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Yosemite

PROTECT: Amity Warme and a YOSAR Climbing Ranger Weigh In on The Yosemite Credo

Its another Yosemite episode! And with some of the most in-the-know climbers, pro Amity Warme and Climbing Ranger Jesse McGahey, who weigh in on what’s been happening in Yosemite, both climbing wise, and in terms of community discussions about the future of climbing ethics and style there.

In this episode, we get to know crusher Amity Warme, and her perspectives on going ground-up on El Cap, how she’s recently been toeing the line between pushing her limits versus being in over her head, and how she views her role in the climbing community. We also chat about her ascent of Book of Hate (a 13d heinous stem corner ) and Pineapple Express (which is the fully free version of El Nino) last fall.

We also have Yosemite Climbing Ranger Jesse McGahey back on the pod, and chat about what’s been going on in Yosemite recently regarding rising temperatures, recent accidents due to using technology, the origins of the new Yosemite Climber’s Credo, and how a local climbing community came together to agree on shared values and guidelines. Amity also weighs in on the Yosemite Credo, and why she believes in the Credo and wants to help lead the way on the best practices for climbing in this iconic location.

Dive in to hear about some crucial conversations happening in one of the hubs of the climbing community.

CLIMB: Babsi Zangerl's Secret to Her Exceptional Yosemite Resume

"I like to suck" Babsi says...and this mentality means she's constantly trying climbing styles and skills that she's bad at. And with that sense of curiosity, she acquires a breadth of mastery that is evident in her Yosemite accomplishments...

In many ways, Babsi Zangerl has flown under the radar here in the United States. She doesn’t like to brag—she just wants to climb hard. But her dedication to climbing has resulted in an astonishing Yosemite resume. She has 6 free ascents of El Cap to her name, including the first female free ascents of Zodiac, El Nino, and Magic Mushroom. In this interview, we talk about some of these iconic climbs, what inspires her and her goal-setting process, how she taught herself to crack climb in Indian Creek so she could climb in Yosemite, the magic duo that is her partnership with Jacopo Larcher, and her perspective on the ground-up ethic of big wall climbing. She also admits to why she’s been avoiding the Monster Off-Width pitch and gives us a hint of her ambitions for future Yosemite trips. Dive into this episode to hear from one of the most accomplished modern Yosemite climbers—and honestly, she’s just getting started.

Fixed Anchors: What's Next?

A Brief Update on What’s Next When it Comes to Fixed Anchors in Wilderness

Photo by Sterling Boin.

The climbing community is collectively holding its breath while we wait to find out what the U.S. Forest Service and the National Park Service are going to do with their proposed regulations on fixed anchors. Now that the public comment period is over, and the agencies are categorizing, and reviewing the thousands of comments, we wait. The gravity of these proposed regulations is not lost on any of us, and we want the agencies to take their time and appropriately consider the issue from all angles.

As we wait, many of you are wondering, “What’s next?” There are a few different paths this issue can take. After reviewing the public comments, the agencies could implement the regulations as written, making no changes at all. The agencies could consider the specific issues the public noted and modify the regulations. The agencies could do nothing and could delay implementation pending further consideration of the issue.

One move the agencies could take, which the AAC hopes they strongly consider, is a committee-based resolution. Utilizing the Federal Advisory Committee Act (FACA), negotiated rulemaking process, or similar collaborative process, an appointed committee could tackle this complicated and nuanced issue head on. The committee could consist of agency representatives, wilderness advocates, climbing advocates, and any other appropriate groups, and would address fixed anchors and their usage in Wilderness. The AAC, Access Fund, Outdoor Alliance, AMGA, Wilderness Society, and many others made this recommendation to the agencies in our public comments and believe it to be a viable option for the agencies to address the proposed regulations through a collaborative process. The AAC is working to activate our volunteer network and climbing advocacy volunteers towards sharing their own thoughts on the potential of the FACA process.

In the interim, the AAC will communicate with the agencies, land managers, and legislators and keep the climbing community informed. If this issue is important to you, continue to contact your legislators and tell them why it matters. Stay tuned!

EDUCATE: Hazel Findlay on Yosemite, Magic Line, and the Theory of Flow

We sat down with the master of climbing mindset, Hazel Findlay. Hazel has made many significant free ascents of El Cap, and is one of the very few to climb the storied single pitch trad test piece, Magic Line. In this episode of the podcast, we talk with Hazel about her history with Yosemite, the projecting process for Magic Line, and of course, tips and tricks for building a strong mind. She shares some of her best insights about finding flow; a new concept that compliments flow, called clutch; first steps towards building a personal sending philosophy; and even a few practical exercises you can put into practice right now to start working on your headgame. And of course, how this all got applied during her own projecting process for Magic Line, because Pro’s struggle with headgame too!

The AAC's Official Stance on the Proposed Fixed Anchor Guidance from the NPS and USFS

Photo by Sterling Boin.

Thanks to the diligent and extensive research and work by our policy director, Byron Harvison, the AAC has submitted the following public comments to the National Park Service (NPS) and United States Forest Service (USFS) respectively, about their proposed fixed anchor guidance in Wilderness Areas, on January 30th, 2024. Read the full statements by clicking each button.


An Excerpt:

“The AAC would like the National Park Service (NPS) and United States Forest Service (USFS) to adopt guidance which affirms that fixed anchors are not installations prohibited by the Wilderness Act and allow agency land managers to administer their areas in a similar manner with what had been established under NPS Director’s Order #41. In lieu of publishing such guidance, the AAC would ask that the NPS and USFS convenes a committee pursuant to the negotiated rulemaking process, or similar collaborative process, in order to address the issue of fixed anchors in Wilderness and implement guidelines following a committee report. The AAC reiterates that the MRA process is not only a technically incorrect tool for the evaluation of fixed anchors, but cannot be practically implemented due to agency underfunding and limited staffing, and such a process will inevitably lead to management by moratorium.

“The AAC will remain committed to instilling the ethos of maintaining wilderness character, utilizing the best low-impact climbing techniques and practices, and staunchly supporting appropriate recreation in Wilderness. The AAC is ready and willing to assist the NPS and USFS to deliver on their dual mandate of conserving Wilderness characteristics while also ensuring the benefit and enjoyment of the Wilderness for the broader public.”

Cathedrals of Wilderness

Three First Ascents from the Historic Roots of Wilderness Climbing

By Hannah Provost

Photo by Sterling Boin.

“ Wilderness areas shall be devoted to the public purposes of recreational, scenic, scientific, educational, conservation, and historical use.”
— 4.3(b) of the Wilderness Act, 1964

With much ado about whether the NPS and USFS will prohibit fixed anchors in Wilderness areas, the AAC thought we’d lean into one of our strengths—the immense amount of climbing history at our fingertips, thanks to nearly 100 years of documenting climbing through the American Alpine Journal and the AAC Library. Climbers have been utilizing and advocating for the responsible and thoughtful use of fixed anchors (including pitons, slings, and bolts) in what are now designated Wilderness areas since before the passing of the Wilderness Act in 1964. These stories from before Wilderness as we know it shows that climbers were thinking with careful judgment about the wilderness experience, and sparingly using fixed gear—if it was in fact crucial for the ascent or descent at all. Since then, recreation, including climbing, has been a major tenet of what the Wilderness Act aims to protect. The question is: how do fixed anchors fit into that commitment moving forward? And how do Wilderness climbing’s roots inform that future?

