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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Topic Author's Original Post - Nov 19, 2008 - 01:21am PT
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I don't have the National Geographic magazine article, perhaps one of you does and can post it... but Don has a story he's working on and he'd like to post it together with that article...
here's what I could come up with on short notice:
Main Fisher Tower: The Titan. Layton Kor, George Hurley, and I made the first ascent of the Tower in May. On May 5-6 we climbed halfway to the summit, stringing the tower as we climbed. We returned and completed the climb on May 12-13. The Titan has not been surveyed, but comparison with human figures in photographs indicates an approximate average height of 900 feet on three sides. A saddle on the north side gives access to the route, which has about 650 vertical feet of technical climbing. The rock is Moenkopi sandstone which has a disturbing rounded rotten appearance, sometimes covered with a crust of baked mud. The rock underneath the crust is fairly good and takes pitons and bolts well. We were surprised to find a crack system on most of the route. The route begins with a 300-foot direct-aid pitch up a vertical buttress to the base of the Finger of Fate, a gendarme which overhangs the route on all sides, This obstacle is surmounted by a very exposed direct-aid traverse to the right and a fissure through the overhang. The next pitch leads to the Duck Walk, a friction traverse on an arete. We bivouacked on a good platform about 30 feet above here. High winds and a drop in temperature gave us a poor night. We reached the summit with two direct-aid leads above the bivouac platform. The summit is a large broken cap of hard sandstone which overhangs the tower on all sides. Some of the rappels are very exposed and require stirrup transfers. The climb is dangerous, but the risk is not unreasonable for climbers with experience on grade-five climbs involving extensive direct aid.
HUNTLEY INGALLS [url="http://www.americanalpineclub.org/AAJO/pdfs/1963/467_usa_aaj1963.pdf#search=%22Kor%22"]AAJ 1963 p481[/url]
From Rock Climbing Desert Rock III by Eric Bjornstad
page 169 "A Brief History of Climbing in the Fisher Towers" by Mike Baker
The Fisher Towers are named for a miner who, in the 1880s, lived near them, working the area in pursuit of mineral riches. Although Fisher surely scrambled among the now-coveted towers, it was 80 years before the first climber took note of them. Huntley Ingalls, while employed by the U.S. Geological Society, gazed at these amazing towers and decided they were way beyond his ability. By the fall of 1961, feeling more confident on sandstone after his success with Layton Kor on Castelton, Ingalls once again returned to the Fishers, this time to reconnoiter possible climbing routes.
Although the rock was coated with mud, it did appear climbable. That winter, on a trip back east, he showed a couple of slides of the Fisher Towers to acquaintances at the National Geographic magazine and, to his surprise, they expressed interest in sponsoring an attempt on the largest of the towers. National Geographic would not only pay money, but would supply one of their photographers, Barry Bishop, to document the adventure. After some persuasion, Kor agreed to make a reconnaissance with Ingalls to the Fisher Towers. By spring the unstoppable Kor had decided that the project was an excellent way to kick off the new climbing season.
Kor and Ingalls reasoned that three climbers would be safer and faster than two, and decided that George Hurley was their man. With Hurley enlisted, the climbing team was off to the desert, with sights set on the summit of the largest tower, later to be known as the Titan. The approach was long, the cracks were coated in petrified mud, the climbing was difficult and almost all of it was artificial. After two days of climbing, with Kor in the lead, the trio had only been able to gain 300 feet, and the most difficult part of the route was yet to come. Somewhat defeated, they left fixed ropes for their return, loaded the car, and drove back to Boulder, Colorado, and their Monday morning jobs. On Thursday, after much anticipation and some anxiety, they were again off to the Fishers. As Ingalls put it, "in the early '60s, speed limits were high and gasoline was cheap."
They had previously arranged to meet Bishop (the photographer) in Grand Junction. Bishop had recently returned from Europe where he had acquired a pair of mechanical ascenders that Kor and Ingalls would use on their fixed lines. This was notable, since it was the first time ascenders were used in the United States. Hurley was slightly more skeptical and went with the tried and true prusiks.
