Indian Joe Caves + Stanford   11/5-6/88

Joel is here, and I'm whipping him into shape [sic] for Thanksgiving in Joshua
Tree.  What did we do first -- stuff ourselves at a Chinese restaurant (with
Bob Palais, Nancy, Lani, Eric Doub + Sophia), then we stuffed ourselves
again (smoked pig) at an old roommate's new place.  Nancy had me weigh myself
this morning (sopping wet), and I came in at 138 (she has risen to 139), so I
guess all that food is not taking its toll after all.
    Took Joel to Indian Joe Caves, where we TR'd and hangdogged a new route --
5.11a arete on the edge of a 100-degree wall.  Starts with steep pullups
on finger edges with your feet trying to skid off because it's so steep.
After "resting" at a bucket, you slap the arete and throw a short dyno to
where the arete diagonals.  There you can lieback or do pullups on it.  The
rock was very slick -- like the Quincy Quarries in that respect, and dark.
Also tried to TR the center route "Little Eiger" on this wall, but not much
luck.  Got the initial 7 or so moves, but could not even dog out the
remaining moves up the seam.  It's hard to dyno past long blank sections when
your feet are on nothing, and the holds are tiny and sloping.  It's in the old
guide as 5.11+, but there's no way.  The guidebook author admitted to me that
it had never been done, but "it looks like 11d".  Since I heard Elliott didn't
make it, it must be at least 5.12 if it's been done.
    On Sunday I took Joel on a grand tour of Stanford bouldering.  No cop
hassles, and we worked on several problems, writing the ratings into my
developing guide.  We also ran into a nice honed climber at the Torture
Chambers.  After a friendly conversation, we discovered he was none other than
Jim Collins, now teaching at the Stanford Business School.  A legend of
Stanford bouldering (not to mention Genesis and soloing the Naked Edge), he
said he's been working on the Genocide traverse again (5.13 done in 1978 with
no repeats).  He is a nice guy, and I'm almost sorry I broke his anonymity by
guessing his name and thus bringing forth images of his wild deeds of youth.

Clint