El Potrero Chico
Climbing in El Potrero Chico was unlike anything I've ever experienced. I'd never climbed on limestone and some routes were longer than any I'd ever been on. And the setting and atmosphere were as important in shaping the trip as anything else.

Things started a little rocky. Agnes was seeing a physical therapist to deal with a rotator cuff injury and might not even be able to climb. The therapist didn't recommend it, at least. I seemed to have caught a cold and started the trip feeling pretty crummy. At least there were no major travel hiccups.

Travel day. We were up early to meet at Agnes's house, where Kimmy would drive us to the airport. Some of us were up earlier than others - Agnes missed her alarm and was running around frantically when Greg and I showed up. We somehow managed to cram all of our belongings, plus the five of us, into Kimmy's Matrix. We knew space was constrained in advance and limited our bags. Mine were ready to burst and I hoped the TSA didn't decide to hand inspect them - they'd likely never close it again.

The flight out was uneventful. We changed planes in Dallas and made it to Monterrey with all of our luggage. We booked Homero's Cabana, and arranged to be picked up at the airport by Ariel, the owner and caretaker. He and his wife, Chely, met us at the airport and we exchanged some mixed Spanish/English conversation before heading to their truck. For some reason they weren't expecting four of us. Between the back and our laps, all of our luggage barely made it. It was warm, and I made the mistake of trying to open my window. It was malfunctioning and stuck down. I guess I should have suspected it given the age and general condition of the truck. The windshield, for example, was a spiderweb of cracks and would certainly not be allowed on the road in the US.

On the drive we found out there had been a mixup with our booking. We were supposed to stay in a small house at Homero's the first night as someone would be in the cabana. In the morning, Ariel would move us and our things over (Homero's is outside of the park, but the cabana is inside, about a mile away). The current cabana resident was actually had a few days left. Ariel assured us he was a good boy from Wyoming, and wanted to know if we'd prefer to share the place a few nights or stay in the casita longer. We took a chance on the current tenant to save the need to settle in twice.

We had planned to stop at a market on the way in since we'd have no transportation for the week. Given how full the truck was I had no idea where we'd put things, but we stopped anyway. What a culture shock. We had no list, but wanted breakfast and lunch items, plus at least a few dinners. We found cereal, but the milk was warm. The bananas were the worst I'd ever seen - I managed to find a single bunch that wasn't mostly black or comprised of burst open bananas. There was also a large, ragged looking dog that kept wandering in and scaring Agnes. We eventually assembled our purchases (deciding to get milk elsewhere) and ended up with and exchange rate of 10 pesos to a dollar. This seemed to be the standard there, and basically meant a 10+% bonus for them.

Ariel's son Hervey was there and we were able to put our groceries in his truck. Our next stop was a beverage shop to pick up some local cerveza for the week. There were no refrigerated cases - just large coolers filled with beer and ice. We grabbed some Tecate cans and one caguama of Carta Blanca each (excluding Agnes - she only drinks tequila).

The drive to the cabana was amazing. 2000+ foot limestone cliffs towering on either side of us. There is a road for part of the park, but it gets rocky after a point where flooding swept it away. Around this point is where Nomberto and Marco set up their "entrance fee" racket. These two set up and live in a trailer along the road with a gate, and operate their own toll booth. Everything I've read indicates they have no legal backing to request it, but do anyway. They pour oil over paths in the rocks and vegetation that would go around it, and it looks like many climbers just give up and pay the 10 pesos / one dollar.

By this point we could see the cabana, up the hillside near some 300 foot spires. Stellar location. Ariel told us it was "rustica," but it looked incredible on the approach. More culture shock, particularly for Agnes (no refrigerator!?). I wasn't sure what to expect, but figured there would be something, since we had a lot of groceries that needed it. There were two coolers, but the current tenant, Scott, was using them. We put ours in for the moment, but Ariel said he'd be back later with another cooler and ice. Scott was out at the time.

The place was one large room, with a loft for two additional beds. Ariel explained that we'd need to turn on the propane out back to cook, and showed us the master switch - built into the stove - for the cabana's power. There was a dial on the wall to track voltage, as it ran off batteries charged by a solar panel on the roof. The bathroom was closet sized. The door hit the toilet, then you could squirm in or out around it. The inside was all tiled, and the room itself was the shower. I took a shower that night, but there was only enough water pressure for water to drizzle straight down from the shower head.

Heat was provided by the fireplace. We used it that first night - Ariel stoked it with some diesel - but didn't bother subsequent nights. It didn't put out that much heat, and just made the place smokey and horrible. We cooked some burgers that night, and Ariel and Chely joined us. Chely handmade some delicious tortillas to fill with refried beans. We ate and chatted, but Agnes was a little out of it. She sat by the fire most of the night, prodding the fire with a metal pole. She'd apparently expected bedrooms and television. She was still poking at the fire long after it was dead.

