The Day I Didn't Fall on The Jackal

It's hard to believe I'm writing this. I knew this day would come, but in the same way you know one day you'll have a mortgage or grandchildren. It is probably due in good time, but I had found an identity in failing on this route. Just as a kid is defined by not being a parent, my identity as a climber was defined by not sending this route. But I loved it. I love it.

I first caught wind of the route 3 or so years ago. I'd adopted a Dixie Cragger's Atlas as the southern gumby's bible, and many of the guidebook's feature photos were by photographer Andrew Kornylak. I'd been climbing less than a year, which meant there was still novel climbing media for me to binge watch, and one day I stumbled upon his Vimeo channel.

https://vimeo.com/79442830

I watched every one, but when I saw Tyler Willcut making the first ascent of The Jackal, I  was mesmerized. Ironically, this obsession had nothing to do with the route. I mean, it was 5.14, and that's an imaginary number that ONLY exists in black diamond videos. No - I was mesmerized by Tyler's message and his roots. I related to him on some level and wanted to relate to him on others. He began climbing in the same area as I did. He spoke of an ethical obligation to maintain our cherished crags. And he had the same goofy curls I was burdened with myself!

Fast forward a year or so, and I had finally pushed through the 5.13 barrier. I was eager to challenge myself, and one particularly cold weekend I decided to go check out Laurel Falls for the first time. Of course, a 45-minute approach was basically alpine. We brought not just gear, but reserved backcountry permits and camped out at the falls. Our first day there, I flashed the two classic 12- routes, which are still 2 of the best I've been on. After some rest, I tied in for my first experience on the Jackal.

I knew there was a v6 sequence right off the ground. I fell 2 moves up. I tried again. Fell again. Due to where the bolt is placed and the steepness of the wall, it is difficult to work the v6 without just doing it. I wasn't super discouraged, because I knew what I was really excited for. And so I pulled past the v6, clipped the second bolt, and got ready to try one of the coolest moves I'd ever pull.

The V6 intro

Tyler said the dyno "is what it all comes down to", so in my mind I was staring at some v10 dyno. With no expectations, I hucked up and came 3 or 4 inches short! Super encouraged, I tried a couple more times, and the first time I decided to lose feet (aka actually dyno), I stuck it! That's when the dream cemented itself. In 4 years of climbing to this day, I still remember that feeling as one of the purest and happiest ever. As far as I knew, I'd just stuck the crux of a 5.14.

Dyno.

I then set my sights on the next boulder problem. Tyler called it v8, but after pulling up to feel the first hold, I swore it couldn't be harder than v6! Never mind that I was nowhere near doing this move, and it was only the first out of 3...I lowered and that was it for the day.

The following day, I set my sights on the v6. I realized I couldn't pull the moves the way Tyler did, and found a new sequence using some subtle heels and a higher right foot. By the skin of my teeth, I managed to fire the v6 from the ground and clip the second bolt, screaming for a celebratory TAKE!

Not only was I stoked to have done the sequence, but it was one of the coolest I'd ever done! Coupled with the dyno above, I didn't really care if the rest of the route was a combination of choss and bird shit, it was THE dream route.

I left it alone for a few months, but eventually returned. I found new beta for the dyno making it much higher percentage (v4/5), and stick clipped through the v8 to have my first taste of the upper section. This alone blew my mind. The best 12b I've ever done, and it's after 2 of the best boulder problems I've ever done. I'd done most of the moves, but linked very little - and the v8 still eluded me completely.

The world class 5.12 crux below the top.

As time passed, I started setting more appropriate goals. I linked the 12b for the first time, and many months later, I had stuck the dyno from the ground for the first time. I still hadn't done the final 3 moves of the v8 though.

I knew the sequence. So I trained for more or less the first time, hangboarding 30 minutes or so 2/3 times a week. I saw tremendous gains in my bouldering, and soon enough I was back with my friend John to try the Jackal. I STUCK THE MOVE on the v8 for the first time (off the hang of course), and was beside myself. It's nearly complete! I could finally get to making proper links! I did the 12b link that day, and also stuck the dyno from the ground! It was really boiling down to this crimp crux.

Sticking this left hand crimp is the crux

I set a simulator of the v8 back at school, and the next time I went out, I nearly stuck the first crux move from the ground. At this point, I'd caused quite a ruckus about this slice of sandstone perfection, and was getting messages from various folks who were getting stoked. I gladly took them out, and was inspired to watch them throw down this gem.

From the first day on the Jackal up to the send, I assumed the role of a "gatekeeper" for the route. Maybe this is selfish, or an illusion, but I felt as though I had the most intimate understanding of every subtlety the route had to offer. I knew more than just beta. I knew every hold, how to grab it, how to shift weight onto various feet, how to do sequences using different beta, how to shortcut the approach, everything. And between the moment I first touched the route to the moment I sent, I was there for every single send the route saw. Three people sent, and I gave every one of them the exact beta they used to do so. What's more, is I was on the other end of the rope for every ascent. Spray and belay - I guess I have a gift.

And suddenly it was my turn. I went through such a rollercoaster as it became feasible. I would cut out junk food from my diet for weeks at a time. I would hangboard religiously. Suddenly I would be back out there and still find myself hauling up the stick clip to get through the crux.

Don't mind stick clipping if it means I get to climb rock this good after it...

