Lurking Fear

       When we finished the Nose I was pretty drained and a bit scared of El Cap. We had joked on the way up that when we topped out we could sell our racks and quit climbing. . .  Well that's just ridiculous. Climbing El Cap once kinda feels like you got away with something. If we could climb it again we would prove to ourselves that we were justified in our ascent. Also, once you have climbed it, it's all you can think about. So the day before yesterday we decided to climb another route up this spectacular wall. We chose Lurking Fear and planned for one night on the wall; climbing and hauling faster than before.     

Jerome on lead..

     Your nerves are always on end before a big or difficult route, but you get better at managing it. Learning to separate imminent danger from irrational fear is a huge part of success on big walls, and climbing in general. Also, learning to compartmentalize fear and simply focus on the individual movement in front of you is necessary. Highlights of the route were on pitch 11 when I had to make delicate cam hook moves through a roof traverse with all that space below.. or watching Jerome bump #4 and 4.5 Camalots into an 80 foot runout on pitch 8. A huge moon greeted us on the ledge that night and we woke up feeling hungry for what lay ahead. Feeling stronger and more confident than before we cruised along for two days and one spectacular night and reached the rim right before nightfall. Blahhhhhhhh!!!! El Cap, Again.... I'm reeling with excitement.



                      

Racking Up

Just Getting Started

Mountain Physics on top

                             

The Nose

          For the past six years the Nose route up El Capitan has consumed my thoughts. Every rock climber has heard of this famous route and most, somewhere in their minds, dream of climbing it. However, big wall climbing is a unique discipline that signifies the "next level" in anybody's climbing career. As much mental strength is needed as physical and commiting to multiple days on the wall is, well... difficult. I spent all winter pouring over route descriptions and stories from this enormous cliff. Although this stood out as one of my life goals, how would I ever pull it all together? First step, move there. If you have never been to Yosemite valley its time to go. El Cap stands over 3,000 feet tall and is remarkably sheer to the ground. Photographs will never do this cliff justice. Rising 3,593 feet from the valley floor and 7,569 feet above sea level this thing is big. Imagine three empire state buildings stacked on top of each other and you might have a sense of this wall's sheerness. Jerome and I packed the haul bag in minor disbelief. We had climbed some shorter routes to train and we had set a date, it was time. In early June we spent three days and two nights on the wall discovering exactly what it takes to climb a wall like this. El Cap turned out to be unbelievably flawless, Intensely committing, and relentlessly terrifying. I am humbled.

Alcove Swing

All children are fascinated with the sensation of swinging. As kids we hang out on swing sets. As we grow a little older rope swings (usually into water) are the name of the game. When we loose our minds a little and dedicate huge chunks of our lives to climbing... well.. Yosemite has some of the biggest and scariest swings you can find. A valley favorite and always in motion is the Alcove Swing. Walk the base of El Cap Scramble 3rd class up a slab and you will find a rope that extends a few hundred feet to the top of the alcove. Im pretty sure the anchor is equalized Rurp's and a copper head so its bomber... ;) The more elusive and trickier to set up is the Porch Swing. All that I will tell you is that its located up near the top of El Cap. The general beta is to lower off a GriGri until the rope pulls through. However as you can see, simply Jumping off the ledge is also effective... but not recommended. Its important to notice the 3,000 feet of sheer exposure under the swing.

          Porch Swing

Shane Houbart and Corey celebrate their ascent of Muir Wall with the pent up desire for a big fall.

   Pics of the results of too much swinging to come shortly......

Coooooookie Cliff!

