El Cap / Half Dome Link Up Trip Report
|
Hey Everyone ( who reads this ),
And here is where our shit-show begins. I had felt good in the legs but the overall body fatigue was setting in, also a heavy dose of drowsiness from the lack of sleep was making it a tiresome affair to stay positive and keep eating and drinking. It was knowing that sugar is fuel and fuel makes you go up that handfuls of raisins where going down my mouth and a yearning for the banana smoothie I left in the boystown kitchen in my rushed wall transition was rolling in my head. Jugging became a blur of dark granite as I would gas it up the long pitches seemingly blinking and arriving at a another belay. This was disorienting enough, add on the long time since doing the route and this equals that my mental topo blew away in a green haze in the year since. The light on my headlamp is unusually dim. How is Jesse feeling? Just keep going. Keep going. On the fourth pitch, there is a bolt ladder that I somehow had trouble doing, feeling pretty pathetic of my slow movement as I feel I always do with aid-climbing. Excitement re-arose when I managed to get into the right-leaning crack that ensues, where I quickly returned to autopilot, free-climbing the rest of the pitch with only a single piece of pro. The next pitch is a 5.9 and no protection was left behind, just a nice straight fixed line for Jesse to Jug. With this second wind, I was hoping to carry the momentum until the end. Then it went dark. A moment of shock ran through my veins as I became blinded by darkness. The batteries on my headlamp had just run out. I was in the gully leading up to the Robbins' Traverse when this occurred. It was almost pitch black with a bit of starlight casting some sort of light to "direct my way". I could not notice the color of my cams or the footholds or crack sizes. Were they hand cracks? Finger cracks? Everything went dark. What color were my cams? My mind was confused and trying to grasp the reality of the situation. At this moment I was beginning to worry how this would affect Jesse and I as I couldnt see a thing. I was now blind and now in the middle of the easiest pitch, at least when you can see. An unfortunate situation had presented itself... Where are the feet? Where are the hand cracks? What cam am I grabbing for? How is Jesse feeling? Where the fuck are the feet, the holds? It would take time for my eyes to adjust as much as they possibly could, feeling blindly for cracks, for feet, trying my hardest to be accepting and simply adjusting to the circumstance. Denial. Its ok, we still got it. Unaccepting of reality. This is not a big deal The climbing was far from fluid anymore. It was sloppy, blind and nerves had begun to creep their way in. I would have to feel the darkness to find a jam. Reaching the anchor on pitch 10, I was looking very hard for the grigri and feeling around the disorganization of my gear to find it. Finally feeling our go-to belay device, putting Jesse on-belay proved to have much uncertainty in the process. Starlight was not even enough to make me feel super secure about putting Jesse on-belay. The state of denial was slowly paving the way to the acceptance of reality... I was blinded by darkness. This is not safe. This is dangerous. During this moment, many thoughts ran through my head and the only sound I could hear is Jesse breathing as he climbs to me and the sound of metal jingling along his side. A million thoughts would enter my mind during the short time it takes Jesse to reach me. Time would stand still momentarily as I would stare into Yosemite Valley as I am perched on a ledge 3,000 feet above the valley floor and another 1,000 feet of climbing to go. My eyes were fixated at the illuminating lights that were shining from within Yosemite Village, my body chilled by the slight breeze brushing against it, my mind was beginning to accept the conundrum that would eventually slow all momentum of our ascent. As if thoughts were finally able to enter my mind now that I have taken a moment to think everything else up to this point, climbing had been on autopilot. This cant be happening. Absolutely ridiculous... I was becoming angry at myself... This is dangerous. I cant see a thing. I continue to hear the sound of metal jingling and the heavy breathing demonstrative of Jesses ongoing resilience. Ever the determined fighter, Jesse was climbing closer to the end of the pitch, yet my mind had felt like the breaks of our momentum had suddenly been put on halt, continually turning my head toward the next hundred feet of climbing to see the darkness that loomed ahead. It was a mental break, a sudden halt of momentum to an otherwise irrefutable calamity. At the same time, accepting the reality had proven to be incredibly difficult. Jesse reaches the anchor and I ask him to take the sharp end through the Chimneys. Jesse is appeared to be full of life and energy as we organize the rack, now that I have light to do so using his headlamp. His abundance of contagious energy attempts to re-ignite the flame that had been smothered by the heavy ashes of my unfortunate predicament. Jesse re-racks and heads up the first set of Chimneys. I