Now that I am on the ground, and everything is moving faster and the roar of the river no longer fills my head, I want to be back there. I want to trade the well dressed people and their smiling faces for the worried looks of my partners on lead as they ponder the next move. I want to swap the comfort of my bed for the streaking pegmatite walls that we traced up and down the canyon for hours while belaying. Yet in the throws of suffering I wanted comfort and safety. You wish for the opposite. You want the warm dinners and the ground, to be out of your harness and for your cuticles to heal.


This was my last semester in school, and Matt had graduated a semester early. Mike had finished his crap with the Marines and we needed something to capstone it all. I needed something to drive me in my hell during finals. What better thing to do than to celebrate by doing a wall. Mike and I have been doing a lot of aid climbing trying to prepare for the Valley. We went to Zion and did Lunar Ecstasy and some other smaller aid routes. Matt had only lead C1 and never done a wall before. His mathematical Brain seems to figure it all out though, and he has the spirit and drive to give anything a go.
What wall to do? We wanted something big and memorable. What about the Black? I had done one other route previous to this one and it was Midsummer night's Dream, Mike had never been, Matt had done one route and bailed off another one because of a storm. For some reason we all felt confident in ourselves to do the Hallucinogen Wall. Secretly I think we all thought that if we couldn't do it another member of our party could. Two days before we were supposed to leave found Matt and I in Unaweep and I am filling him in on the finer points of aiding and telling him to practice hooking as much as he can. Saturday, the day before we leave Matt and I are in a granite drainage in the Monument teaching ourselves how to head, trying to gain some confidence. Sunday Matt and I finish work at three and we get into Mike's Car and Drive as fast as we can stopping only at the ranger station to sign in before we start the descent.
Moral is High in the Beginning:
Friends Help Friends tuck socks for Tick Prevention:
Three Haul Bags: One Newish and small, one homemade hand-me-down, one large old fish bag that we spent hours nursing back to shape, One old double A5 ledge and a single fish ledge that smelt the ball sweat. We threw ourselves down the Cruise Gully trying to miss Poison Ivy everywhere.
WE started down around 6:30

The First Rap:
We make it to the base as it start to get dark. We dump out the haul bags and Matt gets some gear and Rope Solo's the first pitch while Mike and I Fill and empty haul bag full of Bottles and head to the river. The river is raging, its so loud we scream at each other and are reduced to pointing. Down the talus you look straight at the river and its raging profile crashes higher than you are tall. In an eddy that may as well been a tide we filled water bottles. I stood on a small rocks, bare feet freezing as the water level sucked down six or more inches and shot up again. After the water was filled we took turns carrying the heaviest load on a talus field to the base where Matt was starting to rap down. In a small beaten out area we laid two pads down and tried to sleep.
5AM I set up the first haul and we look up dreading the next five pitches of low angle crap.
Second pitch is more crap:
It takes two to haul, one person to jug by the bags to free them on every edge that it gets caught on. It is so sunny we fear we didn't bring enough water.
Pitch 3
Pitch 4
Hauling
Matt Cleaning Pitch 5
Pitch 6 was the first business pitch. I clipped some crap and started hooking my way up through some bulges and left.
(last seen picture of hook before it was sucked into the abyss.)
Once you reach a roof and traverse left a bit you find a rats nest of webbing as a pendulum point.
Penduluming:
And darkness comes
Mike Chases the Sun
Matt Cleans the Pendy
Mike and I set up the Bivy on Fantasy Island.
While Matt leads the C2 7th pitch.
A huge flake sits on the ledge mysteriously solid. A bivy for two my ass. We set up our portaledges and are asleep by 10.
In the morning I lead a C2+ pitch that forces some scary free climbing and a line of shitty heads.
I asked Matt if he wanted the next A3- on Pitch 9 and he looked at me for a few seconds and said yes. Some Balls.
Mat starts up clipping too many bad heads and hooks right off the belay for comfort.
Matt Finishes and there are some high clouds that give us a break from the sun.
Mike Arrives at the belay and says he wants to do the Crux hooking pitch. His words and his face say two different things:
Mike styles the 15 foot traverse on hooks off the belay to the first bolt.
He then makes his way up and right a good 20 feet on hooks to another bolt.
He gets to the large peg streak and clips one last bolt and looks at the topo.He sees no ledge with bolts and cactus on his left but sees some fixed gear to his right. He starts going right and then up. He keeps looking down and he moves quickly and farther away from anything attached to the rope. He yells that there is a dead head and Matt and I are thinking he is off route. We send the hammer up and he beats on a head but the peg is to shitty and our skills are too poor to get anything to stick. He hooks past it and cinches a rivet. He spots the belay station 20 feet down and left. He lowers and Pendies over. When I jug up the haul line I try to clean as much as I can and we pull the rope leaving some gear. The next pitch traverses back right so we were able to get most of our gear.

Pitch 11 is mine and I leave the belay with some free climbing to a bolt and some hooking. Some more A3 and I am on a micro edge with a large ramp up and right of me. Sweating I get in the second step up my aiders and lean way right trying to forget it all below and get this captain hook to stick. Thankfully the Captain hook is bomber and I make my way up and do the cactus traverse in the fading light.
The supposed on person Bivy at the Happy Trails ledge is a laugh. We set up our ledges and stare up at the looming head wall.
In the morning its overcast
No one wants to lead the next A3 pitch. I had already done two A3 pitches and some harder Clean pitches. Mike was still unwired from his scare fest on the hooking pitch. I told Matt if he really wasn't up to it that I would do it. Matt Carried his weight and more as he racked up and took off from the ledge.
Matt Worked his way up crap gear and hooks to a seam and said there was three blown heads in a row and the next piece was way out of reach. We sent the hammer and heads up but he couldn't remove the heads or place a new one.
He tried throwing his hook on the end of an aider at the next piece with no success. He tried hooking on the dead heads but they just pulled. I asked if I could cannibalize his Ledge. I dug it out and cut the SHock cord and made a make shift stick clip and tagged it up to him. Matt went on to finish the pitch as the wind started to rage and the clouds got thicker.
He screamed into the wind that he was off and Mike and I both were impressed at his performance.
I took off on pitch 13 as fast as I could fearing the worst in the weather.
Mike Rocked the 14th pitch and found the most rotten rock yet. Matt was still recouping from his lead.
Rain started to spit a bit but the angle of the wall decreased. after the last roof
Matt Jugged up and started leading the rotten 15th pitch as I hauled. So very Rotten.
I jugged up to meet with Matt inside a chimney
We pulled some line up as the top was in view and the weather was getting worse. Matt and Mike battled with the pigs as I did some scary climbing to the top Hoping to not brain my partners with the huge loose blocks everywhere.
It took us until 10:30 to get the pigs hauled to the top.
Mike was the last to arrive.
Victory.
WE stood on top and went to the overlook yelling down at the route. Our sh#t in the car we headed back to Grand Junction and slept a lot. The next day we sorted gear, drank beer, and made almost serious jokes about our next wall in the Black. We talk about how you understand wall climbing or you don't. You tell someone or they find out you climbed a wall you can tell by their reply if they get it. If the mention the sweat and the work first and the sore muscles then they know. Everything seems doable compared to wall climbing.
All in all I wonder how much of our success was luck. The weather held, the pieces held. Its a gamble but its worth every f*#king foot of it.

-Jesse