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tuolumne_tradster
Trad climber
concord, california
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Topic Author's Original Post - Apr 14, 2007 - 11:49pm PT
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My son Sascha and I climbed the Royal Arches (5.7, A0) route in Yosemite Valley on Tuesday, April 10. I wanted to share an adventure with him similar to some of my early experiences climbing in Yosemite three decades ago. Sascha had done a few routes at Lover’s Leap and in Tuolumne, but this was his first multi-pitch climb in Yosemite. Sascha gym climbs 5.11, so I figured he could climb 5.7 YV trad. Considered one of North America’s 50 Classic climbs, the Royal Arches route is located to the left of the granite arches directly across from Half Dome. It has 15 pitches and goes from the valley floor to the rim. This winter’s snowfall was light, so I figured the spring snowmelt cascading down the route would also be light. The traditional descent is to go down North Dome Gully, a 4th class technical descent that is challenging for experienced parties under good conditions.
The weather forecast was sunny and clear for Tuesday and a chance of rain on Wednesday. As we walked over to eat breakfast at Curry Village, I pointed the route out to Sascha on the other side of the Valley. The sky was clear and it looked like it was going to be ideal conditions for our climb. After a substantial breakfast we drove over to the Awanhee parking lot and gathered our gear. We carried a rucksack, a 70-meter rope, a large rack of cams, slings, carabiners, etc., helmets, walkie-talkies, 3 liters of water, some food, a couple of rain parkas, some minimal survival gear, one pair of light gloves, a headlamp, and a flashlight.
We were the first party to arrive at the base of the climb located a few hundred yards from the Awahnee Hotel at about 8:30 a.m. We did the 5.6 crack alternate start around the corner to the right of the original chimney start. Throughout most of the morning and early afternoon I felt confident we could pull this off and that the adventure I had hoped for was unfolding. We used the walkie-talkies to communicate over the background chatter on the family band frequency. I did all the leading; Sascha followed and cruised every pitch except pitch 9, which involves a short pendulum on a fixed rope followed by a 4th class, cascade-saturated traverse. I felt a tug on the rope when Sascha slipped on the wet traverse.
As one pitch blended into another I became steadily concerned that we weren’t moving fast enough to make the descent gully in daylight. We completed the final pitch, an exposed, poorly protected 5.4 ramp that was variably wet and covered with pine needles, as the sun was setting. We quickly and sloppily coiled the rope and prepared to hike to the North Dome Gully descent, when we noticed that there was quite a bit of water on the granite slab leading into the forest. I didn’t want to take any chances, so I decided to rope up for the exposed traverse. Unfortunately the hastily coiled rope became a rat’s nest as I tried to flake it out. This set us back at least a half hour and it was completely unnecessary since we could have safely done the traverse unroped.
The next few hours were spent hiking toward Washington's Column, to look for the North Dome Gully descent in the moonless dark of night with a headlamp and a flashlight. The satisfaction of completing the climb was quickly replaced with frustration and increasing concern over not finding any resemblance of a trail or a cairn to follow, as we headed along the rim toward Washington’s Column. For short distances, never more than a few 100 feet, we were clearly on what looked like a typical climber’s trail heading in the right direction with occasional cairns. It felt like playing “Pin the Tail on the Donkey” only the donkey is several thousand feet away on the other side of a ridge. If you walk in the wrong direction, there is a 2,000-foot drop.
We clumsily made our way up the gently dipping granite slabs over the ridge north of Washington’s Column. As we descended on the east side of the ridge, we ended up bushwacking through acres of madrone. This was exhausting and demoralizing. I grew increasingly concerned that we were depleting our remaining internal resources engaged in a futile exercise. Even if we could find the descent it would be insane to attempt it on an overcast, moonless night, especially given our level of fatigue. Around 11 p.m. we found meager shelter under a nearby boulder for a bivouac. Unbeknownst to us, my wife Ingrid was calling the National Park Service in Yosemite to notify them that we had not reported back from the climb. As we prepared for our bivouac, I was horrified to realize that we had managed to lose Sascha’s rain parka. I struggled to maintain my composure knowing the magnitude of our predicament. We broke open and activated the hand-warmer packages and pretended to sleep. Although I doubt either of us got much sleep, we survived the night reasonably well huddled together to stay warm covered with garbage bags and a space blanket. Cloud cover kept the nighttime low temperature above freezing. In retrospect, my survival gear was a bit light.
