Woken by the alarm I showered, breakfasted and assumed a low-level of consciousness by about 7am. The previous evening Leila and I had wined and dined with the Kamsteegs ... always very nice, but also very dangerous. However, although I was tired I wasn't, for a change, terribly hungover.

David Ross showed up at my door, which was a bit of a surprise given the difficulty we had with recent communications, and very soon after Luciana arrived too. John rolled up in his subaru at precisely 7.30am. Vroom, we were off to New York and the Shawangunks.

The morning was overcast and a little cool, but it was not at all cold. Yesterday had been very warm for this time of year (New Haven was up to 23 °C), alas such unseasonable temperatures wouldn’t quite reach those record-breakers today. However, for early December in New England, it was still great weather for climbing.

The long drive was accompanied by John’s constant and insufferable whining about not being able to climb the day before (when the world was perfect) because some whimpo aussie wanted to spend time with his girl-friend instead. I bore this with my usual patience (about three seconds) before returning fire of a like calibre. Lu and David sat hunched together in the back seat, forced to listen in silence to our non-stop bickering. It was a very long drive. For Lu it would be her second time at the Gunks, she had climbed Red Pillar with me on a single (very slow) ascent back in September. For David, poor David, it would be his very first honest-to-God outdoor rock-climbing occasion. He was going to have an uncommon experience, total newbie meets total madman. Remarkably, David didn’t die.

John and I were unable to resolve our differences so the party had split into two factions even before we reached at the Mohonk Preserve carpark. Lu was given her choice of who she would have to belay, me or John. Ha! Having taken less than a nanosecond to decide that she would prefer trying to catch a slimly designed icon of australian manhood rather than el-blimpo the burger king she chose me. Natch. David hadn’t even top-roped outdoors yet, we are talking Newbie here with a capital “N”, so he almost certainly had no idea that – having been summarily handed the short straw - there was now the potential that at some point he may be called upon to arrest the sudden and downward progress of about three thousand pounds of highly abusive climber (I’ve been told that in the climbing world John carries a lot of weight). So, at the time, David was able to meet this arrangement with some poise.

After a bathroom break at the Preserve Headquarters we moved on to the Trapps, the most popular cliffs of the Shawangunks. There were some people around, but there weren’t crowds of them, so it looked like we would have our pick of the climbs. John has been climbing regularly at the Gunks for the better part of a decade, so his knowledge of its routes is encyclopedic. He is, despite being a posterboy for insane asylums nationwide, the perfect guide. We wandered along while John pointed to and named classic after classic, finally stopping at one called Sixish which he said I should do. Unfortunately there was another party already on it. John was unperturbed and led us on to another called …

Baby 5.6 PG **
A great first pitch, it's hard to imagine doing this back in 1941 with only a few small pitons and a hemp rope.
     Start: Down and around the corner, 30 feet right of Matinee, below a pretty crack that widens to an offwidth.
     Pitch 1: Climb to the offwidth (a blue Camalot is helpful here) and up the crack and face to the big, loose, rock-filled ledge (80 ft. 5.6 PG).
     Pitch 2: Follow the prominent left-facing corner directly above passing an overhang on the right and up to the top (60 ft. 5.6 PG). This pitch is usually dirty from rainy day run off.
First ascent 1941: Fritz Wiessner, Mary Cecil and Betty Woolsey.
[p24, The Gunks Select, Dick Williams]

John and David left us there to go climb something else.

There were two guys doing Baby before we got there, but it looked as if they would be done with the first pitch fairly soon. Before he left John pointed out the crux (the lower offwidth) and asked me if I had brought my big #4 camalot. I had and he said that I shouldn’t have too much of a problem. Lu and I talked to the belayer for a while, we also used the time to show Lu how some of the protection was placed and how to remove passive pro with a nut-tool and a hex (used like a hammer). The leader started bringing up his partner so we began setting ourselves up in earnest.

The first thing we did was to make sure that Lu was properly anchored while she belayed for me. I have mentioned before that my Brazilian friend is pretty small and very light. In the gym she has to anchor herself to the floor when she is on belay and is thus able to catch even the most unexpected falls. Without the anchor she would fly, as from a catapault. So we found a sturdy tree root, exposed by frequent human passing, girth-hitched a MacGregor sling to it and she clipped into that with a locker.

I climbed up and it was pretty mild until the crux, a big off-width crack that widens as it goes up surrounded by an otherwise featureless face. There I found that my big camalot protected it really well and so, after a while, grunted my way through a lay-back option (JP prefers to handjam it) up to a so-so stance above. From there things soon improved and I finished the pitch fairly easily, reaching a decently-sized and rock-strewn ledge. I anchored onto a big tree and then brought Lu up. The crux was very tough for her, I think she used hand-jams to get through it but I’m not sure, I couldn’t see her until after she got through it. She had no trouble removing any of the pro.

