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Bushman
Social climber
Elk Grove, California
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Topic Author's Original Post - Oct 4, 2015 - 01:52am PT
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In Days of Yore; the Tobin Effect
I reflect on memories of that bro of mine so often, it's only natural I should think about him more than most. But I would guess, many of his friends still think about him just as much. My best 'Tobin' climbing memory is from back in '75. He was leading the first pitch proper of the Cobra, a near vertical flared and shallow groove to the left of the main corner, on the first free ascent of the route, some forty years ago. By today's safety standards it was a sketchily protected lead off a sketchily protected belay on 10+ or 11a nut protected climbing. I was only subliminally frightened at the time, concentrating on catching what might have been a long, and slab slapping fall.
To the left of the main Cobra dihedral is an adjacent shallow left facing corner that parallels the main corner for about half way up. Avoiding the main dirt filled corner, we took that shallow corner for two pitches to where it ended at a good ledge, we then joined the main corner for two or more pitches to the summit.
On the little ledge at the base of the corner we made small talk and swapped gear, some 1000 up at the top of the slab. Not far to the right of our belay, the polished granite fell away off a giant arch. At 18 years old I had only been climbing primarily in JT or Idyllwild and this was my first big climbing trip in the Valley, so I had never experienced that kind of exposure. But at 20 years of age, Tobin had already written his legacy in stone on scores of first ascents and hard free climbs. He was fervently self disciplined, tempered by his passion and sacrifices, unusually soft-spoken and always humble at heart. Of course, I trusted him implicitly.
As Tobin stood gripping himself to the base of the flared, shallow crack he studied it saying, "I'm only going to be able to get in one good piece for most of the way so keep the rope running fast so I don't have any drag until I reach the ledge." He worked at some slippery wide jams for ten or fifteen feet, placed our largest hex at the highest point before the crack became too shallow, and then launched into a shuffling lie-back.
He moved quickly then, hanging his body off the right side of the shallow crack, making quick reaches with arms and pedaling his feet in a nearly barn dooring fashion, and swiftly covering at least thirty feet before getting some good fingers jams where the crack deepened and jagged horizontal. He paused briefly there and worked, finally getting in a couple smaller hexes while he admonished me to watch him. Of course I was rapt, eyes fixated to the distant welterweight frame as he moved faster then, near frantic almost hopping up the rock for the last twenty five feet or so, to a good stance and belay.
Grateful for the Jumars it was one of the pitches that, unlike Tobin, I was as yet unable or ill prepared to free that day. The next lead was mine at his coaxing; it looked for me a doable and protectable crack and then onto face climbing up a slightly less angled arête within the corner. It would prove one my hardest leads to date and I dug my deepest not to peel after the crux before collapsing on the ledge. There's more to tell of this story, but it will have to wait for now.
The years up to and for a few years after he left us were by far my most active years of climbing. I was an average climber, doing mostly short and well protected 5.8 to 5.10 routes. But Tobin's influence, though I rarely climbed with him, spurred me on to doing many harder and longer routes than I ever thought I was capable of. And though I didn't achieve much of note compared to his accomplishments, Tobin always treated my efforts as worthy. When I saw him he always told me as much, and it made me feel important in his eyes. For that I'll always be grateful to the brother and the man he was. In my adolescence and young adulthood I felt as if I had little or no moral compass. Tobin's influence had a profound influence on me that I never fully appreciated until much later in life.
Throughout his short life I saw him speak in his encouraging way to other climbers he came across who were struggling at a crux or in some way needed some kind of spiritual uplifting. Though I never saw him preach he extolled the positive, for it was his way. He acted like every day was a teaching or a learning moment. And though he was a young man, he was mature beyond his years, but forever childlike in a playful way, a practical joker by nature, with deep spiritual convictions. He was quiet at times, but at other times was joyfully animated. He had a certain way with me as he did with so many others. It was the 'Tobin' effect.
