SAC Attack on the Third Pillar of Dana!

Over fish tacos and beer at the Mobil Station in Lee Vining, we found out that three Stanford Alpine Club (SAC) teams were going to attempt the Third Pillar of Dana. Kind of strange that all three groups decided to do the Third Pillar on the same day.

Since Eu-Jin and I aren't the speediest of climbers, we elected to get an early start. After saying good night to the rest of the Stanford folks, we headed to the secret bivy spot and laid out our sleeping bags. I'm always a bit anxious before a big climb so I spent a lot of the night tossing and turning before falling asleep.

The next morning, my eyes popped open and I scanned the sky, still pitch black -- I could see the outline of my Camry against the bright moonlit sky and Orion's belt twinkled from between the trees. Not a cloud in sight. Checking my watch, I saw that it was 4:14am, one minute before our appointed wake up time. I closed my eyes for a few moments, waiting for the alarm to begin beeping. We got up, groggily packed our gear, and started the drive up to Tioga Lake and the start of our day.

We grabbed our packs, the rope, and the gear from the trunk before wolfing down some Clif bars. We started hiking the approach by headlamp at 5am, tripping over the rocks and roots of the rough trail. Steadily we ascended the inky darkness towards the Dana Plateau, leaving the lake behind. Light began the fill the sky as dawn broke and we found ourselves in a strange place. The Dana Plateau is littered with small boulders that the wind, snow, and rain have carved into rounded shapes and dramatic fins.

The breaking light drew into sharp relief the objective of our day's trip: the Third Pillar of Dana, a dramatic fin of rack that juts out prominently, dominating the skyline of the Sierra Crest. We began the descent towards the base on shattered blocks. One thing led to another and before we knew it, we realized we had gone down too far. We lost an hour fighting our way back up the steep scree and talus. So much for early starts -- that mistake pushed us back a lot. We made it to the base of the climb and began racking up when we saw Alex, Tanya, and Warren picking their way down the correct slope. They arrived just as I was starting the first pitch.

Right away the climb got my attention. The altitude does strange things to your endurance. Just sitting still, you feel strong, like you were at sea level. But exerting any amount of effort quickly sapped my energy; even the easy scrambling at the end of the first pitch left me winded and panting for breath.

The second pitch was the crux for me --- "flared 10a fingers" was the description in the guide and it felt tenuous and greasy, like my fingers would pop out of the crack at any moment. I placed a piece ... then another .. before reaching the relative security of a wide crack higher up. Normally, I hate wide cracks but I welcomed this one! A few awkward moves of thrashing in the crack ended the pitch. After that, the climbing went well -- it was fun and interesting and there were a few thought provoking sections where I had to wait for a bit to figure out the moves.

Amazingly, as I was finishing the second pitch, I saw Cory, Laura, and George charging out of the first pitch. They were climbing incredibly fast and would finish right behind us despite leaving the car three hours later than we did.

Cory caught up with us by taking a variation and we met at the last belay ledge. Cory graciously offered to let me lead the last pitch -- by then I was feeling really beat. The combined effects of altitude and leading the previous four pitches had left me with just enough energy -- I hoped -- to reach the top! George and Laura joined Cory and before long the entire SAC crowd was hanging out on the ledge, watching me as I struggled to make the moves on the last pitch.

Feeling tired and fighting arm cramps, I slowly and deliberately picked my way through the last pitch. I almost fell at the 10b lieback but I managed to hop down to a lower ledge before committing to the moves. Hanging out right below the top, I placed a few pieces before firing all the way. Pulling myself over the edge was a great feeling -- it was an amazing pitch, high up with a beautiful pitch. Alex later described it as "the best granite pitch I've done."

The Third Pillar is truly a unique climb -- its position right on the edge of the crest gives it a unique and magnificent view of the desert floor below. I'm glad I was able to climb it and in the company of great friends and a great partner!