At their high point, Kor again took the lead and continued to work his way up virgin rock. After another day of climbing, the trio discovered a small yet adequate bivi ledge and decided to spend the night instead of returning to the ground. The following day Kor was off on the final pitches. The relatively blank rock required a 70-foot bolt ladder to reach the more solid caprock and finally the summit.
Layton Kor, George Hurley, and Huntley Ingalls summitted the Titan via the Finger of Fate on May 13, 1962. Bishop, having hired a plane for aerial photography, had flown to Moab for fuel. When he returned the team had already summitted and was on its way down. Ingalls wrote an article in the November 1962 National Geographic entitled "We Climbed Utah's Skyscraper Rock." Hurley would return to do the second ascent of the Titan in 1966, and went on to pioneer many routes of the desert, including several on the Mystery Towers. Both Kor and Ingalls moved on to other areas, and neither did any substantial climbing in the Fishers again. With so many other unclimbed towers in the area, this may seem a little strange, but when in 1991 I asked Kor if he would like to join me for a climb in the Fisher Towers he replied, "Why? I've already climbed the Titan."
From 50 Classic Climbs in North America Steve Roper and Allen Steck
38 The Titan
Eroded by wind and storms, the Fisher Towers, near Moab, Utah, prove to be a startling sight to those who seek them out. One must take a half-hour detour from U.S. Highway 160, the main tourist artery of the region, even to glimpse the towers. A rough dirt road traverses the last few miles to a parking area, and from this vantage point half a dozen spires loom like skyscrapers. The first thing a visitor notices, besides the brilliant coloration, is the delicate, curtain like appearance of the Moenkopi sandstone. Every wall is covered with a unique patina of mud over scoured grooves. Nowhere else in the Four Corners area do similar formations occur. What caused these great fluted ripples? The answer is relatively simple: even by desert standards the rock is quite soft, and since the Fisher Towers abut the 12,000-foot-high La Sal Mountains, they receive far more precipitation than do most of the other desert areas. Rain courses down the flanks of the spires, carrying abrasive red mud wit hit, and deep ruts are carved into the weak rock. As the rock dries, the viscous liquid slows until curtains of mud are frozen in place to await the next rains and eventual reduction to piles of red grit at the base of each wall. Wind, too, has contributed considerably to the shaping, for the unsheltered towers are exposed to fierce drafts which in certain seasons sweep the La Sal slopes.
Upon first touching this bizarre rock, the climber is astonished to discover that fingernails can easily gouge the mud which appears to have been laid on by a drunken mason. One can knock off hunks of stone with a strong kick, and even children can pry off flakes. Debris lies in disturbing mounds below the awesome grooves. How is it possible, wonders the prospective climber, to make any headway on this nightmarish rock?
The Titan commanded the attention of the first climbers to visit the area, for it was the tallest spire--900 feet on its downhill side--and it was free-standing, in contrast to some of the area's other spires, which were partially connected to nearby buttes. Layton Kor and Huntley Ingalls were the first climbers to discover the Titan, having spotted it from Castleton Tower, six miles away. On a reconnaissance shortly thereafter, the outlined a possible route on the 650-foot-high northeast side of the monolith. Examining the rock, they found that an inch or so under the dried mud lay much more dependable rock. Still, they realized that even this loose outer shell of stone would pose problems with both man-caused rockfall and the placing of bolts in obvious blank sections.
In the spring of 1962 Kor decided that a desert first ascent might be a marvelous way to begin the climbing season, and he approached Ingalls. Always in need of extra cash, they hatched a clever plan: perhaps they could interest someone in sponsoring the venture. Ingalls queried the National Geographic Society regarding an article about the ascent of the Titan. He knew that for a years the organization had published articles about the hidden canyons and Indian ruins of the Four Corners. Knowing also the Society's growing interest in mountaineering, Ingalls anticipated a positive reply. Word arrived in a few weeks: the Society indeed was interested in publishing such an article and would assign a staff photographer when the time came for the summit push.
