Yosemite: Relative Speed
June 3-9, 2001
Summary: Speed climbed a bunch of domes (8) in Tuolumne Meadows, climbed the Lost Arrow Spire and did the Tyrolean Traverse, Steck-Salathé (12 hours, 15 hours car-to-car), Regular Route on the Northwest Face of Half Dome (12 hours, 18:20 hours car-to-car), and some practice on the first two pitches of the Salathé. Also floating the Merced River, some hiking on the Snow Creek trail, and running the Falls Trail. A total of 14 routes were climbed or partially climbed and 83 pitches were climbed over seven days.
I’m getting in the habit of visiting Yosemite the first weekend in June. This is because I have to be around Boulder for our annual Memorial Day weekend festivities centered on the Bolder Boulder. Two years ago, four of us drove out in my RV and met the Loobster out there. This year we had only three (Hardly and Judy, recently engaged on the top of the Priest near Moab, and myself), so we got airline tickets via Priceline.com at the last minute.
Two years ago Hardly and I climbed the Salathé Wall on El Cap. While climbing Free Blast (the first ten pitches of the Salathé), we got passed by the speed climbing team of Jim Herson and Peter Coward. This was my first personal account with speed climbers and it changed my entire outlook on wall climbing. While we were loaded down with a huge haulbag, two ropes, and a huge rack, Jim climbed by us on a 70-meter rope – combining pitches whenever possible – and a tiny rack of gear. Peter just wore a small pack. I was flabbergasted. This year I was back to try this new style of climbing. We were nowhere near Herson’s class, but we felt his techniques could equally apply to weekend warriors like ourselves, albeit on smaller objectives.
Our brush with Jim and Peter led to me contacting Hans Florine and becoming friends with him. Hans is a Yosemite speed climber and maintains a web site, www.speedclimb.com, which maintains records for a number of routes in Yosemite Valley. Since then I’ve climbed with Hans a number of times in the Valley and once in Colorado. We’d be staying at Hans’ house in West Yosemite, though he wouldn’t be there for most of the week.
Sunday, June 3, 2001: Crazy Eights
This was my only day to climb with Hans and, not surprisingly, he wanted to push the speed a bit. His idea was to climb as many Tuolumne domes as we could before dinner. It was the hobbit’s approach to adventure: we wanted some adventure, but above all we didn’t want to miss dinner, which in our case would be at the TPR (Tioga Pass Restaurant?). We got up at 5:15 a.m. and so did Hardly and Judy – they were planning on climbing up at Tuolumne also. Hans and I ate and took off in his car. After climbing he’d be continuing on to the eastern side of the Sierras to meet up with his family and some friends. We’d meet Hardly and Judy for dinner and I’d go back with them.
We pulled up below Stately Pleasure Dome just after 7 a.m., but spent so long changing clothes, gearing up, and, most of all, looking for Hans’ chalk bag, that Hardly and Judy pulled up before we even left the car. Judy immediately asked, “So, how many domes have you climbed so far?” She’s a pistol…
I put on my climbing shoes at the car since the approach and descent involve friction climbing on steep slabs. Hans went with a pair of running shoes, which he had re-soled with sticky rubber. He’d use these for the first four domes of the day. We finally started up just before 7:30 a.m.
I’d do most of the leading throughout the day, since that is the safest arrangement for us to simul-climb – Hans isn’t likely to fall on anything I could climb.
Many years ago I had previously climbed South Crack and found it very easy for the 5.8 rating and today was no different. It seems ludicrous to compare this route with some of the 5.8 offwidth and chimney routes in the valley. I’m not a great slab climber, but this slab is low angle and it has a crack in it. I guess the crux friction moves are 5.8, but the route isn’t sustained. What it is is just plain fun. We romped up this route at a good pace and for descent we used a neat trick. I went above the big pine tree at the start of the descent slabs and weighted the rope. I got a cushy lowering down the slab, while Hans got a pull up the slab to the tree. We were back at the car as Hardly started up the first pitch. Judy waved good-bye to us as we hopped in the car and sped off.
Our next dome, Pywiack, was just up the road. The easiest route on this dome is the Dike Route (5.9) – a fun, runout friction route that follows a knobby dike. We parked and as soon as we hit the low angle slabs at the start, we started our route time. I started to tie into the rope and Hans says, “Tie in while you’re hiking up this slab. Always keep moving.” He’s a nut, but I obliged.
I’d done this route once before also and had trouble finding the bolts on it. This time the same thing happened. I missed a bolt and was runout forty feet or so. I couldn’t see another bolt until the belay, another fifty feet. I wrestled with this dilemma a bit and decided to go on. Thankfully, as soon as I made this decision I noticed a bolt right near me. This turned out to be very good since the moves above were challenging.
We simul-climbed, with me leading once again, through the crux 5.9 section, but then I clipped into the anchors and belayed Hans up the crux. He was still climbing in his running shoes and every time I’d look back down the route to him, he’d be climbing along with no hands, adjusting the slack with his Gri-Gri. Clearly he wasn’t too challenged. We didn’t do the final 5.7 crack pitch shown in the guidebook and I’m not sure why. I know most parties don’t do it, maybe because it requires gear and is of a very different nature. I think the descent is a lot longer also. We didn’t go to the top of most domes anyway. We just descended the slabs to the west back to the base.
In order to get as many domes as possible, we tried to add in some short routes whenever we could. Our first opportunity was with the Golfer’s Route on Low Profile Dome. This route has a short approach, is only two pitches long, and is rated only 5.7. I combined the route into one pitch, which isn’t a big stretch since together they are only 165’ long. Nevertheless, Hans still simul-climbed behind me. His philosophy about simul-climbing isn’t what you’d normally think. For most climbers, simul-climbing is something that is done when you run out of rope and want to keep moving. Hans starts moving long before we run out of rope. He starts moving as soon as I have 3-4 good pieces between us. His philosophy here is for both climbers to keep moving as much as possible. Why just sit at the base when you can be moving? Most will respond that one climber needs to be attached to a bomber anchor at all times. It is important to note that there is not extra slack for the leader in this situation. The Gri-Gri turns the rope into an infinitely adjustable length of rope (up to the maximum, of course). Hence, Hans always climbs with a loop of rope beneath him. It takes careful management to insure this doesn’t get caught on a flake and impede progress.
I clipped the chains at the top and Hans immediately lowered me to the first belay. Hans went up and tagged the anchor and I lowered him down. Hans only brought his Gri-Gri, which cannot be used to rappel on a doubled rope. So, I did my first simul-rappel. Hans slapped the Gri-Gri on one end of the rope and I put my belay device on the other. We clipped a sling between us to ensure we stayed together and down we went. This worked great and was fun.
Next up were the two most crowded routes and we expected other parties. We’d have our diplomatic skills put to the test in negotiating passage. First was West Crack on DAFF (Dome Across From Fairview) Dome. This is a fun route with one 5.9 move down low and the rest of the route 5.8 or easier. The second pitch is particularly memorable as it passes an overhanging bulge via tricky hand crack moves and some big jugs.
Sure enough, as we arrived at the base there were two climbers at the top of the first pitch and a third was halfway up the first pitch. We could have climbed Crescent Crack (10a), but I found that route continuously hard. West Crack is much easier so we decided to climb up to the party and ask if we could simul-climb through. In situations like this, I prefer Hans to handle it since many climbers recognize him and get a kick out of letting him fly by. A bumbler like myself doesn’t get the same reaction, but it was once again me on the sharp end.
I tried to look competent and fast as I approached the belay. It was cold and windy and I noticed the leader of the party was in shorts. I knew they wouldn’t want to be held up under such conditions. I certainly wouldn’t. When I was about twenty feet below them and before I had a chance to initiate a conversation, the leader calls down to me, “It’s pretty crowded up here.” His tone indicated a bit of annoyance and I immediately felt guilty. I sheepishly said, “Yeah, that’s true. I’ll bet it’s cold up there also.” I hesitated a second and then meekly said, “We were wondering if we could simul-climb through.” The leader was a bit surprised by this and then asked, “Are you simul-climbing now?” Now, I wasn’t at the first belay so Hans probably hadn’t left the ground yet, but I knew the only way to answer this question was affirmatively. The leader responded, “Well, if you’re already simul-climbing you might as well come through.”
