Opera House

There were sheets of rain falling on the ROK this weekend. I woke up at 6:20 Saturday morning to huge rain drops pitter pattering on my air conditioning unit. I packed up the rest of my gear and set out in the rain, to catch the bus and meet up with the other members of the climbing club. I saw the 6638 roll by and cursed out loud. Once I got to the bus stop I made the choice to walk down to the main intersection where I had more options to catch a bus to the climbing wall and meeting point. I was already running a little late when I saw the 22,the bus that takes me directly there and another bus I could tranfer from roll by. My pants were completely wet by the time I got to the corner but luckily the 12 rolled in about a minute after I got there. Maybe I would make it just on time.

I got off the bus and walked to where I thought we were meeting but I didn't see anyone there. On the last trip we had chartered a bus and met in the parking lot by the gym. I walked through the parking lot towards the climbing wall but still didn't see anyone. Then I got smart and checked my phone - two missed calls. I called the older woman known to me as older bread sister because she always brings some sort of pastry to the wall as a snack. The only thing I understood in her say was climbing center because she said it in English. When I got there there were five people standing under the overhung artificial wall to keep out of the rain. That's why there was no bus, it was only the six of us.

We (I mean they) quickly decided to go to Opera House to climb. I read about Opera House on the Korea On The Rocks website and heard it stayed dry in the rain but wasn't so sure about staying dry in a thunderstorm. It took us about five hours to drive down there cause we overshot and had to backtrack. The weather alternated between rain, heavy rain, what looked like a brewing tornado and clear blue skies. It seemed like the highway was the border between ominous gray clouds and this beautiful blue sky. I think we were in the eye of the storm at that point.

We rolled into Maisan park just in time to hear a huge clap of thunder and get caught in a downpour. We strapped on our backpacks and headed up the hill. Thankfully the hike was short but at the top of the hill we had to deal with class three scramble. Yay, wet mossy rocks and semi-muddy shoes. Adventure time! Fortunately the scramble was uneventful and all reached the top in one piece. Soon afterwards we reached the crag. It was strange walking past the roof of the crag and into the overhang where everything was dry. There was already another group there climbing away.

We unpacked our gear and I had the pleasure of warming up on a pumpy 10c. Needless to say I didn't onsight. I took once before finishing the climb. After a bit of rest I onsighted a 10b and the guys were getting me pumped up for my project, Maisan Tango. It's an overhung 11b with huge moves, especially for me. My first run on it went well until I hit the crux and bailed. I couldn't get back on the wall because it was so overhung and had to come down. My second run was a bit of an improvement because I hit the crux move, but still wasn't feeling confident because I hung from the rope before the crux, after the crux and felt like I did the move horribly. I finished the route and came down.

I saw someone send Maisan Tango before my third try and got pumped up for it. Everything was feeling good and I was dialed in. I knew where the holds were, where to rest and was pretty focused. I hit the crux move with relative ease and clipped into the quickdraw. After that things got a bit hairy. I lost my concentration, got confused whether or not I wanted three or four fingers in the pocket, went too deep into it and forgot where my feet needed to be. I lost my grip on the final hold and peeled off. It was getting close to the end of the day and I wasn't sure how much more I had in me.

After a shorter rest than I wanted I went for it, this time more determined, and feeling the moves more than knowing them. I hit the crux move and skipped clipping into the last quickdraw. It would've been a clean fall but falling the last thing on my mind. I gastoned the final pocket, made sure my fingers didn't drift too far in, hit the last move then hung the rope. Woo!!! The next day I did it again, better and cleaner than the previous day. I even clipped the last quickdraw. On the drive home I was trying to think of the last time I sent an 11b. Man, the last time. It was most likely when I was in Thailand. Feels like a lifetime ago.