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Sublimate this! 27-Feb-2012 At 10:25:20 AM f_ladou

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There has been so much activity in this Forum about Sublime Point during the recent weeks. People have been putting up many new routes in what's referred to as the Main Area. I was very tempted to go back to taste a few of them over the weekend.

But then, I have also been wanting to do another climb put up by Neil, Will and Jason in January 2011 which made it to our local pantheon of photo of the week : Subliminal. Why this particular climb? Well, because of the second pitch. More on this topic in a sec.

I remembered that, at the time, the rap-in was rather awkward and the logistic of it turned me off. Since then, it's been made (relatively) simpler by the addition of an easier rap-route following a neighbouring climb by the name of Castaway (BTW, having done the rap along it, Castaway looks very interesting). So, on Saturday, Cassandra and I did it: 3 pitches, grade 22 max, 99 meters (yes, 99 not 100 dammit).

In order to start writing this trip report, I sat down and did the meditative writer's routine which yielded the following stream of consciousness (comma separated, truncated to the first five entries):

pump, pump, pump, pump, pump

Entries six to ten were a little more useful as writing material goes:

3m, orange, grey, relief, beer

Hopefully, it'll be clearer in a minute. So here we go.

Topo in hand, standing at the top of Castaway, ready to abseil, I did a quick calculation: 22 draws for 65 meters is about 3 meters per draw or more precisely 2.95m. Not that I mind, really, but it sorts of quantify, if only partially, what the second marathon pitch of Subliminal had in store for us. That pitch was the reason for us being there. The plan was to proceed with the three abseils down to the start of the climb. Each abseil is not that long but you just can't combine any two of them even with a 70 meter rope. Annoying.

So three abseils later, Cass and I were standing at the first belay of Subliminal, a hanging stance "right above the lip of a giant roof". Actually, that probably wasn't the first belay. The first pitch (20m, 20) is a very funky traverse along that lip and the stance I chose as the first belay had bolts running horizontally both on my left and right. Actually, there are lots of bolts down there and quite frankly, I really wanted to get on with the show.

So, starting from our chosen belay station, pitch one is an easy if airy traverse at about grade 17 or 18. I started to traverse walking on the obvious narrow ledge but this rapidly becomes cumbersome and it's far easier to use the ledge as a handrail, as you can see from the following picture:

Myself on pitch one - falling there would probably require you to prusik up. You've been warned.

This 20 meter traversing adventure brings you the the belay stance of the money pitch. This fabled 65m, 22 draws, overhanging pump fest is set on fantastic solid orange rock. So, all things being equal, this should be relatively solid climbing with the pump being the major factor. So up I went and after 5 clips my forearms gave up. I took out my camera and shot a picture of Cass on belay duty:

Cassandra on the belay of the money pitch.

Note how relax and good-willed she looks. This is just as well because I was about to test her patience. From there on, and for about 30 meters, I basically sat on every second bolt. It seemed to me that every move on that climb was grade 22 - even the clipping. I'd push on, sometimes using solid jugs, sometimes through rather technical sections, constantly reminded how great climbing in the Blueys can be and that I need to work on my stamina.

And then came the exposed arête: the orange holds on the main wall vanished and you shift to the arête and test your almost forgotten oath to stoicism. Well above your last protection (3m, remember?), you must commit to the arête and blindingly slap along it, praying that some positive hold will eventually materialise under you fingers. It eventually does and you realise soon after clipping the next bolt that you need another break. This time adrenaline induced.

Eventually, the climb wraps around the arête, from orange to grey rock, from lovely ochre to worrying dirty grey. It gets easier, much easier but somehow I want to go back to the orange side. No luck. I've got two draws left on my harness. I can see the next bolt and hope that the double ring belay is just above. At that precise point, when you think this grey tribulation is just about over, do not forget the memorable sentence in the route description: "aiding on the last couple of bolts on this pitch might make it more pleasant". Curiously, the grey, juggy, almost lace-like rock turns into a bulgy, roundish and annoyingly unwieldy obstacle. I'm pumped, I'm almost at the end, I just... don't... need... this. Ok, I pulled through but only to fight for another 5 minutes with the very last bolt. I finally give up, put two slings in, a short and a long one, and basically completed my second aid move ever (there you go, M9).

To say I was tired after this is quite an understatement. I set up the belay, reverso and all, sat on the edge of the cliff and shout "on belay". Strangely enough, I can ear the wind, birds, crickets but from Cassandra, not a word or rather some faint chirping from 65 meters below. Soon after she started to climb, the rope tensed up. With 65 meters of rope between us, the stretch she experienced when she fell brought her down many meters onto a blank section (the beginning of the pitch is a diagonal). This was the beginning of a rather long process to bring her back onto action. A prusik would have been a good idea… All the time, I worried that Cass will be in a foul mood when she finally came into sight but check this out:

Cassandra finally reaching the belay. I feared the worse but check out the smile!

We're both exhausted, made mincemeat of the last pitch (15m, 15), headed to Springwood's pub to order a beer and a cider. I think Cass was happy. I know I was.

On a unseasonally sunny Saturday, where else would you rather be?

Cheers, François

Subliminal (99m, 22) Neil Monteith, Will Monks and Jason Lammers, early 2011.
Chockstone picture of the week, 24/01/2011