"For rock climbers, the Fisher Towers are both a place of inspiration and terror. The large spires are gigantic and intimidating... These climbs are serious mud affairs that last for days... The exposure and fear factor on most Fisher routes is tremendous--lots of hanging belays and big air, funky belay bolts, scary rappels, and mud and dirt that manage to fill every pore, crevice, and crack in your body.
Almost all of the routes in the Fishers are big aid lines that require multiday ascents and big racks. Few of the routes are clean aid; for those that are clean, you need cunning and skill to meet their sandy challenges."
- Stewart Green
Sitting at the back end of the Fisher Towers and next to the mighty Titan, the Oracle sits neglected. The small notch between it and the upper canyon rim gives a first impression that it isn't much of a tower at all, until a closer inspection reveals that it stands a mighty 700 feet from its base. The vast wall below the summit is one of the largest and thinnest faces in the area, making the Oracle a monolith of mud and stone. Its breathtaking height combined with the fact that the "easy" route is a seldom repeated devious climb, gives the whole tower a flavor of adventure. In the 42 years since the first ascent, there have only been 3 routes established (one of which just went up a few months ago), and only 16 parties have graced its lofty summit. The Fisher Towers climbing legend Harvey Carter established a route over a course of 9 days, and it was the last summit of the big towers for him. He named the climb Fantasia and gave it the "modest" rating of 5.10X A2. The infamous X pitch on the route comes on the second to last pitch and scares many parties away. Climbing this route had not crossed my mind until several months ago when I received a text from my good buddy Noah saying "Let's climb the Oracle!" After a bit of thought, I found myself replying "As long as you lead the 10X pitch. And for the record, I think that you're insane."
Going Nowhere Fast
"I'm going to need some pep." I had called Noah on the drive down to Denver and that was the only thing I was capable of saying.
"What??" he replied, obviously confused.
"I need some pep."
After a long week of work, horrible traffic, and doubts about the gusty forecast, a fast and furious trip to the Fisher Towers was not sounding tremendously appealing. I had full intentions of telling him to cheese off and that I was going home, but of course Noah worked his usually charm, and I continued to slowly make progress toward his house. I pulled in and was greeted but an over-enthusiastic Noah and his buddy David that he had also charmed into coming along. We instantly threw gear into my car, and within minutes were off toward the great dusty west. The usual Fisher banter made the dark drive go relatively painlessly, and we rolled into the all-to-familiar lot at 1:30am.
After another sleepless "night" in the Fisher parking lot, we mindlessly began sorting gear. The dirty mountain of gear slowly disappeared into our already bulging packs, and we laughed as some climbers leaving for Ancient Art gave us shifty glances while trying to decipher what on Earth we were doing. It was clear that our parking lot campsite and excessive pile made them uncomfortable. As we were about to shove off, a lone guy sauntered over to chat. Soon as he showed up, I recognized him as Paul from the year before when Noah and I climbed the Finger of Fate.
"Good morning Paul." I cheerily piped up.
Blank stare, obviously sorting through the files of his brain trying to find a match.
"I met you last year after you guys had climbed World's End. I took the photos of you high on the route."
We spent several minutes chatting and picking his brain about the route we were here to climb. He was obviously enthused for us, and we were lucky to have run into to somebody that has actually climbed the route.
"We'll I'm down camping next to Crusher and Chip. You guys should come down when you get back."
Cool! We shouldered the packs and set off. Heavy loads and the furthest approach of a trade route in the Fishers equals bruised shoulders, but for the most part we enjoyed the hike. Other than stopping at the base of every route and making fun of Noah's pronunciation choices, the approach went relatively quickly, and we soon dropped loads at the base of Fantasia. David opted for the first lead, and Noah the second, so I found myself stoked to have the opportunity to chill out on terra firma while the other two toiled away. Although our current weather looked reasonable, the skies looked chancy and I couldn't help but have doubts. David valiantly worked upward on his first Fishers aid lead, and made good progress up the muddy crack. Soon enough he called off belay and Noah quickly began jugging skyward. As he cruised up the awesome bolt ladder, my spirits started sinking. The winds had picked up and were now howling through the notch between the Titan and the Oracle. I fearfully eyed what was to be my pitch from the safety of the ground and trailed my eyes down to watch Noah's aiders blowing around like they were trying desperately to escape.