am once again sitting in darkness overlooking the lights of Yosemite Village, somehow feeling completely alone for the first time. It was midnight. A sudden and continuous pause of rope being fed through the device and my thoughts pause momentarily as I become curious as to the next series of events that are unfolding. I hear Jesse asking... Is this ( such and such ) the way? I don't know how to tell you from down here," were the exchange of words between us. I could not make out what was going on. All I see is the light from the headlamp swaying left and right, evidence of a lost climber. It was evident to me that Jesse had no idea where he was going. Even his incredible tenacity and unwavering mental strength cant replace ones knowledge of the route. Later I found out that Jesse had only done this route one time and a year ago. That momentum hit hard, was regained and was hit even harder. As I followed, I tried to free-climb on Jesses fixed line while self-belaying on a jumar, I was unsure of all gear I was pulling out, questioning whether I was leaving behind our own gear or whether I had reached the many fixed pieces that were in abundance on this climb. I could not tell. The rope became consistently caught in cracks where I would have to rappel back down and get the rope-unstuck time and again. It was dark, it was impossible to see, to organize or even know what I was doing. As I climbed I was continuing to feel around for cracks to put hand-jams in or fingerlocks in. Pulling on the unknown, blindly, desperation and frustration increasing slowly with every inch of progress. The calm and determined state of focus I have had to this point was now turning into impatience, anger and frustration WHO does this?, I began to ask myself while climbing sloppy and with terrible technique. The darkness seemed to be throwing more hurdles our way. Stuck ropes again, and again, and again... I do not recall how often I had to rappel to continuously get ropes unstuck, or how often I thought I had left gear behind, climbing hesitantly under the impression that I was leaving all that beautiful gear. I recall exactly the level of frustration and discomfort I had, the sudden irrelevance of time in my mind and the tremendous need of light I never imagined I would ever have, coming only at a time when blindly climbing your second Big Wall in a day and in the middle of the night without being able to see. The thousands of nerves and desperate emotions, fortunately, were only during the six or seven pitches, a short block of climbing, but the time it took to complete them felt an eternity. It is 2 a.m. I reach Jesse who is laying down. Did I take that long? 2 hours to climb three pitches? I shook my head in disbelief. I imagined Jesse was asleep on a tiny ledge a few feet above the anchor. I recall hearing a mumble but I felt no rush in trying to wake up my climbing partner, who I had imagined was sleeping heavily. Climbing in the darkness and seeing my beloved friend asleep easily helped make the decision for me to relax, stare out into the dark abyss and look down toward the tiny lights of Yosemite Village. It was a battle between my heart and mind, with the former wanting to carry on but the latter knowing that continuing in the dark would continue to prove challenging. The momentum had stopped to a halt. And so I curl up...telling myself that it would be easier to just wait for the sun to come up ...and so I wait At that moment, I lay curled on a tiny ledge in the middle of a giant 2,000 ft. wall, precariously curled up in a ball and overlooking the valley, I recall thinking of my climbing students back home at this very moment, comfortably sleeping in their beds, resting to wake up early morning to make it to school the next day. Munching on their Coco Puffs and Fruity Pebbles as they make haste to arrive on-time to their first period class. Oh the life of routine and relative comfort and here Jesse and I are, high up on a giant wall in the middle of the night. Oh the life of the adventurous rock-climber. Despite the last painstakingly few hours of night-climbing without a headlamp, I was very much in awe at the reality of the situation and everything completed the previous 23 hours. Despite the allure adn reality of this amazing adventure, there was a hint of bitterness against the sun for taking its time to rise beyond the horizon. My mind was overwhelmed by what Jesse and I are doing and why. Would my new climbing partners back home understand when I explain to them the feelings of amazement/disbelief/discomfort/excitement that I was feeling after everything that has transpired to this point, as I lay curled in a futile attempt to try and sleep? Would anyone at home believe me or even understand? How can I tell my co-workers, other teachers, and my principal of the surreal experience Jesse and I have lived through, and in a manner that may offer some sort of perspective on the reality of the situation? The feeling is incomprehensible as I, to this day, attempt to comprehend all that took place during these 28 hours. What Jesse and I are experiencing is proudly shared by a very exclusive minority of climbers whom we always