I thanked him immediately and said how nice he was to let us pass. After a brief pause he said, “Yes, I am nice to let you climb through, but I don’t appreciate you guys coming up here when you knew what we were doing.” I didn’t want to be an asshole and I didn’t want to push on past if it meant bad feelings among climbers. I was excited about linking up a bunch a domes, but not at the cost of pissing people off. Lots of parties are very friendly and let you pass by if it doesn’t inconvenience them much. Others won’t allow it at all. I told him, “Look, I don’t have to climb through. I just came up here to ask if it would be okay. I can put in an anchor right where I am, below your belay, and we can rap off. You were here first and I just came up to ask. I didn’t invade your belay.”
He encouraged me to climb through and softened his tone considerably. His partners seemed happy to let me by and didn’t seem perturbed at all. The leader’s name was Andrew (always get their names!), the girl’s name was Laura, and I don’t remember the other climber’s name. As I approached the belay, I leaned my head back to look up at the steep second pitch and my helmet fell off my head and bounced all the way to the ground. That had to give these guys a sense of confidence. Yup, a real competent climber coming through! He doesn’t even know how to put on his helmet!
I had put the helmet on my head at the car for the hike in, but hadn’t snapped the buckle. Hans yells up, “Do we need to get that now or on the way down?” At the time he was a bit concerned while doing the opening 5.9 moves in his tennis shoes and was glad to hear me say, “On the way down.” We didn’t have any choice about that; we had to climb past this party now.
I climbed through the belay and over the fun, overhanging start of the second pitch. I told them to say hi to Hans when he came up. I was hoping they’d figure out who Hans was, but it didn’t dawn on them. I climbed up about two and a half pitches before setting a natural belay anchor and putting Hans on belay. Soon Hans had climbed up to me, grabbed the rack and was leading above me – tennis shoes smearing on the rock. We simul-climbed the rest of the way to the top, switched shoes and ran down the steep descent slabs back to the base of the route to retrieve my helmet. Looking up, the second climber was just starting to follow the second pitch. We yelled our encouragement and ran back to the car.
Our next dome was the biggest of the day and had previously been an all day climb for me. Fairview Dome was just a little ways up the road and across the street. We were surprised to only see two cars at the parking area and hoped they both wouldn’t be on the Regular Route. Before we left the road, we saw a climber at the first belay and upon our arrival at the base, he was still there. His second was about halfway up the first pitch and, sure enough, the other party was gearing up at the base. I’d let Hans handle the negotiations.
Hans walks up to the other party and introduces himself, “Hi, I’m Hans. What are your names?” They respond Ray and Leslie. As Ray started to lead the first pitch, he asked, “Hans, what’s your last name?” Hans said, “Christian-Anderson,” then smiled and said, “Florine.” Ray responds, “Hey, I know Nancy Feagin (Hans’ former girlfriend) real well. I used to climb with her a lot.” Hans says, “Then you might now that she just recently summitted Everest.” They went on for a bit and then Ray went back to leading. Hans tells Leslie that we’re trying to do a bunch of domes in a day to which she says, “Then I suppose you want to just climb over the top of us.” Hans says, “What I want and what I get are two different things. You were here first and you have dibbs on the route.” She said she wouldn’t mind and then Hans yells up to ask Ray and he says, “No problem, come on up.”
So I geared up and started up behind him. I climbed a variation crack about five feet left of the main crack so that our ropes would run more cleanly. Eventually, I had to merge with the main crack just before the crux move and our ropes ran more on top of each other. I stayed a safe distance below him so that I wouldn’t be in danger of him falling on me and so as not to be rude.
As we approached the belay ledge, Ray tells the other party that his plan was to climb above them to an alternate belay, but that the guy behind him (me) is climbing a lot faster and figures to just let me pass right at this ledge, since we had promised to simul-climb the first couple of pitches. I didn’t catch the other party’s names, but just tried to move up by as quickly as possible. I thanked them all and moved straight up the next pitch.
I ran the first four pitches together up to Crescent Ledge. Upon arrival I had three pieces on my rack and no slings – two went in for the belay. I was just starting to get worried about what I’d belay with when I came across the ledge. The climbing is so fun on these opening pitches that I just didn’t want to stop. Finally, out of gear, I had to stop.
Hans, never far behind, soon joined me on the ledge and said, “Well, you’ve had a chance to rest so why don’t you continue leading?” I led off and we simul-climbed the next eight pitches to the top without re-gearing. What a fun ramble this route is! Hans joined me on the summit 1:11 after I started up the first pitch. Once again, we trotted down the slabs in back and along the base of the wall and back to the car – completing the climb in just over two hours car-to-car.
It was time for another easy dome and the sport climbing area of East Cottage Dome was just up the road. The approach to this crag is a bit longer than some of the other domes, but we made it over there in about twenty minutes. This small dome has increasingly harder sport routes as you move from right to left along the base of the wall. The climbs also get a bit longer as you move left. The easiest and shortest route is called Knobulator, rated 10c, and has only four bolts leading up to the anchor, 60 feet away.
As we arrived, a woman, Miss Lena, was climbing the upper half of Knobulator. We introduced ourselves to Trevor, her belayer, and I changed shoes. We asked if it was okay to start leading the route while Miss Lena set up her rappel. They said no problem and I headed up.
Rushing a bit too much, combined with little skill and no forearm endurance, caused me to pitch off the route at the crux for a fifteen-foot fall. I immediately got back on the route and climbed a bit more thoughtfully up the anchors, just barely making it before my arms gave out again. I lowered and cleaned the route and then Hans cruised up it. We changed back into our approach shoes and ran back to the car.
We drove over to our final stop at the Lembert Dome parking lot and took a bit of a siesta. Hans got out his big sun hat and a bedroll and relaxed for some lunch. I ate some Vienna Sausages and Hans begged me to give him some, but they were just too precious. We took a photo of the can – it was so beautiful. I noticed a three-pitch 5.8 route on something called Dog Dome. That seemed like an easy way to tick another dome and we decided to do it before Lembert. We asked a climber in the parking lot if they had ever done it and they said, “We tried once, but couldn’t find it. Then a second time we found it, but didn’t climb it because it didn’t look that good.” We could hardly ask for a better recommendation than that. We were both salivating at the prospect of bagging this route.
Hiking into Dog Dome, I looked back at Hans and he didn’t look too excited about things. I asked how he felt and he said, “Sick.” No, it wasn’t the Vienna Sausages bringing on this illness because I wouldn’t let him have any. He sat down on the ground and looked tired. I had never seen Hans tired before. I thought, “Wow, I tired out Hans Florine. What a stud, I am…” Of course that wasn’t the case and the roles would soon be reversed. After a brief rest Hans agreed to continue on for ten more minutes. If we didn’t find the dome within that time, we’d turn back.
We found it with the allotted time, but it took more like 20 minutes to actually get to the base of the route. Indeed the route did look serious. It started with a 7-inch crack, as expected, but it was rife with lichen and a bit damp. A small snowfield barred dry access to the route. I placed a number of large stones across the field and changed shoes.
I found the first pitch quite serious despite the 5.7 rating. The climbing was definitely harder and the protection was scant. I ran out 150 feet of rope to a ledge with a couple of rusty pitons and decided to belay. The crack above looked difficult. It was irregular and filled with sharp crystals. When Hans arrived I told him to just lead through. He agreed that the climbing was somewhat serious.
I followed this 5.8 jam crack and found it pretty sustained. The crux was a short, ten-foot chimney section. The rock wasn’t very solid here and the protection was tiny TCU’s. This hard chimney would be foreshadowing the difficulties of Steck-Salathé to come. I was glad Hans had led. Hans put the second two pitches together so we were now on the summit. The descent off was trivial and we were soon headed back for Lembert, but the climb had taken some of the wind out of my sails. My motivation was waning and when we got to Lembert, I looked wistfully up at Cry In Time Again, a 5.9 bolted route. Unfortunately, it had a party on it. We decided to do the Direct Northwest Face (10c thin crack crux) instead.
I told Hans, “I’m fading. I’ll lead the first three pitches (4th class, 5.8, 5.9) and you can lead the last two (10a, 10c), okay?” Hans said that would be fine and I started up at a much slower pace than I had been maintaining. I was also placing more gear. We simul-climbed these pitches and once again Hans was mostly climbing without his hands.
The 5.9 section didn’t seem too bad and soon I was standing below the 10a hand crack pitch. This is a short pitch and I was feeling better so I called down to Hans that I’d do this next pitch also, as I had plenty of gear. The crux is indeed short here, but it is burly and I had to crank hard to lock off my high jam and reach the finishing jug. I pulled onto the ledge and looked at the final 10c pitch. It was a thin crack and also didn’t appear to be very long. There was a fixed wired nut near the top and so I decided to continue once again. This would prove to be a mistake.