We got up first light (~ 6 a.m.) on Wednesday morning to 80% cloud cover and a storm brewing to the east. The visibility was not much better now but I could see that we were east of Washington's Column and a bit too high on the ridge. Apparently we had been following a trail marked with sparse cairns that lead somewhere else. I estimated that it would begin snowing in 1 to 2 hours, rendering the descent much too dangerous to consider. My inner voice began echoing “You’ve seen this movie before and it has a bad ending.“ With less than adequate gear to survive another day of exposure, especially at below freezing temperatures, I began broadcasting using our walkie-talkies. This was not an easy decision. In 30 years of climbing I have always managed to get myself down safely. I broadcast for about 1 hour before someone named 'Jimmy' somewhere in Yosemite Valley responded. I asked Jimmy to contact a ranger and tell him that we were on the rim near Washington's Column and didn't think we could survive the impending storm. Less than an hour later I was in radio communication with John Dill of Yosemite Search and Rescue (YOSAR) one of the top technical mountain rescue organizations on the planet.
Around 7 a.m. John Dill went over to Happy Isles to see if he could spot us with binoculars. At first he couldn't see us, so I waved the space blanket. Over the radio Dill reported that the blanket had appeared in the center of his field-of-view. Now that he had located us, Dill dispatched a 3-person team consisting of Keith Lober (15 year YOSAR veteran) and two climbing rangers (Rob and Matt) to meet up with us. They began their ascent of the Gully probably around 7:30 a.m. carrying climbing equipment, first aid, fluids, food, and warm clothes.
It began snowing around 8:00 a.m. Initially the snow was light and came at us from the north. We sheltered on the lee side of the wind under pine trees that protected us reasonably well from the snow. This changed about an hour later when the storm increased in intensity and the wind shifted 180 degrees. Cold, wet snow came at us horizontally like we were being sprayed with a fire hose. I sheltered Sascha with the space blanket and garbage bags as best I could as the snow accumulated around us. It felt like we had been ambushed and the enemy was letting us have it. At one point, Sascha pulled down the space blanket to look at the conditions and he was shocked at what he saw. We were suddenly in winter. Sascha quickly pulled the space blanket back over his head. I radioed YOSAR to inquire about progress. They informed me that they were hampered by the storm but that they would continue to meet up with us.
Around 10 a.m. Keith reported over the radio that they were near us and that he was sending up flares to see if we could see them. He sent up a total of 4 flares of which I saw only one, as it descended several 100 ft to the east. Keith instructed us to rendezvous with them where Washington's Column meets the ridge, the start of the gully descent. Sascha and I started in that direction as the storm raged on. I was becoming increasingly concerned that Sascha's inner core temperature was beginning to drop into hypothermia. Shortly after bushwacking through acres of madrone the night before, we passed an ideal bivouac location under a large granite boulder, where we could have stayed dry and built a fire. Because I hadn’t given up hope of descending at that time, we had passed on this opportunity. In retrospect, that was a mistake.
We scrambled over the snow-covered brush and talus toward the rendezvous location slipping, sliding, and falling like a couple of drunken sailors. As we approached the rendezvous, we came across a boulder that provided enough cover to shelter Sascha. I started calling out to see if they could hear me, while they were using a whistle to try to contact us. I radioed to Keith that I was close and that I had sheltered Sascha under a boulder. I asked him if I should to try to find them on my own and then we could come back for Sascha. He instructed me not to leave Sascha unattended. A few minutes later, the storm paused long enough for me to see them about 100 feet away. After making eye contact I quickly brought Sascha over to them. They immediately assessed Sascha’s condition and attended to him. They administered glucose-rich fluids, and outfitted a "hot" vest and a parka. They also fixed an MRE (meals ready to eat) for him. While the two Rangers attended to Sascha, Keith described how we were to descend. We roped together, with Keith leading and periodically placing pro consisting mainly of slings on trees with an occasional camming device in a crack. I was tied in about 40 to 50 ft behind Keith, then Sascha with Ranger Rob tied in next to him about 50 ft behind me, and ranger Matt tied in at the end of the rope. As we descended and Sascha's core temperature recovered, the pain in his extremities was so intense that he began screaming. Keith had the Gully wired. We descended to the valley floor roped together without incident as the storm subsided.
Thanks mainly to YOSAR, but also to a walkie-talkie, and someone named ‘Jimmy’, Sascha and I were back down by 2 p.m. After calling my wife, changing into dry clothes, and eating a warm meal, John Dill conducted a half hour long taped interview with us to document the rescue for their records. He asked some good and some tough questions during the interview. Given Sascha's experience level and the serious nature of the descent, this was too ambitious a climb for this father-son team. Sascha wants to do 3 to 4 pitch climbs with easy descents for now.
off belay, vic
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Russ Walling
Social climber
Out on the sand.... man.....
