El Capitan Series

This is a series of four write-ups that I did about climbing on El Capitan. The first three adventures were training/recon trips to get ready for our all out assault on the Nose, which is documented in part 4.

Misadventures On El Cap, Part 1: Waterfalls

Misadventures on El Cap II: Pendulums and Stovelegs

Misadventures on El Cap, Part III: Free Blast

Adventure on El Capitan: Time To Pick The Nose

Well, Lou and I sure got our butts kicked by the Captain this weekend. It was a very humbling experience that has us rethinking our plans for the Nose. We still want to do it, but need more experience and practice.

Since we only planned to go up to Sickle Ledge and descend, we got a lackadaisical start at 11 a.m. Our primary goal was for Lou to practice leading and try out our new wall hauler. Our haul bag didn't contain that much: food, water, clothes, extra hardware, the guidebook, and, on a whim, I threw in another rope.

Lou was slow. He didn't find placements very quickly and didn't gain much altitude with each placement. His technique needs some refinement and some more practice. Aid climbing is not naturally and takes time to get a good system. In his defense, the climbing was difficult A2 and climbing on El Cap is quite intimidating.

It took us about two hours to get everything to the top of pitch one. I lead the next pitch which started with some 5.9 free climbing and then a pendulum to an A2 crack which ended in a hanging belay. My ankle held up fine by ached later that night. I was at that hanging belay for two hours and fifteen minutes while Lou followed and then led the third pitch.

When Lou arrived at the top of the third pitch he yelled down that the climb was probably over because the next crack had water running down it. By the time I got up there the water flow had increased. It ran right down and through our belay. Our feet were getting soaked. The pitch above was the A3 crux of the day and it was soaked. It involved a couple of pendulums across a slab that had running water all over it. It didn't look possible and after some debate we decided retreat was in order. It was now past 4:30 p.m.

Since the route ascended on a strong slant it wasn't possible to descend the route without down aiding a good bit of it. Lou thought that because this was such a popular route that there must be descent anchors and a way to retreat from the top of every pitch. I had some doubts, but I was now cold and it was getting late, so I rappeled down 150 feet looking for some anchors. Nothing!! Just more water pouring on me. No fixed anchors, hardly any cracks and those there were rotten! It would take at least three or four friends to make me feel comfortable...with no chance of retrieving them. I jumared back up the ropes to the belay. Jumared through the waterfall. Now I was wetter, colder, and still 450 feet off the ground.

The water was now gushing strongly over our belay soaking our legs. It was getting dark and things were starting to get pretty serious. We had to get out of here fast. We didn't have any headlamps with us and couldn't spend the night up here without any ledge at all! Both Lou and I came to the same conclusion...We had three ropes and if we tied them all together we could get the hell out of here. We couldn't retrieve the ropes of course, but we would worry about that tomorrow. So out came the ropes and we tied them all together. We tied the haul bag to the end of the third rope and lowered to the ground. Then I started down.

Just pulling up the rope was a chore as the combined weight of the soaked ropes had to be more than 30 pounds. Initially the friction was so great that you had to force the rope through the rappel device. When I got down to the first knot I started to think how we were going to get by the knots. I concluded that it was impossible to do without the benefit of two jumars (and retrieve the jumars) and since Lou only had one I had to leave mine here. I hooked on the jumar right above the knot and sat down on it. With my weight off the rappel device I removed it and replaced it on the rope after the knot. Then I pulled up on the jumar with one hand and unclipped it from my harness, then I fell three feet down to where my rappel device caught me. Now the jumar was out of reach above me.

I continued on down to the second knot. About thirty feet above the knot I noticed a small ledge. I thought that if I stopped there I wouldn't need to deal with the jumar at all. I stepped onto the ledge and when I took my weight off the rope, twenty feet of rope passed through my rappel device up towards the belay. I pulled up the third rope and anchored it to the second rope at this point so that I could put my rappel device onto the third rope. With that done I now had to step off the ledge and continue down. I knew when I did this that I would fall a long way for there was 300 feet of rope above me that would stretch. I stepped off and zinged maybe thirty feet down. I clutched the rope tightly and closed my eyes in fear. I came to a bouncing stop and then continued rappelling to the ground. With 450 feet of rope above me the rope is so bouncy! Your position dramatically changes even if you slightly unweight the rope by stepping on a ledge.

Lou followed and laboriously down jumared around the knots. When he hit the ground it was pretty dark and we were soaked. We packed up the gear and left the ropes hanging. We headed to a warm fire to dry out and regroup.The next morning we were back. The Captain frowned down upon us. I couldn't help but wonder what he as thinking...

Lou started jumaring at 8:30 (really 9:30...we forgot about the time change.) He made it up there in only 30 minutes. Now it was my turn. I jumared for twenty feet but was still on the ground due to rope stretch. Finally I broke the bond with terra firma and started up. Things went smoothly until I got to a forty foot free hanging section which was a son-of-a-bitch because, with nothing to brace your feet against, you had to use your arms to gain altitude. I just about died on this section, making progress at a snail's pace. I had to rest after reach movement of the jumar. I eventually made the belay stance and clipped into everything in sight. It was pretty scary being dependent on the jumars for so long.

Another pair of climbers were cruising up the Nose. They were freeing each pitch and would soon be upon us. We decided to wait for them because we would be slow leading the A3 pitch above us. The pitch was still a bit wet, but was getting drier every minute. When the climbers arrived, we asked them to haul our rope up the pitch for us -- our pride and dignity, whatever was left after the fiasco the day before, had completely vanished as we begged for help. They graciously complied with our request and we were soon on Sickle Ledge. From here we were able to make four double rope rappels to the ground. Each of the rappel stations had four or five bolts, but none of them had even a nubbin to stand on. It was quite painful hanging in my harness, so I hooked up a sling to stand in. The descent went smoothly and we drove out of the valley with our tails between our legs.

We will be back, but with a lot more respect and a couple more practice sessions before we try the complete ascent. We were way to slow with the aid climbing. I know realize how much harder this climb is than Half Dome. It is MUCH harder. Half Dome is 2200 feet. El Cap is 3100. Half Dome has seven aid pitches, El Cap has twenty. We feel that we need to complete Free Blast first and do another reconnaissance on the Nose itself. The party that past us was headed up to Dolt tower that day and then rappelling off. We need to do something like that also. If we did at least eight pitches we could descend the Dolt Tower rappel route. The top of Dolt tower is twelve pitches up. That would be a great day, but I don't think we are fast enough. The most time consuming part is the first four pitches.

Determined to learn from our previous mistakes, Lou and I returned to the Nose this past weekend. Our plan was to fix lines to Sickle Ledge on Saturday and then on Sunday push the route higher to reconnoiter the difficulties for a complete ascent later this month.

Instead of starting at 11 a.m. as we did previously, this time I was leading the first pitch at 8 a.m. The first pitch is 5.10d which is above my redpointing ability, but I was able to "french free" the pitch and avoid the aiders (except for the very tricky first 20 feet.) Instead of more than two hours, we did the first pitch in under an hour. We were hauling again because we had food, water, clothes, and two additional ropes to fix lines back to the ground. As Lou started cleaning the first pitch another three man party arrived and had begun leading before Lou got to the first belay. This party had a typical first experience with the Nose. They never got higher than the pendulum slings on the second pitch. Lou and I watched them from El Cap Meadow after we had already descended from Sickle Ledge!

Things went well for us as Lou had no trouble with the second pitch and I "french freed" the third 5.10c pitch. Lou started up the "A3" fourth pitch by 11 a.m. Now things got a bit tougher. This pitches involves some mandatory free climbing and a dicey tension traverse.

