Over rations of cigarettes and sandwiches the next morning, I meet someone who empathizes with my situation. He introduces himself as A.C. Robertson.

"I saw you up there yesterday. "Moving pretty slow, huh?"

"It's pretty hard."

"Is it A5?"

"I wouldn't know. I've never done one. …Sure wish I had some more beaks though."

"I'll give you all I've got." He says open heartedly.

"How would I get them back to you?" I inquire.

"I'll give you my address."

I hurry out to the climb with a boost of confidence and jug to the highpoint and attack the next placements, forcing more beaks into insipient seams. Wielding my hammer violently.

"Aggghhh!" A blood curdling scream expels my from my mouth, I stare at my throbbing fingers to see blood pouring from the first two digits.

I drag the mangled flanges through the dirt and on over my yellow sweater to slow the bleeding. I have nothing to aid my predicament, and wait until the blood stops flowing to continue. Above, every pin I place sheers from the rock. Half the day passes without any more vertical gain. Shaming myself - but at this point 99% sure I am on new terrain I pull the drill and pound in a bolt. Then rap to ground and drive home.

The next week Spawn comes with me again. We trudge out to the wall, and have a surprise. Some slick fucker has pulled the rope tight and cut it. I climb on Spawns shoulders and wielding a Jumar attach it to the dangling end of the rope, which hangs nine feet off the ground. I ascend to the highpoint, and after pulling a small roof aiding on 4 and 5 Camalots I reach a ledge. There are no bolts here – which assures that we are indeed on new terrain. I drill two bolts and fix the line.

Spawn comes up and sets off on his pitch, which begins blank. He drills a hook, then another, and just as he is pounding in the first bolt, his hook crumbles and he falls onto a bolt. He persists for the rest of the day barraging me with rocks and dirt; then he makes his way out a body length roof (on knifeblades) and continues up overhanging thin terrain. The lead takes the whole day to complete. He drills the anchor and we retreat the ground. That night we hang out in his car, drinking the cheapest beers we can get. After a few hours he starts the car and drives into the steepest, most constricting ravine he can find for off roading.