As I looked down into the gully on pitch 7 of the New England Classic, Northeast Ridge of the Pinnacle, I remembered the advice I was given earlier in the summer about beginning trad leading. Go slow. Try some shorter, easier routes with good protection. Follow a lot of routes and learn through cleaning the pitch. Practice a lot on the ground. The ‘fairy-tale traverse’ was wet and the drizzle was building up on my helmet and beginning to drip down onto my face. Just keep going up.
- Following Kellen up the Cake Walk on Humphreys Ledge
Earlier this summer I decided in order to be a more rounded alpinist I had better start leading trad. For years I exclusively climbed in winter. Sure I would take friends to top rope their first time climbing rock outdoors, but for me if it wasn’t frozen I wasn’t into it.
Luckily I have great friends and they are always looking for climbing partners. Kellen Busby has been a big inspiration. He’s only been climbing for a short time, but he takes the craft seriously, and he is thorough. I started climbing with him last winter and to see his progression has been impressive. Though conventional wisdom for beginning trad is to go somewhere relatively safe and straight-forward, I tossed wisdom aside and climbed longer and slightly confusing routes. See the Whitney-Gilman Ridge of Cannon Mountain
This was a big climb for Kellen. And a big confidence boost for me. Following this pizza-eating, joke-cracking, strongman up a line I had been dreaming about for years could have been the highlight of my summer (had we not continued to climb every weekend thereafter). I was so inspired, as a matter of fact, I decided three weeks later to lead the climb myself with another great friend I share a rope with: Odin Achorn.
We started at dawn and were able to make it back to the van by 2pm. As Odin came up to the belay after following ‘the pipe pitch’, he echoed something I had said to Kellen weeks before. “Thanks for leading that one! Fuck” Trad must be contagious because a few weeks later Odin would be the proud owner of a new rack and was leading his own way to rock freedom
- To climb the lines you’ve always daydreamed about, one must simply leave your house and go out and climb. Odin is a founding member of the MIT Surf Club and is currently working on a PhD. in Chemistry
To be honest, everything I climbed this summer was very easy in terms of difficulty. I’m not a strong climber, and my technical skills are pathetic when it comes to crimps and face climbs. However, I am pretty good at having fun, and our next big climb was the most fun I’ve had all season.
What a gift it was to watch the sun rise out of the Mount Washington valley and cast its purple alpine glow onto the buttress. Though not technically demanding, the Northeast Ridge of Pinnacle Buttress is very much a committing route. After instant oatmeal and a necessary cup of coffee we start the approach.
For the sake of time and trying to stay ahead of the weather, Kellen and I opted to simul-climb. This allowed us to cruise through the first two pitches, arriving safely at an anchor just in time for a passing shower. Uncertain of the rapidly changing weather and the potential for slick rock, we decide to eat peanut butter and jelly for thirteen minutes before making a decision to continue or bail.
Continue. Kellen, using a miraculous and amphibious grip, is able to lead pitch three despite the lightly falling rain. Following is unclean. I pull on gear in an effort to move more quickly, and slither my way up in a slug-like manner. By the time I meet Kellen at the belay, the rain has stopped and our fears of getting flushed have been replaced with feelings of excitement and joy.
The remaining pitches were dry and brilliantly exposed. Looking over the edge into Pinnacle Gully was not as vertigo-inducing as peering down into the Black Dike from Whitney-Gilman, but the view of the cutler river drainage flowing behind us in mid October was truly remarkable. The alpine playground we found ourselves in did not disappoint.
From the upper slopes of the buttress we looked down to watch the party climbing below us make their own fairy-tale traverse. Seeing it done by our friends confirmed what we had felt during our own passage: It’s freakin’ amazing! Having spent the previous night and most of the day in Huntington Ravine, we decided it was time to make a cautious descent and return to our day jobs. Weekend warrior is a term which never sits well with me. Working-dirtbag is more applicable, and if war were anything like this weekend, I would definitely re-enlist.
- Kellen Busby is a technology mastermind, an avid adventurer, and a great friend.
climb with crowley 