Yosemite: Ten Days After & Virginia Start to Tangerine Trip, 10/2024

If you're going to try, go all the way.

Otherwise, don't even start.

Highest light is me!

Part 1: The Dynamic Goal Posts

A little over two years ago, I walked into a climbing gym for what was effectively the “first time” and purchased a membership with the plan to start bouldering as a casual hobby. If you would have told me then that in two years, I would climb El Cap, I would have probably called you crazy. Probably…

At the time, my only exposure to El Cap was via the Dawn Wall and Free Solo and I had been in Yosemite for one day where I had done the hike up to Yosemite falls. However, the seeds for more were soon planted. My friend joked about climbing the RNWF of half dome in the near future. I took a look at the topo. Why not? I thought, How hard could it be? I can climb 5.9 in the gym no problem! Mind you, at this point, I had no idea what aid climbing was and barely even knew what a cam was. Blissfully unaware of the things I didn't even know.

I fell rapidly down the rabbit and was soon leading sport and trad climbs both single and multi pitch. Climbing more and more, getting stronger and stronger. I was now more aware of the skills I did not yet know. Skills that I would need to learn for big walling. Everything seemed so far away but I began to form a loose timeline to climb the RNWF of half dome at some point in late 2025. That would probably give me enough time to prepare. So I started 2024 with that goal in mind. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I couldn’t take the wait. Why not climb it this year? I had been on a short trip to Yosemite in July 2023 and was able to climb valley 5.9 already so I just had to figure out aid and all the rest of the wall skills. 

For me, waiting for anything is always the hardest part because you never know the answer. If you try it forces you to either fail or succeed so at least you reach a conclusion. Then you can move on or prepare more and try again. The already dynamic goalposts shifted; I decided I would climb the RNWF of half dome at the tail end of 2024, not 2025. I kept getting stronger, a trip to the creek helped me step up to 5.10 trad, Index and Squamish helped me get good at C2 aid, and the MP sales forum helped me source gear, so much gear. All the independent gear makers who made stuff big complies wouldn’t were also a pivotal part in this process. Skot, run out customs, Moses, pecker shop, fish, and A5 to name a few. Pete and Fabio’s book was another indispensable resource leading up to the trip. Up to this point, all my climbing had been self taught but I decided that if I wanted to do this safely I would need to take a big wall course. Luckily Lani was an amazing instructor and taught the class at index!

October was when my valley trip was planned. Then the goalposts shifted again. How could I go to Yosemite and NOT climb the nose. After all, it is the most famous rock climb in the world. Before I knew it, climbing half dome had been put in the back burner, my eyes were set on El Cap. As fate would have it, the goalposts would shift one more time before my trip: 2 weeks from my departure date, I suddenly found myself partnerless. I contemplated canceling my trip but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had come too far to turn back. I had to go this year, or else I would never forgive myself for not even trying. 

One Facebook post and a non-refundable flight later and my car was packed. I was going to the valley for 2 weeks instead of 1 with the goal to wall as much as possible and would not be disappointed no matter the outcome.

In his trip report A Visit with the Emperor - Mt Robinson, Infinite Patience, Marc-Andre Leclerc wrote “I reminded myself that you only ever get to visit a place for the first time once in your life.” This was my fifth trip to Yosemite but each time I visited, it had been with a different set of skills and goals, a different set of eyes, almost as a different person. While this time was far from my first, it might as well have been.

I felt a sense of impending awe as I drove into the valley, similar to what I imagine astronauts must feel in the weeks and days leading up to their flight. Preparing to enter a world with zero gravity, where even mundane tasks like going to the bathroom turn into complicated ordeals. In a way, wall living seemed almost opposite to life in space. Everything hangs in space where it was left, no gravity means no tethers needed, much the opposite of walling where (as Pete writes in Hooking Up) “If it ain’t clipped it’s gone.” The valley walls reached into the sky similarly to how the rocket ships sat on the launch pad prominent above everything else around them.

