Finger Rock, Part Deux: Overnight SEND!

I had long thought about the best way to return to Finger Rock after our off-route debacle in February.  During the school year, everything seemed too busy; what with prom, AP tests, finals and graduation.  Summer break had arrived, but the Tucson summer heat was a serious force to be reckoned with.  It had occurred to me that the temperatures took a substantial dive after sundown, and with that an audacious plan became obvious- do it overnight!  It fit right in with my preparation for the Yosemite trip yet to come in the summer.  I reached out to friends and began probing interest.

Finger Rock, end of February (post-fiasco).

Sammi, a close friend and former teammate, was very interested, as was Sean Campbell (former teammate, close friend and Yosemite partner-to-be).  Soren’s mom was initially against the idea, but later would come around.  The date was still an unknown and plans were still liable to shift, but at least I had a willing and able (and awesome) crew to do it with.

As the beginning of June arrived, my sister decided to have a rather large sleepover for her birthday (on June 2^nd).  It quickly became apparent that I would not be welcome at my house other than sitting in my room.  I checked the weather report and with it came major excitement- no risk of precipitation, relatively cool temperatures and low humidity.  It was perfect.  I quickly contacted everyone, and plans were set.  Unfortunately, being the only one with an overnight parking permit, it involved me driving all over Tucson to pick everyone up!  Post-drive, we stood in the trailhead parking lot, able to see our objective clearly in the slowly fading light of late evening.

Sammi said goodbye to her mother who had dropped her off at the trailhead (she wasn’t finished getting ready when I had shown up at her house) while everyone else readied their packs.  I laced up the brand new FiveTen Guide Tennies I had purchased the day prior; not the ideal setup, but they would certainly be broken in by the time I was finished with them.  The plan entailed bivying for a few hours after descending the Finger, and as such we were all carrying overnight gear.  The 45-50 pound packs we each carried weighed heavily on us as we left the cars and started toward Finger Rock, silhouetted on the skyline.

Team photo! (minus Sean, who volunteered to take the photo after a couple failed self-shots).

Yeah, we weren't really on our photo taking game.

Sammi had voiced concerns about rattlesnakes both on the phone and in the parking lot.  Less than 10 minutes in to the hike, we had our first encounter with a rattler- poised a safe distance off of the trail, yet still announcing its deadly presence, we continued quickly past it.  Fortunately, this was to be our only snake encounter.  A few day-trippers were returning to their vehicles, and we warned them of the snake as we met them on the trail.  The light quickly fading, we reached the large boulder roughly a mile in and used it as an obvious stopping point before the trail turns steeply up the wall of the canyon.  As the last of the sun’s rays disappeared, we switched on headlamps, sipped water, and I swallowed a Clif Shot Turbo gel packet- I knew I was going to need the energy.  We decided that Sean (the de facto line leader due to his hiking stamina) should take my phone and play music to help prevent any future snake encounters.

With A Day To Remember playing from within Sean’s pocket, we started moving.  When we reached the relentless steepness that the Finger Rock trail earns its notorious reputation from, our goal was at least 8 minutes of hiking before resting.  We did this, rested a minute or two, and then started again.  Chugging along, we unknowingly walked straight past the next landmark we had chosen for a rest, the cutoff to a small lookout over the canyon.  Realizing we were making good time, we stopped to rest at a formation we dubbed the Cougar Cave, due to its likely role as a mountain lion’s shelter.  After a decent rest, we continued, achieving the promontory marking the end of this segment of the hike in far less time than anticipated.

The lights of a city sound asleep from the promontory.

Lounging after the infamous leg burner portion of the hike, we faced a choice- do we continue on toward the upper campsite and the Finger, or do we stop here and bivy?  I wanted to climb Finger Rock at night, and with the deadline Sammi’s mom had given us before she would call search and rescue (noon the next day), we decided to push on.  If we were too tired, we would stop at the campsite on the saddle behind Finger Rock and the Guard.

Sammi provides her best stereotypical asian-face while recharging with a Clif Bar.

Sean taking a well-deserved rest after leading the way up the rugged section of the trail we dubbed the Calf Burner 3000.

