Mob Scene on The Nose

George Begins the Tale:

Steve Shostek and I arrived in the Valley Saturday, Sept 14th, 1996.
We immediately scoped out the Nose and were discouraged to count 10
climbers flailing away on the Stovelegs.  It was 3PM, which meant they
were slow and probably wouldn't make El Cap Tower.

The next day we started fixing lines to Sickle Ledge, carrying our fully
packed haul bag with 5 gallons of water.  This went smoothly and we were to
Sickle Ledge by 2PM.  Steve led the 4th class pitch 5 and hauled our
bag up there, where it was to rest for 36 hours.  There were at least
5 sets of fixed ropes down from Sickle, and 2 parties hauling their bags
to Sickle, presumably to aid a quick start the next day.  I was quite
discouraged by these crowds.  The only good thing was that nobody else
was fixing the first four pitches.  As we walked to the car, we noticed
a party of 3 moving slowly at the Stovelegs (Japanese, we eventually
learned), and a party of 2 attempting to pass them by a curious variation
right of the Stoveleg pendulum (the free variation?).

The next day we decided to wait out, as we anticipated a large number
of parties starting.  Also, I had somehow managed to lose one of my jumars,
so we had to go the the Mountain Shop to buy another.  In El Cap meadows
around noon, we noticed the party of 3 Japanese were still not even
at Dolt Tower, apparently they had slept hanging in slings.  A French
team of 3 who we had talked with the day before ("we are slow") was
blasting up faster than any party we had seen, and was just below the
Japanese.  Another party of 2 was just beyond Sickle Ledge.  The ten
people who had started the day we arrived were by now approaching
Camp 5.

Steve Interjects:

It was a mob scene on the Nose. Overcrowding at its worst, and we
planned to contribute 2 more bodies to the crowd. Our strategy for
dealing with crowds was to start early and make certain that we
were on the route first. An early start means an early bed time, and
I brought out my favorite sleep aid to share with George:12 year old
single malt scotch whiskey. Mmmmmm. And later, Zzzzzzzzzz...

George?

Sept 17th, 2:45AM.  The alarm goes off.  I have slept very little if
at all.  Almost every party we had seen on the wall was moving very
slowly, so we take an extra gallon of water in case it takes us 4 days.
Also, nobody seemed to start very early, so our strategy is
to be ahead of everyone else, at least to El Cap Tower.  We get lost
walking into the fixed lines, but backtrack and find our way after
losing a good 20 minutes.  It is past 4 as we begin jumaring.

One team is sleeping at the base of the wall.  I pop my head over
Sickle Ledge to find 3 comatose forms.  Gad, another party!!
They are friendly chaps from New Zealand, Oz and one American.
They say they have a fixed rope to the top of 6 that we are free to use.
We do this to save time (this would turn out to be the only pitch of the
entire climb we did not lead) and quickly I am leading pitch 7.  This is a
simple tension traverse right to easy (but somewhat loose) climbing up
to the Dolt Hole.  Soon I am at the hanging belay trying to avoid making
a tangle of our ropes as I haul our feisty pig across.

As Steve lowers out and jumars to me a wild scene is developing below.
The 3 who slept at Sickle are up and moving to Steve's belay.
Meanwhile the party of 5 Spaniards who slept at the base have jugged
up and are attempting to pass the 3 by tension traversing lower.  The
Spanish leader does so and soon sets up shop at an intermediate
belay about 50' below me.

Steve Adds:

Overcrowding had become our biggest worry of the climb. This may have
been helpful as it served to take my mind off of the technical problems
of upward progress. The long pendulums and unprotectable Texas chimney
worries were replaced by the mundane "where the heck are we all
going to sleep?"

There were other problems of crowding, too...

(Back to you, George)

A biner with a bunch of stoppers attached clangs past me, I scream
"Rock!!" to those below.  Did I drop that??  No.  Then off to my left
I see other falling objects.  I read off the catalog to those below:
"Helmet!!  Chalk Bag!!  Slings!!".  These bounce off harmlessly
beyond Sickle ledge, we wonder where they originated from.  Later
we find out they are from the Japanese party ahead, now on day 3
of their climb and somewhere around Boot Flake.