Part 2: Ten Days After, V 5.7 A2+/C3F, 12 pitches 1,500 feet

The route

My facebook post looking for a partner had garnered a range of responses but I had agreed to climb with a guy, Nick, who looked like a good match and had a similar skill set as me. He seemed psyched on climbing The Prow but after some convincing and promising him I would lead any pitch he was uncomfortable leading, he agreed to climb Ten Days After instead. The right choice.

Lugging the haul bags and water up to the base of the climb is always soul crushing and makes me wonder if I really want to do this. Soon enough we were at the base of the climb. The plan was to climb 4 pitches a day, 2 nights in the wall one at the top, then hike down the 4th day. I climbed Jo-Jo’s, a fantastic splitter crack. Nick led the rest to the Prow P1 anchors. As I looked up at the second pitch I noticed at least a few hundred dollars of iron there, someone had recently fixed nearly the whole pitch with pins… I took my one and only fall of the trip on this pitch when a .1/.2 WC offset I was standing in blew. My daisy gave me a rather hard catch onto one of the fixed pins. I need to be more careful when testing micro cams. At the end of the pitch I clipped some rivets and hopped over the Ten Days After P2 anchors. By the time Nick had finished P3 and I started jugging, it was getting dark. We were one pitch behind pace but not concerned.

Nick climbing pitch 3

I was excited to try out Nick’s Delta2P ledge (which he had not yet used) but as it turned out, tensioning it correctly was rather difficult and sleeping head to head didn’t allow for as much space as head to foot. I don’t think either of us slept great that night since the ledge was incredibly slanted. 

Night 1 junk show

Pitch 4 was pretty straightforward, I nailed a few beaks and clipped some fixed heads before moving to a good small cam crack, careful to properly test my small gear. After Nick led pitch 5, the circle head traverse was my lead. Luckily, enough heads were fixed that I did not have to learn to place my own, something I have yet to do. There is still a fixed pink tricam with a useless sling in one of the pin scars. The pitch went fine hamerless. We lowered out the bags the full width, I hauled them belayed nick across as he re-aided the pitch.

Top of P4

It was later than we hoped and looking up, pitch 7 looked long and thin, I agreed to take it and set off, nailing beaks almost immediately. I found the fixed gear a lot mankier on this pitch than the circle head traverse and honestly found this pitch to be the aid crux of the climb for me. We got the ledge leveled better that night but I still did not sleep great.

The next morning we decided we were getting off the wall that day but the style of “finishing” and the descent needed to be decided. We had miscalculated the water and were drinking a lot more than anticipated due to the heat. Projected to run out early, we decided on two options. If we found at least a gallon on Tapir Terrace, we would see the route through to the top and hike off. If not, we would rappel the prow from the top of P8.

We're going to the top!

After some awful rope drag unprotected free climbing, I reached the P8 anchors, and to my surprise when I looked to the right, I saw a gallon of water on the ledge. I radioed Nick “We’re going to the top today!” We made the foolish mistake of thinking that the climbing would be relatively smooth sailing since it was mostly C1 and we had rejoined the Prow.

It all started going down hill when I realized that the alternate P9 belay was a gear belay. Great, I’ve never hauled off a gear anchor. I built a 6 piece anchor and figured if this isn’t good enough, I’m not sure what is. The hauling went smoothly and we didn’t die. Nick groveled his way up the “easy gully” P10. I happily placed the #5 boat anchor at the start of the wide crack on pitch 11 then ran it out on the shitty free climbing up to below the slab section right before the P11 anchor. I radioed Nick “I’m not sure what to do man, this is kinda fucked… I have no gear for like 30 feet behind me and the anchors are like 7 feet up on unprotectable slab. And I have to pull a beach whale mantle move to get onto the slab” 

You think that's enough pieces?

