A few years back I got an itch to try climbing. I spent MONTHS searching for a climbing partner at Rocks and Ropes (climbing gym in Tucson). I was shot down at every attempt. The gym was trying to find people of color and or homosexuals to further diversity in climbing. I’m neither a person of color nor a homosexual so I made no progress there…
Flashback several months earlier I had posted on Mountain Project to find a partner willing to show me the ropes. A guy replied finally replied. His plan was to take me on a “simple” route on Elephant Head.
Elephant head is a peak in the Santa Rita Mountains. It’s a massive granite monolith so large I can see it towering over the landscape from my backyard 10+ miles away. It’s 1500ft of exposed rock. Heck of a place to learn the ropes.
Despite my apprehension and better advice of friends I went out and thank God I did. I couldn’t have had a better time. We did four pitches with a twin setup (system you can ascend 200ft and rappel 200ft with). The rest was scrabbling up steep a gully on the peak. We gained over 1000ft on the exposed rock! The summit felt within grasp, but I was completely exhausted after the last pitch and daylight was fading so we didn’t push for the summit that day.
There is a hiking trail up Elephant Head Peak. A few friends want to hike but I cannot bring myself to hike it. This epic climbing experience planted an itch to gain that summit via a climbing route. I’ve spoke with my friend numerous times since then about doing just that. Unfortunately, he moved away before we could do that.
The opportunity came for the two of us to summit the peak again when he was on a business trip to Tucson. This would be in the peak of summer in the Sonoran Desert. We made a plan to beat the heat by climbing at night. Sounded like a good idea. I also wanted to spend multiple days on the peak so we could explore this expansive high alpine gully only accessible via climbing.
I thought we’d use a haul system to raise the gear but he reminded me most of the climb to the gully is low angle. We couldn’t pull the gear up on a rope because it would get caught up on the slop. We had to wear backpacks with the gear while climbing. This is something I didn’t even know people do because if you fall you risk flipping upside down with a heavy backpack on. We loaded the bags up as if for a multiday backpacking trip and put 2.5 gallons of water into each bag. Thank God I was not leading the climb as I didn’t have to carry the rack!
The ascent into the gully took about 650ft or rope, with one pitch of simul climbing. Despite the climbing was mostly trivial there was little protection to be had. My climbing partner put a handful of pieces for each 200ft section. Additionally, my backpack was too small so I had to attach things like shoes, hammock, etc. to the outside of the bag. This stuff kept getting caught up on the rock or stuck in front of me pushing me out from the rock as I tried to climb.
I’m not for sure if getting caught up in gear is a common issue. I have a modest amount of experience following on trad routes (40 routes?). I pick the lead climber’s gear out of the rock as I ascend to the belay station anchor where the lead climber belays me from above. This gear gets clipped to a sling slung over my shoulder and around my torso. Often the gear swings in front of me while I’m trying to make a move up the rock. Sometimes at the least opportune time I have to shuffle the gear so I can continue up while barely being able to hang on. As I gain experience I try to organize the gear prior to ascending into tricky sections. However, it seems despite my best efforts the gear still has a tendency to get in the way.
After six hours muscling our way up and wresting with gear we made it into the gully. I promptly collapsed on the rock before we could find a place to setup the hammocks. A few minutes later, I awoke to beetles biting me all over the place. The peak was covered in them. Shortly there after the sun started to come up. I spotted a beautiful grove of trees to put the hammocks in. We setup camp and I went to bed or at least tried too.
There’s a secret to living in the out doors that we tend to keep in confidence. That is, “the sleeping pill” trick, most keep this trick in confidence but my buddy handed me the pills! Great minds must think alike. The first night can be difficult to sleep through (or day in our instance). Popping a sleeping pill can ensure you get fully rested for the next day of hard effort. Our plan was to sleep out the heat of the day and start climbing at sunset. I popped a sleeping pill as the summer sun rose over our camp. The pill did absolutely nothing. We laid in the hammocks profusely sweating in the 110+F heat. During this time we also drank water and swallowed electrolyte pills.
I should mention, most of this gear is extremely comfortable. My tent has a better bed than most people in their homes. Even a cheap hammock as I had is very comfortable. However, after exerting yourself like this, you can be sore and find it hard to sleep. That pill often works miracles. A night or two in an adventure and you can sleep like a rock anywhere. The air is fresh, it’s quiet and really how we were meant to sleep.
As the sun started to fall below the horizon we geared up. Farther up the gully was a low angle rock that looked to lead into the steep ramp below the peak. The two of us decided, partly on my suggestion, to climb that rock. It looked trivial. However, after setting up I realized there was no crack! It was a smooth ramp with great hand and foot holds to go up on ascending around 50ft.
I need to mention at this point I have nearly a year of experience climbing in the backcountry (20+ first ascents with my other friend). This really is not much, however, it’s enough to realize, “Where’s the crack!?!?!”. Climbers typically look for cracks so they can place their protection in them (cams, nuts, etc. that arrests a fall). There was NO crack so if he fell it would be a ground strike! My friend was searching where to put the gear, I had every confidence he didn’t need it. After all would you throw yourself off a ladder? Possibly I wouldn’t either. It was a fairly simple slope but my mind always goes back to messed up monkey’s falling out of trees.
My mind also flashed back to the night prior ascending into the gully. He’d been able to build a anchor that was probably one chance in five it would hold. I got a radio call from the anchor on the second pitch, “Belay on, no falls”. A lot flashed through my mind stepping onto the exposed face for that pitch.
