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June 1989, we are standing next to the van, parked
along the Merced river looking at El Cap. Our gear
is strewn next to the van and the stench from my purple
rope is still overwhelming.
It’s hot, really hot and as Deb jumps into the river to
cool off, I am totally dejected by our failure on El
Cap. Shit! we weren’t even attempting one of the Real
climbs, we had just bailed out of the East Buttress
route, how pathetic is that?
In hindsight, and with the experience gained over the
years, I have now come to cherish our “East Buttress”
debacle. Our mistakes that day seem obvious and naďve.
Yet, the thrills we experienced in our “adventure” are
as crisp today as they were on that day. Rather than
pushing us away from climbing, the experience took me to
the very core of what climbing is: a continuous balance
between my ambitions and my fears.
I had been climbing for a year. I got hooked after
taking a 1week course and had worked myself up to being
able to lead 5.9 trad. In the last day of the course,
the instructors gave a slide show from their previous
year’s ascent of the Nose and Half Dome. I knew right
then that I had to climb in Yosemite the next summer.
Armed with the route book and too much beta from my
friends, I felt invincible as I prepared to leave for
Yosemite. Then a phone call, my partner had just
shattered his wrist in a gymnastics accident…
I am standing in line at camp 4, hoping for a campsite.
It’s drizzling and the magnitude of It All is starting
to sink in: the rocks are huge, the folks around me
appear to be way more experienced and I have no partner.
There is a group of 3 people in line in front of me. We
get to talking, one of her partners never made it, we
wind up linking up. This serendipitous meeting has led
to a 12 year friendship and climbing partnership with
Deb…
Over the next few days we climb After Six, some 5.9’s on
the Apron and Snake Dyke. Through all this, we have
talked about doing the East Buttress. The day before our
attempt we start getting nervous and decide to fix the
first two pitches to save time the next day (believe me,
it made perfect sense to us then). We spent that morning
climbing Reed Pinnacle direct in the afternoon we hike
to the base of the East Buttress and proceed to fix the
lines.
I lead the 5.9 chimney, my first Yosemite chimney no
less, and by the time I am stemmed out, run out and
contemplating the move into the off-with below the ledge
I am scared shitless. I try to cheat by yarding on my
pro but am so stuck in the OW that it ain’t working, in
hindsight, I realized that until that day, I had never
climbed an OW... So this is what climbing in El Cap is
like? Welcome to the big leagues kiddo. To this day, I
can’t remember how I made it onto the ledge.
I belay Deb and she proceeds to lead the 5.10 pitch that
everybody “cheats on” by pulling on the time tested
piton (beta from my homies). But being young and
idealistic, we choose to free it. The fact that neither
one of us was able to lead 5.10 didn’t seem like an
issue at that point. Three lead falls and 20 minutes
later she yards on the piton and disappears above me.
WT: Deb?
Deb: yes
WT: remember not to fix the rope on the tree at the top
of the pitch, my buds told me that there’s ants in it
Deb: OK
In the meantime, its gotten dark, “huh, didn’t bring a
headlamp”. Deb raps down with a headlamp on, and as she
prepares to rap down the second rope into the darkness,
I ask her what she used for anchoring to the second
rope,
Deb: The tree
WT: But I thought…
Deb: It was dark, had no pro left…
WT to self : Shut up! she has the only headlamp
As we rap down in the dark and find our way back through
the boulder field I have a sinking feeling in the pit of
my stomach.
Dawn finds us at the foot of the wall. Man, the climbing
pack is heavy! We are concerned enough about our
endeavor that we are carrying two racks. Since we have
fixed lines we have our set of Jumars and etriers.
“Wait, we need bring our approach shoes for the descent”
and “what if we get benighted? well bring extra clothes
and some food, just in case”…
The rest of the climb reads almost like a three stooges
episode:
Deb: The pack is too heavy to jug with…
WT: Don’t worry tie it in, I’ll haul it… shit! it’s
stuck in the chimney, don’t worry, I’ll rap down and
free it, and jug up again behind it…
Deb jugs up the second rope, I follow with the pack on
my back.
Deb: Oh My God, the ants are biting me, oh, ouch ,
ouch!!!
WT muttering to self : told you so
As I reach the top, Deb is fighting the ants, still tied
into her Jumars, standing on the ledge. They are
crawling down her neck, she’s hopping frantically
swatting with all her might. As I jug the final few
feet, the rope is black with ants coming at me, the
Jumars are literally dripping with ant juice. The formic
acid smell is unbelievable. To this day I look at that
rope with a suspicious eye, what are the long term
effects of bathing a rope in ant juice?
Finally clear of the ants, I set off to lead the 5.5. As
I turn the corner after the 20 foot traverse, the HUGE
face of El Cap comes into view together with some 200
feet of exposure under me. I am GRIPPED. Smooth holds,
no pro, only 5.5 right? Eventually and after posing for
a photo, I reach a pin, not sure its the right spot for
the belay… never mind…I start belaying Deb up.
The pack is too heavy and is pulling her sideways as she
sets up for the arete. Is she gripped too? After a few
attempts she finally yells that she can’t climb with the
pack, we’ll have to abort the climb… rather than being
pissed, I am relieved… I bring her up without it, we
take some pictures and we rap down once again… It is
well past noon by the time we reach the van.
It will be quite some time for me not to feel bitter
about my debacle on the Big Rock.
Only later did I recognize some simple facts that I then
either ignored or was to green to grasp:
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I had very little experience in
multi-pitch routes
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Our rack was clearly overkill
-
We carried enough stuff in case
we were benighted, virtually guaranteeing that we
would and fixing ropes should have been the first sign
that we were going about this all wrong
In summary we were way over our heads…
Can’t wait to have the chance to get back to El Cap and
try myself at this unfinished project. I’ve promised
myself to be more respectful of the endeavor, this time
though, I will not bring my Jumars, just in case the
ants are still there…
WT
P.S. I never
got to see the pictures, a couple weeks later, Deb lost
her camera while we were climbing the Becky route on
Liberty Bell…
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