We picked up and started to move again, beginning with the quick descent into the canyon we had just fought our way up the side of.  Soon at the bottom, we crossed, found the trail and started up the seemingly gentler opposite side.  The going was steady, and our only rest came when we reached the upper campsite.  We resolved not to make the same trail-finding errors that had plagued my February attempt with Soren, and with this in mind, we chose the correct trail leading out of the saddle around 11PM.  As remembered, this trail involved a little 3^rd class (not so easy with large packs) that became a little trickier by headlamp.  Luckily, we stayed on target and finished the final brushy, uphill bushwack to the base of the technical route up the Finger.  We ascertained that this was, in fact, the actual route (and not another loose horrorshow as per February’s), threw down our packs and racked up.

As before, the lead fell to me.  I grabbed a couple cams and slings and started up the 4^th class V-slot that attains the first ledge.  I opted to forgo protection to allow Sean, Soren and Sammi to follow the clean face directly below the belay-tree.  When I arrived, I was a little uncomfortable with the size of the tree I was to belay from (and dismayed when I realized how loose the lip was).  I tried to back it up with a tight #4 Camalot, but it was useless as it would have just launched a rock down toward the base.  I pulled up and then tossed the rope down to get it out of the brush-filled gully.  Soren quickly climbed, thankfully following my instructions to avoid pulling on the death blocks poised on the edge of the belay ledge.  Sean did the same, while Sammi (climbing last) opted to climb the V-slot gully I had initially led. 

Sean can be seen scrambling around atop the main belay ledge.  I joined him and eventually we found what would have been the top out of my off-route adventure in February.

With all of us present on the belay ledge (forming the fist of the Finger as viewed from the city), we were ready to climb the final pitch and stand atop the wildy exposed spire in the darkness of night.  I tied back in, Soren put me on belay, and I started up, placing a #2 Camalot soon after leaving the ledge to prevent us both from falling off should I slip.  The bolt-protected “5.8 crux” came soon after.  This was an utter joke- the only change was that I had to stand on actual edges as opposed to large ledge features, with juggy quartz hands to boot.  Gripped with excitement, I clipped the chains and pulled onto the summit at 1:15AM.  In an instant, the beautiful lights of a sleeping Tucson came into view, along with a astonishingly bright moon illuminating the contours of the rugged Finger Rock Canyon.  After taking in the view (and a couple of self-shots), I downclimbed to the anchors and lowered back to the belay ledge so the others could experience the beauty I had just beheld.  Soren was next, then Sean, then Sammi.  Soren tried to “do the FA of the 5.11 sit start” and utterly failed in this endeavor, though providing much laughter in the process.  After Sean climbed and lowered back to the ledge, he announced that he had urinated from the top and Soren and I re-climbed after Sammi had visited the top to repeat this feat.  As Soren put it, it was the "best urination of my young life!"

Horrendous summit self-shot #1

Horrendous summit self-shot #2

Unfortunately, as with all great things, this had to come to an end.  We rappelled off, ate some food and packed up our bags with a new realization- we didn’t have time to sleep if we wanted to make it down before the sun commenced its brutal thermal assault on the canyon.  Around 3:30AM we started the hike down, reversing the still-tricky 3^rd class and eventually returning to the saddle.  We didn’t stop for long there; indeed, there would be no rest until returning to the canyon bottom, miles ahead.  Still charging along much faster than anticipated, we hiked the final uphill section to the promontory on the other side of the canyon and took a brief rest.  Here, the sky was beginning to turn from black to the deep blue of early morning, signaling the inevitable sunrise.  Still protected by the canyon, we continued on, able to turn off our headlamps just a short time later.  Along with Sean, I decided to run a portion of the trail, which was fun despite the likely destruction of the soft tissue in our knees.  We waited a short while later for the others to catch up, and we continued the long hike out.

Sean taking a rest just prior to our knee-destroying trail run.

Soren and Sammi, just behind Sean and I

Myself and Soren, circa 5:00AM on June 3rd.