Harness on, jugs on, he we go. I started jugging as Noah finished the pitch and arrived just in time to see David shove off up P2. By this point the wind was howling and jugging intense while the wind whipped and filled my eyes with dirt. Somewhere on the jug I managed to smash my hand, and with it my desire to lead the next pitch. I arrived at another surprisingly spacious belay ledge, condemned the pitch, my hand, the wind, and pass over the lead. We all agreed that the wind was too much to continue, so we rappelled down into the tornado of dirt, tied the ropes off and hiked back to the car. As usual, we sat in the Moab Diner and talked frivolously. Back in the Fishers, we were greeted by Paul and we chatted away until Crusher and Chip showed up. Happy to share the evening with such wonderful company, we enjoyed staying up half the night talking.
Don't fall off Noah!
What's that noise?
Shouldn't you at least have one hand on the rope???
Toss another pallet on there!
The next day we woke up late to calm weather and Noah insisted on getting back out to fix pitch 3 before we had to head back home. We re-shouldered the gear and made back for the Oracle. Unfortunately, the wind waited calmly until we arrived at the base of the climb before rekindling to full strength. Once again, faced with hurricane wind, we decided against climbing. I reascended the opening pitch to replace the fixed rope with something better and to tape anything that might rub over an edge. After a half roll of tape and a gusty rappel back down, we carefully anchored the rope in several spots to prevent it from breaking free. We once again hiked back out to the car and then spent a few hours climbing Dunce Rock and Lizard Rock. Later in the day, it was time to retire and head home. Once again, we crammed all our dusty gear into the car and made the long trek back home.
**Mental note: Teaching all day is pretty rough after getting home at 12:30am the night before.
Starting from Scratch
Fast forward two and a half weeks, and I once again found myself sitting in the car on my way back to Denver. My spirits were higher knowing that we had more time and a better forecast, but we had received some bad news. Noah's buddy Jason Haas had gone to the Oracle a few days after we had left in an attempt to be the first person to free Fantasia and had posted a video of P1 without our rope. I contacted him and received a quick reply...
"It (the rope) totally got blown and tangled in the anchor. It looked like you tried to tie it down with a nut? There's one all tangled in the rope. The Brits on the Titan said the ropes got all tangled about 10min after you left. Sorry man, you'll have to relead pitch one. Currently the p2 rope is good but it was really loose so I'd worry about it rubbing if you don't get to it soon. I'd consider bringing a knife and cutting the lines free at this point, they are really tangled."
NUTS! All that work and we had to start back at square one. "All part of the Fisher experience, I guess." was the only reply I could muster.
We once again met at Noah's and made yet another midnight drive to the Fishers. The parking lot "camp spot" had become so familiar that I could almost imagine an indent for my sleeping bag to fit in. We quickly set up and crawled into our dusty bags. Waking up to rain on my face in the middle of the night wasn't a huge surprise, and in fact seemed typical with our luck so far on this trip so far. Fortunately, the rain passed with the night, and before long we were stacking sleeping gear into our packs while carefully leaving room for beer. The hike out was miserable with the 70 pound packs, but we frequently stopped to admire the many crazy aid routes that scale the improbable walls above the trail. As the Oracle came into sight, we confirmed that our rope on P1 was MIA, but breathed a sigh of relief that the P2 line was still intact. On the approach, the stormy weather from the previous night had slowly been creeping back into the sky and suddenly we were in a race to re-climb the opening pitch before the rain hit. Noah quickly set up his lawn chair (priorities!) and put me on belay as I slowly worked up the mud. Other than a battle with a heinous offwidth mid-pitch and my fear of free climbing at the end, the pitch went relatively smoothly. As usual, Mother nature had perfect timing and happily sent the weather as David and Noah quickly jugging. Small drops started to fall and I looked over my shoulder to see misty fingers of moisture crawling toward us. I looked down to see the marvelous pretzel that the wind had tied our rope into and I worked ferociously to untie it. Success! The rope finally regained its original shape just as Noah reached the anchors and the rain became hail as the storm neared. Concerned that the wind had a hidden ace up its sleeve, we feared that it had left our rope but had sawed it against the rock enough to damage it. Not wanting to risk it, I put Noah on belay and he clipped the bolts as he ascended into the storm. He quickly dispatched the pitch and although the rope looked "Ohhhhhkaaaayyyy", we decided to replace it and we retreated to find shelter from the rain.