I placed a good stopper from the ledge and then moved up four feet or so and placed what I thought to be an okay stopper. A few more feet and I clipped the fixed wired. It looked manky, but I had two pieces below it. I launched into the crux fingerlocks and tried to race for the top. I was about five feet above the fixed piece when I peeled off, expecting a short fall. But I didn’t stop short. I kept going, falling out from the wall. Bam! I slammed into the ledge with my back and my arm and then fell off that before I stopped. I was shocked. What had happened? My arm hurt. I righted myself and Hans yelled up if I was okay. I said I was okay and pulled myself onto the ledge. I discovered that I had pulled the wire completely out of the fixed piece and then pulled my upper stopper also. The lower stopper caught my fall.
Hans asked, “How’s your back?” I said my back didn’t hurt, but my arm did. I considered finishing the pitch and Hans said, “Bring me up to that ledge while you think about it.” By the time he arrived I had decided that I had enough for today and let him lead it. He found it challenging also and jammed in a couple of small TCU’s admonishing me as he went, “Bill, use cams!” Above he climbed a somewhat unprotected slab, but I was soon on belay. We didn’t have a nut tool with us (yes, that isn’t smart when carrying nuts) and I couldn’t clean the stopper that caught my fall. I left it and continued up the pitch. Mimicking Hans’ movements, I climbed the pitch clean. The key was to throw the right leg way right as soon as possible.
We hiked off to the south down the smooth slabs of the dome. As we approached the parking lot, I noticed two figures watching us from a picnic table. Sure enough, it was Hardly and Judy. They had done two routes on Stately Pleasure Dome (South Crack and the Great White Book) and two routes on Low Profile Dome (Golfer’s Route and Darth Vader’s Revenge) and then relaxed. We were all ready to head for some dinner at the TPR – the restaurant just down the east side of Tioga Pass.
Table 1: Summary of Domes Climbed
|
Dome |
Left car time |
Base of route time |
Top of route time |
Back at car time |
Route time |
Total pitches |
|
South Crack on Stately Pleasure Dome (5.8, 6 pitches) |
7:26 a.m. |
7:30 a.m. |
7:57 a.m. |
8:04 a.m. |
0:27 |
6 |
|
Dike Route on Pywiack (5.9, 4 pitches) |
8:09 a.m. |
8:12 a.m. |
8:39 a.m. |
8:48 a.m. |
0:27 |
10 |
|
Golfer’s Route on Low Profile Dome (5.7, 2 pitches) |
8:57 a.m. |
9:01 a.m. |
9:15 a.m. |
9:20 a.m. |
0:14 |
12 |
|
West Crack on DAFF Dome (5. 9, 6 pitches) |
9:34 a.m. |
9:50 a.m. |
10:16 a.m. |
10:35 a.m. |
0:26 |
18 |
|
Regular Route on Fairview Dome (5.9, 11 pitches) |
10:47 a.m. |
11:12 a.m. |
12:23 p.m. |
12:51 p.m. |
1:11 |
29 |
|
Knobulator on East Cottage Dome (5.10c, 1 pitch) |
1:08 p.m. |
1:26 p.m. |
1:46 p.m. |
1:58 p.m. |
0:20 |
30 |
|
North Face of Dog Dome (5.8, 3 pitches) |
2:40 p.m. |
3:28 p.m. |
4:03 p.m. |
N/A |
0:35 |
33 |
|
Direct Northwest Face of Lembert Dome (5.10c, 5 pitches) |
N/A |
4:31 p.m. |
5:35 p.m. |
5:54 p.m. |
1:04 |
38 |
We spent a total of 4:44 climbing – averaging about 7.5 minutes for both of us to climb each pitch. We spent 1:39 either driving or drinking, eating, etc. at the car. The remaining 4:05 was spent hiking to and from each route. Judging from the time spent hiking, I’d guess we hiked about 12 miles. Without my trusty altimeter watch I can only guess at the total vertical on the day: 6000 feet. The total time for the outing was 10 hours and 28 minutes. That seems like a pretty long day and I was certainly dragging on the last route, but it didn’t seem that bad until then. Breaking the day up into so many smaller sections with nice breaks at the car made it seem easier.
What a great day this was. Moving fast over such wonderful rock with a great, enthusiastic partner is such a wonderful experience. Tuolumne is such a beautiful place and the weather was perfect for us. We met some very friendly folks and they merely smiled at our crazy antics. I was pretty wiped out at the end of the day, but that’s the way I like it.
At the TPR we sat right next to the two climbers that were on Cry In Time Again. We told them we were the climbers to their right and they said, “Wow, you guys were moving really fast.”
Monday, June 4, 2001: Tyrolean Traverse
In years past, it has been quite rare for me to repeat a route, but recently I've been more interested in working routes and doing them faster. This trip I was also looking forward to repeating some of the classics with my friends. While I had previously climbed the Lost Arrow Spire, I did not do the famous Tyrolean traverse to get off the top. My partner on this previous trip was too intimidated by the Tyrolean, but this time my partners wanted to climb it because of the Tyrolean.
Loobster had spent the previous weekend in the Valley with another friend, but he met up with us at Hans’ house on Sunday night. He’d be joining the party until Friday morning and was Gung-Ho for the Spire. We packed that night and set the alarms for 6 a.m.
We were hiking up the Falls Trail around 7 a.m. My friend John Black has run up this trail in 48 minutes. We elected to hike it instead, as we were heavily laden with gear. We needed four ropes to complete this adventure. Each climbing team of two would need a single lead rope, but we needed two additional ropes to set-up the Tyrolean Traverse from the summit of the spire back to the rim. It took us an hour and fifty minutes to climb up to the winter closure gate – a distance John ran in 48 minutes.
From the bridge above the falls, it was still a good mile over to Yosemite Point overlooking the Lost Arrow Spire. We continued up the trail at a moderate pace and soon found ourselves at the big tree that would serve as our Tyrolean anchor. We firmly attached one rope and sent Hardly down with the second rope. I told him there was an anchor below and that he could merely fix the second rope to that anchor so that everyone could descend quickly and easily. I’d handle tying the ropes together so that we could drag them up the climb to the top of the spire.
We waited and waited for the “Off rappel!” call from Hardly, but it didn’t come. We figured he couldn’t find the anchors and had to tie on the second rope in mid-rappel and then figure out how to jug past the knot. On the rim, I grilled Judy on how to perform this feat so that it would go smoothly when she got down there. The key here is to know how to use ascenders and to tie a small knot to connect the two ropes, since you’ll have to down jumar over this knot and you’ll need to be able to reach your upper ascender.
Nearly an hour passed without a call from Hardly. What was going on? We decided to send the Loobster down on a second line to rescue Hardly. I thought this was a good idea regardless since it would make it so much easier for Loobster and Judy to complete the descent. With two ropes, they could rappel down one rope past the knot on the other, clapping on the jugs to the current rappel rope, switch rappel device to the other rope, down jumar a couple feet to take up the slack in the second rope and be off. It should take a couple minutes at most - at least that was theory. In practice it took Loobster and Judy 30 minutes each to perform this action.
Once Judy was off the second rope, I dropped it into the notch and started my rappel. I found both a nice, two-bolt anchor and a small ledge. I stopped on the ledge, pulled up the second rope to re-tie the knot at that point, switched my rappel device underneath the knot and was in the notch in no time. Apparently, Hardly hadn’t found the anchor since we was on the other side of the buttress. I don’t know why the others didn’t see it since they rappelled the same rope as I did, but I think they were just so focused on passing the knot via their ascenders. It turned out to be good practice for everyone and we were in no hurry anyway, having only two pitches to climb. This descent took us two hours!
Hardly still wasn’t leading by the time I got to the notch. Clearly, no one was in a hurry here. It was a beautiful day and I relaxed in the notch and talked with the Loobster while Hardly made the extremely exposed moves out of the notch and up the initial thin crack. The route up the spire consists of two pitches. The first starts out of the left side of the notch and immediately gives the climber 1600 feet of sheer vertical exposure. The climbing is initially in a small corner that leads to a nice ledge. Above the ledge is a hand/fist crack that shoots up to the comfortable Salathé Ledge. Once Hardly got here, he fixed the rope and Judy started to jug – with the Tyrolean rope attached to her harness. In order to set-up the Tyrolean traverse, we’d have to keep one end of the rope with us. The other end was firmly attached to the tree on the rim. Once we reached the summit of the spire, we’d attach it to the spire and go across.
