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Mike

climber

Orange County CA

Topic Author's Original Post - May 29, 2003 - 05:37pm PT

The ominous nature of mighty El Capitan has a way of filtering out all but the most driven and committed of climbing teams. And where do all these second-stringers wind up? Why, on Washington Column, of course.

At less than half the vertical height of El Cap and with easy retreat from many of its popular lines, the Column is the wall of choice for those on a time budget, those in apprenticeship for the Big Stone, and those purely gripped by fear.

I had two weeks of provisions piled up at the toe of El Cap when the poor weather predictions materialized. In true California style, I had no intention of launching up Magic Mushroom in anything less than fair weather, and I tried to will away the impending precipitation by refusing to set up any rain protection at my cliff-base encampment. The final realization that I was lying in two inches of rainwater put to rest my power of positive thinking. I spread out my portaledge rainfly over my soggy nest and took the fetal curl. The next three days would be spent de-humping loads, drying out, floundering and monitoring the unsettled weather for whatever Plan B was.

The thrust of Plan B was to summit an aid line solo and beat it back home for some billable hourage. Enter Washington Column.

As with El Cap, I’m running low on the easy route offerings, so needed to look more intently at the less easy routes (conveniently, where less human traffic would be found). The Re-Animator, Ten Days After, Electric Ladyland all looked like great possibilities, so I began ferrying loads with those routes in mind. My first load up put me in touch with legions of the time-constrained, the green and the afraid, among them some guys "going for Ten Days After." They pressed me on what route I intended, but I held my non-committal stance of "whatever’s left over," knowing the murmuring of any route name would surely hex it with a clog of traffic.

Back at the Mountain Room, the overpriced draft beer has a way of both dampening aggressive spirit and, at higher blood/alcohol concentration, bolstering bravado. I was not yet at the latter stage when I casually tossed out the idea of teaming up with Cecilia for the Re-Animator. She was introduced to me days earlier by my friend Kevlar, who vouched for her prowess on the aid leads (and assured me that I was the one that needed to make the grade). Friendly, funny and articulate, I thought I had seen her in a magazine photo or had met her previously in some debilitating haze. Whatever it was, I felt comfortable enough to offer her the rope.

Thankfully, she had the good sense to decline my offer of heroism and gourmet food and drink on the Column. That most of her gear was cached in preparation for a sporty El Cap ascent was a great out, so there was no need to confront the issue of heading up a grade six with some strange man whose climbing tendencies were unknown. She knew I’d have far more fun going solo as I’d originally intended, and I knew it too. It’s that draft beer, I tell you.

The would-be Ten Days After ascent team was nowhere to be found at the Column, so while parties continued pouring in to queue up for trade routes like the South Face and the Prow, this beautiful line lay unmolested. I’d heard from a couple of friends the route was moderate and fun -- and now it was available. The only possible snafu might be the 500’ of climbing that this route shares with the Prow below the formation summit. Days away for me, I put traffic jams at the back of my mind.

The first two original pitches of Ten Days After are easily bypassed by via the Prow, from where one can swing right to belay two of TDA. But having done the Prow and wishing to avoid traffic, I opted for the broken, grassy original pitches. Grass hummocks, dirt and assorted debris rained down as I gardened my way up. In no sense classic, I still recommend these pitches because 1) big walls are bound to mandate this kind of groveling sooner or later -- best to be prepared by having done it, and 2) the clean dihedral pitches above become all the sweeter by contrast. And, again, Prow traffic can be avoided this way.

The primary dihedral system followed for most of TDA puts its ascentionist in a position of relative isolation. Imagine the route following the left margin of a deep vertical notch. To the left of the notch, out of view, lie the Prow and further left, the South Face. The seldom-traveled Electric Ladyland lies within the notch to the right, and Astroman cuts in and out of view on the right skyline. It was now beginning to feel like soloing…

The climbing on TDA is wonderful -- predominantly solid placements throughout, with an occasional rivet where features intermittently disappear. Few pitches contain such continuous, clean 3/4" crack as the final dihedral pitch, and one might be surprised at the overall steepness of the dihedral, given the overall slabby nature of the Column.

