Zion, 1971

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Jello

Social climber
No Ut
Topic Author's Original Post - Oct 19, 2006 - 02:24pm PT
This story first appeared in the 1972 issue of Ascent. I'm going to include it as one of two stories in the book I'm working on, illustrating the experience of the classic old style of mixed free and aid climbing on big walls. In addition to the stories, this section of the book will have a guide to about 30 aid climbs, done during the period 1967 through 1973, which will be titled The Big-wall Era. After that time, I abandoned aid climbing altogether in favor of free climbing.

ZION: A SACRED PLACE
The Ascent of Isaac in the Court of the Patriarchs

The roadside plaque reads: Jacob, Isaac and Abraham – The Three Patriarchs. Isaac, between Jacob and Abraham, soars up all craggy steep to a narrow, pointed summit. It seems friendlier to the climber than the suave aloofness of Jacob, and, really, Abraham is a fat old man who can’t see his own toes. Across the way is the “Toad”, my own term, actually, for a chameleon-like character who in the wink of an eye can change from the Stalwart Southern Guardian of the Court of the Patriarchs into a Despicable Beast, spitting dirt and bushes on you in the most disgusting manner imaginable. If you’d been there like I was, you’d have wished you were on Isaac, instead, like I did…
We’re climbing in what must be the intestine, winding our way through the recesses of a chimney so deep that there is not even enough light to take pictures. At first, the chimney is a twelve-inch slot, into which Wick and I must squeeze our bodies, squirming to gain purchase on the smooth sandstone. Our struggles match those of Mike and John, who are in the lead for the day. At the end of each pitch we clip into their belay bolt. In the lower chimney we have some difficulty hauling our sack and Wick must constantly dislodge it as he follows. Higher, the chimney widens and sack hauling is no problem, but as we look up through the eerie gloom the crack seems to yawn too wide. A questioning shout bounces off the rock but Mike assures us from above that the chimney still goes. By stemming between the narrowest undulations of these dark walls, we find the climbing still reasonable, though scary, and continue at a fair pace.
However, the intestine is lengthy, and for most of the day Isaac hides us in his bowels, until at last John leads us through a constricted, dirty tunnel, and the four of us burst out into light.
The light appears to us as it must to a coal miner up from a day’s work half a mile underground. The sun, low down between the Toad and Jacob, gives a warm yellow life to the things on the First Ledge: the prickly pear, the manzanita, the yucca, us. The light gives depth to the air below us, and detail to the things around us. Our shadows give weight to our conviction that we exist. See there: we block the rays of the sun. We are up from down below, where life is not quite real, but closer to a dream.


Routes on Jacob (George and Jerff Lowe, 1972),left, and Isaac (Jeff Lowe, Mike Weis, John Weiland and Wick Beavers, 1971), right.


