Friendly local

8:00am
The jays peck at the road where we drained the tortellini last night. Camp is broken. We wander the site, searching for a lost vestibule pole. Never did find it. Maybe that crazy coatimundi done took it.

8:50am
Bumping down the wash, the climbercar takes it in the midsection a couple more times as we listen to some local radio jocks making fun of a dumb guy. After goofing on the guy for a while they hang up on him and announce to the radio audience, "I feel like I got dumber just talking to that guy."

9:40am
Whacking the fabled Arizona bush. The guidebook approach was posted so we parked at the next turnout and headed out into the desert scrub. Bootpaths diverge, then dissipate, and soon we're threading our way through the basin, finding the path most spineless. Above the basin, the dome is in view the whole time. The forest is obvious, we just need to negotiate the trees.

Fearsome Arizona Flora

Seems like I was reading or hearing of this fearsome Arizona flora. Either that's a load, or we just haven't seen it yet. What we sampled was casual. A bit of strategizing and you're through the stuff in a timely fashion. Those catclaw spines can be nasty if you just puff out yer chest and stride right in, but they don't bother a backpack. The agave blades will pierce your skin if you charge straight-in, but if you brush 'em sideways, the spines are fernlike. Cacti don't present an obstacle as they're few and far between. The one plant that nearly did do me in though was this sawgrass stuff. What it lacks in puncture power it makes up in guile. It won't draw blood or anything, so it's usually the preferred choice over the prickly things when you've gotta crash though something. Once you're drawn in, the surprisingly strong strands'll loop around your boot. With the ends of the blades held down by your other boot, the snare will send you sprawling. Headed for a piercing at the agave.

Catwalk

11:00am
A grunt up the hill and we're at the base. It's a big obvious right-facing chimney-type thing. It's fairly easy, fairly strenuous. I waste bunch of energy retrieving a well-placed #4 camalot 'cause I don't wanna burn it so low. There's a mandatory squirm-chimney section and a cool sequence at the top, which of course, involves a chickenhead. It's a fun pitch.

12:20pm
I'm downclimbing this wild catwalk on a dike. You can walk on top with no hands or hand-traverse below. Staying on top was great for coming up, but now I'm sorta wishing I'd chosen to hand traverse back. This is the second time we've done this. Mark lead up this, couldn't find a belay then downclimbed back to his present perch. Then I came up here looking for the passage to the next dike. Looks like the way up is down, back by the belay.

Dike

1:30pm
I'm leading up what is probably the last pitch. It's gotta be the right way, but it looks steep, and where's that bolt the description described? Balancy no hands up dishes in another dike, then a wee chickenhead, about 1/2 beer-bottle size. Choke that baby off and head up the big edges. A couple of steering-wheel plates, a cool crystal pocket, and finally the bolt materializes. Rusty Leeper at ten o'clock. One balancy move and it's yardsville up onto the big dike slicing in from the left.

2:40pm
On top of the dome, we're sitting in the hot Arizona sun, munching sandwiches.