That night was very cold. I was glad to have a wool cap to sleep in.

Saturday

We were in no hurry the first day. I was up early and, after I could stay in bed no longer, headed outside. It was gorgeous. Much warmer than inside, and the view of our surroundings in the clear blue sunny sky was stunning. I wandered around the property hacking, trying to be far enough away to not bother anyone (though they heard me anyway). I gathered up firewood, just in case. We had a nice filling breakfast, then followed Scott to the Mota Wall. He had no partner and we were an odd number, factoring in Agnes's injury, so it worked out well.

We explored the wall, picking off single pitch routes and getting used to the stone and ratings. My first climb was Caguama Queen (5.9), while Kurt and Scott hit I Believe I Can Fly (5.9). The rock could be very sharp, and was populated with interesting features. We had a full day of climbing - mostly in the 5.9/5.10 range. I did toprope a 5.11, the first pitch of Two Pumped Chump. Scott put that one up and it was a blast. There were some tough spots, with lots of good rests and some fun, big moves. Agnes even got to climb that day, she just made sure she kept off of her left shoulder as much as possible.

We wanted to capitalize on Scott's experience as much as possible, so we walked towards town for dinner with him that night. As we passed Nomberto, we explained that we were staying in the cabana that week and wouldn't be paying. He seemed cheery enough and ok with that. On the way to dinner Scott pointed out the approach to the spires and the Cat Wall, our plan for Sunday's climbing, as well as some other recommendations. He gave us tips on dinner places and we ate at La Posada that night. Most of us picked the special - a chicken and rice combo that came with salad. Agnes is more finicky about her food but we managed to find some burritos on the menu she could handle after a couple of customizations. The food was delicious and filling. Agnes ended up with two burritos, each longer than her forearm.

After dinner we walked the mile back home to shower and relax. Ariel had been there earlier in the day and sorted out the water pressure problem, so the shower was actually pretty good. You just need to remember to take the toilet paper out first.

Sunday

Sunday was our day to ease into some multipitch climbing. Our plan was to head up the spires near the cabana in the morning, then come back for lunch. It was only a short distance, though the hike up was steep and loose. We planned to take Crack Test Dummies (5.9) up the North side of the Grande Spire. The first pitch was easy. Greg and I went up first, and Agnes and Kurt chased us. The second pitch was trickier and felt a little more exposed. That lead to a large, sloping ledge. Greg and I hung out there looking at the top. There were some rusty old pitons with rings leading to the top, but my book didn't say if there was a decent anchor up there. I saw one bolt with a chain. While Agnes was on the way up, I decided to explore above. The climbing was easy, which was good since I didn't really trust the old hardware. I stood on the top, then climbed back down to an anchor on the South side. From then everyone else took turns checking out the summit, then down-climbing with a belay. I rappeled from the single chain, cleaning as I went the short distance. One double rope rappel made it back to the ground, though it wasn't an easy trip. The rope tangled behind a large flake, and then I had to unravel it from a palm tree. I straddled it with my legs as I backed the rope out, trying to not damage the fronds.

After a real lunch at the cabana, we headed to the Cat Wall section of the Virgin Wall for a few single pitch climbs. The place was a big party. There were cars everywhere, many blasting mariachi music. Little children were chasing each other. Near the pavillion is a wall with grills built into it, and all were occupied for family picnics. It was a very friendly atmosphere. We slipped by the edge of the fence and scrambled up until we hit the stairs. We played on a pair of fun routes - Cat's Meow (5.8) and Scaredy Cat (5.8+). I started on the latter route and thought it was the more fun of the two. Except that Greg almost dropped me. Once I made it to the top and clipped an anchor, I told Greg to take. The rope didn't go taught, and I looked down to seem him working on unlocking the carabiner on his belay device. I yelled down and stopped that, but was pretty freaked out. Had I not been paying attention, I could have leaned back to fall about 100 feet as he'd no longer have me on belay. I was pretty upset and yelled at him. He was wiped out from two days of climbing and not enough sleep, and was in the mindset for multipitch climbing, where I would be securing myself at the top of a pitch and come off belay. He also hasn't been climbing outside that much, but I think the seriousness is drilled in now and he won't take any potentially dangerous action without being positive of it.

That put a little damper on things. He climbed that route but then was done for the day. The rest of us did both routes and then packed it in.

