Alli Rainey Sends Private Halfenheimer (5.14a)
Saturday, August 7th, 2010Alli just touched base with us abut an incredible project she completed! Congratulations to her on the path less travelled…
I can’t even begin to capture yesterday in words, but I will try. The day started out rather inauspiciously. It was steamy hot—like 95 degrees in town—meaning that we’d be lucky to have it be under 85 degrees at the crag in the shade. Still, Lawrence, Alisa, Todd, Nori, and I rendezvoused at the river crossing close to 3 p.m. in hopes that we’d milk a decent day out of the conditions by heading up later. We made our way through the mooing, pooping cows up to the crag, with Alisa helpfully calling out, “Wet one!” as we passed each sloppy splotch they left in their wake on the trail in their effort to get away from us, shrieking and bellowing as they fled. I loved how every one of us humans ended up mooing in reply at some point…it’s just irresistible, really.
Up at the crag, it was hot. So hot that I didn’t even change into pants, and I never, ever climb in shorts. I belayed Lawrence on his warm-up burn on his project, and then gave my warm-up burn on mine, skipping the bottom boulder-problem bit and just climbing the middle hardness to try to get the feeling going. I’d already done three sets of 10 pull-ups at home; I’ve been playing around with this number trying to figure out the optimal amount of pull-ups to get my body warmed up without taking anything away from my power. I still honestly have no idea what the magic number is, so I’ll just keep on trying to sort it out as I go.
Then, I belayed Lawrence again…and he crushed Super Mama, putting up a tremendous fight, reeling it in again and again, and finishing with a couple of brilliant warrior cries before clipping the anchors. I was so psyched for him—this climb had been a true battle, pushing his finger to the point of near-injury and almost coaxing him to give up on it for a time, as he was worried about that finger until he discovered different beta for the move that didn’t stress it as much. And then, he crushed. Fantastic.
Somewhere during this time, the strong Italian guy, Daniele (sp.?), had showed up again, sans his gorgeous wife, Francesca, who had been struck by the puking plague that ran through us all last week. Daniele was trying to redpoint Sky Pilot, and after his first burn, he said it was so hot that he felt like he had to exert extra force on every tiny hold—not what a person wants. However, he styled the route on his second go of the day, crushing it with his exquisite near-static technique. Awesome to watch.
By this point, I’d had three burns on my project, making it through “the move” twice in a row again, only to fall at my high point from previous days. I felt tired and pumped on these go’s, and I’d pretty much decided that I wouldn’t be sending today. I was sitting and watching Lawrence hang draws on his next project, when Daniele suggested that I go again.
“I am safe belayer,” he said in his thick Italian accent, “I promise.”
Despite my issues and reservations with switching belayers midstream—and especially about getting belayed by someone I’ve never climbed with before—somehow, I did trust him, and the energy just felt right: positive, supportive, upbeat and honest. I accepted the offer, tied in, and instantly fell off of the bottom moves that I have pretty dialed—my fingers were screaming in pain, and I knew I didn’t have much left to give…or so I thought. I sat down, popped my shoes off, and talked about how I’d have to come back and send on Monday. And then I put my shoes back on to try again.
Next thing I knew, I was cruising the bottom boulder problem with utter ease, flowing through “the move” like I completely owned it, and arriving at the midway rest feeling stronger than ever. A wave of knowingness washed over me then, a sense of indescribable self-confidence and body-knowledge that told me I could do the route this time, right now. I launched into the cruxy bit that had been tossing me off repeatedly, and totally crushed it without a bobble. I proceeded up the next few still-steep moves, transitioned to the scary ‘n’ sketchy slab, and hiked up to the top anchors, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of climbing it altogether now. I clipped the anchors and whooped with joy.
I don’t know if I’ve ever crushed a really hard project for me with such authority and confidence ever before, but I can almost get teary about it—because that was the point in returning to this bottom sequence yet again. At long last, I can lay this baby to rest, knowing that I DID dominate this move, these moves, these sequences that continued to play with my mind and my being for years now. I know I will never climb these moves again in my life (no more possible link-ups off of this), and it’s a relief, for sure, but I also know that if I had to do it again, I could, on command, instead of waiting for the magical 1 in 50 chance (that’s what it seemed like before, anyhow) of snagging the move on a lucky go. And that’s what I wanted. It had gotten way personal, and now, it’s over, and I can move on knowing that I own that sequence and it doesn’t own me.