Captions (All pictures from Eu-Jin's camera):
1 - Me on the Dana Plateau. It's windy up here!
2 - Eu-Jin on the plateau
3 - Descending towards the base of the Third Pillar
4 - Contemplating the drop-off and finding a route down
5 - Looking up at the route
6 - Warren finishing the first pitch
7 - George on a perch at the top of pitch 4
8 - Cory leading the last pitch with the Stanford crew hanging out on the spacious ledge
9 - Standing on the diving board after ascending
10 - Cory and George at the top
11 - Eu-Jin and I at the top -- all smiles after a tough climb!
12 - Alex approaching the exit moves
13 - Alex: Maybe the best granite pitch he's ever done
14 - Warren approaching the top
15 - Group shot -- Stanford Alpine Club on top
16 - George and I descending back down
17 - Eu-Jin and I
18 - Laura, Cory, George, and I descending
19 - Overview of the day's travels

North Ridge of Mt. Conness

Passing through Tuolumne Meadows was just too much of a temptation, so Kim and I decided to knock off the North Ridge of Mt. Conness on our way back from Deep Springs. Life's demands --- thesis, research, and work --- had prevented me from getting out for most of the summer and I wasn't feeling in great shape. Kim was also nursing a sore shoulder, given to her by a careless driver who decided to run his pickup through a stop sign, knocking her to the ground. Despite her doctor's warning to "take it easy", Kim's not likely to follow that advice; the last time we went to the meadows, she climbed all day on a swollen ankle (injured, ironically, while walking in a climbing gym), easily flashing 5.10 face climbs.

We left Deep Springs as the last of the day's light was leaking over the Sierra crest, speeding up the 395 towards Lee Vining. Arriving at the secret bivy spot behind the Mobil gas station, we were surprised that nobody else had claimed the best patch of dirt underneath the big pine. The next morning, Kim woke me --- we had overslept our alarm! We grabbed all of our stuff, threw it into the car, and sped up towards Tioga Pass, arriving at the Sawmill campground to begin our hike up towards Conness at 6:13am.

The hike was beautiful, gradually ascending a valley gouged by the passage of a glacier eons ago. The glacier had long retreated up the mountain to the highest cirque, leaving behind a series of lush meadows and alpine lakes fed by its remains --- today, the Conness glacier barely covers a few football fields and the next few years of rising temperatures will continue its gradual erosion. Skirting high above the last lake, we gained the top of the ridge and began following it as it wound its way, like a snake, up towards the summit. As we approached the ridge, its bulk and sheltered us from the wind, but now as we strode on top, we were exposed to strong gusts which knocked as off balance and sent us teetering like drunks. We made good time, scrambling unroped up towards the second tower in our sneakers before rappelling down the other side.

But something wasn't right after the rappel --- the terrain roughly matched the description in the guide, but the angle was all wrong. Instead of easing off, as the guide book promised, the angle of the ramp below us steepened before descending out of view. I put on my climbing shoes and headed down, trying to scope an exit off the ramp to the easier ground rising to our right. I shot a wary eye towards the gravel that was strewn like so many ball-bearings on the ramp. It didn't take too long for my feet to skate, and I hung, motionless for a moment before bear-hugging a block in front of me. "Probably not the right way," I called back up to Kim before heading back up.

After a while, we figured that we hadn't rappelled far enough, and so we set up another intermediate rappel before reaching easier ground, wasting a lot of time. It was a strange experience to climb so much terrain unroped, with your partner so close at hand. Climbing, for the most part, is pretty solitary since one person stays behind to secure the belay while the leader forges ahead.

Freed from the demands of gear and a rope, we wandered back and forth over the face, finding the easiest way up, squeezing through chimneys and climbing through blocks of shattered rock. Finally, one last move and we were standing on top of flat ground, the summit block just in front of us.

Captions:

1. Kim with Mt. Conness in the distance. The north ridge ascends the right hand skyline towards the summit.
2. Panorama of the north ridge from the beginning of the route. The route winds its way through two sub-peaks (termed the first- and second-tower) before ending at the summit
3. Kim starting up the ridge
4. Kim with the Conness Lakes in the background
5. Kim scrambling through
6. At the first tower, approaching the second tower
7. Approaching the second tower
8. Kim on the summit
9. Kim signing the register
10. "I love the alpine like I love loose women." You never know what you'll find in the register
11. Panoramic from the top of the lower part of the route
12. Overview of the trip

Tuolumne Meadows June 20-21

This trip happened last month but I thought I'd post up a few pictures that Eu-Jin took.

Day 1 - Lembert Dome: Crying Time Again (5.10a) + Direct Northwest Face (5.10c)

Began the day with a leisurely drive from the Evergreen road bivy spot to the Sierra High Country. Decided to head to a familiar favorite: Lembert Dome. The routes on this formation are absolutely classic. Eu-Jin and I started on Crying Time Again (5.10a). It was my third time on the route and it never fails to dissapoint -- just a joy to pick your way through the steep and knobby cruxes on this route. Unfortunately, I also forgot that Crying Time again doesn't get sun until the mid morning. I didn't bring a jacket or windbreaker and by the 2nd pitch, I was shivering pretty hard and my feet were completely numb, making my feet skate all over the place.

