Classic Climbs

AMC Outdoors, June 2007

Like a lot of New Englanders, I headed West after college to experience the climbing areas I’d grown up reading about: the Tetons, Yosemite, Red Rocks, and Joshua Tree. But while camping and climbing there, I found myself regularly defending my home turf in New Hampshire’s White Mountains to those who scoffed at the notion that good climbing could exist anywhere east of the Rockies. Of course, none of these critics had ever actually climbed back East.

Their loss. Move for move, the Northeast’s best routes are as good as anything out West. They’re also rich in history. Prominent Boston climbers and AMC members Charles Fay and Frank Mason laid the foundation for the sport in the United States. Their routes, and those of their followers, set the national standard for climb-ing from the 1880s to the 1920s. In the 1930s Boston Chapter member Robert Underhill was widely regarded as the best climber in the country. Tough as it is for western U.S. climbers to swallow, Underhill taught their predecessors how to do it. Up until the 1950s, most major advances in the sport were made in the East, not the West.

Webster’s Dictionary defines classic as "serving as a standard of excellence; of recognized value; traditional, enduring, historically memorable." With that in mind, here are eight of the most classic rock climbs in the Northeast, ranging in difficulty from a moderate 5.5 to a challenging 5.11a. Some of you will have experienced these routes firsthand; a select few may have even picked off all of them—a feat I’m still gunning for myself. But I truly envy those who have yet to climb these routes. There’s nothing like the first time, when each and every hold is a mystery, and nothing is guaranteed except a grand and worthy adventure.

The Shawangunks: High Exposure (5.6)
New York

German immigrant Fritz Wiessner first stumbled upon the Shawangunk Range when he gazed across the Catskills from the top of Breakneck Ridge. Inspired, he and his fellow AMC members came back the next weekend to explore the cliffs. To their delight they discovered the magnificent Mohonk Mountain House sitting smack dab in the middle of it all—a grand, 19th century resort surrounded by miles of pristine, horizontally banded quartzite.

At the time, Wiessner was one of the best climbers in the world. Along with his prolific routing in the Northeast, he made a significant attempt on 26,600-foot Nanga Parbat—the world’s ninth highest mountain—in 1932. And in 1939 he nearly succeeded in making the first ascent of K2; it would be another 25 years before it was finally climbed. The Dresden-born climber imported a strict code of ethics to the United States. He refused to use aid of any kind and would only climb on lead, or the "sharp end." Sky Top, which rises directly from the shores of Mohonk Lake, was his favorite cliff in the world. The Mohonk Mountain House, which sits within view, became a regular haunt of Wiessner and his New York friends.

Wiessner dominated the Gunks' climbing scene up until about 1940, when Austrian Hans Kraus appeared on the scene. A respected doctor who later served as John F. Kennedy’s personal physician, Kraus climbed with uncommon skill and nerve and is considered one of the fathers of modern rock climbing. His partnership with Wiessner produced a host of world-class first ascents across the Shawangunks, but none is more classic or more regularly climbed today than High Exposure.

High E is located on the Trapps, the Gunks’ biggest wall. From the parking area, follow the carriage path past the Uberfall area for 10 minutes. The High E buttress will come into view on your left. The first two pitches are short and easy, following a 5.5 corner system, which eventually drops onto a spacious ledge beneath the route’s signature roof. The crux of the climb involves squirm-ing your way across an awkward horizontal chimney, then cork-screwing your body to get your hands on some thankfully big jugs just above the lip. Even the most seasoned climbers can get spooked at the lip of the roof. If this happens, steel yourself and imagine what it must have felt like for Kraus on his first ascent in 1941. When Kraus reached up to those same holds, he had no idea what was coming next, or if the next 40 feet were even possible.

Mount Wheeler: The Great Dihedral (5.11a)
Vermont

Unlike the Whites, Vermont’s Green Mountains have received decidedly less recognition for their climbing opportunities. There are, however, hidden gems tucked away throughout the state. The Great Dihedral on Mount Wheeler shines brightest. Prolific climber Ed Webster put up the first route in 1978. It’s not surprising that he was able to find this out-of-the-way face and climb its most commanding feature. Webster had an uncanny ability to find quality routes where none previously existed. During the ’70s and ’80s, he added more routes to cliffs in the Northeast than almost any climber before or since.

Tucked in an out-of-the-way corner of the Northeast King-dom, 20 miles from the Canadian border, Mount Wheeler remains virtually unknown among East Coast climbers though a new guidebook, Rock Climbs New England, does include a section on the mountain. Located in the town of Barton and managed by the Green Mountain Club, Wheeler Pond Camps offer camping and access to more than 20 miles of hiking trails. The area’s most dramatic feature is certainly the 400-foot escarpment on the east face of Wheeler. The cliff pops out of nowhere as you approach on a winding dirt road off Route 16. The rock is a type of granitic gneiss notable for its high feldspar content, which sparkles in the sun and begs to be climbed.

All classic routes tackle a commanding line on the cliff. Such is the case with the Great Dihedral: a huge, open book that splits the cliff down the middle. Tree- and bush-covered ledges break up much of the wall, but the Great Dihedral takes a direct path up clean rock for three pitches. Don’t let the angle fool you. The cliff may be slabby, but this is still an advanced route. The first two pitches follow moderately run out slabs to bolted belays. On the second pitch there’s an obvious variation to the right, which tackles a steep roll in the slab past two bolts. The original route climbs weaknesses to the left (5.7), but due to the scant protec-tion, the harder variation (5.10) is recommended.

The crux dihedral is about 75 degrees at the start and gets increasingly steep as you climb until it’s nearly vertical at the end. There’s a tiny finger crack in the back of the dihedral, but most of it is so small you can only grip its outer edge. The good news: three pitons form the fixed protection. The bad news: they’re 10-12 feet between. If you blow the clip on any of them, you’ll take an unpleasant 25-foot slide. To descend, use two ropes to rappel off the ringbolts at each station. But before you do, take a minute to enjoy the magnificent panorama of Vermont’s unspoiled Northeast Kingdom.

Classic Climbs, cont'd >>