Loobster started leading the pitch as soon as Judy was jugging and he moved fairly quickly up to the fist crack. Here things slowed a bit, but soon I was on belay. I wanted to try free climbing the pitch since there was no rush and I had a toprope. The first pitch is supposedly 5.10+ and I found it quite challenging. It is a cool mix of very technical stemming, smearing and high steps and then a burly hand/fist crack section. I freed the lower section except for one tug on a quickdraw at the second hard high step. I couldn’t find a sufficiently positive hold on which to pull. Then on the crack section, I was doing fine and utilizing some key face footholds for stemming rests, but when they disappeared my tape-less hands cried for relief. I pulled on one cam here. I think I could go back and free this entire pitch with a little more effort.
When I got to the Salathé Ledge, Hardly was only a couple of placements into the next lead. There is a very tricky move early on in this pitch and Hardly finally solved it by threading a tiny wired stopper through the eye of an ancient piton. Later, while doing the Tyrolean Traverse, a member of another climbing team would poke his head around the corner of the spire and shout to me, “How do you do the start of the second pitch?” It baffled more than one team.
Once by that section, the rest of the pitch is mostly fixed and Hardly zoomed to the top. Loobster didn’t want to lead the next pitch, so I did. I didn’t try to free anything, though – it’s a bit scarier on lead. I arrived on the top and we talked through the logistics of the traverse. At first we pulled the rope fairly tight and we should have left it this way, but when I lowered Hardly out, he only went down a few feet before he would have had to start jugging the horizontal line. The reason for this is that the rim is considerably higher than the top of the spire.
We loosened up the rope and bit and then Hardly clipped himself to the fixed rope via a couple of locking carabiners and I lowered him on a second line. He dropped out to the middle of the abyss and then slapped on his ascenders. He first just pulled himself across the line and then had to start jugging the nearly vertical free-hanging line. It was tough going until he got his feet on the far wall and then it was just ascending a normal fixed line.
Judy’s stomach was churning about the prospect of this traverse, but once out there she did fine and was soon on the rim. As each climber hit the rim, they quickly moved over to a better vantage point for watching the antics of the remaining climbers. Hardly shot more than a roll of film of us crossing. Loobster went across with one of our remaining ropes. He didn’t want to put it on his back as he feared it would tip him upside down and he be stuck dangling on the rope in the middle of the traverse. Instead he clipped it to his harness. He went across quickly and easily. Finally it was my turn. I had to tie the two ropes together like I was doing a rappel so that we could retrieve the ropes. Then I took a third rope and used it to rappel off the spire. I didn’t get far (only twenty feet) before the rope pulled tight on me and it was time to start jugging. The toughest part was pulling down my rappel line. I was worried that I’d be the only one who couldn’t perform the traverse in a reasonable manner, but my crossing went very well since the rope was tighter for me due to tying the ropes together (the other rope was a bit shorter).
Once on the rim we didn’t waste much time packing up and heading down. We planned for a long next day and wanted to start eating and relaxing. Hiking down the trail, we passed a couple coming down with a porta-ledge attached to one pack. Judy, who was hiking ahead of us, had already spoken with them and they had known about our climb. As we passed by the guy, a lean, muscular man who was clearly a climbing stud, said, “Alright, Lost Arrow Spire as a foursome in a day from the Valley floor!” I stopped and looked at him a bit before responding, “Are you pulling our leg?” We certainly weren’t fast – we were slow. The route is only two pitches long and the approach, while arduous, is nothing that would make a day ascent very difficult. He responded that he was sincere and we chatted a bit longer. They were coming off of the Muir Wall and I joked if they had freed it, knowing that Caldwell and Sager had just done the first free ascent. They mentioned adding some new bolts to the belays.
They asked what was next for us and I said the Steck-Salathé. He told us that he’d added belay bolts to that route also. I was now curious who this route maintenance Samaritan was. Could he possibly be someone that I knew by reputation:
“What’s your name?”
“Bruce.”
“Bruce who?”
“Bruce Bindner.”
“Dang! I know you. Brutus of Wyde! I know you from your hilarious posts to rec.climbing.”
I introduced myself and my friends to Brutus and Em “Nurse Ratchet”, his female companion. He graciously recognized my name from some of my posts. We also had some mutual friends: Lord Slime and Opie Taylor. Bruce knew that I like to climb fast and mentioned something along these lines. I felt silly receiving some praise from a climber who I knew to be much better and faster. I can easily see why everyone that meets him likes him. He’s very congenial. They offered to give us a new topo of the Steck-Salathé route, but it was down at their car and we said we’d be fine. As it turns out, I’d be very curious to see his topo of this route. After the next day, I’d draw a new one myself.
Tuesday, June 5, 2001: Steck-Salathé
Back in 1985, this was the first wall route I ever did. Some will question whether this is a “wall” route at all. Nevertheless, my partner Fred Yenny[1] and I chose this route to prepare us for Half Dome. We did it wall style because that was the only way we’d be capable of getting it done. We hauled, spent a night at the Flying Buttress and got down at 9 p.m. on the second day. I didn’t remember much from this ascent, but figured if I could do it in two days then, we should be able to cruise it in a day now. I forgot that I had jugged half the pitches on my first ascent.
Topo 1: My topo for the Steck –Salathé (rack: doubles through #2, singles of #3, #3.5, #4, #5 – all Camalots)
We were up at 5 a.m. and, after some breakfast and the drive down to the Valley, hiking by 5:45 a.m up the Four Mile Trail (incidentally, this trail is about 5.3 miles long and leads from the Valley to Glacier Point). Our plan was to climb the route as two parties of two: Loobster and I and Hardly and Judy. We each carried small Camelback packs with water, some food, and a headlamp, but once we pulled off the trail, we decided to strip even lighter. We went with one Camelback per team, dropped our extra shirt and our headlamps. We were committed to a fast ascent.
The approach to the base of this route is long, 4th class, and quite exposed in spots. We moved cautiously but expediently up this terrain to the base of the route. The first pitch looked hard and long and it was both. This pitch is rated 5.8 (the squeeze section is rated 5.7) and we assumed it would be one of the quicker, easier pitches on the route. It wasn’t. This pitch and its crazy rating is probably very useful in turning back people unprepared to climb 16 more pitches like it.
The pitch starts steep and burly, but with hand jams. Forty feet up is a serious, though short, squeeze chimney that was all I could handle. We brought along a #5 Camalot per Bruce’s suggestion and I placed it, tipped out, in the bottom of this squeeze. I then thrashed my way nowhere for a good five minutes. I took another look at it and desperately tried to jam my helmeted head into the crack with no luck. Things were not going well. Of course, I’d have cruised it if my helmet were smaller…
Sweating profusely, I finally got up this section and then balked at the next wide section. Damn, I thought, what a bitch. Here I stemmed up the outside until I could clip a fixed sling and launched into a very committing lieback to avoid the wide section. Finally, fully spent, I arrived at the belay. My antics did not install confidence in my partners.
The Loobster followed much more quickly than I had led, but pulled a couple of times on gear to conserve strength. Nevertheless, he was still worked at the belay and immediately expressed second thoughts about continuing. We dilly-dallied a bit on the ledge due to these thoughts, but eventually, I started to move up the second pitch. I figured at least I’d do that pitch and then could still rappel off. As Hardly approached the ledge, Loobster expressed his concerns to him and wondered if he thought Judy would feel the same way. If the first pitch also worked Judy, then they could rappel off together and Hardly and I could continue. Hardly assured Loobster that wouldn’t be the case: “Judy likes wide cracks. This pitch will be no problem for her so stop thinking about going down Loobster.” I heard this, as I was only thirty feet up, and Loobster yells up to me with confidence, “Okay, Bill, I’m committed. We’re going to the top.” “Alright”, I think and cruise up the long 5.8 pitch (which, incidentally is much easier than the first 5.8 pitch).
After I arrived at the belay ledge and clipped into two old pins, I yelled down “Off belay.” Once I pulled the rope up and called “On belay,” I heard Loobster respond, “Tom (Hardly’s real name) will be coming next.” It turned out that Judy had the same doubts. There was an emotional scene and Loobster and Judy bailed. Hardly needed to wait for them to rappel off, so that he could drop their line. We’d continue with just my 70-ounce Camelback and the single lead rope we had.
I led the 3rd pitch, a real 5.7 pitch, up to the base of the Wilson Overhang. This pitch is rated 5.8 in the topo, but we knew from Bruce that it was more like 10b. Hardly took his time figuring out the protection at the start of this bulging flare. He backed down from the moves once or twice before committing and grunting his way up. Following, with the security of a toprope, I found some easier combinations. I solved the opening moves with a high-step and some judicious palming on the left wall. Above this move the climb is a serious grunt, but stemming the left foot makes it reasonable. The flare is overhanging, but it is a nice hand size for the right hand. The difficulties involve moving up the right hand, since you can’t really get your left hand in the crack. This is done via chimney bridging and stemming.