After completing Crying Time Again, we went back to the car for some lunch. The weather wasn't looking great so we decided to wait and see if it would start raining. It didn't so we headed out to do Direct Northwest Face (5.10c). I was a bit nervous about this climb. A few years ago I had led the bottom pitches, letting George lead the crux finger crack on pitch 3. I remember the crack being very difficult and I fell while cleaning the nut the protected the crux moves. And the fact that my friend Wendy had fallen off the runout exit slab, separating her shoulder and rolling off the ledge, cemented this route's reputation in my mind.

The route went pretty well. I hesitated a bit on the lower 5.9 pin scar cruxes (a bit harder than I remembered). I set up a belay below the crux finger crack, and psyched myself up. Heading up, I placed a nut to protect the moves, twisted my fingers into the crack, and just motored through (easier than I expected). I reached the piton, clipped it, and let out a whoop. Cory and Laura, watching below, laughed up at me. The exit slab was thought-provoking (climbing above a ledge with nasty fall potential will do that) but it was pretty mellow. I think the moves are pretty height dependent.

Best climbing of the day award goes to Cory and Laura. In about the time it took for Eu-Jin and I to finish one climb (Crying Time Again), Cory and Laura finished two climbs (Northwest Books (5.6) and Direct Northwest Face) and were heading up Crying Time Again for their Lembert Dome Trifecta.

Day 2 - East Cottage Dome: Knobvious (5.10c), Mystery Route (5.10d), Knobnoxious (5.10d), Orange Plasma (5.11a)

The next day began with a nice breakfast and some coffee at the Mobil Station. We wanted to avoid the crowds of people that tend to form around routes in the Supertopo books, so we decided on East Cottage Dome. Pulling into the turnoff we spotted a familiar Stanford alumni license plate on a Subaru Outaback. Hiking through the woods, we caught up to Wendy and Justin and spent an enjoyable day climbing the steep East Cottage dome wall.

Photo Captions (all photos by Eu-Jin Goh)
1. Gearing up in the Lembert parking lot
2. Heading up Direct Northwest Face (5.10c)
3. Heading down after a day's climbing
4. The only picture Eu-Jin would allow me to post ..
5. Consulting the topo. This wasn't staged. I swear!
6. Wendy leading Knobulator (5.10c)
7. Getting psyched!
8. Justin's psyched too!
9. Leading Knobulator
10. Candidate for asianposes.com?
11. Beautiful shot of Cory leading Orange Plasma (5.11a)

Alpinists Jonny Copp and Micah Dash lost along with filmmaker Wade Johnson

Was saddened to hear that Jonny Copp, Micah Dash, and their filmmaker Wade Johnson were lost in an apparent avalanche while attempting an unclimbed route on Mt. Edgar in the Sichuan province of China. I didn't know these guys personally, only following them through climbing films and print articles but their exploits always served as a source of inspiration. The closest to either of them I ever got was seeing Micah giving a wonderful slide show when he swung through Stanford.

One thing that strikes me about these guys was their unquestioned passion for climbing and their humility. Unlike the top athletes in other professional sports, Micah and Jonny pursued climbing out of an overriding passion to see what was around the next corner. They certainly didn't do it for the financial rewards. Like most professional climbers, they were probably lucky to scrape a modest living together confronting some of the most dangerous conditions in the world.

Inevitably after a tragedy such as this, armchair alpinists emerge from the woodwork to question the motivations of those who've died. Micah and Jonny have been called reckless and foolhardy --- one internet pundit even called them "selfish". Though they can't speak from themselves, perhaps it's best that they explain themselves in their own words. These two videos probably do the best job exploring why they did what they did, in their own words.

"Longway" by Jonny Copp

Excerpt from "The Sharp End", produced by Wade Johnson

Trip Report: South By Southwest, Hotline, EPIC!

As many of you know, my climbing partner Justin and I epiced on our trip to Yosemite a few weeks ago. Here's a trip report for that weekend. Pictures are all from Justin's camera.

Day 1: Justin and I met up with Cory and Laura at the rockpiles bivy outside of Yosemite on the 140. Our objective for the day was "South by Southwest", a classic 5.11a that ascends to the summit of Lower Cathedral Spire. Depending on how fast we moved, we were also thinking about running up "Braille Book" (5.8) on Higher Cathedral rock.

