Ancient Art, Stolen Chimney

By: Warren Teissier | Climbers: Warren Teissier, George Bell, Jr. |Trip Dates: April 12, 2003

Photo: Gary Clark

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Of Desert Classics and the Madness of Crowds

My friend George Bell and I decided to launch the climbing season in earnest with a trip to the desert. We were looking at doing THE classic climb in Colorado National Monument (Independence Monument, Otto's Route, 5.9) and THE classic (cattle) route in the Fisher Towers (Ancient Art, Stolen Chimney, 5.11 or 5.9, C0).

These routes' classic status is not only due to the quality of the climbs but to the fact that they are some of the easiest climbs in the tough world of desert climbing. Accordingly, many a "Gumby line" typically forms at the base.

We left Boulder on Saturday morning; our thinking was that we would do Otto's route in the afternoon, after all the early risers would have finished the route. We reached the Park, grabbed a campsite and headed out for the two-mile hike to the base of Independence Monument. At the sign-in register we discovered that no climbers had signed in that day. It was 11 AM and no climbers? Surely they must have forgotten to sign in. George confirmed my suspicion when he mentioned that some of the hikers that signed in MUST be climbers masquerading as hikers... We reached the base and found no one on the climb... Weirdness.

Otto's route is a surreal climb. We really enjoyed it but felt like we were cheating our way up a really impressive tower. It became really clear to us that although the first three pitches could be climbed without Otto's chopped hand and footholds, albeit it at a very stiff and unprotected rating, the last pitch would be simply impossible.

Sunday morning found us having breakfast in the Fisher Towers parking lot. By 8 AM we were at the base of Ancient Art. Because of the late start we expected to be at least second on the climb. But once again we were first, with no other party in sight, double weirdness…

During breakfast we had discussed whether we should take etriers for the bolt ladders on the route. We agreed we would try to climb the route free and left them in the car. After sharing a can of Starbuck's Doubleshot Espresso, George prophesied that the caffeine kick would indeed allow us to climb the route free. Since George had climbed the route years ago, he asked to lead the pitches he had followed previously. This meant I was stuck with the bolt ladders, great…

He quickly led up the short blocky 5.5 pitch to the base of the first ladder. George had mentioned that the reason he had aided it 8 years ago was that the pins looked so insecure he did not want to risk a fall on them. It was thus with apprehension that I approached my lead. To my relief the pitons looked pretty good; perhaps they had been replaced. A couple of thin stems led to somewhat more secure climbing, always with a bolt at my chest during the hard moves.

Soon enough the pitch ended and George launched into the chimney pitch. It was surprisingly clean considering it is called the "Mud Chimney" in some guidebooks. I guess the increased traffic has really helped in cleaning out the mud. With the exception of a short section in the chimney the pro was very good (as good as desert pro can get I guess).

It was now my turn to lead the second ladder. This pitch felt harder and thinner than the first one, but was significantly shorter. We had managed to do the route free - the Espresso had come through!

Interestingly, in some guides this pitch is rated easier (5.9) than the first bolt ladder (5.11) (Cameron Burns). To make matters more confusing, other books reverse the order of difficulty and rate them in the 5.10 b/d range (Fred Knapp). Go figure. We thought both pitches were some sort of 5.10 with the second one being harder.

George lead the summit pitch. I am glad it worked out that way because I would have been terrified had it been my turn. He cleverly avoided the diving board "belly flop move" by traversing low and left, and made short work of the awkward and "bouldery" move that starts the pitch up the corkscrew summit.

A week before the climb, while taking my kids to the park, I had been walking back and forth on a half a foot wide wood beam used as a sand retainer. I had convinced myself that since I could do it at the park, I most certainly would be able to WALK the gangplank on the final pitch of Ancient Art. Now, with a top rope, I looked at the foot-wide gangplank and at the 400 ft of sheer drop on either side, and decided that my brief park beam training was no match for the exposure. Falling prey to a serious attack of the chicken shits, I proceeded to combine a "crawl / a cheval" technique to the other side of the plank. I capped this stylish performance by humping my way onto the Diving Board, literally.

In an effort to redeem my bruised ego, and riding the crest of the exposure-induced adrenaline wave, I was able to stand atop the summit for a couple of pictures. This act of bravado was quickly ended when George, after taking the shots, remarked "Wow, you're bold!" To have George, easily the bolder of us two, say this, knocked some sense in my head and I was promptly back on my knees.

Three raps had us back at our packs. By this time a team was in the chimney, with another just starting the climb. It had been a special trip; we had bagged two of the desert ultra classics (read: cattle routes) without getting there too early and without seeing anyone on the route while we climbed. As we headed to our car, George suggested swinging by Arches and bagging Owl Rock: the supposed "Ultra Classic Moderate" of the Park.

"Why not, if we have lunch now and drive there, we could be climbing by 1:00 PM, perfect time to start a classic…"