We sat in a small cave and chatted about the Oracle's moody personality. First wind and then rain! What was next? Minutes became hours, and just as we gave up hope, the rain started to slow down. We walked out from the tower with hopes of spying the traversing pitches and the mysterious 10X pitch without much luck. After a few minutes Noah cheerily declared, "Let's do pitch three!" I looked on like he was insane and was shocked to hear David happily concur. "The free moves are below an overhang. They'll be TOTALLY DRY!!" With that they were off, and before I knew it they were jugging upward. As they ascended, the weather cleared and blue skies started to peek out from their shroud. I watched from below as David quickly worked up the pitch and sailed through the free section into the upper crack. Breathing a sigh of relief I also jugged up to hang out with Noah, and we spent the time chatting about the marvelous view of the other towers. As dusk approached, David howled from the ridge and called "Off Belay!" Noah and I high-fived each other and were both ecstatic to finally be higher on the tower than pitch 2. David cleaned the route on rappel, and before long we all sat drinking beers and watching the sunset light the towers ablaze. We all retired early and sat watching the stars and the outlines of the monstrous peaks around us.
"Dude! The Titan looks like..." my voice trailed off.
"SATAN!" David quickly finished my sentence.
"Oh no. Now I'm going to have nightmares and see giant red eyes open up!" Noah laughed.
"As long as it doesn't rain again tonight I'll be happy." I replied, and then rolled over and went to sleep.
What's worse than rain? HAIL!
As it always does, the morning came far too soon and we were groggily jugging the lines before the sun was on us. Other than dodging chunks of falling mud and a brief mishap with my lower-out line getting stuck, we all arrived at the upper ridge without much fuss. Noah immediately began the start of the "Traverse of the Gargoyles" and was already aiding into the unknown by the time I arrived at the belay. He had been adamant on leading this pitch as the final belay was an odd slung hourglass at an airy perch nicknamed the "Eye of the Oracle". The first piece was an old pecker pounded into the crack but where to go from there was a mystery. Noah moved up onto a small ledge, but the way appeared impossible from below. Finally, he committed to a small ledge system and disappeared around the corner. The rope suddenly began moving (not common in aid climbing!) and before long Noah called off belay. As David and I congratulated each other that the pitch went quickly and that we would cruise the traverse we heard "Brian!!! You better put on your free climbing shoes!!!" Oh lord, I knew that Noah would only say that if it was going to be some serious business. I had flashbacks to the scary traverse on Ship Rock but hoped this would be better. I laced up my shoes as David quickly worked through the pitch and before long I was on belay. Some creative tensioning allowed me to gain easier ground and I moved onward until turning the corner. The view was intimidating, Noah and David sat perched on the fluted ridge a good 20 feet above me with the rope sagging into oblivion between us.
"What the hell do I do??" I called up, puzzled.
"Work up and then traverse over. Don't fall." came echoing back. Another classic Noah response!
Ok! I carefully climbed up and delicately traversed over on undercut terrain to a larger ledge. A short chimney led to the fabulous sloping belay stance at a series of small arches that peered out to the other towers. The traverse had freaked me out and I was in no mood to lead the next pitch. Thankfully David quickly volunteered and set off into more traversing terrain. He made good time until turning the corner, when the obvious path quickly disappeared. I belayed slack in and out as David scoped out a variety of options and soon the rope fell still. Noah and I chatted about our incredible stance until it dawned on me that the rope hadn't moved in a long time.
"David!" I called out.
"What?" came back immediately.
"Are you ok?"
Silence came back in response.
"Are you ok??" I shouted back louder than before.
More silence. Noah and I glanced at each other suspiciously and we both knew something weird was going on. After another 30 minutes of the silent treatment it was time to ask again. This time Noah called out.
"What the hell is going on over there???"
A garbled answer came back about being stuck trying to aid up a muddy crack. Then a few minutes later David called back "I'm going to go back and bring you guys over."