There is nothing A3 about this pitch anymore. I thought there was some hooking, but that isn't the case. Unfortunately, we still had trouble. Lou clipped into the pendulum anchor too low initially and when he tensioned out about twenty feet to a stance there was no pro. He tried to move upward toward a fixed wired but peeled! The fall was relatively painless except for ripping up his finger.

I should mention at this time that I was carrying a video camera and we shot some video of our ascent. As I was tensioning Lou out with one hand, I was shooting video with the other hand. He stood out there for quite awhile and my arm got tired so I stopped videoing saying, "Don't do anything exciting without giving me some warning. I don't want to miss capturing it on video." Seconds later he peeled and I did indeed miss it. Damn!

Lou swarmed back up, clipped in higher and completed the traverse. At that point, I'm looking up at him and something doesn't look right. What could it be? "Oh, Lou... You don't have the haul line..." "Shit!" Now here was a real dilemma. Many options. I could jug with the haulbag suspended from my harness, but that would suck especially with the two pendulums I had to follow -- which I had never done before. I could just unclip the haulbag and leave it there while I cleaned dragging the haul line. There are many problems with this idea. Since we only had a stance and not really a ledge the haulbag could dislodge and fall 150 feet before coming tight on my harness and yanking me off the rock. Lou could rappel back down and pendulum back to the belay and reclimb the pitch, but did we have enough rope. Another idea entered my mind. Lou was about thirty or thirty-five feet right of me and maybe 50 feet above me. I told him to pull up all the remaining rope of the lead line, weight it with a bunch of carabiners and try to throw/swing/drop it to me. After numerous tries, I was just barely able to catch the biners. I clipped on the haul line and the problem was solved.

Following that pitch I was slow as I had to figure out how to lower out from a pendulum. It is advantageous to have lots of extra rope when doing this. I didn't quite have enough and took a bit of a swinger, but not too bad. We were on Sickle Ledge by 1 p.m. After some relaxation, we rappeled off and left ropes fixed at reach rappel station. With separate ropes fixed at each station we could jug up simultaneously the next morning (as soon as the lead jugger switches to the next rope the other can start). It also solves some problems with massive rope stretch it they are all tied together.

When we got down we met a few nice climbers from Oregon and I was able to scam a place to stay that night. Clandestine camping is dangerous -- the fee is $75 if you are caught.

We then decided to do some more climbing, but we had left all our gear on Sickle Ledge and four ropes hanging off El Cap. Luckily we had a spare 9mm rope and a few camming devices left in the car. We did the Sunnyside Bench jam crack (5.7, 5.9) and then hit the sleeping bags early.

The next morning we awake at 5 a.m., jugging by 6 a.m. and climbing by 7:20. I lead the 4th class pitch to a small ledge. This would be the last ledge I would stand on until 5:30 p.m. when we reached the ground! That is too long to hang by your harness. Butt bags and aiders help, but it still gets tiring. It is also mentally very tiring to go that long without a ledge. Do others feel this way? I find a ledge with let me mentally relax (somewhat) and recharge for the next pitch.

We left the video camera in the car this time as we wanted to move fast and hoped to be freeing most of the pitches today. It was a good idea.

The next pitch, the 6th, goes up a left facing dihedral and exits right onto a blank face via an overhanging jam crack. This pitch is rated 5.9, but I thought it was harder (then again, I thought almost every pitch was harder than its rating) -- at least for the 15 feet of steep hand crack climbing. At least it didn't last long. The belay is a sling belay, of course. We are still hauling the bag with us because we will not descend this way. The route continually moves to the right (east) as you ascend. It does this via slanting crack systems and pendulums.

After Lou jugs the pitch, he removes his homemade "goat-skin" big wall gloves. Why these must be "goat-skin", I do not know, but they are comfortable. He cut the fingers off the gloves and sewed down the edges. He was quite proud of them. The operative word here is WAS, because he dropped on of them at the top of this pitch. It fluttered away on the wind never to be found again. I don't like dropping things up on a wall like this. Mainly, because they usually don't land near you. This was a harmless thing to drop, but it means we were making mistakes. Not a good place to do that.

Lou gets the next pitch, because, well, Lou is Mr. Pendulum. He has led the three previous pendulums (one on the 2nd, and two on the 4th pitch) and the 7th pitch involves a pendulum into a another large left facing dihedral. From the belay, I lower Lou down thirty feet or so and he makes a few tentative attempts to reach the dihedral. Now, as you look upward from the belay, we have a right facing dihedral on our left (that we just

climbed out of) and we are trying to reach another right facing dihedral on our right. I give you this description so that you can visualize what happens to Lou. He pendulums to the right, but doesn't quite make the crack, so back he comes. He is now directly below and moving slowly to his left. He can see that there is a big dropoff into the other dihedral and tries to stop himself. He is scrambling for anything to grab, but the wall is completely smoothly.

So, in slow motion, he topples over the edge, ass end first, into the other dihedral. I am trying so hard to contain my laughter because it looked so damn funny, but don't know how he is taking it. Then I hear from up out of the dihedral, laughter. I burst out in a chorus of laughter.

Lou emerges and completes the pendulum. Now this is a 5.8 crack and he climbs as high as he dares without protection to ease the following for me. A couple of times I lower him to clean protection so that the rope runs across at an upward angle from my belay. He continues up to a belay in Dolt Hole (basically three bolts on a blank face a little ways out from the dihedral where you can do a bit of chimneying.) Now, its my turn and here I make a big mistake. Underestimating the distance of the pendulum (or overestimating the amount of remaining rope), I don't untie from the end of the rope and instead just loop a doubled end of the rope through the slings in order to lower myself out. This leaves me with four lengths of rope leading back towards the belay (I tied in short also.) The idea here is to lower yourself out until you are across the pendulum and then let go of the extra rope and pull it through the slings. If I had untied from the end of the rope, then I would only have two lengths of rope going back toward the belay and should be able to lower out twice as far. I didn't do this. I won't make that mistake again, because when I ran out of rope I was only halfway across the traverse. I wasn't that distressed as I told Lou, "This is going to be quite a swinger." I just didn't think I would get going that fast, but by the time I slammed into the dihedral I was moving! I thought, "Oh, shit! You're going to bust your ankle again." The impact was jarring, but nothing hurt besides my feet. Stupid.

These annoying hanging belays make change-overs complex and crowded. There never seems to be enough room to organize things neatly -- especially when all the bolts are placed on the same vertical line.

The next pitch was mine and it involved 5.9 (I thought 5.10) hand jams up a dead vertical dihedral with no footholds. Eventually the crack gets too big to except normal pro and a bolt ladder appears on the left wall. This is followed up to a big metal ring which you pendulum from. The previous day, I saw a party attempting this pendulum. They had a heck of a time with it. It is a bit tricky because you have to pendulum about 30 feet to your right (once again), but there is a left facing dihedral there so you must jump over it as you swing back and forth. The guy I watched on the previous day lost his footing just before he was suppose to jump and ended up ramming into the dihedral wall. Ouch! Just like I had done on the earlier pendulum.

I tried the pendulum too high -- hoping to reduce the amount of re-climbing I would have to do. I eventually made it over to the Stoveleg crack by lowering down to the second bolt of the bolt ladder. This is a descent of around fifty feet?

The crack you reach is the infamous Stovelegs. The climbing is suppose to be 5.8, but it looked harder to me -- 5.9. While I am a solid 5.10a crack leader, I didn't like the prospects of having to climb 80 feet up this crack without any protection! This was necessary because of rope drag (remember, I am 50 feet below my pendulum anchor and around the corner of the dihedral) and to ease conditions for the follower. Not wanting to risk the massive fall and a bit unnerved by the position, I aided up the crack like a wimp. It was slow going because I had to back clean every piece and I also wanted two pieces in at all times. I know this must sound ridiculous, but it was scary. This took a long time. The solution to this problem is to lead it with two ropes and use one exclusively up until the pendulum and then switch to the other rope. These forays onto the Nose have been very educational and someday we will deem ourselves ready to tackle the entire climb. This year I hope. This scheme makes things a bit tougher on the second (he has to lower down after the pendulum to clean gear) and it will take a large rack because you are, in essence climbing about 200 feet of rock in one pitch!

