Reminiscing on a Good Summer in Yosemite Valley, 2012

Since I haven't posted in a while and schools getting busy I figured I'd put up an essay I wrote a couple summers ago. When I wrote it I had just arrived in Spain after spending about seven weeks in the Valley. I was feeling lonely and wondering why I'd left the best place to climb in the world. It was about 3am, hot and humid as hell, I was sick, and the tiger mosquitoes wouldn't leave me alone (oh how pleasant the Spanish summertime can be). Anyways this is what resulted. I was pretty proud of it and it brings back some great memories, sorry if it's a little corny...

Tonight I was reminded of the night I left the valley some ten days ago. I don’t know what made me think of it, perhaps it was a longing to return, to experience again the feelings and the emotions felt so strongly while I was there, to bring back the glory and the pride I felt at the end of the long and successful jaunt. Feelings that now, being in another country, one that’s as different from the valley as it could possibly get, don’t seem to hold the same worth. But whether they do or not, they mean a hell of lot to me.

I remember saying goodbye on the night I left, so vividly that I could almost believe I was still there. Saying goodbye to the formations that I had ventured on to this summer and over past summers, and those that I will venture on soon. Saying goodbye to my longtime climbing partner and best friend, who I might not see again for who knows how long due to his decision to go for his PHD at Hong Kong University. Saying goodbye to what felt like an era in which we were unstoppable, in which the sky was the limit.

Organizing gear on night one of
the Nose.

I remember saying goodbye to El Capitan, the climb that set the summer off and one for the record books. Never had our team felt so fast and efficient as we felt on the Nose. Our momentum started strong from day one and carried us to the top so fast it felt like we flew there. It probably carried us through our entire summer now that I think of it. Once we hit our stride it felt like nothing could stop us, and nothing could. Not even Jake’s thumb which he broke on day two (of five), or Nick’s shin which he split open to the bone by taking a whipper onto a ledge on day four, or my stomach parasite which I unpleasantly (to say the least) carried for the duration of the climb. Compared to Half Dome, which we climbed two summers prior (a three day struggle of inefficiency and mistakes turned into a nightmare that seemed would never end), El Cap was a testament that we were finally getting somewhere. After we topped out it seemed even the Gods were impressed, or maybe just angry that we’d defied them, sending us a welcoming gift in the form of rain, thunder and lightning upon our return to solid ground (the entire five days there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky). It was quite the gift. After that we felt invincible, like we could do anything, and we really could.

I remember saying goodbye to the Cathedrals, where just like those three or four years prior, we were caught topping out Upper Cathedral in the dark and forced to bivy for the night when we couldn’t find the descent. We may have climbed El Cap, but even so you must always have respect for the valley no matter how much experience you have. It took a long cold night spent shivering in shorts and a t-shirt for us to remember this. We’d learned it on Middle Cathedral all those years ago but apparently we needed a little reminder. Lesson re-learned.

I remember saying goodbye to the Royal Arches, where we’d done the Serenity-Sons linkup, starting at 7pm and climbing into the night, one of my best memories from the trip. Cool temperatures, no crowds, and some of the most classic climbing that exists anywhere! What more could you want. Most of all it taught me that climbing in the night wasn’t necessarily something that needed to be dreaded but something that could be desired. Who says it’s too hot to climb in the valley during the summer?

Getting geared up for Astroman!

And finally I remember saying goodbye to Astroman and the Rostrum, which, in our final week, we set out to do and not only climbed but did so better than I could ever have thought possible of us, team onsighting the Rostrum and team redpointing all but one pitch of Astroman (and onsighting the last four). I’d never before experienced such difficult and sustained climbing in all my life. I’m even a boulderer with possibly the worst endurance out of anyone you could ever meet, but once the climbs got started and the pitches started falling, an energy was built up that carried us to the top and gave us the ability to crank through all the way till the end. I could go on for pages and pages about these climbs, SOOOO GOOOOD!!!, but I’ll spare you (maybe another time). Suffice to say I’d never felt more euphoric in all my life as I felt after topping these guys out, it was really the experience of a lifetime. After that week I finally felt I had earned my place as a legitimate valley climber, maybe even among the legends that I’ve looked up to for inspiration over the years...I know I’ve still got a ways to go, but I’m getting there.

I don’t know what brought all this on, maybe just an image of El Cap that sprouted up in my mind and brought down an avalanche of memories, maybe I’m just bored and can’t sleep. But either way these are memories I never want to forget, and this is an essay I will be able to read for the rest of my life, that will bring a smile to my face and a sense of true satisfaction, that will let me feel like I really did something that summer. I remember saying goodbye to the valley on the night I left, but I also remember knowing that this wasn’t really the end, just the beginning of a new era that I’m sure will hold many new adventures.

Mother Half Dome up in the clouds.