The two guys that climbed before us rapped down from the top of the second pitch while Lu was finishing the first pitch. They were pretty friendly dudes and gave Lu a little encouragement as they passed by on her right. Soon she was up beside me and we started to prepare for the second pitch. Lu anchored herself to the same tree I had used to belay her and she sat down beside it. We could already see the crux-roof from here, it wasn’t very big though. I worked my way up the line, it was very nice, until I got to just below the roof. There was a pin about three feet underneath it, so I clipped into that and then considered my options. I had to protect at that roof somewhere, I clearly had to pull over it on the right. I stepped up and squashed myself into a crouching stance underneath and looked about. I moved back down to my rest by the pin and looked back up again. That small crack bisecting the roof looked like a nice home for my #0.5 camalot. So I got it in hand and proceded to move back up under the roof to place it. But while I was squeezed into the upper stance, trying to wrench my arm around to place the camalot, I dropped the damn thing.

“Rock!” I yelled down at Lu. She scrunched herself into a little shape and I thought the piece hit her leg (apparently it only brushed her) before bouncing across the ledge and then into the top of the main crack which marks the end of the first pitch. Afraid that I had both injured my partner and lost a necessary piece I decided that perhaps I should go back down and check both. I looked at the pin I had clipped a runner into and decided it was fine, so I got Lu to lower me off from that. Back down on the ledge I found that she was just fine and the camalot was lying about two feet further down inside the big crack … lucky me. I hurtled back up pitch two and managed to put the camalot into the roof-crack without incident. I looked back down and saw John and David looking back up at me from the base of pitch one.

I pulled the roof with a couple of fierce hauls and then finished what remained of the climb. Lu managed all of the pitch, including the roof-crux (where at one point her feet slipped and she was literally left hanging in space by her fingertips), without any assistance. She’s getting pretty good out here on the real thing.

Below us John had started climbing the first pitch, but he didn’t have great pro at the crux so it took him a while to get through it unscathed. He was bringing up David as Lu and I rapped down (showering John with a few small stones in the process, gosh he got grumpy about that). It turned out that they had already done two separate routes while we schlepped our way up Baby. David was pretty hyper. He was feeling high to severe grippage too. But he was basically ok and on top of it. The only thing that seemed to really scare him was rappelling. Good. It should. Rappelling accidents kill a lot of climbers.

John speaks: "Dave and I did Dennis (5.5) and Classic (5.7) while you were on Baby. Dave had no clue about climbing gear (see - if you pull here the cams pull back! Magic!) but at least he didn't leave anything in. Dave also did Radcliff - but going down rather than up. His rating system is strange ... 5.7 moves right off the ground are easier than 5.3 with your butt in space."

John rapped down first and then I helped Lu set up. She went down and then it was David’s turn. He had no trouble despite his concern. He knew how to set it up properly (John had given him the lesson/exam on an earlier climb … you get to live if you pass). At the base John and I, before striking off for a distant climb, quickly walked right to find out if any of the nearer classics were free. As it happened Sixish was clear and so John said I should do that one while I could.

Sixish 5.4+ PG ***
Each year, this Hans Kraus classic becomes more popular.
     Start: 25 feet right of Jean, on top of some boulders below a large right-facing corner.
     Pitch 1: Climb up past a left-facing flake/small arching corner to a stance, then traverse left to the corner (or climb straight up to this spot via short right-facing block 5.6 PG). Continue up to the overhang and right-facing flakes, then move around left and up to a small belay stance.
     Pitch 2: Climb left past some small overhangs and then move back right and up a crack and the face above to the GT Ledge (90 ft. 5.3 PG).
     Pitch 3: Move left and climb the face at the outside of the corner to the overhang, move right and straight up to the top (50 ft. 5.4 PG).
First ascent 1951: Hans Kraus and Dick Hirschland.
[p28, ibid]

As John had hared off with David again I was forced to actually read the guide-book for this one, actually I just looked at the topo photo. While Lu and I set ourselves up we watched a young fellow guts his way through the crux of Drunkard's Delight (5.8- PG ***) which must be done before any pro can be placed at about 15 feet up. He did a great job and there was another party watching him pull through.

Just before I started up this friendly bloke dropped by to watch the guys on Drunkard's and warned me that the belay anchor at the top of my first pitch was no good and that I should ignore it, in fact he was tempted to remove it himself next time he climbed the route. I had planned on running the first two pitches together anyway, but it was nice to get the warning.

This was a tough climb, I think I did the 5.6 direct line to the stance, because there was a difficult mantle onto a narrow ledge about 30 feet up. I must have vocalized some disbelief about the rating for this climb, because the guy who warned me about the first belay anchors was looking up at me with a wry grin. Moving left from the stance and around the arete was scary but very cool. The anchors (a motley collection of slings, ancient pink tricam and two old pitons) were right there, they did look sort of dubious I guess. Above this things got very hairy indeed. I would climb up to where I thought I could place some pro only to find that the stance was terrible. I must have run out the last 50 feet up to GT Ledge. It left me feeling pretty drained and I wasn’t terribly sure where the third pitch started or went from here. Fortunately John came to my rescue. While I belayed up Lu, who would feel pretty scared on this long climb and endure much frustration with out-of-reach holds, John wandered along the trail down below and hailed me.