Lou followed without any trouble since there was plenty of rope to lower out with. When he got to the belay he promptly dropped a sling. It dropped out of sight. No great loss... The Lube-ster was getting butterfingers and making me nervous.

From our perch at the top of the 8th pitch (hanging from three old bolts the retrofitting did not replace these anchors - and a couple of friends), we could now descend. It was necessary to get over to the Stovelegs because this is where the rappel descent lies. I was pretty whipped and ready to go down, but I wasn't going to suggest it when it wasn't my lead. Lou thought he owed it to himself to do a hard pitch, so he started up the 5.10a 9th pitch. The Stovelegs (at least the two pitches we did) were not simply a hand crack on a smooth wall, but a hand crack buried in a little slot. This made aiding very awkward. Lou decided to aid the pitch and was quite slow. I think it was partially due to fatigue, partially due to fear, partially due to the fact that it was a pain in the ass. It would have been much easier to free climb it, as I found out when I followed (of course, toproping makes you brave.)

Lou was going along okay and I was falling asleep hanging in my butt bag. If it wasn't so damn uncomfortable and a little cold due to the wind, I would have been out. Eventually, Lou yells down, "Watch me, I'm going to try and free this section." He was about 90 feet above me and he launched into a layback to avoid the offwidth section up top (later I found this to be the hardest free climbing on the entire pitch. Why he chose to free climb this section is beyond me, but it may have something to do with the dreadful awkwardness of aiding it.) He climbed up about ten feet and then tried to fling himself back into the slot. There appeared (falsely) to be a foothold on the edge at this point. Then, in an instant, he was tumbling toward him! Bam! He catches his leg on the slot and it spins him upside down. There goes his glasses! Luckily, the gear stays with him. He has a banged elbow and a nasty, bleeding bruise on his shin. "You okay?" I yell. "%$#@!*&%#$," says Lou before answering affirmatively. He rights himself and swarms (Lou always seems to "swarm" after a fall... Or maybe that is just how I write it) back up the rope for another try...Same thing! Identical fall. "&^%$#@#$@!!" Now he comes to his senses and finishes the pitch on aid.

I free the pitch as I clean it, but take the identical fall he did while trying to layback the slot. I then asked to be lowered down and climbed it offwidth style -- it sucked, but I didn't fall this time. I was just trying to gain additional knowledge for our next attempt. We could definitely climb these last two pitches must faster the next time around. We are improving each time we go up there. When I reached the belay we came to mutual agreement on retreat. That was the originally plan anyway, we just thought we might get higher. It was about 3 p.m.

The descent was a royal pain in the ass because of the complete lack of even a foothold at each rappel station; because the rappel points zigzag across the face; because of the wind; because of the haulbag that was hanging from my harness. Actually the haulbag wasn't that bad because it wasn't that heavy. It certainly made things more efficient than lowering the bag. At one point Lou looks down and says, "Looks like about two more rappels." I give him one of my patented you've-got-to-be-kidding stares and say, "Lou, we have at least five rappels to go and probably six." The altitude is deceptive, but we were 1000 feet up! It took us nine rappels to descend.

From this latest adventure we have many ideas for improvements. We need to lead on two ropes (at least for the Stoveleg Pendulum pitch). We need more big pro. We know how to follow the pendulums now. We also need to duck tape Lou's glasses to his head...

We also need to get into better shape. We should be able to make it, but are postponing our attempt because of lack of time to prepare -- mentally, physically, and logistically. We are rescheduling the attempt for the Fall.

We should be in good shape after Free Blast, DNB, Liberty Ridge, Liberty Crack, and the Grand Teton. MAYBE...we will be ready then. This is a tough climb!

Next weekend, a change of pace: A one day attempt on Casaval Ridge on Mt. Shasta. Any suggestions? We were going to forgo a rope and plan to ski down Avalanche Gulch. We'll see if we have any better luck with mountaineering.

Misadventures on El Cap, Part III: Free Blast

For the seventh time this year, I found myself heading out to Yosemite. The spring had been a stormy one, but this first weekend in June was beautiful! My girlfriend, Sheri, and I headed out to the "not-so-secret" spot by the side of highway 140. The bright moon woke me early and we headed into the Valley.

Our objective was Via Aqua. This is a recommended (by the green Yosemite guidebook) 5.7 route that starts well up the Yosemite Falls trail and traverses out onto the vertical face to the west of the falls. The route finishes at the railing overlooking the 1600+ foot drop of the second highest waterfall in the world. It sounded like such an exciting climb and since 5.7 is in Sheri's range we decided to give it a try.

We were hiking by 7 a.m. under clear skies and quickly warming temperatures. The approach seems to take you almost completely up the Upper Yosemite Falls trail. This steep hike took us about an hour and a half, but was quite enjoyable in the cooler morning. When we were later descending we saw numerous people that looked miserable with the effort of the steep trail in the afternoon heat.

We didn't have much trouble locating the ledge that leads out from the trail, around the corner and out onto the face. This ledge quickly becomes VERY exposed. We stopped to put on climbing shoes and harnesses and Sheri got freaked.

She knew it would be exposed, but she just wasn't ready for a several hundred foot traverse on a narrow, loose ledge with 1000 feet of sheer exposure!! I couldn't really blame her. It was unnerving. I went a little further (to the start of Aqua Mist -- another climb in the area) and wouldn't want to go any further without a belay. At this point the ledge goes sharply downward and it quite loose. It seems that the crux of this climb is getting to it! I have heard the last pitch of Royal Arches described as "exposed" (for a moderate climb), but this is world class exposure. Has anyone done this route or know anything about it? I will try again later this year with a more experienced partner. We decided to bag it and continue the hike.

We continued up the trail to the top of the falls so that I could fully burn my entire body. By the time I got down I was a lobster. The next day (Sunday) I was planning on climbing Free Blast with my partner, Lou, so we would be the Loobster/Lobster climbing team.

Sheri was to return to San Jose that night and Lou was to drive out and meet me, but before Sheri left I thought I would fix the first pitch of Free Blast (the first ten pitches of the Salathe Wall on El Capitan). Heck, I hadn't done any climbing that day anyway and the Loobster and I had been getting our asses kicked so regularly by El Cap that I thought any advantage should be taken.

To my delight, I onsite flashed the 5.10c first pitch. This was only my 4th flash of a 5.10c. I didn't think the pitch was that bad because there were footholds every once in awhile to stand on while placing pro. This is an extremely long pitch. Sheri had to climb up a ways for me to reach the belay. Later that night I met the Loobster and we got the gear ready before crashing. We are now in the habit of giving El Cap a lot of respect so we were up by 5 a.m. and jugging the fixed line before 7 a.m. I wore only a tank top (the only shirt I had with me -- boo!) and shorts. This allowed me to really finish off the job of frying myself. I also forgot to bring kneepads. This wasn't that big of a mistake since Lou was leading the two aid pitches, but would have come in handy at the four hanging belays. We carried three quarts of water.

Lou led the very tricky "5.8" second pitch. This is a wide hand crack in a very smooth wall. It wouldn't be so bad if the damn crack didn't slant. This ends in another hanging belay. The third pitch is 5.11b which means aid for Lou and I. Actually, the aid is only about 20 feet as you traverse under this roof and then it is 5.7 free climbing. Lou made quick work of the pitch and I jugged up after him. The next pitch is a beautiful 5.10b thin crack that protects very nicely. I flashed this also and things were going great. A little too great...as usual, things don't go great for us too long.

