Accepting Circumstances and the Utility of Recon Days

Living and climbing in Southwestern OR presents a unique array of challenges, the most prominent being the presence of rain. Excess moisture has a sort of cascading effect on the region at large. What I mean by this is that there’s a lot of moss to contend with while climbing, and this isn’t necessarily the case in other areas. A day could be spent cleaning a route before any actual climbing begins, and although this isn’t ideal it’s still nice to be out in the open air.

Being able to accept the nature of these situations is essential to making the most of the climbing scene in this particular area, although it’s much easier said than done.

Last season we ventured out to the Rabbit Ears, an aptly named formation with two prominent pinnacles peeking out from above the trees. We first noticed the formation while driving south towards Medford, and couldn’t believe we hadn’t noticed something so obvious up until that point. Naturally, we checked it out on Mountain Project and sure enough, all the info was there. The drive was just shy of three hours over the Wendingo Pass and then South towards Crater Lake. The drive was unparalleled despite being fairly familiar and we were excited to explore a new crag.

While approaching the Rabbit Ears we noticed some other folks had pulled up and intended to hike around the formation. The beauty of this place can be experienced whether by climbing or simply on foot.

Getting to the small smattering of sport climbs on the lower apron proved to be less than straightforward given the new terrain punctuated by dramatic inclines and assortments of barely maintained trail. We trudged up and down in search of the glinting metal of hangers that would betray the locations of the routes. Eventually we stumbled upon a set of anchors, meaning we were above the route and therefore the opposite of where we wanted to be(obviously we could have rappelled but we were interested in putting up the route on lead and wanted as many surprises as possible)

We finally made it down the side of the apron and took a moment to rest, just in time for storm clouds to roll in and turn the beautiful rock into a waterslide. For a moment I simply refused to accept the situation, resisting the urge to leave in favor of believing that “the rain might pass soon and it could get sunny and dry off.” As if in response to my naive hopefulness, the rain poured down even harder, and I was forced to come to terms with the fact that we weren’t going to climb.

I had been meaning to make it out to this place, and the prospect of driving so far for so few climbs had seemed like a questionable way to spend a perfectly good climbing day(elsewhere) Upon being proven right in my doubts, I chose to wallow instead of seeing the day for what it was: a great opportunity to gather information for myself and other climbers for a future visit. No one chooses a recon day over a full-fledged climbing day, but unfortunately the weather (particularly here) has other plans (particularly with climbing)

Instead of being bummed about the conditions and the absence of any actual climbing, it’s important to remember that being able to go for a long drive in Southwest OR is always a blessing. The clouds are an external condition that don’t need to determine the internal state of reality.

And even in spite of this, we still managed to find a place to climb on the way home and caught a serene sunset, lowering the curtains on what remains the longest recon day to date. I can’t say that I look forward to breaking this record, but I do imagine I’ll be a little less defeated the next time it starts raining on a climbing day.