The rope started moving back in and before long we were on belay and once again climbing along the ridge. More wild traversing and a short chimney crammed us onto a tiny ledge barely big enough for two. We found out that David had followed the topo and climbed up to this point, had tensioned right but saw nothing, so downclimbed the chimney and continued traversing. Dirty and exposed free climbing had put him into a muddy seam that led up but he'd had trouble getting gear in the mud so rightfully assumed he was off-route, and went back to a bolt and brought us over. I opted to continue leading and decided to just go for the pendulum right that the topo showed. Trading gear proved quite the task, and crawling though the other two was not easy. I clipped one of the belay bolts and carefully tensioned right until I could awkwardly sling a horn. David slowly lowered me into the abyss as I continued to tension right until I was able to freeclimb into a muddy pod with a small arch. It turned out that I was in the same spot David had reached, but knowing we had to finish the ridge to even be able to descend the route, I launched upward. 20 feet of tipped out offsets and a crux tricam (all placed in mud) led to better gear and the belay. Noah quickly arrived and as David jugged he belayed me across a wild 4th class ridge to a short downclimb to two spinning bolts. For the first time in the whole climb, the infamous 10X pitch was in full view. Nicknamed the "sloper pitch" it was a seemingly blank face with a single bolt five feet above the notch and nothing else. Doubt instantly flowed into my mind, but as Noah came over he seemed happy to lead it. Noah and I rappelled into the large notch and David stayed above to give a "top rope" while Noah climbed. I sorted through gear and only passed a couple cams and a few slings to Noah, a seemingly impossible rack compared to the monstrous one we'd been carrying. Within moments, Noah started up, clipped the bolt and moved effortlessly though the crux. He hooted as he made the crux dyno to a blind placement, and five minutes later he sat atop the infamous pitch.
David joined me in the notch and we left most of our gear with the exception of what we'd need for the final pitch. We joined Noah at the small ledge and we both encouraged David that he should lead the final pitch as it was his first big Fisher summit and that it was "only a bolt ladder". Soon, David set off across a narrow sidewalk to a single bolt where he had to throw the tag line over a large horn. Some rope trickery was required, and a few frustrating minutes later he was triumphantly at the first bolt of the ladder. Unfortunately, the bolt ladder proved to have some oddly spaced bolts, and there was some confusion on how to reach some of them. Fortunately for us, aid climbing up the last pitch equals a wonderful loss of ethics, and the stick clip came out to save the day. David continuously worked upward, stick-clipping the longer bolts, and before long he hollered from the summit. For the first time in the entire trip, we knew that we'd make the summit. Noah and I high-fived each other and began jugging simultaneously toward the top. The incredibly exposed jug proved quite exciting, and we both were happy to top out on the summit plateau. The summit proved to be a small ridge with two bumps of rock and I was surprised to see that the top was covered in mud. It seemed to me that it would all wash away after a few rains, just exposing the rock underneath. The final 4th class moves to the top were exciting and there was barely enough room to hold all three of our butts. We were all smiles as we took in the incredible views and flipped through the small register reading all of the names. It seemed that Crusher had made a list to figure out how many times the Oracle had been climbed, and according to the contents we were the 16th party to reach the summit and the 11th party to climb Fantasia. Not very many parties considering the first ascent was in 1970. After soaking it all in for close to a half hour, the thought of descending in the dark pulled us back to reality. We put our harnesses back on and David quickly threaded the ropes and launched into thin air. Noah and I soon followed and what I feared to be a scary, traversing rappel, proved to go easily. A short rappel put us back in the notch from earlier, and we loaded ourselves back up with our stashed gear and prepared to rappel into the intimidating "Gastrointestinal Chimney".