The next pitch is 5.10d, but is so difficult to protect that Lou aided it and it is mostly tricky placements. The pitch goes up a pin scared crack until the crack disappears. Then mandatory 5.9 free climbing leads up and left to a couple of bolts. Then you have to go back right. Lou backcleaned the bolts on the left by tension traversing back and by lowering himself down. Now Lou is at two bolts (one horrendous and the other okay) with a bunch of slings tied to them. Is this the belay? Heck, I don't know. The topo isn't very clear here (it is actual a bit wrong) and we don't think he has enough rope to make the next set of slings, so he does a very scary hanging belay.

I clean the pitch on jumars -- thankful for Lou's backcleaning (this backcleaning is absolutely essential if you want to make the actual belay 30 feet up. I start leading the next pitch which starts out with a 15 - 20 foot runout of 5.9 - 5.10a face climbing to a bolt. Lou tells me, "Don't fall," as he looks at the shitty bolts that are our only connection to the wall. I delicately make the bolt and clip in with a sigh of relief. The climbing eases a bit for the next 15 feet up to the actual belay stance. Here there are three bolts and a couple of footholds. We definitely will try for this stance next time. When I reach this belay, we briefly consider moving the belay, but I say, "It is only 30 feet or so. How long can this pitch be?" Unfortunately, I had to use 180 feet of rope on this pitch and I still didn't make the belay! What? How did he do that?

I proceeded up the 5.10b face pitch and thought it to be extreme. I had to grab a couple of slings and couldn't do one section. I fell a couple of times trying it. This is a blank face with no way to aid. I didn't bring any hooks and don't know if they would have been useful. Not many edges, mostly smooth dishes. I thought we would have to turn back, but then I noticed a sling way off to the right. I had to go left to reach the ledges, but I couldn't climb the face. By climbing to the sling on the right I could batman up the sling, clip in, and tension traverse back. I did this and was able to clip a piton. Then I stood in a sling to reach a bolt higher up, backcleaning the pin. Now I had to do some more mandatory face climbing. The face climbing was difficult and the rope drag was tremendous. I reached the broken ledges and started climbing up -- I could see the belay 40 feet further. At this point I ran out of rope. We had been dragged another rope for the descent and Lou suggested that he tie the ropes together. This would give me another 20 feet -- until the knot hit the first piece of protection. With that added rope length I wasn't able to make the belay, but I was able to reach a good crack where I threw in a stopper and a couple of friends for a bomber belay. My feet were hurting so bad from my tight shoes and the awful smearing I had been doing. I immediately took them off. What a relief! Lou jugged the pitch and had an interesting time with the traverses.

We moved the belay up to the real top of the sixth pitch and took a water/food break. Things had slowed down considerably, but it was still only 12:45 p.m. We had four pitches to go. Lou led the next 5.9 pitch which wasn't that bad. Of course, he did encounter some loose rock and managed to bombard me with a few fist sized projectiles that I, luckily, dodged. The pitch ends right underneath the Half Dollar -- a huge overhang which you traverse underneath and around. The belay is from two pins driven straight up and a sling wrapped around a rock that is wedged in the crack separating the Half Dollar from the wall. Another hanging belay for Lou, but he looked comfy in his butt bag with padded knees up against the wall.

At this point we both experienced forearm cramping. This has only happened to me once before. I don't know what caused it. I didn't feel especially tired or pumped. We had been drinking water and Gatorade. I even had a bit to eat. Strange. It would only happen when you bent your hand down toward your forearm like when clipping a carabiner or doing certain jamming holds.

I started out on the infamous Half Dollar pitch. It starts out as 5.10b and then, supposedly goes into a 5.8 chimney/flare. I couldn't quite free the 5.10b section and had to grab a couple of slings. Now I found myself in the Mother of all Flares. It sucked, but it didn't suck me in. It tried to spit me out. It was vertical V-slot with solitary crack in the back and smooth walls. Because of the flare it was quite difficult to use chimney technique. Not impossible however. It was very difficult to place the pro due to the awkward position, but once it was in it was bomber! This awful situation goes on for about 50 feet and then it opens up into easy climbing and ends on a nice ledge. This is also a very long pitch. I swung the haul line out on top of the Half Dollar and hauled the pack for Lou (actually, I hauled if for me -- I wanted the water!) Lou jugged the pitch and we rejoiced -- the worst was behind us

The next two pitches, 5.7 and 5.8, went smoothly and were very easy compared to the rest of the climb. The entire way up we quote our favorite Saturday Night Live skits. It is usually the belayer who is doing most of the talking... On the final 5.8 pitch, as I am leading up it, Lou is quoting all the Saturday Night Live lines:

Granted this is juvenile stuff, but then, that is the sense of humor that we have.

Anyway, he was cracking me up so bad that I almost fell off the pitch! I had to tune him out so that I didn't laugh myself into a fall. We topped out at 4:30 p.m. and chatted with a party that was fixing lines on the Shield (The Shield, although supposedly a nailing trade route, is the scariest looking climb on El Cap! The headwall is just awesome looking!) To our delight, we found that there were fixed lines all the way down to the ground. Six rappels and forty minutes later, we were on the ground. Finally a success on El Cap! The descent was so much easier than the Nose descent. Every rappel station had a least a stance and four of them had huge ledges. This will probably be the last time I will be on El Cap until our Nose attempt in the Fall. I could use a break away from this beast!

This is the sequel to my 1991 trilogy "Misadventures on El Cap." We, Da Loobster and I, had hopefully learned from our past mistakes and were finally ready to make a full on assault on the Nose of El Capitan.

I had been doing lots of rock climbing this year with over a hundred routes and three marathon days behind me already. Our final tune-up was doing the South Face of Washington Column in a day. We were ready. Only weather or crowds would stop us...

We were planning the traditional 3 1/2 day ascent where you fix lines to Sickle Ledge on your first day and return to the ground. The next day we wanted to sleep on El Cap Tower (15 pitches up), the following night at Camp Five (25 pitches up), and then top out on the fourth day. We planned on strictly swinging leads the entire way up with me leading mostly the even pitches. The pitches that occupied my thoughts were the pendulum into the Stovelegs, Texas Flake, King Swing, Pancake Flake, the Glowering Spot, and Harding's tour de force bolt ladder. The Loobster would be concentrating on the pendulum to Sickle Ledge, the pendulum to Dolt Hole, Boot Flake and the Great Roof. The route had so much to offer us.

The Loobster met at my house tonight to plan what we will take on the route. We agree on short pads, tiny overbags for sleeping bags, bivy bags, five gallons of water, a shit pot (we wanted to do an environmentally clean climb), rain gear, extra clothes (minimal), headlamps, etc. We planned our food and assigned further tasks. Our friend John Blackberries was donating his haulbag and his #4 Camalot to the adventure and he would be our ground crew for the ascent.

Blackberries was going to accompany us up to Sickle Ledge to video us. The following day he would retrieve our dropped fixed lines (after we jugged them to Sickle Ledge) and meet us on the summit Sunday. He proved to be an invaluable team member.

The Loobster and I met Bo Fana Banana Berries at the Wendy's in Merced and crammed my car full of gear. It was a tight fit, but we didn't want to drive two cars to the Valley and have one sit the entire time. Our plan was to bivy at the secret spot outside of the park and then cruise in early in the morning to fix our lines.

We woke at 5 a.m. and moved quickly into the Valley. The El Cap Meadow turnout was crowded with cars and my anxiety over other parties increased, but so far no movement. Then a climbing team drove up and, already organized, started to hike in with two haulbags! Yikes! Which route were they heading for? "Blackberries, go ask them which route they are off to do."

