all vents open, my sleeves and pants rolled up (I got a nice tan line two thirds the way up my forearms) it was too hot.  So Tuesday morning I tried this:

9am and already overdressed at Snowflower, Sugarloaf USA. (M Goodman photo)

It was too much.  The mesh shirt had to remain (due to the lift ticket),  but it spent the week unzipped and with the sleeves pushed up.  The light weight long johns came off an hour after this photo was taken and I remained bare kneed to enjoy the slush spray on my descents.

On each ride up the chair, we could identify a new patch of dirt or a few rocks that had been exposed by the rapid melting.  With evening temperatures quite comfortable by June standards, nothing solidified overnight.  By Thursday noon only a few runs remained open.  The patrollers had declared all terrain “Experts Only” –even the greens– due to the proficiency required to route-find, dodge rocks, jump gaps, and skim the flowing brooks on every run. 

Spillway viewed from the Skyline Quad; one of the(desperately) skiable runs that was open Thursday morning, and closed after lunch. (C Goodman Photo)

With no crowds, beautiful weather, and friendly staff it was a good trip all round.  Having climbed outside in T-shirts a few times already this year, I wasn’t in the mood to bundle up in layers anyway!

There was one exception to the friendly Sugarloaf staff, though.  On the hill at the Shipyard Brew Haus, was the rudest bartender I’ve encountered in a long time. When an older couple asked what types of Dark Ales they had, he snapped “all kinds” paused for a second while the other bartender started reciting the list, and as she got about 4 brews in, he told them to “hurry up and make a decision”.  Another gentleman came up to the bar and placed an order, which he paid for and tipped 4$ (for 4 drinks).  Rudy McAsshole yelled to the other bartender: “Looks like you won’t be paying off any of your student loan tonight!”  

It's Too Hot To Be Skiing

It’s not often you can come back from a day of skiing, take a shower, then sit outside in nothing but a bathing suit at 5pm, and still be comfortably warm.  But here I am at Sugarloaf/USA doing just that.  The  thermometer may a bit generous in saying it’s 30º –that’s over 90ºF for you dumb Americans– but it’s awfully close with no wind and few clouds.  I regret not packing shoes as I could probably find a few boulders worth playing on in the evenings.

Thermometer evidence; my little cuz on the porch after a day at the 'Loaf (C Goodman Photo)

Two days ago, we had a crowd at Cedar Point.  Though it was warm, it wasn’t quite this hot!  Nonetheless, it was a fun day.  I repeated fah-JAI-tah, and think the grade is close enough (then again, I don’t care).  Hennigar and Dom got on it as well, but without success.  So they couldn’t lock down the grade. 

Hennigar on Happy Birthday To Me 5.9 (C Goodman photo)

C Goodman on Yousquer Ma Cell 5.10b (M Harnois photo)

Five New Problems (and a Sixth)

Saturday, Dom,  I, and his dogs decided to attempt a drive out to Munson Lake.  Forecasted highs just above the freezing mark, with full sun sounded promising for climbing, but we were not sure if the road would be passable.  We got there early and most of the main road was firm enough to get through without too much trouble.  At the final fork, things were quite iced up, but we decided to descend to the West and hope for the best to climb this frozen hard pack at the end of the day.

We started with some trail work and final scrubbing of the Small Slab, then quickly put up new problem 1; a standing start on a subtle overhang then balance moves over the bulge to a steep slab.

Problem 2, follows thin edges left then up a couple easier slab moves to the summit.

Dom C on the FA of  problem 2 (Rockitecture V3)

 Problem 3 is a really easy slab.

Problem 3: Slab Moi Ça V0, with C Goodman looking down at Gendron the lousy spotter. 

As I took a break for lunch Dom, put up the fourth new problem of the day just across the street on the Mace boulder.  It's another short section of overhanging leading to a long low-angled slab.  He named it Flail, after the weapon (to fit nicely with it's neighbour) as well as what he did while figuring out the hand-jam off the start...

...Meanwhile, back in Saint John, Norfolk was experiencing problem 6 at Cedar Point...

...Back at Munson, the road was a sloppy mess by this time.  Though it looked like we parked on a good gravely mix, it was so soft the car was up to the hubcaps in muck when we tried to drive to another spot.  So, after playing on 7-10 we went for an exploratory hike towards the river.  We found one really nice boulder (and a couple mediocre-looking ones) as well as the decent camping spot we were looking for, right by a spot on the river with good swimming potential.

We could see the ice crystals forming in the mud, but the road was still too soft to be driven, so with fading light we scrubbed and sent new problem number 5.  It is a standing start left of Curvy Trunk Cedar, on the North arete.  This line was noted on our first visit, as it has a nice aesthetic, but the landing looked questionable and the moves even more so.  As a result, no one had bothered to do more than look.  In the end, it's a nice problem that protects fairly well with 2 pads and a spotter, and is much much easier than anyone would have guessed.

Curvy Trunk Cedar

The road followed the sun's example and began to set.  The dogs could were no longer leaving prints 8-10 cm deep, and it felt almost firm under foot in places.  We felt it was time to try for an exit.  The West road was pretty good, and after crossing the bridge I gunned it up the ice hill with minimal slippage.  The rest of the Munson Lake road was gross, however.  What looked soft was soft.  What looked solid was also soft.  I scraped the bottom of the car many times as the wheels sunk up to the hubcaps, but we made it through on momentum and fart gas.

It will be many weeks before it's reasonable to attempt another trip on those roads.

Cedar Point is Open for the Season

Last night I received a few texts from Dom inquiring about the conditions at Cedar Point.  I doubted much would be dry.   We had a lot of rain and there's still a fair bit of snow on the ground,  so I feared wet rock.  The forecasted SSW wind may help dry things, he suggested, but from that direction it tends to funnel up the quarry pretty intensely.  With a high of 3-6 degrees it may be unbearable out there.

Three of them came down anyway, and to our collective surprise conditions were good, and the wind was calm.  The sun didn't come out, but temps were pleasant.  There were small patches of seepage, but everything was climbable, and at least 2/3 of the routes were completely dry.

Here are some pics from today.

Dom C on Yousquer Ma Cell 5.10b at Cedar Pt.

There were a number of small icebergs floating by.  None made it into this shot, but you can still see plenty of snow on the other side of the river.

Dom C on La Mére à Luc Pis Des Buritos 5.9 at Cedar Point

As you can see, there were just a few wet spots.

Dom C on tor-TIL-lah 5.10b at Cedar Point

Hats off to Greg K, who may have been the first person to on-sight the fun but confusing features of tor-TIL-lah.  Unfortunately the pics didn't turn out, so we've got to settle for another one of Dom.