South By Southwest, first climbed by the late Walt Shipley and Keith Reynolds in 1993, is a beautiful and exposed route to the an aesthetic summit. The first two pitch is forgettable, but you quickly get to the business: a short 5.10d finger crack to an exposed hanging belay, followed by a wonderful 5.11a traverse. Protection is super solid and the climbing is great. Cory and Laura climbed ahead of us and Cory did an amazing job making the 5.10d and 5.11a sections look effortless. Justin also did a great job leading the stout and tiring moves right off of the belay before crusing through the 5.11a underclinging section. I'm always amazed at how easy the people I climb with make things look!

The four of us gained th summit with impressive views of El Capitan and the rest of Yosemite Valley. It's a great little summit and well worth the effort. On the way down, we decided not to go for Braille Book. It was hot, and the hike up the approach gully had really drained us --- a dip in the cool, snow-melt fed waters of the Merced seemed more and more enjoyable. On the way to the bridge, we bumped into a friendly bear and met a guy who had just soloed the Muir wall -- impressive!

We then made our way for beer and pizza at the Curry pizza deck -- a great way to end a nice day of climbing. Over pizza, Justin convinced me to give Hotline (5.12a) a try. I was somewha anxious, but he assured me that we could easily aid through the hard stuff. Plus, the third pitch is reputed to be the best 5.10 handcrack in all of Yosemite Valley --- even Ron Kauk has called Hotline the definition of classic. It was hard to pass up!

Day 2: After a cup of coffee and breakfast at Degnan's, we headed up to the valley rim on Highway towards Hotline on Elephant rock. Ordinarily, Hotline is approached by crossing the Merced river. However, during peak snowmelt, the river is hard / impossible to cross so the recommended approach starts from the valley rim and heads down a steep canyon towards the river. The approach was heinous, like skiing down a steep slope where every step sent showers of dirt and pebbles downhill. To top it all off, poison oak was everywhere!

The climb itself was beautiful. Justin made short work of the difficult and strenous fingercrack crux of the first pitch. When I followed him, it felt a lot harder than "5.10c." The next pitch is the hardest part of the climb -- 5.11d fingers, followed by a 5.12a traverse. Since neither of us was strong enough to climb it free, Justin aided through it. I was pretty impressed at how easy he made it look! I made a feeble attempt to follow the pitch free but eventually resorted to pulling on gear and tension-traversing through the 5.12 section.

The third pitch was amazing -- a 150 foot handcrack that seemed to go on forever. No wonder it's such a classic! Justin was gracious enough to give me the lead and I was happy to lead through this amazing crack. I then flailed my way up the next 5.9 section --  I definitely need to improve on my wide crack technique. Thankfully Justin, master of the old-school, burly, and wide cracks that characterize Yosemite climbing was there to give me pointers, patiently waiting as I groveled up the crack. The last 5.9 pitch was Justin's and he easily floated. We then rapped the route, arriving at our packs at around 2pm.

Here's the first fateful decision that eventually led to our epic and forced bivouac. Having gone through the poison oak once, we somehow formulated a crackpot plan. Instead of going back uphill the way we came, we'd head down towards the river. Our plan was simple: we'd try and find a place to cross and hitchhike back to our car which was at the valley rim. If we couldn't find a place to cross, we'd just keep going until we hit the bridge some 3 miles away. One way or the other, we'd get across and hitch a ride back. At the time, the plan seemed reasonable. Our belays high up on Hotline had given us a commanding view of the river and we spied a few places where the river widened into calm pools.

We started down and arrived at the Merced pretty quickly. Unfortunately, the 'calm' pools that we thought we had seen from the belay were actually raging with snowmelt. Undiscouraged, we started hiking towards the bridge. Unfortunately, our path was choked with poison oak, thicker than we had passed through on the way down. Our 'plan' was quickly unravelling. After negotiating the rough, poison-oak choked terrain on the riverbank, we came a place where the river split into three streams, flowing around several small islands.

The first stream wasn't too bad and Justin swam across pretty easily. We set up a Tyrolean traverse between the island and the bank, shuttling our gear across. At this point, we were all very optimistic. The flow wasn't really that bad, and we were confident that we could negotiate the other two. We quickly packed up our gear, and started wading through the second crossing. Unfortunately, the flow on the far side of the island was strong. After much deliberation, we decided that it was foolhardy to attempt a crossing, especially as darkness was falling and we were soaked from wading and swimming in the river. The section of river was no more than 40 feet across.

