Matt's Climbing Page - The Prow Trip Report

Climbing Main

Best of the Best

Beta
Squamish
Central BC
Skaha
Northwest BC
BC Alpine
Rockies

Trip Reports
Photo Gallery
Links

September, 2000

At 2 am, after 4 hours of anticipated delays and another 8 hours of unanticipated ones, we finally got on the road and out of Vancouver. Sliding quickly across the border and through Washington under cover of darkness, we just managed to squeeze through Portland before the Friday morning rush hour hit at 6am. A brief stop for breakfast then back on the road for the haul through Oregon. We reached our next stop - rainy Sacramento - at 2pm, just in time for Friday afternoon gridlock. As Anne was about to start a 3 month Outward Bound course (the next day) and needed hiking boots we spent the next 7 hours searching for and running between miscellaneous outdoor stores, before getting back on the road for the final stretch to the mystical climber's paradise of Yosemite.

El Capitan! No matter how many photos you see, you still don't expect it to be as large as when you first see it

As we neared The Valley the roads got narrower and windier and the fog and rain intensified, as did my exhaustion from having driven almost the whole way and not sleeping the night before. At about 2am, we finally reached park, and set about to find a campsite. We soon realized this was not going to happen, at least not before I fell asleep and dreamily piloted the car through the firs and sequoias into Crane Creek. Eventually we found a pullout on the side of the road and were quickly asleep, fully expecting to be woken at 6am the next morning by a ranger extolling the evils of sleeping in one's car in a national park. In the end it was not until 10am that the ranger came rapping on the window, letting us off with "just a warning this time, but don't do it again". It is quite surprising how well one can sleep on a crashpad rolled up in the back seat of a small car when really tired!

As the storm cleared that morning, Anne took a bus to Fresno to start her trip, and I set about playing tourist in the Valley and getting my bearings. I couldn't get into camp 4 that night, so I found a spot just outside the park on the Merced River and got some much needed sleep. The next morning I returned to the park and hit camp 4 to find a partner. The first guy I talked to was a 45 year old Chicagoite, who had just been laid off from his job and had taken his severance cheque and bought a bunch of wall gear, then told his wife he'd see her in a couple months and driven out west. Tom was planning on heading up to solo The Prow that day, but after talking to him for a while we decided to go cragging for a day or two, then possibly do The Prow together later in the week.

Half Dome and the Merced River on a beuatiful September day

We opted to start with Central Pillar of Frenzy, a classic 5 pitches of 5.9 up Middle Cathedral Rock. For a 5-star route with a 15 minute approach at 11am on Sunday of the last long weekend of the summer in perfect weather, we expected to be waiting for other parties. Amazingly however we were the first party on the entire Middle Cathedral. Apparently the storm which had cleared as I arrived had scared all the climbers out of the Valley! The route was highly enjoyable, up cracks on beautiful smooth white and orange granite, with the highlight being an intimidating though not too difficult 1 metre roof on the 3rd pitch. The slick granite took a bit of getting used to, as it offered much less friction than crystally Squamish rock, but the climbing was fantastic. Aside from getting the rope stuck on the last rappel, the day went off without a hitch.

The next day we hooked up with former Vancouverite Alistair Veitch, and played on the sunny rock of Churchbowl Terrace. The highlight of the day was Serenity Crack, 3 beautiful pitches of mostly 10a finger and hand crack with a viciously thin 10d crux where I learned firsthand that #0 TCUs can hold good lead falls. We finished off the day with some more enjoyable single pitch cracks before heading to curry village for beer and pizza, then back to camp 4 for some sleep.

After all the cragging beneath the big walls, it was time to get on something long. So Tuesday was spent preparing for The Prow, which would be my first big wall (hell, my first aid climb for that matter), and tom's first wall since he had climbed Half Dome 25 years earlier. After spending the morning buying food and packing the haulbag, we went up to Glacier Point for pictures of sunset over Half Dome and the Sierras and to catch a good look at our route on Washington Column across the valley.