We did take time to check out the area. It is named the Virgin Wall for a statue of Mary. There are also stairs leading to a nice overlook of the pool complex (which hosts 5000 people on busy weekends) and Hidalgo. Near the top were some guys drinking beer and hollering to some women back at the cars below. They'd been having a shouted conversation for a half hour or so, and were still at it when we left.

We cooked in that night. Rather, Agnes did most of the cooking while the rest of us helped prep. We had some t-bones with rice and veggies. Delicious and very filling.

Kurt and I planned to try Estrellita (5.10b) the next day, and Greg and Agnes would take a day off to explore on foot. At 12 pitches and 1000 feet, this would be the longest climb I've been on. My cold was still lingering and I wondered if it was a bad idea to jump on it after two days of climbing. We packed up our gear and I tried to get as much sleep as possible.

We woke up pretty early, but were still not the first at the wall. A couple from Canada had beaten us and the guy leading was alredy on his way. The girl belaying told us they hadn't had too much experience on multipitch and expected to be slow. We figured that would be alright as that was our only goal for the day. We'd just give them a big head start.

We relaxed, had some snacks and hydrated. We waited until she finished the first pitch and was out of site on her lead before we even started to get ready. I was worried I wouldn't have the stamina, so I planned to take the first pitch. That would mean Kurt would get the harder pitches, including two of the three 5.10s. At the top of the first pitch we decided to link pitches. I did the first two as one. The other group had apparently linked the first three. We had a ways to go before the 5.10s, and I figured Kurt would link two pitches later on as well. At the top of the third pitch we saw some friends from PA. We had a little chat - it was amazing how easy it was to talk from a few hundred feet apart. The fourth pitch started with a traverse, and we saw Ariel's truck coming up the road. He got out to toss some garbage in a bin, and we caught his attention. Chely, Greg and Agnes hopped out for some hellos and photos.

I continued up the ramp on the fourth pitch, thinking of how much it would hurt to slide down its sharp surface. At the top I saw some anchors on the face to my right. It seemed a silly place for them - there was a giant ledge with a big boulder above. I figured there had to be a better spot for anchors there, but didn't want to risk climbing up to find nothing, then needing to awkwardly get back down on the overhanging face. I used the crappy belay to bring Kurt up to the ledge, where he informed me there were two more sets of anchors. Why were there three sets in a 10 foot radius?

No matter. This was the 3rd class section of the climb. We scrambled through the brush attached to an old fixed line. The Canadians were waiting there and said we should pass them. I didn't want them to feel rushed and felt a little bad, but there was no point to not pass now.

The next section was easy. There was a long slabby section that was supposed to be 5.7 followed by 5.8. Kurt pretty much sprinted up this section, skipping clips on the way. We weren't sure how many quickdraws we'd need, but we borrowed a handful from the Canadians, planning to use them first and leave them hanging for them to follow. After most of the rope was gone, Kurt asked how much remained. He said he hadn't reached the first anchor yet and thought we'd need to simulclimb. As he continued, I ended up needing to scramble up maybe 20 feet. He anchored in, and on the way noticed the anchor he had zoomed past. He was at the base of a 5.10b pitch, so I'm glad he didn't try to simulclimb that.

The next pitch went well. I was worried I'd have trouble since I thought the second pitch I led on the spires was spooky, but it went by just fine. The climbing on Estrellita never felt exposed, so that made a difference. Kurt had the next pitch, a somewhat slabby channel/corner. That was probably my favorite pitch. Up next was another 5.10 pitch. The climbing had some hard spots, but was not sustained. There was a wide crack on the left in the corner, but most places had enough face holds to keep things easy. I was chugging along and feeling good. And I kept chugging. After a while I asked Kurt how much rope I had, as the pitch seemed really long. Looking down at him, I noticed an anchor on the inside of the corner about 30 feet below me. The bolts had been on the face and I just hadn't seen it. I felt crappy. We had talked about whether I should link the two if I felt good, but decided against it because he wanted to lead at least one of the hard pitches. I couldn't really climb down to it and there was only one (easier) pitch remaining. I told him the situation and he called me a route hog. I finished up that pitch. As a small consolation, he had the first view from the summit. The last pitch was rated a 5.7 or 5.8, but felt harder than the prior two he had linked together. This one required actual climbing. I'm not sure how those are rated equivalent.

The palm tree summit was neat. We signed the summit register and looked at the collection of offerings. We snapped some photos and had a snack. While not a speed record by a long shot, we took about 3.5 hours to get to the top in 9 long pitches and that felt pretty good to us. We talked to Greg and Agnes via radio and let them know we were heading down.