Given the circumstances, we thought it best to bivy on the island. It was our first forced bivy and we spent it huddled in the dirt next to a fire we had built to stave off the cold. I spent the night with my legs stuffed into my backpack and one of our ropes for a pillow. Not the best of circumstances, but we made the best of it. The most maddening thing was listening to traffic on the far side of the river all night long -- the road was literally 100 yards away.

Day 3: We woke up the next day eager to get out of there and back to civilization. We knew that people were expecting us and that they'd probably be worried. We swam back across the river and began walking towards the bridge. Unfortuntely, the rugged terrain was so steep that we couldn't pass through. Swallowing our pride, we realized that we would have to hike back the way we came. Our shortcut has cost us an entire day.

We reluctantly started back, even trying to cross the river once more at another point. Eventually, we were resigned to the long hike back up. I was thirsty beyond belief. The 90 degree temperatures, lack of water and food, were beginning to take their toll. Desperate, I filled up my Nalgene with water from the Merced and drank it. The risk of contracting giardia was worth it if it kept me going. Justin did without. We ate the last of our trail mix (our only food) and hiked back up.

Arriving at our car, we found a note from the Yosemite Search and Rescue (YOSAR) --- we had been reported missing and overdue. We drove back down to the Valley floor, stopped off. I ran into the shop and bought two scoops of ice cream and 2 liters of gatorade. We called YOSAR and told them that we were all right before calling our friends to tell them that we were safe.

A stop by Taqueria El Agave in Oakland, our traditional post-climbing stop, finished off a somewhat-longer than expected weekend.

Aside: This experience made us realize how lucky we are to have friends that care -- as soon as Justin and I were overdue, they sprung into action, calling around, figuring out what climb we were on, notifying the search and rescue squad, and working to find out where we were. We later found out that YOSAR had sent some people down the gully to see if they could find us. Having not found us, they were on the verge of initiating a much larger and wider search before we called them. Thanks to them, and the great community of Stanford friends who were all worried --- sorry for that! =)

1. Cory leading on South By Southwest (5.11a)
2. Admiring the view on the summit of Lower Cathedral Spire
3. Justin and I
4. Laura and I
5. A small brown bear by the El Cap bridge
6. Can't beat taking a bath in the river ..
7. Justin aiding through the 5.11d + 5.12a section of Hotline
8. The best 5.10 handcrack in the Valley!
9. Justin leading the last 5.9 pitch
10. The Merced, raging from snowmelt. Not calm at all!
11. Vince does not like poison oak
12. Justin negotiating the first crossing
13. Success!
14. Shuttling gear across via a Tyrolean traverse
15. Can we make it across? My smile seems optimistic!
16. Back at the car, safe and sound
17. The island in front of the tower was our home for the night

Polly on Sacherer Cracker

Dean Potter Solos El Capitan

This is an old video that's been floating around for awhile but I
remember being blown away after watching it for the first time. A
bunch of my climbing buddies have seen it too and we'll jokingly
repeat some of Dean's lines as we climb our much-less-crazy climbs. To
give you an idea of how crazy this is, consider that most parties take
around 2-4 days on that route. I think he did it in 5 or 6 hours.
Crazy!
 

Redemption on the Nabisco Wall: A Yosemite Trip Report

Having been away from Yosemite for the better part of three months,
busy with school work and side projects, I was pretty excited to
return. I was especially curious to see if my time spent bouldering
and climbing indoors would translate to increased fitness and ability
on real climbs. I was also keen to participate in an aid climbing
clinic offered by the Stanford Alpine Club. I'd always considered my
lack of aid climbing skills to be a major deficiency; on my ascent of
Half Dome last year, I pretty much left all of the aid climbing to
Chris and Justin and wasn't able to contribute much during those
sections.
 
My original plan for the weekend was to learn aiding on Saturday and
then spend Sunday trying some harder cracks; my ultimate goal for the
weekend was to lead "Five and Dime," a 5.10d crack whose supertopo
description reads:

A climb so good they named a whole cliff after it. This stout 5.10d tests your jamming ability at a variety of sizes. The crux is hanging around to place gear on the steep wall. If you can lead this, you have mastered Valley 5.10.

