We’ve been to City of Rocks quite a few times, and during several of those visits experienced a full moon.  With the clear air and the light-colored rocks and sandy soil, it’s incredibly bright after your eyes have adjusted for a little while.  An idea began floating around in my head that it would be possible to climb under a full moon, but I never got up the guts or energy to try it. 

That changed last weekend when Gary Blatter and I journeyed to the City after a backpacking trip with Venture scouts fell through (darn!). 

The plan seemed pretty straightforward.  It wouldn’t be very smart to lead in the dark, so we needed a toprope or at least a top belay.  We should climb an east-facing route that would get light early so as not to stay up half the night.  What could be more classic than climbing Rye Crisp on Elephant Rock, possibly the coolest route in the City?  So we loaded up a couple ropes and some gear and scrambled up the back side just before dark, then sat around waiting for the moonrise. 

As we sat there, a couple flaws in the plan became apparent.  Had anyone seen us approaching the rappel chains?  Did they think we were in trouble up there?  We didn’t dare us headlamps, because that would have stuck out for everyone to see.  The plan was for Gary to lower me, then I’d climb up and lower him for his turn.  Then we’d rap down.  What if the rappel ropes hung up?  Could we clear them in the dark?  A suburban pulled slowly up to the parking area, then pulled slowly away.  I began to get more and more nervous.  Then the headlamps started coming on in the campsites.  In my paranoid state, it seemed they were all looking our way.  I really didn’t want to be searched and rescued at midnight and have to explain that we were fine, just having a little moonlight climb.  Finally, I decided it was a stupid idea after all, and we prepared to rap down.  The moon came up and immediately brightened our perch at the chains.  I went first, and to my surprise found the ropes had fallen cleanly to the ground, the first time that’s happened for me in a long time.  On my way down, I swung over to the route and climbed a bit while still on rappel. 

And then it hit me, the perfect plan.  Why hadn’t I thought of it earlier?  I waited for Gary to get down and explained, in brilliant simplicity, the idea of using the gri-gri for a self belay.  We hadn’t needed to sit up on top for all that time, we could have rapped off and sat in lawn chairs at the base until the moon came up.  I hooked up my gri-gri and began climbing the route, with Gary holding the rope at the base to help pull it through the device.  It wasn’t all that smooth at first, but soon I was able to move without too much fussing with it.  I had imagined that Rye Crisp would be a perfect “dark” route because of the obviousness of the route and huge handholds.  What I misjudged was the need to see my feet and to place them carefully so that I could take advantage of liebacking the huge flake.  My arms got pumped really fast as I gingerly moved my feet from one small irregularity to another.  It really was a lot of fun, but much more exhausting than leading in the light.  About a third of the way up, as the flake turned back to the right, I called it good and lowered myself down. 

So there it is, an unfinished climb, but still a successful adventure.  I still haven’t decided if I want to try it again.  On the one hand, I think I figured out a pretty good system that avoids the major potential problems with night climbing.  On the other hand, climbing a route under a full moon is really a contrived challenge that’s more about uniqueness rather than the quality of the experience.  One thing I can guarantee is that there will never be a crowd waiting to climb at midnight.