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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Original Post - Jan 17, 2011 - 12:39pm PT
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Smoke Blanchard well deserves his own thread. Here is the Foreword I wrote for his book, Walking Up and Down in the World: Memories of a Mountain Rambler. It came out in 1985 and is out of print but worth tracking down. (OT, but my favorite source for used books is alibris.com -- supporting independent bookstores.)
Foreword to Smoke’s Book
Walking Up and Down in the World
Doug Robinson ©1985
The temptation is to lie. The question comes up innocently enough, but it always comes up. I could say that I make a living rewinding videotape, or starting out a window at the Rand Corporation, anything. Instead, I usually tell the truth: that I’m a professional climber. Guiding, writing, designing equipment, giving slide shows – anything to grubstake the next trip back over timberline. But it’s a good bet that my admission has let me in for explaining everything my new acquaintance suddenly wants to know about climbing, even if he had never thought about it before. The list of questions is predictable too, starting with “How does the rope get up there?”
Smoke Blanchard, one of the finest mountain guides I know, has been carrying the sharp end of the rope up there for half a century now. In this book he sets out to answer, once and for all, those inevitable questions. I suppose he’s hoping to buy time for himself and the rest of us to circulate a little, maybe find out what a hang-glider pilot on his way to an altitude record thinks as he eases his kite up into the jet lanes. In the process, Smoke has come perilously close to letting the cat out of the bag. I hurriedly turned to the chapter on “Guiding Secrets” to see which ones he was giving away. What I found, there and elsewhere, makes this, among its other virtues, the book to recommend to apprentice guides.
But guiding is only part of Smoke’s story. We first come upon him as a young climber escaping Portland and the Depression on the back of a motorcycle. He is bound for Mount Hood, which he will climb repeatedly: twice one day, in record time another, up by new routes, down on skis. Venturing afield, he rebounds from Yosemite to land in the Owens Valley, east of the Sierra Nevada, and stay. We share the maturing mountaineer’s inevitable challenging of the great northern ranges, with early climbs on Mt. McKinley and first ascents in the Yukon. But just when one would expect a climber’s reminiscences to begin snuggling into hearth and home hills, we instead find Smoke walking the Pacific shoreline of two states, or across California, or bicycling in the footsteps of the Buddha, or wandering the mountains of Nepal, Japan, or China with the correct local dialect on the tip of his tongue. He’s hardly ever home anymore.
I met Smoke the same summer I began to guide, in 1966. We were introduced by Sheridan Anderson, the alpine cartoonist and timberline bon vivant, who took me by Smoke’s house in the high desert town of Bishop, at the foot of the eastern wall of the Sierra. Smoke was not a professional guide then – not full-time, anyway. He was a truck driver by trade, hauling propane all winter to keep his summers free for mountains. But he was the only Buddhist truck driver I had ever met who memorized poetry to recite to himself on the road. I think he liked driving trucks partly because it was the perfect cover (smokescreen?) for a climber.
Smoke learned early the art of downplaying mountaineering, and he got so good at it that sometimes he even fooled his family. When I met him, the tale of a conversation with his son Bob was already an old story. It seems he was returning from a Sunday excursion back when Bob was young and Smoke still smoked (no, that’s not where his name came from…)
“Where have you been?” Bob asked.
“Up the Little Pinnacle,” replied Smoke.
“Oh yeah – smoking pipes and reading books,” Bob figured, easily imagining a little pinnacle to be at the limit of his father’s ambition.
Actually, Smoke’s “Little Pinnacle” is a looming hulk of granite well over a thousand feet high, little only by comparison to the enormity of the Wheeler Crest rising 7000 feet behind it. Climbing it is no small feat either. Most people would want a rope, at least, to get up it. Smoke soloes, unroped, and the name he has chosen for this formation perfectly reflects his sense of humor. He has routes like that tucked up every canyon above Bishop.
Smoke always returns to his favorite spot – the Buttermilk rocks just outside of town – so it wasn’t long before I found myself lacing on shoes at the foot of a maze of rocks that would do credit to a head-em-off-at-the-pass Western movie set. Smoke’s Rock Course is the key to this maze, a subtle line that winds through subterranean passageways en route to a dozen summits. Fresh from years of training in Yosemite, I followed. Soon, however, I found myself high-stepping moves and panting hard just to keep up. The full course took all day, with no time spared to learn the route; in fact, Smoke is still the only person who can lead the whole thing. This conqueror of little pinnacles, though disguised in trucker’s clothes and veiled by Buddhist self-effacement, was no mean rock climber.
So you have to read between the lines a bit in these pages. Smoke has perfected an “aw, shucks” style that is the absolute antithesis of Victorian climbing prose, where every casual scramble takes on heroic proportions. The well-turned phrases here bespeak a lot of work, yet Smoke put this book together in a hurry, between trips to the Orient. As I read, some of the stories began to have a familiar ring, and I realized that I’ve been hearing him polish them around campfires and across the kitchen table ever since we met. Now they can be shared by all.
On the other hand, when Smoke speaks of “mild mountaineering” he really means it as an invitation. Over the years he has introduced hundreds of people to climbing, more of them for love than money, even after he began buying groceries by guiding. In the early days he recruited friends, or eve strangers off the street – who probably thought at first that they were going for a “stroll.” Smoke’s approach is mild mountaineering in the sense that none of them ever got hurt, and most came home ecstatic at mastering new and difficult terrain.
And difficult it becomes. Though they may start out “just scrambling,” followers along the Buttermilk Rock Course soon find themselves thirty feet above the ground, wedged between the walls of a two-foot-wide chimney. The technique is completely foreign, the means of staying wedged while moving up a mystery. Yet, just above, the master is absently clinging to the stone and giving advice, seemingly as a reluctant aside to the story he is telling about the time Bob Thayer offered Smoke his Mercedes (but balked at the suggestion of throwing in his beautiful wife) as an inducement to get himself lowered from the summit of the outcrop they had just climbed. Smoke not only figured a way down from that first ascent, but named their climb the “Mercedes Boulder.”
Meanwhile, the follower, having become so caught up in the story that he forgot his fear and chimneyed right on up in imitation of the master, has arrived at the top of another pinnacle and the apex of his hours-old climbing career. Coming along behind, I can’t help but notice that the ascent is pretty difficult. But Smoke’s teaching technique is so smooth that he regularly gets unathletic beginners up difficult rock and into the ranks of budding mountaineers.
In developing this strategy, Smoke was among the first to show his fellow guides that students could be propelled straight onto difficult climbing and into an immediate sense of accomplishment and confidence. That sort of gentle sandbagging has become a cornerstone of my own rockclimbing instruction. When the American Mountain Guides Association was being formed recently, we couldn’t interest Smoke in being “grandfathered” in as a charter member until we pleaded that young guides deserve a chance to learn from his teaching methods.
It was at Smoke’s house that I had the privilege of meeting Norman Clyde, John Muir’s successor as Grand Old Man of the Sierra. Ensconced on the couch, surrounded by books and yarning at anyone who came within range, he seemed like any old man beginning to come apart at the seams – until you noticed the gleam of alpine light in his eyes. Smoke was the closest friend of Clyde’s final thirty years, and since Clyde wrote so sparingly, the portrait Smoke draws of him here is to be treasured.
I met Jules Eichorn at Smoke’s place too. Eichorn had been with Clyde on the first ascent of Mount Whitney’s east face, and it dawned on me that Smoke’s friendships spanned the entire history of roped climbing in the Sierra. His perspective, that of the bemused soloist who nonetheless appreciates hard climbing, is a unique vantage on California’s rise during that fifty years into the foremost venues of world mountaineering.
Because he is out there so often, Smoke runs into the modern climbers as well. He tells of meeting Galen Rowell one day at the foot of the Lemon Lichen Boulder in the Peabodies, a realm of the Buttermilk favored by the young and agile for its consistently hard climbing. Smoke was soon guiding Galen to an owl’s nest he knew of on a nearby cliffside. The resulting photos have been widely published. But I’ve often wondered how Smoke, who publicly eschews the cult of difficult climbing, happened to be wandering around the Peabodies that morning in his climbing boots.