 
However, the night before, we realized that the aid climbing workshop
would seriously cut into our time and so we hastily decided to do Five
and Dime first thing on Saturday morning before the workshop. I was a
bit anxious --- 5.10d isn't much of a warmup and it was harder than
anything I had ever done --- but I had rehearsed the moves previously
on toprope and decided to go for it. The lower section was tricky. I
hesitated for a bit at a cam placement in a slight flare, but
eventually pushed through to the business: 10 feet of burly finger
crack to a long, pumpy section of hands and off-hands crack. Once in
the tough section, I relaxed considerably and was able to fire through
without much difficulty, though the relentless jamming definitely left
me drained by the top!
 
Chris toproped the climb before leaving to meet up with the people
driving up for the workshop and Cory led the climb without much
difficulty. A stuck #2 camalot gave me a bit of a headache -- I had to
rappel down to it and fish around for awhile with my nut tool before
freeing it. I ran back up to the road and then we drove down the Pat
and Jack Pinnacle. Cory and Chris were great teachers, showing us all
of the tricks of the aid climbing trade, but there was no substitute
for practice.
 
I roped up and started awkwardly leading up "The Tube", a thin 5.11a
lieback crack. The traversing crack left me off-balance and hopelessly
tangled in my aiders. Eventually the crack pinched down to near
nothing; luckily Chris had a never-ending selection of small gear.
Periodically through the hour and a half lead, he'd send up
ever-smaller aliens for me to place. Three moves of 'harder' aid (a
cam hook, half of a black alien cam, and another cam hook) and a few
easier aid moves brought me to an impasse.
 
I was about eight feet from the top, standing on a cam hook, when the
crack petered out. The piece below was a questionable offset alien
that I wasn't sure would hold a fall. Without any placements, I tried
to see if I could make a few free climbing moves to gain the top. I
snaked my left foot up on a knob and stepped up. Of course, when I did
so, my cam hook immediately jangled out of the crack -- I had
forgotten that cam hooks don't stay in without constant pressure!
 
I let out a stream curses and felt stupid for not wearing my climbing
shoes; instead, my running shoes were now skating around on the knob.
Realizing that the hook was still attached to my aider, I reeled it
in, only to discover I had pulled up the wrong aider. Pulling up the
other aider, I spent a few seconds trying to finagle it into the
crack, with no luck. Finally, I just decided to pull the last moves
--- better to try and fight through the last moves than give up and
take a fall on questionable gear! Feet bicycling furiously on smears
and knobs, I heaved myself onto the ledge in classic 'beached whale'
style --- no points for smoothness here. Chris, of course, was
laughing the whole time. I had to see his point: I had narrowly
avoided a fall on what should have been easy 5.8!
 
We spent the rest of the day toproping the tube; I took a hang at the
crux moves -- an insecure lieback-cum-gaston move that left me
panting. Cory, of course, floated the climb --- his ability to cruise
routes is matched only by my ability to lie, cheat, and thrash my way
up. By then, it was getting dark, so all of us headed to the Pizza
Deck where we downed beers and split pizzas. Paul's girlfriend even
sent up a cake for Paul's birthday.
 
The next morning, we decided on a late start. We took our time
breaking camp, cruised into the Ahwahnee hotel for free coffee before
heading over to the Cookie Cliff. (As a bit of history, the Cookie ---
one of the best crags at Yosemite --- was where I had an accident last
year and sprained my ankle. I fell off of Wheat Thin when I botched a
clip; because of this, I've always felt I had 'unfinished' business
with the climb)
 
We started off on Outer Limits (5.10b) and climb that promptly
destroyed me. It's long and unrelenting and burly and awkward in that
way that only Yosemite cracks can be. Seems like the almighty,
whatever his powers, could not have been distracted to make perfect
splitters anywhere in Yosemite! :) I ended up taking one hang, right
under the final section. Cory and Chris both toproped the climb, then
"Crack A Go-Go" (5.11c).
 
After lowering, I wasn't really sure if I could climb Wheat Thin.
Outer LImits had wrecked me, and we still had to climb Beverly's
Tower, a stout 5.10a, just to get to the base of Wheat Thin. Cory said
no problem, that he'd lead it. Cory led Bev's Tower cleanly and
confidently, and before we knew it, we were at the base of Wheat Thin.
At this point, I changed my mind. I think I knew that if I didn't
confront my fears and anxieties about the route, I'd never return.
Drinking some water, and resting on the ledge made me feel a bit
better.
 
