I feel like I've been in a train wreck, but more on that later...
Had a good day bouldering yesterday with plans for another today. A slew of folks were in the Valley today and chomping at the bit to climb on dry rock. Scott had cleaned a couple of really nice lines on a large boulder behind Curry Village last week and we were all keen to check them out. He was able to do the hard bit of both problems last weekend but was denied the summit by the tears of a wrathful god. The petty god was a little more generous today, but only by a narrow margin.
The rain held off just long enough for Scott to make it through the crux but then the skies opened up. Fortunately, he was able to keep it together and top out amidst a downpour. The decent became adventurous as well because of the deluge. It involved a butt slide down some moss to a ramp that launched him onto the awaiting pads 8 feet below.
After a bit of hiding under the shelter of an overhang the rain briefly stopped and I decided to have another go. I made it to my high point first try and proceeded on into unknown territory. I was forced to utilize a thumb-undercling-gaston (or thumbdercling) and a wild cross over but it worked and I made it to the jug at about 3/4 height. All of this sports action was made possible by a cleverly designed "waterfall eliminator device" created by Monica. Basically, she hung a plastic bag on a bubba brush and positioned it below a major watercourse on the boulder and above my face while I climbed. Of course, when I made the first of two crossovers I managed to spill the accumulated contents of the bag all over my lap...ah, but I digress.
All that was left was the V0/1 top out. Unfortunately, it (and I) was drenched and Scott's method would have been impossible. So again I ventured into unknown territory. At this point I'm up quite a ways, I think my head was about 2o feet above a less than ideal landing. As I pressed over to the left off of a slimy wet right hand sloper I really focused on trying to keep my weight on my feet while navigating my torso around the bulge at chest height. Just as I grasped what felt like a jug, approximately one foot from the top, my right hand blew off and I knew airtime was imminent.
The fall was BIG, but more frightening than the height was the single small pad beneath my feet and all of the rocks just beyond the reach of pad. I was able to collapse myself in the direction of the other pads and I somehow suffered no injuries but I feel like a very old man right now. The salt in the wound is that I didn't send despite having climbed "the problem" and now I'm unsure if I'll have a chance to climb it with a spotter and multiple pads before next fall. You see, despite the wacky temps of late I'm sure scorching days are just around the corner and I will soon see less and less of the bouldering addicts that frequent these parts.
Anyhoo, here's a picture of Scott shortly after sending.