The next pitch is a 5.9 squeeze, but the topo shows an alternative out to the right that is 5.8. This alternative is completely invisible from the belay and I started grunting up the squeeze. Thinking I was tricky, I found a nice placement for a red Alien in the wall behind me, but all this did was help macramé myself into the wall as if I was caught in a giant spider’s web. Extricating myself from this mess, I spied a hidden crack out to the right. A huge stem and a dicey step-across move gained me this lieback crack and I ran it out until it merged back with the squeeze chimney.
From the top of the squeeze, I made a mostly unprotected 5.7 traverse around to the right. There are some good holds here and it ends at a small stance with a belay anchor. Most of the belays on this route have a fixed anchor of either pins, old bolts, or, occasionally, new bolts. I usually backed up the belays with another piece unless the bolts were new.
The next two pitches are rated 5.7 on the topo, but the first is a long, wide, burly affair with sections of 5.8+ offwidth, fist, wide hands, etc. Use your wide pieces judiciously here as they have to last a long way. There are rests to break up the climbing, but it is hard and tiring.
There are a number of options on the next pitch. I climbed up the right corner above the belay for about thirty feet before traversing across to the left and headed for a right facing corner system on the left side of the face. The climbing over there is fun and pretty easy – probably really 5.7. I ran out the rope to the sloping bivy below the passage through the Flying Buttress. Doing this takes about 180 feet of rope and combines the “4th class” pitch, which is really 5.7 jamming.
Hardly joined me and we climbed over the tree and burrowed through the buttress to the other side. Here we found a nice two-bolt chain rappel anchor. Attached to this anchor was a laminated picture of Derek Hersey who died when he fell off this route while unroped soloing. We rappelled sixty feet, past a great bivy ledge, to the base of the 5.9 variation pitch, where there was a bolt anchor. Looking back up this rappel, I can’t imagine the downclimb is rated 4th class. It looked 5.9 to me.
We finished the rappel at 12:30 p.m. and I figured we’d make the top by 5:30 p.m. We might have been close, if not for a couple of mistakes. Hardly led the next 5.9+ pitch and I found it long, tiring, and thought provoking. I thought the crux was a thin section before the wide overhang at the top. To pass the small overhanging with the wide crack, I used some stems and liebacking. Above this more physical, 5.8 climbing led to a belay ledge.
The next pitch (5.9+) works up and right to get onto the lower angled slab, then straight up to a difficult high-step move over a small “roof.” I protected this section with a yellow Alien and then ran it out twenty feet above this with no sign of gear. I was started to get very concerned and called down to Hardly about the situation. Just then I noticed a shiny new bolt at about ankle height. Clipping this bolt from my high position was probably the crux move on this pitch. Above this the climbing is really well protected by small Aliens (I used both green’s, yellows, and reds on this pitch) and some other fixed pieces. The climbing is thin cracks and face moves and the angle is much less than the rest of route. It provides a nice respite from the wide burly stuff, but it doesn’t last long because the next pitch is one of the hardest on the route.
The face pitch ends at the foot of the great chimney that cleaves the upper half of the face. It starts with a difficult 5.8+/5.9- offwidth and after seeing Hardly work so hard on this with his right side in, I climbed it left side in and things seemed to go a lot easier. Above the offwidth is a very sustained, insecure, runout, back-feet chimney. It is possible to rest most anywhere on this pitch, but every inch gained takes a lot of work and this is a time consuming and tiring pitch. It ends on a block deep in the chimney at the base of the famous Narrows pitch.
Photo 1: Bruce Bindner about to enter the Narrows (photo by Greg Opland)
The Narrows pitch was one of the biggest reasons for coming back to repeat this climb. Since we hauled the last time we climbed this pitch, we had to go outside the Narrows as the haulbag wouldn’t fit through. I felt deprived of one of the more famous pitches in the Valley. At first glance, the start of this pitch seems to require levitation. It continues up the back-feet chimney for ten feet and then the chimney is roofed off except for a fist crack on one wall. This fist crack opens in one location to allow a body to pass through. Getting the body up into this pod isn’t that hard as your feet are pushing on the far wall. Once here I could place a bomber #4 Camalot and, in fact, you can pretty much have gear over your head throughout the crux of this pitch by walking the Camalot up once or twice.
So, I was in the back-feet chimney position and my thighs were pressed against the underside of the roof. To go any further I needed to bend my legs at the hip and when I do this, my legs will be dangling uselessly beneath me. The crux moves involve shoulder rolling and chicken-winging up into the slot until you can get legs in the squeeze. Once I got my legs in I felt secure and pulled the #4 Camalot completely. I squeezed up, snaking my way through the widest section for about thirty feet until I found a place for a #1 Camalot at a nice two-inch ledge. Having attempted and failed to get through the Harding Slot on Astroman, I can attest that this pitch is much, much easier because it is considerably wider.
Before climbing this pitch I stripped off all my gear: Camelback, helmet, rack, approach shoes, etc. I led this pitch with only four Camalots: 1, 2, 4, and 5. Only the #4 and #1 are necessary for this first section. Once at this stance, I placed the #1 Camalot and pulled up all the gear, including Hardly’s helmet, shoes, etc. I was still deep inside a squeeze chimney, so I left all the gear here except for a few pieces of gear and continued up and out the squeeze into a dihedral. In the corner of the dihedral was the squeeze chimney crack, now turned into an offwidth. There is a fixed piton belay out on this face, but I didn’t belay there as it sucks. I continued up a fairly challenging offwidth, which I protected with the #5 Camalot and then another #1 Camalot in a smaller crack on the face just before the belay. Thankfully some stems for the left foot make this section more reasonable. I arrived at a big, sloping ledge that filled the whole gully and found an old bolt and a new bolt at the belay. I belayed Hardly up to the first #1 Camalot inside the chimney where he released the gear and I hauled it all up to the belay by dropping him a loop of rope.
Hardly led off and across a sandy ramp to a corner/chimney system behind a huge wall/boulder that is in the main gully system above us. Once above this barrier, Hardly got off route to the left. He noticed the wide, long, intimidating chimney in the right corner but figured it couldn’t possibly be 5.6. It wasn’t. He belayed off route and when I can up, I set him straight on the right direction to go. He headed off again up the chimney and had a hellacious time squeezing behind the lower chockstone (there are two prominent chockstones in this chimney – you go behind both and belay on top of the second one). He went left side in, so I followed right side in. I hung all the gear below me, including my helmet when I followed this section and didn’t find it that bad. Above this chockstone is another long, feet-back chimney. These wide chimneys are a bit scary as they are so easy to fall out of. The tight chimneys are more difficult but they are almost impossible to fall out of.
The belay on top of the chockstone has two new bolts. While re-racking here, I dropped a quickdraw and it fell clear down to the bottom of this pitch, but no further. Hardly didn’t want to leave it and volunteered to go down and get it. I think he just wanted to re-climb the pitch and prove to himself that it wasn’t as difficult as it felt the first time. He stripped off all his gear and I lowered him down for the draw. The roundtrip probably took about fifteen minutes.
I led off on the “5.7 mantle” pitch. It ascends a left-facing corner via a nice crack and good protection to the mantle move, which is probably about 5.7. Above here the ground is easy and broken and I was soon at the base of the next pitch. Since I had a lot of rope left, I elected to string the pitches together. This would prove to quite a test for me as I was now, finally, full-on in the sun and sweating strongly.
The next pitch is a very steep, 5.9 hand crack with wide sections that can mostly be passed via reaches. I found it quite strenuous and was tired at the top, but still had to climb the 5.7 double cracks up and right. I was out of gear that would fit the 3-4” crack on the left and the right crack was a seam. I thought I was in for a scary runout and even contemplated belaying where I was when I noticed two fixed pins in the right crack. Climbing up this section really drained me. I felt it was more like 5.8. At least with the rope drag and hot sun, I was working very hard here. I was very glad to exit right onto 3rd class terrain and I stretched the rope to its full length in getting to the belay tree.
The topo lists the top section as 3rd class, but this is incorrect. I remember my first trip up here where we unroped and I put the haulbag on my back. The route goes right out to the edge of the face and is insanely exposed. The climbing is low 5th class and the final slab is probably 5.5 or 5.6. I demanded a rope back then and now we just treated it as the final pitch. Hardly ran out most of the rope to the summit and I soon joined him, thankful to be able to take off my shoes and untie the rope. We didn’t linger long, and after getting out some food, started down.