viewed as possessing an incredible mental will to push their bodies as much as possible, in an attempt to complete these ridiculous climbing objectives. Climbing walls so big that the human mind can barely grasp the suffering required, yet alone comprehend what it entails to complete. I repeatedly asked myself, Why do we do this? Only to answer my own question by telling myself, Because it makes you live. I continue to stare out...recalling slightly fading in and out of sleep while my body shivered in the cool breeze that flowed...not sure if I was ever sleeping...staring out into the night sky at those moments when I consciously knew I was awake, trying to capture the image of thousands of luminescent stars shining brightly in the sky, knowing that I would never see them quite like this at home. It was during this moment of deep transcendence when I heard a faint whistle. There was a moment of uncertainty as to the authenticity of the sound, as to whether it was real or not, just as I was not sure if I was ever sleeping. I was simultaneously asking the sun when it would begin to rise over the horizon to provide the light I very much needed to light our way to the summit. Hurry up, sun. Moments later I hear the whistle again, presumably coming from Jesse who is also curled up on a ledge 15 feet above me. As I maintained my curled position with my arms crossed under my armpits in an attempt to stay warm, I continuously roll back and forth and then over to my side, facing away from the wall and once again back onto the lights of Yosemite Valley. Time felt as it had stood still. Jesse continues his faint whistling. It was perhaps the strangest moment of the whole experience because of my own inability to decipher whether the noise was a byproduct of hallucinations or whether it was real. I hear the whistle again . Jesse?, I asked, almost hoping that he wouldnt hear me in an effort to prolong my rest period. Yeah, dude. You up?, Jesse replied. Its a signal to get up and hesitantly, I do just that, struggling mightily, somehow convinced that laying curled up would be more comfortable than moving in my element, moving freely over the rock. As I stand up in the darkness with Jesse downclimbing with his headlamp on, my mind was still trying to process the situation we were in. It was time to continue moving. As Jesse begins to help me organize gear, the sound of and the touch of cold metal stimulating the senses, my partner hands me his headlamp. Man, did it feel great to see again. A quick re-rack and I lead the Double cracks pitch with a faint light, placing only 2 pieces of protection, feeling joyous at being given the gift of sight once again but knowing full-well that the momentum that had carried us here ended. I also felt guilt knowing Jesse was now climbing in the dark. It was futile by this point to try to cilmb for speed, instead, the motive was just to finish and climb pressure-free. It was 3:45 a.m. We reach the zig-zag pitches and meet two climbers from Southern California who, unknowingly at the time as I was leading the first of the zig-zag pitches, got Jesse to float above the clouds. This, during my now carefree, tired and joy-filled romp to the top. It is 4:20 a.m. 24 hours have passed. The next two pitches were climbed in the dark with the sun slowly rising behind us. Life has been brought back to us. It was truly amazing to see how much life has been brought by the beckoning of the sun upon our skin. Jesse and I reach Thank-God Ledge, where to my shock and surprise, discovered Jesse undressing himself, becoming the first person in the history of climbing to really ever free-solo Half-Dome. First Naked "Free-solo" on Half Dome He wormed across Thank-God Ledge as he led the pitch and I casually followed, trying to enjoy what seemed like my last time up Half-Dome for the summer. We topped out at 9 a.m. and were greeted with a jubilee of exuberant tourists. Taking pictures with, answering questions and educating them on the uses of climbing gear. Approximately 28 hours later we finish. As I looked at my surprisingly energetic partner, I could not help but realize that we both indeed climbed El Capitan and then climbed Half-Dome right after. I felt a sense of jubilation, of triumph and of extreme pride. It wasnt under 24 hours but considering the circumstance, none of us cared. The idea of climbing two big walls back-to-back was an idea that neither of us had ever thought possible when we first started to climb. We were gym rats, blending into the multitude of boulderers and sport-climbers within our beloved and cherished southern california climbing community. But the idea of climbing El Capitan AND THEN Half-Dome right after is something that is still sinking in. Dude...we just climbed the link-up", Jesse told me as we looked at the view that each hiker and climber are rewarded with at the top. I was super proud of Jesse because it was the resilience and unwavering strength of his mind that brought him to the summit of both these walls. In the world of big-walling, the mind is much more prevalent than your free-climbing ability. He was taught to trad climb 2 years before and only a short while