Kor and Ingalls next persuaded George Hurley, a mild-mannered English instructor at Colorado University, to accompany them. A party of three, they reasoned, not only would be safer but would allow more exciting photographs to be taken. In early May, having only a weekend available, the three men drove to the rock to establish a high point.
As they roped up on a clear May morning, the climbers all felt that singular combination of emotions peculiar to those who engage in dangerous activities. The challenge was obvious, and the man were excited and curious about what lay ahead. At the same time, however, they were apprehensive, if not fearful. Rational thought suggested that the ascent should progress without incident--after all, they were experienced at what they were doing. But other thoughts intruded, especially in those lonely hours before daybreak: What would happen if the leader pulled off a flake onto those below? What if he ripped out a long string of pitons and smashed into a ledge? Keeping such thoughts to oneself was the rule in the masculine world of rockclimbing, so the talk at the rope-up spot was jocular and laced with obscenities.
Kor and Hurley climbed about 200 feet the first day, slowed by the unfamiliar vertical rock. Since they were able to follow a continuous crack system, few bolts were necessary. Rather than spend the night on a foot-wide ledge, they rappelled to the base at sundown. The following day it was Ingalls' turn to belay Kor, who was to lead the entire route. The aid climbing was unique, and in his article for National Geographic magazine, Ingalls wrote that "sometimes Kor had to probe the caked mud with a long piton or excavate with his hammer to find a crack, showering dust and small rocks down upon me. At times he had to drive a long piton directly into the mud and gingerly trust his weight to it." Progress was slow, and the pair accomplished only two pitches that second day. As he watched the climbers rappel the fixed lines, Hurley reflected that the ropes were strung barely halfway up the tower, an inauspicious start, for it was the upper section which looked toughest. Since the climbers had to return to jobs in Colorado the next day, they left their ropes dangling and planned to return the following weekend.
Accompanying the three climbers on their return drive to the Fisher Towers was National Geographic photographer Barry Bishop, soon to become famous in the mountaineering world as one of the first Americans to climb Everest. Bishop's task on the Titan was to shoot telephotos from the ground and also obtain aerial photographs. The climbers themselves would document the route at close range.
On May 12 all three climbers ascended the fixed ropes to their high point 350 feet above the ground. Kor began work on the next section, which proved to be difficult free climbing up cracks. A short while later the three adventurers were resting on the best ledge on the route. Cold winds had risen, and swirling red dust permeated clothes and equipment. The climbers' eyes were becoming inflamed, but there was little to do about the problem except face away from the gale. Kor led one more pitch in the late afternoon, placing nine aid bolts because of the paucity of cracks. Fortunately, however, the rock on the upper section was far better than the rock below, and even though the summit area bristled with overhangs, it was clear that the route would go. Rather than rappel to the ground 500 feet below, the climbers prepared their bivouac.
The wind remained gusty all night, and the temperature dropped into the thirties. One disadvantage of having the six-foot five Kor along, ruminated Hurley, was that he took up so much room on the bivouac ledge! The ledge, which had looked so spacious in the afternoon, was perceived by dawn as a sloping, lumpy ramp. But all bivouacs do come to an end, and the sun mercifully struck the eastern side of the tower with early warmth.
Kor soon began drilling his way up to the next section--the pitch was another which lacked cracks for pitons--but it wasn't long before he shouted down that he was on easy ground just below the summit. Bishop choose this moment to have his charted plane make a close pass, and for a few seconds the climbers forgot their own precarious position as the plane banked frightfully close to the rock.
By noon the climbers were eating lunch on the mesa-like summit, trying to relax before facing the frightening rappels. Only a few of the rappels were routine; most had pendulums at the bottom or transfers at hanging bolt stations. By dark, three tired men had reached the welcome, flat earth.
Fifty-two expansion bolts had been placed, half for direct aid and half for anchors. Most of the belay stations had three anchor bolts, which may seem overly cautious to climbers unfamiliar with sandstone. But Kor had climbed enough in the Southwest to realize that a few extra minutes of drilling meant a distinct increase in peace of mind.
