If there is one takeaway our group had from this trip, it is that you should never eat Mexican food the night before a bigger climb.

As we arrived at our campsite by Looking Glass Rock, NC later in the day on Friday, we knew it was too late to try and fit any climbing in. After getting camp setup, we had perhaps the toughest decision to make on a climbing trip like this. Do we sit in my car and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and drink day old water, or do we make the trek to into town and treat ourselves to not only a real meal, but a real bathroom.

Soon after these deliberations we found ourselves at a local Mexican restaurant, and I had potentially the best Chori Pollo on the planet. This is unimportant in the moment, but an important detail for later.

After returning back to camp uneventfully, we settled in for the nights camp. Me in my car, one in a tent, and one with an eno. However in all his preparation, the one in the eno never checked the weather and thus did not pack a rain tarp. This small miscalculation would come back into play around midnight that night, when three hours of unrelenting rain started. I awoke to my car door opening and a sopping wet mess of a man hunkering in the passenger side seat of my car, where he would reside for 6 more hours of less than ideal sleep. This is also where the phrase “I thought you checked the weather?” first came out of our mouth’s.

We awoke and got up and moving around 7am, a later start than planned but we decided to hold out starting to give the rock time to dry. After the short half-mile approach in at around 8am, hoping on the sharp end of the rope, and racking up, the Chori Pollo started to make it’s appearance again, and it was making itself very known. After throwing my harness off as quick as I could, and running into the woods, I proceeding to engage in one of the more feral emergency bathroom situations I have had throughout my time in the outdoors. After using natures best toilet paper, and contemplating every choice in my life that led to me bear hugging a tree and swearing to myself to never eat another Chori Pollo, I hopped back in my harness and started off into the sea of brows of The Nose, 5.8.

After reaching the anchors of the first pitch and being above the tree-line, my next mistake made itself known. All I had on was a light sun hoodie and shorts. A perfect outfit for the full sun on route during the 60 degree day we were expecting. What we did not know was the wall does not get sun until noon, and the high temperature of that day had changed to only be in the 50s, and the wind rips up the wall the entire time you climb. This is the second instance of “I thought you checked the weather!’ came out of my mouth, however this time I was the one feeling the consequence this time around.

Once the other two climber’s reached the ledge, they were not only feeling the effects of the high wind, but also the effects of their own cheese-filled dinners the night before. Oh well, too late for them, onwards we go.

For the next 3 hours we would make our way up, and I would quickly learn of my biggest weakness: friction slab. I spent the entirety of the four pitches thinking to myself: “If this is 5.8, then I need to never climb again.” After topping out, I came to the realization it was likely soft at 5.8 apart from a few cruxy foot smears, and I am just horrifically bad at slab climbing.

The positive side of climbing The Nose is it practically felt like a top-rope climb with how much gear you could place, except for a few sections of easy climbing. This is a stark contrast to my last NC climb at Whiteside Mountain, however those adventures with 40ft runouts and spending more time in no fall zone’s than safe zones are for another day.

After topping out the climb, and scrambling on low angle rock to the summit, we then ran into the last unexpected part of the day. Hikers. When you get hailed as a hero by the middle-aged hikers who see your accomplishment akin to freeing a route on El Cap, it can make you forget how much you just made yourself suffer on a 400ft 5.8.

Following a bizarre interaction that began by a couple hikers asking to take our picture and quizzing us on the day’s climb, we began the three rappels necessary to get back to the ground, but more importantly, the welcome relief from the freezing wind we found among the trees.

After returning to the car to refuel for the two remaining climbs we had planned for the day, we relished the warmth of the vehicle and sensed the toll of enduring four hours of relentless wind on our bodies. This prompted our decision to drive to the nearest bathrooms before embarking on the long journey back home.

In short, when preparing for a day of climbing, pack for the worst-case scenarios rather than being young, dumb, and reckless like us. This is a lesson I have learned more than once, yet make all too often.

Thank you for reading, and I wish you all safety as you embark upon your own adventures.