Check out the climbs below to get a sense of the roots of Wilderness climbing.

Check out this map, powered by onX, which features Mountain Project data in conjunction with Wilderness Area boundaries, to help visualize how climbing across the country is impacted by this discussion.

Take Action: Share Your Voice on the Proposed Wilderness Fixed Anchor Guidelines

From the 1963 American Alpine Journal. Photos by Tom Frost, courtesy of North American Climbing History Archive.

The Salathé Wall, Yosemite Valley

Designated Wilderness in 1984

3500 ft (1061 m), 35 pitches, VI 5.9 C2, Robbins-Pratt-Frost, 1961


One of  the longest routes on El Cap—and full of infamous wide cracks and ledges to bivvy on, The Salathé Wall is one of the iconic climbs in the world. The route has you balancing up the Free Blast, and shimmying up chimneys until you’re climbing the impressively steep headwall that makes everyone gape at El Cap. If you’re a badass, you can free it at .13b. But in 1961 Royal Robbins, Chuck Pratt, and Tom Frost were just excited to get up the thing, placing minimal fixed gear. 

From the 1963 American Alpine Journal. Photo by Tom Frost, courtesy of North American Climbing History Archive.

In Royal Robbins’ 1963 report for the American Alpine Journal (AAJ), in which he recounts the first ascent done in 1961 and the first continuous ascent done in 1962, Robbins grapples explicitly with the bolting choices he and his team made as first ascensionists. Reflecting on the first continuous ascent, Robbins writes: “Tom [Frost] skillfully led the difficult section of the blank area where we had placed thirteen bolts the previous year. The use of more bolts in this area had been originally avoided by some enterprising free climbing on two blank sections and some delicate and nerve-wracking piton work. It would take only a few bolts to turn this pitch, one of the most interesting on the route, into a ‘boring’ walk-up.” Robbins and his peers were invested in finding those moments of “enterprising free climbing,” where they had to get creative and grit their teeth. Throughout his career, Robbins would have a lot of ambivalence about bolts—Salathé is a perfect example of that careful balance.

Though not directly or explicitly linked with his stance on fixed gear, it’s notable that Royal’s account of the continuous ascent of Salathé is intertwined with soulful reminiscing about nature. Robbins and his team considered Yosemite a special kind of remote nature, well before El Cap got a Wilderness designation with a capital W. Robbins ended his Salathé report: ”We finished the climb in magnificent weather, surely the finest and most exhilaratingly beautiful Sierra day we had ever seen…All the high country was white with new snow and two or three inches had fallen along the rim of the Valley, on Half Dome, and on Clouds Rest. One could see for great distances and each peak was sharply etched against a dark blue sky. We were feeling spiritually very rich indeed as we hiked down through the grand Sierra forests to the Valley.” This experience of vastness—of feeling the smallness of humanity within the quietude of nature, and that such experiences are enriching to the soul—is at the heart of what the NPS and USFS are trying to preserve, and which climbers like Robbins and all those who have followed him up El Cap have deeply loved about these places. 

Layton Kor on the first ascent of The Diagonal, 1963. Photo from Kor’s book, Beyond the Vertical, photographer unknown.

The Diagonal, Black Canyon of the Gunnison 

Designated Wilderness in 1976

2000’ (606m), 8 pitches, V 5.9 A5, Kor-McCarthy-Bossier, 1963

The Diagonal is in some ways an odd route to include here, because although it was important at the time, and excellent tales have been told about this first ascent, this route is rarely climbed today. It has the distinction of half a star on Mountain Project, and is known for the boldness required—which is particularly important to note in an area that already favors the bold. But we’re including it here precisely because of the climb’s historic nature, and how the first ascensionists—the magic team of Layton Kor, Jim McCarthy, and Tex Bossier—have articulated their thoughts on fixed anchors. 

As a historic climb, The Diagonal contains multitudes. Layton Kor, who was the driving force behind the first ascent, was certainly known to be a singular kind of person. There was no one quite like him. In Climb!, his contemporaries describe this towering figure in awed terms: “Of his more forceful characteristics, those who knew Kor well during his climbing years say that he frequently exhibited the qualities of a man possessed. A driving inner tension gnawed at him. His way of escaping from this sensation was to be active in a way which totally occupied his mind and body. His climbs, pushed to the limit of the possible, served this function well.” When Kor legendarily quipped, staring up at the crux pitch on The Diagonal, that he wasn’t a married man, and perhaps he should take Jim McCarthy’s lead for that reason, behind the glint in his eye was that tension and drive. Kor did take the lead on the “horror pitch,” taking six and a half hours to complete it—and it’s still noted as one of Kor’s hardest leads in his career. After all, the team was trying for glory—attempting to find Colorado’s first grade VI, though it would turn out to be another grade V. It remains an iconic moment in climbing’s rich history of contemplating and pushing past our agreed upon limits. 

Bossier indicated, in Kor’s book Beyond the Vertical, that the boldness that would come to characterize the climb was due in part to an intentional philosophical stance that the team made about the restrained use of fixed gear. Bossier writes: “The two major ethical dilemmas of the day were expansion bolts, and siege vs. alpine style ascents. We had taken oaths that the first grade six in Colorado deserved our commitment to a classic ascent. Despite knowing that we would pass through bands of rotten rock, we planned not to degrade our attempt with unnecessary bolting or extensive bolting.”

This sense of committing to good ethics and terms of engagement with the landscape is the backbone of the American idea of Wilderness, and embedded in the Wilderness Act, which defines Wilderness as “untrammeled,” “primeval,” and “undeveloped” landscapes, in which humanity is just a visitor. Though Kor, McCarthy, and Bossier weren’t meditating on nature in those explicit terms, their ascent too is wrapped in high-minded reflection on immersion in natural landscapes. After their wet bivvy, nature brought about a brush with awe that is so often what we seek in great, vast, wild adventures: “Next morning, as light became perceptible, we were engulfed in a dramatic whirlwind of dancing clouds. Shafts of light shone vertically upwards from the depths of the Canyon, while other masses swirled and skipped in wave patterns. We sat on our perches awed as light beams and rainbows mingled with mist. They were below us. They were with us—we could reach out and touch them. The clouds died as the power of the sun burned through and we began to take stock.”

No doubt waking up to this kind of light show—their position in the midst of it only possible because of this unique terrain—was part of the transformative experience of this climb. Bossier’s reflections demonstrate again that just as climbers of this time period were grappling with the appropriate boundary for the responsible use of fixed anchors, they were likewise attuned to how the landscapes they were climbing in shaped their experience. 

Topo of D1, the first ascent of The Diamond, featured in the September 1960 issue of Trail and Timberline. AAC Library Collection.

