The Gunks - NY
The what??
The Gunks. (Okay, the Shawangunks, but who ever calls it that?) A gem of American climbing. Civilized, historic, convenient, prolific, wonderful. A lifetime's worth of climbs, and the genesis of many a lifetime's climbing (including mine).
I went to the Gunks for the first time with only the most vague notion of what the climbing caper entailed. I'd top-roped at a few of Boston's stunted crags, and frankly couldn't see what all the fuss was about. However the notion of taller cliffs and better views caught my attention, and I happily acceded when offered a chance to go to the Gunks.
Approaching New Paltz from the south, the first view of the cliffs was not that memorable. Getting closer though, their nature became clear - though they aren't particularly tall (a few pitches at most), the cliffs go on for miles. Closer still, they dominated the hillside. I became increasingly impressed, and a little daunted.
Though many climbers never make it past the Near Trapps (where you climb from trackside), we continued along the trail to the Madame Grunnebraum's Wulst area. IIRC, the first climb I followed (and hence my first ever) was Northern Pillar (5.2), but it was Madame G's (5.6) which stays in my mind to this day.
Madame G's is one of the Gunks' many unlikely 5.6s, and probably its most outstanding. (Although High E fans will debate that.) It takes a diagonal line up a tremendous and unrelentingly steep buttress. And, oh yeah, although there are no ledges, it nonetheless pauses half way up for a belay! My first and best hanging belay, and an extended moment of revelation. I hung off the face, connected only by three flimsy-looking metal contraptions wedged into the rock, and felt my horizons expand.
I do remember wondering how I was going to get out of the predicament - thinking that I'd reached my limit and wouldn't be able to go further. On that final pitch, I also remember fighting off the ever-present sense of an impending fall. And, when I got to the top, I remember a distinct sense of astonishment and pride that I actually did it!
In a single climb, a whole gamut of experience and emotion was laid open to me. It was a compelling combination, one that I still find myself seeking out today. Although it sounds trite, the expansive views from the clifftop echoed the mood I was in as we milled about up there, far above, and removed from, the plains below.
Coming back down to Earth was equally thrilling. The quickest way off Madame G's is a 50 metre, free-hanging rappel off the right end of the buttress. (As if I needed any reinforcement of just how spectacular a climb it had been...)
So Madame G's was all it took, really. It left an indelible mark, and in the year following this trip, I well and truly learned the ropes of this uncommon activity. I did long climbs in Nevada, I lead ice climbs in New Hampshire. (And of course, I went back to the Gunks, a number of times.) I rediscovered courage and ambition, long-lost parts of my character. I met amazing people, and had amazing experiences. I learnt that a little belief in myself could make a lot of difference. And along the way, the person I am changed forever.