Lover's Leap - June 2018
The plan was to hit three Northern California climbing spots in a weekend of climbing: the grade-changing sand landings of the Lost Rocks boulders; the rumbling waves crashing under your belay spot at High Bluffs; and the sandstone wave that laps back the ocean called Promontory.
Friday afternoon, we realize that with a front blowing through in the next 12 hours, the beach would bear the brunt and be rained out.
Also, our crew member Sam really wanted to go to the REI garage sale on Saturday morning.
What to do?
With all of Oregon forecast for rain - I find out later that the Smith Rock gamble, heading into the high desert, would NOT have paid off as the rock ended up slick there too - we looked to our southern neighbor, California. Not to be confused with the iconic climbing wall on Lake Tahoe, we headed to Lover's Leap west of Mt. Shasta. Despite the snow-capped peaks nearby, this area is one of the hottest and driest in the State of Jefferson.
My first visit to Lover's Leap last August was definitely hot, but it's easy to stay cool at this crag with a 360 degree plug of limestone providing shaded (or sunny) spots throughout the day. The crag also sits at 5,000 feet, high enough to shave off a few degrees on the thermometer.
Saturday morning, the cool front dropped some June snow off at the highest peaks. A climber will always take the most comfortable free option available, so we planned on crashing at a friend's hosue instead of struggling in 31 degree overnight temperatures. Even still we were surprised later in the day when hail plinked off our aluminum gear.
We stuck to short-sleeves for the 1-hour approach hike and for our climbs, but otherwise long sleeves were necessary all weekend. Perfect climbing temps!
Our 2pm "it's an alpine start somewhere!" arrival at the crag still gave us plenty of time to get sendy. 20 minutes into the hike, we hit our first climbs at Sesame Street wall, a 50' mostly-vertical wall with a 5.7 and 5.8 route. These climbs are a great warm-up, but there's plenty more warming to do as you descend 350 feet and back up across a saddle before reaching the main crags.
What you can't really warm-up is your skin toughness: each of my three climbing partners cussed the rock as the sharp limestone bit into their hands immediately. Our most novice climber wasn't able to finish her first route due to the pain inflicted by the rock. Though you'll find the windward sides of the crag are a little less sharp, bring tape and ClimbOn if your skin is soft. Personally, I cherish my cuts and scrapes after a weekend of outdoor climbing, so masochists will enjoy this rock.
For the rest of Saturday, we ended up at Dr. Lu Wall. The first route we jumped on was Logan's Run - and now we must pause for a sidebar about guide books.
There are two printed guidebooks for the area: Mt. Shasta Area Rock Climbing and Bigfoot Country Climbs. I have neither.
I relied on the anarchical crowdsourcing of the internet, using Mountain Project's offline app and TheCrag.com's PDF quick-guides. If you showed up at Logan's Run with TheCrag.com's guide, the .10c rating might make you wonder what move on this 75' route will give you problems. But switch over to Mountain Project and you'll find a very helpful route description that explains how the direct line goes at .10c over a large bulge, but going left or right at specific bolts will have you pulling 5.9 moves.
You'll find these discrepancies a few different times between the two guides. For example, the route Squirrel Nose is rated 5.9 in the printed guidebook, but bumps up to .10b on TheCrag.com. You might also find extra routes listed in one guide but not the other.
The route beta from MP proved to be true. The route starts on a slabby face, working tiny sharp scoops as crimps. Around the 4th bolt, you reach a great resting ledge, before making the decision to move over a short but sharp and crimpy bulge for the .10c send, or veering far right to skip the roof and follow a slanting crack back towards the anchors. This wall is a good option for 10a and below climbers, with several other 5.8 and 5.9 climbs in the area.
That was it for the first day. Clouds started moving in, and I was shivering as I cleaned the route. Unlike my first trip, our long walk back didn't include any run-ins with baby rattlesnakes, nor did we hear the chuff of a cougar in the nearby cliffs.
About an hour east of Lover's Leap are the small towns of Weed and Shasta City. Both have small restaurants for pre- or post-climb fueling and places to stay if you're not camping out at the crag. Camping can be done at the dirt cul-de-sac where the approach trail begins, or at various places along the trail. The best site would be about 30-45 minutes into the approach hike, as you make the final saddle ascent and come across a flat clearing sheltered by trees and rocks. (Note that there is no water in the area, so you'll need to pack it all in.)
After a late breakfast in Weed the next morning, we headed back to the crag. A couple of cars in the parking area represented the largest crowd I've seen so far at Lover's Leap. In my two trips I haven't come across a party larger than four people.
