Cleveland-Bragg Spree of New River Craziness

When it rains, the world seems to slow down. Cars drive slower along the oil-slick roads. Dogs stop running, and fall asleep under front porches. People stop their hustle-bustle activities and take refuge inside. But for climbers, the world doesn't slow down – it comes to a dead stop.

We had driven five hours, late on a Friday night, to climb at the New River Gorge in West Virginia, but when we crawled from our tents on Saturday morning, the woods was soaking wet and a slow drizzle continued to fall from the steely clouds overhead. We would not be climbing anytime soon. Derek, Will, Sarah, and I had driven north from North Carolina, and Tim, Jocelyn, and Vik had driven south from Cleveland. One-by-one we massed at the campsite's picnic table and began discussing alternate plans – hiking, whitewater rafting, sleeping? After cooking some oats on the camp stove and brewing at least three pots of coffee, our collective creativity decided that a second breakfast in nearby Fayetteville would be the best plan.

Fifteen minutes later we were sitting in the Cathedral Café, just past Fayetteville's only stop light. This was the rainy-day climber hang out. The place was bustling with climbers and the air was filled with a caffeine-induced buzz. Everyone wanted to be on the rock. But I'll admit, one of the Cathedral Café's breakfast quesadillas is a worthy alternative. It wasn't until almost noon that we ventured back to the cars and headed for the cliffs.

We found the trailhead and the faint approach trail to the Bubba City climbing area. We made our descent and quickly realized the rock was still really wet. Nearly all the moderates were waterfalls, and many of the .10s and .11s had impossibly slick start moves. But we found two .7s and a .10a to cut our teeth on. The rock was superb, and the protection was more than G-rated, making for a fun experience – no scary runouts or iffy rappels, which kept me in Vik's good graces. By two in the afternoon, the rock was almost entirely dry, which gave us a good climbing window before thunder and an ominous bank of clouds shut us down at around six.

A testament to my friends' ability to have a good time, we found our way a thousand feet down into the gorge, where we swam in the New River to wash away the day's sweat and dirt. And then in good fashion, we migrated toward the one thing that unites all climbers – BEER! Will had spotted a restaurant aptly named Pies and Pints earlier in the day, and the place lived up to its name. The beer was good (a.k.a., either microbrews or PBR) and the pizza was phenomenal. The tomato, garlic, spinach pizza was one of the best slices I've ever had – and the crust wasn't greasy, letting us gorge guilt-free. Okay, let's be honest: Eating healthy pizza means only one thing – you can drink more beer. So we did.

The night began peacefully, but by the third or fourth pitcher our stories were getting louder and more animated and there were way too many high-fives going around to still be considered cool. By eleven – when the restaurant closed – we were in rare form and rollicking back to the campground. Our plan was to wake up early and get in a few routes before we drove home to our respective cities. But alas, we were foiled again.

Sometime in the night, the rain began to fall. And by six in the morning it was beating on our tent hard enough to wake me from my beer-laden slumber. No climbing today. So instead, we woke up late, turned cooking breakfast into a two-hour ordeal, and packed leisurely. All except our beloved Will, who was curled up around a tree somewhere – seems the brew was a little too strong for someone, but I'll let him tell you how his morning went. Regardless, by noon, we were packed and saying our good-byes.

**In my opinion, the New is second only to the Red River Gorge for big groups to have great parties, and it would be a serious contender for the number one spot if only the camping was cheaper. So if you read this entry and want to join us on our next Spree of New River Craziness, shoot me an e-mail.