It has been thirty five years tomorrow since Tobin left us. To celebrate how the 'Tobin' effect accelerated my own climbing experience, I put together a kind of poetic collage of some of my big wall experiences from 'Days of Yore.'
Tim Sorenson
10/04/2015
To Monoliths of Impermanent Inspiration
By two a.m. I finally sleep,
To starlight crisp the waking dream holds run-outs long on crack-less seams,
Opening my eyes to see,
That climbing's sharp reality has only traipsed the fringe of boyhood dreams,
The beep, beep, beep awakens me,
Puffing now I launch the pendulum again provoking ire,
Smears grind as the nut goes in,
Shred fingertips and bicep cramps less worrisome than the dreaded gyre,
Now pulling shoes on angry feet,
Making time we pause to bask as warmth resounds off looming parapets,
Another exposed bivouac,
Hastens our commitment to gain the sunlit ribbon of a silvery arête,
The crisp cold wind announces,
A preface to our stuttered chills as dawn reveals a streaked and golden headwall,
So stately in its splendor,
Our exposure all the better as the bag hanging free becomes an easy haul,
With my thoughts on the descent,
I rarely remember those things so serendipitous at all,
As if the law of gravity,
Were somehow suspended when standing at the summit of a wall,
Somewhere later down below,
Awaits the histrionic telling 'round the fireside with friends a bold adventure,
But for now I'm focused,
As the crashing of the waters remind my every footfall to stay true and sure.
-bushman
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Mark Rodell
Trad climber
Bangkok
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Tim, very cool text and pics. The Tobin effect is ringing out through all spaces and all times. Thank you for posting this.
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Avery
climber
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Simply wonderful, Bushman.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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I am always in awe - Tobins' brother?
Real for reals I tell my dead father,
Hey pops is this great and insane forty years on and I still know that kid in magazines name!
And his little brother and I share more than a love of fading glory -
we talk, cryptically but with so much hart!
Hey pops do you get it! Climbing and all that it had to offer was my MIT
Thank you for a early morning share, my wife is lonely, but this, is so more appealing
Than morning breath Sunday cuddles that end with kids dog, and little gnome with a hat,
all in bed together - a Sunday thing I'm lucky to get.
As the only one around who could manage to climb the 5.10 back in 73 I knew what I wanted,
and grabbed any one I could show how to belay (around the waist or a tree)
and would lap the 30 foot, Triple Over Hangs.
A few years latter Lynn Hill's1st husband told me he climbed it first .I went home from the Gunks and led it. - First.?
Tobin has always been an enigma, his conflicted race to the edge of oblivion left so many boys struggling to except the reality of the on coming man-hood we have now all embraced.
For me he has remained the highest example of pulling purity. His gaze has never left me. His image on Insomnia is what I see when I close my eyes and think
I am a climber I am a stone master I am a good person in gods eyes and I do what I should do
I climb because that's what Tobin would want me to do.. . . . The Tobin Effect.
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MisterE
Gym climber
Being In Sierra Happy Of Place
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Beautiful writing, Bushman - thanks.
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skcreidc
Social climber
SD, CA
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^^^^^Truly. A great read and thanks for posting it up!
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Bldrjac
Ice climber
Boulder
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Tim,
Great memories! Amazing how time is when it involves someone you love. I'm sure it's hard to believe so many years have passed..........and yet, and yet, he's still with you...........
Glad you posted up.
Pam
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Bushman
Social climber
Elk Grove, California
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Topic Author's Reply - Oct 4, 2015 - 10:54am PT
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After Tobin' accident, mom kept in touch with Elizabeth through channels for several more years. 'Biza' was the nickname Tobin and his college friends had for her. We knew that she fell in love again and was married a few years after Tobin died, and that they had children.
Tragically, her husband died only a few years later. I'm sorry to say I don't know anything more about her life after that. Mom passed away in 2005, but my younger brother and sister did mentioned recently that Elizabeth still lives in the Southern California area.
