Summer 99: Another Long Trip Report

When you're climbing with a stranger
And he leads you into danger
And your feet are losing all their friction.
There's a handsome Ranger
Who will rescue you from danger ...
Just caaaaaaall for Ranger Lincoln -
Just caaaaaaall for RANGER LINCOLN!

Marti and the boys fly to Portland where Tom and Colleen generously lend them a car to drive to Spokane (what nice folks!!). Meanwhile, a few days later, John, Paul, Alastair, and Jenny (Paul's daughter, now 12) arrive at the Seattle airport. Upon seeing the incredible pile of gear sitting by the curb (including two inflatable kayaks among the assorted climbing stuff) Paul upgraded our rental car to a truly gigantic SUV: a Durango (or was that a Canyonero? I forget ...). We all piled in and headed north to a motel for the night.

Suckered in by the Evil Book (the 50 Classic Climbs of North America) Paul, Alastair, and I found ourselves trying to explain to the backcountry rangers in North Cascades National Park why, of the hundreds or even thousands of good climbs to do there, the only one that we would do is Forbidden Peak. The problem was that all of the bivy sites at Boston Basin were full for the night so we would either have to camp somewhere non-optimal, do a different climb, go for it in a day, or wait a day. After lots of discussion regarding alternate approaches, long traverses, and highly dubious approach trails we settled on the last alternative: waiting a day.

These rangers are sneaky: they make the climbs sound hard but the approach "trails" are always described as "easy". Thus, the unwary alpinist finds that the reccomended approach trail (a "cakewalk") to be steep, slippery, elusive, surrounded in Devil's Club, and generally an epic in its own right. The theory being that after you've nearly killed yourself on the allegedly easy hike in, you'll skip doing the supposedly difficult route and hike back out, relieving the rangers of a potential rescue operation.

Anyway, in this instance, they didn't really try to discourage us from the West Ridge of Forbidden but they did suggest some alternate approach trails that were less than trivial. One suggestion was an approach from the northwest, via a climbers trail that led to Mt. Total Screaming Terror (actually "Torment" - I remember it now!). This set the stage for the rest of the day. Delayed a day, we now had time to kill. I wanted to drive to Squamish and frolic on clean, dry granite. The only problem was that Alastair didn't have his passport and couldn't cross into Canada. So we split up: Paul, Jenny, and I to Squamish and while Alastair dayhiked up this alleged trail to Torment. We didn't get Alastair going till after 1pm and Squamish was a long ways away. We roared off in the Durango and found ourselves in the Squamish parking lot around 5pm: plenty of time to climb!

The objective was simple: Diedre, a 5 pitch 5.7 that absolutely everyone at Squamish has to do. During the day, the endless line of climbers makes this route a poor choice by this time the route usually clears out. Although a party started just ahead of us, they were fast and we hauled ass up the route in a couple of hours. Paul got to do some leading and we all enjoyed the scenery and weather. I couldn't talk Paul into any more climbing so we headed back to the Cascades to meet Alastair.

Meanwhile, back near Forbidden peak, Alastair was hiking on a mostly non-existent trail in rather dubious weather. The peaks were completely covered in clouds so he never got the views that the Cascades are known for. Instead, as he reached snowline, all he saw was rain and lightening. He beat a hasty retreat and had to wait, cold and soaked, for us to return to camp. This will teach him to always carry his passport!

It rained that night and we spent the morning drying out in Marblemount. In the restaurant, tales of an epic involving rain and lightening on Forbidden Peak were being told at an adjoining table. But the weather was looking better and we finally organized our gear and headed up the trail to Boston Basin.

As we hiked up, we met a lot of discouraged climbers retreating from the previous day's storms. One of them insulted my choice of footwear (tennis shoes full of holes) so I resolved to stay in tennies until the last shred of trail vanished into the snowbanks. Worked fine, too! So there, you turkey! Anyway, this trail is pretty brutal for climbers with full packs. The crux of the approach (and maybe the whole climb!) was the stream crossings. The first crossing was the worst: some ugly snow led to a wet crossing at a steep place in the stream - a fall might have sent you down the cascades below. We made it OK (Jenny was gripped) and then after few more less exposed crossings the trail got better and we stomped on up, entering snow at around 5500 feet, a very low snow line for this time of year. We were soon in Boston Basin but the good sites were all taken. We didn't want to camp on snow, though, so we settled for some sloping rocks a few hundred yards away from the main area.

The weather had cleared up and it was a really beautiful evening. Our route was obvious: easy snow leading a steeper snow gully and finally a jagged ridge to the summit. We set up camp, ate, played cards, watched descending climbers, and generally enjoyed ourselves that evening.

The next morning some of the other parties were up and about well before dawn. We took our time, leaving camp around 6:45. The snow went quickly. Paul and Jenny were feeling the effects of the altitude a bit but we still made rapid progress. There was enough snow to cover all of the crevasses on the small glacier at the base of the peak so we didn't need to rope up yet.

Above us, one party was on the east ridge while another was on our route, the west ridge. As the snow steepened, their steps were quite welcome. When we entered the gully, inclined around 40 degrees, we put on our crampons. This was Jenny's first time using an axe and crampons and she was having no problems at all. I set a rock belay at one of the rap stations on the side of the gully to safeguard her; the bottom of the gully emptied into a bunch of large crevasses. Alastair took the lead and soon attained the belay station at the top of the snow. A few cracks in the snow near the top proved to be the hardest part of the snow climbing.