Later, Smoke took Galen and me on a climb up on the Wheeler Crest, a 7000-foot hillside bristling with exposed granite buttresses, like the Little Pinnacle. We went to Wells Peak, which turned out to be fine white granite, its summit guarded by a sequence of airy ridge moves that were only climbable as if riding horseback.
Maybe it was going there first with Smoke – casually scrambling over breathtaking terrain without a break in the running commentary – that led us to underestimate the place. But when we went back up later, the smooth granite of the buttress turned us back after only 200 feet. Returning again with hardware and greater respect, we did eventually climb that thousand-foot tower flanking Wells Peak and named it the Smokestack in his honor. Purity of line and difficult climbing have made it a modern classic among the scores of technical routes now found along the Wheeler Crest, thanks to Smoke’s lead.
In 1979 I went on expedition to Nepal. I was crossing a bridge over the Dudh Khosi one day, filled with a sense of the remoteness, the esoteric adventure of it all, when I looked up to see Smoke coming down the trail. These days, you’re more likely to run into him in Asia than in the Sierra. Leading treks or poking around on his own, Smoke is at home in Nepal, China, Tibet, Bhutan, Sikkim, and Japan. Every year he’s gone longer; this year he’ll be home only three months. “Uphill or down, it’s all the same now,” he said one afternoon. It’s not surprising that the Sherpas have grown so fond of Gaga Esmoke, or that his friends there include Tenzing Norgay, who shared the first ascent of Mount Everest with Sir Edmund Hillary. Smoke says his favorite famous climber is Nawang Gombu, who has climbed Everest twice and narrowly missed a third ascent. Together they’ve been mild mountaineering in Bhutan and India, with what even Smoke calls “a very rough storm on one trip and a difficult rescue on another.”
I won’t be surprised if one day Smoke just quits coming home. I can see him fixing up an old stone hut in the Himalayan backcountry, one that the Sherpas consider too high for anything except summer herding. But Smoke would move right in, a blue-eyed Buddhist with odd cheekbones living high on a mountainside – but not a hermit. No, he’d want to be able to walk down the hill to joke with Tenzing, stop in to a tea house for a ration of local homebrew, and cruise the bazaar with an eye for the younger women.
How many can say that they have fully inhabited their fondest dreams? We’ll miss Smoke in the Sierra, in his absence valuing this book all the more.
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jstan
climber
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Jan 17, 2011 - 12:49pm PT
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I read Smoke's book. It was very enjoyable. About the same time I came onto a book titled Into a Desert Place. About a 3000 mile circumferential hike around the Baja Peninsula. Also very interesting. If the world were different I would think that also to be a great ocean kayak adventure. Just too adventurous as it is now.
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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Jan 17, 2011 - 12:55pm PT
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The only part of that book I've read is that intro that Doug posted. Read it at Em's before we went climbing some day last summer. Gotta read the rest.
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scuffy b
climber
Three feet higher
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Jan 17, 2011 - 01:03pm PT
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Smoke's writing about the rock course is really wonderful.
The human side of climbing. Not just the moves, not just the views.
Takes a couple gentle pokes at Doug, too.
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jstan
climber
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Jan 17, 2011 - 01:08pm PT
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What Tami asks, Tami receives.
Amazon books
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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - Jan 17, 2011 - 01:42pm PT
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Tami,
Glad you're intrigued. Smoke is worth it, and Jaybro's photo is a clue. Only a few months old, and that whole crew was out searching for Smoke's Rock Course. It had been nearly lost, but five days of searching over the last year with a cast of seasoned climbers that eventually totaled thirty, and I'm pleased to announce that all twelve of the pinnacles have now been re-located, in order.
It's a long story, and I have just finished a 6000-word rundown on that effort with a bunch more photos, and more Smoke stories, of course. It is being edited right now...
More tease, I know.
jstan,
You got the book, but I'll mention again a venue I like better, because it supports struggling independent and used booksellers. They need all the help they can get! They have pooled their resources, so now you can search the entire country with one click, and yes they will ship: alibris.com
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ß Î Ø T Ç H
Boulder climber
bouldering
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Jan 17, 2011 - 02:29pm PT
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In the summer of 1967 he walked across the state of California, from White Mountain Peak to the Pacific Ocean. The hike was to commemorate his thirty years in California and he called it "the best trip I ever made." I remember this chapter. Impressive cuz he climbed peaks all the way, not just hiking it.
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GnomicMaster
Mountain climber
Ventana Wilderness
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Jan 18, 2011 - 11:22pm PT
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I want to add to the discussions about Smoke and Old Norman, both who I knew briefly during my Bishop days of 1971/72.
Smoke intro'd me to the Buttermilk and to Old Norman, the latter who was on his last leg. Clyde told me about how he had rocked Starr's body in on Michael Minaret. It became a 20-year obsession for me to go find Starr's bones but I never managed to interest any of my climbing mates to join me.
In addition to these two characters I want to say there are two other old Yosemite/Sierra mountaineers/climbers I had the honor of knowing briefly: Fred Beckey and Bob "Monkey Man" Kamps, the latter who I used to boulder with at Stoney Point circa late-1960s.
And whatever became of Barry Bates, probably the best free climber in the Valley in the late-60s/early-70s?
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Mighty Hiker
climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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Jan 18, 2011 - 11:40pm PT
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A fascinating character, one of the quiet breed of mountain men. His 'proper' names were William Earl, and he lived from 1915 - 89, dying as a result of injuries from a car crash. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smoke_Blanchard (Nothing about the origin of his nickname, fittingly.)
His book, Walking Up and Down in the World, is available through Abe Books (www.abebooks.com).
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GnomicMaster
Mountain climber
Ventana Wilderness
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Jan 19, 2011 - 05:23pm PT
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I think I might have a clue how Smoke came by that moniker. How I met Smoke was through another old-timer Bishop guy name Bob "Cap" Caplinger, a fire captain for the CDF. "Cap" was my fire captain for the few months I did a gig with CDF in Bishop in '71/'72. Cap and Smoke were pals, which was an oddity because Cap was not a mountaineer and he was quite the Owens Valley redneck. Nice guy, but a real redneck. Smoke never struck me as a redneck. But when one lives in little incestuous out-back towns like Bishop one develops interesting alliances.
Perhaps Smoke got that nickname because maybe he fought wild fires at some point in his life and somebody tagged him with that name. Maybe Cap gave it to him?
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GnomicMaster
Mountain climber
Ventana Wilderness
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Jan 19, 2011 - 05:34pm PT
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Speaking of Sierra characters, anyone here ever know Emmitt Dahl, the miner who used to live in the Emigrant Wilderness Basin just below Bigelow Peak at the northern most boundary of YNP? There was a salty-dog crusty old-timer for you. Used to see him every few years when I'd be soloing peaks in that area. He'd always have me into his rustic cabin for coffee, bacon, eggs, toast. He was mining for tungsten and moly -- or so he says, but I suspect it was that there yeller stuff -- and he was always being harassed by Union-Carbide that wanted his claim.
The Sierra has known some of the most colorful characters. I think that the "Sierra Guru" (aka DR) is equally one of them, and maybe someday someone will be waxing nostalgic about him.
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
San Francisco, CA
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Jan 19, 2011 - 05:51pm PT
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Thanks Dougie! Great writing.
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GnomicMaster
Mountain climber
Ventana Wilderness
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Jan 19, 2011 - 07:30pm PT
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Thank you, Mighty Hiker, for referring me to the older posts about Barry Bates. The things I saw Bates do in the early-1970s were nothing short of phenomenal. Why Barry never got the publicity that so many of the other glory hounds garnered back in the day is probably testimony to Barry's low-key self-effacing character.
I saw Barry crank one-arm pull-ups and then snap a dyno mantle move from that one-arm pull-up. The shoulder and arm power he had innately could never be nurtured in the average human body. I know, I tried and tried and tried for years to develop such power and it was never to be because I was not designed by Mother Nature in that way. Barry was a fluke, and very fun to watch climb.