D1, The Diamond, Rocky Mountain National Park

Designated Wilderness in 2009

1,010 ft (308 m), 8 pitches, V 5.7 A4, Kamps-Rearick, 1960

Though climbing lore often focuses on tales of breaking the rules and going against the grain, there has been a long history of climbers working within land agency regulations in order to gain sustainable access. The story of The Diamond of Longs Peak, one of the most sought-after walls in the country, is one such example. According to the recounting of the first ascent, published in the 1961 AAJ: “In 1953 a party organized by Dale Johnson of Boulder announced its intention of attempting an ascent of this wall, but was refused permission by the National Park. Since then the Diamond has been ‘off limits’ to climbers. Being thus restricted from the climbing activity going on elsewhere in the country, it gradually assumed the distinction of being the most famous unclimbed wall in the United States.” So when Robert Kamps and David Rearick received permission from RMNP to attempt to climb The Diamond in August of 1960, all eyes were on them. 

September 1960 issue of Trail and Timberline, featuring an image from the first ascent of The Diamond. Cover photo by Al Moldvay of The Denver Post. From the AAC Library Collection.

The draw of the Diamond was certainly a sense of ultimate challenge. The altitude and remoteness of this striking wall was a key part of the adventure. Today, D1 is often overlooked, with more accessible lines like The Casual Route and Pervertical Sanctuary getting the most mileage, and lines like Ariana getting the most attention at the 5.12 grade. However, Mountain Project whispers suggest that well-rounded Diamond climbers consider it the best route on the Diamond. So unlike Kor’s The Diagonal, it’s historic and good climbing. 

Rearick and Kamp’s three day ascent “was one more dent in the concept of the impossible.” Like many Diamond climbers even today, they battled the weather and a waterfall dripping on their belays and bivvy. But this encroachment of water seemed to be a reminder that though they may be conquering the wall, they were but a small creature in a wilderness that was ultimately untamable. Like so many other climbers recreating in such extreme natural environments, the ascent was inextricably linked to moments of sublime quiet. “The night was clear and we watched the shadows from the moon creep stealthily along the slope of Lady Washington below us and across the shimmering blackness of Chasm Lake. We both managed to doze for a few hours. Since the temperature stayed above freezing, the waterfall continued all night, occasionally splashing us. The altitude at this point was about 13,700 feet.”

 Rearick and Kamps placed 4 expansion bolts in total—by hand, of course, which continues to be a requirement for new or replaced bolts in Wilderness—when all other ways of securing a belay were exhausted. This method and their tools had been explicitly reviewed and approved by the National Park beforehand, as a condition of their permission to attempt this famous feature. This incredibly important ascent was just the beginning of a revolution in climbing, as Godfrey and Chelton recount: “the concept of the impossible was seized roughly by the scruff of the neck and shaken up so as to be unrecognizable.”

***


As these three first ascents demonstrate, the roots of Wilderness climbing is often tied up with philosophies of restraint in use of fixed gear, spiritual connection with nature, pushing the limits of the sport, and prioritizing boldness without being unsafe.

That was Then…This is Now…

Much of the discussion around fixed anchors in Wilderness within the climbing community has simplified and erroneously associated the concept of fixed anchors with grid bolting or sport climbing. Some people are kicking around the idea that the only climbing that should happen in Wilderness is the purest kind, like “back in the day”—suggesting that absolutely no fixed gear was used “back in the day.” The history of these iconic Wilderness climbs shows that this narrative is full of misunderstandings. Even when the best climbers of the day refused to “degrade” their ascents with unnecessary bolting or fixed gear, they did apply these tools when necessary for safety. Evidently, Wilderness climbing’s roots lie in a philosophy of responsible and restrained use of fixed anchors to facilitate meaningful experiences and inspire advocates of Wilderness. Now the question is, what is Wilderness climbing’s future? 

You can help decide. Share your thoughts on the proposed fixed anchor guidance from the NPS and USFS before January 30, 2024. 

Resources:

This article was only possible thanks to the depth of resources from the American Alpine Club Library and historic records from the American Alpine Journal. Want to delve into our extensive historic climbing archives and guidebook library? Check it out. 

“The Salathé Wall.” American Alpine Journal. 1963.

“Salathe Wall.” Mountain Project.

Beyond the Vertical by Layton Kor

“The Diagonal.” Mountain Project.

Climb! Rock Climbing in Colorado by Bob Godrey and Dudley Chelton

Royal Robbins: The American Climber by David Smart

The Black: A Comprehensive Climbing Guide to Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park by Vic Zeilman

“The First Ascent of the Diamond, the East Face of Longs Peak.” American Alpine Journal. 1961.

“D1” Mountain Project.

CLIMB: Tom Evans and Two Decades of Reporting on El Cap Climbing

Tom Evans on El Cap back when he was climbing it instead of reporting on it.

New episode of the American Alpine Club Podcast with legend Tom Evans:

Tom Evans is the creator of the El Cap Report. He started out taking photos of all the climbers he’d see on El Cap, and got tired of answering questions about who was doing what and how X ascent was going. So he innovated. He started posting a daily report, accompanied by his photos, of what was happening on El Cap during the main Yosemite climbing season—and he since has crafted a legacy of 22 years of documenting “the center of the universe”—El Cap climbing. With his recent retirement from the El Cap report, we decided we wanted to celebrate this legacy, and hear all his thoughts on the climbing history he’s documented, witnessing accidents and rescues, what’s next in El Cap climbing, the impact of social media in the Valley, and what motivated him in the first place to create the El Cap report. Dive in to get to know one of the legendary names from the El Cap bridge scene—a conversation just for you, unique in all the world!

Tom Evans in Action: Climbing and Documenting the “Center of the Universe”

Show Notes:

Explore The El Cap Report

Hear More Yosemite Stories at the AAC 2024 Annual Benefit Gala

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AAC and Yosemite National Park Sign General Agreement and Formalize Partnership 

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Photo by AAC member Dawn Kish

By Byron Harvison, AAC Director of Policy and Gov’t Affairs

On August 2, 2023, the American Alpine Club entered into a General Agreement with the Yosemite National Park Service with the goal of supporting and promoting climbing in Yosemite Valley. This new formalized partnership is built upon a strong foundation of working together for decades—including on projects like the Yosemite Big Wall Permitting Program, Climber Coffee, sponsoring Yosemite Facelift, and the United in Yosemite festival. This opportunity will allow the AAC to assist the climbing management program at YNPS with public outreach, offer subject matter expertise on climbing stewardship matters, and identify other projects and services which could benefit the Park and climbing community—building on the long established and well-loved climbing iniatives that will continue to exist in the Park.

The AAC has a long history of supporting climbing within the Park and working with Park staff to educate climbers on issues related to climbing in the Park, identifying areas of historic significance, such as Camp 4, and promoting volunteerism. This General Agreement represents the AAC taking on a more formal role. At a time when visitorship of Yosemite National Park, and most National Parks, is at an all time high and park budgets are not being increased to meet the demand, relationships such as this can help bridge the gap.

Key among the intended responsibilities of the Club is the continued refinement and encouragement of responsible climbing practices and stewardship of the climbing areas and infrastructure supporting climbing activities within the Park. This could include working with the Park on impact mitigation projects, maintenance, and construction of climbing related structures or trails, and coordinating and informing volunteers to assist with those projects when appropriate. The Club will assist in the distribution of safety information, closures, and informing the community regarding Park-specific regulations. This work will also include educating climbers on the ins-and-outs of the recently  instituted Big Wall Permitting Program, which is a free self-registered permit that is required of all climbers overnighting on big wall climbs. Park staff will look for the AAC’s input on climbing-ethics related issues such as how to address gear-dumping, fixed lines, and storage on top of climbs for top-down attempts on the walls as opposed to embracing the ground-up ethos.