It turns out they are headed for Lurking Fear and we breathed a sigh of relief. These guys turned out to be really rude to Berries so he retaliated. Berries has only known one guy who has done the Lurking Fear and this guy was really good and did a one day ascent. So Berries says to these assholes:

He says all this with a real innocent expression on his face like he doesn't know anything about climbing, but that he as some friends that do it. The assholes didn't respond but looked crestfallen. Berries returned to us satisfied with his success.

Then another party turns up and they are off to jug their fixed lines to Sickle Ledge. That's okay. They will be a day ahead of us and shouldn't pose any problem to us unless they are really slow. After breakfast and some organizing we are finally off.

I won't belabor these first four pitches as I have written about them before. I led the first and third ones French-free and the Loobster aided the 2nd and 4th ones. We hauled the bag with us up these pitches because I didn't want to haul it the next day as I felt it would slow us down too much. We had extra sleeping bags for tonight. Blackberries jugged along after us and videoed these first four pitches.

Everything went smoothly here as we had done them twice before. Before cleaning each pitch the second would lower out the haulbag and Blackberries as each pitch traversed quite a bit, especially the last one to Sickle Ledge. It was nice having a haulbag chaperone along and we started calling John the Bag Master. The leader would lead while trailing three ropes: the lead rope, the haul line, and an additional fixed line for the Bag Master to jug.

The Loobster got a gimme on the 4th pitch as a ratty old fixed line was left here and he used one jumar to sort of jug/batman up this rope while placing some protection. I used this line to lower myself out on the traverse.

We had intended only to fix four pitches that day, but we had five ropes with us and wanted to give ourselves every advantage in making El Cap Tower the next night. We knew making this bivy was the key to getting off this wall by Sunday night. So, I led the 4th class pitch above Sickle and hauled the bag up. WE lowered the bag out onto the face here to avoid hauling it up the 4th class garbage and the haul went very smoothly. I then fixed the haul line back down to Sickle Ledge and brought the lead line down with me. We fixed the lead line at Sickle Ledge and the Bag Master rapped off trailing three extra ropes from his harness to fix the next three belays. The Loobster and I followed him and we were down by 1 p.m.

We spent the rest of the day watching various parties flail on the Nose, doing some last minute shopping, eating, and praying for a large dump. The first question any non-climber every asks me when they hear I am doing a multi-day climb is always: "How do you go to the bathroom?" I hate this. Of all the neat, exciting questions to ask, they ask the most undignified. Our plan was to dump into a Tupperware container and haul our waste up with us (being environmentally minded climbers.) Our hope was to clean out our systems (via numerous large dumps) and then pray for constipation on the wall. Hence, a lot of the conversation centered around dumping that day.

Each time someone would return from the bathroom we would ask, "Well, how did go? Was it substantial?" Everyone was having success (Blackberries joined us in our quest although he had no need) except me. I was eating large quantities of food in hopes of stimulating some activity but with no luck. Now I was worried about eating so much. I would never make it up the wall without the urge. Try as I would nothing was happening. Finally, the next morning I met with success (twice) and we both ended up controlling our bowels for three continuous days of stink free climbing. Well, it actually wasn't stink free. As the Loobster liked to put: "I think I am so highly processing the food that it is merely emerging as a gas." And emerge it did, but at least the wind blew the scent away. With this I will end this overly detailed discussion of crapping.

That afternoon we watched the two climbers in front of us (Reinhart and Chris? Tim?) flail miserably on the pendulum into the Stovelegs. Having led this pitch before and also flailed I could empathize with the climbers. They weren't moving too fast and would end up sleeping at Dolt Tower that night. This still wasn't a problem for us because they should then go to Camp 4 and then Camp 6 and finish early on Sunday. More alarming, we saw a party just sitting around on El Cap Tower in the middle of the afternoon. We knew they didn't start today so they must have just climbed from Dolt to El Cap Tower (only three pitches!) They could be more of problem...

After eating early in the cafeteria we headed back to El Cap Meadow to sleep in the woods. We knew there was some risk here, but figured the rangers would give us a break since we already had our ropes fixed. The Loobster, worried that another party had fixed ropes next to ours as John assured us people do, ran up to the base to check the situation. We wanted to know if there was to be a race the next morning. I wasn't too worried since I hadn't lost a start time race this year had won quite a few. We get up early than most. We know our limitations. We can't climb fast, but we can wake up early.

Early this morning (3 a.m.) two climbers walked by (as we were sleeping just off the trail) and startled me. I popped up immediately my head swimming with thoughts of our route being stolen. Blackberries quickly assured me that they weren't carrying a haulbag and were probably a "Nose-in-a-day" team. Doing the Nose in one day is being done more and more, but it is still a simply awesome achievement in endurance and climbing efficiency, and requires at least solid 5.11 free climbing skills. I thankfully went back to sleep satisfied that my route wasn't in danger.

Berries is up early and off to watch the "Nose-in-a-day" climbers so that when the Loobster and I get up, around 4 a.m., he is nowhere to be found. We had back to the car to stash our bivy gear (our second set is already five pitches up in our haulbag) and eat some breakfast. Berries joins us and we are soon hiking toward our fixed lines. The Loobster goes first and then I follow. I leave the ground at 5:30 a.m.

I drop three of the fixed lines to the ground where Berries dutifully coils them up. It is so great to have support personnel. We are left with just our lead line and haul line. I start leading the 5.9 6th pitch a little after six and it doesn't take me that long. I have seen these pitches before. I have never freed the top of this pitch, but it looks harder than 5.9 to me. Our philosophy is to climb as fast as we can. Whether that means free climbing, French free, or full on aid climbing is irrelevant.

We know it will be a race to El Cap Tower. A couple of judicious tugs on pro and I am at the belay by 6:30. The "Nose-in-a- day" climbers aren't very far ahead of us -- one of then in a pitch above me at the Dolt Hole belay. They would soon leave us in the dust.

The Loobster nails the pendulum on the 7th pitch and quickly scampers up to the belay to my cheers of "Looby Dooby Do!" This time I untie from the end of the rope and successfully lower out all the way across the pendulum. On my last try I smashed into this wall by not lowering out far enough. We lost some time here as the rope got wedged in the crack. The belay at Dolt Hole really sucks as it is a complete hanger and it is difficult to keep things straightened out. Despite all our practice we had a couple of VERY long change-overs that would plague us the entire way up the climb. Sometimes I think the Loobster is so mentally drained by the time he reaches a belay stance that he doesn't think through the process of setting up a clean belay. He also had the annoying habit of clipping in with about sixteen quickdraws. He knows how to tie a clove-hitch and I think this method is so much safer since there are fewer points of failure, but it is hard to change a Loobster set in his ways.

I started up what I consider to be one of the tougher pitches. I have some strenuous, vertical 5.9 wide jamming to reach the bolt ladder, then up a 50 foot bolt ladder, then I get lowered back down to the bottom of the bolt ladder where I have to pendulum into the Stoveleg crack and climb 100 feet to the belay. Whew! It was tiring just writing about that pitch. Here you get to do 200 feet of climbing on a single pitch. This pitch gave me all kinds of trouble last year when we did a reconnaissance up the first nine pitches.

The bolt ladder has one bolt missing. There use to be a fixed piece for this gap, but it was gone. You might be able to clip the next bolt by top stepping, but the wall is so steep here that I didn't think I could do it.

The 2nd step doesn't get you there. I fiddled around trying to place a #1 RP in a tiny crack and eventually got it to stick, but when I weighted the piece it slipped down two inches startling me and wedging deeply into the crack. I thought the chances of cleaning this piece were minimal now, but it allowed me to reach the next bolt.