I recall the first time I "met" him was standing in line at the college bookstore. His face and Beatles-style mop-top black hair with those orangutan shoulders were bugging my memory. I knew I had seen him somewhere but I could not put it together. Finally I said "You look familiar. For some reason I put your face in Yosemite. Do you climb and what's your name." He said, "Yeah, I climb a little, and my name is Barry Bates." My mind went numb! He asked if I climbed, to which I embarrassingly replied in absolute humbled modesty, "Oh, not much, just a little bit." What I wanted to say was "Compared to you, no!!"
I hope his heart isn't too bad. What a bummer that a guy my age -- 62 -- who was such a phenomenal athlete has a bad heart now. Life ain't fair, huh?
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
San Francisco, CA
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Jan 19, 2011 - 08:04pm PT
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Gnomic, seeing that you care about BB, you should know he is doing well, now that his condition was understood and brought under control. It is not so much a "bad" heart as the sucker had such a low heart rate. He told me he was passing out occasionally when he stood up, for example. People with this sort of condition are not doing too badly. His attitude was excellent last time I saw him and his manner of interacting had changed too; much more outgoing.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Jan 22, 2011 - 09:19pm PT
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This classic Galen Rowell article appeared in the March 1973 issue of Summit. This was the first time that the Eastside scene came to my attention as a climber. Doug was out as point man for the clean climbing revolution and the Sierras were Area 51!
One of my all-time favorite covers for openers!
You Canmore lurkers, tell the Warden up the road that he's famous again and simply must join us!
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
San Francisco, CA
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Jan 22, 2011 - 09:43pm PT
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thanks a lot for this scan-up and post Stevie. Perfect addition for the discussion!
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Jan 23, 2011 - 01:13pm PT
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It was also the first time that I can recall reading anything about Smoke as a climber beyond his taking care of Norman Clyde.
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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Jan 23, 2011 - 01:39pm PT
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When is next rock course outing? I'm in SLC but headed west soon, could swing by tomorrow haha ... But I would!
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wildone
climber
Troy, MT
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Jan 23, 2011 - 01:40pm PT
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THIS is why I spend so much time lurking around here. Doug, one of my dreams, if we ever have the time, is to be shown "Buttermilking", smoke's course by you. I could die a happy climber after that.
And Summit! A little before my time, but damn, what a fine publication! You would be a rich man, if you had a tome of those things. Really.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Jan 23, 2011 - 02:30pm PT
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Prompts for hidden salvation is Doug's speciality! LOL
Go easy on the chalk folks to keep the exploration and adventure high for the next wave. Better yet leave the bag at home and leave no trace!
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Jan 29, 2011 - 05:08pm PT
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Kleen Bump!
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Tony Puppo
climber
Bishop
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Jan 30, 2011 - 11:02am PT
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I think some of you Buttermilkers might like one of these;
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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Jan 30, 2011 - 11:03am PT
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How cool is that?!
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Tony Puppo
climber
Bishop
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Jan 30, 2011 - 11:05am PT
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Jaybro,
I got one with your name on it, PM with your address.
Tony
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Jan 30, 2011 - 11:44am PT
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Tony- Very cool medallion and photo!
Who took the shot?
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BW
climber
Bishop, CA
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Jan 30, 2011 - 12:58pm PT
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Hey Tony,
Good to see you got those out in the open. Wow, they turned out great. And way better pic than the one I had.
Cheers, Bruce
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
San Francisco, CA
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Jan 30, 2011 - 01:02pm PT
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Actually, DR is out there yesterday and today. With his 15-year old daughter. They are photographing the Smoke course by airplane for his article he is doing. I think the weather even worked out for the shots, from what I could tell front the Bishop webcam.
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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Jan 30, 2011 - 01:04pm PT
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This just gets cooler all the time
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Tony Puppo
climber
Bishop
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Jan 30, 2011 - 02:53pm PT
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Steve, the image is from Jan Tiura who climbed with Smoke a fair bit back in the day. She said her husband was just out of frame. I had asked her specifically for a "Smoke up a chimney" photo as that's what seems to evoke Buttermilk scrambling so well.
Glad y'all like it.
Tony
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guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
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Jan 30, 2011 - 04:00pm PT
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Jan is a most interesting lady-cook at the Palisade School back then and the first female tugboat captain on the S.F.Bay. Still tugboating and passionate as ever with her photography. Check out her website for some fascinating photos:
http://www.phototiura.com/TUG/tugs.htm
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Jan 30, 2011 - 09:39pm PT
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Thanks Tony!
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Tony Puppo
climber
Bishop
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Jan 31, 2011 - 12:32am PT
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I had been hiking up there years before, but the early bouldering was my stepdaughter Hallie and Kick Ryan.
Edit,
Oops, make that Mick Ryan, although many would like to put a foot to his rear.
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Mighty Hiker
climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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Jan 31, 2011 - 12:54am PT
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This is a really interesting thread. I'd never heard of Smoke Blanchard before, or just slightly. He wasn't a "real" climber, in the modern sense of the word. He might be aghast at some of the things now done in the name of climbing and mountaineering. But he was clearly one of the great mountain men in the Sierra Nevada, and a lot of others ended up perched on his shoulders.
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BooDawg
Social climber
Polynesian Paradise
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Jan 31, 2011 - 11:59am PT
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Since Doug has given Smoke his own thread, I thought I'd post these two photos, taken the weekend of Doug's second wedding that I posted elsewhere:
The half-day that some of us spent following Smoke's lead as he guided us humbly, almost silently through a portion of The Course was one of the most enjoyable days of climbing that I can recall.
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Don Lauria
Trad climber
Bishop, CA
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Jan 31, 2011 - 01:21pm PT
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Mighty Hiker,
To say, "He wasn't a "real" climber, in the modern sense of the word" is to say none of us were.
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Mighty Hiker
climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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Jan 31, 2011 - 03:03pm PT
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Thanks, Don. My background was in traditional mountaineering, where more than a few weren't very comfortable with hardware and fancy gadgets, and all it stood for. To some, rock climbing wasn't really mountaineering. But I look at it from the perspective of what we all have in common, and the intertwined threads often going back a long time. For example, bouldering going back to at least Oscar Eckenstein, in the 1880s. "Mixed" climbing to the 1920s, or earlier. And so on.
We've had a few characters like Blanchard up here. They may not have had all the latest tricks and gadgets, but did have the essential fire and energy.
Hence my comment on perching on other's shoulders.
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Swifter
Social climber
Flagstaff, AZ
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So great to see this thread! (Thx for the tipoff, Jan and the great kickoff Doug!). I first met Smoke at Nort Benner's home, and in summer of 1965 Smoke and I went on our first “walk” together. His idea was to wade in the Pacific Ocean near Icy Bay and from there walk to a viewpoint from which we could see the ocean from on high. Those who have walked or strolled with him will recognize the “purity” of this proposed summer itinerary as well as his understated manner of describing various “exploits.” (“exploits?” Now THAT is word he would never use or tolerate in reference to himself!) Of course the viewpoint he had in mind was Mt. St. Elias. I’ll check his book to see if he talks about not completing this walk.
Gnomic: The manner in which he liked to describe the evolution of his name typically went something like this:
Companion: How’d you ever get the name, Smoke? It’s just a nickname isn’t it?
SB: Yes, you could call it that.
C: Well what’s your real name?
SB: Oh, you mean the handle I put on tax returns and such?
C: Yes, your real, legal name.
SB: Well, it’s sort of awkward, so people just shorten it to Smoke.
C: OK then, what IS your awkward legal name?
SB: It’s Blacksmoke. Now let’s get those packs on and walk up to the lunch spot...
In reality William Ellis Blanchard had legally changed his name to Blacksmoke. Why he did so was another yarn.
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Bill Bechtell
Mountain climber
Montara, CA
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I first met Smoke in 1968 on a Sierra Club trip to Alaska that he co-led with Jules Eichorn. We did an unscouted hike over Anderson Pass on the lower slopes of Mt. McKinley (it wasn't called Denali in those days). This was one of the trips described in his book.
If I remember correctly, Smoke told me that he got the nickname "Black Smoke" when his day job was driving truck on Hwy 395 between LA and Reno. Evidently when you drive a diesel truck in the wrong gear black smoke spews out the stacks. "Black Smoke" was eventually shortened to just plain Smoke.
