Some say that El Cap generates its own energy. When the evening sun is setting on the western face, highlighting its corners and roofs, the rock ignites a fire in people. Living here as a Climber Steward, I am starting to notice the palpable, contagious energy that surrounds a group as they prepare for their ascent.
Climbing walls takes lots of organization; the ritual of sorting gear and laying it all out on the ground is almost as important as the climb itself. For me, wall climbing is all about the process. There is something special in the methodical process of assembling food, water, and gear for a few days, lugging it all to the base of the route, fixing pitches, and working your way to the top pitch by pitch. In this era of pushes, ‘car to car’s, In-A-Days, Instagrams, and Snap Chats, it is refreshing to slow down for a few days and take a vertical backpacking trip-wall style.
On Monday, my partner Alexa and I chased around the Valley floor gathering up all sorts of aid climbing widgets we didn’t know how to use, preparing for our upcoming ascent of the classic El Cap route, Zodiac. Our strategy was to spend two nights up on the wall after fixing a few pitches first. Many people say that the first four pitches are a good “entrance exam” for the rest of the route, so we figured if we could get the ropes up successfully on fixing day, we would be able to manage the rest of the route. We fixed the first three with two 60 meter ropes and descended the talus back to the Valley floor to finish packing and rounding up the rest of our gear.
In this era of pushes, ‘car to car’s, In-A-Days, Instagrams, and Snap Chats, it is refreshing to slow down for a few days and take a vertical backpacking trip-wall style.
The next morning, after a fitful sleep filled with reoccurring and quite realistically boring dreams of the Black Tower pitch, I met Alexa at the base. I followed Alexa up the talus, teetering on boulders with the awkward weight of the haul bag and ledge on my back. Eventually, we arrived at our fixed lines and began the next phase of our gravity battle, the free-hanging jug. Sweating, tired, and with a refreshed memory of how tiring wall climbing actually is, we finally got to the top of pitch three with our bags in tow. Alexa cruised up the next few pitches to the base of the Black Tower where we switched leads. A few beaks and a little encouragement from my partner below got us to the bottom of the White Circle where we were to spend the night with a fellow traveler Jacques, from Luxemburg.
The day seemed to be a success, as we had ample time to sit on our ledge and take in the view of the setting sun on the dramatic black and white streaked walls to our left and the golden glory of the Dawn Wall, the craggy, black diorite of North America, and everything in between to our right. The air was calm and the inky, black sky was full of stars as I snuggled down into my sleeping bag with a feeling of contentment that comes from a day spent in a sea of granite.
The air was calm and the inky, black sky was full of stars as I snuggled down into my sleeping bag with a feeling of contentment that comes from a day spent in a sea of granite.
Now I am not much of an aid climber, but Zodiac has nearly won me over. The route is a beautiful line up varied, interesting stone; each pitch is engaging and unique. Our second day on the wall was a bit of a character builder for both of us. The East Face of El Cap is steep, and Zodiac is no exception. There are lots of hanging belays and steep jugging in the middle portion of the route. Alexa even logged some flight time on the classic Nipple Pitch, which added some excitement to the day. We made it to Peanut Ledge, a perfect nook three pitches from the top, with a bit of daylight to spare – another successful day on the wall. As I peered over the edge of our ledge, I could see the other climbers stacked below; a red ledge on the Shortest Straw, and Jacques on a small purple ledge farther down. It was something like a sleep over on the upper pitches of Zodiac that night; and the camaraderie of being up there together was perceptible as we all turned in for a final night on the wall. As I reflected on the day I appreciated how the slow nature of wall climbing provides an opportunity to share a unique experience with total strangers.
The final day on a wall is one of mixed emotion. Before topping out, I feel a mixture of nostalgia, excitement, sadness, and anticipation to be back in the meadow. There is a special moment that I like to acknowledge at that last belay, knowing that the journey is almost over. Entering the horizontal world again after a few days in the vertical comes with a little bit of culture shock. A lot of the enjoyment of being on El Cap comes from the striking contrast to life on the Valley floor. Experiencing the discomfort of a hanging belay or wrestling a giant haul bag onto a ledge and the simple freedom of biking under the shade of the pine trees in the same day provides a refreshing perspective on the different ways to experience this world.
Take Aways
- Climbing season in the Valley has arrived!! The first weeks of September temperatures were perfect on El Cap. There was a breeze and a nip to the air that felt a lot like autumn.
- The first four pitches can be fixed with two 60 m ropes.
- A 30-foot lower-out line and a belay seat are both nice to have on Zodiac.
- At the moment there fixed gear on the route kept us to a few taps with the hammer on a couple beak placements.
- On popular routes, its nice to befriend the other climbers on the route; you may be spending a lot of time together and even share some bivys.