We had started the climb somewhere between 7-7:30 a.m. and we topped out at 7:09 p.m, so almost exactly 12 hours to climb this route. We had done 17 pitches instead of the 15 shown on the topo. Doing more pitches instead of less was a big change for me, but combining these long wide pitches wasn’t much of an option with our rack. Hence, simul-climbing was even more ridiculous. We were absolutely flabbergasted that Timmy O’Neil and Dean Potter had simul-soloed this route, trailhead to trailhead, in 2.5 hours! I just cannot comprehend that. We’re pretty fast hikers and it took us two hours to just do the descent! The approach had taken us over an hour. Those guys are simply amazing.
The descent from the top was a bit easier than I had remembered it, but both previous times (I’ve also climbed the Chounaird-Herbert route) I’ve had a haulbag with me and once we came down in the dark. Without the bag and in the light, the descent isn’t too bad, though still serious, tiring, and long. We did one 20-foot rappel that we probably could have avoided, but wanted to be safe.
Thankfully, we hit the Four Mile Trail just before dark. Loobster and Judy, who spent the day lounging about the Valley second-guessing their decision, had retrieved our stashed packs. Our late arrival did wonders towards confirming their decision to retreat as the correct move. Loobster and Judy had already hiked up the trail a couple of times to meet us and listen for us with no avail, but Loobster made a third trip and we met him ten minutes from the car, which we reached at 9:05 p.m.
I was totally whipped. Hardly and I collapsed into the back of the car for the ride back to Hans’ house. We told stories of the endless difficulties on the drive. After a shower and dinner, I didn’t get to bed until about midnight.
Wednesday, June 6, 2001: Floating the Merced
The whole time I was on Sentinel, I kept looking down at the rafts on the Merced River. I thought what a wonderful time my family would have doing that. Since we were taking a rest day, I decided I wanted to float the river to see if it was a relaxing as hoped. Loobster and Judy were going to go off for some climbing and Hardly was going to join me in the rafts. At least that was the plan when we arrived at the raft place. Once there, Judy and Loobster decided to join us in the float-athon.
This is a great, relaxing way to spend the day. You don’t even have to paddle. At times we were even being blown upstream as we lazed around in the boat. We pulled in a couple of times to relax and Judy even made a run to the store when we went by the lodge. Loobster surreptitiously brought a six-pack of bottled beer – a double violation he wasn’t aware of until getting in the boat. No alcohol or glass bottles are allowed. We did our part in cleaning up the river, though. I spotted a bottle on the bottom in a shallow section and was able to reach down and retrieve it. Hence we finished the trip with more bottles than when we started. It amazes me that anyone would simply toss their empty into the river. One has to hope this was an undiscovered accident.
We floated for about four hours or so then took the bus back to Curry Village and our car. We wanted to get home to prepare for Half Dome the next day. Loobster was excited about guiding us up there and Judy was going to meet us later in the day – after hiking to Cloud’s Rest with the Loobster. Hardly and I promised to belay Judy as long as she wanted on Friday.
Thursday, June 7, 2001: Half Dome
The alarm went off at 3 a.m. and we groggily got up and dressed. Breakfast was a quiet affair and soon we were driving for the Valley. I dozed in the back and before I knew it, we were hiking up the road. It was 4 a.m.
The Loobster had previously scoped the slabs approach for us, but we still made the mistake of walking clear to Mirror Lake on the road before reversing ourselves and crossing to the other side of the stream. Loobster did a great job in locating the indistinct spot where the climber’s trail leaves the hiking trail and soon we were sweating up steep slopes and across steep slabs.
This approach is grueling and a bit scary. There are five fixed ropes that are ascended batman style. Some of these ropes are on very steep ground. Knots have been tied in the ropes to make things easier, but it was still a bit stressful. It took us about 2.5 hours with our mistake at the start. It could be done in two hours by moving a bit more quickly and knowing the route. It isn’t very hard to follow, but there are sometimes two sets of lines: the fixed, knotted ropes for going up and occasionally a fixed rappel line.
Hardly started up the first pitch at 7 a.m. He’d be leading the first block of six pitches and I’d be jugging along behind. We took a small rack for this route: doubles to #2 Camalot and then singles of #3, #3.5, and #4. The second wore a small Camelback pack with 100 ounces of water, some food, our second layer of clothing. The second also wore our insurance: a second 200’ 8.5 mm rope – in case we had to bail.
As soon as we got to the base we noticed a party leading the 12th pitch. They were hauling and we assumed they spent the night on the ledge at the top of pitch 11. We hoped to catch and pass them on Big Sandy. We could hear them very clearly as we climbed up this lower section – so clearly in fact that we thought there was yet another party between us.
Hardly had some trouble figuring out the best way to start the first pitch. He went up on way, then downclimbed and went another way, then downclimbing again to remove some troublesome gear. Once he got on track he moved steadily to the first belay. He pulled on a piece or two at the 10c section in order to move faster.
I jugged up and we switched ends of the rope (this is a great technique for blocks as you don’t have to re-stack the rope and it is easy to escape the belay) The next pitch is 5.9 and pretty sustained at the start and then easier to the belay. I jugged once again. We repeated this process on the third 5.8 pitch and then Hardly led the hard 4th pitch. This pitch starts with 5.11 climbing, which Hardly aided, to a bolt ladder which leads to a long, sustained 5.9+ thin crack. Hardly loved the crack and just about ran up this section, placing a couple of #1 Camalots for protection.
The 5.9 pitches that make up the 5th and 6th pitches on Half Dome, if located on the Steck-Salathé route, would be rated 4th class. The climbing on these pitches is fun, solid, and well protected. The climbing flows along nicely and is not the constant struggle and thrash that characterize the Steck-Salathé. Both routes are great, but very different. In fact, these pitches are so moderate that I just followed them free, with a tight rope on the 5.9 sections.
I took over the lead at the sixth belay, leading off at 9:45 a.m.. I didn’t have much to do on this block as it involved mostly easily climbing. We simul-climbed the next three pitches (5.7, 5.7, 4th class) with Hardly working the Gri-Gri on the bottom end for the first time. He was a little skeptical to begin with, but was really enjoying himself by the time I clipped the belay at the bottom of the Robbins Traverse.
We did the next two pitches in conventional style. The first was the bolt ladder to the pendulum right. I completed the pendulum on the second try and Hardly followed the pendulum. The next pitch is 5.9 and the protection is pretty much non-existent for the fifteen-foot traverse right at the start. Then the climbing protects well and is quite fun. This pitch is short and I was soon at the bivy ledge atop pitch 11. It was Hardly’s turn again already. I got to relax on this ledge and gaze at the incredible views. I put my pile sweater on so that I wouldn’t get chilled. It was 11:30 a.m. as Hardly started up the second half of the route.
This next pitch starts with a 5.6 chimney and then rambles up some easy ground to a step left into a steep corner with a thin crack. This crack goes free at 11c, but Hardly would aid it today. At the top of the corner he had to do a tension traverse back right into a 5.7 squeeze chimney which started the next long, three-pitch chimney section of the route. While Hardly was completing the top of this pitch, I was simul-climbing the 5.6 chimney and the easy section up to the crack. As soon as the rope was fixed, I was jugging the 11c corner.
The chimney pitches are fun to climb. They aren’t like the normal horror shows for which Yosemite is so famous. These chimneys have hand cracks in them and aren’t very claustrophobic. In fact, the chimney comes in handy in providing rests about anywhere you’d want one. There is a grunt 5.9 squeeze at the top, but it is far easier than the 5.7 wide pitches on the Steck-Salathé. I was able to jug all these pitches without removing my Camelback pack or the extra rope on my back, though just barely at the squeeze section.
Above the chimney pitches is a sweeping ramp pitch, which gets increasingly steeper and harder towards the top, ending with a 5.9 crux. Hardly topped this section, clipped a bolt, and then descended 4th class/low 5th class terrain down and right to belay right at the base of the Double Cracks pitch. I jugged to the first bolt and then Hardly belayed me down to his belay.
The next pitch is fun, steep crack climbing and it ends on Big Sandy Ledge. The crack is inset in a tiny depression and when it came time to follow the rope had slipped inside the crack and behind a huge flake. The rope pulled fine, but there was no way to jug the line where the rope was, so I just free climbed the pitch, arriving on Big Sandy at 3 p.m. Coincidentally, this was the same time I arrived on Big Sandy the last time I had done the route, when I slept at the top of pitch 6. On that ascent I had to bivy just below the top at 10 p.m. Clearly I hoped to make the summit this time.
