Friday, April 13, 2012

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.