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TGT
Social climber
So Cal
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your brother was enamored by that line, The Cobra, from his very first trip to the ditch.
I remember walking out to where we could see it, old green guidebook in hand.
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murcy
Gym climber
sanfrancisco
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Wow. Thank you.
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Scylax
Trad climber
Idaho
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As a relative noob to climbing I never heard of him until that recent? article in Alpinist. He sounds like he was a fine human being in addition to being a great climber.
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The Chief
climber
Down the hill & across the Valley from......
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Tim...
Your Brother is STILL an awesome influence to many of us "Old Timers" here. Climbing as with many other entities in life. His incredible mannerisms and spirit will never be forgotten. I feel so privi to have conversed a handful of different times with him. He was always willing to share insights and beta. I would have never gotten on and done Valhalla had it not been for Tobin's powerful inspiration and motivation.
Thank you for this tough yet powerful share.
Rick Poedtke
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jstan
climber
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Tobin's words via Wiki's footnote 5:
...it was climb, climb, climb, don't stop and don't look back. Climbing was my god,
and I looked to it for my meaning, my social life, my every need. I finally got to this point of
fame I had always wanted, but when I stood on this little mountain of mine, this summit of
fame and ability, I began to see the emptiness of it all..."
He went on to say:
“... to me climbing is one of the ultimate challenges in life, but by itself climbing can be very
meaningless..."
What is it that causes that feeling of emptiness deep inside a person's
consciousness even after attaining a goal they have dreamed of for years?
Achievement of a goal is either an end or the commitment to a new goal.
Both come from within.
Unnecessary losses are always painful.
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deuce4
climber
Hobart, Australia
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Thank you. After all these years of hearing about Tobin, this is the finest homage.
His legend lives strong in Arapiles, where I am heading tomorrow, and his routes are still test pieces.
Walt was obsessed with the Cobra for a while; it took some doing to recruit a partner for that feared Unknown, high up on the valley rim....
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bhilden
Trad climber
Mountain View, CA/Boulder, CO
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Thank you Tim for an insightful read.
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BLUEBLOCR
Social climber
joshua tree
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Wow Bushman that's some really great writing👏
The stories are good too, but they wouldn't be have as so without your remembrance 🙇
Thank You
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Avery
climber
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Tobin Sorenson on the 1st ascent of "Ex Cathedra" (24/5.12a). Castle Rock, Christchurch, New Zealand. 1979.
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overwatch
climber
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Thanks for the thread. Agreed with good writing
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Jefe'
Boulder climber
Bishop
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Dibs, me and Richard Harrison used to pick Tobin up at, I think it was your Dad's cabin in Baldy, whenever Tobin was there to boulder at Baldy. The first time we went, I think 1973, it was hilarious to watch Tobin not able to get up anything off the deck. He was totally frustrated with bouldering, but could just blow through an 11 with sketchy pro. Anyway that day he found a small boulder down canyon on the left side of the bank, with a finger crack about 3' long, flashed that, and was so happy that he did something that day. He was so much fun to be around, always upbeat, laughing, grinning, just having fun.
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Bushman
Social climber
Elk Grove, California
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Topic Author's Reply - Oct 5, 2015 - 12:53pm PT
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Thank you to all for posting your warm memories of Tobin and for your thoughtful e-mails.
I am bumping an older Tobin Thread in the forum with a some more Tobin pics etc. and am posting the link here also.
http://www.supertopo.com/climbers-forum/1628602/Tobin-Sorenson
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survival
Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
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Wow.
Wonderful.
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Here are some Cobra photos to go with your memories from the FFA!
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survival
Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
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The hangdog shot is the best!!
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hobo_dan
Social climber
Minnesota
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Thanks for sharing the memories of your brother. Hope you ring it up again next year.