The descent does not go back the way we came. Rather, you have to rappel a fixed line to get to the opposite side of the cliff, and rappel down the back. I've never used any fixed lines before, and boy did that one look scary. It was sun bleached and stiff. The summit register date indicated it was replaced over a year ago - I wondered if the rope was more recent. Fortunately the rope mostly served as a backup. Ther terrain was steeper than you'd want to scramble over unroped, but wasn't much of a rappel.

From there it was five long rappels on our own rope, directed by arrows spraypainted on the rock. Fortunately our ropes never got caught up. There were no bolts to climb back up on if that happened, and we had no gear to lead back up on. I guess we'd have to wait for the Canadians. Greg and Agnes made it to the canyon while we were descending. They tried to hike up and meet us, but chose to come up the talus field instead of following the base of the wall. It was exhausting so they went back down. They retrieved our packs instead and met us at the road. Our descent, including scrambling down to the road, was about 1.5 hours. I was glad to have brought comfy shoes in my climbing pack - the walk down would have sucked in thin soled climbing shoes.

We headed home to clean up, then back to town to eat. Monday is the only night Tami's cafe is open and serving dinner, so we headed there. Turns out they make only one thing, and that night it was lasagna (not really made, just microwaved from frozen). It was a disappointingly small portion for people who had been hiking and climbing all day, though it came with a salad, bread, and ice cream after. I think it all just made me hungrier. Agnes couldn't eat it because it had cheese. We wandered around, but nothing else was open. She bought a piece of garlic bread (and took mine) to tide her over until she could eat back at the cabana.

We chatted with friends over dinner, then checked out their accomodations at La Posada's casa grande. It certainly looked newer and cleaner. The bathroom was a real bathroom with a door between the toilet and shower! They had two enclosed bedrooms! It was really pretty nice, but I personally would take the cabana again. It was about half the price and I think had a much better location. I wouldn't have thought so the first night, but once I knew what to expect and had gotten used to it, the cabana was pretty cool.

We didn't stay too long since Agnes still needed to eat. In fact, after the mile back to our place, we all needed to eat again... Greg befriended one of the many stray dogs on the walk home and it then followed us the entire way home. We slipped in and closed the gate after us, but were only halfway up the drive before it was padding along next to us again. I was torn - I didn't want to encourage it to hang around, but I felt like I should at least put out some water for it. It stayed the night too. I heard it a few times, and around 4AM heard it growling. I wondered if there were some coyotes out there, and thought he might get attacked. I debated going down to flip on the outside light, but never heard any fighting noises. The dog was gone by morning. While Kurt and I climbed, Greg and Agnes hiked into the canyon. The following are some of their photos. Maybe Greg can talk about their day in the comments.

Rest day for everybody! We hoped to hit the market in Hidalgo and then go for a swim at Homero's. Prior to coming out we discussed possible rest day activities with our contact. She said horseback riding and a hot springs visit could be arranged. We tried for the hot springs, but Ariel told us we'd need to go out in advance to make a reservation. That made no sense, and it would kill two days so that option was scrapped. Instead we headed to the market in the afternoon. We figured we could browse and eat there, hitch a ride back to the cabana with Ariel to drop off ice and groceries, switch to swimwear and ride back to Homero's for some swimming. We could walk back whenever we were done.

The market was a little disappointing. I'm not sure what I expected; I guess I thought it would have a local feel to it. It was mostly a big flea market like you could find in the states. Bootleg movies, CDs, and games. Cheap t-shirts (some with saints, some with wrestlers). There was some interesting food and some game I had no idea how to play. It was bingo-ish, with boards covered randomly with pictures and a caller pulling picture tiles from a hopper. There were lots of electronics from a few decades back, including a giant old CRT television. The best part was the fresh fruits and veggies, more than we'd been able to find in markets. We stocked up after lunch (Agnes had some chicken, while the rest of us had little pizzas with a hot dog topping).

We needed to find Ariel's house for a ride back but didn't quite know where it was. Fortunately everyone seems to know everyone else, so after a while we asked a man for directions to Ariel's place. Ariel and his brother-in-law Miguel were working on a truck when we arrived. We chatted about the market and what there was to do for the rest of the day. Swimming was out - "it's winter man!" The 80+ degree temperatures fooled me. How about horses? Ariel drove us across town to see if we could get some.

Three seemed to be available, and we could have them for three hours. Ariel was our go between, and we thought we agreed on three hours with a guide. We figured we could go in pairs for an hour and a half each, with someone knowledgable to keep us from getting lost. They'd meet us at the cabana in an hour, so Ariel took us there.

