Why would I set my alarm clock to ring at 3:15am on Sunday? To get up of course for my next outdoor climbing adventure. I need to leave Fort Collins by 4:15 to get to the parking lot of Chautaqua Park in Boulder by 5:30 to meet my son Doug for our next climb. The planned conquest du jour is to scale the face of the third flatiron in the morning before the sun heats up the rock and makes it uncomfortable to the touch and avoid any possible afternoon storms.
I have seen the flat irons from a distance. They look big. I'm not sure if I have a short term memory issue relating to the size and scale of mountains, but as I get closer to the exposed rock I am awed by the size of the height and width of the bare rock. It takes us a while to get to the base of the rock formations. We hike along the road and trails past the first, past the second, and finally to the trail that leads to the start of the climb of the third. We hike over rocks and boulders doing a couple of switch backs till we get to the start of the climb. At the base of the climb, I look up and see rock and more rock. This is a tall climb. Years ago I climbed Devil's Tower in Wyoming with both of my sons and with Heidi, Doug's wife. That climb to the top of the Tower was big and it looked big because of its isolation and rise from the surrounding land. This climb exceeds the climb of Devil's Tower but is disguised because of the proximity of the other Flat Irons. We wait our turn behind two pair of climbers who made it to the trail head just before us. Doug is leading our climb and will place temporary protection in cracks and crevices of the rock so that our rope can flow through these anchor points and arrest any fall. My job is to belay him as he climbs and sets a route safe to follow. Once Doug reaches a permanent bolt he will set up a belay station and allow me to climb and clean the route by removing the temporary anchors as I climb to reach his new position on the rocks. This process is repeated as we complete each pitch up the massive vertical slab of rock. Sometimes the anchor is a fancy piece of hardware known as a cam. Other places a simple sling is placed over a knobby rock and a quick draw is attached to allow the rope to freely move through a carabiner. The route up is steep but the rock features many holds that allow a climber to step onto or grab a hold of. We are wearing climbing shoes, skinny soled wraps that use sticky rubber on the bottoms and sides that allow for good traction as we move across the rock. Using the holds and the shoes we move ever higher up the rock with each pitch of the climb. About midway up the rock on the third pitch , Doug noticed a rookie climber close by with a lot of rope hanging slack in front of him. Doug advised him to yell "up rope" to his belayer before moving on. If the climber would have fallen, he would have extended his fall by the yards of extra slack that had accumulated in his rope. The belayer has the responsibility of staying current with his climber. But sometimes there is no visual contact between the climber and the belayer. The climber must communicate with his partner to stay safe. Standard commands are used as climber jargon which sometimes must be shouted up or down the length of the rope. Doug and I follow an easy routine with each pitch. At the start of each new pitch we flake out the rope to eliminate tangle and knots, double check our harnesses and continue upward. This repetition is comforting as we move along the route climbing ever closer to the summit. On the fourth pitch we see peregrine falcons circling and squawking about humans invading their space. The spring months are off limits to climbers on the flatirons because of the nesting habits of the raptors in the areas. This climb has just been opened because the young birds are able to now move from their nests. The final pitch moves over a huge gap in the rock called the gash, that seems to drop down forever. Doug led this spot by climbing upward and found a small traverse to get over the gash. We summit and share the top with four other climbers who join us there. We stand about 1300 feet above the trail we see below populated with walkers strolling along. We look around and decide that this is a good place to be.
After a little conversation and admiration of the surrounding country side, we are offered a ride on the rope of our summit partners. The ride is down, straight down. We share the rope and each take turns rappelling down the rope to the next rappel station. After three rides down we are at the start of the hiking trail leading back to the start of the route.
We congratulate each other as we move down the trail smiling both inwardly and outwardly as we have conquered another obstacle and have done it safely enjoying each others company along the way. Thanks Doug.