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yanqui
climber
Balcarce, Argentina
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I heard those Tobin stories when I first started climbing. Must have been spring of 1979. I should have been finishing up my last quarter on my B.A. in philosophy but I had decided to check out the rocks at Minnehaha and after that I was hooked. Instead of going to class, I would spend every minute I could find climbing, hiking, hanging out by the rocks. I even managed to get some other friends interested in it for a short, but magical time. We formed a tight-knit and directed group. Adventure was our game.
There was an older, ex-climber hippy-type who used to hang out by rocks. He'd suddenly appear when we'd start bouldering or top roping and shout beta at us (usually wrong). We called him "Yosemite Bob" (or something like that) because he had once climbed a 5.10 in Yosemite. We were impressed. Yosemite Bob knew Tobin stories. He wasn't the only one. Kim Momb and Dane Burns were two of the local hard guys and important figures in the early development of Spokane climbing. They were gracious enough to help out some clueless noobs like us. They had also been to Yosemite and knew Tobin stories too.
I was born in California and spent my grade school years in the San Fernando Valley. I didn't have much interest in ever going back. However, in spring of 1981, some of plans I had set for my life had begun to unravel. For one thing, the girl I thought I would marry had left to work in the San Fransisco Bay Area. So I made my one and only pilgrimage back to California. And guess what: I spent more time climbing than repairing the rift in my relationship. In a three week stay at Yosemite I ran into a local guy that I had met a year earlier, climbing around Icicle Canyon in Washington (I wish I could remember his name or who he was!). One day, I found myself climbing Higher Cathedral Spire with the local guy and an Australian. They were testing me out for a go at Quarter Domes (I did OK on the spire: leading straight over some roof on the second pitch and leading most of the other pitches as well!). After that, I found myself (with my girlfriend, I think) in the middle of a spontaneous party that somehow had errupted in El Cap Meadows. Bushman was there. I remember that specifically (although I'm sure he doesn't). It hadn't been that long since Tobin's accident and it seemed everybody connected to climbing was aware of it. Another guy I somehow knew (from Spokane?) told me how Bushman had cruised a pretty rad climb that day. Was it the Good Book? Bushman didn't even hardly need to place gear, I was told. I was impressed. We (I mean everyone present at the party, if I recall correctly) locked arms together and proceeded to run backwards as fast as we could across the meadows until, at last, we fell down in the grass, exhausted.
After that trip, my relationship with my fiancée would fall apart completely and I would never go went back to California again. But I can honestly say, it all worked out fine for me.
Cheers Bushman.
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NutAgain!
Trad climber
South Pasadena, CA
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Your writing shares the magic across generations. Thanks for helping his spirit and values reach more people.
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climbfitcoachtom
climber
covina, ca
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As always, fantastic writing Bushman.
Thank you for sharing the memories first hand from a fellow climber.
As a child, I recall being amazed and a bit fearful for my brother and his friends on weekend excursions to JT and Idylwild as the hikes were grueling to the base of what was the target climb for the weekend. As the guys would work their way higher and higher up and out of site, it was usually the job of the belayer to keep an eye on the lead as well as keep an eye on me as an 8 or 9 year old climbing around on trees and rocks just high enough to get hurt.
Im sure that I was more a nuisance than anything but, at the time was in heaven just to be in the company of guys like John L, Mike G, Rick A, John B and Tobin. I was always looking forward to camp at night and tales from the day's events on conquering the massive, vertical slabs of granite.
What an awesome group of guys as they all took turns in keeping an eye on me... and my brothers. At the time I had no idea that I was a part of something so historic and timeless.
I have never in my life seen such a bond between teammates.
To trust another with your life in such a way was amazing to me and I was in awe of the abilities of these guys as they would sometimes take breathtaking falls and sacrifice skin and bone to master their skill.
Each offering their own unique ability and different technique to freeing the routes that were once only climbed with aid.
...Awesome!
Thank you for your photos, posts and comments as they are all read with a lump in my throat and an appreciation for being lucky enough to be a part of a sport that at the time was being changed by true heroic pioneers.
