Life off the deck was good. Weather wasn't blistering hot, but warm. At night the temps were a model of perfection for sleeping. The ledge was perched high. We wanted a spot where the ledge would be against vertical wall. Rocking on low angle in a porta ledge sucks. These will give you a bit of an idea how it was on our final push at the Life Guard ledge now that you've seen the "Beach" below.








I think we had fixed to this point and this day was just about getting gear up and ready and the next day we would push. In any event, the pitch above Life Guard would prove to be the psychological crux for us. A couple of placements in your ladders exposes you to an 'awkward as fuck' flared section to a downward facing flare that is just out of reach.
Tim had this pitch now and it proved to be more than a little challenging. So much can go into a single piece, a single crack, a single pitch. Often the depth of one's soul must be searched. I don't mean searched in a superficial 'a life unexamined' blah blah blah, but in that sense in which we put ourselves into a fiery crucible of unknown depth and width. Perhaps it isn't hot enough to burn if you touch it, but from the outside looking in, expectation sets upon you. What if?
Filth of lichen came pouring down. Scratching, making eyes water. Slipping left, then back right. Stopping.
The Deep Soul wide climbing, overcome only through an offwidth technique applied at oblique angles. A cam finally placed above in he downward flare section relieved Tim of his internal moral compass that says "i must finish my pitch". I made a devil's bargain with Tim given the crap he just went through. 'If you get us through this section I'll get us the remainder.' The roof looked thin, but gear-able. I thought for sure this wide awkward aid, to free, and back to aid transition was going to be it.
I didn't know yet.
Tim set some more pieces to midway anchor and I went up. More lichen fell as I moved under the lip of the flake/roof. Thin gear. Seemed solid at first. Bigger pieces. Ahhhh.
WHOA!
The cam flexed. Did I imagine it? No, it moved. It expanded. Expando! Not my favorite thing in the world. I hammered on the flake now that I could see beyond it hanging from the last small cam. It rung. It rung like a Japanese Funeral bell; deep and resonate. Foreboding in my mind. I looked around more. There was another crack on the left side of the flake. Was this thing actually attached by more than just the top of it?! There was no way to know for sure.
Another cam placed. I leaned way out and stood up higher in the ladders. Jammed a semi blind #2 and psyched myself up to get on it, hoping the flake didn't bend out away from the wall taking us with it. There was nothing more to be done. It was the only placement. If the flake was going, it would kill us both. There would be no two ways about it. My voice got louder. "YEAH, this is the way we do this. FUCK YEAH!" My volume belying my fear based upon an unknown.
And when nothing happened? Relief. It looked like C1 above me now that I could see the crack of the flake and get a better sense that it was attached by at least 6 or more feet of rock at the top. Movement was quicker now. Death, or what I thought may have been potential for it, was now in the rear view mirror. Though above another loose block was found. I avoided by going slightly left with some cams and two bolts. It all seemed to take forever.
At the anchor I felt we might have a chance now.