I got my gear together and started up. While the climb didn't feel any
better this time -- my feet blew out a few times on the tenuous
lieback moves up to the first bolt --- I did protect the climb better
this time. I was confident that even if I did fall, I wouldn't go on
the same ride I did the last time, when I clipped a ledge and sprained
my ankle. By the time I got to the top, I was totally gassed, but had
done the climb without falling; apparently, gym climbing doesn't help
much with climbing outdoors! But importantly, I had gotten back on the
horse.
 
We finished the day with a quick toprope up Butterballs (5.11c) before
heading to the El Agave for good mexican and beers. All in all, a
great weekend, with two great partners who patiently taught me how to
aid, put up with all of my crazy neuroses about various climbs and my
overall slow, awkward, and flailing climbing style.
 
Pictures:
1 - Me leading Five and Dime (5.10d)
2 - Chris toproping Five and Dime
3 - Cory on The Tube (5.11a)
4 - Me, making a "I've got to squeeze a monster turd" face on the Tube

Eulogy for Alpinist Magazine

Eu-jin called me last night and informed me of the demise of Alpinist
Magazine ( http://www.alpinist.com ), the best (in my opinion)
climbing magazine. Makes me sad to know to see them fall victim to the
financial meltdown. I suppose they couldn't get enough credit to
sustain their cash flow for operating costs.

In many ways, the Alpinist was never going to be a financial success.
Catering to a very small niche of traditionally-minded climbers in a
sport that is increasingly dominated by commercialized interests,
Alpinist was always just a long shot, a quixotic shot-in-the-dark in a
landscape of magazines catering to the "extreme sports crowd" spawned
by the proliferation of climbing gyms and their attendant attitudes.
Losing Alpinist means losing a window into a world of herculean feats
and super-human accomplishments, often performed by regular people
looking to push their boundaries in the great mountain ranges of the
world. But more than simple reporting, losing Alpinist means losing a
connection to the past, to tradition, to the shared tradition that all
climbers have.

Alpinist's last issue was a dedicated to El Capitan, from its earliest
ascents by the pioneers of big wall climbing to the current era.
Recently, we were lucky enough to have shared an evening with Tom
Frost, Ron Kauk, and Glen Denny --- climbers who opened up great
possibilities on El Cap's towering walls. I was lucky enough to have
each of them sign my Alpinist #25. For that, I'm gratetful.

(Eu-jin's signed copy of Alpinist #25)

fun weekend in tahoe

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Christopher McGuinness
Date: Tue, Sep 16, 2008 at 12:30 PM
Subject: fun weekend in tahoe
To: Sharon Houck , Justin Brockman
, mattyama@stanford.edu, vincent chu
, Kimberly Yee


Hey guys,
Here's a summary of what we did last weekend, for those that have work
they would like to avoid.

Saturday (The Leap)
Relatively early start with Vince, springing out of bed shortly after
the birds. Munched down some breakfast, consisting of canned fruit
for me, mmmmm, so good. We packed up and headed over to the lower
buttress. We started off on Surrealistic Direct, with Vince
spearheading this idea. I was a bit intimidated as I haven't lead
much 10a, and no 10b before. I also fell while TR'ing this route a
few weeks ago. But the pro is great, so what the hell. Vince starts
off, with numb feet after wearing sandals all morning. His feet skate
around a bit on the small features he's trying to smear on.
Eventually he gets up the somewhat awkward left side in hand
jam/forearm jam crack. He does the 10a (I think) traverse over the
right crack system going through the roof. After a few dicey moves,
and a couple good pieces of pro, he down climbs back to the good feet
stance and shakes out a bit. Up to this point he seems a bit jittery
and a little scared, all very warrented as this is not an easy climb.
But at this point he summons the spry crux firing juicies and blasts
through the roof without a moments hesitation. I was totally
impressed. Clean lead through and through, and an impressive vetran
move to put some pro, down climb for a rest, and fire the crux. Kim
goes to follow him, but is weighed down by the bag, and the fact that
she is trying to layback/face climb the first section, turning a 5.9
crack into an 11a face climb. She ditches the bag and cruises up
after this.