I subsequently bouldered with Smoke in the Buttermilks, and hiked across Austria with him and his wife, Sue, in 1970.
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Fletcher
Trad climber
from the place of breath
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Usually, anything with even a smidgen of DR's writing is worth the cost of entry.... But this is the whole real deal. Just ordered the book myself... Looking forward to curling up with it.
Great thread!
Eric
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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Many thanks to "The Cobblers"!
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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 8, 2011 - 02:12am PT
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Bob Swift,
I believe your photo is Chuck Pratt following Smoke!
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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 8, 2011 - 02:21am PT
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Here's a little closer look at the medal of Smoke that the cobblers from The Rubber Room in Bishop had cast. Notice it's taken from Jan Tiura's photo on the card, but where on the Rock Course is that?
Smoke loved hat pins. In Bill Bechtell's photo from Austria, you can see his red "East Willow Alpine Club" pin on his hat.
Here's Smoke's quote inside that card from the cobblers; these words end the section on the Buttermilk
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Swifter
Social climber
Flagstaff, AZ
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Bil Bechtell: OK, that confirms my recollection of the name's origin. (Someone reportedly said that no one on the Eastside drove his rig faster or his VW bus slower than Smoke!) The driving yarns could fill another book. He'd given up pipe smoking by the time I met him. Apparently at one time he was driving a hazardous load (explosives) that required the driver to have a safety manual on the seat beside him; and Smoke's pipe had burned a hole in the cover. But the last straw came when crossing an RR trestle. He had climbed down into the support structure to yield right-of-way to a passing train. One hand was needed to maintain balance, and when he noticed he was trying to re-charge his pipe one-handed with the free hand, he decided that was enough and quit.
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
San Francisco, CA
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Dougie that can’t be Pratt. The guy has an upper body like Chuck but there just is too much hair, dude. This guy has loads of it and it's wiry--- definitely though a climber. I was thinking of Colliver or Mike Loughman.
Now Pilgrims, Doug brings up what he evasively calls “a medal” of Smoke when in fact it was a brooch, a haute couture brooch from BITD. There was also a musette AND some swagging that went with it, mostly lost as most of the musettes became in a confused sort of way, chalk bags--- all that leading of course to Russ’s whole enterprise and Tarpaper’s recent research as well. And the swagging--- actually sort of Mr T starter kits---- were usually pawned for granola and new shoes.
But that did not hold Dougie down. He went on to produce his own festive line of personally commerative medals--- Tarbaby helped. Here are the only two extant. Doug was under the impression that it was not illegal to make your own Nobel Prize medals.
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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 8, 2011 - 10:42am PT
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What? You never herd of a Nobel Prize awarded for Dirtbagging?
(Maybe it was just an Eastside thing...)
And, Dude, that's Chuck's wool hat! Covering his hair-challenged pate, don't you know, and of course out of respect for Smoke, who is setting a stiff sartorial standard for the Buttermilk. In scrambling to keep up, Chuck is already somewhat compromised in knickers while Smoke is up-to-the-minute in trucker pants.
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H
Mountain climber
there and back again
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Thanks for posting up for Smokey, Doug. Its a great read and makes you want to go exploring the east side for all the hidden camps that were spread out. Sure looks like Chuck to me.
I was introduced to the Buttermilks in 89. We were taking a break from climbing in the Gorge. Went there to warm up.
I'll have to pm Cobbler for the specifics on the medallion. Peter let me know when Doug's meddle of honorable dirtbagging gets made I like to be put on the list.
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
San Francisco, CA
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Crap, I caught live ones! Love it. Yes of course it is Chuck--- you can tell with the cute transitorized facial features in profile there--- he and Fredericks were so pleasantly gnomic.
Maybe, H, we should start a thread similar to that Hurricane Drill Holders thread or the Hammer Project thread where people could put in for a brooch and we get HighTraverse to grunt a batch out in his shop. They are goodlooking and have that certain finesse you see. Thinking also they are very well defended too.
Dingus, the Smoke book is easy to get. I just got one from Alibris. It was cheap, in perfect shape. In between your numerous hikes through unusual areas, you should bag one.
I often wonder what Dougie would have looked like, had he not met Smoke and met Pratt---- just dangled helplessly by himself in a fashion void. So I searched the Web Pilgrims and finally discovered the truth--- a shot of Doug before The Influence began. It must be around 1962. This was when corn was still grown in Los Altos:
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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 8, 2011 - 12:04pm PT
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Interesting. I never thought much about the link between Smoke and Bartholomew. Both of them chose that self-effacing style, the come-on that says "nothing to see here folks, just blending right into these lumpy little rocks." Orland Bartholomew was so good at it he practically disappeared until Gene Rose unearthed his unpublished journal (from his son), and managed to wring a book out of that and -- mostly, it seemed -- Bart's great self-portraits taken on the trail (no mean feat of early self-timer photography).
Smoke's writing is surfaced by understatement too, of course, but under that is such a rich texture of sly kidding, and a catch-me-if-you-can sort of commentary on the whole climbing world taking itself -- go figure! -- too seriously. Since starting this thread and writing a long piece (not yet even edited) about re-discovering Smoke's Rock Course with a lot of help from Jaybro and Em Holland among many others, I dove back into Smoke's book.
This time around I can scarcely believe how rich and wonderful is Smoke's commentary. It's like I missed a lot of who he was and what he had to say when I first encountered him and he was right in front of me. So busy in my way being a buff kid, a 20-something full of self-importance as a Valley Guy cruising the quaint provinces, that I actually bought into Smoke's modesty and took it at face value. He got me!
Going back into the text now, it means far more to me than when I was hearing the stories firsthand while chasing him down Buttermilk passageways, or even twenty years later while writing that Foreword and leafing through the as-yet-unpublished manuscript as I balanced my already-worn Olivetti portable on my knees in a Mill Valley back garden.
Just the section on the Buttermilk now seems full of portent. It's only 3 pages long, but lately I've about worn them out cris-crossing the little references for clues to follow out there on that bewilderment of stone that, like Smoke himself, by turns hides and reveals its passages.
Bob wondered upthread how Smoke revealed the ending of their St. Elias trip. He said he'd look it up, so I'll leave that to him. But I can't resist how Smoke described setting off when "it was my goal to walk from the sea to the top of the tallest coastal mountain on earth":
I had no intention of wetting my toes in the ocean, as Seton Carr did in 1886, or I. C. Russell in 1891. It seemed legitimate to use an airplane to avoid the risk of landfall from a small boat in the surf, as long as the airplane transported us no farther than the beach under the mountain
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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 8, 2011 - 12:36pm PT
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Since we're meddling with what Peter is wont to call "brooches" here, I guess I have had a perhaps-unconscious fascination, though developed later than my "cornfield phase."
The story unfolds when my brother, a Ranger in the Forest Service, was posted to Mammoth. He was assigned a trailer in the slightly low-rent sort of living compound that seems to trail off into the woods behind every one of their installations. Smokey in front, suspect living quarters to the rear, don't you know.
It was Halloween and as usual I was completely unprepared, lack of forethought being one of my more trustworthy attributes. But I was thirsty, you see, and hearing the siren call of the old Village Inn -- long since gone 'the way' -- just up the street. What to do? I couldn't just walk in unadorned.
That's when I espied my brother's Ranger badge on his dresser. Nicely cast in bronze, you see, with one of those little pins on the back to affix it to the chest like a -- how you say? -- brooch. A ready-made, federally-sponsored disguise for a long-haired dirtbag.
It passed impressively at the watering hole up the street, though in the end my brother, usually so fun-loving, pitched a fit. Something about impersonating a Federal...
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FeelioBabar
Trad climber
One drink ahead of my past.
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I have always wanted to do Smoke's Buttermilker "course", but have never been shown.
Can't wait for the write-Up!
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Mar 12, 2011 - 01:29pm PT
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Little Smoke Bump!
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Mar 26, 2011 - 02:46pm PT
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Where there's Smoke there's FUN...Bump!
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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May 14, 2011 - 03:10pm PT
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Adventure bump...
