ropeboy's Logbook (26 ascents)

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It was hard to get off the ground. After a some tricky moves near the ground, a steep jam to a good foothold on the right was hardest. The offwidth crack above is a little insecure but as long as you have energy you are OK.

Climbed with a guy I met in Camp Four named Mike Dent. We got blasted with some scarey rock fall while on Sickle Ledge which cut one of our ropes and gave us a few minor scrapes. We screamed up at the party above us. In the still morning air a voice from Camp Five came down "We have a broken leg up here." So we rapped off and notified the rangers. We had to stay on the ground while a helicopter ferried ropes and climbers to the top. Rescuers descended to the injured climber. The next day the climber was lowered in a litter all the way to the ground. Jim Bridwell walked the litter down the wall and guided it past obstacles. Then a frenchman doing a solo jumped on the route as soon as it was clear. We gave him some space and resumed our own climb. This was the early 70's and we had the usual big wall rack of 40-50 pitons. a selection of nuts, one big haul bag with food, sleeping bags, and five gallons of water plus one rucksack. We were climbing 5.8 and nailing the rest. Perfect weather made for enjoyable climbing. The Great Roof Pitch had perhaps only three permanent pitons in it, and the other pitches were about the same. Camp Six was ripe and smelled like...Camp Six. We cruised up it in four and a half days, always getting to the bivies with pleanty of time to spare. I was getting spooked on the last two pitches. I just wanted to get the climb over with without an accident. Nothin' happened and friends met us on top with fried chicken.

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One of the most beautiful routes I have done in the Valley. Splashing waterfalls, shade trees, and easy rock make it a hanging garden. We used the old rotten log. The climbing took us four hours.

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Climbed it with Bob Anderson and John Bragg.

We had a rain and hail storm during the first day. Cars were driving with headlights down on the road below. Fog and mist were blowing against the nearby cliffs. But the wind was blowing from the West, not into the rock, and we were as dry as could be. Thirty feet out from the wall the weather was miserable. I cleaned the slanting nailing pitch above Guano Ledge wearing a headlamp, nervously watching the lightening in the area. There wasn't much you could do. A strike on the tower would probably get us on Guano or on the crack I was cleaning so I finished the job.
We settled in for the night and discovered we had forgotten one of our food bags, but the other was so well stocked we had enough. On the second day the weather cleared. We climbed with the swooping swallows, dropped one of our ascenders, thrilled at the spectacular overhang of the Great Roof and hurried to finish the route. All went well and we got down to the road before dark. That night I slept outside my tube tent because it was full of water from the recent rains.