Here we caught the party ahead of us. They moved fast up the snow but were taking forever to get up the 4th class pitch above that leads to the ridge. They had us paralyzed in fear (well, at least bored) as the leader kept talking about a huge rock about to come down "any time now". I finally climbed up to the left of them and we all were soon on the ridge. Their mythical loose rock never came down. These guys had spent over an hour on a single pitch of 5.0 and placed tons of gear while I soloed the whole thing easily. At least they didn't try to stop us passing them.

This is the point where you have to choose the strategy for the rest of the day. Either you cache your snow gear (boots, crampons, axe) and commit to downclimbing the route or you haul everything and have the easier East Ridge as a descent option. We chose the former: we switched to climbing shoes and light packs and made a run for it.

Our strategy was simple: I would climb with Jenny, Paul with Alastair. We would all climb in tandem, with Jenny leaving the gear in for the other rope. This worked well: the climbing was easy but mostly horizontal. I left in a lot of pro to keep Jenny safe and she had no problem keeping up. The only bad part for her was a big, exposed step across a deep crack in the ridge.

After about 3 rope lengths, we reached the first of three steps in the ridge. We waited for Paul and Alastair to replenish the rack and then switched to using real belays (at least for Jenny). The next three pitches were really cool: big exposure, good rock, spectacular. The second step was the hardest: about 5.6 for a few steps but most of the climbing was easier. Jenny was a little spooked by the exposure but determined to hit the top. The weather was perfect, the views superb. Jenny was particularly fascinated by a glacier sending small avalanches toward a lake far below us.

We soon reached the false summit. Here I let Jenny lead the last pitch: a scary move where you must dangle blindly off the false summit before stepping down to the last easy ridge. Jenny topped out around 2pm and I soon joined here. In a while Paul and Alastair appeared and we celebrated another 50 classic climb in the bag.

The descent of the ridge took as long as the ascent. We did a lot of tandem climbing and three raps on the steeper parts. Even these raps were fairly horizontal and you had to be really careful not to fall off the ridgeline near the end of them. Jenny was getting more and more confident and we soon were back at the pass with our snow gear.

Meanwhile, the party we had passed had spent nearly all day doing 2 or 3 pitches of 5.2. Absolutely amazing how slow they were moving. They were just starting down when we arrived at our boots. As we changed, they slowly dropped down the rock pitch at the top of the snow. We started as soon as they pulled the rope and found they had set a new anchor for the next rap since they didn't like the existing one. Cool - now we had an anchor for ourselves. We now started rapping down the opposite side of the gully from the other guys - fortunately there were anchors on both sides. Although they had fewer climbers, we were faster, mainly since we were doing tandem rappels. We soon got to the easier part of the snow - we still belayed Jenny but the rest of us were able to safely descent the bucket steps. Finally, we coiled the ropes and started plunge stepping at a fast pace back to the tent. It's great when you can run down something in 10 minutes that took hours on the way up. Jenny was really getting into plunge stepping and glissading. The only problem was that we didn't have gaiters (Alastair said we wouldn't need them!) so our feet got really wet.

Reaching the tent, it was already 8:30. Wow! Still a long hike back! With our battle cry "We're Screwed" we struck camp and were hiking by 9pm. The top of the trail went fast since it was still snow but as darkness fell we slowed down. Although we hand only 2 headlamps, we still set a pretty fast pace. Doing the last stream crossing was the worst part: Jenny was getting pretty gripped but she made it OK. The last bit of the trail seemed to go on forever but we finally reached the car around midnight.

We were supposed to drive to Portland that night. Not bloody likely! We barely made it back to Interstate 5 - here we ate at Denny's and crashed in the first motel we came to.

Since we had delayed the climb a day, we had missed our plane from Seattle to Portland. Driving instead, we sped through Seattle and arrived in Portland just in time to miss the second day of the Haskell meeting we had used to justify the trip. Oh well, there's one more day left. Marti and the boys were already at Mark Jones place, totally unworried that we were a day and a half late. After a very productive day of meetings, we were ready to press on.

We had to split the party again. I wanted to hit Smith Rock with Mark Shields (a local gradual student) and Alastair. Paul and Marti wanted to be more laid back. The basic problem was lack of transportation: I needed a car. In the end, we hijacked an unsuspecting car-owning grad student, Tom Nordin, and headed off to the Oregon desert. Meanwhile, Marti, Paul, and the kids elected to spend the time kayaking the Santiam.

We spent the night at Smith and were ready for action the next morning. We headed for the shady side (a smart move!) and Tom and Alastair hopped on Spiderman, a nice 2 pitch 5.7 crack climb, while Mark and I did a short bolted route to the left (Out of Harm's Way, 5.8). Tom did quite well for a guy who has only climbed outdoors once before. While Tom and Alastair finished off their climb, Mark and I walked over to the Mesa Verde wall and psyched ourselves for a short 10d sport route, Reason To Be. I managed to clip 2 bolts before wimping out. Mark finished the climb, a very technical and pumpy route that I was only barely able to scrape up. Tom spent a long time working on the 10d for our amusement. He finally made the first couple of moves before giving up. Alastair made it past the first bolt but also maxed out.