I sat there hanging on a #3 contemplating my options. Finally I saw a way, there were some pockets on a corner in the left side of the slab. I took a deep breath and sent it. In a moment I was safe and clipped to the anchors. I fixed Nick and hauled. By 7pm Nick was starting the last pitch. 70 feet which started as some C1 followed by some 4th class. This should go quickly!!! But soon I realized this would not be the case. Nick zig-zagged back and forth trying to find out where to go. Finally he realized there was a slight dyno move to a slab to the fourth class section he wasn’t comfortable doing. I told him I’d do it but with heinous rope drag after throwing the move, I thought I was going to get pulled off the rock. I built an intermediate anchor and we thought about our options. After a lot of faffing around, I made it to the true summit, set up an anchor to haul, and fixed the lead line. 

Starting the last pitch... what could possibly go wrong

What followed was the most brutal hauling I have ever experienced due to the intermediate anchor redirecting the bag but adding a big angle in the path of the bags but by midnight we both stood at the summit along with the bags. 5 hours after we started the last pitch. We had done it! Overjoyed, exhausted, and ready to go to bed I grabbed my sleeping bag out of my bag and tossed it on the ground. I watched it bounce once, twice, and off the cliff into the darkness below. “Dude,” I said sheepishly, “I just fucking threw my sleeping bag off the cliff.” Nick looked at me in disbelief. “Are you being serious?” He asked. “Yep, it’s gone.” I was so tired that I put one jacked on my legs, one on normally, laid down in my sleeping pad and immediately passed out.

Bags at the top

I got about 2 hours of sleep before a headlamp woke me up. I looked over, dazed and confused. Someone asked if they could use our anchor. “Sure, it’s a mess though.” I responded. Soon the second was up. Ross and Quinn had completed their sub 9 hour run of the Prow. We talked for a while and they headed down for the curry showers at around 2:30. What a fever dream. I thought as I went back to sleep.

Passed out in the AM, note the 2 jackets

The sunrise over half dome was one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. Soon the bags were packed and we started the grueling descent. With no water and the all too heavy bags, it was a slow and terrifying process. By noon I was laying on the ground at the backpackers camp drop off zone and drinking liters of water from the tap. The fact that you could push a button and water would just come out was crazy to me. 

We had done it! Actually done it. And made it to the ground. My demeanor didn’t show it but I was ecstatic. Many times on the wall I had looked down at the cars and people on the valley floor or thought about my friends back home and asked myself What am I doing here? Why do I have to do this? Can’t I just have fun in a more casual way? I was glad to be down. But the walls had a weird draw. I already missed hanging painfully in my harness trying to untangle the mess of rope, or nailing away one beak at a time, or timidly bounce testing a copperhead, hoping it wouldn’t blow. As soon as we had loaded our stuff back into Nick’s van and were heading to camp 4, I found myself thinking What next? But I already knew what was next, I had to climb El Cap…

Part 3: Virginia, VI 5.8 A3, 17 pitches 2,500 feet

That afternoon Nick and I debriefed and sorted gear. I learned that Nick would have to go back to work and could not climb another wall with me. I had a real meal for the first time in 4 days and took a shower all the while pondering my situation. I need to find a partner.

As I was coming back from my shower I bumped into Eivind, a Norwegian climber staying at my site at camp 4. He told me he was gearing up to go solo leaning tower and asked me how my climb had been. It was then that I had an idea. “Have you heard of the route Virginia?” I asked. He admitted he hadn’t. I told him to take a look at it in the book and let me know if it seemed interesting. “I want to climb it but don’t have a partner.” I shared. He said he’d have a look and think about it. A few hours later he told me he was game. We started prepping the next day; this time I made sure we brought enough water.

The rack

Saturday morning I studied the route. We decided to flag my ledge, something I’d never done before. I read and reread the section in Hooking Up explaining how to do it about 6 times before I finally understood it. At 5:30 we were in the meadow, bags full with about 22 liters of water each as we started hiking our first load to the base of the climb. We found the start of the climb after about an hour of hiking, saw 2 rattlesnakes including a baby, and dropped our water off. 