The last time I did this pendulum I made the mistake of not lowering down far enough and ran myself ragged trying to reach the damn Stoveleg crack. I didn't want to give up the precious altitude I had gained. This time I gave it up readily. I lowered clear down to the bottom of the bolt ladder and even a little beyond. I nailed it on my third try. At this point we employed a unique technique that added to my speed and safety.

The first Stoveleg pitch is usually climbed in one of two ways: free climb to the belay (100 feet of 5.8/9 jamming) with no pro or aid to the belay and back clean every piece. It is necessary to back clean this section for two reasons. One, to reduce the drag induced by the "Z" pattern you would have created and two, to it easy for the second to lower out. Previously I had added this section since I didn't feel solid enough with the climbing to risk a 100 foot fall/pendulum. This is also the method Reinhart used the day before, but it wasn't my method today. I had previously tied the haulline into my harness and now merely switched over to leading on the haulline. Now I could free climb the pitch and place protection normally. I had no drag since the rope was running straight up to me from the belay and things went quickly. The only drawback was that I couldn't haul the bag all the way to the belay until the Loobster cleaned the pro from the haulline. The Loobster also had to down-jumar about twenty feet after lowering out the pendulum since the first piece I placed in the Stovelegs was below him. All told we did this pitch about twice as fast as last time.

As soon as the leader is finished with the hauling he needs to get things ready for the next leader. One of the habits we used was to always clip the haulline to the lead rack (pre-threaded through our wall-hauler and ready to go). This way it was impossible to forgot to clip the haul line to you (something the Loobster and I have been guilty of more than once.)

The Loobster leads the next Stoveleg pitch, the last one we are familiar with. All but one of the Loobster's leads on this climb were aid pitches for him and this one was no exception. Cleaning his leads were easy and fast because of his ferocious back cleaning. He never wanted to leave anything behind in case he needed it higher up on the pitch, consequently he left protection behind sparingly.

As I take over the lead on the 10th pitch we enter new ground. I take a quick glance at the topo and am off, free climbing. This pitch is supposedly rated 5.9 and I move quickly up it. A bit too quickly apparently since I climb right by the belay without noticing it. I get to a long 10a fist section and vigorous pulling on #3 Camalots gets me to a small stance with a single bolt just as I run out of rope. After backing up the belay, I haul the bag. It still hasn't dawned on me that I have bypassed a belay when the Loobster takes off on the next pitch so it comes as quite a surprise that after 100 feet of climbing the Loobster calls down, "I'm on Dolt Tower!" "Dolt?" I saw. "Are you sure? We are a pitch early!" Sure enough the Loobster is correct. We had reached Dolt Tower in 11 pitches and arrived before 2 p.m.

We have only three pitches to reach El Cap Tower and plenty of daylight. We celebrate with a well deserved break. I look down into El Cap Meadow and spot the same little speck of a person that has been there since 6 a.m. -- Berries. I waved a greeting at him hoping that he is watching us. After some food and drink and even a little videoing, the Loobster lowers off the right side of Dolt Tower and I free climb right into the main crack system. Steep crack climbing leads me up to a nice triangular belay ledge. As I haul the bag up the pitch, the Loobster is jugging right below it and getting a Gatorade shower! He now thinks that he might have punctured one of the water containers dragging the bag across Dolt Tower. Damn! We had 5 gallons of water/Gatorade with us but with expected hot temperatures we felt we needed it all.

The next pitch is steep and fist width. The Loobster wants me to lead it because I can move faster and then maybe, if the leak is a small one, we can salvage some of the liquid. I quickly free/French free up the pitch until it becomes very wide. I have to run out the upper 45 feet because I have no pro big enough. It is probably only 5.8 here, but still exciting. I move continuously hoping that momentum will keep me on the rock. I reach the belay winded and dripping with sweat as the anxiety has prompted me to work harder than necessary. By the time the Loobster joins me we know it is a lost cause to salvage any of the liquid. The Loobster leads the next 5.6 pitch, his only free lead of the climb, and thinks to himself: "I can't pull out my aiders on this pitch! What will Bill think?" when he catches himself reaching instinctively for the etriers.

El Cap Tower! By 5 p.m.! We are quite excited to reach our first day's goal so comfortably. After stringing rope along the 30 foot by 4 foot ledge, we began the depressing job of unpacking the haul bag. Everything was coated and soaked by a gallon of Gatorade. I pulled out a couple of pairs of soaked socks, polypro, underwear, paperback books, raingear, etc. Eventually I got down the culprit. It was our unmodified, stock gallon jug of Gatorade. Earlier in the week when we got together to pack the haul bag I asked the Loobster why all of our water containers were bullet proofed with duck taped except the Gatorade jug. His answer: "Well, I think that container is pretty much bullet proof already." Bullet proof? Maybe. Loobster proof? NOT!

We got out our pads, reclined on them and relaxed, enjoying our incredible bivy location. This was my greatest bivy ledge of my, admittedly limited, wall career. It is very flat. Not as smooth as I would like it, but at least it didn't lean. We ate some dinner and just as the Loobster said he was going to get into his bag I decided I would go up and take a look at the next pitch: the infamous Texas Flake chimney.

This pitch starts off the western edge of the ledge and then works back east. Some 5.8 crack/face climbing leads up to a broken ledge and the start of the chimney. Ten feet up the chimney is a large chock stone with a sling around it. This is the last piece of protection for forty more feet. Passing the chock stone is probably the technical crux as it is a bit offwidthy and overhung. Once on top of the chock stone I found it to be more of a complete floor behind the Texas Flake. From here three foot wide chimney leads straight up to the top of the flake. The walls are completely devoid of any cracks, dead vertical, and generally smooth, but with a few widely spaced incut foot holds. I had heard that the "western" side of Texas was the easiest section and head up over there. The flake is only about 18 inches wide so it was possible for me to reach the outside edge of the flake and layback off of it. This proved to be too great of a reach to do comfortably and I mainly stuck to strict chimney moves.

The climbing is pretty reasonable, but could be scary as a fall would have major consequences and the chimney is wide enough where you don't feel very secure. It was here that I discovered a new climbing aid that is sure to transform the climbing world in much the same way as the Fire rubber did. Remember the spilled Gatorade? Well it got all over my shoes also and now the soles were really sticky. They sounded like I was pulling tape off the rock each time I moved my feet. Forget Stealth rubber and C4, use GatorRubber! It worked for me.

Once at the top I fixed the rope and rappelled back down to El Cap Tower cleaning the two pieces of protection I had placed on the pitch. Since I had to rappel down the chimney we also had to jug up that way in the morning. This is not a problem and I would actually recommend it because the walls make the jumaring easier.

Shortly after I returned to the ledge we snuggled into our bags and I read a few pages from the Gatorade-soaked book I had brought. What a great bivy ledge!

We were up by 5:30 or so, but we weren't moving particularly fast. We ate something and then repacked the Gatorade soaked haul bag with the Gatorade soaked clothes. The Loobster had agreed to jug first and haul the bag -- what a nice Loobster. He had no trouble with the jumar (and we jugged the inside of the chimney), but he had a hell of a time setting things up for the haul. The top of Texas Flake is no more than a foot high and three feet away from the main wall. The anchors are on the top of the flake so in order to haul you have to hang off the bolts on the outside face. I am not sure why this bothered the Loobster so much or why it took so long to figure out, but it did. I think it was the lack of coffee. Loobsters really need their coffee in the morning.

When I arrived at the belay I got to stretch out and recline on top of the slightly slanted flake and belay the Loobster on the Boot Flake pitch. This pitch took a long time to lead. We were off to a slow start. The exposure here is extraordinary and it unnerved me a bit as I started to jug the fixed line. The pitch starts with a long bolt ladder that goes up and strongly left. I hate following traversing pitches. It is a real hassle to avoid smashing your lower jumar up into the piece as you weight the upper jumar.

