Journeys: Bozeman Bound

The morning air was cool and crisp. Steve was up before me and had built a small fire to help the Earth warm up, but the sun soon took over the job. By 9 AM it was surprisingly t-shirt and shorts weather so we quickly broke camp and headed back to the base of Stone Mountain. We repeated our ferrying of Steve and the packs to the handicap parking lot then I jogged up from the trailhead parking lot. We were on the Entrance Crack at 10 AM and I knew we had plenty of time to climb the Great Arch and make it back down before 5:30 PM, even at our hampered pace. I also knew, as I was struggling up the Entrance Crack, that I was climbing much worse than yesterday. The tendonitis in my left arm was flaring up again and my calves were sore. Steve came up the Entrance Crack and we walked over to the base of the Great Arch. My assessment of a rough day ahead came true. I struggled to get in rhythm on the first pitch and probably took twice as long to lead it as the day before. For some reason I felt like my feet were going to slip right off the rock every time I put them down. Steve eased his way up the first pitch then I started the second. I finally found some rhythm and made a confident run out over the last 30 feet of the pitch. Steve eased his way up to the top of the second pitch. I started on the third pitch and struggled in places where the crack petered out, losing my rhythm. I finally reached the easier climbing at the top where the dihedral becomes a flake and cruised to the anchors. Steve eased his way up to the top of the third pitch.

Steve enjoying the view on The Great Arch.
Photograph by Chuck Bolte.

I made Steve pose for a hero photo with his oxygen tank and then we made three raps down to the Tree Ledge, then a final rap down to the ground. Steve was in good spirits and was thankful for the experience. Admittedly, it was great to see him out again doing something he had been passionate about for so many years. I was glad to be there to help him along. We were at the truck by 4:30 PM. Steve wondered if we had set a record for the slowest party on the Great Arch. We toyed with the idea of camping on the way home, but ended up pushing through to Roane County, rolling in at 10:15 PM. Exhausted I crashed on the floor of the cabin, finally free of the sea of granite.

Oxygen tank hero pose.
Photograph by Chuck Bolte.