Romping In the Rain

Rain, rain go away.

We have gear to take away.

Sundown is the perfect place to climb on the weekends. No crowds, routes that stay dry in the rain, and easy access off the Conway side of the Kancamagus highway. The path leading to the cliff is subtle enough that casual hikers usually don’t stray too close.

The classics start at 5.11c for sport routes, so you won’t find any community groups in matching helmets lined up to try top roping for the first time. It also means that for non-5.13 climbers like myself, the warm-up route is your first project of the day. There are easier trad routes on the upper cliffs, dipping as low as 5.4 in grade, as well as several mixed sport and trad routes, with bolted cruxes.

If there are three groups on main cliff it’s a busy day. You might have to wait in line for Eyeless in Gaza, the 12b four-star-on-Mountain-Project mega classic, but there’s always three-and-a-half star 12a Romper Room a one minute walk away. The other climbers you’ll meet are either seasoned locals or long-time returners who know that Rumney is too jam-packed on a Saturday to to lie out all of one’s gear yard sale style and project a 2+ star classic for the day. The crag dog to climber ratio is much higher than average, and most of the canines are friendly.

While much of main cliff does stay dry in the rain, it is important to note that in torrential downpours Romper Room becomes a river. Project Dikenstein and Eyeless all you want during precipitation events, but get your gear off Romper Room before a stream overtakes the upper crimps.

Let me tell you how I gained this vital piece of Sundown rain beta:

Unfortunately for us, the cliff blocked the approaching storm clouds. Tristan had gotten himself stuck at the top of one multi-pitch trad route, so Matt and Tim had gone to rescue him with the 70m. Erin, Tommy, and I were finishing cleaning Dikenstein when it started to sprinkle, beginning the race to gather our draws before everything became soaked. It was pouring by the time Tommy, the only one of the three of us strong enough to lead 12a, was figure-eighted in. Water cascaded off the cliffs around us, and the top of Romper Room was soaked. So, naturally Tommy went for it.

After pulling onto the upper face, Tommy was stuck. There were streams running down every key crimp and the draws were too far apart to solely aid climb. A soaked Tristan, Matt, and Tim trio hiked by and informed us they were on their way out. Having tweaked her ankle on an earlier whipper, Erin opted to head out as well. It was another two-man adventure.

Twenty-seven tries later, Tommy still hadn’t made any progress or given up. For some odd reason, I was incredibly happy to be belaying in the rain. I was outside, the mist rolling in was beautiful, the water pouring off the surrounding cliffs gave one the feeling of being in the center of a waterfall, and I’d remembered my rain jacket. My sole concern was that Tommy was getting more frustrated with each failed attempt.

After eleven-and-three-quarters more tries, Tommy decided to dirt. We waited out the rain, me climbing up the ropes and traversing the bottom of the cliff while trying to convince Tommy I was perfectly and unreasonably happy in our current situation. Worry about getting the gear off wasn’t going to make anything dry out faster, and worst-case scenario we’d have to make a detour the next day to get it back.

Toward the end of the rainstorm, the sun came out. There was probably a rainbow somewhere and maybe even over the climb as Tommy rescued the gear through a mix of aid climbing and gripping damp, but no longer stream-like, crimps. However, I’ll never know for sure on the rainbow front, as the cliff and surrounding trees blocked most of the sky from view (it’s just a nice idea, so I added it in).

Laden with all of our gear plus most of Erin’s, we hiked out in the sunshine, ready to trek to Shell Pond and climb again the next day, all draws accounted for.