Wednesday we were up at 5:30, and getting lost in the forest on the approach to the route by 7. After nearly 2 hours we finally arrived at the base of the wall. We relaxed for a bit, as another party was on the second pitch, then sorted out our gear and ourselves. The plan was to fix the first 3 pitches, then sleep on the ground. By about 10:30 I started up the first pitch, my first aid lead ever. The pitch started out thin hands, and could have gone free at 5.10, but I figured it was a good idea to get the aid thing figured out on easy ground, even if it slowed me down a bit. Soon all was going well - if slowly - leapfrogging cams before a traverse to the steep and thin section before the sloping ledge atop the first pitch. At the top, I fixed the lead line for Tom to jug, then set about trying to figure out the whole hauling deal. It turned out to be not too difficult, and soon the bag was slowly grinding up towards me.

As this was my first wall we were a bit short on gear. I had no ledge, only tied off slings for daisy chains, and we were sharing a single pair of jumars between us. We had agreed that the leader would take one jumar for hauling, while the second would use one plus a prussik to jug the lines. This slowed us down a bit as jumaring became a real pain, fighting with sticky prussiks most of the way.

Before too long Tom reached the ledge, we sorted ourselves out, and he started up on the second pitch. By this time it was already early afternoon. Tom made slow progress aiding up the thin corner on micro nuts and cams with occasional fixed pins or copperheads, and linked the 2nd and 3rd pitches together over a long lead of perhaps 4 hours. Thankfully I had a nice ledge to relax on, catnapping in the shade and feeding the occasional bit of slack through the grigri. Eventually Tom yelled that he was secure and ready to haul, and I started jumarring up the 60 metres of fixed line. I had jumared one pitch before in my life, about 15 plumb line metres with 2 proper jumars and little rope stretch. A full rope worth of stretch plus my improvised setup and a few traversing and bulging bits complicated things, and it took me an exhausting hour to jumar, arriving at the belay just as darkness hit.

The party above had fixed the next pitch then set up a bivi on anchorage ledge atop the 3rd pitch, complicating our belay and hauling. Eventually we managed to untangle ourselves from the clusterfuck and rapped to the ground for a hearty dinner of cold ravioli, before a few hours of poor sleep on the hard and uneven ground.

The next morning saw us awake and moving slowly at a semi reasonable hour, though the party at anchorage ledge was moving slowly too so there was no point in rushing. Jugging was a pain with a heavy day pack containing all our bivi gear from the night before and the single jumar, and we reached the ledge as the sun hit and it started to warm up. I started up the pitch, a few bolts to an enjoyable thin seam that took its share or RPs and offsets and small cams, as well as a few fixed copperheads. Within a couple hours I had reached the hanging belay and started hauling as Tom jugged, took the rack and started the next pitch.

Unlike my previous marathon belay on the comfy ledge lower down, this time I had only 2 bolts in a blank sea of vertical granite to hang from. By leaving the etriers on the anchor as steps, I could shift my weight every ten to fifteen minutes to rotate the body parts that were going numb. As Tom made slow progress, it became obvious that we were not going to make it the 5 pitches we needed to get to the next set of ledges, and I began to have my doubts. After about an hour, I looked to the side of the belay and realized the haul line that Tom would need to haul the bag was still clipped to the anchor.

"Hey Tom"
"Ya?"
"Uh, you realize the haul line is still down here?"
"What?"
"YOU DON'T HAVE THE HAUL LINE!"
"SHIT!"

Early morning after our second night sharing a single portaledge on the wall

So I lowered Tom back to the belay, he took the line and started yarding back up the rope as I pulled in the slack. The incident not only cost us a fair bit of time, but served to remind me how inexperienced we were and strengthen my doubts. As the belay became increasingly uncomfortable, Tom continued to make slow progress, finally getting to the long and reachy bolt ladder with no noticeable change in pace. "Let's Hurry it up, you're on a bolt ladder for fuck's sake!" I mouthed, but toned it down to a tactful "How're you doing up there Tom?" Still, it didn't speed things up, and we were in the shade by the time I got up to the belay. We had only a single portaledge between us, and the next ledge was still 3 pitches away. I felt like bailing, knowing there was no way were getting to the top of this thing the next day, but kept my mouth shut, as I knew Tom wanted to keep plodding along. He had bailed early off the last couple walls he had tried, and I think he saw this time as a real test of whether he was up for big walls any more. We talked a bit, and agreed to keep going, figuring we would just share the portaledge wherever we ended up.

