I called up Seneca Rocks Climbing School, based next to The Gendarme climbing shop right smack in the middle of town, and set up a weekend intermediate course. On a Friday afternoon I made the 3+ hr. drive to Seneca through flash floods and massive thunderstorms, checked into Yokum's Motel, ate a sandwich and hit the hay.

The weather didn't exactly cooperate. What follows is a brief rundown of what we got up (not much, but I would take it). Since it rained both days just after noon, we only got about six hours of climbing in total. Still a good time, however.

My guide was Adam Ruther from SRCS. Very solid climber and very, very safe. I appreciated his approach and his gentle humiliation, er, I mean encouragement, throughout.

Day One:
I showed up at the Climbing School to meet my partner and guide for the weekend and get set up. Within half an hour we had the rack and rope and were on our way to the rock. And here's what we did:

• Practiced placing and cleaning gear in the cave on the South End.
• Did the first pitch of Totem (5.11a) a couple times. Adam called the first pitch 5.4-ish. Whatever. See the links at the end of this trip report for a bit of history on Seneca's route ratings. Let's just say the locals climb hard.
• We wanted to get on Candy Corner but it was crowded, so we hiked over to a crack on South Pillar and waited for it to rain. It did not disappoint.
• Hiked back to town, dried off, then beer and yuks at The Gendarme. Adam introduced me around to a few folks from my neck of the woods, with whom I later saw X-Men in Elkins. Hopefully we'll climb together someday soon.

• First pitch of Prune (route goes at 5.7, I'm told the first pitch is 5.5), which was very wet and petrifying. Climbed up to a wide belay ledge, clipped into the belay and breathed deep.
• The next section of the climb was the crux, and it in truth beat the hell out of me. After a short traverse right I found myself staring up at my first crack climb - Front C (only 5.6). The crack was a high-stepper job, left-leaning, out of balance. Adam gave me clear beta as he was climbing it and placing gear effortlessly. Of course, I forgot every word by the time I was on belay and made it to the crack. If it hadn't been for two very patient and supportive guys from Maryland who waited for me to get up the pitch, I might not have made it. I demonstrated an absolute and utter lack of poetry on stone. I was just pathetic, and after slowly sliding off the crack twice, I ended up hangdogging in extreme embarassment. Finally, after shaking the Jell-O out of my arms, I asked for tension on the rope, reverse toe-jammed a small crack on the right, left foot scraping to find nonexistent holds on the blank left face, you know, making it as hard as possible, of course. God I sucked. The crack was dripping and fungally wet, but somehow, with much encouragement from my Maryland neighbors, I reverse stabbed my way up the crack, pulled down the moves and made it up. Up until my final attempt, I was seriously afraid I might have to have Adam lower me back to the ledge where I would contemplate a hasty retreat. But no need for that, thankfully.
• From the top of the crack it was another short traverse over to Old Man's Route (5.2). It was easy, but I actually really liked this pitch. Blocky ledges and cracks up to a loose rock-filled gully that brings you to easy fourth-class terrain along the summit ridge.
• At this point we coiled the rope and climbed fourth-class but very slick quartzite to the summit, where we were attacked by a swarm of unrelenting biting flies. We spent very little time up top. The first rappel down went without incident, but it started raining like hell starting the second rap. In the interest of time and weather, Adam lowered me from the second rap station and innumerable climbers bailed from the wall on our and another party's ropes. Looked a bit like a paramilitary action film. It was a good time.