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Apr 15, 2007 - 12:07am PT
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wow! great story!
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elcap-pics
climber
Crestline CA
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Apr 15, 2007 - 12:09am PT
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Yo... yeah those YOSAR guys and gals are tops in their field, great that we have them.... nice adventure.... actually you were smart to contact them so soon and not try to gut it out on your own... glad it worked out for you guys...
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Mungeclimber
Trad climber
one pass away from the big ditch
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Apr 15, 2007 - 12:24am PT
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Read like full version of Accidents in NA Mountaineering, good fodder for the rest of us.
thx for the courage to post
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tuolumne_tradster
Trad climber
concord, california
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 15, 2007 - 12:57am PT
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need to check Sascha's speed on shorter multipitch first.
After 6 would have been a better choice.
8:30am is too casual a starting time for Royal Arches if your speed is in question.
Agreed.
have a "turnaround time" preset in terms of when you reach the pendulum pitch. If you are late, you can rap the route below using trees.
Excellent suggestion
the rappel route is probably faster than North Dome Gully, but could be tricky to manage with a novice.
Agreed.
2 headlamps.
Agreed.
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tuolumne_tradster
Trad climber
concord, california
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 15, 2007 - 01:04am PT
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Did you feel the radios slowed you down?
No, not at all and they were instrumental in saving our lives. Our back up is 3 tugs if the radios aren't working.
EDIT: the fact that I lead every pitch and had to flake the rope each time slowed us down.
A 60m rope (smaller slack pile) and using 3 rope tugs when the follower is on belay (if unable to hear each other) could be faster.
Agree 60 m rope would be lighter with smaller slack...we never used the extra 10 m.
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Apr 15, 2007 - 01:24am PT
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vic,
As Tom mentioned, good work on calling it in before it was too late. Hopefully it will be a fun experience the next time you climb with Sascha.
If it helps, I have underestimated that route in the past myself - after having simulclimbed it in a few hours, some years later I climbing it with a relative novice, where I had to stop and belay a lot, and was surprised how long it took and how tired I got (a heavier than normal pack and lack of sleep the night before didn't help, either). Often the slowness is caused by congestion on the route, too (that was a positive for you on Tuesday). A couple of my friends (one very experienced) did it last October, descended North Dome Gully in moonlight and got down at about 3am.
Once I was descending North Dome Gully with some experienced climbers and there was a disagreement about where the descent went exactly (even though I was fully sure where to go because I had been there recently and in daylight). So I followed them uphill a bit slowly (where we needed to go down), until they soon agreed it was down after all. I was also benighted on top of the Column in October once when our single headlamp died. Brrr, fortunately it didn't rain or snow.
I suppose a conclusion is that I have bumbled a lot up there, but the weather was friendly every time so I didn't have to pay the price.
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
San Francisco, CA
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Apr 15, 2007 - 12:13pm PT
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Yeah I agree with Clint et al, thanks for the frank and revealing account. And it’s a bit of a shame that Sascha had to have this be his first Valley climb. Hopefully he will still be game for climbing soon. Many would not have shared this tale with us, btw, as it got pretty serious apparently, and even required YOSAR. The typical response over the years to this kind of experience is to keep quiet. So thanks again for sharing. Here is a brief account of my own that might add some perspective to your recent debacle.
I had a forced bivouac in the Gully somewhere in the upper section of the descent. Vandiver and I had unroped the Column and North Dome one March back in 1971 as a Spring training concept and with an approaching storm were forced to stop with nothing but turtlenecks and cotton pants on, after a near-fatal slip on scree in the dark, thinking to start descending too early. For a moment Vandiver had thought that I had gone over the edge and died; I still remember his hoarse and horror-filled voice calling to me. We had started the climbs about Noon, I think, having yakked ourselves silly that morning in the cafeteria. The storm began as rain and eventually turned to sleet and snow, with fortunately only slight gusts.
At this point our protection was just a boulder in the steep slope, overhanging a tiny little spot downslope on to which the two of us crowded ourselves all night with a silly fire made from the green branches of a sad little oak nearby. We could not go on as I was really bruised up and there was absolutely no light left under the heavy, increasing cloud cover. By the end of the night, the oak had no leaves or branches left and our fire could not go on. We fought off trickles and drips off the big rock sheltering us the whole time. I remember waking to dawn, with the snow line just about at our level and visible across Tenaya below Half Dome. We had had to hug all night, trembling and shaking but knew we would be okay. This was one of the bivouacs where I used Ace bandages around face and head for protection.