Things weren't as sorted as we thought. An hour later we spotted a guy with a horse trying to get our attention from down by Nomberto's gate. He didn't want to pay and Nomberto wasn't letting him through. Agnes and I headed down. This guy spoke no English, and the next few minutes were confusing. There seemed to be only one horse now. Rather than be guided, he assumed we'd just take the horse on our own. I explained we'd be paying less since things changed, and that seemed fine. He did his best to explain how to control the horse. I climbed on and it reared up. I was quickly more worried about getting thrown than lost.

Agnes climbed on behind and we were off. Very slowly. The guide walked the horse back towards the cabana. Once there, we were left to ourselves. The horse immediately started to run. I pulled the reigns to stop it, and it reared up again. I held the saddle tight while Agnes held me. Good lord this animal is huge! Another lesson in Spanish and gestures and I was off much more slowly. The horse was heading right, off the road into bushes and eventually up to a wall. I was hesitant to work the reigns - I might piss it off again. I steered him towards the road and we continued. I didn't need an hour or more of this; my horse riding itch was more or less scratched. I kept thinking of Cristopher Reeves.

I managed a modicum of control and kept it very slow. Sometimes the horse would turn perpendicular to the road; I've no idea why. I'd try to keep it on the least stressful terrain, but it seemed oblivious of its surroundings. I think it would walk off a cliff if I made it. The horse would gradually veer off the road unless I steered it back. If I were a horse I would try to stay on the more comfortable road surface instead of the larger loose rocks or bushes along its side. I suppose I'd fail horse school.

Agnes had issues staying on the horse. Not that she'd fall off, she kept sliding to the side and would have to pull herself up before she was riding sideways.

After a half hour I turned it around. That would put me back at the cabana around an hour, leaving an hour each for Greg and Kurt. Coming my way were two more horses. I was worried mine would spook or try to follow them, so I waited on the side of the road for them to pass. Turned out it was Greg and Kurt, each backseat to a guide. They were able to catch us in about 5 minutes.

They joined us, one one each side with one guide holding my horse's rope. The arrival of additional horses was a surprise, and Greg didn't have time to change into pants. His soft shorts were not optimal for bareback... Our ride continued and I was able to actually look around more. My horse was now held near the guide's (which Kurt was on), and my leg alternated being pinched between the two animals, or behind the horse's butt. Horses just let fly while walking, right?

We made it out to a little waterfall, the source of the water to the cabana and other places in the area. There was cow poop everywhere. That gave us something to think about when we showered and brushed our teeth later on.

The main guide pointed out the peak a commercial plane had crashed into decades ago. He was far easier to understand - the other talked way too fast and seemed surprised that we weren't fluent. He did slow down to ask if he could have the carabiner Kurt clipped his camera on with. Regalo.

We only ended up riding about two hours, but that was sufficient. Aside from being a little sore (especially Greg), Kurt, Agnes, and Greg had wet pants. They were sitting behind the saddles and the horses were washed prior to their arrival.

I'm almost positive we ate in the cabana, but I can't recall what. Afterward we packed our bags for the next day. We wanted to get everyone on a big climb, and Supernova was our goal.

Wednesday

We'd selected Supernova for a few reasons. First, it was big - eight pitches for about 800 feet of climbing. Second, the hardest pitch was the very first one. If Agnes's shoulder held out and Greg made it through, the rest of the climb would be easy. Much better than a crux high up - it would be a shame to have to back off without finishing so far in. Third, the guide showed it topping out on a nice lunch ledge, featuring the "Quiltwood Hotel" bivy!

The First pitch of Supernova is a 5.11. We opted to take the slightly lower rated Gusada Negra (5.10d) to the first anchor. Kurt and Agnes went first, and Greg and I tailed them with a one pitch gap. I'd normally arrive at the anchor as Agnes was leaving, which was good as the belay stances were tiny and uncomfortable.

The climbing went quickly and I did pitches 2-7 two at a time. Agnes even snuck in a lead on her bum shoulder. Aside from the first pitch, getting to the 7th anchor was the only tricky spot (at least that I can recall now). It is an exposed move off the face around an outside corner.

The big ledge wasn't the picnic spot I hoped for. There was a decent area to sit, but most of it was sloped and heavily vegetated. We found the hotel bivy, but it was tiny and not worth a photo. Good thing we wouldn't need to spend a night there. The view was spectacular though. While a shorter climb than Estrellita, it starts higher up and ends up at about the same level. We relaxed, ate, and jotted some messages on papers in the capsule stashed near the top.

Given the small belay stances, we decided to go down in pairs. Double rope rappels would make it faster, but it would be awkward and crowded at each stance. This would be Greg's longest stretch of rappelling and I probably should have coached him more in advance. I've developed a familiarity with Kurt or Agnes and little communication is necessary. For instance, there are times when the rope needs to be tossed. I had Greg holding some rope and, when the time came to let go and Agnes or Kurt would have let it fly, Greg was still holding it firmly. It negated my toss and I was frustrated. I told him he was supposed to have thrown it... as if he should have known.