H2O

One of the snakes

The next day we got an early start and lugged all our gear up to the base. The plan was to fix to pitch 4, sleep at camp, then bring the food and ledge up the next morning and blast. I scampered up the loose blocks to the rivet past the bush, clipped it, clipped a fixed KB, then promptly busted out the hammer and nailed a beak in the thin seam. The goal was never to go hammerless but nailing the third placement did seem a bit early. Oh well, at least I won’t hit the ground now. I worked my way up the overhung first pitch and on to the second. After some shitty free climbing I was at the anchor. I had forgotten my sun hoodie in the car so I baked at the anchor for the next few hours while Eivind cleaned my lead then led 3 and 4. I wasn't too upset though, after all, I was climbing El Cap!

Before Eivind started his lead we decided we didn’t need the haul line, we had no bags and nothing to tag so we would leave it fixed to the ground from P2. Before I left the anchor to clean, I radioed him, “should I fix the lead rope to the anchor here?” “I think it’s fine.” He said, “we should just be able to rappel.” Seemed good to me, I thought about it for a few more moments.. The P4 anchor was only a few feet to the climbers left and the P2 anchor was on a big ledge. We should have no problem getting back. I stayed tied in to the end of the lead line and began to jug and clean blissfully unaware of how hosed we had just become.

I got to the top of P4, we high-fived, racked all our gear on the anchor and I swapped to rappel, excited to get down and go to the Curry Village pizza deck for one last meal before blasting. I think Eivind realized that we had made a grave mistake before I did. When I got to about 5 feet in height above the pitch 2 anchor I started to sense that something might be wrong. There I sat suspended in air, 120 feet off the ground and 15 feet from the wall contemplating my options. 

If you zoom in on the bottom right corner, you can see the haul line fixed to the ground...

I flailed around helplessly, unable to generate any sort of momentum. Next I tried throwing a bite of the rope to sling a flake but that didn’t work either. I began to stress; we may need to call YOSAR… but then I remembered reading about the nut toss on half dome and had an idea. I radioed Eivind for the hooks and he sent a few down the rap line. I pushed my ascender as high as I could and looked the other way to make sure I didn’t lose an eye. I tied the large cassin hook to the end of the rope and began to throw it at the flake next to the anchor. After a few tries I was successful in hooking the flake and reeling myself in. I attached a second hook to one of my aiders and carefully hooked my way over to the anchor. Once clipped I let out a triumphant shout. A few minutes later we were on the ground headed down to Curry village laughing about the epic we had narrowly avoided. The most embarrassing part: Marek Raganowicz had witnessed and (allegedly) photographed the ordeal while enjoying a beer at the base of the shortest straw.

The solution

We were up early the next day with all our food and the ledge doing the hike to the base of the climb for the last time. This time I didn’t forget my sun hoodie. After thinking about yesterday’s ordeal, the climb began to feel real. “You know, once the second person leaves the pitch 4 anchor we pass the point of no return right?” I informed Eivind. He had been thinking about that too and agreed. After we left the pitch 4 anchor, the only way down was climbing to the top. 

I took a deep breath and looked at the ground one last time before I unclippped my daisy from the anchor and began jugging pitch 5. We had passed the point of no return. In that regard we had already submitted El Cap but now we just had to put in the work to actually get ourselves to the top. 

I can only describe the A3 hook traverse as pedestrian. It was way shorter than I thought and a fall would have few consequences. I started the crack with an equalized black totem and gray C3. Then began the endless beak seam. Nailing was a blast and I probably placed 10 or so beaks, running out of the 2s and 3s I had on my harness. The pitch was great, I secretly wished the hook traverse had been a bit longer but oh well. If that was A3 hooks, I wasn't worried for the rest of the route.

On hooks

Jugging and hauling the first 4 took more time and energy than anticipated so we set up our ledge on top of pitch 6 at a less than ideal hang with half of the ledge in the air since the wall ended, nice and hourglassed.

Pitch 7 took Eivind longer than anticipated and was definitely an unexpected crux. As I geared up to lead 8 we felt drops of rain. I thought about how I had left the fly in my car. Luckily a few drops was all it was. This pitch had 3 or so tension traverse hook moves and was a lot of fun! I took the pitch after too and turned on my headlamp as it was getting dark. It was a mix of free off the bat then some aid then I walked bigger gear up to the anchor back cleaning everything after a fixed pin so Eivind could lower out.

