A DATE WITH DEIDRE

Quite a few years ago, when I was first started getting into multi-pitch lead climbing, my climber partner and I decided we were ready to try climbing Deidre. For us, at that point in our lives, climbing Deidre was our attempt to push ourselves to the limits of what we were physically and mentally prepared for. Deidre is a classic climb located on beautiful Cathedral Ledge in Conway, New Hampshire. My partner, Steve, and I had studied the route description in the Ed Webster guide, Rock Climbs in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Ed rated the climb a 5.9+ (***) which for us was going to be a serious undertaking. Steve and I always took turns leading different routes and it just so happened that today was my day. Being a solid 5.9 climber I knew it would take all my focus and energy in order to reach the top. Webster's comment of "good protection" was truly what gave me the courage to go for it.

The first pitch followed a series of ledges up a chimney to a large spacious ledge from which to belay. I felt slightly awkward moving up through the chimney but overall, the first pitch went smoothly. I set up a solid anchor and belayed Steve up to the ledge. Once at the anchor Steve and I both stared intently at the second pitch which is considered the crux of the climb. Gazing at the relatively short corner which leads to the infamous roof my hands began to sweat. I could see a fixed pin under the roof, but it looked as though it was going to be hell to clip. After taking back the gear from the first pitch I started up the corner. To my surprise the corner proved to be much harder than it looked which only made me feel less confident that I'd be able to traverse this frightening roof. Thankfully, Ed Webster was right and I was able to find excellent protection in the case of a fall. However, now even with the roof I felt absolutely clueless about how to traverse underneath it. Feeling more uneasy, I placed a great piece of pro and added a long runner to it. This would protect me making my attempt to traverse. As well protected as I was it seemed to be little consolation. I was deeply involved in a twisted internal struggle with my own fears. Even though I would be OK if I took a fall I couldn't convince myself that this was sane. Finally with some comforting and encouraging words from Steve I finally made my moves. Getting into position under the roof seemed so improbable that I went back and forth several times always falling prey to my fears. I must have looked like a frightened school boy pacing back and forth before having to fight the class bully. Somehow, somewhere I was finally able to muster my courage and gain control of my emotions and commit to the moves. Once underneath the roof I grabbed a quick draw from my harness and tried to reach over and clip the fixed pin. Unfortunately,like some evil twist of fate my reach was short by inches. Now, desperately needing to maintain my calm and keep my composer, I quickly placed the quick draw in my mouth and inched my self over until I knew I could reach the pin. Quickly grabbing the quick draw from my mouth I made my clip. The relief I felt watching my quick draw hanging from the pin was rapidly replaced with the awakening realization that I still needed to get my rope into the other end of the quick draw. Like a faucet directly connected to my fear impulse, my sweaty hands began to loose their grip so I swiftly retreated to the relative comfort of larger holds to the left of me. Trying to relax, breath and shake the pump out of my forearms, I couldn't believe how close I just was to making it through the problem. Once calm and almost rested I headed back underneath the roof, trying to remember what I had just done to get to where I was a moment ago. It is amazing how quickly you can forget when you are ready to soil yourself. Fortunately, I was able to get back into position and after several faltered attempts I was successful in clipping my rope. Of course, instead of feeling elated I felt completely determined to traverse this roof without taking a fall. However, there is this funny thing about climbing; if you do not commit to making moves at the start, you waste so much of your energy hanging out, worrying about everything, you never have the juice necessary once you finally do commit. So sure enough I took a very, uneventful fall trying to get my right foot to bridge the gap to the other side. Of course now that I was safely, dangling on the pin, I realized how foolish I was thinking the worst. This post awareness always causes a resurgence of energy pulses through me making it much easier to do what I previously thought was impossible.

Needless to say it took an awful long time to get through, what amounts to about 50 feet, this pitch. Yet, standing on that cozy belay ledge I started to feel like I could do almost anything. Feeling supercharged I setup my belay and eagerly watched Steve as he cleaned the route and worked through the roof problem. I always find it amazing to watch someone work out the problems that I was just struggling with. I certainly was impressed as I watch Steve fighting with the same sections of the climb that I did. Once Steve was anchored into the belay station, we looked up at the beautiful crack system. We followed it up to a fairly large birch tree growing out of the widening crack near the top of the next pitch. I felt extremely confident as I started to climb, only to realize, as Steve and I often joke, that a great deal of 5.8 climbs are weird. There is just something about them that makes you scratch your head and wonder what the hell is going on here. Well to my dismay this section of rock was no exception. My only solace came from just how well it protected, which helped me immensely work through the moves. When I got to the birch tree I girth hitched it with a long runner, clipped in my rope and grabbed a hold. We usually make a point to avoid using vegetation holds, but for anyone who has done this climb I am sure most of you will agree, the tree is right in the way and it's just to good to pass up.

Once on top of the third pitch I set up another belay, which in retrospect was pretty stupid considering the next pitch is short and easy. Since we were climbing so slowly, I could have saved some time by tieing the two pitches together. As they say hind sight is 20/20. Anyways, once Steve grunted his way up to the belay and got anchored in we prepared for the next easy pitch.