As we follow the setting sun up between the First and Second Ledges, our minds are eased by the texture of the soft red sandstone. It’s more like a lover’s ass than cold stone, and a gentle caress, not a forceful tug, gets us where we want to go. As the color of the rock blushes to a glowing pink in the sunset, we begin to accept the offerings that emanate from the things around us.
Night finds us drinking Coors around a campfire on the brushy Second Ledge. Four pairs of eyes reflect the fire and blink like stars in the blue-black night. A thousand feet up the southeastern flank of a mountain named Isaac in the southern Utah canyon named Zion, four voices fill a corner of rock that until now was only distantly aware of men.
“Ahhh, damn that beer tastes good.”
“Pass the peanuts will ya, John.”
“Man, Zion’s really great.”
“There’s just too many damn people in the Valley.”
"In five years this place will be just as crowded."
“Christ, I hope not, maybe we oughta keep it quiet.”
The comfort of the fire makes us reluctant to sleep. A full moon rises while the talk flows on. Far below, the Virgin River mumbles a quiet protest under her breath. Gentle winds carry her whispered worry for her creation to the ears of those who care.
In the February crystal-sparkling Zion morning, we emerge like four young butterflies from down cocoons. Our spirits fly but our bodies are left behind to deal with the cracks of the Tower. Unhampered by pieces of sling and bits of iron, we worm our way up the freedom of a four-inch crack. Fingers curled tight, we conserve our strength by using our fists like nuts in narrow places. The idea is to keep moving; hang around and you soon grow tired. The crack is a ladder with invisible rungs; concentrate, concentrate deeply and you feel them under your feet. Free-climbing, we learn something. We live our lives looking for extremes and loving ease. The rhythm of contrast is the heartbeat of our being. We are like caterpillars on a red-barked tree, inching toward the Change; the more complete we make our cocoon of life, the healthier the butterfly.
On top of the Tower, between parapet walls of sandstone, we begin our evening feast. This climb is different than most, with a campfire every night. As we drink our Golden, Colorado brew, Wick the Jester’s shadow flickers twenty-five feet tall on the headwall above. Tonight the four of us must live out this fantasy. With Isaac, King of Nature as our host, we have a quiet party on the summit of the Tower. In this stark, open hall with a giant pine leaning like a fallen rafter from the roof of some medieval castle, we feel a sad nostalgia for simpler times, when life was enough without inventing games.
In the first rays of the morning sun, the upper headwall is a beaming yellow face. The sun shines brighter, but the light against Isaac stays mellow, rich, easy to look at as John starts to climb up a crack that smiles from the wall. To begin with, the lips are tight, and John inserts a ladder of pins. Later, slowly, he enters the toothless grin and hands and feet take over from the nails. With the sluggishness of a warm-blooded animal in the sun after a chilly night, John climbs on past a tongue of rock hanging from the mouth.
Waiting for our turn, Wick and I lay like sunning lizards on the ledge. We watch as, high above us, Mike climbs an overhanging nose. The nostril’s too wide for pitons so up he goes, shinnying and jamming as best he can. With a few final grunts and an extra-hard heave, he’s over at last. A sigh, almost great enough to be from Isaac himself, rushes though the air. Now it’s time for Wick and me to follow the leaders, upwards through the shining winter day.
As the afternoon purples with sunset, I make a solitary scramble to the summit along a weathered ridge. For the other three, the climb was over when Mike and John led us out the upper corner of the smiling yellow headwall. They feel no need in the lessening light to make a dash for the top-most point. But Isaac’s untouched summit creates a vacuum in my mind that sucks me on and on until I’m there. Obnoxious, soulless, snot-nosed kid, I build a cairn at the very top. Father Isaac stands tolerant still, but not me, only my ego is triumphant. I shuffle back down the ridge and join the others at our bivouac-camp, my steps made heavy by a small stack of stones that weighs on my heart.
Night fades.
Dawn breaks.
Darkness leaves my conscience and new rays fill my soul. My ego made me build the cairn and, curiously, made me suffer by deceiving me into believing I was above my human failings. I brush wind-blown grains of sand off my sleeping bag and spring up in the sun-scrubbed, hope-filled morning to greet the day and the descent.
The descent flows smoothly down backside sloping slabs. We scramble down easier parts, and evergreens hold the rope for us to slide over the steep. The sweeping white ridge of Abraham hides us from the eyes of man and nothing man-made mars our view. We are the first ones here in these hanging canyons on hanging canyons, and there is a hushed and reverent silence as we round corners of the unknown past. Here we find a perfect carpet of green moss growing precariously on a sandy bottom. We make the mistake of trampling on the fragile lawn, our feet crushing and indenting nature’s floor. Well-meaning men, we are the first to leave our destructive mark on this wild place. The next bend reveals the treasure of a million diamonds scattered on the canyon floor. Looking up shaded walls, we see the frozen waterfall whence they’ve fallen. Around the last corner, in the lowest hanging canyon, Mike speeds ahead through a water-carved gorge, under a mammoth, wedged stone, then waits, poised in peaceful, ancient light, still three hundred feet above the world of men.