after I learned how to trad climb. Heck, I was proud of both of us. When I laid on the floor, munching on a chicken teriyaki burger from Mcdonalds that a tourist had given me, I chuckled because my students were probably in their second period class, struggling to stay awake. Climbing in the dark is no fun but finishing felt so amazing! I laughed at the idea because here Jesse and I were, having climbed over 5,000 vertical feet, hiked several miles and with many more hours of hiking to go, having been awake for about 30 hours and we both felt great and energetic but incredibly thirsty and hungry. If someday I can open their eyes to the kind of adventures and kind of inspiration traveling, exploring, venturing into the outdoors and living a life of adventure brings, a life-achievement would be fulfilled. We were feed an abundance of food from tourists, given loads of water and gatorade and received a hearty congratulations from almost everyone we saw on our way down the backside of Half-Dome. When asked what we had done, people would tease themselves and cringe because they are at the culmination of their 5 hour hike. Tourists greeted us after we finished. :) Jesse and I were in no rush to make it to the bottom. In fact, I had insisted that we relax and restore as much fuel to our bodies by eating what we possibly could from the treasure cove of food that was given to us. A quick power nap or two and we both descended down to the valley floor via the death slabs. Boy was it hot. Upon reaching the bottom, many friends greeting us wherever we went and gave hugs, high-fives, spoke with us about how they were inspired by what we had done. It was emotional more for the warm reception that we received upon our arrival. We were both given some special words but these ones stood out the for me personally. "You guys made me stop giving a shit about the petty stuff. You guys made me realize I need to get shit done." Aaron Pugh, a dear friend was quoted as saying when we did The Porch Swing during my last week in Yosemite. Aaron, like myself, sustained fatal injuries and is making great gains in recovery. He definitely is "getting shit done." :) The amazing Aaron Pugh, enjoying a beautiful sunset atop Cathedral Peak. DUUUUUUUDE thats insane!!! El cap and Half dome two of the greatest climbs wow you're insanely awesome. I shake my head to think a guy like you isn't sponsored. The three most inspiring climbing partners Ive had in my life are Jesse Ray, Andrew Vaughn and Lucy Brito, whom this quote is from. She unknowingly inspired me the night before the link-up with news of her vast improvements and strong mind back at home. It was always special and awesome to watch her and see for myself and others the potential she has. Later in December, upon finishing Levitation 29 in Red Rocks, I remember telling her " a sponsorship could never give me a Lucy or Steven ( another climbing pupil of mine.)" Lucy Brito reviewing prior lessons on Moonlight Buttress in Zion. "Alain has a way of dragging people into these things. I just wanted to do NIAD and also do Half Dome in a day car-to-car. We managed to do both,", Jesse says to friends at the valley floor with an impeccable smile. Back home, Jesse and I had spoken on the phone. Thanks for believing in me. In the end, I calculated that we were both awake for 42 hours straight. I led 41 of the 56 pitches. If anything, I am more psyched than ever to do it again. And I know for a fact , with better preparation, it can go hours faster. So I say goodnight to Jesse as we gave a warm and congratulatory embrace and went our seperate ways. I laid down on my bed, setting my alarm for 5 a.m. to get ready for work the next morning. I looked up at the ceiling of my tent and trying to go over what just transpired until my eyes closed and I feel asleep. We just climbed the Link-Up. |
|
Nice read Alain. Congrats again. hopefully I can get my lazy butt to start training some more do even try a big wall |
|
Good job! |
|
Thanks, Jan! Just do a lot of mileage at the Quarry. I thought that helped me log in some miles in Yosemite. Just skip all the no-hands rests there. |
|
Thanks, Jan! Just do a lot of mileage at the Quarry. I thought that helped me log in some miles in Yosemite. Just skip all the no-hands rests there. |
|
This was rad, thank you for sharing. |
|
I made an anchor on the ledge and just held on to it while I stripped. It was the part that I was most careful on ha-ha, and the embarrassement of plummetting to my death naked kept me on. Best worst idea ever. Also Alain took a bunch more pics of my junk but only got to upload that one then lost my phone with all the others on cathedral peak somewhere. Somebody had to have found that phone... |
|
Alain, I didn't make a trip report, but my climbing partner did: |
|
Colin, even if that video was short, it was still fun to watch. Chesnes expression on Half Dome was awesome. So proud of both of you, even if this may have been a while ago. I hope more people try the link-up, it's alot of suffering sure, but from my impression from the skills of valley dwellers, more people should be able to do this. I hope at least. |
|