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rottingjohnny
Sport climber
mammoth lakes ca
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May 14, 2011 - 03:33pm PT
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DR...I remember you had a brother , in the early 80's , that worked for the green gestapo...I remember he was one of the higher ups....would that have been charlie..? That's when the FS had employees with gumption...Rj
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Klimmer
Mountain climber
San Diego
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May 14, 2011 - 03:43pm PT
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I have always wanted to do Smoke's Buttermilker "course", but have never been shown.
Can't wait for the write-Up!
DR,
Me too. When is the write-up expected and where will it be published? Thanks.
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east side underground
Trad climber
Hilton crk,ca
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May 14, 2011 - 04:18pm PT
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Hey Doug, Is it true that You and Smoke were at the Palisade school camp on a 4th of july when a certian group of murrys went ballistic with the fireworks at third lake? Heard a rumor but never knew if it was true.
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frog-e
Trad climber
Imperial Beach California
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May 15, 2011 - 12:40pm PT
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Wow this a really cool historical thread -
like to learn more about the "climbing
course", too.
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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - May 15, 2011 - 02:30pm PT
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Just this week I finished editing the article about Smoke and his Rock Course. I'm stoked! It's a good long piece, 5000 words, and goes into detail about remembering Smoke, his take on climbing, being on the Rock Course with him, and all the effort over the last couple of years to find the Rock Course again. Including help from Jaybro, Em Holland and many others.
It's going to be in Ascent, which is being revived after -- what? -- hasn't been one since the Nineties. It was pretty classy and well-produced back in the Sixties when Steck and Roper got it going. A lot like Alpinist is now. It's going to be really interesting to see how it looks this time around, edited by a good crew from Rock & Ice.
They have lots of photos to choose from, including classic black & whites of Smoke on the course by Jan Tiura and one by Boo Dawg, plus modern shots by Andy Selters of some of the days spent working on the rediscovey. I got treated to a Cessna ride over the Buttermilk, and my daughter Kyra took a nice aerial that shows where the course goes.
Well,sort of where it goes anyway. It has turned out to be harder than I thought to show that on paper. Which just means that we will have to crank up some more Buttermilking (as Smoke called it) parties this summer. Stay tuned.
Yeah, my brother Charlie worked for the Forest Service as a Rec Officer, first in Mammoth and then Lone Pine. He's down on the Los Padres now out of Ojai and about to retire so I can get him out skiing more.
I guess I missed the fireworks back in the Palisades. Must have been in Bishop...
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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May 15, 2011 - 02:46pm PT
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Doug- Are Roper or Steck involved in the revival of Ascent or is it a rebranding of sorts with their blessing? Care to give us a glimpse of the proposed contents?
Sign me up for a copy or two!
Cheers- Steve
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F10
Trad climber
e350 / Bishop
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May 15, 2011 - 02:53pm PT
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Ascent wow, was just looking at my 74' Ascent last night
Looking forward to your article
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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - May 15, 2011 - 02:56pm PT
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I would call it more a rebirth. I know the intent is to carry on its fine tradition. And yes, I've heard it's with blessings from the founders Steck and Roper.
Steck even showed up in the Buttermilk one day as we were preparing to go out on the Rock Course, and his daughter Sara and his grandson Michael (in skateboard shoes) came along as we worked out Smoke's classic moves like the Flying Squirrel (three tries for me to stick it) and the Rubber Tester on our way to the first pinnacle, the Porcupine.
No idea what else will be in the issue. I will be as surprised as anyone...
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BooDawg
Social climber
Butterfly Town
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May 16, 2011 - 03:27pm PT
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Doug: Do you have a projected date of availability for the up-coming Ascent?
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Jun 12, 2011 - 10:58am PT
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First available bump...
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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Just read the smoke / buttermilkimg article. Nice work Doug! Can't wait to get back there. I'm in he shadow of deto, currently. Thanks for the kind words too, btw!
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cintune
climber
Midvale School for the Gifted
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Great article. Was just talking about it with a friend who climbs 5.12 and boulders V9; "but after reading that I just want to go out for the adventure; that's what I've really missed out on so far."
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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Oct 11, 2011 - 01:29am PT
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This is an excerpt from Walking Up and Down in the World; Memoirs of a Mountain Rambler by Smoke Blanchard, Sierra Club Books ©1985 by Smoke Blanchard ISBN 0-87156-827-6
BUTTERMILKING
"Hey, Smoke, got time to go Buttermilking?"
He should know me better than that. I've always got time to go Buttermilking. That's our coined verb for climbing in the local rocks. Please don't call it practice climbing. This is the real thing, even if it's walking. (We sometimes go Buttermilking to study flowers or to meditate.) And it's not bouldering; that's another sport. For forty years Buttermilking has been as essential a part of my life as any other ingredient.
No one knows the origin of the name Buttermilk. We borrowed it from the USGS, who splashed it across a large swath of the Sierra slope on one of their maps. Climbing locals restrict its use to a particular parade of small peaks.
The rock course evolved over a long time. I first climbed the Big Slab Pinnacle by the vertical four-sided chimney at its back, the one I now call the Aboriginal Chimney, in 1942. For many years, I corkscrewed into the great rock maze from all directions. The twistings and turnings of the holes, hollows, chimneys, and prongs of this vast jumble curl so complexly that even today I am the only one who can follow the exact pattern of all the routes. Bobby has been with me on more scramblings there than anyone, but he has always climbed as follower and has not yet learned the course. People who have spent a couple of years of winter week ends there still lose the way.
Obviously this is a source of pride to me, because mountaineering is an extension of my love of geography and exploring. The Buttermilk, though, taught me an appreciation of the grace of rockclimbing. Surprisingly, it seems to be this new skill that has gained this clumsy guide his local fame. Most people don't realize how easy it is to look good on moves done hundreds of times.
For decades I've taken out almost every person who has come visiting here. One beauty of the Buttermilk is that we can get there, climb, and return in just one hour. Or take the whole day. To go through the whole course takes from six to eight hours. Few people have the stamina and hand skin to complete the course in any amount of time; fewer yet can do it in record time. Climbing for records is stupid, anyway. It means no leisurely discussions on a sun-loved ledge, no time for trying a pitch over and over to smooth a technique, no chance to watch an owl mother's flight lesson, ear for coyote music. (On Su's first arrival at the second highest summit, she asked, "Why do you call this one Coyote Singing Summit?" Believe it or not, on cue with that stage direction, an obliging chorus proved the name appropriate.) It is good when one or six show up with time and determination to make a deliberately slow tour through all twelve pinnacles on the course.
Better yet is a big picnic, which Su used to refer to as a "Buttermilk Bash." This means a general circus for all, sans program. A large but not atypical one gathered its population from Bishop locals, Allen Steck and colleagues from the Mountain Travel Company, and Yvon Chouinard and his crew from the Great Pacific Iron Works. The count was fifty-one, which may have included some dogs and most certainly included babes in arms. Maybe even George Miller's children's milk goats. That's okay. That is the special feature of Buttermilk ambience: the possibility of assembling in rock-inspired communion all categories of outdoor people, from the most sedentary of picnickers (nonambulatory, even) to the most acrobatic of overhanging boulderers.
Picnic Valley, twenty minutes by easy trail from the new sandpit parking lot just ten miles from 387 Willow Street, is as spectacular as any site in cragdom. It is not really a valley, just a picnic-wide sagebrush-and-boulder-strewn space between the frowning brow of the bold Big Owl Pinnacle, the overhanging wall of South Mount Klieforth, and the sheer cliffs of Big Slab Pinnacle. Here nonclimbers can laze in sight of friends who are clinging to walls and peaks on every side. The haul from the car is short enough that nonclimbing types can be persuaded to pack in the food and water and wine, so that climbers arriving over the Skin Diver, Henry's Hill, and other narrow, airy places can balance unburdened.
Because the usual course crosses twice through this valley, people committed to different routes can mix at lunch. Groups may use this recess to rearrange. Here are some granite gropers eager for chimney wrestling; here, kids bound for Mount Klieforth on a tight rope; there, upper-echelon athletes dangling from an overhang. When such madness was popular, two young guides streaked a mixed climbing party that was belaying its way up the Slab. Bobby topped the streakers by traversing the complicated route over the summit, down the rough backside chimney, and around by Patterson's Night Route and the Belly Tester Crevice fully clothed but barefooted!
