Here’s a video of some kickass First Ascent Chicks sent in by Girly Guide Caroline George. These Chicks are climbing big mountains, scaling some impressive water ice and ripping it downhill. Check it out, and enjoy!
Posts Tagged ‘Caroline George’
Some inspiring Chicks!
Thursday, October 13th, 2011Next Summit: Motherhood
Wednesday, August 31st, 2011We are so psyched to hear this amazing news from Caroline! Congratulations to you and Adam 
Caroline George on Cosmiques Ridge, photo by Michele Gilbert
Life goes in stages. For me at least, it does. You go through college, graduate and wonder: “What’s next?” You find your dream job, settle into it and one morning you look at yourself in the mirror and wonder: “What’s next?” I have a passion: climbing. And I am always wondering what the next climb is going to be. But to give it more meaning, I decided to become a guide and communicate my passion to others. So, I went through the guide’s training to become fully IFMGA certified. I built my own company and clientele and have been loving every moment of it, along with my career as an athlete for First Ascent and other companies (Petzl, Julbo, Scarpa). But one morning, after a very busy season, I woke up, looked at myself in the mirror and wondered: “What’s next?”
Well, truth be told, it didn’t happen quite that “overnight.” I have always thought that the day I have kids, my climbing life would end. Climbing, guiding, being a professional athlete, etc. would disappear from my life, and I therefore needed to do every climb I possibly could before then. I wouldn’t say that the pressure came as much from my environment as it did from me. I knew I should have kids, but I didn’t know when the right time would be, after which climb I should decide to give it all up for kids. My dad had often said that he hadn’t done some of the climbs he wanted to do because he wanted to be a responsible parent, which is most likely why I always felt that my life as a professional would end with children. Maybe it’s in response to that that I decided to become a guide so that the day I would have kids I could justifiably still go out and play, all the while working and getting some exercise and coming home without the need to go out and do more training.
That said, 2011 has so far been one of the most prolific and exciting years of my life. I got to climb in Antarctica, Thailand, Jordan, ski-guide all over the Alps (Silvretta, Bernina, Haute Route, etc.), climb the Supercouloir with one of my best friends, Tania, do a one-day ascent of the north face of the Eiger with my husband, Adam, move into a great apartment that Adam remodeled while I was away guiding in Antarctica and many other great moments shared with friends and family.
Filled with all of these great experiences, I hit a bit of a wall in May. I was climbing with Adam on the Grand Capucin, one of the most world-class and spectacular peaks in the world, no less, when I realized that as much I loved climbing and guiding, I suddenly felt the urge for something more to balance out my life. Too much of a good thing can kill a good thing, is the saying, right?
As I climbed up the soaked blank granite face, I realized that I just didn’t want to be there. A tough realization for a climber. I reached Adam and with tears in my voice and in my eyes, I told him that I just wanted to be home and make babies. With a look of terror in his eyes, he said, “You freak me out!” Yet, as hormones would have it, I got pregnant that night (I like to think so; it makes for a better story)—or around that time. I quickly found out that I was pregnant and was elated. It’s not that I had wanted it that badly, but it felt like it was the right time for it. When I turned 25, I decided I should graduate from law school. When I turned 35 (this year), I knew that I should start thinking more seriously about kids. And I did. I think that I had known for a long time, that this year would be the year because last year, when I was trying to ascend Moonlight Buttress in Zion, I was so sad that winter arrived so early, preventing me from getting back on it, because I already knew deep down that I would be pregnant the following year.
That feeling of elation faded with the realization that, well, I was pregnant. Not just in concept, but for real. Something was growing inside of me, something that would change my life as I know it forever. My Dad’s words had ruled my concept of parenthood, and I always felt that as a consequence my life as a climber should end with pregnancy. So I went from being elated to being downright sad, grieving the life I had worked so hard to build for myself, grieving my identity, wanting this baby but resenting it, feeling guilty for having these emotions that I was sure the baby would feel. I was confused, torn between what I thought I should feel and what I felt.
Alongside these personal feelings, I was also confused about my guiding. I didn’t know how good or bad it was for the baby that I was going up and down mountains on a daily basis, guiding, taking risks, and more so, putting the baby at risk. That baby has been up more mountains than most could dream of in a lifetime! (My mom recently told me that the baby was going to be born with a backpack on this shoulders.)