"We Climbed Utah's Skyscraper Rock" appeared in the November 1962 issue of National Geographic. While written for the layman, Ingalls' article managed to capture much of the flavor experienced by first ascenders on unknown sandstone. Whether the article itself caused a renaissance in desert climbing is not clear, but hundreds of climbers soon ventured to the desert. The Titan route became the most popular of the major desert climbs, even though only about ten ascents were made in the decade following the first ascent.
On the third ascent, three climbers put up with a steady drizzle throughout the upper pitches and the descent. Observing at first hand how the mud curtains were formed, these highly experienced big-wall men practiced extra caution on the descent. It was not until reaching the ground that one of the climbers noticed to his horror that grooves had cut halfway through his rappel carabiners by the abrasive red mud which had been forced against the aluminum by the pressure of the sliding rope. The unusable carabiners now hang in ceremonial display at the climber's house as a reminder of the unexpected dangers of rockclimbing.
The Titan is much more than loose rock, sand in the eyes, shifting pitons, drizzles, and dangerous rappels, however. Anyone who walks in its vicinity will be awed by its multitude of bizarre rock forms, startling colors, and fascinating vegetation. Those who climb the Titan may find the landscape and climbing so different from that found in other areas that the experience becomes distinctly unearthly. Equally dramatic is the contrast between the glaring midday sun and the soft light from a full moon, which renders the region hauntingly beautiful. The convoluted rock casts a network of eerie shadows at such a time, and the howl of the coyote seems eminently appropriate.
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Fluoride
Trad climber
Hollywood, CA
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Nov 19, 2008 - 01:33am PT
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Cool Ed, thanks for posting.
Would love to see the photos Barry Bishop took.
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The Larry
climber
Moab, UT
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Nov 19, 2008 - 02:08am PT
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Ahh gotta love the Fishers. Ingalls was either misquoted or wrong about the type of rock. It is Cutler sandstone. The cap rock is Moenkopi.
Harvey T Carter also had plans to climb the tower. To his dismay Kor and the boys got there right before him. He was going to name it The King Fisher. He had to settle for the second tallest tower, which he name The King Fisher.
One of my favorite climbing areas.
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 19, 2008 - 08:08am PT
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Ed or Don -- I've got the original National Geographic issue, and could scan
it over the next couple of days if someone else hasn't already.
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 19, 2008 - 08:12am PT
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Ahh gotta love the Fishers. Ingalls was either misquoted or wrong about the type of rock.
It is Cutler sandstone. The cap rock is Moenkopi.
Geological confusion might have been more common BITD. There weren't so many visitor
centers and informative signs to set us straight. One of the earliest route names in
Red Rock reflects my own geologically wild guess.
Harvey T Carter also had plans to climb the tower. To his dismay Kor and the
boys got there right before him. He was going to name it The King Fisher. He had
to settle for the second tallest tower, which he name The King Fisher.
Harvey did actually climb the Titan in time, I think he got the 5th ascent. There's a
story about Harvey's 5th ascent that could be told by a member of the 4th ascent party,
who very occasionally posts on this site.
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paganmonkeyboy
climber
mars...it's near nevada...
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Nov 19, 2008 - 10:57am PT
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"Although the rock was coated with mud, it did appear climbable."
best. line. ever...;-) thanks ed !
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handsome B
Gym climber
SL,UT
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Nov 19, 2008 - 12:18pm PT
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The Titan: The Finger of Fate 5.10 A3 *
October 23rd 2005
Brendan: “You wanna climb 30 towers before your 30 years old?”
Scott: “Yeah”
Brendan: “But your like 29, you’ve only done 15 or so, and your moving to Australia in a couple months!”
Scott: “So?”
Brendan: “Whatever. Just get your sh#t together, we’re doing The Titan.”
Scott: “Sweet.”
So here we are again, at the start of another misadventure. The drive to Moab was uneventful and we rolled into the campground at the Fishers around 7pm, drank 2-12 beers apiece and crashed illegally in the parking lot.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
“Who set the bloody alarm?”
Well, as long as I am awake we might as well get moving.