Regarding climbing costumes, I tell visitors freshly arrived from the city, "'We used to say, 'Put on your old clothes, we're going to the Buttermilk.' But now we say, 'Wear your best suit. If your technique is correct, you won't hurt it!' " This latest advice recognizes the skills we acquired at keeping ourselves out from the rock and climbing using only feet and hands. Beginners tend to grovel in chimneys, which is detrimental to clothing. Buttermilk rock is rough, round, and relatively holdless. It requires different gymnastics than the high-mountain rocks and allows us habitués to look good.
It is hard to say who will look good on those shaggy round bulges or tight scratch cracks. I must hasten to add an important message: the Buttermilk Course has always been just for fun. We have but one rule: don't fall off. Confucius say: "He who fall from Buttermilk rock loses face (very scratchy granite)." The credit to be gained from completing the course or reaching the summit of any of the twelve major pinnacles? As Bodhidharma answered the Emperor Wu of Liang to his inquiry on the merit of religious works: "None whatever!"
Still, if part of the fun is perfecting one's grace and balance, then surely it is legitimate to observe and appreciate one's companions' efforts as well. The peculiar nature of that strange rock leads to many a surprise. Sometimes mountaineers of wide experience and great reputation come around and find the rock so unlike the clean-cut edges of the heights that they struggle embarrassingly. Among the hundreds of nonclimbers trying the rocks with me, there have been some surprises too.
A couple from one of my African trips showed up, and the woman was anxious to get back into rockclimbing. She had kletterschuhe and knew how to use them. Her man, though, wore shiny, brass-buckled, leather-soled fashion boots. Impossible footgear: the uppers would be ruined by gouging crystals, and the soles could skid a man to ruin. He was told to wait at the bottom of the Porcupine Pinnacle, but he got so excited watching us, he came anyway. He climbed perfectly safely and with consummate skill.
The "Ring-tailed Cat Man" was a guest lecturer at the Palisade School of Mountaineering. A shy, gangling, stringy, black-stubble-bearded , frizzy-headed speaker, who scuffed his toes in the dirt, stared at the ground, and mumbled inaudibly about high-altitude squirrel habitats, Derham Giulani is most comfortable with a high-camp audience held in the glow of his nocturnally bloodshot eyes. (He earned his nickname by staying up nights observing ring-tailed cats.) One climbing team of two clients, who hunkered by a small fire at Camp Robin Hood for a two-hour nature lesson, rated the encyclopedic animal lore, detailed with red-eyed intensity, the highlight of their entire week at the school. They were startled the next day (it's happened more than once) to catch sight of the loose-jointed cat man flapping by with his untied tennies and butterfly net right up through the course they were attacking roped, belayed, and protected. Yes, the Ring-tailed Cat Man also floats up knee-gouging Buttermilk cracks with perfect unconcern.
My old friend Bob Swift once showed up with a friend who looked over each pitch very carefully and then climbed with ballet beauty. From the top of the short chimney above Sharp's Scenic Stroll, I threw down a rope for the stranger's protection on that airy promenade. He tied on without a word and came up with his usual aplomb.
When Swift got a chance, he inquired critically, "My God, Smoke, do you know who you tossed the line to?"
"I didn't catch the last name," I lied. "Chuck somebody."
"That's Chuck Pratt, perhaps the third-best rockclimber in all the world!"
He's a gentleman. The famous Stroll is a little nerve-tingling, but I'm sure he crossed it roped only to be polite.
One who should have worn a rope a time or two was our most spectacular climber of all. Helmut Kiene, in selecting a highschool exchange program from his native Germany, chose Bishop. A few locals imagine that the fame of Bishop's climbing has filtered all the way to the Alps. While this harmless conceit may be unjustified, no doubt German maps are detailed enough to show the capital of eastern California snuggling up to the Sierra Nerrada. Whether this inspired his choice I don't know, but Helmut came here for his senior year of high school. Within minutes he was out on the rocks, where with his natural balance and grace, he fit perfectly into Buttermilking. Skinny enough to rise up the narrowest of chimneys as if by capillary action, he was tall enough to finger the most distant hold and strong enough to hoist himselfwith ease. Soon he scampered up problem pitches like Spider Man.
His unroped antics nearly did him in one day, though. It was the great day Susan Denton and Jay Jensen were married just below the cragged peaks, and with hundreds of their friends at the ceremony it was not difficult to recruit Buttermilkers. We were all fairly full of wedding champagne, but rucksacked in several magnums in case of need. We had just begun the regular descent of the Big Slab Pinnacle when the bubbly momentarily captured Helmut's toes-on-ledge brain cells and off he came. Even here at the safe stance of the typewriter table, it scares me to think about that flight over those cliffs. There is one small, round, boulder ledge between take-off point and pancaking bottom. Helmut landed there in perfect knee-sprung crouch, bowed to the crowd as if twenty-five-foot jumps were on his program, and sprang down into the vertical chimney out of sight below in perfect control.
For a quarter of a century I knew everyone I saw out there, and for half of that time the only human tracks in all those hills were mine or my chosen companions'. Even today most of the traffic aims for bouldering on Doug Robinson's Peabodies. He hung that name on them and hung up most of the routes while spending weeks exploring their problems. Over a score of Yosemite hotshots have been attracted by Doug's boulder broadcasting. It is not my thing. I put on Doug Robinson's special rockclimbing shoes once and aimed them for Grandpa, but they didn't take me up. Bobby uses mountain boots like mine and climbs routes on Grandma and Grandpa that no one can follow.
The huge boulder Doug named Grandpa is famous now--featured in a photograph illustrating a Robinson essay on clean climbing. Most people think bold Grandpa the biggest boulder around the Buttermilk area. It is second. Number one we hide by geography and benign neglect. We hid it because the only way up will require bolts, and so far we've kept bolts out of almost all our rocks. Locals laugh because the rope in the Grandpa clean-climbing photo runs through a bolt, but that's okay because all agree that Doug is certified pure, and the editor needed the picture.
If we've only an hour or the new visitors want to climb only one pinnacle, I usually head for the first peak of the course, the one we call the Porcupine. That way we can use the old parking place, below where the weekend cars park.
Just before reaching the base of Porcupine, I take my party across a few shaggy rocks and past the Christmas Card Boulder. This sorts out the group instantly. Xmas Boulder can be climbed. Super experts gluing the tip edges of their boots to footholds too narrow to balance a bean appreciate that we have a parallel course for them where they can practice such absurdities without being ostracized. The rest of us check our rubber soles, adjust to the smearing of boots on slopes, and relax our bodies for balancing. I then know who needs a rope on the first pitch and approximately how much rockclimbing instruction to give.
Lately I've been carrying a fourth-class rack, which works fine--just a few nuts for setting up anchors. I don't climb fifth class routes any more. I've been told that my solo routes in the Scheelite Cliffs rank 5.6. Never did understand those numbers. If I like it, I class it 4.9, and if I don't I'll call it 5.7 and stay the hell off it. In the heroic words of Norman Clyde: "This can be climbed but I'm not going to do it." Yes, the rack fits in a belly-band pack and has all the anchor, prusik, and descending gadgets I need.
The Porcupine Pinnacle gives us a chance to climb cracks, faces, ledges, and chimneys. Most likely I'll give a running commentary on all the different types of jam and cling holds we use. I'll demonstrate a jump we call the Flying Squirrel, teach manteling, show how to wedge , and give an example of the lieback. Probably there will be philosophy, deep or shallow; undoubtedly there will be gossip about famous climbers. I'll criticize Royal Robbins for claiming to have invented the elbow lock in the 1950s. I hope he meant that he had progressed far enough in his climbing experience and athletic agility to rediscover what my friend Gary Leech showed me in the 1930s, when he rediscovered what A. F. Mummery had probably used early in this century in his famous crack on the Grépon, and what no doubt was used before him by old Pithecanthropus J. Erectus when he deserted his tree to try a little rock-crack problem in pursuit of dinner.
