We found the base of the Entrance Cracks and ran into two local rappel enthusiasts, one of which was a paramedic. Steve joked with the paramedic about his condition and showed off his oxygen tank that he was going to climb with. I am not sure the poor guy knew how to take it all, but he offered his radio should anything go wrong. We roped up and I sent off on the most intimidating 5.4 I have ever touched. I purposely left my chalk bag in my pack at the base of the climb and immediately regretted it after a few minutes of struggling. Stone Mountain was hot in November and I was sweating...profusely. I down climbed to a stance where I could pull up my chalk bag on the trail rope then re-attacked the off-width crux of the pitch. Body jam, scoot. Body jam, scoot. There was a more fluid way to friction up the face to the right of the crack, but I was mentally badgered into the safety of the crack because of the run out. One more body jam and scoot brought me to a slight shelf on the right face. I left the crack here then frictioned up the face to a large tree where I anchored to belay Steve. There were bolted anchors up and to the left, but I felt that it was more important that I could see Steve while he climbed since he would not be able to speak once he started breathing hard.
Steve followed, touching rock for the first time in years after being diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis. He did exceptionally well considering his condition and it was good to see him climbing again. Once we were both up on the tree ledge, we walked over to the base of a classic route name The Great Arch. From the bottom of the route I could look out and see Stone Mountain in all of its "sea of granite" glory. I was truly amazed how anyone could have climbed the blank face of the mountain and drilled bolts while on lead. I realized that I had a lot of work to do if I was ever going to be comfortable on the Big Stone.
Steve resting before the crux of the Entrance Cracks.Photograph by Chuck Bolte.
Fortunately The Great Arch is not quite as blank as the rest of the mountain. A three pitch splitter dihedral is the left limit of the climb and a great place for grubby climbing paws. I tightened my shoes and started the beautiful and classic route. The beginning of the route curves out then back in following the dihedral. I place a yellow cam then cranked to a tree, which I slung with a runner. Above the sling I found a bomber hex placement then cranked the rest of the way up to the anchors, placing another cam along the way. I felt like I was starting to meld with the mountain and it felt good. Steve started up climbing well, but having to take breaks to catch his breath. He did look smooth and his footwork was excellent. His experience despite his medical condition showed. Steve made it to the anchors of the first pitch and it was 4 PM. Strict park policy demands that climbers be off the rock and out of the parking lot by 5:30 PM. We knew it was time to turn back, two pitches short of the summit. We would have more time tomorrow to re-attempt the route.
Steve on the first pitch of The Great Arch.Photograph by Chuck Bolte.
We easily made it back to the truck before 5:30 PM. Temperatures were quickly dropping as the sun went down. We made a bee line for the campground and picked a campsite away from the trees and under the stars. We made up our beds in my redneck RV then stoked up a roaring fire and cooked dinner. August was the last time I had camped or climbed outside. It had been far too long.
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