We hike out to the Titan, scrabble around the backside and I take over the first pitch. Fun jamming and free-climbing give way to thin C2 for a rope-stretching 200 feet.
Scott tackles the crux A3 second pitch, nailing once, and short-fixes into pitch 3, again nailing once on the crux A3 move. We decide to fix pitches 1,2&3 and come back tomorrow, seeing as how it was getting close to happy hour back at camp.
Scott on the crux A3 pitch_Looking down the fixed lines
BEEP BEEP BEEP
“Ugh, what happened? Where am I?”
So it appears we had a bit too much to drink. Rolling out of my sleeping bag, I kick Scott awake and we are back at our high point in no time.
Jugging the fixed lines under the moon__Looking out west from Day 1's Highpoint
Self-Portrait while jugging the fixed lines
I swing around the corner and find the C2 roof just below the Finger of Fate.
“Shit!”
I’m up-side-down, looking at 500 feet of air and spitting out red dirt.
“Guess that #2 blew huh?”
“Thanks Scott.”
I climb up to the Finger and give Scott the lead for the offwidth crux free-climbing. Scott blasts up and I take the traverse around “The Duck.” Just imagine slickrock biking with 550 feet of exposure and you will understand the butt-scooting traverse around the “Duck.”
Scott takes on the offwidth___Scott traversing around the "Duck"
Scott takes the A2 seam, but it has some fixed mank and goes clean.
Scott on the A2 seamBomber
I arrive at the belay and promptly begin to shake. The final pitch consists of a “bolt” ladder up a four-foot wide ridge of sand to an overhanging piece of caprock. I clip every conceivable piece of death-mank you could put in a drilled hole, including drilled angles, tent stakes, shoe nails and star-drivens. The true ass-puckering moment comes when you have to free climb the overhanging caprock with 900 feet of exposure on both sides. Nothing I have done on El Cap even comes close.
Looking down the final bolt ladder pitch
I equalize all the star-drivens I can find and Scott jugs.
We jump between boulders on the summit caprock until we are on the true high point.
Scott jugs over the lip of the caprockF*#k star-drivens
Just then a plane comes buzzing by and we see a guy leaning out the window shooting pictures. We laugh until he comes by again and we franticly write down the tail number of the plane.
The plane Boss! The plane!
Scott on the summit
Me
After rapping we drink a few RedBulls and head on home.
Later that week Scott calls the Moab Regional Airport, gives them the tail number of the plane, contacts the pilot and finds out that Joe Slansky was the photographer we saw. I contact Joe and he sends me some of the coolest pictures I have ever seen.
You can see me (in dark coat) taking a picture of the plane
A few months later Scott leaves for Australia.
Man I miss him.
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Logdog
Trad climber
Sierra Nevada
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Nov 19, 2008 - 12:50pm PT
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Unbelievable picture from the air!!! I can't wait to get back to the Fishers!!
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handsome B
Gym climber
SL,UT
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Nov 19, 2008 - 01:26pm PT
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where is the exit point Chris?
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Todd Gordon
Trad climber
Joshua Tree, Cal
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Nov 21, 2008 - 02:33am PT
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Todd Gordon
Trad climber
Joshua Tree, Cal
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Nov 21, 2008 - 02:44am PT
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 21, 2008 - 08:42am PT
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Ron Cox and Jim Dunn hiking in for the 6th ascent of the Titan, 1971.
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 21, 2008 - 07:49pm PT
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"We Climbed Utah's Skyscraper Rock." National Geographic 1962
I inherited this issue from my grandmother, bless her soul.
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Largo
Sport climber
Venice, Ca
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Nov 21, 2008 - 08:56pm PT
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Jeez, that shite looks sketchy! I remember hiking into one of those big mud towers, taking one look at tbhe thing up close, and hiking out.
JL
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 21, 2008 - 09:13pm PT
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 22, 2008 - 07:51am PT
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hoipolloi
climber
A friends backyard with the neighbors wifi
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Nov 22, 2008 - 12:11pm PT
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Where can I get one of those wonderful hats that Kor is wearing?!