There will be many anecdotes. A lot of them I tell to illustrate something about climbing in the Buttermilk. When we thrash in the chimneys, I point out that they come in all sizes, like people. The beanpoles gripe in Charcoal Chimney, the shortlegged have trouble reaching across the wide chimney under the Breakfast Porch. The Frog Wedge is supposed to require great arm strength, but Mary Sharp and Marlene Miller squirm out of it on coordination rather than biceps. I tell how the first two guys to straddle-leg the entire Bobcat's Passage were tall, skinny Tex Mock and a sawed-off Yvon Chouinard. I may offer the rope with a story about how Bob Swift and I assured a client at the climbing school that "you can't fall out of a chimney," and she did.
If all goes well, my chatter sparks my friends into talking too, and we jabber all the way. This uses up climbing time and leaves some unclimbed pinnacles to beckon them back.
If I charted every hold, mapped every move on the course, asterisked all the alternatives, compiled a large book with the most accurate evocations of the moods of that molded granite paradise, and managed accurately to portray by character sketches the people who sometimes inhabit the Buttermilk, I would still sell it short. There is no way that I know of to pass on by paper the feeling that permeates the person who steps out of the shower with epidermis cleaned and tingling from crystal scrapes, muscles pleasantly tired, joints well-oiled, and mind and spirit glowing from a full day of Buttermilking.
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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - Oct 11, 2011 - 01:55am PT
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Thanks for posting that Ed.
What a writer Smoke is!
See you out there.
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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Oct 11, 2011 - 12:56pm PT
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That last bit reminds me of this
"If you understood everything I said, you'd be me,"
-Miles Davis
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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Oct 17, 2011 - 11:56pm PT
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October 15, 2011
Smoke Blanchard's Rock Course
After driving in from the Bay Area with Jaybro and Linda and spending the night as guests of Em's at the "Old Climber's Home" we awoke to the beginning of another glorious day in the "Range of Light."
We had gathered to follow Doug around on the "Rock Course" which was the subject of the "Buttermilking" section above. The crowd had grown with Ken and Russ tagging along with scuffy, Gary, Jaybro, Em, Linda and me, along with Jillian, Luke, Paul, Christie and Marsha, spanning ages from the 20's to the 60's. 14 in all with the additional knowledge of Paul, who had also learned something about the course from his years on the East Side.
We had descended on the start of the course which was the camp of Hannah's for the preceding week, which was solitary... Hannah was leaving for Squamish BC to meet up with a friend that same day, and left us with stuff she could not transport on the plane... I assured here that if she got in touch with Anders that he would compensate her for all of the stuff she left behind... she just had to mention my name...
Here is her picture, Anders, put the expenses on my tab...
The course as described above is through the rock labirynth ascending something like 12 pinnacles with various names. The course itself began as part of Blanchard's "mountain walking" in 1942. I can relate to the difficulty of following the course, and remembering it and the names for the various pinnacles, I've found that I've already forgotten some of it.
The beginning of the course starts as a warm-up of sorts, and increases in difficulty as it goes through the various bits...
I think this is Porcupine Pinnacle...
My recording was split between the camera and the video camera... so I didn't get everything in still images... but other's did and hopefully they'll post here too...
Paul soloing up a different way from other recent journeys...
which added a touch of spice to this part of the course. There was plenty of time in a group this large to have conversations waiting for everyone to surmount the particular problems...
and many places which evoke old pictures from the past...
lots of fine scrambling in chimneys and various activities that reminded me of being a kid and climbing around in the desert and just having fun.
The pinnacles keep on happening as the day wore on, beautiful weather, warm with high cloud cover to keep it pleasant, and just enough of a breeze too.
After real poetry from Ken the art of the moment and the movement once again take hold.
Russ on a chimney traverse
Our intrepid leader carefully ascending an offwidth bit...
with relics of the past witnessing the passing of yet another generation on the course
and with the last of the group off this pinnacle, we arrive in Picnic Valley and enjoy a wonderful meal while viewing our next objective.
Some of our group departed at this point, and the rest swarmed over various approaches to our next objective.
scuffy "birthing" from the Belly Tester Crevice,
and Luke making his way across Sharp's Scenic Stroll eschewing the rope
after which we had one last intimidating move to the top...
Which marked our final summit for the day. After getting instructions from Doug on the final third of the course... we descended a long chimney that Paul knew about
got a group photo
and departed for a wonderful meal that Paul and Luke prepared at Paul's... whose home we apparently converted into "Trad Daddy Central" for the evening.
It was wonderful, thanks to Doug for the invitation to come out and play. Meeting new climbers and seeing old friends was delightful!
We had fun.
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H
Mountain climber
there and back again
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Oct 18, 2011 - 12:19am PT
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Great report Ed. Yeah I remember hearing that Doug was doing this. I have been working way too much lately so I could not make it. But I am go glad that you and some of our friends could too..
Doug is so kind to lead you all up this classic route. Thanks for getting me there through your pictures and words. I remember reading Smoke Blanchard's book and wondered where this and many other special places were on the East side.
Great read if you get a chance>
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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Oct 18, 2011 - 01:43am PT
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Ken recited this on the summit of the "Skin Diver" from Rudyard Kipling's Jungle Book
Road-Song of the Bandar-Log
Here we go in a flung festoon,
Half-way up to the jealous moon!
Don't you envy our pranceful bands?
Don't you wish you had extra hands?
Wouldn't you like if your tails were--so--
Curved in the shape of a Cupid's bow?
Now you're angry, but--never mind,
Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
Here we sit in a branchy row,
Thinking of beautiful things we know;
Dreaming of deeds that we mean to do,
All complete, in a minute or two--
Something noble and wise and good,
Done by merely wishing we could.
We've forgotten, but--never mind,
Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
All the talk we ever have heard
Uttered by bat or beast or bird--
Hide or fin or scale or feather--
Jabber it quickly and all together!
Excellent! Wonderful! Once again!
Now we are talking just like men!
Let's pretend we are ... never mind,
Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
This is the way of the Monkey-kind.
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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Oct 18, 2011 - 01:45am PT
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"The way that can be known is not the way".
But guys like Doug can show us anyway...
Em, Linda, Doug, Luke, Ed
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Mighty Hiker
climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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Oct 18, 2011 - 02:12am PT
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Thanks, Ed!
I'd be happy to talk with Hannah, and help her out as feasible. She need only call or e-mail.
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BooDawg
Social climber
Butterfly Town
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Oct 18, 2011 - 04:00am PT
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Thanks to Doug for leading this little expedition and to Ed for the intitial set of pictures and his narrative. It was a wonderful gathering even tho it sorely tested my out of shape muscles and out of tune techniques. Still, it was a most memorable experience, and I really enjoyed seeing those whom I'd met before and meeting new friends as well. Here are some more pictures to add to the thread and a few more words as well.
That's all folks!
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scuffy b
climber
dissected alluvial deposits, late Pleistocene
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Oct 18, 2011 - 11:39am PT
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Yes, eKat, when I got to those and smelled them, my out-of-touch self said
"that must be Chrysothamnus nauseosum." Boo was mildly skeptical.
An interesting take on rappel methods, or maybe we were really abseiling,
is that Ed is doing the Dulfersitz the wrong way, which I also showed to
Gary. When I jumped into my Dulfer it was obvious that I had goofed on my
instruction to Gary.
A most, most, MOST ENJOYABLE outing, based on the mix of traveling modes,
general camaraderie, and sky-high aesthetics. Add in the bonuses of meeting
Mr. McClinsky, getting to climb with Boche for the first time (he was one
of my early heroes because of all those 5.9 face climbs in the green Roper
etc), reuniting with Jill and Luke and Marsha, I was blissed out.
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franky
Trad climber
Bishop, CA
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Oct 18, 2011 - 12:00pm PT
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It was nice having you all over at The Zoo for dinner!
Crusty trad dudes have the best stories!
It didn't hurt that you brought beer.
Wish I had been able to get out on the rock course. It is always fun.
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Ihateplastic
Trad climber
It ain't El Cap, Oregon
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Oct 18, 2011 - 12:07pm PT
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First... DAMN! I wish I could have been on this expedition!
