Smoke Hole Canyon has a certain magic to it. I’ve said this about other places, I know, but that’s just a result of me having good taste and knowing to go to places with character (haha). Primarily known to fishermen and cavers, it’s gained notoriety with climbers in recent years as the crags of Seneca and the New get overrun as the jewels of the mideast. Elaine and I stopped in Spelunker’s, a burger joint in Front Royal, VA, to gorge ourselves on burgers and lay out a plan of attack for Smoke Hole. I knew approximately two things – where Smoke Hole is, and that Wyatt, a coworker of mine and Smoke Hole expert, was going to be somewhere there. The hope was to find him, if for no other reason to get the inside scoop on where to go and what to climb. Without any direct contact with him, though, we were bounding towards a wild goose chase.
We lifted ourselves from our booths in Spelunker’s with enough food to last us through noon the next day, and drove out towards Smoke Hole. Specifically, we were headed towards Big Bend Campground, at the end of Smoke Hole Road. When we winded our way there, we were greeted by a trailer adorned with easter decorations on one side of the road and an admittedly scenic graveyard on the other. We picked our site and chatted with the hosts who graciously spotted us the three bucks we owed in cash after commenting on how we were from the City, city. I don’t think of myself as an urbanite, but relative to them, maybe I am. What can I say, I love cold brew and the arts. They gave us recommendations for a cave we unfortunately didn’t have the time to check out, and we spent the evening playing half-remembered card games.
The next morning, we arose slowly into a cold sunrise. The week before had been in the 70s, and the next one would be in the 80s, but of course this week we were looking at the 50s, max. We rehydrated our breakfasts and headed towards Sunshine Wall, a crag in the canyon known for, well, sunshine and relative warmth. I figured given the weather, it’d not only be our best bet, but Wyatt’s too. The only issue was with neither of us knowing the area and Mountain Project’s description being vague at best, we were in for an adventure just getting to the crag.
We veered into the small gravel lot of what we figured was the way, where two other cars with Virginia plates greeted us. Promising. We read that the trail to the crag would be a few feet right of the lot and have a bunch of switchbacks next to a creek bed. We saw a trail, conveniently with two branches making an X, and went down it, because that marks the spot. Right? We followed the creek with frequent crossings until we found ourselves standing in the middle of a gentle waterfall, if it can be called that. Where we didn’t find ourselves was on any switchbacks headed up to what was clearly Sunshine Wall towering up to our right. We knew where to go, but the path to get there? Unclear. Ain’t that just the way.
We backtracked, trying to figure out where this trail became the trail to no avail. Eventually, we got back to the lot, looked a few feet more to the right of the lot, and there, clear as day, was the actual trail. At least we got some cool scrambling in. We winded our way up steep switchbacks to the wall and there we saw Wyatt’s brother, Jay, belaying someone. Jackpot. We found Wyatt, who only seemed half-surprised to see us. Honestly, I was sort of disappointed by the anticlimactic ending of the Search for Wyatt, but all’s well that ends well.
He suggested we try leading a climb he had just finished, Cuddle Puddle, to warm up as he and another climber headed further around the face. Cuddle Puddle was described as a super gym-like climb with a super inviting name to boot, sure! We got set up and clipped in and off Elaine went. All was good for the first two bolts, just some crimps to a ledge, nothing crazy. But then, the crux. A weird sidepull/overhang fast move to get to the next bolt requiring quick, nimble feet, and not shitting your pants. We switched off lead duties trying to get to the next bolt, and on my second go I was able to send it, getting two bolts more before absolutely pumping out and not being able to get any further. To make matters worse, I’d taken a weird fall pulling my right forearm not to the extent it was dunzo, but just enough that we decided to move on.
We spent the latter half of the day trying a few other routes, getting to similar points where we’d be just one bolt away, and for whatever reason couldn’t complete the send. We took some solace in the fact that we were both getting hung up at the exact same points in the respective routes, but the disappointment still lingered. Lead climbing is just a different ball game. Falling on top rope might mean dropping a foot or two, but a fall on lead can be the last fall you take. To be fair – the bolts were well spaced, and in reality the worst fall we could’ve taken would have been more nerve-wracking than body-shattering. On the wall, though, it’s hard to have a cooler head prevail even sequestered under a helmet.
Dehydrated and pumped, we beat a hasty retreat under the midafternoon sun and headed towards Shreve’s. To be honest – I expected more. A shack with some coolers, it clearly was still laying in dormancy until the dog days of summer hit. And their damned orange juice was expired. Still, we sat out on one of their benches next to the river for a while, using their wi-fi as we licked our wounds. After a while, Wyatt and Jay ran into us. We made plans to meet up the next morning at their little slice of the canyon at the Palace, a roadside crag that also happens to require a substantial water crossing.
Those who’ve been outside with me know I adore a good water crossing. I don’t understand folks’ obsession with staying dry. We try to save ourselves from any potential discomfort, any chance that things might go wrong, but you just can’t do that outdoors. No amount of gear can 100% protect you from or put you in the good graces of Mother Nature. That’s not to say people shouldn’t take reasonable precautions or forgo being properly kitted out, but at a certain point you can’t survive on Gore-Tex alone.
Elaine had… less enthusiasm about the water crossing. A chilly morning, with chillier water, and then sticking wet, chilly feet into chilly climbing shoes to go up a chilly face? It’s just part of the adventure! Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
The next morning, we joined Wyatt and Jay across the river. We waited a while for a slow moving fisherman to wade his away from where we planned to ford the river. Once he had gotten out of our path and we were no threat to his potential bounty of fish, we crossed. Fortunately, it was a warmer morning than the day before, and we were able to wade our way out with no casualties of gear or sanity. We attempted a crack climb they set up for us, but as it was the day before, we both got hung up at the same point in the climb. Watching Wyatt after us, we realized exactly where we’d gone wrong, having not veered right earlier in a little chimney portion. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to give it a second go, already being late to meet Dennis in Davis. After having gleaned all the knowledge we could, we gave Wyatt and Jay our goodbyes and crossed the river and barreled towards Davis.
We left Smoke Hole with mixed emotions. We had just spent the past few days climbing in a gorgeous, secluded canyon, camping out at a riverbend where we could see the night sky in its full glory. Simultaneously, we had gotten our asses kicked. We had excuses galore – Elaine hadn’t climbed in a hot second, I’m new to lead climbing, we were in an entirely new location to us, the style of routes there weren’t what we felt as used to, if we had extra time we could’ve absolutely sent some of the routes we didn’t send the first time around. Those excuses didn’t really matter, though, the dejection didn’t either. We’d be back. Smoke Hole hasn’t seen the last of us by a wide mile.
I’d say all and all, it was still a success. Any day spent outside, enjoying yourself with good folks is a successful one. It’s important not to get stuck in a binary mindset of a successful day being one filled with sends, and an unsuccessful day being one filled with lowering. Sometimes success is just showing up, it’s more than what most people do.