Toker Villain

Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
Oct 19, 2006 - 02:52pm PT
Ya beat me to it ya geezer. lol
Toker Villain

Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
Oct 19, 2006 - 04:48pm PT
I can't believe quality like THIS needs a bump.

This is history straight from the horse's mouth!
goatboy smellz

climber
boulder county
Oct 19, 2006 - 06:11pm PT
Right On!

no_one

Social climber
Hurricane, Utah
Oct 19, 2006 - 06:24pm PT
Nice!!

chuffer

climber
Oct 19, 2006 - 07:10pm PT
This is what I like about Supertopo. Thanks Jeff!
GhoulweJ

Trad climber
Sacramento, CA
Oct 19, 2006 - 07:23pm PT
Missed 2 phone calls while reading. They can wait. For a few minutes my troublesome week could wait.

Mighty Hiker

Social climber
Vancouver, B.C.
Oct 19, 2006 - 07:25pm PT
Very nice! Even better when I fished it out and looked at the nice B&W photos.

Aaah, the 70s. Swarms of adjectives seeking a noun, any noun. The rosy fingers of sunrise/sunset, caressing the stone... The Meaning of it All. (Sorry, silliness suppressor temporarily turned off..) :)

Any, delightful to read. Some day I must visit Zion.

Anders
johnboy

Trad climber
Can't get here from there
Oct 19, 2006 - 07:52pm PT
Beautiful.

What a great and colorful past you have, thanks for sharing it.
Zander

Trad climber
Berkeley
Oct 19, 2006 - 08:34pm PT
Thanks, Jeff
Tarbuster

climber
right here, right now
Oct 19, 2006 - 09:26pm PT
So Jeff,
Is the Ascent article the one with the Zion routes, as I recall a number of them, arranged almost like a mini-guide and set with a bunch of B&W photos to match? I think it was some of the first info available on Zion?

A buddy of mine who perished on Aconcagua brought some such article to me in the mid seventies, saying: "Forget the Valley Man, check this out, this is what we should be looking to do!".

I remember vaguely that it had an intro which characterized Zion goals as sandstone mountains, more than just walls; it warned (or lured) with tales of route finding issues, long tricky descents, weird vegetation...
paganmonkeyboy

Trad climber
the blighted lands of hatu
Oct 20, 2006 - 12:17am PT
"In this stark, open hall with a giant pine leaning like a fallen rafter from the roof of some medieval castle, we feel a sad nostalgia for simpler times, when life was enough without inventing games."

Thank you. Seriously. Beautiful...
Standing Strong

Mountain climber
1st star to the right & straight on 'til morning
Oct 20, 2006 - 12:18am PT
climbing bump


THANK YOU for sharing this. i love it
Trashman

Trad climber
SLC
Oct 20, 2006 - 09:52am PT
can't let this one slip off the front page

20 years later, it's still "going to be the next yosemite"
Brian in SLC

Social climber
Salt Lake City, UT
Oct 20, 2006 - 02:46pm PT
Sweet. I think I have three copies of that '72 Ascent. What was the title, "East of the Valley, West of the Gunks"?

Man, I've descended "Jacob" Canyon (between Isaac and Jacob) in Zion after climbing Lady Mountain. Ol' pin anchors and star dryvin bolts still there, still hangin' in.

Wild place. Great, great stuff, Jeff.

-Brian in SLC
Jello

Social climber
No Ut
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 20, 2006 - 05:08pm PT
Thanks for the comments, all. I've added a route photo to the original story. Still feeling my way around here.

And Goatboy, where'd you get that awful pic? I must have had a bad day...
MisterE

Social climber
Across Town From Easy Street
Apr 18, 2010 - 01:39pm PT
Another great story. Thanks, Jeff.
Pate

Trad climber
Apr 18, 2010 - 04:01pm PT
Sweet pull E- there's some gems buried on this site- I wish I was more successful at digging them up.