The AAC worked closely with the YNPS staff on the Agreement to outline the areas the Club can have the most impact on the climbing community and the Park, and coordinate work with other organizations such as Yosemite Conservancy and the Yosemite Climbing Association. We greatly appreciate the attention the climbing management program at YNPS has given this matter, and the enthusiastic support from Yosemite National Park. We are thoroughly excited about the opportunities this historic agreement makes possible!

Learn More from our Interview with Head Yosemite Climbing Ranger Jesse McGahey


For Media Enquiries

American Alpine Club Contact, Vice President of Marketing and Communications
Shane Johnson, [email protected] or 303-384-0110

Yosemite National Park Media Contact
Scott Gediman, [email protected] or (209)742-3519

PROTECT: A Yosemite Climbing Ranger Weighs in on Style, Sustainability, and Safety

In this episode, we sit down with Head Yosemite Climbing Ranger Jesse McGahey to talk about the state of Yosemite climbing. We dig into what a climbing ranger’s job is like on a daily basis, and the knowledge Yosemite climbers should know that could prevent many accidents. We discuss the new splitter near Super Slide, as well as the need for, and initial success of the Big Wall Permit. We also cover an evolving conversation around style on El Cap and other classic big walls in the Park; camping and parking issues, and so much more.

Yosemite climbing has been such an inspiration for the climbing world, but in its current iteration, that experience is at risk. The AAC is excited to be partnering with Yosemite National Park to preserve that climbing experience for climbing generations to come. Learn more about these challenges to Yosemite, and how we will be partnering with the Yosemite Climbing Rangers, in this episode!

Behind the Scenes of United in Yosemite

Dig into the details of the first ever United in Yosemite event, hosted by The American Alpine Club (through our Climb United program), Yosemite National Park, and the Yosemite Conservancy. This climbing festival was an intentional space created to celebrate the diverse voices of climbing—to make sure the big walls are the only intimidating thing about this legendary climbing location, not the culture or community. Dive into the photos and participant reflections about the event below.

For all current United in Yosemite information click here.

Behind the Scenes of United in Yosemite

CONNECT: United in Yosemite, with Genevive Walker and Thomas Bukowski

The AAC is super excited to be co-hosting a brand new climbing festival this summer that centers BIPOC, LGBTQ+ and adaptive climbers in Yosemite Valley, called United in Yosemite. In this episode, we sat down with Genevive Walker and Thomas Bukowski, who are each deeply embedded in the climbing world, helping create more inclusive climbing experiences, and are guides who will be running clinics at United in Yosemite. Our conversation covers what climbing means to them, the obstacles they face as guides, why United in Yosemite matters, and the magic these kinds of events can generate. Listen in to get a sneak peek of what to expect from the event and get a glimpse behind the scenes of the guiding world.

CONNECT: Women at the Heart of Yosemite Climbing, with Lauren DeLauney Miller

Episode 06

CONNECT: Women at the Heart of Yosemite Climbing, with Lauren DeLauney Miller

Ruth Dyar Mendenhall finding a corpse on Washington Column. Liz and Royal Robbins establishing the famous Nutcracker Suite. Lynn Hill climbing hard aid climbs on El Cap for a change, and Steph Davis free climbing the Salathé Wall….We sat down with AAC member and writer, Lauren DeLaunay Miller, to talk about her new book, Valley of Giants: Stories From Women At The Heart of Yosemite Climbing, which contains all these stories and more from the deep well of Yosemite’s untold history. In this episode, we geek out about Yosemite, discuss what it’s like to talk to your climbing heroes, and discern the role of women in the famous Yosemite climbing generations: The Golden Age, The Stonemasters, and The Stone Monkeys. Dive into this episode to learn about these women’s stories, and what Lauren learned as she put together this groundbreaking book.

You can buy Valley of Giants: Stories From Women At The Heart of Yosemite Climbing here: www.mountaineers.org/books/books/va…emite-climbing

CLIMB: Soloing El Cap With Adrien Costa

That’s right. You can now take a deep dive into your favorite American Alpine Club content via your headphones, car stereo, and more. The drive to work—or your favorite hang board routine—just got way more interesting.

Episode 02

CLIMB: Soloing El Cap with Adrien Costa, Catalyst Grant Winner and Adaptive Climber

Adrien Costa never imagined he would be looking up at El Cap, ready to put in his own attempt on the wall, with one leg of flesh and bone and the other made of metal and hydraulics. In this episode, the AAC interviews Adrien about his journey from pro cyclist to daring adaptive climber with a taste for soloing, and digs into the details of his proud rope solo ascent of El Cap funded by an AAC Catalyst grant.

“That’s all anyone really wants is just to be seen for who you they are, and not to be judged by the way they look or the things they struggle with. Cause at the end of the day, we all struggle with things, just some struggles are more visible than others.”
— Adrien Costa

Episodes will typically fall into four categories: Climb; Protect; Educate; Connect.

Climb episodes will be just that—about climbs big and small, and the things they make us realize, in conversation with AAC community members.

Protect episodes will dive into the nuances of policy and advocacy issues that matter most to climbers.

Educate episodes will span the logistics of safety and accidents, as well as the history of climbing and how it can inform our present.

Connect episodes will cover the social side of our climbing community, including important conversations about equity and inclusion that have emerged from our work with the Climb United initiative.

Check back here, the AAC Stories Archive, to find the latest episodes and show notes, and subscribe to the American Alpine Club Podcast at your favorite podcast source: Soundcloud, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and Google Podcasts.

A Trip To Remember: A Story From the Catalyst Grant

Adapted from the 2021 trip report written by Adrien Costa.

The Catalyst Grant awards funds to individuals and teams who face barriers in accessing the climbing community and identify with an underrepresented group.


I free-wheeled down the tree-lined road, shaking out the legs that had just taken me up and over Tioga Pass from Lee Vining on yet another 5+ hour training ride. Up high, much higher than the tallest pines, loomed the world’s most famous granite wall. And up on El Cap, one could make out tiny dots stubbornly inching their way up, giving massive scale to the wall. At night, the dots turned into a constellation of stars, almost indistinguishable from the night sky. How I longed to be one of those dots, to feel the air and the wind below my feet, to see the trees in the meadow below as little crowns of broccoli, to have no concerns more pressing than scaling this cliff. But I had other things to do with my life. It was only 2014. My dream of becoming a professional road cyclist was turning closer to reality every day. All I had to do was keep pedaling. This improbable, half-insane climbing desire could find a resting place, for now, in the deepest corners of my brain.  

Seven years later, I whipped my truck into the small pullout below the boulder and scree field leading up to El Cap’s shorter, but ridiculously steep, southeast face. The clock reads 4:46 AM. I step out and stand on one leg of bone and flesh, the other of metal and hydraulics. I am no longer a professional road cyclist. I no longer have two legs. Looking up at the dark  outline of El Cap, I wonder whose life I am now living. I sure as hell never expected mine to look like this.  