July was a really difficult month for me. I was two months into my pregnancy and felt extremely stressed out about the idea of hurting the baby, with the constantly unstable weather patterns and having to modify all my guiding days and many other aspects of my life.
I think it took getting injured for me sit back and understand that this wasn’t the end of my life as I knew it. I was climbing on the Weissmies on flat terrain when I missed a high step and landed shin-first on a knife-edge boulder, cutting my shin open to the bone. I continued guiding to the summit and down, and went to the doctor’s when I returned to the village below. While waiting to get stitched up, I was hit by a wave of heavy tears. I was like a two-year-old, inconsolable, weeping like I never had before. I took a few days off, rested and accepted the fact that I am pregnant and am lucky to be able to work while pregnant. Many other women have gone through this before and many will after me and it’s just a part of life, a part of making choices and working around them to make it work as best you can.
I think that you can make parenthood whatever you want it to be and still be a responsible parent. Having kids doesn’t necessarily mean settling down. Maybe it will bring more structure to my life, forcing me to be more focused to keep achieving my dreams, but I hope that I won’t use my kids as an excuse to no longer pursue my dreams.
That said, I know that my lifestyle is particular and fitting a kid in an already very busy schedule won’t be easy but I think my life will be all the more rich for it. After all, I picked guiding not just to share my passion with others, but also because I believe that it’s very compatible with parenthood. I get to exercise all day long and be available to my kid when I get home at night, not needing to go out and exercise some more. And during the off-season, I will possibly be more available than a 9-to-5 parent could be.
I am now 3.5-months pregnant and have been guiding through the summer and loving every moment of it, since my little accident. The season is coming to an end and I am looking forward to climbing for myself again and finding the space to do other things that are more suited to pregnancy. Pregnancy is a lot like doing a first ascent. Although many people have done first ascents and have been gone through motherhood before, your own seems like the first of the first; you can only hope that all of the skills you have accumulated in your life until now will enable you to overcome the challenges ahead and lead you to a successful summit, this one this time being motherhood.
Right now, I believe that I will be able to be guiding soon after giving birth, but since accepting seems like the key word here, I am ready to accept whatever comes my way and make it work. The mountains are not going anywhere.
Keep up with IFMGA/UIAGM Guide Caroline George’s alpine adventures on her website Into The Mountains and on the First Ascent blog. Into The Mountains is Caroline’s guiding site where she and her husband, Adam George, share their passion for climbing with others by offering guided trips and instruction on rock, ice, and alpine climbing in the European Alps and North America. Check it out!
Reality check: Caroline George reflects on the rapidly shrinking glaciers in the Alps
Monday, August 29th, 2011
Five years ago, this was a snow-covered glacier. Photo by Caroline George.
Summer in the Alps went from being inexistent to full blast. It’s the hottest month of August in years. I am grateful for this spell of beautiful weather myself, but after this past few days in the mountains, I realize that glaciers aren’t as happy as me. They are downright hurting.
I just had an amazing week with my client, Michele. Michele is a well-rounded climber who goes out climbing on her own (as in, without a guide), both on rock and ice and has climbed all over the world. She’s been to destinations I still dream about going to myself. After a week of hiking to acclimate around Chamonix, she was ready for our trip into the mountains. Since I hadn’t climbed with her before, we headed to the Albert 1er hut the first day to climb a moderate ridge to the summit of the Aiguille du Tour, a peak which sits on the border to France and Switzerland. Upon reaching the hut, though, I wondered where the glacier had gone. The last time I’d been there was in 2002, and the glacier was minutes from the hut. I blamed it on my bad recollection of the area but a fellow guide confirmed that the glacier had just shrunk drastically.
After a beautiful climb up the Arête de la Table (called as such because a flat rock somehow sits on the ridge and you have to climb around and then on top of it) to the summit of the Aiguille du Tour, we returned to Chamonix. We spent the following days climbing perfect granite on the Aiguille du Peigne’s Papillons Ridge and ice on the Goulotte Chéré followed by the classic Cosmiques Ridge. We then headed over to Switzerland to spend three days climbing around the Trient Hut, located on the Swiss side of the Mont Blanc Range. Although I had hiked up to that hut earlier this summer, it was still early and the snow hadn’t fully melted off so I wasn’t as shocked as now.