Awesome! I'm training and aspiring to NIAD, hopefully sub 12 hours. If you have any suggestions not covered by Hans' book I'd love to hear them |
|
Dude, that's one of the raddest trip report I have ever read. I started climbing recently but the NIAD is definitely one of my dream send. Definitely got me psyched to train. |
|
JeffL wrote:Awesome! I'm training and aspiring to NIAD, hopefully sub 12 hours. If you have any suggestions not covered by Hans' book I'd love to hear themShort fix. Use large blocks. Good places to change are Dolt Tower, Camp IV, and Camp VI. Don't clip the bolt in Texas Flake Chimney. This allows you to flick the rope outside the chimney and jug it. Use the "free" variation to the grey bands (p19 in supertopo). It's challenging but far, far faster than the original way. I used a few extra tactics: my feet were nearly the same size as my buddy's. We brought one pair of approach shoes - the jugger used the approach shoes, the leader used their own rock shoes. For the descent each of us got 1 approach shoe. Makes it feel like a true "team" effort. Simul-climb the bolt ladders. |
|
JeffL wrote:Awesome! I'm training and aspiring to NIAD, hopefully sub 12 hours. If you have any suggestions not covered by Hans' book I'd love to hear themColin is right. Short-fixing is the way to go, not clipping the bolt in the Texas Chimney and simul-climbing the bolt ladders. If I would have done things differently though, would be to rehearse and memorize those first four pitches a lot. After the link-up, a friend and I completed each pitch in 6-7 minutes, reaching Sickle Ledge in 25-28 minutes, having worked each pitch over and over and not in a single go, just adding the time up. Also, simul-climbing Sickle Ledge to the Stovelegs is something my partner and I did too. The leader puts a red cam before the anchors and clips a draw to the anchors as the second is following, then you go ahead and weight the rope and as the second gets pulled up, the leader swings over to the 5.6 blocky climbing. Fun stuff. I also think I would have used more blocks. Also, get your aid climbing DOWN!!!!! I went terribly slow on the Boot Flake, Glowering Spot and the final bolt ladder. Bring a lot of small pieces and micro-offsets. Pforien, thank you so much. It was fun writing it as it helped re-live those moments. Just work a lot of mileage, I was never a project kind of guy and just did a lot of mileage over the 5-6 years I was climbing to get to this point. You better believe that you are just as capable of doing the NIAD too. Just ask a lot of questions and be consistent with learning and training. :) Cheers. |
|
Thanks for the additional beta. I hope to not hijack your thread, but... |
|
Alain Aleksandro De la Tejera wrote: I went terribly slow on the Boot Flake, Glowering Spot and the final bolt ladder.People who screw up the Glowering Spot hit the ledge and break their ankles. So it's not the end of the world if you take a few extra minutes on that pitch. JeffL wrote: Would you prefer a 60m over a 70m? Also, do you go with a fatty rope like 9.8 or even fatter? Does it make sense to end a block at sickle and start the next one simuling to dolt? Seems like I'd be out of gear reaching sickle.If money were no object I'd be using a brand new 8.9mm single 60m. Yes, you got Sickle right. More specifically: the leader does the hard climbing on Pitch 4, then fixes the rope to the bolt at the beginning of the ledge, and runs to the chains with a death loop. It's a 4th class ledge - the follower can't really use ascenders because it's horizontal, and walking the ledge with a giant pile of rope is super irritating. So the follower jugs to the bolt, and then the leader belays the follower to the sickle ledge anchors. We however had the leader keep going to Dolt. Rack: Yes, you'll want the offset cams, and some small nuts. But you don't need dmm offsets, peanuts AND offset brass. For NIAD + Half Dome you rarely place nuts. I'd bring a cam hook. Useful in the Boot Flake, upper Pancake flake, and Great Roof. Also I brought triples from camalot 0.4 to #2. Obviously people bring less but I thought that was good. Bringing 3-4 extra lockers and 5 extra non-lockers allows you to short fix many pitches. Starting the boot flake is C2, there's commonly a copperhead or fixed nut there. Black alien-sized piece or a small nut fits. You could definitely take a whipper there. I remember getting a 0.4 camalot in the very bottom of the boot, then the crack widens and you can free or french the rest of it. Both people swinging is fun and pretty fast. Leader threads the rope through the rings and cleans his gear while being lowered back to the top of the bolt ladder. |
|
I used a 9.4 from Sterling. I think it was called "The Dominator". Offsets for sure as well as a set of offset nuts. I remember those were those were specifically used for the hard or mandatory aid pitches, including the "Changing Corners" pitch. The ONE solid piece of gear I was talking about on the "Glowering Spot" was the blue, purple offset Metolious Mastercam, which I also used on the traverse, bolt ladder pitch on the second to last pitch on Half-Dome. That cam is a gem. Those offset Mastercams are a must. |