Buffalo Cragging, Round 2

Went to Buffalo Crag and had a pretty discouraging day, struggling with "easy" grades. This was my second time to Buffalo—though I've been to Rattlesnake once or twice and Bottle Glass once. However, this was my first time I was able to work from the guidebook. I'm still trying get my bearings as far as gradings go, but prior to this trip I know I've dispatched some 5.7s with no problem whatsoever.

First time to the crag with Steve.  He was able to send everything, excluding the fact that I don't think either of us did Reject Direct correctly.  (I'm pretty sure we both steered off route for the 5.8 crux move.)  I gave up on Fear of Flying and British F****ts.

We set the first top rope in an area West of the scramble near the railing.  It was above three routes I'd tried previously with Charles and company.  Veg was cake, but a good warmup.  This was my second time on R.D., but I don't think we did the correct route either time.  I think I'm a little oversized for Boa Constrictor, having had to climb outside the chimney in a key spot, but I was able to finish it this time.  It seemed harder, or at least more annoying, than 5.4.

For the second top rope, we hiked all the way to the end of Buffalo and scrambled down and walked back.  The guidebook says there's a "descent gully" at 50m, but we found it a bit ridiculous and untraveled, so we just scrambled back up the end again to set the rope.  Steve did FoF, with a whole lot of work, then B.F. came a lot easier to him.  I fell off FoF about the same number of times at Steve, but gave up on it and tried B.F.  After fumbling a few attempts on B.F., it was late in the day and I figured it was time to head home.  So, I just skipped over to Piece of Duff, which looked like a much easier line.  Sent with no problem, then hauled up the packs and belayed Steve from the top.  

1. Veg (5.2): Named for a prominent Ontario climber. Start at 115m. Climb the corners and dirty ledges to the top.
2. Reject Direct (5.8): Start 3m right of Boa Constrictor. Climb a shallow groove over a bulge leading to a short finger crack.
3. Boa Constrictor (5.4*): Start at 113m. Climb the squeeze chimney, and head right at the top.
4. Fear of Flying (5.8): Start at 40m. Work your way up to the roof.  Follow the thin crack to the easy groove.
5. British F****ts (5.5): Start at 41m. Climb the crack just right of Fear of Flying, follow the easy groove.
6. Piece of Duff (5.5*): Start at 44m.  Climb up to a clean corner, follow this to the roof, move left and get in the groove.

My Review of EMS Packable Pack

Originally submitted at Eastern Mountain Sports

Need an ultralight back-up backpack for emergencies? Stuffs down to the size of a grapefruit.

EMS Packable Pack

Mixed

By Adam from Buffalo, NY on 1/15/2012

 

3out of 5

Pros: Cinch cord, packable, Hydration bladder pocket, Lightweight, Water bottle pockets

Cons: Durability, No sternum strap

Best Uses: Climbing, Gym Bag, Carrying small loads

Good value. I use the pack for everday use, heading to the rock gym, for carrying a jacket while cross-country skiing, but not as a summit pack, etc. After a few months of moderate use, the top loop ripped off on mine and I'm definitely wishing it had a sternum strap. I'd look for a Marmot Kompressor on sale instead -- sternum strap, ice axe loops, compression straps, etc.

(legalese)

Holiday Valley - 1/7

Spent the early part of the day on Saturday at Holiday Valley (trail map), trying cross-country skiing for the first time.  It was a mess—40 degree temps for two plus days leading up—but good to get out.  Went out with the Buffalo Nordic Ski Club and ADK-NFC, with a potluck after.

We took the lift from the Tannenbaum lodge up to the top of mountain and skied west through a pretty muddy patch of the cross-country trail (which was technically closed), after having a false start down the Tannenbaum slope.  (A little scary for a guy who's never skied at all.)  We then met up with the rest of our group who had skied up the mountain, went around Spruce Lake and then headed off a back snowmobile where there was much better snow.

Except for the more rutty snowmobile ruts.  Several wipe-outs later, I'd gotten a world better and had hotspots on my feet to testify to the learning curve.

Anyway, what a slow winter.  Thinking snow. . . .

Americana

Tonight, when finishing up Pamela's latest musings, a line popped into my head:

". . . I'm just a child playing cops and robbers forever."

I want to comment, but my own take is so unseasoned that I could only deal in shoulds.

"I want [. . .] to have conversations about art and Aristotle and poetry and physics and gardening and God and fairy tales and frescoes and geography and goldfish . . ."

This isn't something that people do near me.  I don't think this is typical anywhere.  When I'm out with people, we talk about politics and sports and work and houses and kids and relationships.  We blame others for our political, financial and employment problems and bang our heads against the mysteries that are our respective significant others.

Other, other.  Less whimsy.

A young poet I know recently posted the following quote to Facebook:

There is no place for grief in a house which serves the muse.

– Sappho

And I can't help but disagree. And I'm hoping that something was lost in translation (which I suspect). 

For me grief and sadness (and starkness) are defining to my favorite poetics. Unlike regret and anger, grief and sadness seem driven out of compassion and I don't think, per intuition, that they can be thought of as "bad". Maybe I would characterize a kind of compassionate, altruistic attachment as opposed to a possessive, entitled attachment that is the differentiation.

I do wish to dismiss my anger and regret, because it's destructive, counterproductive, combustible.  Ideally, I don't wish to dismiss my grief and sadness, because it's laced with loved things, ardor, nostalgia.  But I can wish to dismiss my grief and sadness if it's too much at one time or too difficult.

There is no place for despair, resentment, hate, regret, denial, perhaps.  Ideally.  But then, maybe it's more like "This bar is no place for a woman like you."  One can still be there, but disaster is portended.

And poets are no strangers to disaster.

Anyway, Elizabeth Bishop has started on this before, but played off grief.

10K Erg: 44:35.8

Distance: 10,000 m
Time: 44:35.8
Avg/500m: 2:13.7
Stroke Rate: 17 s/m
Heart Rate: 157
Notes: Felt like poop.

Recent Best: 41:15.5 on Oct. 4

Paradise by the Dashboard Light

It's literally been a few years since I've been involved in the blogosphere--for several real-life reasons. . . .

But I'm trying to return more to myself lately and return to activity. I have a few trips coming up this winter to that end and I'd like to share them here. Am thinking about using this space as a personal dashboard for my progress and status on these things that are important to me that I've been neglecting. Of course, this'll probably be less philosophically juicy than the old online incarnation--but it may be the case that I'm less philosophically juicy.

All of this amounts to discipline, of course. It's so easy to slip into the daily routine (thanks, Rilke) dictated by others' expectations and needs. It's so easy to find oneself one day characterized as unremarkable by another and think, "Crap, when did that happen? I used to at least be an interesting mess." I think, for me, the key lately has been finding the discipline to maintain oneself when so much is asked of and placed upon you.

So, I want to quantify my self-denial or self-actualization. I want to examine where I've been compromising and losing and flittering out.

I've read a lot to the end of "letting go" being a desirable skill. Maybe that's the counterpoint. That we should be so malleable as to be able to let anything go as far as expectations for what we will be able to do with our time and our lives, and as far as any expectations for what will make us happy, even with the theater of past experience playing in front of us.

Then there is the other. And that's where it gets really tricky.