Such an influence each has had on my life, that not a day goes by without some sort of reflection of a day in my youth and "camping" with my brother's friends...The StoneMasters.
TS
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Largo
Sport climber
The Big Wide Open Face
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Nice write up, Tim.
Of course none of never got over losing Tobin. He was way out in front. I think about him often.
JL
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mastadon
Trad climber
crack addict
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I knew your brother peripherally in Yosemite in the 70's. He had so much spirit that it seems inconceivable that he's gone.
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jstan
climber
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OK. Tobin was way out in front. If so it's a damn shame we don't have his counsel now two generations later.
Think about it.
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couchmaster
climber
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Thought about it jsan: good point. Great thread. Thanks!
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Bushman
Social climber
Elk Grove, California
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Topic Author's Reply - Oct 10, 2015 - 02:12pm PT
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The youngest of us brothers (8 years younger than Tobin), Tom was only around 17 or 18 in these pics at J.T. We were on a couple routes on Headstone I think.
We went out climbing together several times at Bishops peak and Yosemite in the mid '90s and he could get up anyhting I could by then. Always a strong dude, he got taller than Tobin and I by a few inches, so now I always call him my 'big' little brother. He flashed Sacherer Cracker then, and we did all the pitches (really a cool route I always thought). Tom cranked on all the harder .10s we did together as well.
In a legendary row, about a year before we lost Tobin, Tom and I had it out one time at my dad's house in Arroyo Grande over some sibling rivalry bullsh#t. I was pretty much at fault as usual and should have taken the high road, and we almost put each other in the hospital. He was in his teens and I was in my early twenties, and it wasn't a fair fight, but that kid stood his ground and woudn't take any B.S. from his A-hole older brother. It was a brutal nighttime barnyard brawl and with no witnesses, we both fought dirty. After I served him a humiliating smackdown and a dirt facial, he retreated into the shadows to lie in wait. Foolishly, I tracked him into a darkened horse stable only to be blindsided when he nearly broke my arm with a steel pipe. I gave chase through a field and he came out from behind a tree with a two x four, and almost broke my other arm. He once again fled and finally escaped as I ran after him in a crazed stupor, both arms flailing uselessly at my sides. It was pretty ugly and we didn't talk for weeks. Then one day in passing we both said, "Hey," and that was the end of it, bygones be bygones.
Tom has a true Sorenson sense of humor and we always talk to each other for days about all of our crazy adventures whenever we get together. He has a sometimes clumsy and somewhat reckless streak like myself as well. Needless to say, I really love that guy and I couldn't ask for a more stellar brother.
Tom is the sprout on the right (not the dog).
A little more recently.
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bbbeans
Trad climber
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Oct 11, 2015 - 08:28am PT
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A touching tribute indeed. Great read about a great man!
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Rick A
climber
Boulder, Colorado
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Oct 11, 2015 - 08:39am PT
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Beautifully done, Tim, the story, photos, and the poem.
That is classic Tobin style, right there. Layback up for thirty feet and trust that you’ll somehow manage to get a nut in higher. For that type of layback, modern cams are a huge improvement. Fiddling blindly with nuts and trying to will them into sticking around the corner, was often a fool’s errand.
Clint: Thanks for the photos of the Cobra, the last pitch in the mouth of the serpent looks incredible.
Jstan: I think I get your point: that climbing is not worth dying for. And I could not agree more. But engaging in any style of climbing--even if confined only to gyms or sport climbs-- still results in accidents and “unnecessary losses” compared to staying earthbound. Tobin pushed the envelope more than what the rest of us might consider prudent, but we all take some level of risk to engage in this pastime.
As to Tom, I remember him. I think he may have been camping in Yosemite Valley with his dad when Tobin and I did Sentinel Falls. Say hello to him for me! I had a similar, but much less brutal, fight with my older brother when I was 14 and he was 16. Like your battle, it was a red letter date in our relationship :).
Rick
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