Steve now begins to lead the pendulum into the Stovelegs.  This pitch
is long and complex, and the Spaniards are hot on our trail.  Steve
completes the pendulum, then begins to lead the Stovelegs on the
haul line as Bill had suggested.  This works well but it is a long ways
to the belay.  By the time I leave I have 3 Spaniards for company
at my belay.

Steve:

It took me several tries to complete this long pendulum, lowering
out further after each failed attempt until I was just above
George's belay. The tricky part was jumping over a 4 foot high
dihedral in mid-swing. I finally reached the crack and started
up, sliding cams ahead of me to help quell the butterflies I felt
in my belly after the tricky penji. Soon I had gained enough
altitude that rope drag on pro would not be a problem, and I fired
in some pro. I felt better with something in below me.

George kept me posted on the progress of the Spanish team
who I gathered where moving quite fast despite their superior
numbers. Their presence felt like the lash of a whip, urging me
to climb faster. I hate that.

George:

I lead the short 9th pitch entirely on aid, then Steve combines
the next two pitches of mixed free and aid.  The Spanish leader,
"Cesar", is our constant companion at belay stances.
He is very fast and can lead most pitches about twice as fast as
either of us.  Although he does more free moves I realize from
watching him that most of his increase in speed is because he is a
more efficient aid climber.  However the Spanish team as a whole
is close to our speed due to delays from 4 people jumaring and 2 haul bags.

My next pitch, the 12th, is also short.  A scary 5.9 squeeze for a few
feet leads to a fist crack which I simply aid using our #4 Friend
and Camalot.  Soon I am atop Dolt Tower.  We relax now as the Spanish
team still hasn't finished the long combined pitch.

After a quick lunch and drink Steve tensions off Dolt Tower, then swings
over to some awkward 5.9 cracks.  I lower the pig off and by keeping
tension on the lower out line keep it from getting hung up on some flakes.
At this point Cesar & Co. have just arrived on Dolt Tower so it appears
they won't be hounding us anymore, although we all have plenty of time
to reach El Cap Tower.

Steve's Lead:

The 13th pitch featured some awkward 5.9 that I was glad to have behind
me. George did a masterful job of coordinating his lower-out of the pig
with my hauling in order to avoid hanging up on some hungry flakes. The
Spanish team seemed to have slowed down considerably, and they were
just reaching the Dolt Tower Bivy just as George departed. It would be the
next day before we learned about exactly why they had slowed down. In
the meantime, I was wishing that they would just stay on Dolt Tower for
the night, but knew that this was not in their plan as I watched them
urinate on the best bivy site on the tower.  No one wets their own bed.
Still, the space between us offered me some ease and I relaxed for the
first time that day, knowing that the Spaniards would not be nipping
at our heels for the rest of the day. Also, after communicating my fear
of unprotected chimneys, George had agreed to lead the Texas Flake
pitch. This relaxed most of my fear circuits.

Back to George:

The next pitch falls to me, some easy free moves followed by a
long fist/lieback crack.  Again I aid most of this using the two #4's, and
eventually I reach the belay.  Above me is a horizontal line of 4 bolts; I
gather that this is the famous chipped Jardine traverse.  Steve
disposes of the next easy pitch quickly, reaching El Cap Tower
by 5PM.  Anticipating a crowded bivy, we both lie down at the far
east end of the ledge and then place our haul bag as a barrier.
We leave the Spaniards more than half of the ledge, although it will
be hard for them all to lie down.  I don't know why they have 5
people anyway when the largest bivy on the climb (this ledge) is
listed on the topo as holding only 4.

There is still almost an hour of light left so I decide to lead and fix
the next pitch to the top of Texas Flake.  Steve says he "sucks at
chimneys" so it looks like it is up to me.  I have done enough
5.8 chimneys in Yosemite to be worried about them.  Spectacular
free moves lead off the ledge, leading to an awkward thrutch past
a chockstone and the chimney itself.