I first came to this area in 1996 with my parents to climb a route right above the glacier. We had stayed at the Orny Hut, just an hour down valley form the Trient Hut. From there, we hiked a few minutes to reach the nearby glacier and hiked on it to reach the climb. Nowadays, you couldn’t even imagine doing that. The glacier is 150m below the hut and nowhere on the way to that climb anymore. Five years ago, the glacier in that area was still fully an accumulation zone, but now, it’s turned to an ablation zone, leaving very little time for this glacier to survive.
After a nice night of sleep at the newly guarded Trient hut with Michele, and the most amazing vegetable curry cinnamon (yes, cinnamon) soup I have ever eaten, we headed out the door at 5 a.m. for our climb, the south ridge of the Aiguille Sans Nom (Nameless Tower), a beautiful line up perfect orange granite. This area is a little remote and both times I was back there this summer, I didn’t see anyone! A treat! We hiked up the Trient glacier to the Col des Plines and headed down into a wind scoop to come out at the pass. I expected the backside to be fully covered in snow, as it had been when I was there five years earlier. But instead we found scree and very loose terrain, leading to a totally dry glacier. I couldn’t believe it. Poor Michele, she had to listen to me repeat over and over how different it was this time around, just like an old woman saying: “Back in the day…”
It didn’t stop us from having an amazing climb up perfect granite to the summit of the Aiguille Sans Nom, followed by some ridge climbing down the easterly ridge of the Aiguilles Dorées (Golden Needles) and some rappels back to the Trient glacier. We had an amazing week with great weather and I was in great company with Michele. Yet, I can’t brush off the images of the once-huge glacier that I knew and wonder how much longer it will be around for us to see and marvel at. We used to look at pictures from the 1920s to see how much glaciers had shrunk. But now you just need five years time to no longer recognize a location you thought you knew. I don’t have a solution, of course, but this was a reality check I thought I should share.
Editor’s note: Check out more pictures from Caroline’s week with Michele at here at First Ascent.
Keep up with IFMGA/UIAGM Guide Caroline George’s alpine adventures on her website Into The Mountains and on the First Ascent blog. Into The Mountains is Caroline’s guiding site where she and her husband, Adam George, share their passion for climbing with others by offering guided trips and instruction on rock, ice, and alpine climbing in the European Alps and North America. Check it out!
Dealing with weather in the Alps
Wednesday, August 17th, 2011
Guest post by Caroline George
One thing I love about my job is this: it sure keeps you on your toes… both figuratively and literally, of course. But this year has been more on the figurative side of things.
Europe has been hit by a southwesterly flow of weather that even the best forecaster have had a hard time understanding and interpreting. Since guiding is very weather dependent, it has made my job quite difficult…but all the more interesting.
Clients e-mail me way ahead of time to book me for their dream climbs or their dream week in the Alps. And it really means the world to me to do my best at making them discover my backyard, in the hope that they will love it as much I do, that they will enjoy the climbing and get to reach their dream summit. For this to happen though, three factors must be met: the client must be in good enough shape to achieve their goal, the conditions on the route must be good and the weather must be decent. Last summer, this was hardly ever an issue. Sure, there were times when I had to wrack my brains a little in order to find a better destination than the one originally planned, but it was the exception to the rule and there was always a great alternative to be found. This year however, I can’t recall many days going according to plan.
Guiding can be intense in itself, because you have to plan for the climb, figure out what the itinerary is going to be, book huts and hotels and cable cars (a perk really!), make sure conditions are good on the route, brief clients on what to expect on the climb, what gear to take, make sure they have the gear they need and that they are using it right, make sure you have the right gear to guide a climb, pack your bag, manage clients on the climb, acknowledge hazards and manage them, come home at night and repeat for the following day. But this year’s unstable weather has added a whole new level of stress.
At the end of July, I had a great client to climb both the Mitteleggi ridge on the Eiger and the Hornli ridge on theMatterhorn. I met him the day before the trip started with the weather outlook in hand and had to break the news to him that none of these climbs would happen. That’s always really hard for me to do because people have travelled from far away for this, took time off work and away from their family, all that do “Plan B” climbs. But weather and conditions are something that I can’t manage and that’s a responsibility I always have a hard time not taking on as my own. So I try to find other satisfying options, but this summer, the weather forecast would drastically change from the one posted in the morning to the one posted in the evening, forcing me to constantly change plans and adapt. This was stressful but we almost always made it work.
