Sunny following Olive Oil by Ed Hobbick

We spent the first two days climbing Cat in the Hat (5.6, 5 pitches) and Olive Oil (5.7, 7 pitches). A late start got us to the base of Crimson Chrysalis (5.9, 9 pitches) the third day as the 4th party in line. By 10am, the party ahead of us had still not started climbing and, although we had our headlamps with us, we didn’t want to use them. The descent requires double rope rappels and stuck ropes on the velcro-like, featured sandstone are not uncommon. We decided to get an earlier start next time and opted instead for Frogland (5.8, 7 pitches) in Black Velvet Canyon located outside the loop drive. We didn’t have to worry about the 7pm exit time and the descent is an easy walk-off.

As we cruised through the cattle guard and pulled into the Black Velvet Canyon parking area, the magnificent line up Black Velvet Wall rose before us like a phoenix through the sweltering afternoon heat and a choir of angels descended from heaven singing their song. It was not Frogland. Our minds were fixed on the climb we had spoken of on the plane ride from Seattle and during the weeks before our trip—Epinephrine. It is a hormone produced by the adrenal gland that causes a rise in blood pressure and we felt it coursing through our veins. Eighteen pitches of Grade V, 5.9 varied climbing—chimneys, dihedrals, crack and face climbing. I stood frozen and transfixed for some time, finally moving slightly only to point to the route and murmur under my breath “I want it.” Ed raised his eyebrows looking worried and said “We’ll see. Lets climb Frogland and we’ll think about it.” But the peaceful sound of the chirping frogs in the canyon that day did not deter me.

The next morning we arrived at the base of Epinephrine by 5:30am and were climbing by 6. Although the descent was a walk off, we trailed a second rope in case we decide to rappel from the top of Black Velvet tower. The first seven pitches leading to the top of the tower are the crux due to three long sustained 5.9 chimney pitches. If we didn’t make it to the top of the tower by our noon turn-around time, then we would rappel. Because of the strenuous chimney pitches, we carried no packs and instead used our pockets and harnesses to carry food, water, descent shoes, a jacket and headlamps.

	Sunny on Olive Oil by Ed Hobbick

To save time, we scrambled up a low 5th class section to by-pass the first pitch. Ed led the second pitch of bolted face climbing and I wriggled through a small “warm-up” chimney for the third pitch. After a short 4th class section, the three consecutive chimney pitches began. I led off into the first chimney and, after twenty minutes of grunting and cursing, topped out at a tiny ledge. As Ed arranged gear to take the next lead, I ate the bagel from my back pocket that was now smashed to the width of a MOFA textbook. I apologized for getting us into this. Ed said nothing as he looked up in fear and, being a less vocal climber than I, quietly climbed the second chimney section. I started the final chimney pitch with shaking legs. Not wanting to start another exhausting chimney in my current physical state, I decided to back off—that first chimney had really sapped my energy. I ate Goo and rested. Ed took the gear and offered to lead the final chimney if I would haul up his water and descent shoes on the trailing rope, leaving him light and free to move easily. He thought to himself “We have to make it to the top of this climb today because I never want return to do these chimneys again.” We reached the top of the tower at 11:45. With the hard climbing behind us—no more dreaded chimneys—we made a quick decision to go for it. We topped out at 4:30pm with only one other mishap when I dropped my rappel device, but the Munter hitch worked fine. The descent was one hour long, so we were in good shape. Or so we thought.

The descent description said to, “Head to the top of Whiskey Peak.” But which peak is Whiskey? We assumed it was the nearest peak and followed the description from there. We went down a few gullies. All ended in cliffs. Eventually, dusk was upon us. After hearing about accidents and deaths caused by climbers descending on steep slabs in the dark, we decided to stay put for the night. We donned our wind jackets and huddled together to keep warm. The desert gets surprisingly cold at night given the 85°F+ daytime temperatures. From the top we spotted the warm lights of Vegas twenty miles in the distance where people feasted at all-you-can-eat buffets. We feasted on our last pack of Goo and drank our last bit of water, saving our only remaining food—a pack of peanut M&Ms—for breakfast. After a restless night, the morning light finally arrived. We headed for what we thought was the correct gully. But it wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.

	Rope coiling by Sunny Remington

After a short descent on scree and slabs, we came to a series of rappel bolts. Two single rope and two double rope rappels landed us in the same drainage we had hiked into the previous day, where the landscape transitioned into a series of short cliff faces. As we set up short rappels, lizards scampered by on the vertical canyon walls—mocking us. We threw our first rappel rope and heard it splash into one of the pools of water that sat at the shady bottom of these small cliff sections. One pool was so deep that we were forced to go off rappel while treading water and then swim across the icy tarn. Soaking wet and shaking from the cold, we continued our rappel-swim sequence down the shaded canyon. Would this be the first case of desert hypothermia? Finally, we reached the true bottom of the drainage sans much gear due to our unanticipated rappels. We found our packs, chugged the water we had left behind and reached the car around 1pm to find an “Abandoned Vehicle” warning taped to the driver’s side window. We laughed as we watched the wild burros (asses) running across the desert landscape. We wondered if we should join them.

Lessons learned? Know your descent route. The climb is only half over when you reach the top. If we had known the descent, we would have made it back to the car by dark and avoided an unplanned bivy. Look at several route descriptions and ask local climbers by going to climbing shops or gyms in nearby towns. Especially, know landmarks mentioned in the description. Whiskey Peak was about a mile walk along a ridgeline, but the description didn’t mention this. Also, don’t skimp on too much gear to save weight. If we hadn’t had all that extra gear for rappels, we could have been in real trouble. Finally, be versatile by knowing alternative methods of belaying (Munter hitch) and rappelling (carabiner brake). Lost gear shouldn’t stop you from returning safely.