The universe has this rather bothersome tendency to remind us that the only constant is  change, the only sure thing is that nothing is certain. I learned this the hard way. Us humans fight this, often subconsciously. We try to fight change by controlling everything we can, including our accomplishments and our material possessions. It can quickly become dangerously difficult to parse the imagined from the real, the tangible from the illusion.

I felt that I needed an adventure to shake myself out of the daze of daily life I found myself trapped in. I wanted to see if I could find a sliver of peace or wisdom up there. But I mostly just wanted to simplify my existence. It would be just me, my gear, and this rock. No illusions. Only, as I was about to find out, a whole lot of work.  

Climbing a full-length, Grade VI route on El Capitan, by myself, was my big goal for the second half of my rock climbing season. I see and feel, on a daily basis, how much assumption goes on in the climbing world around ability and disability. I wanted to shatter this paradigm; to prove that, with the right support, anybody can accomplish anything they put their heart and soul into. I wanted this climb to be a call for much-needed inclusion and open-mindedness in our climbing community.  

For me personally, this climb represented a big stepping-stone in my climbing, moving towards more committing, more involved multi-day objectives as I seek to continue developing myself as a versatile climber, comfortable in all media.  

Zodiac, Adrien’s original plan, was too wet.

I finished shuttling my two loads to the base just as the sun was rising. My original plan was to climb Zodiac (C3), a 16-pitch route of moderate, clean aid that has frequently been referred to as a good introduction to “real aid” on El Cap. But a recent storm had soaked the first few pitches of the route, and I didn’t want to start a 4-day odyssey soaking wet. Luckily, I had a topo and gear for the nearby Tangerine Trip (5.9 C3+), which appeared steep enough to be completely dry. Between its consistent overhang, a huge traverse on the fifth pitch, and the fact that this route sees a bit less traffic than Zodiac, it was all starting to feel much more committing, and exciting, than my original plan.

I decided to start the trip via the first pitch of Lost in America, shown as “C3F Bad Fall” in the  topo, which proved to be one of the cruxes of the route. I built my first anchor, cloved off a couple pieces low, and started up the pitch. My last piece of good protection was only 20 feet off the ground was well aware that blowing any piece on this first pitch could result in a ground fall. Very gingerly I inched my way up, breathing a huge sigh of relief upon regaining moderate terrain. I looked at my phone and realized that close to two hours had gone by. The next couple leads took some time as I got back in the rhythm of “real” aid climbing. I got my ropes fixed to the top of pitch 4, and having found a small ledge system below, decided to bivy there. It was a bit demoralizing to be just a couple hundred feet off the ground after a very long  day of work, but I set my alarm for early and tried to enjoy the opportunity to rest.  

The next morning, I broke down the portaledge, sipped my coffee, pooped in a homemade WAG bag, and jugged and hauled to my high point. Here, I finally joined Tangerine Trip proper for the committing 160-foot leftward traverse pitch. The lead was fine, albeit long, but rapping the lead line, and then cleaning the pitch, was as demanding as leading itself. The next couple pitches went well, but still slower than I would’ve liked.  

I forced down some plain ramen for dinner, and was stoked to be able to hang my prosthetic leg with me inside my small portaledge’s fly to charge its battery for the night. This is something I have to keep tabs on during any overnight adventure, and is something I have paid the cost of being complacent with.  

By the end of the following day, I was really starting to feel the stress simmering. A stuck tag line had cost me a lot of time and mental energy earlier in the day. I was also running out of water and knew I needed to top out the next day. But in order to do this, I’d need to fix one more pitch in the dark. The issue was that my headlamp was running out of juice, and my spare batteries were already dead. The stress and pressure was compounding. I had to act.

So I set off, keeping my headlamp as dim as possible, and hoping I wouldn’t get led astray. I tried to climb as efficiently as possible. It turns out that this pitch is also the route’s chossiest. It’s hard to believe there could be any loose rock up there, but I found it in spades as I quested upwards, always upwards, into the dark.  

This was by far the mental crux of the climb. I felt so alone, so vulnerable, so close yet so far from the top, with very little margin for error. I cannot describe the relief that swept through my body once I could faintly make out the line of bolts of the anchor.  

I tucked into my sleeping bag just before midnight, but was stoked on a good day of work, and confident that I’d be standing on top the next day.  

I definitely had not anticipated the nonstop focus that I had to endure for four days straight. It wore me down, but by the last day I found a good rhythm, and started letting my body move on autopilot through the steps. Stack haul line. Stack tag line. Set up lead anchor. Select gear for pitch. Put on GriGri and Microtrax. Climb the pitch. Tag up anchor and haul kit. Fix lead and haul lines. Rap the pitch. Release the bags. Clean the anchor. Jug and clean the pitch. Haul. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

While free-climbing on the last couple pitches, I finally let myself have dreams of pizza.  Touching the tree on top was surreal, and walking felt foreign, but more pressing at that moment were water, food, and figuring out how to get my 100+ lbs of gear, sprawled into various growing piles, off the mountain in one load.  

What ensued was hell. With my haulbag on my back, a light backpack on my chest, a trekking pole in one hand and my portaledge in another, I stumbled and yardsaled my way down the East Ledges descent. I broke my prosthetic foot on the descent—under so much weight, the carbon fiber splintered from nothing more than a little trip. I could still walk (or hobble), but I could hear the fibers crackling with every step.  

Four hours after leaving the tree on top, I walked in disbelief into the El Cap picnic area. The Trip was complete. 

Looking back, I realize that aid soloing is a lot like pressing the fast-forward button on life. Every minute action, every decision you make has consequences that are felt, and must be dealt with, without delay. And these consequences range from a minor inconvenience, and time wasted, to time not really existing anymore for you. The constant low grade stress for days on end was exhausting, and yet there was no room for fear, nor any time to sit back. Only action could push my ropes further up the wall. Perhaps this is indeed an apt metaphor for life.  

I have also come to realize that we have no option but to embrace change and make the most of the circumstances we are presented with. Life has taken me in directions I could never have envisioned as that fresh-faced boy riding his bike through the Valley. But by adapting and trusting the process, I was able to become, for a short little while, one of those tiny dots on that big, big wall.  

A Note of Thanks:

To see the AAC come out with the Catalyst Grant, promoting inclusion and diversity in a sport which needs it so desperately, was incredibly meaningful and motivating. I deeply value what results when we invite more diverse folks into our community. When we do, we strengthen and deepen the human connections we share while recreating in the natural world we all love.  

And I can honestly say that the folks at High-Fives Foundation are changing lives. Their work greatly decreases the barriers to adaptive athletes’ participation in our favorite outdoor sports. Having worked in the adaptive sports world, I cannot overstate the importance of the sense of agency, independence, and community that sport can bring an individual, and how these experiences can transform the course of someone’s life. Rock on!

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In Search of Yosemite's Heart: One Writer's Journey Into the Valley of Giants

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by Lauren DeLaunay Miller

photos by the Ellie Hawkins and Molly Higgins collections

Ellie Hawkins during an early ascent of the North America Wall, 1973, Yosemite National Park, CA. Land of the Central Sierra Miwok people. Keith Nannery.