But this is the beautiful thing about trying something at or beyond your limit. Once everything is refined to perfection, it still isn't certain. It's largely luck. There is only one route that comes close to the level of total refinement I had with the Jackal, and that is Unshackled (an 8-month 8a project).

So here's the story of the day I sent.

I carpooled up to Dayton with a motivated crew. I played a mental game debating on what time to show up. If we arrived early, the crux would be shaded and temps would be good. But the humidity and moisture rids the rock of friction in the morning. We arrived later than usual, prioritizing drier air over cooler temps.

The rock is remarkably glassy, hence the need for good conditions

I warmed up on the classic Monkey Boy, a classic 12a with more crack climbing than sport climbing. The hanger on the second bolt was missing so I got the added mental warm up of "soloing" the first crux (I screwed the hanger and nut back on as I lowered). The rock was crispy cold, and my fingers were numb. I was so happy.

I walked around the corner to the Jackal and set up my rope. I was over feeling nervous. There were some expectations, but no real pressure. I'd been here so many times before that it was routine. I started up the v6 and didn't feel 100%. My feet sometimes cut on the last move of this boulder, as they did this time. Except today, my left hand (crimp) fired right off, and my right arm was suddenly holding my full weight. This tweaked my shoulder in a bad way, and a month later I'm still feeling this tweak.

I kept climbing though, and stuck the dyno a little less than perfect. As I moved right to the rest beneath the crux, I kept placing my hands on my neck to keep my fingers warm. I soon realized they were getting colder instead of warmer, and charged up. I peeled off on the bump to the left crimp, where I'd fallen dozens of times.

I wasn't discouraged yet. I pulled up, warmed my fingers, and tried again off the hang. I now fell on the last move to the ledge. I fell over and over and over.

Now I was a bit discouraged. I asked for the stick clip, and clipped the bolt above the crux. I tried the crux on TR and decided to try one small tweak - an awkward high right heel. Boom, crux was stuck. I climbed to the top from here, and brushed/ticked everything on my way down to set up Zander for a flash.

Zander styled it, but unfortunately peeled off a couple of times. His psych was high though, and I was getting ready to give my next burn. The crux had come into the sun now, but thankfully it was cold enough that it stayed prime rather than greasy. Everything lined up - cold, dry, psyched.

What happens next is one of my favorite memories, ever. I tied in and began delayering. Just as I wanted, Chris was on the other end of the rope. As I stood on the small boulder beneath the starting holds, I took a breath and took off my last layer - my long sleeve shirt. Chris looked at me and matched my stoke. Off went his jacket...off went his shirt. Never mind the 40-degree temps or the fact that Chris had not climbed yet. And with the almighty double-fist bump, I was off.


The bottom felt typical. Hard enough that I'm holding my breath, but rehearsed enough that it doesn't feel hard. On the last move (where I hurt my shoulder in the last attempt), everything sticks. 4 points on, and that's when I knew I was moving well. I barely rest before the dyno, and as I launch the right hand, I snag the jug absolutely perfect. No adjustments, no sliding, barely a swing - just utterly perfect. I move right, clip, and breathe.

There was nothing particularly different. The perfect execution of the previous two boulders didn't build my confidence. I was back in a very familiar stance, prepping to execute a very hard boulder. I never bother to think of anything more than the next six moves at this point. Just. Six. Moves. And only the last 3 are truly hard.

Setting up for the crux.

I set the familiar right heel. It's not good but I've learned to trust it. I make the blind deadpoint to a good flat edge. I stick, I close it. Muscle memory takes over. Switch right heel to a closer but smaller toe. Back flag left leg, left hand to left shit crimp on the intermediate. Left toe on the jug. Square in to reach sidepull. Suck in, lose the right toe, drop back slightly, then bump desperately to a crimp. I normally grab with my pointer, middle, and thumb, and then reel in the others. This time, I latch it with everything except my pinky. It takes about 3 seconds to get the pinky on, engage the fingers, and fully close. I backflag the right leg now, come into the left side of the intermediate with my right hand. This move is usually difficult, especially because you have to move your hand over and around the quickdraw. This time, it is totally controlled. I pick the right foot up and instantly decide to raise it to try the new high-heel beta. I thrutch to the ledge and snatch it PERFECTLY.

World's coolest V3 after the crux.

Now, we are in auto-pilot. Clip. V3. Rest. I rest way longer than shirtless Chris would have liked, and prepare myself mentally for the 5.12 sequence above. I'd always said "get to here and it's impossible to fall". I moved right, executed everything controlled static, and perfect. I don't think I screamed when I hit the jug. I think it was more of me repeating to myself "oh my god. oh my god. no way. that's a one hang right?"

The jug where you can finally celebrate!

I clipped the anchors, soaked up one hell of a setting, then lowered to embrace the perfect crew of friends.

I said the send go was everything I'd wanted it to be. But upon reflection, it wasn't. I thought this sort of project - a project so beyond me when I started, so hard that the go before the send I still needed a stick clip to get to the top - would mean when I sent, I felt what it meant to be at your absolute limit. But that small tweak in the foot beta, combined with my sticking everything perfectly, made it feel nearly autonomous! An incredible and unique feeling, but not 100% what I was after. I felt nearer my limit when I sent Unshackled, or Roughin' Up the Suspect.

Regardless, send frosties with a side of wifi and points were in order.