This chimney is about 50' high, widening from about 2.5'.  It is nice
to see a shiny new bolt about 2/3 of the way up.  I squeeze up
the lower part of the chimney and clip the bolt.  I have heard that
the chimney gets easier as you go up so I am psyched.  However above
here I discover a critical problem.  A year ago, I broke my wrist and
after a medical run-a-round ended up having some wrist bones fused.
The net result is I have lost half the mobility in my left wrist.

In a narrow chimney like this one, one can hold oneself by
placing a hand palm out against the opposite wall and bridging
between your palm and shoulder.  I discovered I could not do this
with my left arm anymore, because I could not bend my wrist enough
to get my palm on the wall.  To make matters worse, the chimney was
just slightly wider than the distance between by knee and butt, an
awkward intermediate size.

About 10' above the bolt I am in trouble.  I can hold myself in with
my right arm but not my left.  I have been keeping my back to the flake
as all recommend and I spot a good inch wide ledge on the main wall, but
it is about 4 feet to my left.  I make a long stretch to it with my
left foot, but this is my big mistake as it puts me totally off balance.
Suddenly my right arm collapses and I am falling.

I'm not too worried with the bolt only 10' below.  Certainly it will catch
me before I bottom out.  But I slide down forever and crash into
the bottom of the chimney on my side.  God damn!!  Why didn't the rope
catch me??  It turns out there was a great deal of slack around a rock
at the start of the pitch, plus there was almost a full ropelength out
to stretch.

I get up and am amazed to find myself completely uninjured.  We figured
out later that the rope probably did catch me, but only at the very end.
I am quite shaken up and do not what to attempt the chimney again.  I lower
off to the bivy ledge.

The climb has been going so well to this point I am greatly depressed
by my fall.  How are we going to climb this if we can't get up the
chimney??  Steve tries to lift my spirits and does not seem worried
about this.

Steve Continues:

As George starts up the infamous Texas Flake pitch I am in high spirits.
My partner is leading the one pitch on the climb that had me scared.
After this it should all be smooth sailing. The pitch starts on the far
left side of El Cap Tower, traverses to the right, then traverses back
left to enter the Texas chimney. A classic rope drag problem. I belayed
with a careful amount of slack to minimize my contribution to the drag.
Nevertheless, the rope ran around a bulge in the rock above me and I
was sure that George was feeling some drag as he inched upward in
the dreaded chimney.

As every inch of rope payed out I got happier and happier in anticipation
of the end of Texas Chimney and the end of a very full day of climbing.
Then, a strange thing happened. I felt a strong tug on the rope, the
left-most piece of protection popped out, the rope flipped off of the
rock bulge that it was running around, and then I got a hard pull on the rope,
followed by no movement. After a while, George's helmeted head poked
around Texas Flake and he said "Hey! I just fell 30 feet and hit the ledge!"
Or words to that effect.

I was stunned. My partner had fallen, and I had failed to arrest his fall.
How could that happen?! Piecing the events together later, we figured that
the amount of rope released by the piece that pulled plus the rope that
was wrapped around the bulge must have been enough to allow
George to fall to the ledge. The second hard pull on the rope must have
come just before George hit bottom, absorbing some of the energy of his
fall.  Fortunately George was unhurt.

We were soooo lucky. George returned to our bivy site and I offered
consolation, gratitude, and my best show of optimism.

Back to George:

Sept 18th.  The Spaniards sleep in but Steve and I quickly pack up
the haul bag.  Steve agrees to try and lead the Texas Flake chimney.
I belay with great caution and concern, watching the rope snake
out inch by inch as he leads above the bolt.  Then he appears on
Texas Flake.  Hooray, he made it!!  I tell him he will have to
revise his opinion that he "sucks in chimneys"!!

As I prepare to lead the next pitch, the Spanish leader Cesar
is already leading up the chimney.  He does it all wrong, chimneying up
the east side and with his back to the wall but rapidly moves up it with
little trouble.  My pitch seems to go slowly and I hear Steve being
given a lesson in Spanish as I work my way up.  The top of Boot Flake
is a nice little ledge and I haul the pig and wait for Steve to join me.

