Love this shot, and it helped me remember a rough night I'd almost forgotten from way back when. Climbed the Salathe around 1979 or so with a European climber. I had been kidnapped (not really) on a Grateful Dead tourbus. It was supposed to be a quick trip from Boulder, Co to Ventura for a show, then back to Boulder , but it ended up being a six week 'trip' which necessitated spending a few weeks in Yosemite prior to the Stanford shows. I had nothing but a fleece jacket, a pair of shoes and and a chalkbag. Not even a harness or raingear. The European, whose English was spotty and whose name I forget, had a small rack. We made and/or scrounged all the rest of the gear from friendly valley locals (thanks again Fish for the haulbag loan).
We also went right at this shot--there was a misleading fixed pin way up and right (probably still is), but then we continued and were benighted in the middle of nowhere in slings. Next morning some desperate climbing, tension traverses, and pendulums to get back on route. Never got to see Sout le Toit until I climbed the route again about ten years later with Walt and another friend.