Second... DR is sure styling' in that Dolt shirt!
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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Oct 18, 2011 - 03:12pm PT
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yes, I hadn't used the Dulfersitz in a long time and got it wrong in that instance, as scuffy wisely points out.. but I think I got it right other times....
http://www.traditionalmountaineering.org/FAQ_Dulfersitz.htm
Illustration by Mike Clelland From Climbing Ice, Duane Raleigh, 1995
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Zander
climber
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Oct 24, 2011 - 06:50pm PT
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Hey Ed,
Thanks for posting about the course and inspiring others to post their pics. Looks like fun. Gary told me you all had a good time.
Take care,
Zander
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Batrock
Trad climber
Burbank
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Oct 24, 2011 - 08:17pm PT
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I just bought Smoke's book, can't wait to get it.
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bvb
Social climber
flagstaff arizona
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The Pain Index will let you know if you've got your Dulfie correct. Done correctly, they're not too bad. You just gotta remember to go really slow.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Mar 10, 2012 - 01:57pm PT
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Who doesn't need a couple of new facets on the old Gemstones! LOL
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tom woods
Gym climber
Bishop, CA
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Mar 10, 2012 - 02:36pm PT
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That picture of Paul soloing up the brown patina thing reminds me of one of my favorite days up there. It was snowing lightly and I was all jazzed on that wall of 21 cracks right there. I wandered up to what I thought was a cool chimney and found that Patina wall that Paul is on. I climbed it and found the jump off on the backside to be most entertaining.
I was by myself, in light snow, the kind that doesn't stick much but looks awesome as it falls. I went up expecting one thing, and found another. Classic buttermilk.
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Mighty Hiker
climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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Jul 27, 2012 - 04:42pm PT
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A friend recently gave me a copy of Smoke Blanchard's book "Walking Up and Down in the World: Memories of a Mountain Rambler." Is it anything particularly novel or interesting? I thought perhaps I could bring it to the FaceLift, and maybe give it to someone who knew or has an interest in Blanchard. Or simply sell it to someone in exchange for a donation to the YCA?
No sign of Hannah yet. Bump.
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ß Î Ø T Ç H
Boulder climber
bouldering
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Jul 27, 2012 - 06:41pm PT
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A friend recently gave me a copy of Smoke Blanchard's book "Walking Up and Down in the World: Memories of a Mountain Rambler." Is it anything particularly novel or interesting? That's a good book. You should read it.
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Doug Tomczik
climber
Bishop
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Jul 27, 2012 - 06:44pm PT
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You should read it.
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Mighty Hiker
climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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Jul 27, 2012 - 08:19pm PT
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Well, yes - that was always part of the plan. Read it, see how it goes. But maybe I'll want to pass it on.
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Tarbuster
climber
right here, right now
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Jul 28, 2012 - 12:06am PT
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Thanks for putting together the video Ed Hartouni!
Fun music choices to boot.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Where there's Smoke there's...FUN!
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mechrist
Gym climber
South of Heaven
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Such a blast that! Reminds me of some of the stuff down in Cochise (Inner Passage or something).
After topping out whatever Sharp's leads to I heard a crazy whimper. I looked around and Rick, my buddies heeler, contemplating a 20' jump with over 100' of vertical consequences. We had left him down in the valley and he "knew his way around." No idea how he made it as far as he did, but there he was... crazy pup.
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
Santa Cruz, CA
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Heelers are so bold and intrepid, aren't they. They are found frequently in the back of carpenters' pickups here in California at least. They look just cute as hell but if you transgress over the rail of the truck bed, they often will semi-bite you and warn you off of Daddy's rig. Hilarious. Love them.
I would remind everybody that Smoke's book is a really good read; don't miss it. Easily bought online used for about $4 too.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Dec 28, 2013 - 07:38pm PT
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Sierra Icon bump...
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Greg Barnes
climber
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Smoke bump!
Here's a strange question: is anyone collecting gear for a Bishop/Eastside climbing collection? And if the answer is yes, would anyone be interested in Smoke's snow tent stakes which he used in Alaska (my mom thinks late '60s/very early '70s)? My mom bought his tent (the 4-person red pyramidal one if anyone remembers) in the '70s and we used it until it disintegrated (decades ago), but I just found the tent snow stakes in her garage.
Let me know if so and I'll send them to you (or give them to a local to hand off) -
Greg
PS OK, I took a photo too:
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A-Train
climber
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Smoke Blanchard was the first climber I ever heard about when I was 19 years old (many, many years ago). I learned to climb from his nephew at the University of Oregon outdoor program. Smoke was an absolute legend! More stories please!
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ß Î Ø T Ç H
Boulder climber
ne'er–do–well
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Sep 20, 2015 - 12:34am PT
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The book (Walking Up and Down in the World) is an absolute classic.
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Mark Force
Trad climber
Ashland, Oregon
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Sep 20, 2015 - 10:37am PT
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Two thumbs up for Smoke Blanchard's book!
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tom woods
Gym climber
Bishop, CA
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Did a bunch of it yesterday, with a pretty knowledgeable guide. I think I can remember what we did and show others.
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FRUMY
Trad climber
Bishop,CA
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bump
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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I wanna do it again!!
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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - Nov 9, 2015 - 08:08pm PT
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Here we are, Tom, on the Skin Diver summit with lots of fine company.
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tom woods
Gym climber
Bishop, CA
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Nov 10, 2015 - 06:40am PT
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Way cool. Thanks again Doug and Amy. And thanks for the shot Jody, I wasn't sure who was out there taking the shot. We're famous now for sure. I'll send in my two weeks on the day job.
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Doug Robinson
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - Nov 10, 2015 - 08:55pm PT
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End of the day, descending west off the Big Slab Pinnacle. Eva's shot here shows most of the descent chimney unusually well.
News Flash: I have been puzzling lately over Smoke's description of the Aboriginal Chimney, a "vertical, four-sided chimney" off the back of the Big Slab Pinnacle. Coming down this descent route again, I found it! It is near the top of this descent, back in the upper chimney, so of course not visible in this view.
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tom woods
Gym climber
Bishop, CA
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Nov 11, 2015 - 06:42am PT
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What a cool natural passage off the top. I came home and read more about the course since I could now match some memories to the old descriptions. I wondered if the west chimney was the part of the four sided chimney.
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Klimmer
Mountain climber
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Nov 26, 2015 - 11:37am PT
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Just been looking into it more hoping to do it soon. You can read the entire thread, and should, or you can get the goods right away ...
This thread ...
Smoke's Book of course and ...
Video:
Smoke's Rock Course
By Ed Hartouni
https://vimeo.com/34451549
The Curious Tale of Smoke Blanchard and his Buttermilk Rock Course, by Doug Robinson
http://movingoverstone.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Smokes-Rock-Course.pdf
I'm ok with guide books and articles about great climbs. It's human to want share the joy with others. I don't see it being a problem or it being overrun. No worries. There is a time and place for secret areas and climbs we want to keep to ourselves. It you really don't want to share it then tell no one. Just do it. There is so much of that throughout the World still to do. Share it when you want to or don't. It's your call.
I'm glad Doug shared Smoke Blanchard's Buttermilk Rock Course. No doubt there are countless variations to do also.
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Jon Beck
Trad climber
Oceanside
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Bump for Smoke. Did part of the course with Doug and eleven others Saturday at the Highball Classic. We finished with the Fat Man Chimney (about a third of the course?), which was posted in a picture earlier. Doug was awesome, lots of history and he told us he is working on a map of the course. Miles and Amy of Lone Pine/Whitney Portal fame and shenanigans helped guide, they are always entertaining. Doug kept us trad with body belays and bowlines. Lunch and wine (Smoke's tradition) was waiting for us at Picnic Valley.
Great to see this tradition revived and hopefully well documented I talked to Russ at the event later Saturday night and he told me that he had done the course with Smoke.
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Flip Flop
climber
Earth Planet, Universe
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Mar 11, 2018 - 01:24pm PT
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Bump for more Smoke
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| Messages 1 - 110 of total 110 in this topic |
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SuperTopo on the Web
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Smoke Blanchard's entire Rock Course
Let us know!