Finishing the fourth pitch I was blown away by the shear beauty of the area I had just climbed to. This ledge is perhaps one of the most scenic places I have ever been. It was so large, I would have felt comfortable un-roped and it looked up into a spectacular corner of pink granite, like I had never seen before. Feeling fatigued and somewhat intimidated by the next pitch I seriously contemplated staying the night. Steve and I decided to fuel up and enjoy the peaceful quiet and tranquility of this amazing ledge. Unfortunately, we were climbing so slowly that night would soon be upon us. We referenced the guide book one more time, even though the line appeared obvious. I would have to climb a chimney up to a bulging jam crack, which honestly looked like more than I was ready to handle. Ed Webster wrote about this pitch, "There are two enjoyable sections of 5.9 jamming, including the last few moves - which may be avoided on the right at 5.8." Staring at what we could see of this last pitch, I could feel the fear inside me wishing there was some wonderful and easy alternative. I even tried to pass the lead off to Steve, who quickly rejected my offer assuring me that it was my climb. Realizing we shouldn't waste any more time I somewhat reluctantly started up the prominent chimney. I found myself slowly, relaxing as I continued to move upwards. I felt more and more confident as I carefully placed some rather large pieces of protection into the features of the rock as I climbed. Just below the bulging jam crack I found my sights fixed on what I was sure would be some of the hardest climbing I had ever done. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by Steve's voice from below me, "Hey Mike make sure you save some of your big pieces of pro for the top. I read in the Climbing Accidents of North America that a guy used up all his big gear down low and took a fall near the top. He ended up breaking both his legs." Suddenly like a tidal wave crashing against me I became a quivering bowl of jello. I just placed quite a few of my large pieces below me and I was sure that the piece I would need to insure my safety had already been used. Now irrational thoughts flooded my mind and I frantically looked around for the what Webster described as the 5.8 to my right. I noticed a bulging section of rock that slanted up and right of me. I spied a fixed Hex in a crack and quickly decided that this was my best alternative to going straight up the bulging crack. Unfortunately, by committing to this right variation I found myself in a terribly awkward position on a tiny ledge as the darkness covered us. I switched on my head lamp and placed some pro into a crack to my left, effectively setting myself up for horrendous rope drag that would ensue. Feeling more frightened than I probably ever have, I realized I needed to pee. Squatting, in a crunched up position with the slightly overhanging wall pushing me out, I faced the dark abyss below and relieved myself. As I watched the stream of urine plummeting out of my sight I could only imagine this would be me in a short while. I felt almost numb as I stared at the improbable looking traverse that would reconnect me to the crack to my left. Placing another piece of pro, I set out to hand traverse this ledge. It had a fairly deep crack behind it that slowly petered out before the end. My feet were decent to start, but slowly as the hand crack worsened so did my foot holds. In committing to the traverse I ended up having to swing my body onto this ledge just wide enough for me. Now, face down on my belly I was completely frozen with fear. Until this fated climb I always racked my gear onto a sling that I wore around my shoulder. This was the moment when I realized that my racking system sucked and needed to be re-evaluated. Since I was lying on top of my sling I couldn't grab any gear and as my body quivered with fear I felt myself slowly slipping off the ledge. Suddenly, I was brought back to my senses by the concerned shouts of Steve who was pleading with me to get some gear in and get onto my feet. Steve was starting to get cold and our situation seemed to be worsening. Somehow, someway, perhaps it was divine intervention, I was able to fumble and find a small Alien and plug it into a crack just up and to the left of where I was laying down. Then I slowly got on to my feet and clipped the rope into my pro. Once on my feet and clipped in I felt a world better. I then moved over with confidence to the crack I had avoided earlier. I placed another piece and made my moves toward the top. I was quite surprised to find the top of the climb was still a considerable distance away, which definitely deflated my spirit. However, I continued moving steadily forward and just below the top I came upon one more short, bulging crack. I knew this was going to be difficult, but when I reached down grab the rope, I couldn't lift it to clip it into my last piece of pro. Feeling slightly panicked, I shouted down to Steve that I needed slack. To my chagrin Steve replied that I had tons of it. Realizing I had rope drag from hell to deal with, I did everything in my power to haul up the rope in order to clip in. When I finally did, I rested on the rope hoping to muster enough energy to finish this climb . I continued to tug at the rope trying to create enough slack so I could attempt climbing out. Only to take two short leader falls. Steve, realizing that I wasn't able to climb out free, shouted up to me to aid out the crack. Using a tri cam as aid I was finally able to get over the top and set up a belay.

This is truly one of the biggest climbing epics I've ever had rock climbing. In retrospect, I feel as though I was biting off more than I could chew by leading Deidre. If I had more crack climbing experience things would have been different. In fact, I climbed Deidre for the second time almost three years ago. I was both mentally and physically more prepared. What took me almost 11 hours to lead, in relatively poor fashion, I was able to do in roughly 3 hours. Climbing Deidre has been a serious learning experience for me. I would highly suggest, to anyone relatively new to multi-pitch climbing, that if you're planning to attempt a new route, that's truly at the top of your grade, climb it with a partner that can who can come to your rescue, if you find that it's too much for you. Guide books are extremely useful tools to climbers but we must not forget that they can sometimes be slightly misleading and there is no substitute for experience.