This past week-end however, the forecast was for three days of beautiful weather initially, and ended up into the worst three days of the summer, throughout the Alps. Even further south, where the weather was nicer, the winds reached up to 50 mph at lower elevations. So, we resorted to going to the museum and eating ice cream. Sometimes, you just have to accept the reality and not try to force things. And I think clients are understanding of that, but I always wish I could have done more and found where the one patch of dry weather was hiding and made it work.
As I write this, the sun is blasting through my window and I am about to head on up to a hut for the first bluebird day of guiding in a long time! This spell of bad weather makes me appreciate the sun and beauty of the mountains all the more. It will be such a nice change to be able to focus on my job and and on the clients, and not worry about the weather.
Keep up with IFMGA/UIAGM Guide Caroline George’s alpine adventures on her website Into The Mountains. Into The Mountains is also her guiding site where she and her husband, Adam George, share their passion for climbing with others by offering guided trips and instruction on rock, ice, and alpine climbing in the European Alps and North America. Check it out!
Chicks sighting in Chamonix!
Tuesday, August 2nd, 2011We’ve got a Chicks sighting to report from Europe!
Girly Guide Caroline George sent in this picture of Chicks alumna Caroline Doucet on the midi plan traverse in Chamonix, proudly showing off her “Kiss My Axe” sticker:
Thank you Caroline for sending it in!
Now that we have a bunch of brand new Chicks alumnae after Devil’s Lake, we’ll be looking forward to seeing even more Chicks sightings
Update: Caroline has sent in more pics from her climbing with Caroline Doucet this week in Chamonix:
Cosmiques Ridge (and proudly sporting the Chicks with Picks sticker on her helmet!)
Cosmiques Ridge
Midi-Plan Traverse
Vallee Blanche Traverse
Vallee Blanche Traverse
Eiger: One Day Ascent
Wednesday, May 4th, 2011
I first climbed the north face in 2003 with friends from Chamonix. The idea had sprung when I crossed ice axes with a friend on a classic Chamonix ice gully and I mentioned that conditions on the Eiger must be stunning. We had just had a spell of 6 weeks of blue bird weather and I knew that the climb had seen lots of traffic. The next day, we were driving there to climb the mighty north face.
In my family, the north face of the Eiger could almost be condsidered an heirloom. My dad had always talked about it and wanted to climb it but deemed that having kids and climbing the Eiger weren’t compatible. I therefore felt that I should climb it before I had kids. I climb so much because I always have this perspective in sight. Although, realistically, I don’t think this would change much for me. But it’s a good excuse.
The whole drive there though, I thought that I would say that I was going to bail right once we got to the parking lot, then on the train, then at the hotel at the base of the Eiger (the Eigergletscher Hotel), then at the base of the climb… but suddenly, I have 400m up the face and there was no turning back. I was overwhelmed in some way and the whole climb felt unreal. But it was a landmark in my career as alpinist.
Last Fall, Adam was looking for a partner to climb the north face of the Eiger. I had already done it and had no desire to ever get back on the face. But he really couldn’t find anyone motivated, so I said I would go. At the last minute though, Tim Connelly motivated to go and I then realized that I had really wanted to get back on it, especially with my husband. The whole next day that Adam was on the route, I so regretted not sharing that experience with him. View his video here. So I went and climb the north face of the Drus instead, one of the most beautiful alpine route I have never done.