Arriving at the conclusion of the miles of downhill hiking, we started the slow, mostly flat hike back to the car.  This section of the trail always seems far longer on the way out than at the start of the hike, seeming to go on forever.  It might as well, as I wished to cherish every second of the amazing night.  We reached the car at 6:08AM, marking the end of a stellar adventure.  We all piled in, exhausted.  I drove Sean and Sammi home, but while dropping Soren off his mother offered to buy us breakfast!  I gratefully accepted, and soon after we proceeded to eat delicious breakfast bagels prepared by the pros at Brueger’s Bagels.  We finished our meals and went our separate ways.  I returned to my home, recounted some stories to my eager parents, and very quickly passed out on the couch.  In the seconds before I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help but think one thing- that this summer was going to be the greatest ever.

We were pretty wiped at the end, despite the numerous energy products consumed throughout the night.  This is demonstrated here by this glorious photo I took of myself near the end of the hike.

More (bad) photos:

Soren chilling during our break at the promontory.

Myself enjoying the view of the city lights while recovering.

Soren taking a quick break at the campsite on the saddle behind Finger Rock and the Finger Rock Guard.

Sean and Soren at the saddle campsite.

Sammi - guess where - at the saddle campsite!

How do I self shot in poor lighting?  Clearly, paint with headlamp held overhead!  Also, we were sweaty.  Very sweaty.

Really cool window feature on the main belay ledge.

The lights of Tucson around 4:00AM on the descent.

Finger Rock Mini-Epic Trip Report

            Thursday, February 23.  First day of rodeo break, and I’m awake at 5:00AM.  I’m moving a little slower than I’d like to be; I text Soren and let him know I’m going to be a few minutes later than I expected.  I eat my signature breakfast, consisting of large quantities of Frosted Flakes, and shove my gear, lunch and water into my pack.  I arrive at Soren’s house at 5:56AM.  He grabs his stuff and throws it in the back next to mine.  After a quick stop at CVS for sunglasses (they weren’t open), we arrive at our destination.

            Our goal is to hike and climb Finger Rock.  The Finger Rock canyon trail is notorious for its relentless steepness, and what’s more is wrought with occasionally tough trail-finding.  The climb itself, were it not for its prominent and exposed position, promises to be fairly anticlimactic at the rather mellow grade of 5.8.  We check everything; I’ve got the hardware, Soren has the rope, we both have food and water.  We start hiking at 6:34AM in the darkness of early morning.  In short order, the sky turns a deep blue and begins to lighten as we trudge along the low angle, easy hiking of the first section of the trail, the spring in our steps not yet deadened by our heavy packs.

First rays of morning sun hitting Finger Rock Canyon.

            We take our first water break at a large boulder next to the trail, perhaps a mile in.  Just a little farther, we find ourselves at a crossroads. We decide to take the trail branch that follows the canyon bottom farther- this is a mistake.  After 20 minutes, the trail disappears, and we have to backtrack and try again.  Fortunately, there were only two options.  Unfortunately, we had reached the point when the trail starts to head uphill for a several mile long leg burner.  Thankfully, the trail is much clearer, and we have only occasional questions about where to go.

Soren enduring the relentless uphill steepness.

            Three miles and 2400 feet higher than the start of the hike, we arrive at the point where the canyon turns east.  Grateful to be back on level ground if only for a short time, Soren and I sit down for a few minutes to rest.  This is by no means our only rest since the boulder, but certainly the longest.  1920 feet in elevation gain in only two miles has ensured that our legs are thoroughly wrecked- and the hike is far from over.

Look kids!  I can self-shot too!

            After our rest, we head down the trail into the canyon bottom and start the slog up the other side.  Our impression was that we are nearly done- not so!  The hike is steeper, looser, and harder to follow from this point forward.  It contours up the NW side of the canyon and, after a mile or two of even more challenging hiking, finally comes to a close at a saddle just behind Finger Rock and the Finger Rock Guard (the hikable formation just east of Finger Rock proper). After a brief rest, we set out, unwittingly following a trail that dead-ends yet is heavily cairned.  After the wasted time, we try again; the new trail joins the dead-end trail we had just tried.  After destroying every cairn on the trails to nowhere that would could find, we stop to eat lunch.  We had wasted two hours on trails that didn’t even lead anywhere!  Fortunately, the third try was the charm, and we found ourselves at the saddle between the Guard and the Finger.

Hiking up the other side of the canyon.  The shoulder in the center of the photo is the top of the initial climb.

Soren happy to "almost be there," before we realized our trail was a dead end.

Finally made it to the saddle between the Finger and the Guard!

The beautiful view from the saddle.