To steal from author John Green, I fell in love with rock climbing the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once. I was an indoorsy undergraduate at the University of North Carolina when I fell face-first into the world of climbing, thanks in large part to a picture in a magazine. My love for climbing has always been attached to an obsession with Yosemite, that ultimate proving ground of American rock climbers, but before I could make my way out there myself, I tried as hard as I could to connect with that world while still confined to the walls of libraries in Chapel Hill. Climbing literature was my portal, but it didn’t take long to exhaust my options. I don’t know if I could have articulated to you then why—or even that I was—searching for books written by women, but what I did know was that I was going to learn as much as I could about my heroes and try as best as I could to follow in their footsteps.

Five years after graduating, I moved into my new home in the back of Camp 4. The Yosemite Search & Rescue site has a mystical, magical air. To walk into the site is to, quite literally, walk in the footsteps of giants. I’ve climbed at a lot of American climbing destinations, from the New and Red River Gorges in the East, to Indian Creek, Joshua Tree, Red Rock Canyon, and Rocky Mountain National Park, but nowhere have I found the lore as strong as in Yosemite.

At my now-local crag, we often refer to routes as “that 10b arete” or “the 5.11 crack to the left of the 12a.” But in Yosemite, routes have names. Astroman, the Central Pillar of Frenzy, Steck-Salathé, The Nose! We know their first ascensionists, and we know their stories. And these stories get passed down, sometimes in writing but often at campfires and dinner parties, fueled by whiskey or coffee or both. So while it didn’t take long for me to realize that there was a gap between the women’s stories I was hearing and those I was reading, it did take me a few years to muster up the courage to try to close that gap myself.

The idea for the book lived quietly in my head, but as it became louder and louder, I started to shyly share it with my climbing partners. “Don’t you think it would be cool,” I’d mutter, “if there were a whole book about women climbing in Yosemite?” The more I shared my vision, the more it grew. I started scanning old climbing magazines, making lists of the women I’d need to include. Friends started sending me articles they came across, screenshots of Supertopo forums and Mountain Project threads. I spent days at the new Yosemite Climbing Association museum in Mariposa going through thousands of pages of old magazines. At first, everything was centered on building “the list,” my dream list of contributors, and eventually I thought it might just be enough to submit as a book proposal.

Ellie Hawkins gets prepped for the void on the first ascent of Dyslexia (VI 5.10d A4), completed solo, 1985. Bruce Hawkins

I’ve always been the type of person who gets stuck on an idea and can’t shake it until I’ve seen it through. When I started climbing, I gave myself five years to climb El Cap, even though at the time I barely knew how to belay. Nearly every decision I made from that moment propelled me toward my goal, and I recognized the same level of obsession once I became hooked on the idea for this book. I made my proposal and sent it off to three publishing companies. I was living in a tent cabin in Camp 4 by then, and while my own world was consumed by Yosemite, I didn’t know if my idea would resonate outside of my community. But my first conversation with Emily White at Mountaineers Books soothed my concerns, and I knew my project would be safe under her supervision. I signed on the dotted line; I had just over a year to make this thing happen.

I started with the people I knew or could get personal introductions to. I met with Babsi Zangerl in her campervan in the Valley, and she was eager to be a part of the book. That was the moment I thought that I might actually be able to pull this off. Soon, Liz Robbins called, thanks to some coaxing by Ken Yager at the Yosemite Climbing Association. I drew on all the connections I’d made through my climbing career, and every response gave me a jolt of electricity. Fourteen months later, I turned in everything I had: 38 stories, totaling over 76,000 words.

Molly Higgins and Barb Eastman atop El Cap after the first all-female ascent of The Nose, 1977. Larry Bruce

Molly Higgins leading to The Nose’s famous feature, the Great Roof. AAC member Barb Eastman

When Molly Higgins mentioned to Lauren that she had some old boxes of slides from her time in Yosemite, Lauren knew she had to see them. Prepared to see some faded, blurry images at best, she unearthed dozens of boxes—slide after slide of perfectly preserved photographs documenting some of the most courageous ascents of a generation, including images from the first all-female ascent of The Nose on El Cap in 1977. With the tremendous help of the AAC Library, Lauren organized Molly’s collection into an online exhibit which can be viewed at here.

Ellie Hawkins—the other photo contributer for this piece—might not be a household name in the world of Yosemite climbing, but she certainly should be. She’s the only woman to ever establish a Yosemite big wall first ascent completely solo, with Dyslexia (VI 5.10d A4) in the Ribbon Falls Amphitheater. The route was aptly named. Ellie battled a terrible case of dyslexia that often complicated her climbing. Despite these challenges, an early ascent of El Cap’s North America Wall (5.8 C3) and a solo of Never Never Land (5.10a) earned Ellie’s place among the Valley’s legends. Lauren was able to digitize and preserve Ellie’s collection of slides and prints as well, a few of which are featured here.

One of the greatest gifts of working on this book came in the form of a few phone conversations with Liz Robbins. Liz is the author of one of my favorite pieces in the book, a story written years ago for Alpinist magazine that tells of her experience establishing the first ascent of The Nutcracker Suite (5.8), the first route in Yosemite to be climbed entirely on clean protection. The Nutcracker, as it is commonly known today, was the first route I ever climbed in Yosemite, years before I ended up working on the Search & Rescue team. Having driven all through the night from the mountain West, across the wide open sagebrush of Nevada, up through the winding granite slabs of Tuolumne, and down, at long last, to Yosemite Valley, I woke up at dawn, claimed my spot in Camp 4, and went straight to the Manure Pile Buttress. I once read that a “classic” climb must be at least one, if not all, of these three things: aesthetically pleasing, historically significant, and full of spectacular climbing. The Nutcracker Suite has it all, and it made for an unforgettable first Yosemite experience.

Ellie Hawkins on a solo ascent of Never Never Land (5.10a), Yosemite Valley National Park, CA. Land of the Central Sierra Miwok people. Bruce Hawkins

It’s been more than five years since that first Valley climb, and when I told Liz about my experience climbing it, we realized that because of her and Royal’s decision not to place pitons, the route climbs just about the same way today as it did during her first ascent. Of course, it is greasy with chalk and rubber from thousands of ascents, but it is not scarred the way other Yosemite routes are. Where I smeared, Liz had smeared, and where I stuffed my fingers in the crack, so had she.

Barb Eastman walking out the infamous Thank God Ledge during the first all-female ascent of Half Dome’s Regular Northwest Face(5.9C1),1976. AAC member Molly Higgins

At the end of the story, Liz expresses the mental tug-of-war she often engaged in when climbing. Her doubts about her abilities echoed my own insecurities about the making of this book. Who was I to engage in such an important project? But, as did Liz, I found time and time again that I’d yet to come across the problem that demanded more of me than I could give. Of course, this book is not perfect. There are holes—gaping ones—ones that jump out at me baring teeth and ones that, surely, I will see more clearly with time. But soon we will have in our hands the stories of 38 women who have, at one time or another, found themselves at the center of Yosemite climbing. We start in 1938 and run smack into the present, and it would horrify my editor if she knew that I were still adding stories the day before my first draft was due. But just as Steck & Roper implored us to think of their 50 Classic Climbs as some classic climbs and not the classic climbs, so too do these stories tell of the experiences of some women, not the women. Because there are so many more stories, so many more voices, so many more experiences worth telling and retelling. And as Liz so eloquently writes: I’ve only just begun the excavation.