Yet, the Eiger loomed in the back my mind. I suddenly had the desire to climb it in a day. I figured I would train all winter for it, but training really isn’t something I ever do. I climb all the time, go ski touring a lot, but I never had the perspective of training for an objective. I don’t really know how to I guess. Plus, I traveled so much this winter that there was never any time for specific training. I thought about the Eiger on and off but it was no longer a big goal of mine. I climbed routes like the Supercouloir, Pinocchio on the Tacul, etc. Yet, a week before going on the climb, I tried to do a route on the north face of the Droites with my friend Tania. It had just snowed and the accumulation at the base worried me. We were sinking in to our waists and making slow progess so we pulled the plug and decided to go ski touring instead. In a day, we toured to the base of the Droites from the Argentiere glacier, skied to the Col d’Argentiere and then to the Col du Tour Noir, making for around 2,500m elevation gain. It isn’t that much, but I thought that if I could do that easily, then I was fit enough to climb 1,800m on the Eiger. I felt good. With a window of great weather ahead and Adam and I looking for an objective for the week, we decided to give the “Eiger in a day” a go. Upon arriving there, we heard the record had been broken down to 2 hours 30 minutes! So there was no longer any excuse for us not to be able to do it in a day. With that in mind, we headed for the north face, with no bivy gear or stoves, committing to being back down by dusk.
The climb went really smoothly, with a perfect track the whole way. The climbing felt a lot easier than the first time I did. I never felt tired or wishing the climb would be over already!!, a feeling I often get on long routes. We both knew the routes and I felt that knowing what was ahead was made it less stressful. What was stressful however was having the helicopter about 100m away from us for most of the day, dropping off the new record holder, Dani Arnold, on sections of the face, just to take footage of him. Definitely ruined the wilderness experience for us.
We topped on on the Mitteleggi in the afternoon. And then came the crux: the knife-edge ridge that leads to the top. Quite unnerving. We hung out on the summit for a quite a while, enjoying the fact that we had just shared one of the best climbs of our lives together. Eventually, we descended the west face back to the Eigergletscher, where comfortable Swiss beds awaited us.
View the gallery on my facebook page by clicking here.
Keep up with IFMGA/UIAGM Guide Caroline George’s alpine adventures on her website Into The Mountains. Into The Mountains is also her guiding site where she and her husband, Adam George, share their passion for climbing with others by offering guided trips and instruction on rock, ice, and alpine climbing in the European Alps and North America. Check it out!
Caroline George climbing in Thailand (video)
Friday, March 25th, 2011Video of Girly Guide Caroline George climbing in Thailand. Thanks to our sponsor (and hers), First Ascent for sharing!
Caroline George talks about new route, “Uprising” in Jordan
Tuesday, March 1st, 2011
Photo by Jim Surette/GraniteFilms.com
Last week we reported the news that Girly Guide andFirst Ascent athlete Caroline George had just put up a new route in Jordan. Now we have her full recap of the new line, “Uprising” rated 5.11b. Thanks to our sponsors First Ascent for the share!
We achieved our goal here in Jordan, putting up a new route in a really remote area on more precarious rock. The route is 700 feet long, hardest pitch is 5.11b, and we named the route “Uprising”, in view of the events in the Middle East. We had a few other names in mind, since the base of the route is littered with full metal jacket bullets and the wall scared with getting hit by them. We topped out as the sun was setting down and rappelled by headlamps in the dark.
It was a full team effort: Sarah and I led all the pitches. The leader would lead with two ropes, fix one rope for Jim to jug up and film the second person following the pitch. The person would climb dragging yet another rope for Adam, who would stay at the belay and hand drill bolts for anchors, thus being respectful of the ethic here, which is of drilling without drill machines.
Uprising
Uprising: 5.11b (one section), 700-feet, 5 pitches. Named after the recent events in the Middle East.
The sun was already low on the horizon when we topped out on our new route. We looked around at the vastness of the desert below and beyond to the Saudi border. The smiles one our faces spoke for themselves: We had come to Jordan with the hope of doing a first ascent, and we were bursting with excitement for having done just that. But our elation was short lived as we still had to rappel down to the bottom of the route, 700 feet below, and darkness was setting in.
Sarah and I had scoped out the route a few days earlier. The rock looked mainly dark above – a good sign – but there were a few areas of lighter rock, which would remain an unknown until we would climb to it. We decided to come back and give the whole route a go. We left Wadi Rum around 9 a.m. and headed south, back through the desert. We planned on being there for two days, not knowing how long it would take us to do the route. We hiked through mushroom-like formations to the base of our climb and geared up for the climb.