            After taking in the view, we drop our packs and rack up.  With technical climbing gear donned and camera clipped to my harness, we start on the climb to the top of the Finger itself.  The first pitch (section) of the climb was described as a low-angle fourth-class gully, capped by a large tree.  We rope up at the base of a feature that matches this description, or so it seems standing beneath it.  I elect to not bother with a belay; it is only fourth class, right?  80 feet up I was presented with an unexpected challenge: a small roof loomed overhead.  I call for Soren to put me on belay, and I place two pieces of gear below the roof.  I pull the roof, which by no means was fourth-class.  I thought that maybe I was just letting the height get to me, and besides, there were several anchor slings from previous parties wrapped around the tree and a stuck piece of gear above.  We had to be in the right place.  I belay Soren up and he hands my gear back to me.  The second pitch supposedly has a solid bolt to clip before the hardest move, but I’m not taking any chances.  Soren put me on belay as I ventured onto the face above.

This is my stuff.  Soren had a full singles rack also.  Talk about overkill.

            For as much as I had heard about the quality of the rock on the Finger, the choss I was pulling on was far from inspiring.  Immediately off of the belay, I was presenting with unexpectedly difficult moves.  We had either gotten sandbagged, or (I tried to fight this notion aside) we weren’t on the correct route.  Undeterred, I clip the fixed piece of gear and, for good measure, place a piece of my own adjacent to it.  I pull more hard moves (5.10ish) and am presented with a sloping ledge.  With the bolt nowhere in sight, I pause.  Was it possible we really weren’t in the right place?  It couldn’t be- the number of slings left on the tree was too great for them to be from parties that had bailed, wasn’t it?

            After a few minutes of hesitation and a couple of aborted attempts, I commit to the moves away from the small corner and out onto the face.  Immediately, it is clear that this was, in fact, not the correct route.  A few scary hard moves (probably 5.10+R/X) were the only obstacle separating me from the big ledge looming above.  Several moves on small edges (with my last protection 10 feet below my feet in questionable rock), the only obvious hold was a large flake that seemed solidly attached.  I grab it, start to pull up towards the lip of the ledge (close enough to touch!), and, to my horror, the giant flake begins to flex under my weight.  Terrified, I down climb back to the ledge.  I mutter several profanities and decide to bail.  No way was I ever going to do that.

            Bewildered, I rig a rappel off of the tree and Soren and I descend.  Before we left the belay station, we had an incredibly disappointing revelation- we didn’t have enough time left to climb the proper route!  The outrageously exposed summit of Finger Rock had eluded us, and our 4.5 or 5 mile uphill hike had been for naught. We pack up our stuff, take a few photos from the saddle, and start our hike back to the car.

We tried to climb the chossfest gully on the right hand side to the tree, and from there straight up the face.  This is wrong. Very, very wrong.  The actual route is on the other side of the Finger.

Soren, looking stoic even after our botched non-send.

I'm not as stoic.  No send = sad face.

            Far faster than the slog up the hill, the descent nevertheless is exhausting.  Back at the promontory that marked the descent into the canyon on the way up, I eat a Clif Shot Turbo (100mg of caffeine in a tiny gel package!) and we start again.  Energized by the strangely textured and tasting food item, I pick up the pace down the trail.  I’m usually a pretty out-of-control downhill hiker (more like controlled falling than hiking), but I am too burnt out by the day to manage anything more than a steady walk.  A few minor slips and brushes with death (the mental image of potentially rolling and falling down the side of the canyon was horrifying enough to refocus my attention) are the only eventful happenings on the way down.

Looking back towards the finger on the descent.

You have eluded us, Finger Rock. We'll be back.

Looking down-canyon during the hike back to the car.  I love the Tucson desert!

Taking a break on the hike down.  Finger Rock Canyon - the only place you'll ever need to rest while walking downhill.

            With completely dead legs, we stumble back to the parking lot from the trailhead.  We had made it.  Finger Rock loomed above us mockingly.  In our minds, it had transformed from a thumbs up to a middle finger.  We would need to do it again, but next time we would be ready.  We drive back to the good ol’ OV we call home, have an excellent meal at the Mexican restaurant next to the local Dominoes, and call it a day.

            Next time, I thought.  Next time.