The High Sierra - The Incredible Hulk

The Red Dihedral

(3rd in a series of posts about my 2012 trip to the High Sierra)

And so we busted a move up to the Sawtooths, a tiny little subrange of peaks (no, not those sawtooths)

We didn't climb any of those, but we climbed one behind.

The cheeseburgers were looking at us.

The sun was so pretty driving in, I just kept taking pictures.

We camped in the weird campground at the trailhead to the Incredible Hulk.  Its a really weird campground.  In the morning on the way to the Hulk I got legitimately very (very) lost wandering around the campground in the predawn darkness looking for the shitters.  In the end, I never found them, but when I finally found my way back to the campsite, Neale was pissed.

We did almost the entire hike in in the dark.  This is in the morning near the base of the peak.

Neale got serious about starting the climb.

I was wearing shorts, but that was dumb, because it was really cold.

The famous Red Dihedral pitch.  Neale did something really unusual on this pitch, which was struggle.

I thought it was pretty hard, too.

After that, the climbing got fun and cruisy.

In this photo there are two women (look closely) that we said hi to during the approach.  They were so unfriendly that I thought for sure they must be bigshot awesome climbers.  I tried to give them a second chance by hollering enthusiastic nonsense across the wall, but they ignored me.  I think this portion of the wall holds mostly easier climbs, and they were still on this route after we had nearly finished the descent, and lost sight of them.  So, in addition to being lame people, I believe they were also lame climbers.  

Not to be deterred, Neale insisted on sending that shit.  His goal is that splitter on the wall above.

I parked myself on a beautiful, comfy belay ledge, finally warm in the sun.

The route finishes with this awful squeeze through this horrible hole.  Any smaller, and I wouldn't have fit.

Its a round peg through a square hole, but it had to go, so I forced it.

SUCCESS!

hulky.

The descent is really lame.  Very big, very loose blocks.  Ankle danger was extreme.

Me, looking around for how to downclimb this surprisingly challenging looking step.

Then Neale figured out the secret - there was a passage under the boulder.

Long, loose, and lame.

Striking, isn't he?

Walking back to the campground.

The High Sierra - Tuolumne Meadows - Mathes' Crest

(2nd in a series of posts about my 2012 trip to the High Sierra)

We finally got good at starting early. 

If you were god, and you were making a lake, you'd make Budd Lake.  Would't ya?

How much more fucking idyllic can you get, seriously.

Mathes' Crest, in all its glory.  We did it the usual way, South to North, which in this photo is right to left.  Its about a mile.

What's not obvious in this photo is that I am heroically running it out up a steep and exposed fin of rock.  What is obvious is that I have a big ass.

The posing options were exceptional.

A soloist that caught up to us at the end.  Supertopo says to bail at the halfway mark, but this is nonsense.  The section of climbing that this guy has just completed, the Rock Wave, is fucking phenomenal, and you'd miss it if you do as Supertopo says.

I should admit to something.  In spite of my usual bravado about sending and crushing, this first week in the Sierras was getting the best of me.  The whole area is above 8000 feet, and a lot of the summits are 9 to 12 thousand.  I don't do well with altitude, and I was struggling on the approaches, often feeling weak and slow, and occasionally stopping just a few minutes into my predawn hike to puke.  I tended to feel more worn out halfway through the day than it seemed like I should, and often wanted to end the days early.  Usually Neale and I destroy Supertopo's approach times, but there were a couple of times where we were even slower than the slow-end range (which was my fault).  It wasn't until about halfway into the trip that we began to demolish guidebook approach times in fine style.  The altitude made no noticeable difference to the climbing, since most of the climbing we did was pretty easy and rock climbing is not particularly aerobic, but the hiking was brutal.

All that said, on this particular day we planned to do Mathes' Crest and Cathedral Peak.  Normally, I think, this would be a very reasonable goal, but hiking out of Mathes', I wasn't into it.

Cathedral Peak

The Dirtbag Diaries

I wrote an essay for The Dirtbag Diaries, which was based on a combination of two old blog posts about the time I spent in Ecuador; one about the subtle difficulty of trying to convince someone that the place that they're from is special, and another about building a shepherd's shack in the mountains, and the importance of a little bit of perspective.

This is my first time being published pretty much anywhere besides my own blog, so I'm pretty excited about it.  Hopefully this will become something that I'll do more of.

(In the podcast I make reference to some photos from camera traps.  Here they are on Round River's blog.)

Without further ado, here is the link:
http://dirtbagdiaries.com/the-shorts-don-manuel-s-nails

The view from Rumi Loma

The High Sierra - Tuolumne Meadows

(this was originally one exceptionally long post about the entire trip (over 200 photos!) which I have since broken up into 6 posts to make it easier to read).

My compromise on moving back to Fairbanks, which has no satisfying rock climbing, is that I will take trips.

So Neale and I went to the Sierras, and we fucking sent that shit.

Of course, this photo is from the end of the trip.  It took weeks to get that tan.

During last fall's Desert Trip, Neale and I plotted against the High Sierra.  After a summer of waffling and refusing to commit for very good reasons related to home construction, I acknowledged that rock climbing is fun, and that we should go.  Neale, as usual, was on board for sending.

I flew to Tucson, where the Subee lives.  This is my dad's neighborhood, which is filled with White People.  It was July, and during the day there was not a sign of life, apart from the occasional Acura SUV driving by.  You could have filmed a post-apocalyptic movie in the streets without asking the neighbors to cooperate.

Some flowers were hanging tough, though.

This is immediately behind my dad's house.  I believe its the same rock as Mt. Lemmon, so it oughta be pretty good.

