When I got an email from James Waldrop expressing an interest in climbing for a week in Yosemite, I was pleased and excited. James had been the quintessential flamebait on Rec.climbing for a notable period. I felt he was just new, excited about climbing and not particularly adept at navigating the culture of Rec.climbing. I thought climbing with him would be an experience in seeing the real person through the clouds of misunderstanding that had gathered over him.
We talked on the phone. He had listed his goals for the trip which included doing long route, learning aid, and so on. When it all digested in my mind, and after considering the length of time he had available, I was inspired to suggest, "If you have all this time, why not just do El Cap?" The remark was a bit "off-the-cuff" but James seem to be interested, so I went through the laundry list of disclaimers regarding all the fear and suffering that climbing El Cap involves.
He seemed fine with the warnings and things started moving ahead. I had really wanted to squeeze in an El Cap route before the end of the season. I thought it would be a personal challenge to help somebody with little experience, and who I hadn’t climbed with, get up a route like the Nose.
In the back of my mind, this was also making me fairly nervous. The Devil appeared on one shoulder. What had I done? Maybe there was a REASON that Rec.Climbing flamebroiled this guy. What was I thinking? Clippity do-da is one thing, but climbing the Big Stone: eating, dangling, and crapping together for days and days!? It is hard enough with a stranger, but this was Sulam!!! Nefarious and outcaste, I envisioned him inflicting obscure psychological and physical tortures on me through as-yet unforeseen exploits.
On my other shoulder, a bright angel was whispering that indeed, he sounded like a nice guy on the phone. This would be our triumphant conquest of misperception and ill-deserved vituperation. It would be my own conquest of any preconceptions regarding "who-somebody-is" from their usenet postings.
To make a long story, medium long. We met, trained a little and went for it. The more time I spent with him, the less he was Sulam the usenet dork, and more he became a person I was getting to know for real. Somebody I respected for many gifts and talents besides climbing. We had a good time.
His other nickname, Manzanita, isn’t without basis. Wall climbing is about being tenacious. He wasn’t gripped by the exposure or discomfort; he was undeterred by wind, rain, and climbing in darkness. He led pitches without cowering when the occasion suited (which was only sometimes, as the Fall days were short and he had to absorb all the other logistics and skills that go along with wall climbing.) The guy slept like a rock on a couple of the worst ledges to boot!
As a crowd control strategy, we started late in the afternoon the first day and slept on Sickle ledge. It started raining in the middle of the night. It was just a sprinkle but I was worried about it getting worse. Sulam was sleeping right through the rain! I woke him up and said, "whad-da-you think? Should we dig out the rain stuff or hope it goes away?" We took joint responsibility for hoping the rain would go away and it did.
Before dawn, some Spaniards jugged fixed lines in the dark and arrived on Sickle. They had been to Baffin Island so rather than drag our asses up in the cool, dark morning, we let them pass and waited for the sun. That decision meant we could only make it to Dolt Tower that day, but at least we had it to ourselves.
The wind howled that day and I was impressed that Sulam kept his composure as the incessant wind, increasing exposure, and pendulum logistics made for a challenging day. He even led the two pitches off Sickle.
The next day we were catching the Spaniards so there was time to let James lead another pitch. He lead Boot Flake while I chilled on Texas Flake. I had forgotten that there is a bit of thin aiding before you get the hand jams! I think run-outs generated by having to leap frog medium camalots gave him some thrills a well.
Waiting for the Spaniards, and Jame’s aid lead cost us some time and we found ourselves traversing the grey bands in the dark. Some East European babes didn’t want to share camp 4 with us (they were a day behind us but we caught up) so we had to sleep at the stinky inadequate hell below camp 4. I think that bastard Sulam managed to sleep somehow! I had all kinds of appendages supported by slings and endured some good wall suffering.
Sulam’s version:
One King Swing later and we're just a couple pitches below Camp 4. Oops, the Slovenians are sleeping on Camp 4. They yell down that there's no more room. Yesterday, when we were at Dolt, they yelled down at the Spanish "Hello, we are two Slovenian women all alone. There's plenty of room up here, come join us!" I guess we're not as cute looking. I bet the problem is Dorf, (Karl’s haul bag) he's just not as nice as that Spanish haul bag.
So where're we going to sleep Karl? Right here. Ummm? You get this little square foot of ledge, James, and I get this square foot. Karl gets to sleep all night in a yoga position, which I'm sure is very relaxing. I spend the night with an aider wrapped around my feet and another around my butt. My head gets the square foot of ledge. As usual I sleep great.
Karl again:
After that, we were pretty much in the groove until the summit. I managed to pull an RP and fly around a bit on the changing corners pitch, but what the hay?!
In short, we did it until it was done. If anybody thinks it’s easy to do the Nose with little experience preceding it, even with a partner leading most of it, they haven’t been there. Thinking about a little innocent jugging from an arm-chair is different than lowering out on traverses and pendulums situated over the yawning void with the wind howling. Even the hike down with all the crap (litter-aly) is no picnic. We were sufficiently worked from the whole adventure to appreciate all the luxuries that deprivation enhances.
Those Motorola Talkabout FRS radios rule for wall climbing! I bought a pair the day after we descended. Hauling communications were simple even with the wind raging.
I wound up stringing pitches together whenever possible. I linked 2 and 3, Sulam linked 4 and 5, then I linked some stove leg pitches, 12 and 13, 14 and 15 (not recommended) some pitches in between the Swing and Camp 4, and the usual pitches up high.
One particularly exciting one involved running the pitch below El Cap Tower to the top of Texas Flake. It was probably a mistake. I had to solo Texas Flake basically, with huge rope drag, and, even with 60 meter ropes, I had to tie cord-o-lettes to the end on each rope to make sure I reached the top of the flake without coming up desperately short. Actually, I also tied the ropes off to the bolt inside the chimney, just to reduce the rope drag so I could reach the top. Then I went back down, freed the ropes and flipped them to the outside of the flake for hauling and jugging. Maybe it would have worked better if I approached the flake from the West and climbed over the mounds of garbage heaped in here. Anybody know?
Anyway, Manzanita never gives up and did alright in my book. I have met a lot of flamers and flamees outside of Rec.climbing and all of them have proved far better than their online reputations would indicate. I suppose its better that way than the other way around. (on-line heros, off-line jerks?) I should thank everyone who fired up the barby at the Sulam roast, if folks had given him more of a chance, I might not have had the opportunity to get on the big stone with him. All the crap and glory are part of the adventure and learning process we all go through in life, so maybe it’s all good.
Peace
Karl