I let him know that I wasn’t real certain about the next pitch, so John said that he would be up there pretty soon to help out. Lu got up and sat down somewhere flat, she was pretty tired out and expressed annoyance at how the protection she removed (and then clipped onto her harness or a sling around her shoulder) kept catching on little ledges and things, which screwed up her balance and threatened to pitch her into the void.

John was right there with us in an astonishingly short time. Given how long it took Lu and I to do this route it was just unbelieveable how fast he raced up. It’s not that easy … is it?

Again John speaks: "While you did Sixish we ran up RMC (5.5). The highlight was a hissing crack. Fortunately it wasn't a rattlesnake or a cobra or some poison Australian mutant spider - just a little scared bat. Dave missed it though. Dave was getting serious brain cramps by the last pitch (1st pitch of Sixish) - he was slower following than Keith was leading.

Anyway, John set about dragging David (who was becoming somewhat desperate by this stage) up after him and giving me the necessary beta on the finishing pitch of Sixish. It was pretty damn cool, one of the two best pitches for the day I think. Go up the face just to the left side of the cave and traverse across right under a roof, then pull up through a small notch and go straight for the top from there. It wasn’t difficult, but with my butt hanging out in space for so long it was kinda thrilling. I even indulged in some minor skylarking when I saw that the traverse was over … swinging gibbon-like from a huge jug before scrabbling up to the top. Fun-o-rama.

John and David rapped down from GT Ledge while Lu finished the climb, she said that the last pitch was pretty enjoyable. Not as scary as the first one. John and David met us on the trail going back to the Uberfall (the downclimb that takes you back to a carriage road running beneath the Trapps). David said that he was all done and had no further interest in adventures vertical, for today at least. It seemed that he had endured quite a bit at the hands of John the merciless. Lu wasn't terribly sure that she wanted to continue either.

We wandered back up the carriage road and passed our earlier climbs discussing what we wanted to do. John had a couple of suggestions, starting with Madame G (full name Madame Grunnebaum’s Wulst) which is one of the great 5.6 classics. Unfortunately there were people on it. So John, in an effort to coerce the wavering Lu into one final effort, suggested that we do …

Beginner's Delight 5.3 PG ***
Don’t miss this Gunks classic, even if you climb higher grades.
     Start: 160 feet right of Credibility Gap, below a finger crack that begins 10 feet up and 40 feet left of Snooky’s Return.
     Pitch 1: Climb the crack up to the corner. Climb the corner or step around right and climb the face and left-facing flakes to a ledge below a huge corner (75 ft. 5.3 G).
     Pitch 2: Climb the corner about 40 feet, traverse left about 10 feet till below a small, left-facing corner. Move up to and follow the corner, then traverse left about 15 feet. Go up left past a dirty ledge to belay on boulders below a left-facing corner (130 ft. 5.3 PG).
     Pitch 3: Climb the corner to the overhang, exit right, then up a bit left to the short right-facing corner. Exit left and up to the top (60 ft. 5.3 PG).
First ascent 1948: Hans Kraus, Roger and Del Wolcott.
[p43, ibid]

John led the first pitch, I’m pretty sure he ran together the first two, it was way long anyway. Additionally, he didn’t place any pro until he was a good ninety feet up, which made us all a little nervous. It was a pretty mellow route though. With David opting for a reclining position on the ground, Lu and I simul-climbed on separate ropes as John belayed for us from above. I chose to do a 5.6 optional start to the right that John had pointed out while Lu followed the original route. We met up on top of a block and Lu asked me to give her a bit of space while she climbed ahead of me. It was pretty tough for her, again because of the height issue, but she made it through. When I followed her line I was definitely impressed at how she did the long traverse left virtually without handholds. We joined John up on the ledge …

I cannot remember anything about this lead. But I do know why. Would you want to remember this ... ? John speaks: "Keith managed to lead the last pitch of BD on the Peterson-approved rack: one draw and a #2 camalot. Way cool." Who needs total recall anyway?

At the top I quickly walked around a big tree and then used the loop of rope thus formed for my belay anchor. Lu came up next, tied into the middle of the rope, and said that she really liked this pitch as well. Then John arrived shortly after. We wandered right to a rap station and went down one after another to GT Ledge. I was last to go and had time to admire the beautiful fires of a clouded sunset and growing shadows across denuded forests below. When I got to GT Ledge John was lowering Lu to the base. We then simul-rapped on single ropes to speed up our escape.

With the last of the daylight fading away we trekked back to the car, stashed our gear, and headed home … stopping only for ice-cream and to search unsuccessfully for a liquor-store. It had been yet another fine day in the Gunks.