Lauren DeLaunay Miller served on the Yosemite Search & Rescue team while completing her book, Valley of Giants: Stories from Women at the Heart of Yosemite Climbing (Mountaineers Books, Spring 2022), an anthology of stories that document the history of women’s climbing in Yosemite National Park. Lauren lives in Bishop, CA where she is a founding board member of the Bishop Climbers Coalition and Coordinator for the AAC’s Bishop Highball Craggin’ Classic. She is currently pursuing her master’s degree in Journalism at the University of California in Berkeley.

The New Era of Climbing Management Plans & Regulations

Climbers gazing up at Middle Cathedral from the floor of Yosemite Valley. Yosemite was recently the scene of a new permitting process for big wall climbers. Lands of the Central Sierra Miwok peoples. AAC Member Bryan Meyer

5 minute read

The New Era of Climbing Management Plans & Regulations

Taylor Luneau, AAC Policy Manager

Across the country, people are flocking to recreate on our nations’ public lands in record setting numbers. Calico Basin, found within the world famous Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, experienced a 340% increase in visitation over the past decade. Across the West, peak season campsite occupancy rates have risen by an estimated 47% since 2014. The phenomena, which Colorado State University’s Public Land History Center is aptly calling “the Public Landemic” has been widely reported on and our climbing areas are feeling the pressure like everywhere else.

While the pandemic pushed people out of climbing gyms and up to our local crags, the climbing communities’ massive growth can also be attributed to, among other things, the explosion of climbing gyms across the country, the emergence of climbers at the Oscars, and the long awaited appearance of climbing in the Olympics—outcomes that naturally, we would all celebrate. But with growth comes growing pains. The flood of climbers into the outdoors is creating a tipping point for land managers who, due to lack of sustained funding and staff capacity, struggle to mitigate the increased stress on infrastructure caused by overcrowding. In response, the climbing community is experiencing a notable uptick in new regulations such as permit programs, timed entry and fee systems as well as other restrictions to our favorite climbing destinations.

Climbers at a busy crag at Calico Basin in Red Rocks Canyon National Conservation Area. These popular sport climbing areas outside Las Vegas, NV have seen some of the highest increase in use over the past 10 years. Lands of the Southern Paiute, & Newe peoples. AAC member Jon Glassberg

While I do not openly welcome any limitations on our communities’ access to climbing, I do understand that there are certain limits of unacceptable impacts to ecological and cultural resources as well as the recreational experience itself, that land managers are tasked with monitoring and mitigating. In the best case scenario, agency officials will make management recommendations that are supported by authentic community engagement, grounded in science, and adaptable to new information and recreation trends. Where in some areas a timed entry program may be a useful management tool, in others, that tool may be totally misapplied. This gets to the heart of why the AAC continues to fight for the public process and transparency embodied in the National Environmental Policy Act—the Magna Carta of environmental law and the legal basis that allows the public to comment on the management of our public lands. The land management programs that are being proposed to address overcrowding on our public lands must be tailored to the needs and specifics of the given landscape and its affiliated communities; this public comment process allows this to manifest.

Over the past year I’ve witnessed our community lean into this reality in a big way. Climbers stepped up to engage in difficult discussions on how to establish route development ethics in Ten Sleep (a plan that was recently abandoned due to US Forest Service staffing shortages), they provided critical insights on how our community interacts with wilderness climbing resources in Joshua Tree and Yosemite, they shared feedback on use patterns in Calico Basin, and they offered valuable knowledge on access points to Old Rag in Shenandoah National Park – just to name a few.

Advocacy doesn’t just happen on Capitol Hill. You
can always get involved with a trail maintenance or clean up day at your local climbing area. Here, climbers give back to the crags they love during the Smith Rock Craggin Classic. Lands of the Tenino peoples and Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs. AAC member Luke Humphrey

At several recent public hearings regarding management plans for climbing areas across the country (such as the Calico Basin RAMP/EA where hundreds of climbers showed up to share their thoughts) I’ve heard comments regarding these rules as stifling the spontaneous nature of climbing and limiting the freedom we’ve experienced as a user group for decades. These are valuable and important concerns that must be communicated to land management agencies. Climbers must actively engage in these regulatory discussions and call attention to when agencies can be doing better. In doing so, we can emphasize a deep understanding of our user groups’ distinct needs, movement patterns, and cultural values. When appropriate, we must hold decision makers accountable, and request they go back to the drawing board to reconsider their plans and evaluate their intentions.

We must also understand that growth in our sport is a great thing. Consider the many wild adventures and profound relationships that you’ve developed through your own climbing experiences. It’s well documented that recreation outdoors supports public health and wellbeing, not to mention endless economic benefits for local communities. As the AAC reflects on our own history, we’re challenging ourselves to be more inclusive and welcoming to a broader, bigger, and more diverse community of climbers. Welcoming a bigger community of climbers to the outdoors will undoubtedly make our advocacy for access challenging and nuanced, but our community will be more vibrant, rich, and dare I say more politically powerful because of it.

The era we live in as climbers is a unique one and represents a significant departure from the past. With management plans popping up across the country, we have an opportunity to ensure that our climbing areas are properly cared for, that access to these spaces is more equitable, that local Tribes have better opportunities to guide the management of their ancestral lands (there is still much room for improvement), and that the character of these important places continues to offer unique experiences for generations of climbers to come. The great thing is that climbers have done this before. We’ve worked hard to educate each other about respecting culturally sensitive sites, we’ve observed and successfully self enforced raptor closures, and we’ve stewarded the trails and local infrastructure at our climbing areas. We need to carry these successes forward.

Right now, a local climbing organization or AAC chapter in your area can undoubtedly use your help, your unique experience and your voice to protect our climbing areas. Many of these local advocacy groups have developed strong relationships with land managers and are currently assisting them with the management of local crags and public lands. I encourage you to seek out these groups, offer your time and professional expertise, join public meetings with land managers to share your insights, submit substantive comments on management plans, and look for action alerts from national organizations like the Access Fund and American Alpine Club. Through your efforts we may see our climbing areas change in positive ways, like newly graded roads, parking lots, bathrooms and more sustainably built trails — not to mention acknowledgement as an important user group and thought partner in the stewardship of our public lands.

The times are changing, but we don’t have to simply accept it for what it is. We can play a critical role in coming up with creative solutions alongside land managers. Your voice matters: get involved.

The Prescription - September 2021

Photo of Leaning Tower by Meros Felsenmaus

The Prescription - September 2021

Yosemite Valley, Leaning Tower

Two climbers attempting the West Face of Leaning Tower in June decided to descend after arriving at Ahwahnee Ledge (the top of the fourth pitch), due to excessive heat and sun. While rappelling the very overhanging first pitch with the haulbag, Climber A rappelled over a small roof and got too far away from the wall to reach the ledge at the bottom of the pitch, despite clipping some directionals during his descent. (The West Face route is approached by a ramp that traverses onto the face, so the first anchor is far above the ground.) Since the climber could not reach the ramp, he continued rappelling to a lower ledge. This ledge had no permanent anchor, and Climber A was not carrying the right pieces to construct a solid anchor. With no way to anchor the haul bag, he could not detach it from the ropes nor reascend the ropes to reach the ramp.