On nearly every one of my 20 or so climbs up till then I’d fallen! If I fell, and the anchor came out, my climbing partner would bear the weight of the fall on his legs at the belay ledge ~180ft up the slope. I saw he was holding the rope and me tight. If he somehow was pulled off the belay ledge we’d consume rope in a fall till his last piece on the route. It would be an unpleasant experience to say the least. It was pointless to meditate on because the only way out of the situation was up. I pushed it out of my mind and completed the climb, although there were a couple friction moves with no holds while transitioning out of a chimney.
There are situations in backcountry climbing that require improvisation. You do the best you can with what you have. That includes making calculated risks. On rare occasion, you get into a situation where the systems that protect you aren’t perfectly suited for the job. The climbing was trivial so there was little risk other than in the mind.
Would you throw yourself off a ladder? Just because it’s rock doesn’t mean it’s any different. My other climbing friend would refer to this route as a “hike” it was so easy. I never fell the first time on it and this wasn’t going to be any different. That said climbing that pitch after I got the message felt extremely vulnerable as I ascended the rock hanging above the dark void to the valley floor hundreds of feet below me.
The “no falls” experience was looming in my mind as well as nausea from a whole day of extreme heat. Life on the 110+F slope was more so a slow death than life at all. I was fighting back vomit and we had 900ft vertical feat to consume in climbing. I looked at my climbing partner and he looked at me at this point we decided to call the climb off. He downclimbed from about 20 foot up on the rock and we went back to our camp.
This had to be one of the most fun nights of my life and best sleeps I’ve EVER had. We filled up on water ate a little and went to bed. There we were in an isolated high alpine gully few people have ever had the privilege of visiting. We had ascended not on an established route like most climbers do. Instead we had just took off on the rock. It was a real adventure.
That morning I woke up well rested to a beautiful sunrise and walked around a bit. My climbing partner stayed in bed so I didn’t stray far and I carried a radio. A fall up there and they’d not find you for a long time. Honestly, the fire department likely doesn’t have the resources to get in there and I am not confident search and rescue has this level of experience. I know this much after interviewing for S&R. They are out of Tucson and seldom if ever venture south of town where we are. Often rescues are completed by border patrol through inter agency cooperation. They have experienced teams some specializing in technical mountain and even swift water rescues. I digress, this all adds to the excitement as most people cannot make it into these areas. You’re really out there on your own.
After a short walk I discovered the gully system splits and there’s a second low angle gully ascending toing towards the north east. There’s also a potential cracks on the ramp in-between the two gullies. One appears to have a ramp getting around the buttress and onto the slope we were shooting for the night before.
I had a great breakfast, it was a MRE purchased at the military surplus in Tucson. Neither of us wanted to spend another day in 110+F heat. The sun was starting to get higher in the sky and I knew our shade was going to be short lived. We had to rappel down three pitches so we both decided it was time to get off the rock.
The walk down to the first rap station is an easily managed scramble. That said my friend took a fall with all his gear on his back! He really messed up his foot. I went over picked up his gear and took it to the rap station. I didn’t say much so as not to add stress to an already stressful situation.
I started stacking the rope and getting prepared for the first rap. He made his way over and setup the anchor. We didn’t really say much about the fall as he finished getting on the rope. I knew I’d just inherited all the gear. I’d never rappelled with haul bags before but it was fairly obvious they needed attached to my belay loop. He made it down to the second rap station and I started getting on the rope. I had secured both bags, tested my rap device, and took off my PAS (Personal Anchor System). After a quick radio call “ON RAPELL!” I slid down the rope.
Dang were those bags HEAVY and difficult on the low angle rock. They kept hanging me up as I tried to descend. Part of the second rap was overhanging so the bags could dangle below me in free space, thank God. After the 3rd rap I was down. It took me two hours to get down route with all that gear! Little did we know a heat advisory was in effect. Local authorities were saying to stay inside. There had been NO shelter from the blazing sun on that rap and I felt completely demoralized and run down.
We had a choice at this point, we could descend over a 1.5 mile route back to the vehicle. Or we could climb over a ridge and drop in right at the truck. I was barely able to stand, completely exhausted and overheating. I had plenty of water which I was drinking but it wasn’t cooling me off.
My climbing partner had to build back up my moral, I was not in a good state. He suggested we take a different route back to the truck. This would cut a great distance off our trip back. I was skeptical but I knew he was right after ascending the ridge to confirm the truck was on the other side. I returned to him and we consolidated the heaviest gear into the larger and I took it. He had a little water and the light items in the smaller bag. He also found a stick to support his bum foot while walking.
The ridge was brutally hard to get up with that heavy bag but thank God it wasn’t too long. We got over it and came out right at the truck. The good news was I never stopped sweating so my body was still able to somewhat regulate temperature. However, it was as though I’d jumped in a lake. Sweat was literally pouring off me. We loaded all the gear back in the truck and headed into the hospital.
I really wasn’t sure if his foot was broken broken as it looked bad. I eagerly waited in the lobby to hear the news. Turns out it was twisted his ankle, thank God. Both of us were so hungry we could eat the seats in my truck. This is actually quite common after a climbing adventure. We went over to a pizzeria where we devoured breadsticks and a massive pizza.
The two of us had big plans for the next day but neither of us was in any shape to do anything. Upon returning home my friend had conditions conducive of severe dehydration. The two of us rested and our adventure came to a close.
Looking back I thank God the gym turned me away. It’s hard to believe that a year prior to all this I could scarlessly get myself to climb a ladder without being gripped by fear. Now my friends are taking me on multi-pitch first ascents into the unknown.
I sometimes share climbing stories. They seem far removed from everyday life. The more I partake in climbing the more I learn few people can relate. Perhaps for the better. I often find myself on some exposed cliff far from the ground struggling to hold on weighted down with gear thinking of my sofa back home. Then I rush out to go climbing a week later. Why? I guess that’s one of life’s biggest mysteries…