Back over the pass. I lead Tom up a bolted 5.7, Dancer, (next to the Stowe, Vermont high school ski team!); Alastair lead a now-toasted Mark up an easy bolted 5.9, Revelations. Finally, we headed for the basalt and toproped a 10c that Mark had been working on. That was Alastair, Tom, and Mark took off while I waited for Marti to pick me up.

Well after dark, Paul finally showed up and we were all soon in the Bend Econolodge; Mark Jones and family were also with us. The yakking had gone well but they had started late. The only big rapid is a spot where the river is squeezed through a narrow chute. Paul and Jenny tried this but hit it at the wrong angle to punch through the big wave. The boat stopped with poor Jenny high in the air (Paul yelled "Paddle Paddle!!" but she was nowhere near the water!) and then slid backwards into the wave and flipped. There's a big pool at the bottom so everyone was fine but it scared Jenny. Eric and Jay wouldn't run it so Paul ran it again in the other boat with Marti and hit the line with no problems.

The next day Paul and I got up early and snuck out to Smith while everyone else slept in. We did two quick routes: an easy 5.8 hueco pull on the Morning Glory wall and a 5.9 (Light on the Path) just to the right. We rejoined the group and everyone went into Lava River cave, a big lava tube. Next, Paul and Jenny and I went to the Umpqua river while everyone else went to Crater Lake. We did the topmost run on the Umpqua; Jenny and I on the first part and Paul and Jenny down lower. Everything was going well until the spot where Paul and I traded places. There was a really nice surfing wave there that I just had to get before giving Paul the boat. I missed the first time so Jenny and I dragged the boat back up and tried again. I told Paul "This is how you do it!" and headed back. Unfortunately, I missed again! I was desperately trying to eddy out just below the wave when we hit a smaller wave sideways and flipped. The swim was no big deal but it left Jenny pretty cold. Paul took over but a while later Jenny had to get out and warm up in the car. Everything else went well except for a minor mixup about the final takeout. It was a really nice run in a very pretty canyon - I'll have to go back.

We had enough time to drive through Crater Lake but it was so cold nobody wanted to get out of the car. After driving through a virtual blizzard of small moths (leaving the car totally covered in bug guts) we found everyone in Klamath Falls.

The plan for the next day was to meet Tim Hatten and his family at Castle Crags, across from Mt. Shasta. I wanted to get there early enough to catch them before they left camp so Jay and I headed out early while everyone else slept in with a promise to join us later.

We had no problems finding everyone at the campground. Tim's kids, Shay and Rhea, are both about Jay's age and everyone had a great time playing together. We decided to hike up with all the kid's climbing gear and then switch to adult mode when the rest of the gang from Klamath Falls caught us. The hike to Castle Crags is a killer! There's absolutely no rock at all until you've gained about 1500 feet up a steep, dusty trail. Getting the kids up was a challenge but we eventually arrived at the rocks. We didn't want to get on anything big so we found a small spire just above the trail with a bolt marking a short route. I climbed up and brought Jay up first. Everyone liked the first part: tree climbing to a hard move by the bolt. Jay did well and made it past the bolt and to a very exposed stance at the edge of the spire. It was pretty easy from there but Jay was bothered a bit by the exposure. On top, he didn't want to lower down without me so he waited for everyone else.

Rhea was next. The first part was fine but the exposure was too much for her and I had to lower her back down. Shay didn't make it as far - this climb was a bit hard for a small kid! Tim came up and we set up a rap down the back side. Jay came down with me - he loves descending while dangling from my butt.

Finally Marti, Paul, and Jenny arrived. Eric had already bailed out - he was hiking with Mark and Melanie on an easier trail. I took the three kids so Tim could climb with his wife, Jill. They all headed up to the first major rock (Six Toe I think) while I walked (actually, ran) down with the kids and went for ice cream. We found Eric about to leave with the Jones family so we reclaimed him while Mark and Melanie headed back to Klamath Falls. We played in the campground until everyone else eventually straggled back. The intended route was occupied so Paul, Marti, and Jenny tried another one but backed off after the first pitch. The Hattens climbed behind the other party which slowed them down a bit. Everyone found the climbing OK but not spectacular - maybe we should have hiked a little further and grabbed a better route. Tim and his family drove back to Oakland the next day. Tim was able to get away by himself a few days later and join us at Lover's Leap.

The next day we resolved to all stay together for one last adventure before Paul and Mark Jones had to leave. We went to Lava Beds Natl Monument and had a great time exploring the lava tubes. Mark's kids, Ben and Harry, did just fine in the dark caves. It was "Cool, Dude". Sadly, everyone but the Petersons had to drive back to Portland that night. After the rest of the group took off we managed to hike through a bunch more of the lava tubes before heading on down to Lassen.

Lassen was nice but there's not much to say. The kids liked the mudpots and hot pools. Eric whined because he had to hike 3 miles (round trip! Whoa! Child abuse!). Finally, off to Lover's Leap.