I took the next pitch, another fine thin seam with many fixed heads that gradually arched right towards the top of the vertical headwall. The climbing was enjoyable as I tried to race the shadows creeping up Half Dome across the valley, but dusk overtook me before I reached the belay. By the time I had hauled the bag and Tom arrived it was getting dark, so we set about to open the ledge. Tom had set up his shiny new ledge only once before, and that was in his living room. It took us a good hour to get everything organized and the ledge properly adjusted and to an angle which vaguely resembled flat. Finally, we were able to sit down on the ledge but couldn't find the can opener in the hard-to-get-at haulbag, so dinner consisted of cold bagels and salami.

In theory, a portaledge is a really comfortable place for a single climber to sleep, but we never got to test that theory as there were always the two of us on the ledge, trying to sleep with our feet on each others chests. The first night I got my head at the downward sloping end, so every half hour or so I'd wake up with my head dangling in space of the end of the portaledge and have to pull myself back up.

Despite being less than spacious, spending a night on the ledge was really cool. The time was passed alternating between brief moments of sleep and looking down into the thick blackness below or watching the stars slowly rotating across the moonlit silhouette of Half Dome. Before long the eastern sky began to fade from black to an ever lightening shade of blue, and we set about the task of breakfast. Some granola and a shared can of fruit cocktail and it was time to start making sense of our mess of ropes and slings and bags and other bits and pieces of gear. It took us a good hour to get organized, but eventually we were ready to go and Tom set out on the next pitch, the Strange Dihedral.

Tom on the final aid moves before the crumbling 4th class to the top

30 years of bashing pins into the dihedral has left it somewhat less strange than when Royal Robbins first led it. It now takes lots of small nuts and cams and the only really exciting bit was where Tom attempted a silly hook move to avoid top stepping. It took Tom a few minutes to finally commit to the hook that was too small for the edge, only to have it pop off as soon as he stepped up. The piece below held, and the only damage was a few scraped knuckles and perhaps a loss of confidence in hooks. Tom got back up and managed to get by the section by top stepping in his aiders, and finished off the rest of the pitch without incident, ending at a stance nearly big enough to stand on, the biggest stance we had since in almost 2 days.

The next pitch was mine, a tension traverse off a ratty fixed pin to a curving crack which took a series of tiny offset brass nuts interspersed with fixed copperheads and dicey pins. At the top of the crack I managed to get in a couple good pieces, before a poorly protected free section. I've always found the transition from aid to free climbing very frightening, leaving the solid foot loops of the etriers for smeared running shoes on the rock. This section was not that hard, perhaps 5.7, but with a heavy aid rack and bad rope drag the balancy moves a thousand feet off the deck were very intimidated. 15 metres higher the sloping ledges of Taper Terraces - our planned bivi of the previous night- where reached. I was actually quite glad that we had not made it here the night before, as Tom would have enjoyed the luxury of the portaledge while I would have been relegated to a night on the uneven and outward sloping rock ledge.

From here Tom took the next lead up a short but slow corner above, while I sat back on the ledge and once again watched the shadows creep up the valley. After about 25 metres the rope stopped moving, so I assumed Tom had reached the belay. 30 minutes later, nothing had happened, so I began to wonder what he was up to.

"What's going on up there?" No response
"Hey Tom! What are you doing up there?" I yelled. Eventually I got a mumbled response that he was just at the belay.
"Is the lead line fixed?"
"Not yet"

Another 40 minutes ensued with me wondering how the hell it could possibly take an hour to rig a belay before finally Tom let me know that the lead line was fixed and he was ready to haul. I released the pig and started jugging, glad to be finally moving again. When I reached the belay I was treated to The Most Incredible Gear Belay Ever. Tom had rigged a fantastic belay consisting of 4 equalized pieces for the lead line, as well as a separate 4 point anchor for hauling. Between these and a bolt out on the wall a few lengths of rope ran back and forth so that we could clip gear in above our bivi without the ensuing clusterfuck of the previous night. Well worth the wait!

The next morning we got going much more smoothly, thanks in part to Tom's fantastic belay setup. I climbed back up to my high point from the night before, then a few more aid moves and I was into an awkward 5.8 chimney that ran to the end of the 60 metre rope, ending at a fantastic ledge. As the rock was now somewhat lower angle, hauling became a real pain. Tom had to free it from the little roofs and lips as he jumared, and I had to push off the anchor with my feet above my head while pulling up on one end of the rope and down the other end through the pulley in order to overcome the friction.