Thanks for the post Jello.
nature

climber
Tucson, AZ
Apr 18, 2010 - 04:08pm PT
here you go, Pate.


you can start here:
http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/forum.php?f=44820&b=10#forum
John Mac

Trad climber
Littleton, CO
Apr 18, 2010 - 04:08pm PT
Thanks for sharing Jeff ... inspiring as usual.
Chiloe

Trad climber
Lee, NH
Apr 18, 2010 - 04:49pm PT
I missed this post the first time around, but certainly didn't miss the original Ascent story.
Jeff's tale of Isaac was in our minds as Joe and I headed up sandstone walls of our own.

Joe and John Byrd made an early ascent of Isaac not long afterwards. I believe they found the "reasonable, though scary" chimney to be scary indeed.
Thorgon

Big Wall climber
Sedr Woolley, WA
Apr 18, 2010 - 08:08pm PT
Hell yeah Jeff, inspirational.....


Thor
Tea

Trad climber
Behind the Zion Curtain
Apr 18, 2010 - 08:12pm PT
"It’s more like a lover’s ass than cold stone, and a gentle caress, not a forceful tug, gets us where we want to go."

"when life was enough without inventing games."

Brilliant...thanks for sharing Jello!

Zander

Trad climber
Berkeley
Apr 18, 2010 - 10:02pm PT
Oh Yeah!
philo

Trad climber
Somewhere halfway over the rainbow
Apr 19, 2010 - 08:53am PT
"Far below, the Virgin River mumbles a quiet protest under her breath. Gentle winds carry her whispered worry for her creation to the ears of those who care".

Beautiful!




It's sad that this wonderful story got lost in the shuffle.
I missed it the first go-round. So glad it got bumped to my Attention.

Jello, me thinks your book will be brilliant.
Double D

climber
Apr 19, 2010 - 09:14am PT
Sweet find...I missed this first round.
NFB

Mountain climber
Wilson, Wyoming
Apr 19, 2010 - 11:47am PT
Thanks for the photos and story! Amazing and magical. Then as now. Stories like this are why I read this site. I can't wait for the book.

“There’s just too many damn people in the Valley.” NO DOUBT
"In five years this place will be just as crowded." I HAVE A SNEAKING SUSPICION THAT THIS WILL NEVER HAPPEN.

I did my first route there 17 years ago and have thought the same thing year after year. Magazine artilces and guidebooks have not changed a thing. The place is damn scary and far from any population density. No crowds then as now.

survival

Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
Apr 19, 2010 - 11:59am PT
Another Jello classic.

Glad you guys gave it the bump!!
SteveW

Trad climber
The state of confusion
Apr 19, 2010 - 04:20pm PT

Bump. . .Thanks, Jello, another inspirational tale.
Fritz

Trad climber
Hagerman, ID
Apr 19, 2010 - 08:33pm PT
Jello: It is always a joy to read your stories. I was a little slow getting to this one, but that adds to my joy in bumping it back up the ST.

Please! Post some more stories.

Thank you, Fritz
pk_davidson

Trad climber
Albuquerque, NM
Aug 25, 2010 - 04:04pm PT
bump for a gem found while digging in the archives
Captain...or Skully

Big Wall climber
Transporter Room 2
Aug 25, 2010 - 04:08pm PT
That's a good one. Fun to read again.
And there's ALWAYS room for Jello.
;-)
Toker Villain

Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
Aug 25, 2010 - 05:00pm PT
A shot from the Out To Pasture thread with Jello and cousin George.

Credit: Piton Ron
yo

climber
a tied-off Tomahawk™
Aug 25, 2010 - 05:12pm PT
L to R: Jeff/Sierra Nevada product placement, Liam Neeson, Tom Frost on ambien, unidentified climber with goblet.





I keed. Legends!
Steve Grossman

Trad climber
Seattle, WA
Aug 25, 2010 - 08:52pm PT
I posted the entire Ascent 72 Zion article and guide on this thread...

http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.php?topic_id=1209198&msg=1220361#msg1220361

The Jello was superb fresh from the mold!~~~~~~
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