On Big Sandy we did catch the other party and, since they planned to spend the night there, there was no problem with passing. After switching the lead/follow gear between us, it was my job to lead us to the top. I French-freed the first forty feet of the first Zig Zag pitch and then got in the aiders. As I aided to the belay, two other climbers, Nils and his partner, arrived on Big Sandy. They were cruising much faster than us and we’d let them by soon enough.
I short fixed the first pitch of the Zig Zags and started leading the next pitch. I couldn’t go very far since I didn’t have a trail line and therefore couldn’t place any gear if I wanted to pull up the rest of the rack from Hardly. Normally you’d belay yourself with a Gri-Gri while leading onwards, but we only had one and Hardly had it. There are a number of other belay solutions, but I didn’t bother with any of them. I used the Russ Mitrovich aid technique. I just kept myself clipped into two good pieces at all times and slowly worked up the second pitch while Hardly cleaned the first.
The second Zig Zag pitch is rated 10b, but it sure looks hard and continuous. Since I started on aid while soloing, I had a hard time getting out of them once Hardly put me on belay. As Nils would say to me later, “Aiders are a vortex.” He’s right. Once in the aiders it is difficult to get out of them. For example, the last pitch of the Zig Zags is rated 11d, but probably most of the pitch is 5.10, yet once you get in the aiders you have a difficult time convincing yourself you could be French-freeing instead of aiding. I need more practice at this.
At the second Zig Zag belay, Hardly called up if there was enough room up there for the other party to join us. Heck, I thought, there wasn’t enough room for one party up here, but I said, “Sure, no problem. Tell those guys to come on up and we’ll let them pass when they get here.” I didn’t want to just sit idle, so I short fixed the pitch again and started leading the last Zig Zag pitch. This time I tied myself to the anchor with fifteen feet of slack – I’m slow aid climber when I don’t have a belay!
When Hardly arrived I was out of rope. He untied my knot and I hauled up the extra gear. These pitches in the Zig Zags are so beautiful and clean. They look really fun to try to free climb. The gear is absolutely bomber. Two thirds of the way up this pitch I let Nils lead on by. I had placed a high piece and clipped my aider to it. I told him to simply climb up my aider to get by me. This was the only point where either team used the other’s gear. As soon as he did this, I was leading up right behind him. It was cool. I was eager to let a faster party pass me as other parties had been nice enough to let me pass in the past. Passing other parties should become more confrontation-free and it seems like things are going that direction. Just because you got on a route first doesn’t seem to be enough justification to “own” the route for as long as it takes you to climb it. Clearly, you deserve a chance to climb in peace and at a reasonable pace, but how many days can you spend on Half Dome before you must let people pass?
Just before the belay, Nils’ partner passed me on the jugs, but I was soon joining Nils at the belay. We chatted while his partner led Thank God Ledge and Hardly jugged my fixed line. Nils and his partner had been doing many similar routes to us, though much harder. They had done the Nose, onsight in 14 hours, the West Face of Sentinel, the Lost Arrow Spire Direct, and now Half Dome. They planned a one-day onsight of the Salathé next. I wonder if that has ever been done?
The Thank God Ledge is such a cool passage. Nils encouraged me to walk it, but I refused. Too scary! You can’t place gear if you walk it. I crawled across and then hand traversed while dragging my trail leg across the top. I placed a couple of pieces of gear in the crack at the back of the ledge and clipped the bolt at the far end. I made the easy step across to the crack and cranked the move over the chockstone into the squeeze chimney. This chimney is rated 5.8 and it is, but it is so short that it seems rather easy. Not to beat a dead horse, but this is much easier than the 5.6 pitch on the Steck-Salathé.
I caught Nils at the belay once again and we chatted some more as I belayed Hardly across the ledge. He took some tension on the rope to pass the squeeze section via some bat-manning and was soon at the ledge. Nils partner had ran the next two pitches together clear to the summit, but it was a 200-foot rope stretcher. I wondered if I could do the same.
The start of the next pitch – the last aid pitch – involves mandatory, unprotected free climbing moves at around 5.8 to reach the first bolt. Once there, I was happy to see such new, shiny bolts. I worked up the ladder to a tension traverse left and then up another ladder. With some high stepping, no placements are required on this pitch. At the belay I still had a lot of rope left and elected to continue on with the 5.8 direct finish to the route. The last time I did this route it was pitch dark by the time I got here and we didn’t know about the direct finish.
The 5.8 “direct” finish is actually a fingertip undercling that traverses almost directly left around the summit overhangs. The holds are very marginal here. The angle isn’t steep, but the footholds are just smears. It seemed more like 5.9 to free this section. It is protected with some fixed pins and a couple of Aliens. At the end of the traverse I was still almost a hundred feet from the summit and I was worried about the rope drag as I’d now turn and head almost directly for the top. There were two pins and a good crack for a belay, so I stopped.
As I was leading this last aid pitch, Loobster peered over the edge of the Diving Board and started talking with Hardly. Judy was there also. They had just arrived on the summit – what perfect timing! They moved to a bit further east to see me at the next belay and watch us climb the last easy pitch to the summit.
Hardly did a great job jugging the severely traversing line and then I cruised the easy ground to the summit where Loobster and Judy immediately gave me some water. My last drink of water was on Big Sandy and I was starting to get very thirsty. Hardly followed the last pitch free, topping out at 7 p.m. – almost exactly 12 hours after we started the route. This was much faster than my previous ascent almost ten years ago, but more than twice the time my friend John Black had taken. And of course we were much slower than the team that flew by us in the Zig Zags. The route has been done in under two hours! Speed is all relative. Were we fast or slow? It depends on whom you ask.
But that didn’t matter much to me. I was really satisfied with climbing the face in an efficient, fun manner. We didn’t haul anything and we didn’t need headlamps. We climbed light and fast and that made the ascent so much more enjoyable. There wasn’t much sitting around and really no stress. The two parties we encountered were very friendly and we had no problems passing one and getting passed by the other. I really enjoy this route and will return to climb it again. The climbing is so fun and the rock and protection so good. I’d like to do a “free as can be” ascent sometime. The biggest barrier to this route is the huge approach and descent.
We ate and re-packed the gear for the long hike out. Loobster and Judy had indeed hiked all the way up to Cloud’s Rest before hiking back up to Half Dome to meet us on the summit. They also had time for a couple of naps. We’d take the trail down and do the final hour by headlamp, but the worst part, by far, were the horrendous mosquitoes – I really hate those little bastards. I felt pretty strong on the summit and we set a strong pace on the descent, at least until it got dark. I started to fade then. Loobster and Judy had hiked about 26 miles that day and done about 9000 vertical feet, so they were even more eager to reach the car. Our car-to-car time was 18:20.
Rack: one set of stoppers, including a couple of small ones, doubles of Aliens through red, Camalots through #2, then #3, #3.5, and #4. Most pitches do not require carrying the 3, 3.5, and 4. Six quickdraws and eight long slings – more if you want to simul-climb or combine pitches. It is interesting to note that when the speed record for this route was set (1:53 by Jim Herson and Hans Florine), Jim led the entire route and only retrieved gear once – at the Robbins Traverse. How could this be done without hundred foot runouts? My guess at the answer: fixed gear! There is lots of fixed gear on this route and bringing a bunch of slings allows you to carry a smaller rack. Of course, as was reiterated to me earlier in this trip, fixed gear isn’t always reliable.
Friday, June 8, 2001: Snow Creek Trail
Today was supposed to be Judy’s day to lead and Hardly and I were going to be the belayers, but she underestimated how much yesterday was going to take out of her. She needed a rest day as bad as Hardly and I. Instead we lounged around the house, reading and even writing a trip report. Around noon “Flyin’Brian” McCray came by to look a partner for something hard and fast, but found only us gumbies. He told us about his record ascent of Zenyatta Mondatta with Jose Pereyra. They did the route in 26:25. They broke the route up into four four-pitch blocks with Brian leading the first and third block. The first went in 4.5 hours, the second in 5.5 hours, the third in 8 hours and the last in 8.5 hours. They started at 5:48 a.m. on June 5th and topped out at 8:13 a.m. Brian took a short fall early when a flake broke while hooking in the wrong direction. Jose fell twice. First, over a roof on the 13th pitch while leading in the dark and then on the 14th pitch he fell and ripped two pieces, but still managed to fall onto his daisy. Almost every move on this route is aid.