Steve Adds:

During my Spanish lesson with Cesar, I got some info about what
was slowing the Spanish team down. One of their team had a small
mishap with the Stovelegs pendulum.  I gathered that this person
did not lower out properly and took a wicked pendulum fall into
the dihedral wall that I had jumped over in the middle of the pendulum.
A member of the team was a physician's assistant and had diagnosed
a broken arm. The injured climber had jugged from pitch 8 all the
way up to pitch 15 and was only now contemplating bailing!
It wasn't until after the King Swing that the injured man finally
decided to bail, which meant that he had to get all the way to pitch
19 in order to catch up to the rappel line off of the Nose. The good
news was that it was possible for them to bail. The bad news was
that they started down at 3:00pm and would be lucky to hit
the ground before dark.

George?

The King Swing is next, Steve lowers off and pulls himself to the
second pendulum point by using a fixed rope.  From here I lower him
another 20 feet until he is able to swing around the corner into
a left facing dihedral.  Meanwhile Cesar is blasting up my pitch
and quickly joins me at the belay.  Damn this guy leads fast!

Steve hauls the pig over and I keep the end of the haul line.  Then
I thread it through the anchors and Steve lowers me off.  I clip
my jumars into the lead line and swing over.  Bill Wright's trick
once again works perfectly.

Before we are ready for the next pitch Cesar is already at the belay.
These Spaniards are way fast, maybe we should let them pass?  I discuss
the idea with Steve, and ask Cesar.  But he responds that they do
not want to pass, in fact they are thinking of going down!  One
of their party has injured his wrist in the swing into the Stovelegs.

Steve has been leading faster than me so I let Steve lead the next,
long pitch while the Spaniards decide what to do.  Eventually two
of them decide to go down, and three continue behind us.  The next
pitch is very long, after 150' Steve reaches an anchor.  From
here he lowers off 30' and swings left to a good ledge, only possible
because of our 60m lead line.

I jug the pitch and set up a rappel from the high anchor.  We now have
a good view of the Great Roof and a party of Japanese struggling
in the wind above it (they left two days before us).  We have become
concerned about this party since they are moving so slowly.

Steve:

The King-Swing was tricky. I had to lower much further than I
anticipated in order to traverse to the next crack. After many
time consuming failures and much lowering, I grabbed the crack and
then got busy re-gaining the lost altitude.

I combined pitches 19 and 20 into one long slug-fest of mixed free and aid.
There was some thrilling free climbing on these pitches with good feet
and finger to thin-hands crack climbing. I was  exhausted when the pitch ended
though and was quite happy to have a ledge to belay from. Meanwhile,
the Japanese were now just above us at the belay next to the Great Roof.
It was starting to look like we would catch up to them before the end
of the climb and have to pass or worse yet, wait in the slow lane.

Back to George:

The next pitch is supposed to be 4th class although there is a
downclimb in the middle of it I'd rate about 5.7!  I soon reach a nice
ledge (bivy for one) and two brand new 3/8" bolts, but one is
hangarless and the other not screwed down tight.  The hauling is nasty
from here as the pitch is horizontal but eventually I wrestle the
haul bag over.

Steve quickly re-racks and leads the pitch to Camp 4, supposedly 5.9
but it seems much harder as he moves from aid on a hangarless bolt to
a blank slab.  He also has a hard haul as this pitch traverses and
is fairly low angle.  I think it is around 4PM as we both reach
Camp 4, which has some decent ledges but they are not very flat
for sleeping.

It's 4 more pitches to Camp 5, too far to go today, even if the
Japanese weren't blocking the way (they are still at the belay
above the great roof, having slept here last night!).  The 3 Spaniards
arrive, and it becomes clear it will not be a comfortable night.
Steve and I take the best ledge, about 5' square but sloping.  By stacking
ropes under us we are able to almost get comfortable, although
our feet hang over the abyss.  We tend to slide slowly off the ledge,
and it is hard to relax the mind enough to sleep.  The 3 Spaniards are
cramped on an even smaller and more sloping ledge above, eventually
we invite one of them to come join us.

Steve:

It was an "interesting" evening and night and we all got to know
each other better. I even made my first ever Spanish joke. The
Spaniard who joined us muttered something about a "Horrible
Bivy." I replied in my new-found language:

"Non, horrible bivy esta mala tiempo bivy!"