According to the very little existing information on the route, the first rappel into the GI Chimney would be a 65 meter rappel and extending the rappel is essential or "downclimbing will be necessary." The anchor in the notch appeared good and there was already about 20 feet of good looking 10mm chord dropped into the chimney. For redundancy, we fixed 25 feet of 11mm static cord from one of the bolts and tied the other end to the masterpoint. I opted to go first into the unknown, and rappelled down our fixed line on a grigri until I was able to get on rappel on the extended ropes. Dropping into the hole was eerie and name "Gastrointestinal Chimney" was fitting. It was easy to imagine myself traveling through the guts of some great stone beast. I slowly passed numerous bulges as I carefully walked down, and the walls were coated with several inches of mud. As I moved by the halfway mark on the ropes I started to get nervous. I could see the ends of the rope dangling into space with no anchor in site. I continued to slowly work down and as I neared the end of the line, the anchor finally appeared. It was hidden on the side of the wall under a small bulge and was completely camouflaged with mud. Ever so carefully I lowered to within a half-foot of the end of the rappel line, and was able to reach below me to clip my back up to the anchor as I rappelled off the end of the rope. I blew a gigantic sigh of relief and called off rappel. All I could do as the others rappelled was put my head down and take the barrage of dirt that came funneling down the chimney. The light was failing quickly, but Noah soon came down and finally David, and after the ropes were pulled we endured close to 30 seconds of dirt showering down from above. We instantly threaded the anchor and I took off as soon as possible. Once again, I was fearful that I had to find another hard-to-see anchor and it was almost too dark to see (I had a headlamp though!). As I lowered passed another bulge, I looked down to see a glorious sight. The ropes were on the ground! I flew down the rest of the rappel and crowed like I had just won the lottery. The others touched down within minutes and we pulled the ropes in the dark. We all limped over to our dusty bags and all immediately cracked a beer. We spent the rest of the night replaying the day to each other and laughing under the stars.
Where do I go George?? Where do I goooo???
Eye of the Oracle
The Sloper Pitch
Ready to swim laps on the summit.
Bowels of the Beast
Who knew there was a Whole Foods out here?
The hike out was glorious. We woke up "late", and did our best to eat all of the food and drink all of the water. There were groans all around as we shouldered the bulging packs, but we didn't complain as we knew this would be the last time we'd walk the now familiar trail. We were all mentally and physically exhausted, but we floated back out to the car knowing that we'd done it. The day hikers looked at us like we had the plague, and we enjoyed smiling back. "I bet we smell terrible!" was Noah's theory and it made perfect sense. We eyeballed Cottontail on the way out and started chatting about coming back for our last of the big towers. As we watched 3 parties crawl over each other on Ancient Art, I found it funny that I'd never been to the summit of the only frequented climb in the area. I remembered two weeks earlier when a climber came up to us and asked what we were climbing. "The Oracle!" we cheerily replied. He looked at blankly and replied "Which one's that? The only one I know is Ancient Art." The final hill crushed my knees but lifted my spirits and we quickened the pace. The air was crisp and it was obvious spring was in the air. I took one look back at the towers and found myself staring at Cottontail thinking...
"I'll be back."
"...the soft rock isn't particularly suited to rock climbing. But somewhere between standing at the base of these grotesquely shaped, wind and water carved monoliths, and standing on their summits, is a priceless encounter with true grit."
- Bill Forrest 1972
---------------------------------------------------------------------- Here is a video that Noah made of the climb...
P1 - 5.7 C1+ - The start is obvious and it's muddy from the start. Make a few free moves up to meet the crack then aid up until it is possible to mantel onto a small, rubble covered ledge. From here, walk to the back and begin aiding up the leftmost crack. It starts small, turns a small bulge and enters a flaring offwidth. Battle upward while leapfrogging the #5 and #6 until the crack narrows and ends at a roof. Free climb directly right on small yet positive ledges, enter the mud chimney and stem up until it is possible to clip a bolt. Aid up a few bolts to a nice belay ledge. 120'
P2 - 5.8 C0 - Make several tricky free moves up from the belay to reach the first bolt. Aid up the reachy bolt ladder until the bolts end, then make a poorly protected 5.8 mantel onto an awkward ledge to reach the next bolt. Several more bolts lead up then you free climb to the left to reach a comfy ledge and another good belay anchor. Note the cool thread holes drilled through the arete here. 90'
P3 - 5.8 C2 - Once again, make several free moves up the arete to reach the first bolt. Aid up the bolt ladder until the bolts run out below a small ledge system. Free climb up onto the ledge, then carefully traverse right (slinging horns for pro) until you reach a bolt in a small pod. Make a few more free moves up the muddy pod, until it is possible to start aiding up the steep crack above. Follow it until it ends at a small ledge on the upper ridge. Make sure to save the large gear for the final moves to the anchor. 130'