Long drive. Laundry in Reno. Great campground. And there's even daylight left! We forced poor Eric to join us on a family climb up a 5.4 just right of the Groove. Eric tried to lead the second pitch but got scared a little ways off the belay. He set an anchor and when I arrived it turned out to be bomber. He may not be brave enough to lead yet but he's figured out how the gear works. The crux was spectacular: pulling through a slight overhang on huge jugs. Jay climbed next to Marti and did really well except for a couple of long reaches (Lover's is like the Gunks: if you can't reach between the horizontal holds you're screwed). Great climb!

The next morning we were expecting Tim to show up (without family, unfortunately). After waiting a bit, Eric volunteered to watch Jay while Marti and I climbed the Groove (5.8). Good deal - Marti and I had a great climb and the kids behaved. When we returned, Tim had arrived. He had taken a wrong turn and ended up at Donner Summit - oops! So what now? Marti decided to talk the kids while Tim and I headed for Travellers, an official "50 classic" that I've already done twice.

After hiking up to the base of the route, our climb got off to an unpromising start when I found out I had left my shoes back in camp (I've never done thos before! No, never!). After contemplating doing the 5.9 in my tennies, I ran back to camp, arriving back at the base about half an hour later, totally wasted. But I still had enough energy to lead the first pitch (actually, the first two since I combined leads), leaving Tim to contemplate the infamous offwidth.

I should have learned to avoid this pitch by now but NOOOO. (This pitch is referred to as the "Donkey Dick" by a certain respected Yale professor). Tim went up. Tim thrutched. Tim slid back down. Tim thrutched some more. Tim managed to set a #9 hex by swinging it over his head and snagging a bomber placement. Emboldened, Tim slid off some more. He faced left. He faced right. He cursed. He whined. He backed off.

OK - so I've done this twice so now I have it wired. NOT. In a similar display of wimposity, I replicate Tim's thrutching, whining, cursing, and hanging helplessly on the rope. Finally I realize the problem: the hex sits in the only handhold. I aid up a bit, place another piece higher, and then pull out the hex. I've had it but the whole process left me wasted. I did the crux move but had to hang on the next piece. And the next. And the next. Finally, the climbing eased off and I was in the classic handcrack. Aside from a trip back down to reclaim some extra hand-sized gear there were no more problems. Tim followed cleanly but is pushing so hard that he leaves two hexes (and biners too!) in the crack as he fought up the crux.

I was pretty roasted - large gobie on the back of my shoulder! - and was happy to let Tim take the next lead. It's EASY! Go for it, Tim! Actually, it's super exposed and a bit pumpy (5.8) but Tim was my hero. One more real pitch: some easy but runout dike hiking and then on to the top for one more pitch. It's a fast walk down and Tim has chalked up another of the 50.

The next day, Tim took the kids while Marti and I did Corregation Corner (5.7). Since the base of this route is right next to Tim's hexes, I stopped over to clean them but a couple were about to do the pitch and really wanted to clip them. I gave them our campsite number and they returned the hexes later. Our route was great (no offwidth!). The second pitch unexpectedly leaves the back of the dihedral to a superb arete within the huge corner - a stellar pitch. On the third pitch I wandered too far left and end up repeating the top of Travellers - I'll have to go back and grab that last pitch someday.

Meanwhile, Tim supervised as Eric led Jay up a mini-route on the boulders near camp. Eric set good pro and belayed Jay well - Tim was impressed. When we returned, Marti took the boys to play in the river while Tim and I grabbed Bear's Reach. Another superb route - everything I've done at Lover's is excellent. Three pitches of 5.7. The "reach" is trivial - even Eric could have made it!

That evening, we relocated to Yosemite. Grandpa had just arrived and was staying in Lee Vining to meet us. He brought a new climber (fresh meat!), Brad, my (pseudo) nephew. Brad had just graduated from high school and was ready to start college in Colorado Springs soon. He hadn't climbed outdoors in years but, in ages passed, had bagged many classic climbs with us in the Connecticut area. His goal was to graduate from "weasel" (his ranking at the time) to something more glorious. Brad was ready to go when we reached Lee Vining so we traded the two kids for Brad and headed up to Yosemite.

Earlier, we had left a message for Lincoln and we hoped to have a campsite waiting. No such luck: Lincoln was on patrol when the message arrived and the campground was full. After wasting many hours inspecting all sorts of full campgrounds, we bedded down on the floor of the Best Western in Lee Vining. My dad is a very good sport about these things!

We had to start with something big. Something classic. On to Fairview Dome! Tim had never done the regular route - another 50 classics. I wanted to do something new so I left Marti with Tim and set off with Brad to check out Lucky Streaks (5.10b).

I had a lot of good reasons not to be on Lucky Streaks. Brad hadn't climbed (at least outside) in years. He had never led - I'd have to be in front the whole way. I was tired - the three days at Lovers Leap were a lot of work! I hadn't gotten enough sleep. I knew nothing about the route except the lines on the topo. I hadn't done any real 10's all summer. I hadn't brought a very big rack. I'm a wimp. But what the heck - the route has three stars and looks awfully impressive from the ground. Plus, it's that damn PG rating. After all, if the route is PG, I'm not going to die, right?? The regular route is really pretty easy and this is just a *little* bit harder, right??

Anyway, Brad and I stood at the base. Damn, that looks steep! And big! I decided to go light: food, guidebook, and water all remained at the base. Off to the first pitch: some 5.9 pussyfooting up slabs with occasional nuts in discontinuous cracks. Seemed just a bit runout for that PG rating. At least the pitch ended on a nice ledge.