Our highpoint was 60 meters off the ground. We – Adam, Jim, Sarah and I – all climbed to that point. While I led the next pitch, Adam started hand-drilling bolts for our anchors. The pitch followed a featured crack system, from wide to a thin-tips layback crack. I thought I would build an anchor in a sheltered alcove, but the rock was breaking instantly as I touched it, so I kept climbing into a deep cave, which offered good protection for an anchor. Jim jugged up one of the lines while Sarah climbed to me. Adam followed on the rope Sarah was dragging behind her. Sarah led the next pitch – a beautiful traverse on dark rock, which proved to be way more fragile than we had thought. The route continued up an obvious notch/chimney to a big ledge. As the sun was setting, I led up the chimney/wide crack system to the top of the climb, which topped out on the tower we could see from below.
We rappelled in the full darkness. As I sat on anchors, waiting for the rest of the team to rap to me, I reminisced about our climb. Although the climbing wasn’t always hard, you would often have to think very light thoughts while pulling on some of the loose and hollow sounding rock. You never knew if your foot hold or hand hold would bear your weight. What was even more scary was to think that the rest of the team was right below you and that they could get hit by rock if you misread the quality of the hold you were pulling on. Sarah and I had the fun part of the job, climbing the route, while Jim filmed and Adam drilled anchor. The behind-the-scenes work is often not as fun. At first, I thought we could deal with building anchors later, but while rapping in full darkness, tired from a long day on the climb, I was extremely grateful that these anchors were in place.
We reached the bottom of the route by 8:30 p.m. Getting off the climb was almost as exciting as climbing the route: We got a rope way stuck on the first rappel, rappelled in full-on darkness down a line we could barely see, and each time we kept our fingers crossed that the ropes wouldn’t get stuck. The climb is only really done when you are back down at your packs. We pitched our tents, had a quick bite of pita, babganoush and hummus and soundly fell asleep, reliving our adventure in our dreams. It feels so good to have done what you had set out to do.
Doing a first ascent in Jordan felt like coming full circle. I had returned to the roots of my passion, exploring what my parents loved to do best: adventure climbing and searching for new lines. Although this was my own experience, every step of the way was tinted with the bright and loving memories of my first trip here, without which, maybe I wouldn’t have become who I am now.
Caroline is now en route to Chamonix to strap on some crampons and skis – we will keep you updated with her latest adventures here!
Caroline George finds adventure on La Guerre Sainte in Wadi Rum
Tuesday, February 22nd, 2011
Photo by Jim Surette/GraniteFilms.com
Girly Guide and First Ascent athlete Caroline George continues to find adventure – the latest in Wadi Rum, Jordan! Read all about her latest climb from the place she credits for starting her passion for climbing. Thanks to our sponsors, First Ascent, for the share!
La Guerre Sainte (“The Holy War”) is much to Jordan what Lord of the Thai’s is to Thailand. It’s the local, 400-meter long, 5.12b multipitch (12 pitches) test piece. But unlike Lord of the Thai’s, which climbs up perfect overhanging limestone, la Guerre Sainte – also known to local Bedouins as “Jihad” - climbs up a perfectly vertical wall that offers less than perfect sandstone and really sporty – ready sparse – protection. La Guerre Sainte proved to be both physically and mentally challenging. Quite the adventure. This route is also the first of its kind in Wadi Rum.
Route setters always look for weakness in the rock to climb up a face, which often materializes in cracks. Cracks take traditional gear – friends, camalots, nuts, etc. – enabling the climber to progress safely up a line. Once the potential for such obvious features have been exhausted, people look at climbing straight up walls. With no cracks at hand, bolting becomes the only way to protect a climb. Although Wadi Rum has a pretty strict no-bolting ethic, an exception was made for La Guerre Sainte in 2000, when prolific route setters Arnaud Petit, Benoit Robert, Guy Abert, Philippe Batoux, Herve Bouvard and Alon Hod decided to tackle one of the biggest faces in Jordan: the east face of Nassrani. They bolted the route ground up in five days, which is an amazing feat.