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 24, 2008 - 07:56am PT
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 24, 2008 - 09:22am PT
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 24, 2008 - 09:35am PT
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TwistedCrank
climber
Ideeho-dee-do-dah-day
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Nov 24, 2008 - 09:45am PT
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How come nobody any more wears those bitchin' hats like Kor wore?
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Nov 24, 2008 - 12:00pm PT
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This is one of the best threads in a long while. Thanks Ed. And thanks Chiloe for posting up the original NatGeo artical. I remember that article from my impressionable youthdumb. A towering accomplishment.
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 24, 2008 - 12:10pm PT
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Philo, glad ya liked it. This article impressed me way before I knew how to climb.
Still got a few pages to go. Classic summit shots of the team:
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 24, 2008 - 12:11pm PT
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Nov 24, 2008 - 12:15pm PT
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Note, in the caption on page 720, that famous tower is called Castle Rock, not
"Castleton" as climbers have misnamed it. Castleton was the name of a town, which
was named after Castle Rock.
(Department of Lost Causes)
http://pubpages.unh.edu/~lch/climb_01.htm
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Captain...or Skully
Social climber
Where are YOU from?
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Nov 30, 2008 - 04:27pm PT
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The Titan!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Any Rock with a skull is the Groovinest, in my book.
Gracias, Chiloe!!
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Nov 30, 2008 - 04:52pm PT
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One of the most hilarious stories from the recent Kor slideshow had to due with waiting around for Barry to show up for the summit flyby photos. After waiting around for a long while on the summit, Kor and company decided to descend assuming that something had gone wrong with Barry's arrangements. Not long after pulling the first rappel, the drone of an aircraft began to be heard. Soon, a rather animated camera man hung out of the airplane door and began pointing upwards repeatedly. It was Barry, of course, trying to get the FA party to repeat the last pitch so that he could get the shot. An exchange via a variety of novel hand gestures ensued but failed to move the team any higher so down they went!
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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It's cool when forgotten threads like this come around again and I can read them a second or third time.
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Brokedownclimber
Trad climber
Douglas, WY
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The hats were a special"touch," added just for National Geographic. They were Layton's idea. They were supposedly "Tirolean mountaneers hats." In the late 1960s, everyone was emulating Herman Buhl. Yeah, I was too. The Austrian and Italian rock climbing heroes were the real "rock stars." Hurley didn't wear one--only Layton and Huntley did.
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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In the late 1960s, everyone was emulating Herman Buhl. Yeah, I was too.
I never knew that explained the hats! By the time my friends & I hit the Titan in '71, we had wool balaclavas more like Dougal Haston.
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reddirt
climber
PNW
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Jul 31, 2011 - 01:07pm PT
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bump again
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philo
Trad climber
Somewhere halfway over the rainbow
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Jul 31, 2011 - 01:13pm PT
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Hoipoloi, those hats were all the rage after that Nat Geo article. They were called "Crusher" hats because you could crush them and stuff them in a pocket. They were felted wool and pretty cool.
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crunch
Social climber
CO
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Feb 14, 2014 - 04:05pm PT
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They were called "Crusher" hats
Really? Hahahaha!
Layton and Huntley told me they actually worked real well on the Titan, kept the dust out of their eyes.
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Feb 14, 2014 - 04:23pm PT
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Whoah, cool to see this old thread on the front page again briefly. Brings back the old sense of ST as an archive for stories, some never written before.
Are there new ST threads still making archives, or is it like Tarbuster suggested a while back -- folks used up all their old slides and stories?
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nature
climber
Boulder, CO
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Feb 14, 2014 - 04:24pm PT
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depends on what you mean by "old" ;)
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Feb 16, 2014 - 03:44pm PT
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This climb marked the first use of Jumars on a climb of record in North America. Corbet had a pair which Layton and Huntley promptly put into service while a skeptical Hurley stuck to his prusik slings.
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Toker Villain
Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
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Feb 16, 2014 - 06:22pm PT
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One of my prize possessions is the issue of NG of the Titan with an inscription from Huntley to me. Layton signed it too and, though I have corresponded with George, I neglected to bring it to Boulder when I saw him last June.
