Trip ReportYosemite and Smith Rock May 2017
The asteroid has hit. Climbers Planet has tilted.
In my long time climbing I have seen how the rising tide lifts all boats. And I've ridden out the occasional tsunami. This one’s a really really Big Event.
Wonder and amazement and a kind of gratitude for having the possible revised, once more.
Speaking of water, I like it well enough. But it should stay for the most part in oceans, lakes, rivers, and camel-backs. It should come down in the mountains as snow and slowly melt, and not form vast gradually condensing vapors that hide the sun.
A friend wanted to go to Yosemite. It would be his first visit.
We are driving out of San Francisco during rush hour. We exit the highway and Sierra tells me that Siri has noticed congestion ahead and is taking us around it.
I see a character and clamp the reflex to take a photo.
We get back to the highway. Siri cheerfully tells us that we have saved 18 minutes.
THANKS A LOT, SIRI! You could’ve killed us. Next time use some of that knowledge base to check out the neighborhood you send us through.
Sierra wanted to know why films often show the climbers starting off across the meadow towards El Cap when it is not approached that way. Actually, he knew it was because it looks better that way. I wish that could also explain these shots.
We find how to get there.
Different day, different face.
A good place to be a lizard.
Our rope stuck briefly on the first rap. We may have got a hand from above thanks to these guys, or maybe they were standing on our rope for a moment.
I don’t know. You tell me.
Friends who met on a High School golf team. “It was the first thing we were any good at.”
This was their 10th anniversary visit to the Valley. Very fun to meet them and share the site.
He said the trip exceeded his most optimistic expectations. I can say the same for me.
Sierra sat through traffic on the way back to San Francisco.
Robert and I rested and then drove north.
I knocked off a hand-sized flake. I yelled RAAAWWWK!
The people directly below did not look up until the flake hit near them.
I decided I should try a warning a non-climber might understand better. Maybe, “Look out below!”
Leading the next pitch Robert knocked off a bigger flake. I found out after-the-fact that I automatically yell Rock! and that Look Out Below! can’t be delivered at the same volume or speed. I also found out after-the-fact that no one was below, that time.
We met El Llamero Vagabundo on a sort-of almost blind date.
He climbed well and we all escaped unhurt.
It was a good time for snakes. I saw three.
Among other instants of the brief beauty of life.
Recent Trip Reports