Everyone laughed at this and we got on like good friends. Which was
good because we were crammed onto a ledge the size of a lumpy,
sloping desk for the night and I would only want to share such an
experience with friends.

We settled in for the night, sitting side by side, eventually leaning on
each other and somehow drifted off to slumber land. Yes, I did indeed
sleep and I know that George did too since I heard him snoring when I
woke to readjust positions.

George?

Sept 19th.  We agree to let the Spaniards pass.  With only three of
them now they should be faster.  The evening before they even fixed
the next pitch.  However they are not early risers and Steve impatiently
frets while they start their stove for coffee.  Yes, these people
have brought a stove!!  After a breakfast that seems to consist of coffee
and a couple of cookies they are finally off.  I have told them they
can make the top today if they are "mucho rapido".

The next lead goes free at 5.9, and according to Bill's trip report it
really is 5.9.  My fall the first day is still on my mind, though, and
I pull on a couple of my pieces to get up this pitch quickly.  The
Spaniards are making a slow time of the Great Roof, it is because Cesar is
not leading!!  I have no idea why the super-fast leader is not first,
but it is instead their petite woman leading.  This is her first lead
of the route.

I have considerable time to set up an equalized anchor.  Good thing,
too because it consists of a pin and 2 spinner quarter inch bolts,
plus a gigantic flake which is the only thing I'd call bomber.
Steve comes up and we have to wait a half hour for the Spaniards
to vacate the belay.

Steve begins to lead the Great Roof pitch, this is a long pitch
and there is not as much fixed gear as I had expected.  Steve is
about 20' up hanging off a fixed stopper and reaching for a pin
when the stopper pulls.  He has left nothing in below and is in
for a 40' factor 2 screamer past the belay.

Steve:

Yep, I was backcleaning my gear figuring that the fixed stopper
would be bomber. Ha! I was moving to the top step of my aiders
so that I could reach a fixed pin in one long reach when "ping!"
and I am airborn. Two distinct thoughts fired in my brain as I
accelerated:

"Gee Whiz I'm glad my aider is clipped to my daisy chain", and
"Wow, no gear in. I've never taken a factor 2 fall before."

And I still haven't take a factor 2 fall because I hit the belay
and was stopped by a loop of rope. Much of the energy of my
fall was absorbed by the pig, and I swear I heard it squeal from
the impact.

"Damage Report!"

"Everything is fine captain, except for a minor twinge of pain in
the right knee."

"Resume course, warp 2. After the adrenaline rush subsides."

It was George's turn to offer consolation and optimism.

Whew! George?

It happens so fast I don't have much time to react, but foolishly
I find myself trying to catch him with my non-belay hand as he
goes by.  He hooks a leg in one of the anchors, flips upside down
and lands on the haul bag, held there tenuously by his foot.
I grab him by the rack, but realize this is dumb as I can't
hold him if his foot comes loose, and hunt around for one of
his daisy chains to clip him in.  Soon he is stabilized, and
although he has wrenched his knee he is otherwise uninjured.
Another long fall ends well.

Soon Steve feels up to leading once more, this time much more
conservatively, leaving lots of gear in.  He is really running
out of biners by the end of the pitch but by cannibalizing the rack
he makes it.  What a spectacular pitch!!  I jug up the rope and
then re-lead the traverse while Steve belays.  The belay has got
to be one of the most exposed on the climb.

Above the famous Pancake Flake pitch looms, mere 10a with 1500 feet
of exposure below.  With Steve's encouragement I manage to free
the first 30' or so, but soon am in my aiders.  The top of
this pitch is very thin and is the first aid I have encountered
which is a little tricky.  Some exciting free moves end at a nice
ledge and bolts.  The Spanish have by now outpaced us and are
already at the Glowering Spot.  The Japanese are rumored to be
just ahead of them.

Steve leads the next pitch, a horrible flared crack.  When Bill did
the Nose, it took the Loobster 2 hours to lead this in the dark and I
can believe it.  Steve takes less time in the light and eventually
he runs out the upper part of the pitch past the tiers of Camp 5.
It is already 3:30PM; we can likely get to Camp 6 but fear that
the Spaniards and Japanese will be filling it.  We decide the smart
thing to do is to move on, but if Camp 6 is full we'll rap back down
to Camp 5, leaving our ropes fixed.