Our ride dropped us off at the base of a massive, red sand dune, which encircles the bottom of the face. A quick scramble got us to the base of this massive sunbathed wall. I zipped up my Sirocco jacket to shelter me from the wind, which blasted the face throughout the duration of our climb. The first pitch climbs a right-facing layback finger corner to a huge ledge system. The climb continues up wild Hueco-like formations. The rock is red and sounds really hollow for the most part, and it feels like both foot and hand holds could break at any time – Not a great feeling when the protection is so sparse. I don’t like that much on sound rock, but it took that feeling to a whole new level. A fall here, in remote Wadi Rum, would have pretty dramatic consequences. With that in mind, the mental aspect of this climb felt overwhelming. Pitch 7 offers a 40ft runout on a sustained 5.11c pitch, so you’re looking at an 80ft fall, a couple hundred feet above the ground, with no means of communication in case of an emergency.
The crux pitches are concentrated on the headwall, where the rock turns to a whitish orange color. During the first ascent, the route setters had many doubts: “There were many light rock areas on this wall, which triggered a lot of doubts regarding the success of this undertaking, mainly in regards to the headwall which was almost fully white… It was an immense relief and one of my greatest joys as a climber when, after a few meters of the headwall, I yelled out to my partner: ’The rock isn’t good… it’s excellent!’” wrote Arnaud Petit.
Indeed, the headwall proved to offer the best rock on the wall. With three pitches of 5.12b, back-to-back, it was also the most committing and most difficult section of the route. Adam did an amazing job leading those pitches, which although didn’t go free, felt like some spicy French freeing (read pulling on quick draws to get through). Still, the obligatory rating felt like a solid 5.12a.
We topped out as the wall went into the shade and immediately starting rapping down. When faces are this steep, it’s a full core work out to abseil with a pack on. A local Bedouin and his family awaited us at the base. He said: “Not many climbers do this route. You must be good!” That was a very nice compliment, although I didn’t feel as such on the route. He drove us back to Wadi Rum, a 20-minute ride away, with his son steering the wheel and his 12-year-old driving his other car!
We are now moving on to another adventure: Finding a possible new line to climb. Stay tuned!
Keep up with all of Caroline’s latest adventures here on the First Ascent blog. Also check out her website Into The Mountains, where she and her husband Adam George share their passion for climbing with others by offering guided trips and instruction on rock, ice, and alpine climbing in the European Alps and North America.
Caroline George reports in from ThaiTanium Wall
Wednesday, February 16th, 2011
Girly Guide and First Ascent athlete Caroline George has already had a busy 2011, and we’re only halfway through February! Just days after returning from Antarctica where she logged five FAs, she got on a plane to go climb in Thailand. Here’s her latest report from the far East, thanks to our sponsors First Ascent for the share!
Climbing out of a boat is the ultimate Thai climbing experience in my book. It had to be done and we did it.
We wanted to climb a multipitch route above the water that was far enough away that we would be the only ones there. ThaiTanium Wall on Ko Yawabun offered all of the above and more. A 30-minute boat ride from Tonsai took us to the island of Ki Yawabun in the middle of the Andaman Sea where the four-pitch route “For the Members” (11b, 11b, 11c, 11a) is located. It’s in the shade all day and was bolted in 2006 with titanium bolts – the new hope for lasting bolts on ocean side cliffs, hence the name of the wall.
Our boatman pulled in close to the wall at the base of the fixed ropes, which you climb up to the first belay stance to avoid the huge overhang at the start of the route. Adam – my husband and super hero rigger! - jumared up the really beaten up fixed lines. As it says in the guidebook, “I think we can dub this fixed pitch “Squeal Like a Pig.” The ropes are so old that it seems a given that they will snap once loaded. At least the landing in the water wouldn’t hurt too much. Deep water jumaring?
Adam fixed another rope and we all jumared up, trying to stay out of the water as we swung out of the boat. The route is overhanging the whole way, and all you can see beneath you is the boat and beautiful dark green water. It climbs up tuffas and pockets that seem so big that you could almost sit in them. Sarah and I swung leads up this impressive line. Since it doesn’t see much traffic, the rock is really sharp. Unlike other climbs, the higher we got the warmer it felt.
After toping out, we still had to rappel down the overhanging face. We had to back clip some of the bolts to make it to the anchor below without being lost in space. The rappel was the coolest though as we rappelled straight into the boat! We finished the day with a welcome dive off the boat before heading back to Tonsai, driving by some of the most beautiful white sand beaches I have ever seen.
Caroline is now in Jordan, and will be reporting on her climbing adventures there as well for First Ascent, which we will make sure to post for you here on Chicks!
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