Feeling better. Quality finger crack / face climbing, 5.9 again. Lots of pro - no reason for fear. I see a big ledge; the rack is getting a bit skimpy so I stop. Some more of the same gets me to the real top of the pitch, another good ledge with a bunch of rap slings.

OK, it's crux time. I can see the 5.10d straight up line. No, let's look for the 5.10a over on the right! At this point, the route is following an elegant finger crack to the left of a large arching dihedral. Here, they are only about 10 feet apart. Does the 10a route go all the way over to the dihedral? Dunno. I stepped right from the finger crack and reached high - big bucket! Cool! I threw a nut into the flake and contemplated the line. Lots of chalk leading back left into the original crack. Looks hard!! I mantled onto the flake and meditated.

Looks hard. I'm a wimp. Climb down. Climb back up. Where to go? I finally decided to ignore the copious chalk and step up and right toward the dihedral. I sunk the #2 camalot and become positively serene. Easy friction left to a flake in the crack. Hmmm - none of that seemed like 5.10a or even 5.9. Maybe I was cheating or something. Anyway, I was back on the route now. Fixed pin. Crux: no sweat! Lots of small wires fit in the crack. The topo had the dreaded "lb" next to the crack (I'm a lieback weenie) but it's really face climbing. Fun face climbing. Soon I was past the "lieback" and into the real crack. I ran out of gear and set up a hanging belay.

Brad followed with no problems. This was his first ever hanging belay but he coped. The next lead was really fun: a 5.10a finger crack with a move around a roof, leading to a good ledge. Good pro. Little did we know that we would be on the summit when we finally found another ledge big enough to sit on!

So now we had bagged all the 5.10 on the route. Time to go home! But no, not yet. The next pitch was a long crack climb. It was easier than before. Well protected. But I was getting a bit tired. I passed a bogus looking rap anchor and set another hanging belay.

Even without the topo along it was obvious that the route divides here. A nasty looking undercling leads left while the crack we were in thins out but continues straight up. I remembered the route dividing on the topo so it doesn't bother me much that I'm no longer following chalk.

I headed up; the crack thins (a little 5.9). There's a fixed nut. Then, the "Expando Flake": a big razor thin flake with no visible means of support. It's the only way, though, so I liebacked easily to its top where a single ratty sling recalls some nameless long ago epic. I trusted neither the sling nor the flake itself.

Above, a few more tricky moves led to the last gasp of the crack system. I placed a good nut and contemplated the future. We really wanted to be in the crack system 40 feet left of here. Between here and there lies an apparently unprotectable slab. The topo says this is 5.7 but I wasn't happy. The "hole" shown in the topo is about 15 feet above: a cylindrical affair that looks like the result of dynamite placed in the rock. It's full of bird shit or something and doesn't look like it accepts any pro smaller than a #4 big bro. PG my ass.

It was time to contemplate. After talking to my "inner chicken" I started downclimbing. Down to the Expando Flake. Down to the fixed nut. Here, I pull out a special biner: booty from long ago. An ancient Royal Robbins biner I once found that I've never really trusted. I leave this on the fixed wire and continued down the 5.9 with a toprope. Back at Brad's belay, I contemplated the traverse. Hmmmm - a truely wimpy leader would leave the rope running through the fixed nut (about 60 feet higher) and have a virtual toprope all the way across! Great idea. This proved to be a good thing since the undercling seemed way scary even with the toprope. 5.8 my ass. Or maybe I was just fried. Anyway, I set yet another hanging belay, brought Brad over, and we pulled the rope through the biner.

Meanwhile, a party coming up behind us decided to take my original line since we had the other way blocked. I led up yet another pitch of 5.9 crack. Good pro. Hurting feet. No ledges. Never too hard, never very easy either - the route just kept coming and coming. I set another hanging belay at an old bolt. Above looms yet another pitch. As I brought Brad up I heard cursing in an unfamiliar language: the leader of the other party was coming across the slab and he wasn't a happy camper. He sets a belay about 10 feet away and we start talking. He was Tom, from Poland, climbing with Tom, from Poland. He was not at all happy with the runout on the traverse - my inner chicken rejoiced at having guided me to the best route.

I made Tom an offer he couldn't refuse: he could pass us if he would haul us up the last pitch. What a deal! As Brad and I hang at our belay point with aching feet, Tom and Tom scurried quickly up the last pitch, trailing our rope. We tied in together at the end of the rope and climbed simultaneously. It's another great pitch: a second crack on the inside of the main one allows easy liebacking where we had expected more hand and foot jamming. We were so desperate to get off the climb we rocketed up the pitch in about 10 minutes. Unlike the regular route, this climb has no gradual finish with the climbing getting easier and easier. One minute you're pulling up the 5.8 crack, the next minute you're ready to start hiking down.

At the top we luxuriated in the feel of a flat ledge beneath our feet as we coiled the rope. After thanking Tom and Tom repeatedly (these guys are princes!!) we started staggering back to the base. They gave me back my old RR biner, mainly because they didn't like it either. Halfway down, we heard voices behind us: it was Marti and Tim, triumphant on regular route. As we hiked back, we swapped stories, enjoyed the view, smelled the flowers, and congratulated ourselves on a day well spent. Brad was promoted from "Weasel" to "Ferret, First Class".

