The Nose (5.8) Looking Glass Rock, North Carolina

Four Southern granite pitches sure to raise a few “eyebrows”

Forecast Radar Cameras

The 600-foot dome of Looking Glass gets its name from thin sheets of verglas that occasionally build up to reflect winter light after a freezing rain. Yet this sheen is not what comes to mind when you stare up at the southwest face: it’s the “eyebrows” — thousands of horizontal wrinkles in the granite veneer, weathered by water seeping into the metamorphosed feldspar and mica.

From below, the first pitch’s 5.5 eyebrows seemingly trace a jug ladder to the summit. But you quickly realize you’ve been duped: the eyebrows slope decidedly downward, requiring underclings, attentive footwork, and savvy gear placement. Get suckered too far up, however, and you might find yourself thinking existential thoughts, your last cam socked deep in the eyeball of a distant brow.

All this fancy footwork gives renewed appreciation for Bob Watts, Robert John Gillespie, and Steve Longenecker, who FA’ed The Nose circa 1966 . . . in lug-soled logging boots. Longenecker and Watts also wore motorcycle helmets, and the climbers used Gold Line rope. To descend, recalls Longenecker, they ran the rope through a carabiner on the fronts of their “rock jocks” [swami belts], and then took the line over the shoulder and behind the back. “Talk about rednecks,” he says. “We were that . . . in more ways than one.”

From the bolted belay atop P1, go slightly left, as the FA team did, aiming for a prominent ramp and adding 40 feet of do-not-miss climbing (and one of the route’s few bomber nut placements). Here, you’ll meet the first steep and balancy crux, working your way right on the ramp and then straight up to another bolted belay. Another 5.8 crux above the bolts and you’re skying eyebrows all the way to the aptly named Parking Lot ledge.
Tip the valet and start a fine pitch of 5.7 that slowly eases into fourth class. Up top, savor lunch before rapping (not with a shoulder wrap, we hope) to the rhododendrons.

From below, the first pitch’s 5.5 eyebrows seemingly trace a jug ladder to the summit. But you quickly realize you’ve been duped: the eyebrows slope decidedly downward, requiring underclings, attentive footwork, and savvy gear placement. Get suckered too far up, however, and you might find yourself thinking existential thoughts, your last cam socked deep in the eyeball of a distant brow.

All this fancy footwork gives renewed appreciation for Bob Watts, Robert John Gillespie, and Steve Longenecker, who FA’ed The Nose circa 1966 . . . in lug-soled logging boots. Longenecker and Watts also wore motorcycle helmets, and the climbers used Gold Line rope. To descend, recalls Longenecker, they ran the rope through a carabiner on the fronts of their “rock jocks” [swami belts], and then took the line over the shoulder and behind the back. “Talk about rednecks,” he says. “We were that . . . in more ways than one.”

From the bolted belay atop P1, go slightly left, as the FA team did, aiming for a prominent ramp and adding 40 feet of do-not-miss climbing (and one of the route’s few bomber nut placements). Here, you’ll meet the first steep and balancy crux, working your way right on the ramp and then straight up to another bolted belay. Another 5.8 crux above the bolts and you’re skying eyebrows all the way to the aptly named Parking Lot ledge.
Tip the valet and start a fine pitch of 5.7 that slowly eases into fourth class. Up top, savor lunch before rapping (not with a shoulder wrap, we hope) to the rhododendrons.