I spent a couple of days hanging out with my dad, then pointed the Subee in the direction of another adventure, and blasted across the desert in a car with no air conditioning on my way to pick up Neale in Las Vegas.  Note the engine temperature gauge in the lower left.

South Crack, Stately Pleasure Dome

Yada yada yada, we arrived in Tuolomne, and cragged.  This is Half Dome from the top of our first dome, Stately Pleasure Dome. Neale was ready to get on Half Dome the next day, but I insisted that it will wait for another trip. It will go down, though.

Hiking near Mt. Conness

Then we hiked into Mt. Conness, getting a late start, and got lost.

Regular Route, Fairview Dome

Then we had in mind to climb the Regular Route on Fairview Dome, but didn't get going until sorta late.  It has a well-earned reputation for being fearsomely crowded, and so we kinda forgot about it.  But as we drove by, Neale said "wait, that's the parking for Fairview!  There are no cars!" So we walked up to the base at 11am, saw no one on the route, and sent that shit.  This is me following the first pitch, a pretty tough 5.9.

Neale following the second pitch, which I also thought was slippery and tough for 5.8.  Another party started just after us, but we courteously left them in the dust, as we do.

After the second pitch, the route kicks back and gets easy.

There was one point, high on the route, where I was leading as we simul-climbed.  Though I am typically a thoughtful and cautious climber, I have my moments of getting summit fever.  I was leading on totally fun Choose Your Own Adventure climbing, where everywhere was good and every slab had a crack and every topout was a jug.  Then I went right at one point, and wandered around looking for something.  Everything was disappointingly slabby.  But everything had been so good, so I optimistically launched myself onto a boulder problem, CERTAIN that once I mantled onto it there would be a hold.  I was about 50 feet above my last piece of gear, and there were no holds.  I had committed myself to a blank slab.

Now, I don't have any health insurance.  I bought travel insurance which has health insurance, but the travel insurance specifically denies "high altitude mountaineering".  Obviously, to you and me, Fairview Dome is not high-altitude mountaineering, but by the time the lawyers finished arguing over it I figured it would be almost moot.

"If I fall right now, that will be financial ruin."  

I started shaking.  I cursed myself for allowing that thought in my head.  I realized that I couldn't do the slab moves above me, and I spent a moment composing myself, then carefully downclimbed.  I climbed way down to find the proper route, then belayed.  Whenever summit fever gets the best of me, I force myself to belay as my punishment.

No heroic summit photo.  I don't know what's wrong with me.  The walkoff of Fairview is really cool, down a slab that is just barely low angle enough to walk down.

Then we went to Mathes' Crest (which I made a separate post about)

West Ridge of Conness, Take 2

It tended to be cold in the mornings.

This time we got the approach right.  The West Ridge, Peter Croft's favorite 5.6, is in profile.

On route.

No heroic summit photo.  We were too sleepy.

Regular Route, Third Pillar of Dana

Moonscape on the Dana Plateau.

The abrupt edge of the Dana Plateau - the edge of the High Sierra.  Below this it drops thousands of feet to Mono Lake and the desert.

The Third Pillar.

The climbing was absolutely top notch.

And the views hold their own.  No, the clouds are not photoshopped.

This was one of the only climbs where we had to wait.  There were two parties in front of us, and the first party was a bit slow.  Neale is feigning cheerfulness in this photo - he actually wanted to throw the other climbers off the mountain, which was unfair, because they were very nice people.

Neale sends the crux.  It was the second-hardest climbing we did on the whole trip, at a relatively mild 5.10b.

Me, following.  This pitch was really, really, really good.

It finished with overhanging but very easy climbing with nothing but air underneath you.

I fake all sorts of shit on this blog.  In some ways, this blog is nothing but lies.  But I cannot fake that smile.  The climbing was out of this world.

On the summit, packing up the ropes with Mono Lake in the background.  Photo by one of the parties in front of us (taken with an iPhone, can you believe that?)

We sent that shit.  Neale is all business.

The summit of Mt. Dana in the background, which is the high point of Yosemite National Park at 13-something thousand feet.

Mono Lake Rest Day (and driving)

Mono Lake.

Oz on Drug Dome to Hobbit Book

I had an MRE that my uncle had given me, which came in handy at one of the walk in campsites.  Chris and Neale, both being Canadian, were desperately curious.  Our opinion flies in the face of common wisdom, which is to say that we thought it wasn't half bad.

The top of the first pitch of Oz, on Drug Dome.  Neale led it in fine style, as he does.  It was 5.10+ face climbing.  Its possible that I'm a better and more enthusiastic figure skater than face climber.  Chris led the next pitch, a blockbuster 10c corner.  I took a lot of video in hopes that he would whip, but all he does is simper and whine.

Chris, a lonely Vancouverite we saw in Lee Vining that we adopted for this climb.  

On Hobbit Book.  "Alright, Stolzie, I know you think you're pretty cool, but if we're gonna simul-climb, you're going to wear rock shoes and a helmet."

Heroically leading the crux pitch of Hobbit Book.

Top of the last pitch of Hobbit Book.

Summit photo in the waning light on top of Whatever It Is Dome.

South Face of Cathedral Peak

The West Ridge of Conness as seen from the approach to Cathdral Peak.

We climbed the South Face of Cathedral so fast that the camera shutter couldn't capture it.  But after we sent that shit, we also sent the nearby Eichorn Pinnacle (coolest 5.4 ever invented), and paused on top long enough to allow the camera to capture a pose.  Me on the summit.

Then I belayed Neale up, and we posed together.

Then I rapped off, and Neale posed.

And we strolled out of Yosemite, job well done.