Trying to stay awake

Great writing and awesome trip report!

When on Tangerine Trip...

As morning of day 3 rolled around, I geared up to lead pitch 10. Should be pretty quick I thought. It ended up taking me 3 hours and was significantly more involved than anticipated. Walking #3 C4s off the belay wasn’t bad but once I got to the squeeze slot my progress slowed down. I got my body fully into the slot and either needed my #4, #5 or a blue or black totem. Unfortunately all I could reach were my .5s to 1s; all my other gear was wedged between my body and the rock. Eventually I managed to wiggle a black totem around and was able to place it in the thin crack and start the right leaning roof crack. I also led pitches 11 and 12, both were a little tricky off the start but then went into rivet ladders.

Walking #3s, Eivind's POV

At some point in the day, I reached into my bag and took out my camera eager to take some pictures on it since the quality is always noticeably better than phone pictures. Why won’t it turn on?? I tried flipping the power switch a few times then I looked in the battery compartment. Empty. I’d left the battery down in my car. Great, another paperweight. iPhone photos would have to do.

Couldn't tell you what pitch

We set up our camp at the top of pitch 12. 5 more pitches to go and this was our third night on the wall. We chatted and decided that tomorrow would be the last day. We had to crank up the heat and climb 5 pitches instead of our usual 3. For the first time in the wall, we set alarms for 5am. I’m not sure exactly what time I started but I was at the top of pitch 13 at 8:30. The section the topo labeled “rotten” really was. Everywhere I tried to place a cam something was hollow. One flake or another. I cautiously aided the first bit but after the mid-pitch rivet, the rock was too rotten to aid so I had no choice but to free climb for a section until I reached a #3 C4 crack right below the anchor. This pitch tied for least favorite pitch on the route.

Questing off pitch ???

Eivind took 14 and blasted up. I took 15 and from the look of the topo thought it would be a roof. Once pulled through the rivet ladder I saw that, while it was a roof crack, the face was slabby. I made it right below the anchor, leaving lots of gear behind, until the crack ended and I looked up. Shit, I do need the hooks after all… Eivind tagged them up on the haul line and when they were about a foot away from me the radio cracked to life. “That’s the bags!” Eivind exclaimed. Just barely got the hooks.

Realizing that it IS in fact a few hook moves to the anchor. Ph Tom Evans

I was looking forward to some C1 on pitch 16 as I took off up the hook and rivet ladder. I got to the last bolt and started hooking to the left of it and to a flake when suddenly the whole flake moved. I quickly back aided to right above the bolts and hooked a bomber edge with both my aiders and took a look around. I couldn’t see any way up except for using the flake. There were some heads in a blank corner that went to the Native Son anchor but that seemed way off route and not much better. I was at a loss and stood there for 5 or so minutes. The loose flake was the size of a surfboard and moved about half an inch to an inch when I lightly tugged on it. I thought briefly about trundling it but with all the people on zodiac as well as Eivind below me I decided it wasn’t safe although a few more good jerks would definitely dislodge it.

The surfboard and still hollow but less hollow flake above. Ph Tom Evans

I managed to get a ballnut in the still hollow but less hollow flake above the surfboard as well as a micro cam then reached a jug and did some free climbing. I made a 2 piece anchor at the base of the C1 crack and lowered to back clean the gear I had left when free climbing which would hose Eivind if he had to clean it. The C1 crack was pretty straightforward and soon Eivind joined me at the anchor. This pitch was my other least favorite pitch.