Dan Oppenheim/ Cookie Monster 5.12a

After a short climbing hiatus spent with the family on the east coast, I returned to the valley to find temperatures tipping into the 90's. When temperatures soar in Yosemite, there are two options. 1. Crack a cobra and float the river in some type of whole made duct tape contraption, or. 2. Seek out the hottest crag in the valley and sweat it out on the rocks. We chose the latter, and the result was a great afternoon of cheering each other on at this infamous crag. Cookie cliff is host to some of the most famous and difficult cracks in Yosemite. Classics; established by climbing ledgends such as Henry Barber (Hot Henry), Jim Bridwell (The Bird), Royal Robbins and Kurt Smith. Highlights of the day were watching Alfredo grunt like a gorilla as he suffered to earn a redpoint on Outer Limits. Or valley local and big wall vet Dan Oppenheim working out the delicate and steep moves of Cookie Monster. Thanks to Jerome Smart for hanging on the line to snap these killer shots.
Alfredo/ Outer Limits 5.10b
Matt Tosi/ Outer Limits 5.10b

Back to the creek

Spring in Indian Creek is like the fall; spectacular. Remote and with a feeling of freedom not left in many climbing areas, Indian creek is characterized by rugged beauty, windgate sandstone, and a multitude of cracks so perfect and bare its as if god himself intended for them to be climbed. Thanks to Ray Jardine we can. Sandstone buttresses sprawl in every direction and beyond that lies the endless myriad of the canyon lands. The north and south six shooters are landmarks in this area and on my second day in the creek my climbing partner decides we should climb the north six shooter. Jerome is always stoked to climb and has a composure about him on lead that i'm constantly jealous of. The north six shooter is one of the most magnificent formations in this part of the desert. It stands alone and rests elegantly along the skyline. Therefore we have to climb this thing. The next day Jerome, Sarah and I set out in my truck and rally along the rugged cattle road that snakes the base. Lightning Bolt cracks is the cleanest and most classic choice for climbing the north six shooter. Jerome racks up and digs into the thin fingers start of the first pitch, cruising up in no time to a chossy anchor. Again, Jerome takes the second pitch to the base of the alcove and hands over the rack. Time to see if I can still climb. S**it. Ok, so i am honestly a little bit nervous here. I haven't led anything out of the gym since my accident. Jerome turns to me and slyly asks me if I want the number one or the number two. I bid for the two and he pops it out of the belay that were sitting on and tells me to send it. That people, is what I'm talking about! I pull the lip and am psyched that I chose the #2. It goes in perfectly through this powerful move. The three of us enjoy a beautiful summit and I am renewed with a new confidence that I have not felt in a while. We climb for a few more days at the creek and then, its back to the plan that had cheated me a year earlier. Yosemite Valley

Light The Wick

On a snowier note. It looks like the boys at TGR have done it again. Get stoked for the snow, because skiing is just around the corner. Experimenting with 3D filming and apparently pushing it harder than ever, light the wick looks awesome... Can't wait for the premier.

That Night

I come to and John is leaning over me. He tells me that he has called the ambulance and its on its way. He looks seriously concerned and I start to discover why. The blue collared shirt that I am wearing is now stained with large crimson blotches. As a matter of fact the sidewalk beneath me is splattered in blood as well. Instantly I notice a sharp pain radiating from my toes to my knee. I use my shirt to press against my face and slow the bleeding. John helps me to the edge of the sidewalk and I close my eyes. Encouraged by the sound of approaching sirens, I slip back out of consciousness. Later that week John and I would run through the events of the evening trying to piece back together what had occurred. The enormous bump on Johns head would make it difficult to remember exactly what had happened. I had a badly broken ankle, a broken nose, and after the hospital called me back in twice for more testing, they determined that I had in fact not broken my neck. Sweet! We arrived on the conclusion that on the walk home we had been jumped by about six or seven guys. Completely outnumbered we were both pretty battered. The worst of my injury's was obviously my leg. He said it could have been weakened by a winter full of landings on skis. landings on free heel skis are usually backseat anyways so it probably hadn't helped. None the less, they got away and I was left facing surgery. Indeed I am the proud host to a metal plate and nine steel screws. At first I had a pretty positive outlook on the whole thing. I mean how bad could It be? Slap some screws in my leg stitch it up, do a couple months worth of pull ups and karma will take care of the guys who jumped us. Well after being on a roll for so long, I can assure you that the 4 months of immobility and the 3 months of babying my leg after that became torture. I would sit and dream of climbing, of those sunny days at Indian Creek. Could my new ankle stand the discomfort of crack climbing? Would I be able to boost cliffs into powder? I would have to tell my boss in Alaska that I would not be able to guide another season! Everything I loved was suddenly suspended in front of me and the longer it sat there, the more I wanted it back. So became my routine of crutching out to my parents garage and doing pull ups, push ups, and sit ups till my ankle screamed. The second I got my heart rate up all the blood in my body felt as though it would run directly to my leg. I knew that the pain meant fresh blood to the break and this would speed healing. So be it, More pull ups. I started that winter off in Jackson Hole and I had to get my Scarpa T-races molded twice as the swelling decreased over the course of the season. At first my leg, about half it's normal size had no hope of making a tele turn. Let alone on my 130's! so I started that season riding groomers and re-learning how to ski. Good thing there was no snow! Anyway enough of that, What doesn't kill you just makes you want to send it harder ;) So here we are all caught up to May 2010. Its been a year since I broke my leg and I'm once again packing the truck for Indian Creek. Lets finish what we started right? I just hope I can still climb. Training all winter in the gym where I worked I felt physically strong. But climbing plastic in the gym and climbing trad in Indian Creek are about as similar as ping pong and rugby...

