I packed the gear the night before, Dara checked the weather, and I was even somewhat awake at 6 am. It seemed like sneaking out on a Wednesday morning to drive to Lake Tahoe was shaping up to be an excellent idea. I had taken the day off from work to bring Dara (my climbing partner) on his first multi-pitch adventure. Our plan of attack was to leave the San Francisco Bay Area by 7 am, get to Lover’s Leap campground by 10:30 am, and hike to the base of Corrugation Corner (5.7, 3 pitches, 500 feet) before 11:30 am. When we hit Placerville and started cruising up the hill the wind started to pick up, but we were confident that there wouldn’t be much change on the last 30 miles of the drive.
Our trip was a few weeks coming. Dara had consistently been climbing low 5.10 sport and top-roped routes outdoor, and with his trad experience a few notches below that he was definitely progressing steadily. After various day trips around the Bay Area, Dara had a good foundation in placing gear, building anchors, and leading multiple single pitch routes in a day. After a fair bit of research for local areas (My multi-pitch experience was all in or around Boulder, CO) we decided that Lover’s Leap would be a great area to visit for our first multi-pitch route as climbing partners.
After looking at the various routes that blanket the walls of Lover’s Leap, we decided that Corrugation Corner would be a great route for both of us. It would give me a chance to lead some fun yet exposed climbing while still staying at 5.7 so Dara would feel comfortable on his first trip above one rope length. So it was settled; I took a Wednesday off work so there’d be no crowds and we started planning.
Once we hit the town of Kyburz, about 8 miles from Lover’s Leap campground, I knew it wasn’t going to get any warmer. Pulling into the parking lot and seeing the trees sway, Dara looked a little uneasy but I was really pumped. Unfortunately I didn’t think about our climbing backgrounds. I had learned multi-pitch climbing in Boulder where the weather tends to be a little unpredictable; cold spells were common in the winter, while the summer brought near-daily thunderstorms. Dara had started climbing a few months before indoors, with the majority of his outdoor experience happening in the middle of the California summer. If I had been a rational climbing partner then, we wouldn’t have even left the car, but I was excited and ignored Dara’s apprehensiveness.
After gearing up and heading down the main trail, we hit the climbers path on the right and hiked to the bottom of the Lower Buttress. Looking up, Corrugation Corner was obviously in the shade, but the sun seemed like it would eventually peek around the west side of the wall and brighten things up, so we started hiking up to access the base of the first pitch.
Climbing the steady ascent to the top of the Lower Buttress warmed me up. The hike had started moving the blood around a bit after the long car ride and we were coming into view of the base of the climb. There was a smattering of snow in shadowed corners and ledges so we carefully made our way out to the ledge and dropped our packs. This is when Dara began to show that experience doesn’t necessarily mean knowledge.
After warming up on the hike I wanted to go before I started to cool down. A 5.7 route is well within both of our experience levels and I was confident Dara could handle the entire climb easily. As I double checked that all the cams and gear were racked properly, Dara said he wanted to wait for a bit to see if the sun came out. Even though I really wanted to start up the wall, I agreed and we settled into a small cave to relax and eat something.
The longer we stayed in that little alcove the more our body heat got sucked right into the cold rock we were sitting on, and things started to feel chillier, but I thought to myself that we had driven so far to get there that we should suck it up and try the route. When we left the car it was 37 degrees in the shade, and with the wind it definitely felt every bit of that. So the weather forecast might have been correct if we were standing in the sunny trees across the valley, but it was about 20+ degrees off of our current predicament. After about an hour of watching the sun try to force light through the trees across the road, we decided that given the conditions, it could be potentially dangerous if we continued.
I was bummed. We had driven all morning, I took a day off work, and we had a full drive to get back to where we started. While standing there, looking up at the wall, all I wanted to do was climb. So with my somber mood in tow, Dara and I hiked off the ledge in search of some sun.
Coming around the corner and into the gully that hold’s John’s Buttress, Dara and I hit the warmth. Sitting next to the crack climbs snaking up the face, we recovered from the now blocked wind and started exploring the area. We weren’t necessarily looking for another route, but it was still early and we wanted to become familiar with the layout of the area so as to be prepared for a return trip.
We started trudging up the hill on the west side of John’s Buttress and ended up walking until we hit a slab wall on the left that held some promising vertical cracks. With the disappointment of Corrugation Corner left back in the shade, I led a really sketchy trad climb that took no gear for the last 30 feet, hinting at a possible ground fall if I came off. Probably not the smartest climb I’ve done but considering the effort it took to get there, we thought it could be a first ascent.
So in the end, we drove hundreds of miles, endured the unexpected cold, and hiked through dense brush to climb one single pitch trad route. That fact wore on me on the hike down, especially since when we looked up from below the Lower Buttress Corrugation Corner was bathed in a calm, golden sunlight. I slowly packed up my gear at the car, trying not to look up at the climb that was seemingly laughing at me, “I’m just a 5.7, man.”
BUT. Dara and I made absolutely the right decision. It doesn’t matter if the route is at your backyard crag or on Everest, climbing is a potentially dangerous sport wherever you practice it. Bad decisions mean injuries, even on a climb rated 5.7. So even though Dara didn’t get to try his first multi-pitch route, we both felt that we learned much more NOT climbing that day. I have no doubt that Dara easily could’ve handled that climb, but it was much more prudent to retreat, nurse our egos, and start planning the next trip injury free.