Grandpa and the boys had been in the Valley. Crowded. Noisy. I'm not going there! Tim headed back to the bay area. Another Best Western bivy.

The next day was definitely going to have to be a rest day. Lee Vining was too expensive. It was Saturday so Yosemite would have been crowded. Lincoln was still on patrol. So off to Bishop.

We may have been be resting, but we still had to climb something. On to Owen's River gorge! This worked out well - Grandpa hiked in on the road with Marti and Jay while the hardcore climbers descended the climbers path. No crowds! Nothing but 4 and 5 star routes for us. Brad liked this sport climbing nonsense. He started out being a hard core leader on a 5.9 (Welcome to the Gorge). Jay did almost all of a 5.6 (Clip Jr.). We grabbed a 5.8 (Babushka) and hiked out. Eric was on strike; he says he heard a rattlesnake! That's enough - back to town.

The next day Jay and Grandpa went hiking while Marti, Brad, Eric, and I headed to the Buttermilks. Lots of fun - we toperoped some of the bigger boulders and even Eric did a climb. We soon had to leave and rejoin Grandpa though. Great place, no crowds in the summer season!

Next Brad and I had to climb on out own. Everyone else went to the Laws Museum (a pretty cool place - lots of old stuff) while went back to the Gorge. Brad led a 7 (High Seas), I led an 8 (Crowd Pleaser), and Brad led a very ballsy 9 (Abitirot).

After we rejoined the party, Grandpa took Eric while the rest of us headed back to Toulumne, this time with a campsite reserved. We arrived there around 7:30 and started setting up camp. But wait: there's time to climb! Brad's dumb enough to follow me and we headed for the Northeast Books (5.6) on Lembert.

In some ways, this was the high point of the trip for me. The sun was setting and the views were outstanding. I was "in the zone": we did the climb in two pitches with me basicly soloing on lead. The whole route took only an hour, camp to camp. Just enough light to find the descent. Brad was literally running up the pitches after me. We even scored some booty! Great way to finish the day.

Jay's big excitement of the day was losing his first tooth. Eric had lost one earlier in the week and now Jay finally lost one too - it made him feel vary grown up. He spent a lot of time walking around with this strange grin, designed to reveal the missing tooth. Jay was very worried about the tooth fairy - would she be able to get into the tent? Fortunately, the next morning Jay found a quarter under his pillow - I guess tooth fairies can handle high elevations and zipped tents pretty well.

As we were sitting in camp, minding our own business, up drove a car with Colorado plates. It was Dave Bush, the *CLIMBING GOD*! We hadn't seen Dave in over ten years - it took a few minutes to recognize him. Dave used to be the president of the U of A climbing club, the Cliffhangers. Dave had driven all the way from Colorado to get a last bit of climbing in before starting his job.

Dave is a lawyer, soon to be a genuine prosecuting attorney for the State of Colorado. But no murder cases for Dave yet: he's limited to misdemeanors. As Dave was fond of saying, "nothing big, just guys that expose their wang in public." From then on we were careful to point out all exposed wangs but Dave always declined to prosecute.

Eric was with Grandpa but the rest of us headed for Stately Pleasure Dome. Brad and Dave bagged South Crack while Marti and I took Jay up Eunuch (5.7). This starts with the "Hermephrodite Flake", a big semi-detached flake that you have to tunnel under. Although this pitch is only 5.4, it was a serious grunt for everyone except Jay, who supplied Marti with much unwanted advice as she wormed her way up. Jay thought it was pretty hilarious to be the one having the easiest time on a pitch.

Above the chimney were two good 5.7 slab pitches with plenty of bolts. Marti and I each took a lead and Jay ran up the slabs like a little lizard. Brad and Dave summited at the same time and we all hiked down together.

We met Eric at Tenaya Lake with Grandpa and they joined us for lunch. As we drove through camp, we spied Tim setting up his tent - back for more action! It was getting late in the day but Tim, Dave, and Brad headed for Cry In Time Again, a 5.9 classic on Lembert Dome. Marti and Jay wanted to relax so Eric and I took off on a father-son adventure. I drove down the road waiting for some piece of rock to get the Eric seal of approval. Much to my surprise, he pointed to Pywiack and said he wanted to climb there. Cool! We headed up to Needle And Spoon, a 10a friction route. I trust Eric's belay (on slabs at least) and he's quite good at friction so this seemed like a good idea. Unfortunately the approach involved a lot of very exposed traversing and my rack was mostly draws so Eric didn't get a very useful belay. We made it to the base of the route but the psychic damage was done. I led up to the third bolt and then Eric wanted to "try it out" before I committed to the rest of the pitch. OK - I lowered and Eric ran up the 5.9 slab with no problems. Still, he said he wanted to bail off so I decided not to push and head down with him. At least I was able to lower him down the bad part of the approach.

Back at the car, I told Eric he still owed me some climbing. Across the road was the Bunny Slopes, some easy friction territory. I had Eric lead a 5.6 bolted slab, Hot Crossed Buns. He did fine until he hit a 60 foot runout (on easier ground ...). Using good judgment, he traversed to another route, clipped a bolt, and had me finish it up.