The King Swing! We had endless discussed our strategy on how we would lead and follow this double pendulum pitch the night before we left the ground. It is logistically tricky because of the length of the pendulum which is over 50 horizontal feet left and the belay ends up BELOW where you start.

With little fanfare the Loobster lowers me down the left side of Boot Flake to the top of the instep. I run left a bit and then hard back right clear to the other side of the boot. A brief pause and I am hurtling left towards the fixed pin which marks the start of the second pendulum. Missed! Back right.Now left again with more speed. Dive! Got it! I clip a quickdraw into the short sling on this fixed pin and then into my rope before requesting that the Loobster lower me still further. I lower another 20 or 30 feet and complete the second pendulum. I have lost a total of about 80 feet of elevation and must now reclimb it...without protection. Thankfully the climbing is left facing dihedral so I don't feel as exposed to the pendulum fall I would take to the right. The climbing is rated 5.9 with a 10a move at the top. I find the climbing reasonable and occasional place a piece to protect a move and then immediately pull the piece. I can't afford to place any protection here as the rope drag will impede further climbing. The last 10a move is difficult, but nothing a well-placed stopper and a good tug couldn't solve and I am on a sloping belay ledge. The Loobster ties in the haulbag short and lowers it out as I haul it across.

We try to bring it across as close to horizontal as possible so that the Loobster will still have the free end of the haul line. This works and once I have the bag secured the Loobster threads the haul line throw the anchors at the top of Boot Flake and I lower him down while he pulls himself across with the jumars on the lead line. This works extremely well and the Loobster is soon at the belay. He had some trouble removing my last piece but finally retrieved it. Miraculously we didn't leave a single piece behind on this climb despite having a couple of problematic ones. This is certainly a record for the Loobster and me. We must be getting better.

The Loobster runs the next two pitches together in one massive, 160 foot, two hour aid lead. Sections of this pitch were probably French-freeable but the Loobster committed firmly to his aiders. Once again the pitch was very quick to clean because of Loobster's backcleaning, but this pitch is very steep and I frequently hung free on the jumar up to Loobster's hanging belay.

Once again the Loobster lowers me down and I tension traverse across to a 4th class ledge. The Loobster follows this in the same manner he followed the King Swing pitch. After some 4th class scrambling that is a royal pain in the ass with the haul bag (I climbed it with the haul bag clipped to my harness -- very strenuous, but thankfully very short) we had one pitch to reach Camp IV. This next pitch is supposedly 5.9 but that is complete bullshit. French freeing I reached a bolt in a smooth face. By standing in a sling clipped to the bolt I was able to face climb up to a crack and place some protection after running it out 15 feet or so. From here the climbing is probably 5.9 to the Camp IV ledges. These ledges, although great for a midday break, didn't look to comfortable for bivying since there aren't any good flat spots big enough for sleeping. Little did I know that Camp V wasn't much better.

We reached Camp IV at 3:00 p.m. and took a food and water break. We hadn't been moving very fast today due primarily to some very time consuming aid leads, but felt confident we were still in good shape to make Camp V if we didn't break too long.

The next lead was mine also since it is a 5.9 free pitch and it provided some very nice climbing. Interesting face moves with good protection and nice stances to place it make for a very enjoyable, low stress pitch to a small stance belay the infamous Great Roof. What tremendous position here! The Roof looms right above your head and the foreshortening convinces me this won't be that long of a pitch. WRONG!

Now the Loobster took over the lead once again and methodically worked his way up to and horizontally across the huge roof to a stance at the far end. The exposure at this little belay is incredible but we getting pretty immune to it due to all the work that needed to be done. Belaying offered a perfect opportunity to marvel at our position. Jugging up to the roof was routine, but when I had to traverse completely horizontally things got interesting. The protection was close enough together so that I didn't need to lower out from any of the pieces, but there was something about weighting a completely horizontal jumar that unnerved me. I was, of course, tying in short to backup the jumars but it was still wild.

At a point about 2/3 of the way across the roof I notice that the next piece is a #1 TCU shoved straight up into a tiny seam that barely contains the cams. Hmmm.... "I don't think that TCU is going to hold," I tell the Loobster. Carefully I move my jumar around the current piece I am weighting and then slowly transfer my weight onto the TCU. Rock dust pours out of the crack and I whimper further, "Damn! It's going to pull! It's going to pull!" But it doesn't. I inch upward and reach back to clean my previous piece. Another look at the TCU shows it moving slightly. "SHIT!" Bang! The TCU rips out of the crack and down I go. Smack! I hit the wall with my elbow and the pain starts just as I come to a stop five feet down. Whew! At least that is one piece I don't have to clean. This was the only fall taken by either of us on the entire climb.

After some 5.7 free climbing I join the Loobster at the belay and we organize for the next lead. This is the famous Pancake Flake pitch which supposedly has some of the best free climbing on the route. The rating is 10a for the first 100 feet and then it finishes with a 30 foot 11b/A2 section so I have to take the aiders for only the second time on the climb.

I didn't know it at the time, but not only was I being watched from El Cap Meadow by almost a hundred people but I was being videotaped through a ten foot telescope set up 2000 feet below.

This flake is very thin but with nice positive holds. Unfortunately it is also very steep. With the rack I was carrying I wasn't able to flash this pitch and didn't really try too hard. I would climb up to a good hold and struggle to either clip the fixed pin or place a piece before hanging on it and preparing for the next section. After about 25 feet the climbing eased a bit and I was able to free climb without hanging. This section is so incredible!

Towards the end of the pitch the crack closes down and steepens past vertical. Time to get out the aiders. This section is supposedly A2 and I sure had some problems with it. It was my first real aid section (the bolt ladder was mainly a clip and go) of the climb and I was very slow getting going on it. I had lots of trouble placing solid pro.

After what seemed like an eternity I free climbed the last block and clipped into the belay. It had taken me nearly 45 minutes to lead this pitch and it was now 7:15 p.m.

When the Loobster arrived at the belay we realized that he wouldn't finish the next pitch to Camp 5 before darkness so we dug out the headlamps. The next pitch was a very awkward and strenuous flare which caused all kinds of problems for the Loobster. Thirty feet up the headlamp was turned on and he worked into the darkness. I could hear the heavy breathing of his struggles and didn't envy his position. Two hours later the "off belay" call drifted down from above and I started to jug.

The Loobster brings me up to his belay and I am a bit curious why he stopped short of the bivy ledges. I think he was just confused about where they were. I grabbed some gear and went exploring for a place to sleep. The first platform I stumbled across was plenty large enough for one person but wouldn't accommodate both of us. It also had a pronounced slope to it. The beta on Camp 5 (or Camp 6, as the Loobster kept referring to it. He maddeningly kept calling Camp 5, Camp 6 and visa versa. I didn't understand where the confusion came in. The camp with the higher number was the one higher up the route. He is such a Loobster!) was that the higher platforms are the best ones. I climbed up (5.7) to the next platform and found it to be a little more level, but quite small. It would be a tight squeeze for me. Frustrated by the lack of good sites I continued up to the base of the aid climbing on the next pitch to confirm we had the best sites. I then placed a piece and lowered clear back down to the first big ledge. All this was occurring in darkness via my headlamp.

I brought the Loobster up and we unpacked the haulbag to eat and drink. It was now about 10:30 p.m. After satisfying our hunger, I packed up the haulbag, climbed the 30 feet up to the higher platform and hauled up the bag. Loobster had his sleeping bag and would spend the night on the lower ledge. No bedtime stories from the Loobster tonight...