The Japanese have been looming above us the whole day, psychologically
even if we still can't see them.  They started 2 days before us yet they
are only just ahead.  Passing another party appears very complicated,
they may prevent us from getting off this climb tomorrow.
Steve takes the next two leads to speed things up, also I am
experiencing a lack of motivation.  Below us we can hear a party
of Norwegians who came from the Triple Direct, plus the mixed party
of 3 we passed at Sickle Ledge.  These crowds are really bumming me
out.  It seems wherever we spend the night it will be crowded.

Steve blasts up the Glowering spot pitch, and then leads another
short aid pitch up an awkward flared slot.  Here he speaks with the
Spanish, who tell us Camp 6 is full.  So we rap back down to Camp 5.
Steve takes the uppermost spot and myself the best ledge of all,
the one farthest west.

As we are eating dinner (my wife's zuchinni bread) the Norwegian leader
arrives, asking us if there is an anchor for their portaledge.  There
are 3 bolts just west of my ledge but I don't want them there as they will
get all tangled in my ledge.  Eventually they begin setting up their
ledge hanging from a crack just east of me.

Steve jugs back up to his site after dinner and I settle down for a long
night.  The party of 3 soon shows up and they are none too happy.
Because of ourselves and the Spaniards blocking the way they have spent
their first night on Dolt Tower and their second only on El Cap Tower.
Now they are stuck with the worst ledge on Camp 5.  Repeatedly they
ask me if there is room for another where I am.  I reply that this
ledge is 1 1/2 ensolite pads wide.  Really there is no way for 2
people to lie down here, although it is a much better ledge than the
one they have.

I feel badly for these guys but I really can't help them out.
The only thing that would really help them would be to rotate
sleeping on this ledge but this will involve coordinated rapping
off and jugging up, and all our gear is strewn about this ledge
(clipped in, of course, but still strewn).  So despite my great
ledge I have trouble sleeping.

Steve's Comments:

After the pathetic night previously endured, I was pleased to have
a narrow, sloping ledge that I could almost stretch out on. My feet
hung off the edge but that was OK. I was just going off to sleep
when another party of 3 arrived asking if there was room in the
inn. Ugh! You've gotta be kidding. There are 4 ledges spread over
60 feet and none of them is large enough for more than a single
person to lie down on. The New Zealand-OZ-New Mexico trio settled
down to a grumpy night on the lower tiers. They blamed their woes
on "Those damn Spaniards" who had jumped on the route ahead of them.
Our concern for tomorrow isn't the Spaniards, but getting around
the Japanese so that we can get off the route tomorrow.

Yawn. Whatta full day we had... The Great Roof, Pancake Flake, Glowering
Spot... yawn... lotta history there... Zzzzzzzz.  (

Good morning George! George?

Sept 20th.  Steve and I are up at 4AM.  The Spaniards promised us
the night before that if we got to Camp 6 by 7AM we could jug their
fixed line and get past the Japanese.  We feel that we must get past
the Japanese to make it off today.

We quickly jug the lines to our high point.  One more short pitch
to Camp 6 remains, and I agree to lead it.  It is a bizarre wandering
pitch which goes free at only 5.8.  First you go down and right
about 30', then up and back left.  When Bill led this he says he left
only one piece of pro to make it easy to jumar but I wasn't able
to duplicate this.  I left in about 4 pieces which made it difficult
for Steve to follow on jumars.

As I arrived at Camp 6 all I saw was the 3 Spaniards.  "Donde esta
Japan??" I asked.  Turns out the Japanese had climbed all last night
to get off, topping out at 4AM!!  So our early start was not needed.
But it did put the pressure off us from the lower parties, I'm sure
as soon as they discovered how good my ledge was they would be
cursing me!!

Camp 6 I think smells a lot better since the Nose clean up.  They
removed most of the garbage from the crack, and I was angry to
see 5 new water bottles with Japanese writing stuffed into it.
We were also the only party we saw with a poop tube, it seems
there is no way to keep these popular climbs from getting trashed.