Of course, there are times when the rope shouldn't be thrown. At the next rappel we were in such a situation. And when I threw my part of the rope, Greg remembered to toss his. I really set myself up for that. I made sure to explain exactly what he needed to do from then on.

The rappels were uneventful, just not comfy. Overall I don't think I'd recommend the climb. The bulk of it was pretty easy and doesn't stick out in my mind. Combine that with the uncomfortable stances and the steep scramble up and down and it wasn't worthwhile.

It was a shorter day but still full. We had dinner at the cabana, T-bones this time. Agnes did most of the cooking and it was wonderful. Most importantly there was a lot.

Thursday

This turned out to be our last day of climbing. We picked an easier climb with an interesting line and nice summit, Dope Ninja (5.10b). It turned into an all day epic. Heck, we had trouble even starting it.

Per the guide, this is the leftmost climb on the Mota Wall. It doesn't really seem like it is still the Mota Wall. We headed back to our first day's climbing location. At the left side is a line of bolts with a plaque marking it I Believe I Can Fly. To its left are more bolts, which should be Cactus Pile. Dope Ninja should be left of this, but there are no more starts. Left of there the wall bulges out to a huge, slabby, vegetated section of rock. Maybe Dope Ninja shares a start with Cactus Pile before branching left. I climbed the first picth of Cactus Pile and nothing branched off. I couldn't see any branches above, either. Kurt and I had a shouted chat. He went back down the trail, passed Nomberto's gate, to the other side of the slab. There was a line of bolts there. I'm not sure how that area is still considered Mota Wall, but it matched the description. Kurt started that as I descended Cactus Pile.

Dope Ninja was a great climb with much better belays. The first pitch was slabby. Pitch two was sustained, but I really enjoyed it. Pitch three was rated harder than two, but had only one hard move early on, then fun climbing. There were some exciting moves at the top as well. Pitch four was awesome. This was the easiest pitch, but most interesting. It starts up an arete and felt pretty exposed with the strong wind trying to blow me from the rock. Then the route traversed. I wasn't sure where the climb went and headed off right at first. No bolts. I backtracked and checked with Kurt (above) before moving left and finding the route. It was thrilling and very well bolted. I think I even skipped a bolt because I was low on long runners. Agnes and I shared the belay for a while as Greg followed up. She was gone before Greg arrived, and it would be a long time before I'd see her again.

Pitch 5 climbs out of an alcove, with the hardest moves early on. I pulled up onto the ledge above and felt something fall as I stood up. I yelled rock, but it was actually the radio I was wearing. It bounced past Greg. Crap. These suckers were fairly new and I hated to lose one. There was a grassy ledge below and Greg spotted the radio on it. It looked easy enough to get to, I wondered how hard it would be to climb back up. I could always ascend the rope if necessary, but that would be tiring. We had plenty of daylight left, easy climbing ahead, and no other plans for the day - I decided to go for it. I had Greg lower me back to the alcove. We apprised Kurt and Agnes of the situation from our remaining radio. There were two bolted anchors in the alcove, so I set up on the one Greg wasn't on. I reviewed the plan with him - he'd have to belay me from the top of the route, a new trick for him. After double and triple checking, he lowered me to the ledge. The radio was fine.

There was another anchor on this ledge, but no bolts back up to the alcove. I assume it is used only as a rappel route. The climbing looked alright, so I picked my way back up. I was enjoying the adventure - for all I know nobody has ever bothered climbing that section. At any rate, it was not heavily climbed. There were no chalk marks to follow, so I was not biased to pick any particular line. The rock was also crumbly. About two thirds of the way up I had my only fall for the trip as the rock I was holding broke off. There went my possible first ascent.

A little break when I rejoined Greg, and then I continued the fifth pitch without incident. I skipped the first anchor and used the one closer to the final pitch. Kurt and Agnes were anchored on the opposite side of the spire and we chatted while Greg headed up. They decided to start the first rappel and Agnes had cast off first to look for the next anchor. I was a little hesitant because Agnes had a track record for being unable to spot brightly dressed climbers on the wall, even with all of us pointing them out. It was almost a week into the trip before she noticed the solar panel at the cabana we'd talked about daily. Anyway, it wouldn't be too long before Greg was up and we could do double rope rappels.

As I belayed Greg, I heard the radio conversation between Kurt and Agnes. She couldn't find the anchor and wasn't sure what to do. There wasn't much rope left. I was worried she'd try to hang out on a single bolt, but she was able to sling a rock as a backup. They spotted an anchor way off to her side, so Kurt went to try for it. And also ended up stuck.