The "crux" short, traversing pitch out of the notch puts one back within 50’ of the Prow again, with full view of its goings on. The remaining two pitches before TDA joins the Prow are very different in character from the rest of the route; thin, discontinuous features (some expanding) are linked by sections of rivets and fixed copperheads. The hole count here doesn’t detract much from the route’s overall quality, as there is plenty of gear climbing interspersed. It was clear at this point that my "solo" was nearly over -- less evident was the character study that would ensue.

Jason and Rob from Bend, Oregon led the charge up the Prow, with a seemingly endless string of parties in pursuit. Portaledges, haulbags, ropes and high point caches littered the entire Prow from the Bend Boys to the ground. I sat in my portaledge in the evening, sipping tequila as the entire Prow ground to a halt exactly even with my height on the wall.

The Benders were a sheer delight to be near; their obvious joy of being vertical was completely infectious -- to the point of hurtling me back to my younger years as a freshly stoked wall rat. Jason, the more experienced, and Rob, the wall virgin seemed a case study on enjoying wall climbing -- their spontaneous, honest laughter, appreciation of their temporary, precarious position on the wall, and their evident savoring of every move of climbing earmarked my new neighbors’ shining attitude. I felt lucky to reap the positive fallout these young dudes were depositing about the wall, and welcomed my brethren as they hit the anchors a mere 40’ to my left. The Benders fired up the Bob Marley on their ramshackle boombox while we traded bios and small talk. Eventually it came out that the boys were short on water, so I lowered out a CARE package and began swinging. Two liters of Gatorade, some Tres Generaciones tequila and a few other comfort morsels -- all in a stuff sack -- began to pendulum ever higher through the dark autumn air, guffaws and giggles. "Got it!" broke way to the champion of all belly laughs as they uncorked the goodies and returned profuse thanks with the lightened stuff sack.

A team of three climbers followed closely (a single pitch) behind the Benders. I tried with marked failure to get these Chicagoans into the Zone with us, but something seemed strained among them -- they didn’t willingly revel in our adolescent banter and primal behavior. No problem though, not everyone on the wall wants to rave like a junior high schooler with a haul pass.

Being an older dog gives one some widened perspective on life and its subjects. And after an extended stint of rock jockin’, one can formulate a sort of "character scale" for climbers and, likewise, one becomes adept at information queues that indicate where on the "scale" a climber lies. Equipment (and it’s state of "newness"), technique, apparent confidence or fear, and the general verbiage among a team supply major data for climber profiling -- the Chicago guys were beginning to say more than their conservatism belied.

The next day, the Benders and I agreed there was no "race" for pole position on the final Prow pitches above us, and that the best actions were whatever made the most pleasant ascent for all on the wall. I could’ve expected such an amicable stance from the Bendites; I didn’t know what to expect from the Chicagoans, but I would find out.

I knocked out the two remaining pitches of TDA in good enough time to intersect with the Prow well ahead of the Bend Boys. After another pitch I gained the only major ledge system, Tapir Terrace, thankfully ahead of the fray that barreled up the Prow behind me. I was first at the traffic signal awaiting the green light of dawn to complete the final section of stone to the summit. I set my portaledge with room for the Benders to move in on Tapir. C’mon up, dudes!

As they neared my stance, it became obvious that the Chi-guys were having the Benders fix ropes for them. Wha? After driving 40 hours to get here, they were hitchhiking their way up an easy, classic Yosemite wall climb! And doing so, apparently, as routine -- without the misgiving, embarrassment or shame that would claw deeply within any climber of conscience. Upon my further inquiry, it came to light that this would be the third pitch (of eight total to this point) that the Chi-lites would cheat their way up.

I don’t care to regulate what, how, where and when people climb. Climbing is about freedom, and all climbers are free to define their own version of it. But when a climber’s actions affect those around him, he makes it the concern of others. Now I understood why these Chi-guys were up until after midnight every night, yet stalled out until noon the following day awaiting traffic dispersal. Their actions were causing a needless snarl while they chickened out on the classic leads the Benders fixed for them. All without a shred of humility in sight.

