Type: | Sport, 130 ft (39 m) |
FA: | Boris Girardin, Claude & Yves Remy, 2009 |
Page Views: | 1,020 total · 7/month |
Shared By: | Top Rope Hero on Oct 20, 2011 |
Admins: | Jason Halladay, Luke Bertelsen |
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Description
Oh-sweet Zagori! Means: "WHY THE HELL didn't I buy that 80m rope when I had the chance?!"
Zagori starts with a bang. Work up to the first bolt from the left with a bear hug/iron cross bouldering move off a small tufa pipet. Up more blah gray (I thought he said THREE stars?!?) until you start seeing steep orange walls and perfect pockets chiseled by Leonardolopis, Da Vinci's older Greek cousin who never moved beyond sculptures of swiss cheese. Link the pockets and send around a hero bulge with great clips and great exposure.
At this point you'll swear you're back at Rifle. Except that you have good feet and fresh guns and there's nary a snotty ranger tagging your car with some bullshit parking ticket.
Fire up the endless headwall until the air starts thinning and you can see the curvature of the planet. Clip the chains, and now start figuring out how the hell you're gonna reenter the earth's atmosphere with that midget of a 60m rope you brought. (I hear rumors that a 70 well managed can bring you back down to the ground. Sorta/kinda.)
Fantastic warm-up. May feel VERY soft for the grade, but that's typical for a Boris, Claude, and Yves route. (Really? Who the hell saddles their children with "Boris," "Claude," and/or "Yves," anyway? Is'n't "Yves" a Mongolian strain of TB or something? Yves. Honestly.)
Zagori starts with a bang. Work up to the first bolt from the left with a bear hug/iron cross bouldering move off a small tufa pipet. Up more blah gray (I thought he said THREE stars?!?) until you start seeing steep orange walls and perfect pockets chiseled by Leonardolopis, Da Vinci's older Greek cousin who never moved beyond sculptures of swiss cheese. Link the pockets and send around a hero bulge with great clips and great exposure.
At this point you'll swear you're back at Rifle. Except that you have good feet and fresh guns and there's nary a snotty ranger tagging your car with some bullshit parking ticket.
Fire up the endless headwall until the air starts thinning and you can see the curvature of the planet. Clip the chains, and now start figuring out how the hell you're gonna reenter the earth's atmosphere with that midget of a 60m rope you brought. (I hear rumors that a 70 well managed can bring you back down to the ground. Sorta/kinda.)
Fantastic warm-up. May feel VERY soft for the grade, but that's typical for a Boris, Claude, and Yves route. (Really? Who the hell saddles their children with "Boris," "Claude," and/or "Yves," anyway? Is'n't "Yves" a Mongolian strain of TB or something? Yves. Honestly.)
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