We headed straight for 45 Wall, named presumably for the "45" spraypainted at the base of the route of the same name. A couple from San Francisco, Dani and Nick, doing the #vanlife thing up to Squamish over the summer, were climbing with our friend Alex. He had just moved to the area from Chico, had no climbing partners but a full sport and trad rack, and we swapped numbers for future plans to climb the piece de resistance of the area, Castle Crags.
We jumped on the aforementioned Squirrel Nose to start. I love getting the first lead of the day, but this was not it. A quick scramble using a huge incut pocket of shimmering quartz crystals brings you to the meat of the climb: a big crack in a dihedral, requiring some basic lay-backing and smearing, intermixed with stems and mantles. I'm a mediocre smearer and a decent mantler, but I realized how weak my crack and stem game was when I arrived at a small rest cave for a breather, but couldn't muster the commitment for the crux section. I bailed and gave the route up to Vinny, who cut his teeth climbing in the endless cracks of Utah. His beta was on-point as he sailed up the route with arms locked, heels dropped, methodically moving one foot, one arm, then the other foot, the other arm.
With a leader you can set up a directional quickdraw on one of the higher bolts to top-rope the route. Otherwise, this climb shares anchors with the .11c to the right and creates lots of swing potential for falls or hangs.
The day ended with two classics at the crag, the 5.9 "Doesn't Suck" and .10a "Finger Bucket." This was my redpoint send of "Finger Bucket" after an attempted onsight last year, but I swear I still don't know where the finger bucket actually is.
"Doesn't Suck" also has a fitting name - it's fun, it's not overly challenging, nor pulse-pounding, but it doesn't suck. At the last bolt before your anchors, the rock type changes dramatically to a darker, even sharper rock with small protrusions that the locals call "mammoth boogers." The sudden change in color and texture while transitioning to the final face, near the top of one of the tallest routes, can mess with your head. Samson, on his first time climbing a route this tall, tried to get lowered down when he reached the final push. Thankfully for Sam, Vinny and I are assholes and we made him finish the route - which he did with strength and confidence that we cheered on from 70' below.
The cold was creeping back in, and though I had the swagger to jump on another route, we didn't have the light. We headed back to the car, stopping frequently to turn around and admire the gorgeous sunset framing the crag.
Lover's Leap is one of those diamond-in-the-rough crags: in the middle of nowhere, a hefty approach, unforgiving rock, a wide range of climbs. If you're in the Shasta area, I'd call it a must-do for sport climbers.
Friday afternoon, we realize that with a front blowing through in the next 12 hours, the beach would bear the brunt and be rained out.
Also, our crew member Sam really wanted to go to the REI garage sale on Saturday morning.
What to do?
With all of Oregon forecast for rain - I find out later that the Smith Rock gamble, heading into the high desert, would NOT have paid off as the rock ended up slick there too - we looked to our southern neighbor, California. Not to be confused with the iconic climbing wall on Lake Tahoe, we headed to Lover's Leap west of Mt. Shasta. Despite the snow-capped peaks nearby, this area is one of the hottest and driest in the State of Jefferson.
My first visit to Lover's Leap last August was definitely hot, but it's easy to stay cool at this crag with a 360 degree plug of limestone providing shaded (or sunny) spots throughout the day. The crag also sits at 5,000 feet, high enough to shave off a few degrees on the thermometer.
Saturday morning, the cool front dropped some June snow off at the highest peaks. A climber will always take the most comfortable free option available, so we planned on crashing at a friend's hosue instead of struggling in 31 degree overnight temperatures. Even still we were surprised later in the day when hail plinked off our aluminum gear.
We stuck to short-sleeves for the 1-hour approach hike and for our climbs, but otherwise long sleeves were necessary all weekend. Perfect climbing temps!
Our 2pm "it's an alpine start somewhere!" arrival at the crag still gave us plenty of time to get sendy. 20 minutes into the hike, we hit our first climbs at Sesame Street wall, a 50' mostly-vertical wall with a 5.7 and 5.8 route. These climbs are a great warm-up, but there's plenty more warming to do as you descend 350 feet and back up across a saddle before reaching the main crags.
What you can't really warm-up is your skin toughness: each of my three climbing partners cussed the rock as the sharp limestone bit into their hands immediately. Our most novice climber wasn't able to finish her first route due to the pain inflicted by the rock. Though you'll find the windward sides of the crag are a little less sharp, bring tape and ClimbOn if your skin is soft. Personally, I cherish my cuts and scrapes after a weekend of outdoor climbing, so masochists will enjoy this rock.
For the rest of Saturday, we ended up at Dr. Lu Wall. The first route we jumped on was Logan's Run - and now we must pause for a sidebar about guide books.