They were both now clipped to the side of the cliff. The plan was for me to use their rope and mine to look for an anchor below, and then have them hitch a ride to join. I found one under a little roof. There wasn't much of a stance there, especially for four of us, but we'd grown to expect that. Eventually all four of were there. There were lots of bolts, so at least securing everyone was easy.

We pulled the ropes to start the next rappel. After pulling a few feet of rope, they stopped. We could see they had worked into a crack near the top and the knot just wouldn't make it through. We tried for quite a while. The only other option was to ascend the almost 200 feet of rope to fix the situation from above. We had no ascenders and would need to rig some. It was doable, but would ascending with them would be long and exhausting. When it was clear the ropes weren't coming, I set up to ascend.

Around then we spotted one of our friends on the road, heading towards the cabana. We shouted a conversation about the situation. There really wasn't anything she could do to help. It was a little disheartening to admit that and send her on her way. They did have radios so could listen in just in case.

I'd had a self-rescue class and this was the test. I'd practied, and even had to ascend once (for a much shorter distance) last year at the Gunks. But it was not second nature to set up. Two loops of accessory cord would be rigged that could slide up the rope, but would grab when weighted. One would be attached to my harness, and the other would have a loop to stand in. You weight one, slide the other up the rope, alternate, and repeat. Repeat a whole lot of times, you don't make huge strides each cycle.

I fiddled with accessory cord and slings for a while, trying to adjust the lengths of the attachments to make the motion as natural as possible. In retrospect, I shouldn't have messed with the lengths so much. I think they had actually been fine, I was just having trouble getting the motion down trying to come out from the roof. I should have just attached to the rope and let it swing to wherever gravity wanted to start. Eventually I was on my way.

Much of the earlier part of the way up was on lower angled rock. It is easier (for me at least) to ascend a free hanging rope. So while I was on rock I switched to rope soloing. I'd climb to good stances, sliding up the friction knots as I went in case I fell. I wasn't solely trusting them, I'd also tie backup knots in the rope below me and clip them to a locking carabiner on my harness just in case. I had two, so I could drop the lower knot and add a new one without ever having to be without a backup. The process was exhausting, and my camelback had hit empty about ten minutes in. I ended up in a large (dirty) chimney and it was kind of fun - though scary - to work up it on this system. It was an exhausting process for me, but I felt energized when Kurt yelled up "I just want to wish you good luck, we're all counting on you!" Greg and I had just watched Airplane! and I couldn't help but smile.

At the top I set up for rappel. Not wanting to take any chance I had moved the ropes from the crack and moved the knot below the lip of the ledge. This would require passing a knot on rappel, but I'd rather do that than have to go up again.

By the time I rejoined the group an hour and a half or so had gone by. I stole some water from Greg. Kurt and Agnes had moved off to a secondary anchor to get a little more comfortable. The ropes pulled just fine. I wanted to get down and decided to head off for the next anchor. Knowing I was tired, I had Greg double check me before rappel. It was dark now, so I put on my headlight too. At just about halfway down, I found an anchor at a decent ledge (at least compared to above). I was worried I would get stranded if I continued, but really wanted to do double rope rappels to cut our descent time. I checked the guidebook and I should just make it to the next. I was all the way to the knots at the end of the rope and was still a little short. I couldn't safely make it to the anchor. Even if I did we would have to be very careful when the last made it. The rope stretches when weighted, and if the last person was careless it would snap back out of reach. I anchored in to a nearby bolt. Not ideal. I did clip a second, but if the first failed I would fall on the second on static material which could be very painful (but hopefully not enough to make that bolt fail).

I radioed up to explain. Kurt would stop at the first anchor and I'd hop on the double rope rappel from there. I turned off the headlight to save battery. It was fully night now. The starry sky was beautiful. I focused my attention there to keep from freaking out. Hanging from a bolt 300 feet or so up and totally dependent on the people out of sight above, I was a little anxious. And there was really no way to get comfortable.

They all made it to the first stop and set up the next rappel. Agnes was heading down first. She followed her way to my headlight and anchored next to me. I asked her to stop ther so I could get on a more secure setup. I also was worried about her finding the next anchor. The next anchor was easy enough to reach, though not a straight line. I just followed the line of bolts in reverse.

Agnes joined me, then Greg and Kurt. Happily the ropes pulled fine again. This should be the last rappel, but we couldn't see yet. We were extra cautious given the increasing exhaustion. We also didn't want to make a mistake while our minds wandered to thoughts of being back on the ground. It was a wonderful feeling when I touched down.