As the hitchhikers prepared to "climb" to our stance, the gravity of the situation pounded the words from my lungs "Why are you guys jugging pitches -- don’t you like rock climbing?" Silence, then the weak reply, "Well…we’re kinda spent, and wanted to get to a good ledge to be comfortable on…" "Hey guys, if you can’t be comfortable with a double and a single portaledge with all your provisions up here, you just can’t be comfortable. You guys are gonna get back to Chicago and ask yourselves ‘What the f*#k did we do up there?’ You’re really blowing it by missing these classic pitches -- plus you’re perpetuating the cluster f*#k and making it a drag for everyone else." Major silence, followed by hushed discussion below. Eventually, one of them led the pitch by headlamp and slid back down the rope to set camp.

Through conversation with the Benders, I learned that "Parasite" Pete was the de facto leader of the misguided folly and the mastermind of the piggybacking m.o., and that his partners were too intimidated to refute his direction. The Benders, bless their hearts, would do nearly anything for anyone up there, and their helpful nature was being fully exploited by Team Parasite. The two teams had a perfect dependent/co-dependent cycle in full progress.

I lay there fading under the canopy of night, wondering if I was some righteous, loudmouth beating his gums, and whether what I shouted to the Chicagoans was appropriate or helpful in any way. I couldn’t get past the feeling that these guys would actually thank my name back in Illinois; that they would appreciate the ethical capsule I’d laid on them. I wondered if my actions were hypocritical in that I wanted others to act as I thought they should. I pacified my calculations thinking about the hundreds of feet of granite sweeping to the valley floor, the now-vacant pitches below our cluster, and the social ramifications of living vertically.

We were all within shot of the summit now, so the questionable tactics of the Chi-guys had little consequence. I moved as quickly and safely as possible to allow all immediate parties the chance to summit without another late night or wall bivouac. After the last fifth class pitch, I shuttled my gear to the unroping point on the summit, organized gear and plopped down on my foam pad for some canned frijoles. Done climbing!

I saw an unknown figure groping around the summit blocks in the failing light. Unsure who it was, I offered generic congratulations. It turned out to be Tim from the Chicago team -- the person who had the least to say during our "negotiations." Now, away from the tyranny of Parasite Pete, Tim sat down a short distance away and we began talking. This was his first big wall climb, he explained, so I understood that he was obligated to comply with the wishes of the team "leader." "I’m really glad you said something down there," he professed, "it was really getting weird…I don’t think Ken (Chi-guy #2) would stand up to Pete. I was wondering why we were staying up until all hours every night when we had all our stuff." Some distant yelling shattered our contemplative exchange as Tim stirred. "I better get back down there," Tim resigned and slipped back into the night toward the distant barking.

Watching the remaining troops top out proved entertaining. I an uncharacteristic lapse, Bender Jason, next on top, went nearly psychotic during his final haul. With every wrenching stroke of the heinous low-angle grind, Jason would emit this maniacal, agonizing scream as though he were becoming the Wolfman himself. I only found out later it was Jason, as his vocal timbre was altered by his brief psychosis. Once his partner and gear were up top, we laughed and laughed about his diversion -- in true Bender style -- as we sipped a King Cobra malt liquor found abandoned on the summit.

As the Benders and I inventoried our remaining food and party supplies, another figure hobbled over the summit. More generic congratulations ensued. "Grab a pull off that King Cobra" we offered in reward. "Well I WOULD like a drink of water," came the reply. The Bend Boys and I just looked at each other.

Shouts up and down about where the pulley was blasted our quiet vigil, and produced no definitive outcome. "Anybody have an extra pulley?" came the inevitable request. The Benders and I just looked at each other again, smiling, a few seconds before Jason fished out his pulley for the helpless Parasite. It was an absolute joke by then. After more struggling and shouting came the additional request "You guys have another pulley?" I was paralyzed. I suppressed my human nature, doing my part to wean the Parasite from those around him -- for the good of all. Jason fished out his spare pulley. A few nips later, my confounded senses received another request "Can one of you guys come up here and help me?"