There are two printed guidebooks for the area: Mt. Shasta Area Rock Climbing and Bigfoot Country Climbs. I have neither.
I relied on the anarchical crowdsourcing of the internet, using Mountain Project's offline app and TheCrag.com's PDF quick-guides. If you showed up at Logan's Run with TheCrag.com's guide, the .10c rating might make you wonder what move on this 75' route will give you problems. But switch over to Mountain Project and you'll find a very helpful route description that explains how the direct line goes at .10c over a large bulge, but going left or right at specific bolts will have you pulling 5.9 moves.
You'll find these discrepancies a few different times between the two guides. For example, the route Squirrel Nose is rated 5.9 in the printed guidebook, but bumps up to .10b on TheCrag.com. You might also find extra routes listed in one guide but not the other.
The route beta from MP proved to be true. The route starts on a slabby face, working tiny sharp scoops as crimps. Around the 4th bolt, you reach a great resting ledge, before making the decision to move over a short but sharp and crimpy bulge for the .10c send, or veering far right to skip the roof and follow a slanting crack back towards the anchors. This wall is a good option for 10a and below climbers, with several other 5.8 and 5.9 climbs in the area.
That was it for the first day. Clouds started moving in, and I was shivering as I cleaned the route. Unlike my first trip, our long walk back didn't include any run-ins with baby rattlesnakes, nor did we hear the chuff of a cougar in the nearby cliffs.
About an hour east of Lover's Leap are the small towns of Weed and Shasta City. Both have small restaurants for pre- or post-climb fueling and places to stay if you're not camping out at the crag. Camping can be done at the dirt cul-de-sac where the approach trail begins, or at various places along the trail. The best site would be about 30-45 minutes into the approach hike, as you make the final saddle ascent and come across a flat clearing sheltered by trees and rocks. (Note that there is no water in the area, so you'll need to pack it all in.)
After a late breakfast in Weed the next morning, we headed back to the crag. A couple of cars in the parking area represented the largest crowd I've seen so far at Lover's Leap. In my two trips I haven't come across a party larger than four people.
We headed straight for 45 Wall, named presumably for the "45" spraypainted at the base of the route of the same name. A couple from San Francisco, Dani and Nick, doing the #vanlife thing up to Squamish over the summer, were climbing with our friend Alex. He had just moved to the area from Chico, had no climbing partners but a full sport and trad rack, and we swapped numbers for future plans to climb the piece de resistance of the area, Castle Crags.
We jumped on the aforementioned Squirrel Nose to start. I love getting the first lead of the day, but this was not it. A quick scramble using a huge incut pocket of shimmering quartz crystals brings you to the meat of the climb: a big crack in a dihedral, requiring some basic lay-backing and smearing, intermixed with stems and mantles. I'm a mediocre smearer and a decent mantler, but I realized how weak my crack and stem game was when I arrived at a small rest cave for a breather, but couldn't muster the commitment for the crux section. I bailed and gave the route up to Vinny, who cut his teeth climbing in the endless cracks of Utah. His beta was on-point as he sailed up the route with arms locked, heels dropped, methodically moving one foot, one arm, then the other foot, the other arm.
With a leader you can set up a directional quickdraw on one of the higher bolts to top-rope the route. Otherwise, this climb shares anchors with the .11c to the right and creates lots of swing potential for falls or hangs.
The day ended with two classics at the crag, the 5.9 "Doesn't Suck" and .10a "Finger Bucket." This was my redpoint send of "Finger Bucket" after an attempted onsight last year, but I swear I still don't know where the finger bucket actually is.
"Doesn't Suck" also has a fitting name - it's fun, it's not overly challenging, nor pulse-pounding, but it doesn't suck. At the last bolt before your anchors, the rock type changes dramatically to a darker, even sharper rock with small protrusions that the locals call "mammoth boogers." The sudden change in color and texture while transitioning to the final face, near the top of one of the tallest routes, can mess with your head. Samson, on his first time climbing a route this tall, tried to get lowered down when he reached the final push. Thankfully for Sam, Vinny and I are assholes and we made him finish the route - which he did with strength and confidence that we cheered on from 70' below.
The cold was creeping back in, and though I had the swagger to jump on another route, we didn't have the light. We headed back to the car, stopping frequently to turn around and admire the gorgeous sunset framing the crag.
Lover's Leap is one of those diamond-in-the-rough crags: in the middle of nowhere, a hefty approach, unforgiving rock, a wide range of climbs. If you're in the Shasta area, I'd call it a must-do for sport climbers.
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