As I struggle to organize myself in the "penthouse" ledge of Camp 5, I can hear yelling from the Valley floor and I know it must be my friend Magoo. If you ever see this guy you will understand why a climbed called "The Nose" would be ideal for him. Well, at least he had to come watch us climb it. This is a guy intimately familiar with big Noses.

I finally turn off the headlamp at 11:30 a.m. and start the cycle of sleep-wakeup-readjust-curse-the-bright-moon-check-my-watch which I repeated every fifteen minutes. The Loobster slept like a baby.

Up at 5:30 and, after hauling up the Loobster's sleeping gear and packing the haulbag, I was climbing by 6:30. The first pitch above Camp 5 is the Glowering Spot pitch. Harding's name for this pitch seemed appropriate now as I glowered at the incipient crack I had to ascend. This is the only pitch on the route where RPs were used. I didn't like most of the placements on this pitch and yanked a couple out while testing them. Occasionally I got a bomber stopper placed and my stress level was reduced. The dicey aid continues for about 50 feet where you can switch into the right crack and use friends the rest of the way. I freed the last ten foot section and ended at a nice, slanting, two foot ledge. This pitch took me almost an hour to lead and was my toughest aid lead of the climb.

The Loobster quickly cleaned and led the next, short aid pitch. This pitch leans a bit and looked pretty awkward, but by now the Loobster was pretty fast on these awkward pitches and he reached a small belay stance in short order. The next lead, the 25th of the climb, officially marked this as the longest climb I had ever done in my life (Half Dome is 24 pitches.) This pitch goes all free at 5.8 but follows a circuitous route. I first traversed right, climbed up a wide crack, traversed back left, and then ascended another wide crack to Camp 6 where I found a couple of marooned climbers. They greeted me with, "We have sort of a traffic jam here." I looked up to see another party above them and moving slow. Damn!

I had only placed one piece on the last pitch so that the Loobster would be able to jug straight up the pitch and not follow the traverses and he soon joined me. Our new friends were Reinhart and Tim -- the guys we had watched after fixing on our first day. They were quite friendly and agreed to fix a rope for us (as the party above them had done for them) in order to make up for some of the time we would lose.

We ended up sitting at the aromatic Camp 6 for two hours. We ate, drank, rested. I read thirty pages from the paperback book that I brought (I never go anywhere without a book!) Eventually it was time to go and we started jugging the overhanging line. The Loobster went first in order to haul the bag as the next lead was mine. As I struggled up the free hanging rope I marveled at the incredible exposure and the cathedral-like dihedrals I was entering. It was almost enough to make me religious as I prayed the rope was anchored securely.

The next lead was mine and it was a great one. A perfect #1 Camalot crack on my left provided any easy "friend jumar" for me. Halfway up it turns to 5.8 free climbing and I left the aiders behind and moved up the beautifully exposed hand crack on awesome jams.

The belay is very unsettling as there is a large block right above the belay that is held onto the cliff by some slings around it and attached to a big hex in the crack behind it. If this block were to come off (and this looks like a real possibility) it would definitely kill the belayer and probably cut the rope. I made the Loobster promise not to touch this block as he moved by it. I was at this belay for a long time as the next pitch proved very time consuming and draining for the Loobster.

The next pitch proves to once again to be a very difficult and time consuming lead for the Loobster. It is so steep that he frequently hangs free from his placements. The steepness was also quite evident to me as I jugged the line and frequently had to pull myself back into the rock to clean the pro. The belay at the top of this pitch is a full hanging belay in an alcove. It took us probably 45 minutes to sort things out here and the Loobster did another one of his "clip in with 29 quickdraws" belays. I could tell the Loobster was frazzled and didn't want the next lead. We had agreed that he would do this next pitch and that I would do the final bolt ladder, but I took the lead.

It is suppose to be 5.9 face climbing up out of the alcove and then up a 10b thin crack. I grabbed pro shameless up the very difficult 5.9 section and then got in the aiders for the 10b crack. This crack is absolutely beautiful and I would have loved to tried to free climb it, but it was simply too much for me at this point. There are so many great pitches in the upper reaches of this route. It is too bad the "approach" to them is so long.

The belay at the top of this pitch consists of about four bolts (two brand new ones) and a couple of pins. I was able to really keep things organized with so many places to hang things. The Loobster joined me shortly and we stowed most of the gear in the top of the haul bag. I took tons of quickdraws and biners to clip the numerous bolts that led from here up the overhanging headwall and over the lip.

I was thankful for the brand new retro-bolts in this section. At first the bolt clipping is very straight forward as it generally ascends straight up. A few places have some large reaches but still quite manageable. After turning the lip of the overhang the bolts lead almost straight sideways with some rather large gaps. I had to place one TCU to bridge one of the gaps, but it wasn't so bad for me. I worried about the Loobster following this section, but there was nothing I could do for him and knew he would figure something out. When the bolts peter out you have to do some free climb up slabs and over small steps. This section is easy, but the rope drag was getting to be ferocious so I didn't place any protection at all on this section.

As I climbed the last 5.7 section up the summit slabs I kept expecting to see Berrries or Sheri but they weren't there. I anchored the rope and yelled down that I was off belay but communication between the Loobster and I was impossible. I set up the hauling system and started to haul hoping that it would indicate that I was off belay and everything was fixed. After numerous attempts at screaming commands I was able to haul the bag up...at least until it got stuck on the lip of the overhang. I assumed that the Loobster was now cleaning the pitch.

Shortly after I started hauling, Berries appears out of the manzanita and yells "Billy!!" His face is filled with joy for finding me safe and sound on the summit. He pulls out the video camera and videos me hauling. I disappointed him a bit in not being elated about our accomplishment. It hadn't sunk into my consciousness yet and I hadn't got the Loobster up there yet and the bag was still stuck down there and...

Eventually the Loobster tops out (this is a very difficult pitch to follow due to all the horizontally placed bolts) and we celebrate. Sheri soon joins us and I give her a big hug. Berries and Sheri have brought us fresh clothes, our hiking boots, cookies, and even cold beer!! The greatest support crew ever!

Then they hit us with the bad news: it is an 11 mile hike out to the road! In retrospect there were better trails to get to the summit of El Cap, but they didn't know it at the time. The hike would have been "only" eight miles if the road into the ??? campground wasn't closed. Ugh! Suffice to say the walk out was long and arduous. At first we furiously traded stories about our last three days, but eventually just plodded along into the darkness. We reached the cars at 11:30 p.m. and started the 4 1/2 hour drive home. I made it about an hour before I had to stop and sleep the night by the side of the road. My sleeping bag was in the other car (with Berries and the Loobster) so Sheri and I huddled together under her bag. We returned home by nine the next morning.

I can't adequately express what it means for me to climb El Capitan. Granted this is a trivial climb for some, but for me it was the pinnacle of my climbing career. A pinnacle that will not likely be surpassed. El Capitan is undeniably the most famous rock climbing cliff. The most sought after big wall in the world! A truly awe inspiring piece of granite. So smooth and hard it looks man-made except for the fact that it is simply enormous. Dwarfing all man-made structures.

Just like after I ran my first (and only) marathon, I don't have less respect for this climb having done it, but more. And I respect anyone who has climbed. It demands a lot of climbing knowledge, perseverance, and skill to ascend its walls. Truly the greatest rock climb I have done. There are so many great pitches that would be fun to work on free climbing them, but the approach is a bitch!

I thought as soon as I got off this wall that I wouldn't want to climb again. That somehow my thirst for climbing would be sated by this great cliff. But, somewhat disappointingly, this was like other tough climbs in that the pain and hardship quickly vanished and I simply remember the joy, the adventure. By Monday afternoon I couldn't wait to go climbing again and by Tuesday I was making plans for my next big wall.