My vision of getting up, walking the few paces to the summit hauling area, unclipping Pete from the anchor and throwing him off the mountain was both frighteningly realistic and morbidly fascinating. But the friendly burn of warm alcohol melting through my torso faded the vivid scenario as I remained laminated to my Ensolite pad. Staring, penetrating the infinite black of space above, a huge grin swept across my scruffy mouth. The character scale was due for re-calibration.

Postcript:

Bailing off Cathedral Peak last summer in the rain, my wife and I teamed up with another couple for the raps (they had only one rope too). The guy in the other party turned out to be Bender Rob, who pegged me before I could place him. I told him to have his buddy get in touch with me so I could return the knee brace he left on the descent. No word yet from Jason, and the knee brace is nearly spent.

Pete turned out to be a San Franciscan who roped up with the Chicago boys. I ran into him at the base of EC after an April snowstorm a couple years ago. He didn't seem to object to being called "Parasite Pete" in mixed company. "Those your fixed ropes?" he asked me. "Yea" I replied, thinking "And stay the hell off em!". He ambled off with his dog to do...whatever he was doing up there.

Lambone

Ice climber

Seattle

May 29, 2003 - 05:52pm PT

awsome mike! hey do you get lots of shade over in those dihedrals? thinking about soloing this one mid-july...

Ben Rumsen

Mountain climber

Sacramento, CA

May 29, 2003 - 06:21pm PT

that is a great story - thanks!

Mike

climber

Orange County CA

Topic Author's Reply - May 29, 2003 - 06:23pm PT

Yo LB, It was great for mid to late day shade down low (after p2). The hump and descent will be your crux for sure. Great hauling from above p1 to the Prow gulley exit. P6 was slightly anticlimactic. Pitches 7 & 8 are sweet - bring a couple thin pins (Beak, RURP) and a couple of heads.

Maybe see you up there? We're on late schedule this year too...

malabarista

Trad climber

San Francisco, Ca

Topic Author's Reply - May 29, 2003 - 08:21pm PT

Interesting reading, as I am contemplating doing my first wall soon. Hopefully I can avoid the the antics of the parasites...

Lambone

Ice climber

Seattle

May 29, 2003 - 09:56pm PT

I could be wrong, but I think the overall moral Mike's story is that a good wall attitude is the crucial key to success...even if success means bailing safely, or just having fun when things arn't going your way...

That and if you couldn't climb the route by yourself, don't climb it at all...or something.

Mike's party was with us on the LT, just ahead on a crisp March weekend...it was my partners first wall and he was dealing with the usual first wall issues...you know fighting the voices in his head and figuring out the sh#t bag system. Nothing I could say or do would lighten him up, it wasn't until he saw Mikes crew havin' a literal PARTY on Awhanee (the details of which I won't mention), that he started to realize that wall climbing could actually be fun, and he could actually loosen up for a little while.

Mike's crew ran into his own minor epic later on, but pulled through it like champs. Sometimes you gotta say the hell with a good attitude and blow off some steam!

trapeze artemis

climber

Surf City

May 30, 2003 - 11:40am PT

Finally Mike posts another story.....well worth the wait.
Please sir, may we have some more.

David

Trad climber

San Rafael, CA

May 30, 2003 - 02:20pm PT

Very nice but I'm still waiting for the PDF version with photos(Like the Muir TR). It's not like you want to work for $ is it? ;)

Mike

climber

Orange County CA

Topic Author's Reply - May 30, 2003 - 04:49pm PT

Money's overrated. You know, David...

Then again, so is fame and glory (so I've heard).

= ]

C-DUB

Trad climber

Laguna Beach Ca

May 30, 2003 - 08:35pm PT

Hey Mike, long time no see! This is your bro Jesus. Brilliant slice of valley culture, also loved the Muir Wall TR. Tell the wife I said hi, hope you both are doing well.

Jah Love, C-Dub

Mike

climber

Orange County CA

Topic Author's Reply - May 31, 2003 - 08:01pm PT

Hey, soos! Where ya been? Drag the crucifix over to CM for some divine levitation...the weasel and I will herald your coming. You hangin with Kady still? We see him every so often.

Wanna buy some wall gear? Haha...

M&M