Delighted, I returned home and enjoyed an evening of mojito-driven training followed by a homemade chili dinner courtesy of some of my houseguests. We sat on the porch and rapped late into the night, laughing and sharing stories. The Italians drifted in to hang out for awhile, and I thanked Daniele again, telling him that I’d just give him a call the next time I needed to send.
Because that was cool, too—I sent the route with an unknown belayer holding my rope, but the energy and trust was there, and I didn’t think about it for a second once I left the ground, though I did hear his encouragement and it did help me up the route. I also wore shorts. Maybe those are the secret keys to sending…changing it up and letting go of routines. Or maybe not. Who knows? All I know is that I’m really excited to start this process all over again on my next climbing day…on something completely new and different. Yes!
Update: Private Halfenheimer is a link-up between Sky Pilot (original line, 13d; now with an extension called Galactic Emperor, 5.14a, that I climbed last year) and General Litzenheimer (5.14c). I began my battle with the original Sky Pilot back in the summer of 2006, getting repeatedly bouted by “the move” I mention in the post below, and not sending the route that summer. I sent in late in the summer of 2007, doing the route the first time I did “the move” in sequence ~Alli
In summer 2009, Kevin Wilkinson bolted the logical extension to Sky Pilot, which features a wicked boulder problem after the original anchors. I said I’d only do it if the additional climbing was cool enough, given my history of battling with “the move.” Of course, the new climbing was incredible to me, featuring ultra-technical pulls on tiny holds, so I was intrigued and dove in, hoping that I’d be strong enough to put “the move” away quickly. And still, despite my strength gains and serious training since 2007, I found myself stymied by the same move repeatedly yet again, sending Galactic Emperor the first time I did “the move” in sequence.
While working this route, I mentioned to James Litz that I wished I could at least climb the top two-thirds of General Litzenheimer, a route that I bolted. Unfortunately for me, the bottom third’s V12-ish boulder problem featuring huge lock-offs on ridiculously small holds is above my climbing ability. He suggested linking the bottom, closely spaced five bolts of Sky Pilot into the top seven more widely spaced bolts of the Litzenheimer, creating Private Halfenheimer, which he proceeded to climb as well.
In this route, I recognized my final chance to prove to myself that I was stronger than “the move,” and this motivated my training throughout last winter. This year, I felt scared, again, the first time on the bottom of Sky Pilot—until I realized that I could do “the move” statically (before it had always been a desperate thrutch with just a tiny hope of catching the hold), though it still felt quite hard. Then one day, hanging at “the move,” I for some reason tried out a higher, much worse foothold for my right foot—one that had never worked in the other years for me, since I couldn’t pull up and lock off on it. However, this year, it proved to be the way for someone my size with the strength to lock it down—while requiring more arm power initially, it made the rest of “the move” into something I could climb in sequence every time, instead of waiting for that one lucky snag.
This, then, was my goal for this route—to make “the move” mine, to get it out of my head, to climb into it with confidence, knowing that I could do it every time. And this, I accomplished…making sending Private Halfenheimer that much sweeter, since I climbed through “the move” about five times in sequence before I managed to not fall off up higher on the route. For me, this route wasn’t about climbing a grade. It was about defeating a long-term foe and conquering a weakness of my own, about proving something to myself. The day I sent truly was one of the best climbing days of my life—it was so rewarding to feel all of my training pay off.
~Alli
Climbing since 1992, Harvard graduate (’96) Alli Rainey lasted for a single year working a real-world job before she chose to take a different route, becoming a rock climber and freelance writer. As a climber, Alli’s accomplishments include redpoints of 5.14a and 50 5.13’s up to 5.13+ (including many unrepeated first ascents and first female ascents), onsights of more than 200 5.12’s up to 5.12d, bouldering V9, and winning and placing highly in numerous local, regional, and national bouldering competitions. Alli’s climbing sponsors include Acopa, Bonnie’s Balms, Clif Bar, Flashed, Flex-Power, Native Eyewear, Petzl, prAna, and Rocky Mountain Sunscreen. As a writer, to date Alli has completed several full-length book projects, including Wyoming: An Explorer’s Guide, due out in spring 2010. She has also written numerous articles for a variety of magazines and journals, including Rocky Mountain Sports, Men’s Fitness, Rock & Ice, Climbing, Alpinist, Gripped, American Alpine News, and Boulder Magazine, among many others.
My passion for climbing started as soon as I stepped into my first real climbing shoes, I knew that this is my sport.
my first 8b route.