I radioed our friends, then went to gather our packs. I managed a smile and waved to Marcos at the gate and scrambled back up to the start of the climb. It hadn't seemed that far this morning, so many hours ago. We were back to the cabana about 9:30PM, having left probably closer to 8AM than 9AM.

We took turns showering while dinner was prepared. I wasn't very helpful for the latter and was glad Greg, Kurt, and especially Agnes mustered the energy. Dinner was served around 11:30, and the meal was fairly silent. We all had just enough energy to shovel food in before we passed out.

No alarms were set that night.

We were done climbing for the trip, no need to push our luck. Besides, we still wanted to confirm our travel plans for the airport tomorrow. Since it was 2.5 miles to Ariel's, we had a very easy start to the day hoping he'd show up and save us the walk. We had a big breakfast and lunch, no sense wasting the food we bought. We lazed about in the sun and made up games. There was a tree by the door that intremittently dropped fruit. Sometimes on your gut while you basked in the sun on the picnic table underneath. We entertained ourselves by throwing the little cherry sized balls at each other and trying to chop them in the air with a machete. Good times.

It didn't look like Ariel was coming, so we left for his place. While hot in the sun by the cabana, the temperature dropped drastically in the shade on the way to town. The wind picked up and clouds blocked the sun even after we were out of the canyon. None of us were dressed for it. I considered heading back to the cabana since I had on a thin t-shirt, but decided against it. About a mile in we passed other climbers at La Posada in their big puffy jackets.

Ariel was out front when we arrived, working on his truck with Miguel. He was filling the tank in the back to water trees he planted around Hidalgo. We talked about the sudden cold, and he showed us the instruments in his yard he's been tracking wind patterns with for years. He plans to add a vertical access wind turbine to the cabana to provide even more power.

We passed some time chatting. A man walked by with a board balanced on his head and Ariel explained that he was carrying dulces (sweets). He asked about our dinner plans, and said he and Chely would like to come over and make us dinner for our last night. It was very nice of them and easily beat our plan of walking to La Posada. In the meantime Miguel would drive us back while he was out watering the trees. While we waited, he asked if we needed anything from town before we left and Agnes was in the mood for some souvenir sweets.

Dulces? Hop in the truck!

We meandered the streets of Hidalgo, and it gradually dawned on us that we weren't heading to a particular shop - we were trying to find the guy carrying a board on his head! Up and down the streets we went with no luck. We started to feel bad about keeping him from his work, but Ariel wanted to keep searching. We eventually convinced him we'd survive without the sweets, but as a consolation stopped to pick up some beer for dinner instead. As we headed back to his place, Ariel yelled "bendejo!" The dulce man was set up on the side of the road. We all picked up a few snacks... candied yams, nuts, candied pumpkin, coconut. Nothing with chocolate though. Loaded with sweets, Ariel took us to the cabana himself.

Back in our temporary home it was time to start packing. My suitcases were stuffed on the way down and I wasn't looking forward to trying to get everything back in. While we packed three of our PA friends dropped in to check out the cabana. Unlike us, they had gone climbing that day. We chatted a while and had some drinks until Ariel and Chely showed up. We invited our friends to stay for dinner, but they needed to get back as Ann, the fourth in their group, was already back at their place and expecting them for dinner.

Dinner was delicious, burritos on Chely's handmade tortillas. We ate, drank, and talked for a long time. The salsa was spicy and, aside from Agnes (who avoided the salsa and cheese) there were red faces with sniffly noses around the table. Ariel told us about other places we needed to visit in Mexico, and where he'd been in the US. I don't know if I'll ever get to any of them, but I'd love to come pack to El Potrero and the cabana again.

We said our goodbyes and Chely left her cellphone as an alarm for us (it didn't actually go off the next morning). We finished packing. I went out to enjoy the sky one more time. There was still light pollution, Monterrey I suppose, but more stars were visible than I usually see back home. I even saw two shooting stars one of the nights. The view was impressive, the shadowy cliffs stood out against the sky when my eyes adjusted. It reminded me of my dad, he often stands out at night to watch the sky. I wondered if he was out looking at the same stars from 2000 miles away.

Saturday

Though Chely's phone alarm didn't go off, my iPod alarm did. As did Kurt's. And I was already up anyway. It was early, Ariel was supposed to pick us up at 5:30AM. Or was it 6? Either way, it would be a long travel day.

We ate as much of the remaining groceries as we could and were all packed when Ariel showed up. The sun wouldn't be up for a while so we had to haul our bags down to the trunk in the dark. On the way by Nomberto, Ariel tooted his horn to say good morning and giggled.