We all headed to Lee Vining to eat dinner with Grandpa. After dinner, a shower, and a cribbage game (in which Eric trounced Grandpa). We arrived back in camp well after 11. As we were settling in we wondered how Brad had done on his big climb. Eventually, we looked in his tent and found it empty!! Heading over to the other campsite, Dave and Tim were also missing! Marti and I grabbed a light and ran as fast as possible to Lembart. As we walked to the base of the route we called out, wondering of they were forced to bivy on a ledge above. Eventually, we heard an answer from the trail behind us: there they were, hiking back down at midnight.

It seems that darkness hit them at almost at the top of the climb. They were only about 30 feet from the summit but they didn't see the new bolts leading up the last wall and the allegedly 4th class traverse off was too gripping to do in the dark. So they rapped off using a single headlamp. Brad didn't have a rappel device so he had to learn to set up a caribiner brake in the dark. It took a while (and some cams) but they eventually made it back alive. Marti and I were quite relieved that Brad made it back safely from his first epic. After some discussion, we awarded him the rank of "Apprentice Climber".

Since I wasn't headed to Denver later in the trip, I decided I should really spend some time with my Dad. Jay had spent the night with him in Lee Vining and I asked them to start up the Cathedral Lakes trail. Marti and Brad and Eric set of in search of Lincoln and the lost cams on Cry In Time while I went off to join Grandpa and Jay. Tim and Dave took off for Crest Jewel, aided by some of my finest beta. A late start (we all slept late after the epic) but I told them to Just Do It!

The hike to Cathedral Lake went well - Grandpa is still in good condition at 78 and had no trouble with doing 7 miles. Jay complained a little but was generally enthusiastic. He made a point of bagging boulders by the trail - definitely following in dads footsteps!

Meanwhile, Marti and Brad waited for Lincoln. They hoped to get on Cry In Time and maybe get Tim's cams back. A party got there ahead of them, though. Marti told them about the cams but we never saw them again. Eric bailed out to play gameboy (Pokemon! Pokemon!) in the car while Marti and Brad decided to go for the Northeast Books without waiting for Lincoln. They had a fine time swapping leads up the route and Brad got to try some trad leading.

After the hike I went in search of the elusive Ranger Lincoln and finally found him. Marti and Brad joined us for lunch but were ready to be mellow. Lincoln and I decided to be honchos and head for Needle and Spoon (10a). After being there with Eric the day before, the approach went fast and we roared up the route. I had the 5.9+ pitch and Lincoln got the 10a. This climb is well bolted and everything felt very casual. We took the final crack to the top and enjoyed the summit view before descending. I wanted more but Lincoln wanted free food (some sort of ranger pizza party ...) so he pointed out the area where Golfers Route (5.7) is as we drove back and told me to find a different partner.

Everyone was back in camp. Tim and Dave had decided to go on an epic instead of doing Crest Jewel. Rather than following a well traveled climbers path to the base of the route, they bushwhacked through manzinita and didn't arrive at the the climb until 3pm. I would have gone for it (it's only 10 pitches!) but they wimped out. For unknown reasons, they blamed my beta for this epic and were chanting "Must Kill Peterson" as they hiked back in disgrace. I argued that this was a simple case of incorrectly applied beta instead of bad beta and declined to feel bad about their adventure. Fortunately Dave hasn't sued me (yet).

Anyway, my hunt for climbing partners turned up only one: Brad. Although there was only an hour of light left, that was plenty of time for Golfers. At least it would have been if I had been able to find the route ...

We started in about the right place but Lincoln had my guidebook so I had to guess which line of bolts was the right one. I chose the shiniest bolts - a big mistake! The route I jumped on was some 10b or 10c that's not even in the guidebook. I pulled a small roof, clipped a couple of bolts, fell, whined, and backed off. Oh - the route must be over *there*! We were down to about 15 minutes of light but that's all we needed. Golfers is easy and fun: we're up and down in plenty of time to hike out without a headlamp.

It was now our Last day in Yosemite. Lincoln and I wanted to be hardcore. Tim and Dave headed for West Crack on Daff. Everyone else wanted to rest. Again. Did I stay and help break down camp? Nooo! Lincoln and I jumped on Cry In Time. Serious fun! Great climbing, well bolted, good belay ledges, and a spectacular direct finish that's not in the guidebook, probably about 10a. Next, we headed for Ciebola over on Medlicott. This is the "hardcore" dome - lots and lots of 11s, 12s, and 13s. We did about the only "easy" route there: a 10b. After a nice hike in, we spotted the route. Steep! Smooth! It was an absolutely featureless black streak on the wall. The first pitch was only 10a so I went for it.

The good news was that there was more pro than I expected - no problem sewing it up. The bad news was that my feet were seriously hurting. Too many small edges. Too much weight on too little rubber. Whatever. There was a final runout up a slab to the belay and I wimped out. Ranger Lincoln! Ranger Lincoln! Rescue me!

That was the story for the rest of the climb. Lincoln was the hero. I was the wimp. The next pitch was elegant, aesthetic, and completely brutal on my poor feet. Sustained pulling on tiny crystals - no ledges, no holds bigger than a pebble. Lincoln was a climbing god but I wasn't having fun anymore. Finally, I hit the traverse ledge and joined Lincoln at the top - time to go down!