He took the lead on the last “5.6” pitch. Bringing only a double rack of cams from black totem to #3 C4. Off the belay the pitch looked easy but I should have known from Ten Days After that the initial 15 feet were giving me a false sense of security. Once he was around the corner Eivind radioed me for the nuts. Then a few minutes later, the offset cams, then the small cams, and finally his aiders. He was going to aid the pitch. He reached a small tree and made an anchor off that and 2 cams, I released the bags and came up. Without free shoes (which neither of us had) the 5.6 section was pretty rough, I would definitely have aided it too. But not only did Eivind not have free shoes, he had been duct taping his shoes back together for the last 3 days as the soles had been delaminating.

The 2 dots way to the right in the picture

I quested up to find the true summit tree, brought Eivind up then hauled and at midnight our bags were safely on the top, away from the edge. Just like Ten Days After, the last pitch had taken 5 hours but we had done it. We had successfully climbed El Cap! My second wall in the valley and Eivind’s first. Somehow we had made it with only a few small hiccups and relatively minimal faffing. This time when I took my (borrowed) sleeping bag out of the haul bag (thanks Nick!) I was a lot more careful how I set it down so it didn’t go flying off the cliff this time. 

Bag all packed

We woke up to another gorgeous sunrise and took our time packing our bags up. We had managed the water well this trip. I had about 4L left. The descent was a lot less exposed than Ten Days After but our bags were heavier so we went slowly. Eventually we reached the rappels. The first rap was basically still a walk so I did it with the bag in my back, not much trouble. Instead of being smart, I decided that continuing to rappel with the bag in my back was a better option than riding the pig down. On the 4th rappel, the wall became overhung slightly and I realized I might be screwed. One intense ab workout and a lot of grunting and cursing later and I was past the rappel section and into the gully trail. I blasted down so fast I almost fell a few times. Every time that would happen I would take a deep breath. Slow down, you made it up the approach 3 times with loads, you made it all the way up the climb without taking any falls, you made it past the 3rd/4th class scrambling, you made it past the rappels, don’t break your ankle on the hike… just breathe and take it slow, don’t be an idiot.

Starting the descent

I hung out at the picnic area until Eivind (who had made the smart decision to ride the pigs) joined me. We caught the shuttle back to El Cap bridge and I found my car where I had left it.

At around 3:30 we threw our bags in the trunk. Now we had actually done it. Climbed El Cap and survived the descent! We rushed over to the Curry Village pizza deck and ordered a large El Cap. I don’t like olives or mushrooms but it didn’t matter, the pizza was so damn good. I couldn’t believe what we had done.

Pigs in the car

After that and a shower we went to find Tom Evans and grab the photos he’d taken of us. I made the mistake of telling him one of his shots was “good” to which he said “never say a shot is ‘good.’ They are all ‘good,’ there are just some that are exceptional.” I’d argue that all the shots he got of us were exceptional, or at least I was in them which was what really mattered!

That night we sorted gear and I packed my car to start my long drive home. It felt odd to be wrapping this trip up already. On one hand it seemed like I had only just arrived but on the other I was ready to be home. The next morning Eivind and I said our goodbyes and I headed out. I stopped at the meadow one last time and got out to look at El Cap. I still couldn’t believe I had climbed it. Just a little over 2 years since I started climbing and I have climbed one of the greatest walls in the world. Absurd.

As I drove out of the valley Stop Waiting by Cigarettes After Sex played. I remembered listening to that song on the drive to the first day of work and thinking So this is it huh, the first day of the rest of my life. The prospect of spending the next who knows how many years working an office job seemed kind of bleak and the weather was gloomy that day which didn’t help. As the song played this time, I reflected on the last year and realized it hadn’t been all that bad. Ya I’d worked 40 hours most weeks but I’d also met so many new people and experienced so many new things. I’d had so much fun. I’d be lying if I said I was excited to return to work but I was excited to be heading home, to the life I’d made there. Maybe I’d finally be able to send Bust the Move (a stupid 12a sport route at world wall that I’d been working since early May).

For me, this trip was by no means “all the way” but rather the first step towards whatever “all the way” actually is.

I don’t quite know what I’m looking for in this life, but whatever it is, I found a part of it on this trip to the center of the universe.

If you’re going to try, go all the way.

Otherwise don’t even start.

Awesome!