the corruption of youth

I'm sorry Aunt Darryl - I truly am. But like a crack dealer, I'm just serving a willing populace.

the backstory

So the whole climbing thing isn't terribly popular thing in my family. Sure people find it interesting, but hey, I'm not their kid.

Fast forwarding slightly, my considerably [?] younger cousin Max is living with us for the summer. He's been nothing less than an ideal guest. There may have been hope that I/we would be a positive influence. There was probably the [faulty] expectation that between Jennifer, Lauren and work there just wouldn't be time - or at the least, inclination. Sadly, for some, there was plenty of both former and latter.

a recent anecdote

So we (Bruce and you humble narrator) took Max out last week for some bolt clippin' at Roadside. Minus the torrential rain that cut the day [slightly (and quickly remedied by wings and beer)] short,we had a terrific time. And then, the phone calls started.

"So how was climbing?" asks my mother.

"Fine." I reply.

More questions follow eventually circling back to question #1.

"You know Mom, you've now asked more climbing-related questions in the past 15 minutes than you've asked in the past 15 years of me climbing."

"I know. I was just worried."

"He's still alive. Promise"

less exposition, more action

One week later and it's shaping up to be a beyond-perfect weekend at Seneca. Max is interested in something, ahem, bigger, and Bruce is interested as well. In particular, Bruce's attendance will mean that Max can gain the summit on some more interesting ground than Old Man's Route.

The parking lot is empty (deceptively so we'll come to find) when we arrive shortly before 10. There is some debate on the best way up. Bruce is pushing for the Ecstasy Jr. - Le Gourmet - Front C - Critter crack linkup. I'm down with most of that but want to start all the way down at Skyline and do the casual East Face linkup - mostly because it more or less follows the way I went my first time at Seneca. I have a distinct memory of doing those 3 pitches, having no idea where I was while turning to Andy and asking, "Are we at the top?"

Bruce demurs and we make our way up the East face trail. Skyline is coming into focus...doesn't look too bad...and then resolves into chaos. We turn around and head for the Stairmaster. We briefly consider Vegetable Variation and just as quickly discard it.

Between an in-shape Bruce and a young and in-shape Max (yeah, I just did that Bruce) I quickly fall behind. In short, I get thoroughly pwned. Max pats me on the shoulder like a supportive parent (or child with his grandfather),

"It's OK" he says.

A few minutes later we hit the bottom of Le Gourmet with a party already on it. I look at Bruce knowing that if we'd headed here directly/me not dying on the Stairmaster, we'd be on it.

"Sorry" I apologize.

"I wasn't going to say anything" he replies.

We make our way North and eventually settle on the first pitch of Monkey See, Monkey Do. Bruce blasts up with barely a pause at the crux and is at the belay in no time - pleased to see that it's a decent pitch despite his memory of it. Max works his way up next with just a bit of effort at the crux. I pad up last and make my way across the ledge to Front C.

My running joke about Front C is that I climb it in one of two ways - gracefully or desperate clawing. I make my way up and at the crux nearly lapse into desperate clawing. My typical fear plugs the crux jam with a #2 Camalot but I manage to get up somewhere between graceful and desperate - hopefully edging more to the graceful side of things. Max quickly follows, thrilled that he has managed an "actual move" in his words by employing a nice backstep through the crux. Bruce follows quickly (as he would) and quickly scrambles up to the base of Critter Crack.

We have a quick lunch as we watch some dark clouds swirl above us while the wind picks up. I shiver. Stunning for mid-July. Bruce explains the basics of jamming to Max and then heads up. One [uncharacteristic] pause at the crux and it's then Max's turn. He starts up.

"I'm going to punch Bruce in the face when I get up there" he gasps between breaths. "Just put in a jam he says. My. Ass."

Once past the requisite jamming, Max moves quickly with only one short hang at the crux. I, despite all previous evidence to the contrary, actual jam through the bottom without a problem and continue up. Probably the best jamming I've ever managed on Critter - I actually start to get what Bruce is always trying to explain.

We unrope on the summit ledge and head North. I rope up for the summit scramble and put in a few pieces for Max's benefit (who knew there was gear going up?). He quickly follows with only the slightest bit of trepidation.

I'll go ahead and say that Max was somewhat awed by the summit. While he'd become accustomed to the view to the West as we made out way up, the new 360 vista with a drop on all sides was something new. He signs the summit register and even stands on the true summit.

We stick around for a few minutes and then head back down for the Conn's West rap.

and then, there was the rappelling

Bruce ties the ropes together and slides on down to give Max a firemans just in case. I explain how rapping works, rig him with the standard BARK check, and then, with one slightly pleading look, he makes his way down. He's clearly not thrilled but we've told him few people are - it's a necessary evil.

We've already decided that we have time for another route and that heading back up Conn's West seems the easiest choice. By the time i finish rapping I find Bruce hard at work trying to free a purple Metolius fixed by some over-enthusiastic noob. After indulging him for a few minutes, I head up the chimney pitch. Max has one short fall at the beginning trying to follow the direct line and then some fun working out chimney technique.

Bruce swarms up and then heads up the corner pitch. Max has a great time on this pitch just working his way up with steady progress. I hit the belay just in time for an odd conversation with Bruce and another party trying to negotiate with us the share ropes for the rap - which we really don't need.

Max is much more comfortable on rappel this time. Two raps later and we're headed down (barely missing Danny on his way to do Back to the Front. Again). Our purpose is clear - chips and Sierra Nevada. One quick stop to see if Ben is around (complete with Bruce's clever, and remarkably legible, note to Ben using a burnt piece of firewood as writing utensil) and we're on our way home.

Sorry again Aunt Darryl - Max seemed to have a good time.