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The Larry
climber
Moab, UT
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Feb 16, 2014 - 06:51pm PT
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Yeah! Great thread.
Hey Chiloe, maybe you could share some stories from your ascent.
After one failed attempt long ago, I've yet to go back. Maybe this year.
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Feb 16, 2014 - 07:38pm PT
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Hey Chiloe, maybe you could share some stories from your ascent. Our Titan climb makes a brief appearance along with some other early-70s Moab adventures in this personal tale I wrote a while back. As a Moabian you might get a kick....
The town of Eldorado Springs was home to a close-knit community of five climbers in the fall of 1970. When I first moved into town, and joined their circle, it felt as if I had dropped in on a family -- albeit, one of the free-form and unrelated families that were flourishing around Boulder in those days. Paul Sibley opened the door by inviting me to stay in the attic of his unfinished house, until I could find something better. Something better appeared soon in the form of an opportunity to share the Rocky Rest, a tiny stone cabin, with Ron Cox for $25 a month rent. That became my home for the next two years. Much of my social life involved the five-climber community; besides Cox and Sibley, they were Margaret "Yum Yum" Durrance (daughter of Jack Durrance, of Tetons and Devil's Tower fame), Julie Clements and Bill Roos. Many of our conversations involved climbing. Sibley and Roos had made the third ascent of the Titan, and told stories about the unearthly spires around Moab. On the wall hung a photo from their 1969 first ascent of Ancient Art's corkscrew summit. During one winter-evening conversation, Roos drew my attention to a topographic map of Canyonlands, pointing out the steep contours of unclimbed Candlestick Tower. Fixated on El Cap, for which I was then getting ready, I noted Candlestick as a more distant goal.... http://pubpages.unh.edu/~lch/climb_07.htm
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The Larry
climber
Moab, UT
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Feb 16, 2014 - 09:05pm PT
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Awesome! Thanks for the link!
1/2 of Team Larry on the Three Penguins. Arches NP
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Smokey
Trad climber
Colorado
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Feb 16, 2014 - 09:07pm PT
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I had dinner with Huntley on Christmas eve 2013 in Hygiene CO (we ate potato latkes), and he related an interesting "fun fact" about the Fishers: Just before his big-deal climb of the Titan with Kor et al, the very first "real" climber to touch rock in the Fishers was Colorado's own Gerry Roach. Gerry started up a pitch on the Titan, realized it was total choss, and promptly retreated. And so marked the first climber to ever touch Fishers rock.
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Brokedownclimber
Trad climber
Douglas, WY
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Feb 16, 2014 - 11:50pm PT
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I was only a climber with 2 years under my belt in the Summer of 1961, but became involved with Layton and Huntley's Glenwood Canyon "Mud Wall" project. How? I had a reliable car with room for 4 people plus gear. So...I was recruited to be a support team member and hump gear to the base of the climb, drive over there to Glenwood (before I-70 existed!), and take some pictures of the epic. They prussiked up to a previous high point established several weeks earlier by Layton and Bob Lagrange (my usual climbing partner). Sue Jones was also recruited to help, and we both had Advanced Red Cross skills to help load the body bags if anything bad happened. Quite predictably the climb was terminated after a giant block the size of a freight car groaned and shifted as Kor was nailing around the right edge into a dihedral. It scared the living schitt out of everyone. On the way home Kor was beside himself, so as a consolation we did the Northcutt-Carter the following day to wash away the bad taste of Glenwood Canyon.
After we returned to Boulder and met Huntley in the Sink where the conversation was steered to doing the Titan. Several recon trips followed, but I was opted out by leaving for Army Basic Training in September. I was still in the U.S. when they pulled off the climb in 1962, but the Army had other plans for me involving a possible trip to Cuba to deal with Fidel. I would have loved being able to participate, since Huntley really had a way of hyping climbs he wanted to do.
Missed a chance of a lifetime because of Uncle.
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crunch
Social climber
CO
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Feb 17, 2014 - 12:07am PT
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Nice, Brokedown!
Great stories.
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