During their descent, the two climbers had called Yosemite Search and Rescue to request some advice. Climbing rangers were able to assist them over the phone with their first rappels, but soon decided to send SAR members to Leaning Tower in case further assistance was needed. When SAR members arrived, they fixed a rope and lowered it to Climber A, and he was able to leave his haul bag and jumar out. They then secured the team’s rappel ropes to the ledge so the second climber could rappel directly to the approach ramp. The ropes and haulbag were retrieved later that day.

ANALYSIS

The Leaning Tower is one of the steepest big walls in North America, the lower half of which overhangs at an average angle of 110 degrees. The West Face has been the site of numerous rappelling difficulties, and while Climber A did utilize some directionals, he extended one piece with a long runner and soon found himself too far from the cliff to place more directional pieces. (Source: Yosemite National Park Climbing Rangers.)

The report above and the how-to sidebar that follows will appear in the 2021 edition of ANAC, which is being mailed to AAC members this month.

THE ART OF THE BAIL

Rappelling with a Haulbag: Advice from a Yosemite Ranger

Bailing off a steep route is a nearly inevitable outcome if you climb enough walls, so it’s best to know how to get down safely before you find yourself dangling in space, wishing you knew what to do. Yosemite climbing rangers advise the following techniques for rappelling overhanging routes with a haulbag.

(1) The first person descending should rappel on a fixed single strand of the rappel ropes with a Grigri or a similar locking device, clipping both strands of the ropes to directional pieces to keep them close to the wall. They should also carry equipment to reascend the fixed rope in case of getting too far from the wall or rappelling past the anchor.

(2) When the first person arrives at the lower anchor, they should feed out five to ten feet of slack rope, tie a knot with both ropes, and clip the knot to the anchor. This will close the system for the second rappeller and allow the second person to pull themself into the wall to unclip directionals on their way down and to pull into the anchor at the end of the rappel.

(3) The second rappeller should untie the fixed strand from the upper anchor or undo any knot-blocks, and then rappel both strands as normal, using a tube-style device (such as an ATC) and a third-hand backup. They can unclip and clean the directional pieces as they descend. The second person down should carry the team’s heaviest gear (haulbag, etc.), because the tube-style device produces a smoother rappel than a Grigri. They should not have any reason to reascend the ropes because they will be fixed to the lower anchor. —Christian Black, Yosemite National Park Climbing Ranger

ANAC 2021 IS COMING SOON!

Production delays at the printer pushed back the delivery schedule for the new edition of Accidents in North American Climbing, but the books have finally arrived at our mailing house in Denver. Boxes are now being filled and books will start going into the mail and onto retailers’ shelves over the next couple of weeks. Thanks for your patience!

The 2021 Accidents includes a new 15-page section documenting and explaining avalanche incidents involving backcountry skiers and snowboarders. We hope you’ll find it to be a useful addition—let us know what you think at [email protected].

Not yet a member of the American Alpine Club? You can order a print or digital (PDF) copy of the 2021 book at the AAC online store.

ALTITUDE AND VISION SURGERY

Researchers at the University of Washington, University of New Mexico, and the University of Tübingen (Germany) are conducting a research survey to estimate how commonly vision changes occur while traveling to high altitude after vision correction surgery. The goal is to gather information that can help other climbers and trekkers choose the right surgery for them. If you’ve had vision correction surgery and have since traveled to high altitude, you can help by completing an anonymous online survey. Further information about the project and the survey itself can be found by clicking on this link.  

DANGEROUS HAILSTORM IN THE BLACK HILLS

A sudden July storm caught Ed and three other climbers near the top of Waves, a two-pitch route near Mt. Rushmore in the Black Hills of South Dakota. In the face of 50 mph gusts, plunging temperatures, and golf-ball-size hail, getting off the climb was a test of experience, concentration, and teamwork, as you’ll hear in Episode 68 of the Sharp End podcast.

The monthly Prescription newsletter is supported by adidas Outdoor and the members of the American Alpine Club. Questions? Suggestions? Write to us at [email protected].

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AAC Creates Yosemite Timeline with NativesOutdoors

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"Yosemite Valley (Ahwahnee in the language of the Ahwahnechee, who originally inhabited the area) has long been a bastion for American climbing, from the first ascent of the NW Face of Half Dome (Tissaack) to the first free solo of El Cap (Tutocanula). The AAC has been there nearly every step of the complicated (and sometimes dark) way—from guiding the establishment of the park to fighting for climbing as a legitimate use of wilderness in National Parks and advocating for the preservation and 2018 improvements to Camp 4, the iconic climbers' campground."

We've worked with NativesOutdoors to put together this resource for all things Yosemite climbing and history. Check it out below.

Yosemite (Ahwahnee) THROUGH THE YEARS

Yosemite National Park Implements Road and Campground Improvements

Photo: AAC member Andrew Burr

Photo: AAC member Andrew Burr

We're thrilled to see the suggested improvements to Camp 4 that the Club advocated for in the Merced River Plan come to fruition! Climbers, you will have more parking spaces, more campsites, and more bathrooms with showers. Learn more below.

Improvements underway along Northside Drive and Camp 4 Campground

Yosemite National Park is working to implement several roadway and campground improvements within Yosemite Valley. Extensive work is being conducted on Northside Drive, the road leading from Yosemite Village to Yosemite Falls and toward the park exits. Significant work is also being conducted at Camp 4, a popular campground in Yosemite Valley. The current work is expected to be completed bythis winter , and compliments the work that was completed earlier this summer. 

On Northside Drive, work is being done to repave the road and add curbing for safety and resource protection. Work is also being done to realign portions of the road and do some sewer and utility work. The work on this portion of the road is in addition to work completed earlier this year which included a total redesign of the Yosemite Village Parking Area (formerly known as Camp 6), installation of a roundabout, and the repaving of the road from Stoneman Bridge to Yosemite Village. The total cost of the roadwork is approximately $14 million, coming from Federal Highways Administration, and the Recreational Fee Program.

In addition to the benefits of improving traffic flow and delineating visitor parking, the road projects include 1.7 acres of wetland restoration in an ecologically important and sensitive area of Yosemite Valley. The work is part of the implementation of the Merced River Plan, finalized in 2014,  which directs actions that protect the Merced River (a federally designated Wild & Scenic River) and enhances the visitor experience.

Concurrently, significant work is being conducted in and around Camp 4, a popular walk-in campground in Yosemite Valley. Currently, the parking lot is being expanded, bringing the capacity to 130 vehicles.  Either later this fall or in Spring, 2018, 25 campsites are being added (each site can accommodate 6 people) which will bring the total to 57 campsites. A new comfort station is also being constructed in which showers will be included. This will be the first park campground that will provide shower facilities for people staying in the campground.  The total cost of the campground project is approximately $2 million(funded by the Recreational Fee Program) and is expected to be completed in 2018.

All roads within Yosemite Valley and Camp 4 remain open during the construction. There are some lane closures and traffic delays associated with the ongoing work. There will be no active construction in the winter, and projects will resume in Spring 2018.