I had assumed we would rap straight down to some unknown intermediate rap station. But Lincoln had other plans: hanging about a foot above the end of the rap rope (his special 63 meter line - don't try this at home, kids!) he made an El Cap style pendulum over to our previous belay. I'm not sure why the anchor straight below us wasn't good enough for Lincoln but what the heck!

As we hiked back, Lincoln talked about life as a ranger: investigating murders, recovering bodies, wrasslin bears, ... Well, actually it's more like long hikes, low pay, and endless touristos. Still, Lincoln did get to work on the big murder investigation earlier in the summer and was also around for the big glacier point rockfall. Lately he had been touring the backcountry, stomping out illegal fire rings and lecturing backpackers on proper food storage. In his opinion the bears are definitely a lot smarter than the tourists. He was also a genuine "climbing ranger" and spent a lot of time hanging out on the rocks, talking to climbers and inventorying climbing-related resource impacts.

When we returned to the car, Marti's car was there and a note directed us to Golfers again. Lincoln and I hung around chatting while Dave led Golfers. As we waited for another party to clear out of the way, Marti decided to be macho and started leading some damn 5.10 slab. Unfortunately, her macho ran out after the first bolt and nobody else wanted to take her place so we gave up on being hardcore and settled for just Golfers. Lincoln had climbed enough and headed back for his ranger residence while we made the long drive to Tahoe.

We opted for a cheapo motel in Tahoe and head for the rocks: Lovers Leap again. Brad and Dave were chasing the 50 classics - Travellers again - while I insisted that Eric had do a little bit of climbing with me. Grandpa, Marti, and Jay drove to Echo Lake for a short hike.

Eric and I headed for Pop Bottle - the easiest route on the main cliff. On the way in, we met Sully from the local gym - small world! There were some other parties ahead of us so we had to wait a bit. Since we were in no hurry, I had Eric start leading. He did fine but had enough about 20 feet up. I didn't even check his gear before he lowered down - when I got up there it was all bomber, even a tricam. I finished the pitch and then we did another one to a big ledge. The final pitch looked nice but Eric insisted he had had enough. Oh well - he hadn't complained too much. Cool route.

Back at the base, I decided to head over to Travellers and see how things were going. It was already midafternoon and they had just topped out the first pitch - what happened? Turns out they had gotten lost on the approach (Dave seems to be making this a habit). But they really liked the dirst pitch so instead of getting into an epic on the offwidth, they decided to climb the first pitch again with Brad leading. That was Brad's first hard trad lead. I then left to rejoin Eric and we played around a while on the boulders. Marti arrived and we took a long time dividing up gear - she was headed for Denver while I was going to Portland. Brad and Dave arrived; Brad is now an "Climbing Honcho". No problems leading a long 5.8 pitch. We all headed to Tahoe for a last dinner together then we split up for good.

Dave and I arrived back at camp with about an hour of daylight left. We ducked into a handy phonebooth and changed into our alter-egos: Climbing God (Dave) and Lead-O-Matic (me). On to Surrealistic Pillar (5.7). Dave and I literally ran up the route. Our war cry was "headlamps are for wieners!". Lots of fun! We were soon back in camp snoozing, having successfully avoided using artificial light.

The next morning at Lovers was bleak. Soon the rain began in earnest and we were outta there. We were worried about the weather at Castle Crags (our original plan) so we replanned and headed for Smith Rocks again. Rick Siedeman couldn't join us there but Zan and Kyle were on their way. It was a whole day of driving for Dave and I but what the heck.

Next morning, Dave was keen to climb - he had never been to Smith before and was impressed with how pretty an area this is. We were worried about the heat so we went over the pass to Monkey Face. We all did a 2 pitch 5.8, West Face Variation, up to the notch behind the final pillar. I was with Zan, Dave climbed with Kyle. Zan and I couldn't get anyone excited about aiding to the top on the Pioneer route so we headed over to Mesa Verde. Dave led an easy 5.10 clip up, Cosmos, and then we headed to Spiderman Wall. Dave and Kyle did Spiderman (5.7) while Zan and I ran up a bolted 5.7, In Harms Way. Next, we headed back to the other side but got caught in the rain while hiking. We had had enough for one day - time to relax a bit and hit the sack.

The last day of climbing. I was ready to get the trip over with: I was wasted, my toes ached, and I was ready for a short break. Instead of standing on more pebbles, we decided to go to some nice soft, smooth basalt: the Textbooks. Short routes, big fun. Dave and I did all the leading: we grabbed lots of 5.7 - 5.9 climbs: School's Out, Prom Night, Rage, Dunce Cap, The Virgin Slayer, and Big Man On Campus. As the sun finally hit us, I grabbed one last route, a 10c toprope: Little Bo Peep, and then I took off for Portland. Dave, Zan, and Kyle kept climbing but I waved goodbye and hit the road. I stayed with Mark Jones again (where I'm the "Cool Apple") and spent pleasant day at OGI getting some work done. Mark dropped me at the airport (thanks!!) and that was it.

Meanwhile, Marti and the boys had a good time going to Denver. Alastair let everyone crash on his floor in Salt Lake since all the motels were full. They visited Dinosaur. And finally, Eric and Jay got to do what they had been dreaming about the whole trip: sitting like vegetables in front of a screen playing computer games. Eric stayed an extra week in Denver but eventually we all made it back home. Another summer down the drain!