On level ground! Glad to be on top after three and a half days on the wall

As I had lost the coin toss and was the only one with climbing shoes, the next pitch was mine as well. Up the chimney some more then a couple aid moves into an awkward 5.9 corner which I ended up aiding most of anyway. Above it the rock degraded into a series of large balanced blocks. The climbing became easier, but much less secure as the loose blocks wobbled when weighted. The pitch ended with some awkward climbing to an uncomfortable belay on a polished slab. The hauling was again difficult over broken less than vertical terrain, but at least we were near the top. It was quite a relief to know that we would in fact be getting to the top of the route that day!

A couple aid moves past a bolt, then Tom disappeared around the corner. It was hard to hear what he was doing, but eventually he was ready to haul and for me to follow. This ended up being quite awkward on the traversing pitch that Tom had only led half way, stopping at a tree. Above this were 20 metres of 4th class scrambling through decomposing rock which turned to gravel when you pawed at it. I lead up this mostly unprotected section, eyeing the tree halfway down which I would aim for if I fell, then set up an anchor on top and started hauling the pig. Soon enough both of us and the bag were on top, and I ran off to find a bush to take care of some business I had been delaying the past couple days.

It was a wonderful relief to finally be on level ground again, though we were certainly not done yet. We still had to reorganize the bags and gear, and descend down the North Dome Gully and hike back to the car. The descent off Washington Column is certainly no Backside Trail�

30 minutes of wandering through prickly manzanita bushes over steep sandy ground with frequent wrong turns eventually led us to a well cairned trail, and finally a steep gully. The gully would not be too bad, except that it is steep and full of loose sand and gravel so your feet can slip out at any second. Eventually I found that the best technique was to just go for it and when I slipped try to land strategically on top of the haulbag which would act like an anchor and slow me down. The haulbag also worked great for walking through thick bushes, as the added momentum allowed me to plow through small trees which would normally stop me in my tracks. As we neared the short 4th class bit at the bottom of the gully, the sun was sinking low in the sky, but thankfully we made it to the forest before it got completely dark.

Tom, about to fall under the weight of the haulbag

At this point we split up, I headed off to the base of the route to pick up some gear we had left behind, while Tom took the haulbag straight down the trail to the car. After picking up the spare rope and other gear, I bashed my way down through the brush and the boulders, finally arriving at the bike path that wound its way back to the Ahwanee parking lot. Arriving at the car, I took all the soft fleece and down out of the pack and made myself a little bed in the dirt beside the car to settle down for a nap. 2 hours later, Tom had not shown up yet, so I set off to find him. After 20 minutes hiking back up the trail he was stumbling his way down, obviously exhausted. I traded him a bottle of water and some food for the haulbag, and we headed out.

From here it was back to camp 4 to sort gear and trade phone numbers, then I packed up my car and headed to Currie Village for a shower before I hit the road. As it was after midnight the showers were closed, and the Merced river sounded much too cold, so I feel sorry for anyone I met on the drive home!

And so I left the valley under cover of darkness, just as I had entered 8 days earlier.

Notes on the route:

The climbing was very enjoyable, especially the first 8 pitches or so before it gets a bit slabby. Above this, the mixed free and aid was less aesthetic, and hauling became a hassle (better rope management would have helped). Most pitches were easy C2 and a few were C1, mostly straightforward. There is a lot of fixed gear on the route, all the bolts are new 3/8", and all the belays have at least 2 bolts except a couple up top which take good gear. There are also a fair number of old pins and copperheads in various states, but generally they are either decent or unnecessary. Anchorage ledge atop the 3rd pitch is a decent bivi for one, while taper terrace at the 8th pitch offers a sloping bivi for 2 or 3. A portaledge is certainly nice for this route though. All in all, it is a good route, especially as an introductory wall.

The supertopos guide has an up to date topo and gear list. We used the following:

Triple set brass nuts including RP's, HB's and offsets (very useful).
Double set regular nuts (not used that much).
Double set #0 - #3 tcus plus a few small aliens including hybrids (great in pin scars).
Double set cams from #1 friend to #3 camalot size #4 camalot and #5 Friend
Hooks (never used except one Tom tried which blew out)
A few heads (in case fixed heads were missing, never used)
We brought 25 litres of water for the route, planning 4 litres/day for 3 days, but ended up doing 3 litres/day for 4 days with about 1/4 litre left at the top.