He also told us funny stories of eluding the rangers while camping in their van in the Valley. Brian’s wife (at the time), Roxanna was climbing with Bobbi Bensman and Bobby mouthed off to the rangers. The rangers retaliated by watching their van like a hawk. They had been sleeping in the van, which was just parked in a turn-out in the Valley. One morning the rangers started banging hard on the van for them to come out, but they didn’t make a sound. The rangers couldn’t be sure they were inside of the van, but felt very confident they were. They banged and banged, but no one emerged. Eventually, they drove away but only to the other side of the street. Brian spent a half hour peeking out the window and waiting for them to depart before making a mad dash for the cafeteria. I guess they don't call him “Flyin' Brian” for nothing!
Hans also reported to us that Leo Houlding had freed every pitch on the Leaning Tower (grade unknown) except for the opening bolt ladder (how many pitches is this?). After doing that Holding with an unknown partner climbed the Leaning Tower in 1:59 – almost half the previous record of 3:21 by Hans and Andy Puhvel.
This past Sunday, June 10th, Jim Herson and Peter Coward attempted to link the Salathé Wall on El Cap with the Regular Northwest Face of Half Dome. They would “fast free” the Salathé and then head for Half Dome. Herson linked the Salathé with the Nose using this technique last year, but it took more than 24 hours. Herson has freed every pitch on the Salathé except for the Teflon Corner (avoided by almost everyone else – they take the Huber variation), including the 5.13b pitch that is above the Ear (also avoided by everyone else – they do a 5.11d face variation into the 5.11 offwidth of Bermuda Dunes).
Finally, at around 3:30 p.m., Hardly, Judy and I decided to head into the Valley. I wanted to check out the Snow Creek trail that I gazed upon on our Half Dome climb and I needed to pick up some milk. They dropped me off at the stables and I ran/hiked this trail for two hours. This trail climbs at an extreme angle, after pulling off the Mirror Lake loop trail about a mile east of Mirror Lake itself. The views of Half Dome and Quarter Dome are simply spectacular. The trail is also devoid of people and provided me with a nice solitary venture.
Starting just before 4:30, I ran from the stables over to Mirror Lake and then clear to where the trail starts switchbacking up the steep north slope of Tenaya Canyon. I switched over to hiking but kept my pace steady. Fifteen minutes later, I almost stepped on a tiny rattlesnake sunning itself on the warm rocks of the trail. The little devil coiled for a strike and rattled its tail. I squatted and inspected this curious animal, though at a safe distance. It was the smallest rattlesnake I’ve ever seen, probably just a baby, but ready to do battle. The last time I was in Yosemite I also encountered a rattlesnake – on the approach to Snake Dike. I don’t like this trend.
I made plans to meet up with Hardly and Judy at 6:30 p.m. at Curry Village, so I had to turn around before I made the rim. I ran down the trail and over to Curry Village to find Hardly and Judy enjoying an ice cream treat. I grabbed one and some milk before heading back to Hans’ house.
Saturday, June 9, 2001: Falls Trail and Practice on the Salathé
This morning at 8 a.m. I found myself back in Camp 4 at the start of the Falls Trail. This time instead of carrying a rope and a rack, I had a Camelback and an MP3 player. Today I wasn’t trying to bag a spire, but a record. My friend John Black has the very unofficial record for running the Falls Trail at 48 minutes. John and I are usually very closely matched for such endeavors, so I was anxious to measure myself against him.
I said “very unofficial record” because it is simply the fastest time that I know. I’m sure it has been done faster. A talented runner could crush this time and a world-class runner would probably be around 32 minutes for this three-mile ascent. The course ends at the metal gate at the top of the main climb of the Falls Trail. It does not continue to the edge of the Falls. The start is a bit more amorphous. I believe it starts in the Camp 4 parking lot where a short trail leads up to the Valley loop trail, which is followed west a very short distance to where the Falls Trail peels off. At this junction there is a sign indicating the various distances to sites along the trail: Falls Overlook, Yosemite Point, etc.[2]
I started my watch in the parking lot and took off up the trail at a slow run. You might wonder why I would be running slowly if trying for a record. The reason is that if my pace was fast, I’d be sitting down and taking a rest within a couple of minutes. This trail climbs steeply and continuously over rocky terrain most of the way. Without my missing altimeter watch I cannot give you the gory details that captivate me, but the vertical gain is probably around 2500 feet.
The trail was relatively deserted at this time of day and I only passed three groups on the way up. About one third of the way up the ascent (this was a rough guess from our earlier hike up this trail) there is very sandy section of trail that starts just at an overlook with a metal railing. This is called Columbia Point and I reached it in 17:10[3]. If it was truly one third of the way, I was on pace for a 51:30 ascent.
I pushed on up the sandy hill, still running if very slowly. Above here the trail flattens out and then descends quite a bit. This section is very frustrating because all the lost elevation (probably around 200 vertical feet) must be re-gained, but, on the other hand, it provides a welcome respite from the continuous climbing. I ran very quickly over this section of the course and arrived at a metal closure gate near the bottom of the downhill in 22:30.
The rest of the way is relentless, rocky switchbacks and before I reached 30 minutes, I was forced to start hiking some sections. I’d hike for two minutes and then try to start running again. My emotions would vacillate between believing I was close and then despairing at the distance left to cover. It is difficult to determine where the climbing will stop because the wall on the left is so high. In fact, the wall on the left is many hundreds of feet higher than the top of the trail. The other side of the gully isn’t as high, but is still higher than the end of the course.
I passed by the start of a one-pitch climbing route on the left wall in 32:50. I had better be more than two-thirds the way up, I thought. With five minutes to go (43 minutes of elapsed time) I tried to press, but I was at my limit. I was forced to walk again at 47 minutes when the trail switch backed to the left one more time and discouraged me. I knew the finish would be when I was heading to my right. Once I knew that John’s record was out of reach, I thought about breaking 50 minutes. There always seems to be another milestone in which to set your sights, another reason to keep pushing the pace.
I hit the top gate at 48:43 from the Camp 4 parking lot – 47:58 from the sign at the start of the Falls Trail, where it cuts off the Valley loop trail[4]. So, like on Half Dome, John had bested me once again. I wasn’t disappointed though. There is no shame in being slower than John and I had worked hard on the ascent. Clearly I need more motivational music in my MP3 player.
After catching my breath for a couple minutes, I descended in 37 minutes back to the parking lot for a car-to-car time of 1:28:35. Here I didn’t delay and immediately jumped in and drove to El Cap Meadow. I had earlier dropped off Hardly and Judy there so that Judy could practice some aid climbing and I wanted to catch up to them as soon as possible.
I wasn’t exactly sure where Hardly and Judy were, but it was either on the Nose or somewhere up and left along the base. I soon found them on the first pitch of the Salathé. Judy was well up the first pitch doing her first aid lead. I relaxed at the base and reported my failure on the Falls Trail. Lately I’ve been just missing my running goals. I wanted to go sub-40 in the Bolder Boulder and ran 40:09. Last year in the Pikes Peak Marathon my goal was sub-5 hours. I ran 5:03. Oh well, I aim high - maybe a bit too high.
Judy was calmly aiding up the first pitch and backcleaning aggressively. It looked like she had free climbed the pitch and run things out considerably. Hardly was relaxing in the shade, content to belay Judy for the day. When Judy finished the pitch she fixed the rope and Hardly jugged up to test out Hans’ new, super-light, minimalist cleaning stirrups. Hans had just made them at the Fish climbing shop while over in Bishop. Judy then also aided the second pitch. While this pitch is rated 5.8, it is challenging to free and to aid. It is a wide, slick, slanting crack. She did fine once again and as soon as she reached the anchors, Hardly lowered her back down to the belay and she rappelled the rope Hardly trailed while cleaning the first pitch.
With Judy back on the ground, it was my turn to climb. I free climbed up the first pitch to Hardly. I really enjoy this pitch. The climb is fun with a combination of hand jamming and fingerlocks. The pitch is rated 10c, but, if so, it is by far the easiest 10c in the Valley. I like that in a rating. I then TRed the second pitch to remove the gear Judy had left. Hardly was uncharacteristically in belay mode today. Finally, Judy led Pine Line (5.7). Hardly and I both followed and we all toproped the face to the left (5.10) – all taking different variations up the wall.
That was it for the climbing. As we were packing up a team of two guys showed up to start up the Nose. They had a huge haul bag and were looking forward to their adventure. The Nose had a few parties on it and we watched a team climbing the Hollow Flake on the Salathé Wall. The Valley didn’t seem nearly as crowded as it did two years early when we fought for position on the Salathé. There was still so much more to do, as there always is at great climbing locations, but it was now time to head home. We drove back to San Jose and stayed with my friends Craig and Colleen Welch in their dome shaped house. The next morning we flew home to our families, as eager to see them as we had been to see the Valley.