Ancient Art


John


Supercrack aka. Luxury Liner

A bit of re-wind to last year.

After a quick break from the valley I have decided to start a blog. It will take a bit of back tracking to fill you in on the last few months as they have been jam packed with climbing and stories from Yosemite. This is my first shot at blogging so bear with me as I work it all out...

I had just left an epic 08-09 ski season in Utah that had yielded nearly 800" I had spent the winter pushing my free heel skiing and now It was time to climb. I set out on my first real climbing road trip with my good friend John.
The Plan: to climb at one area until we are too weak and then move on to the next.
The Duration: Till the money runs out.
The Budget: About 2,000 bucks between both of us.
We are on the open road for the first time in six months. The windows are down and the dry desert air whips through a bad hair cut John has given me with a pair of child scissors. We spent the winter packed the three of us, Scott John and I, in a tiny tiny room in the basement of the hotel where we worked. Three dudes in a 10x12 room on the basement level. "Man Camp". We both have an overwhelming sense of freedom running through us as we descend Little Cottonwood Canyon into the endless sprawl of Salt Lake City. We have just left our jobs as ski bums and we are headed to a place that has grabbed my attention as long as I have been climbing. Indian Creek. I am re-assured by the steel whine of Jerry's guitar peeling through the speakers of John's Toyota Pickup. As we drive down into the warmth of the city, I am glued to the inside cover of the current Black Diamond catalog. It is that famous picture of Earl Wiggins leading Super Crack, Aka (luxury Liner). I can picture it now from memory, buried up to his elbow in that perfect splitter while whipping out the next hex placement from his swami belt. I am tentative and full of excitement by the thought of leading this historic climb. I have never climbed cracks like this, Where am I going to find a rack of gold Camalots! After two or three weeks at Indian Creek, Even your grandmother can lead 5.10. Question: who needs a rack of gold Camalots? Your not going to fall out of perfect hands. Just bring two and walk them ;). Its time to move on. Physically drained.. our hands are wounded our muscles weak and our skin is stained red from desert sand. Laughing out loud and blasting country music we speed over countless cattle guards. We feel on top of the world. I had never experienced that sensation one gets when leaving the creek. Utterly drained, sunburnt and dirty, yet feeling like Arnold in pumping iron. "The greatest feeling you can get...The Pump". Feeling strong as Arnold and lead minded we could only head one place. Yosemite Valley California. After a quick stop at red rocks and a less than memorable spin through Vegas. We are headed for the big stone. We would stop off in San Francisco clog my sisters shower with red sand, grab a few beers and head up to Yosemite. Right... Wrong. These two days in San Francisco would be a major turning point in my life and teach me exactly what it means to be taken off your high horse.