P4 - 5.8R C2 - Make a few moves of aid (fixed specter) on the north side of the ridge until it is possible to start free climbing. Carefully work up and onto the south (right) side of the ridge. The moves look very improbable and the protection is poor so use caution. Free up a small arete until it is possible to make some thin moves right to a larger ledge. Chimney up between two of the gargoyles and belay at a threaded hourglass (Eye of the Oracle). Best to belay your seconds instead of fixing the rope. 60'
P5 - 5.7R - Continue traversing free climbing on the south side of the ridge across a series of small horns and ledges until you reach a bolt. Chimney up between two more gargoyles and belay at 2 more bolts. This pitch is short and could likely be combined with the next one but rope drag would be a serious issue. Best to belay your seconds instead of fixing the rope. 50'
P6 - C2++ - From the bolt, tension traverse right until possible to awkwardly sling a horn. Clip the rope to the horn and continue lowering/tensioning until you can free climb into a small, mud-filled pod with a small tunnel that goes through to the other side of the ridge. Aid carefully up a steep, flaring and mud-filled crack. Offsets and tricams are key here and some C3 placements lead to a #5 and #6 then a 2 pin belay on a nice ledge. The old topo calls this C1, but it's not. 50'
P6.5 - 4th class - Walk across a small exposed sidewalk and downclimb to a hidden rappel anchor. 2 spinning bolts, a wrench might make you feel better. Make a 50' rappel down into a small notch at the top of the GI chimney. 20'
P7 - 5.10X - Step high and clip a good bolt. Climb carefully upward on crumbly holds to reach a stance where you can place a #4 and #5 in a small pod. From here, superman (dyno) to a hidden jug on the right and move onto another ledge. Falling is a very bad idea here. Work up left and you can clip a old bolt above you on the final ledge and carefully mantel up to another good belay ledge/anchor. 60'
P8 - 5.8 C1++ - Walk across a narrow and exposed sidewalk to reach a bolt at the base of a large horn. Step high on the bolt and toss the tag line over the horn. Have your belayer anchor the tagline, and ascend it to reach the top of the horn. Carefully freeclimb up to the first bolt and bust out the etriers. Several bolts lead up to a "stopper free move" and you have the choice of busting a 5.10 move out of your aiders or stick clipping the next bolt. Continue up the reachy bolt ladder utilizing either your freakish ability to topstep, or stickclipping skills until you reach an obvious crack. Make a few gear placements up the crack and then lasso a thin horn until you are able to stickclip the first bolt on the final face. Just a couple more bolts put you on the summit plateau and another good anchor. From here it's possible to untie and carefully boulder up exposed 4th class to the airy summit. 130'
Rap 1: From the summit anchors, make an airy double rope rappel down to the belay ledge above the 10X pitch. You have to walk back along the exposed edge to reach the anchors. Although not hard, a slip will leave you dangling on the face below so use care.
Rap 2: Make a single rappel down the 10X pitch to the notch at the top of the dark and scary looking "gastrointestinal chimney".
Rap 3:BE CAREFUL! This is approximately a 65M rappel and you MUST extend the anchor close to 25 feet. I would err on the longer side. Use ingenuity to thread the extended anchor and get onto rappel. We fixed an addition strand so we could rappel single strand down to the extended anchor and then get on rappel. Carefully work down the steep, dark and muddy chimney keeping a sharp eye out for the anchors. The anchor is on the side of the wall and not easy to see from above. It is immediately below a large bird's nest in the back of the GI chimney. I was able to clip one bolt of the anchor from above about a half of a foot before I came of the end of the ropes. Other route descriptions mention downclimbing, but please don't listen to them or count on that. The chimney is vertical and filled with mud and sand. In my opinion downclimbing would not be a possibility and if you fall you will die. Sorry to be dramatic, but I felt this was potentially one of the most dangerous parts of the climb.
Rap 4: One more double rope rappel down the mud chimney will put you on the ground. Yay!
TCUs: 00 - 4, with an extra 1
C4s: 0.4, 0.5-2(x3), 3-4(x2), 5, 6
Offset Mastercams: 0-5
Single set stoppers
Single set offset stoppers (likely could be avoided)
Single set tricams (red and black were only ones placed but red was crucial on P6)
Lots of slings (long ones crucial for lassoing), draws and screamers
2 60M ropes are required for the descent.
*****Also, the first rappel down the GI Chimney requires about a 25 foot extension to reach the next belay. You will not make it without extending the
rappel and downclimbing would be a grim option. As of April 2013 the extension was in good shape and we placed another cord to rap down to get
on the other rappel. I would not count on it being there so come prepared. You will die if you fall off the ends of your rope here. Be careful!!!
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