I jump on, work up the crack without much trouble. At the top of the
crack you can either traverse right, and go over the 10b roof, as
Vince did, or stay left to a 10b lieback. I decide to go left, but
get spooked with the 10b lieback, and don't see how to get from there
back over the right crack. I'm sure a couple face moves above the lb
would have solved this, but I chicken out and tension traverse over
the the right crack. I try the roof, end up hanging, and eventually
get up it. Not a very clean lead.... Oh well. Matt follows with the
pack carrying all our water (3L). He struggles a bit on the roof but
gets through with some heavy grunting and cursing. People down below
are cheering him on, and I'm calling him our mule.

We finish up the rest of Surrealistic Pillar and hike up to the main
ledge in pursuit of hospital corner. Vince had done this climb a
while ago, so he offers me first lead. I go for it, and love it the
whole way. It warms up with an easy blocky pitch to get to the start
of the second pitch. The second pitch is where the money's at. Great
stances to stick in pro into a crack that just sucks it up, fire a
couple moves with some good stems, good finger locks, and the
occasional hand jam to the next good stance to put in pro. Perfect
climb for someone pushing 10a. Matt works it, with more grunts and
heavy breathing, but makes it up clean! Awesome job! Vince has no
problem either, and Kim works it pretty well. Her jamming skills are
still in the works so one spot gives he a little trouble, but only
briefly.

This has taken us a bit of time, and its getting late in the day. Our
water is out, as we've consoladated to one bag. Matt and I decided to
go for Corrigation Corner, so Matt can get a little experience leading
the first pitch. We start up around 5:30 I think, not too worried
about the setting sun. Fortunately Vince gives us the one headlamp in
the pack, the others were left in the other pack at the base of
surrealistic. We start up, taking it slower than I was expecting. I
forgot how delicate this climb is. Its 5.7, but exposed and balancy
in some spots. I was expecting to be able to just run up most of it,
but find myself slowly working upwards or sideways. The arete on
pitch 2, and right traverse on pitch three were particularly delicate.
I get to the top just as its getting dark. Matt has the headlamp and
wips it out to finish off the last pitch. We work our way down the
decent sharing the light from the headlamp, and get to the main trail
just as we realize its 8:55, and I thought Strawberry lodge closed at
9. We start booking it down the trail, throw our shit in the truck
and beeling for stawberry lodge, getting there at 9:05. I thought we
were doomed, but was pleasantly surprised when the older guy there
told us they close at 9:30 on Fridays and Saturdays!

Sunday, Sugar loaf
I wanted to work on aid climbing, and give Matt some experience with
it, so we decided to cruise over to Sugar loaf to check out Grand
Illusion, 5.13 A1. Beautiful finger crack under a 135deg angled roof.
We start off a bit late and are pounded by sun on the way up the
trail. There is absolutely nobody around for miles. It looks like
the forest in the near vacinity was burned recently, maybe in the
forest fires from several months ago, so there is a desolate, sun
baking ominous vibe to this place. I'm looking around for the
vultures and dead carcasses at this point. I decide to start off with
wide looking 10a crack to get to the base of Grand Illusion. Half way
up I totally regret aiding this as its a very awkward aid climb, hot,
and not very good pro at the top. This would have been an easy free
climb for the most part, but we were there to get some aid practice,
so I keep going. Matt also struggles following this and is huffing
and puffing by the time he gets up. He says this took 1-1.5 hrs for
me to lead, but it felt much slower, and I'm concerned my aid skills
are too slow for the nose. From here we head over to grand illusion.
This thing is beautiful. It starts off deep in this alcove, and works
its way out overlooking a steep exposed drop. I start up and just
cruise it. Its perfect for aiding, just sucking in the cams, steep
enough that you can hang easily by the gear while using the side wall
to balance against while stepping up. green and yellow aliens are key
for the entire second half. I use two of each and back clean them a
few times even. I left as much pro as possible for Matt, which turned
out to work well. Matt went for it, a little apprehensive as he
hadn't ever aided before, or jugged up a overhanging traversing route
before. He took a few heart pumping swings when unclipping some of
the gear. By the end he seemed to be enjoying it and was fearless
releasing the cams holding him into the rock. We finish this towards
the afternoon, and decide to call it a day. I was feeling a bit
better about my aiding skills after this climb, as it went much faster
than the first. Nose, here we come!





-- Vincent Chu
Department of Applied Physics
Geballe Laboratory of Advanced Materials
McCullough Bldg. 318
476 Lomita Mall
Stanford, CA, 94305

vchu AT post.harvard.edu
vincentchu AT gmail.com

http://www.stanford.edu/~vincentc (homepage, updated sporadically)

Consider this:
"The smallest positive integer not definable in under eleven words."