The pitch off Camp 6 is very long, and Steve did not need to rush it.
I realized that this was the famed "Houdini" pitch, one of the two 5.13
cruxes on Lynn Hill's free ascent.  We marveled at how she was
able to free climb this overhanging dihedral.

The end of the pitch is a total hanging belay.  We had done quite
well keeping the ropes from getting snarled.  The extra time taken
to butterfly each rope and hang it off a runner always seemed
well spent.  The next pitch follows a perfect #1 Camalot crack around
a corner, where it turns into a perfect 5.8 hand crack.  But above
here was a horrible sight - the death block was still there!!

Quang-Tuan Luong had thought that the flake was cleaned from the wall during
the recent Nose cleanup, but clearly he was wrong.  The next belay sits
literally right under the hanging block, about the size of a piano
and leaning off an old set of bleached slings.  I resigned myself
to my fate and took up residence under the guillotine.

Steve jugged up and then tried to figure out how to get past the block
without weighting it.  The geometry is such that if it goes it
will fall right through the belay, with no hope for either of us.
With Steve aiding the crack above the block, it was obvious the major
hazard was him falling on the thing.  This caused him much
concern and made him climb very conservatively, an attitude I
supported 200% considering my position.  About 40' up there is
another smaller loose block which requires further care.

Steve:

Ooohhhhhh, the death block. What a rude surprise. I felt
sick, nauseated, aiding so delicately  around the block. Once
wedged into a large flared groove, it has slipped out several
feet so that it now covers the original belay bolts. It is
held in place by many old slings attached to a bolt and pro in
the flared groove. The block blew my composure for the
rest of the pitch. I hope it falls away some icy January day
when noone is around.

George?

Steve's belay ended at a horrible flaring groove.  A paradise
compared with my previous station but still I was anxious to continue
upward as soon as possible.  The exposure here was rather awesome
and Steve spent some time taking photos down at me.  Soon I was
off on the second to the last pitch - a fixed traverse followed
by some free moves and then a short, steep crack.  Then I was
staring up at the last pitch - Harding's famous bolt ladder.

It was hard for us to believe we were on the last pitch of the Nose,
with all the uncertainty of the crowds and getting off in time, as
well as the falls experienced by both of us.  I had already agreed
to let Steve lead this pitch; as he had taken the harder and scarier
leads of the climb I felt he deserved it.

The last pitch is very easy, with the new 3/8" bolts on it Steve
didn't even bother to leave draws on most of them.  Despite
what everyone says I actually heard him say off belay, and then
I lowered out the sack.  Then I followed the pitch on belay,
hopping my aiders from bolt to bolt.

I struggled with the pig, stuck under a roof, and then we did
one more short pitch to a tree where we could unrope and pack up.
We felt tremendous relief, but we still needed to hurry as it
was actually past 5PM and would be getting dark before too long.

Steve:

The top! It's wonderful to unrope and walk around after 4 days
on the rock. To set things down and not have to clip them in to keep
them from rolling away. Still, I feel a twinge of sadness that its all
over... I was just getting accustomed to the vertical world.

George:

We pack up the monster pig, which was incredibly bulky and
heavy even with no water, and struggled to the actual summit of
El Cap in the twilight.  We hoped to take the Falls trail all
the way down tonight but we were too tired and crashed just
before the junction where it starts down.


Sept 21st.  Steve is supposed to pick up his wife at the Oakland
Airport today at 4PM so there's no time to waste.  We pack up
and walk down the Falls trail, which is technically closed due to
a recent rockfall.  But we're hoping to claim ignorance if caught.
We reach the Valley bottom by 9AM but still have to hitchhike back
to the car.  I sort the rack while Steve hitchhikes, then we
down a huge breakfast at the cafeteria, shower and then to
El Cap meadows to pick up our first two fixed lines, which we
left hanging off the first anchor so they wouldn't be stolen.

Another mob scene is apparent in the Stovelegs, however there are
no fixed lines in place now except our own.  We race out of
the Valley by 1PM, certain not to make it to Oakland on time.
We spent a whole week in Yosemite Valley and completed only one
climb.  Yes, but what a climb!

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