I guess at the time we were only mildly irritated by our poor judgement in leaving so late, and once again impressed with how DEADLY North Dome Gully can be. I think it probably is the most dangerous descent commonly used in the Valley and frequented by all levels of climbers. It is not only armed with the huge East Face of the Column for thousands of feet along the path, but is often loose, screefilled, circuitous in nature, and always a lot longer than one remembers before actually heading downwards. And you are usually somewhat tired by this point.
And even more humorously we did the same thing the next year, but had opted to descend off of North Dome via the Falls trail instead but along which we again bivied in the same ill-prepared manner, though this time in the rim’s primeval forest and in good but frigid weather. There is no limit to the vigor and stupidity of youth . We had left earlier but encountered Dick Long, Al Steck, the other Les Wilson roped up on the North Dome liebacks way up high and they would not let us climb through. In fact Al was not approving of us just hanging there, no ropes, no equipment and just could not countenance letting us climb over them in this manner. And Dick got his old-fashioned mountain boot stuck in the crux lieback pitch too, and had to hammer it out. All the time Chris and I were just standing there on the sloping holds watching. We lost critical hours here, and that year’s new and improved plan again collapsed into improvisation.
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yo
climber
The Eye of the Snail
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Apr 15, 2007 - 12:49pm PT
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Fantastic. Not to spray but I think I can contribute here. Don't sweat ol' Sash -- he'll grow up all hard and old school. Every single climb I did with my dad was like this. Every single frickin one. We did Sentinel with one headlamp and a quart of H20. The Grand with one headlamp (we took cotton sweatshirts for that one, though, 'cause it's chilly up there and stuff.) Did the Nose with bivy sacks (meaning only bivy sacks) and what turned out, after smashing our water on the Stoveleg penji, to be about a half quart per man/day. Luckily water fell out of the sky or we would've been in trouble. Man those bivy sacks were cozy, though. Reminds me, on the Grand, bivying somewhere around the saddle, we dusted off a circa 1960 two-man sack. Why'd they discontinue those mamas, I wonder? Then there was the Lurking Fear with hammocks plan -- forward thinking if it hadn't been 1997. What else? Got so into the spirit of the Salathe that we hauled over a biner using a jumar. The bag was light because I think this was when we ran completely out of water and had to climb the last half of the route in a day so we didn't die and then spend the rest of the night poking along the top of every route on the Cap looking for water. (Thank you Zodiac noobs!) There are others but I've sorta blocked them out. Seems like maybe we should check out the RA. Anyway, awesome story. I give you two six months before you're out having an epic again. It's the best!*
(*Not actually the best. Not endorsed by John Dill.)
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tuolumne_tradster
Trad climber
concord, california
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 15, 2007 - 01:07pm PT
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Peter: thanks for sharing. I did Crest Jewel on North Dome 7 or 8 years ago with Bill McConachie. There was a party-of-3 behind us all day long. They never caught up to us but I was impressed that the threesome was never far behind. As we sorted gear at Porcupine Flat the party of 3 caught up to us. I was stunned to realize one of them was Alan Steck. He must have been in his 70s.
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Lambone
Ice climber
Ashland, Or
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Apr 15, 2007 - 01:48pm PT
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sounds like a nasty epic.
I guess the only question is, what would you have done without the Motorolas? Do you think you guys could have managed to get down?
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tuolumne_tradster
Trad climber
concord, california
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 15, 2007 - 02:04pm PT
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Lambone: I think we could have managed the gully descent in daylight under good weather conditions. It would have taken us several hours and we would have roped up for a lot of it. Given our condition and lack of survival gear, attempting the descent during the snow storm would have been crazy. My wife knew what climb we were on and she notified the Park Rangers that we had not reported back. The radios allowed me to communicate directly with YOSAR to pinpoint our location & coordinate the rendezvous. That greatly simplified the rescue. I'm glad the batteries were fresh.
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Lambone
Ice climber
Ashland, Or
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Apr 15, 2007 - 02:08pm PT
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yeah, agreed that in a bad storm sometimes it's best to sit it out. I guess the safest thing to do (without radios with rescue) would be to sit it out under one of those big boulders up there and try to build a fire. and wait until the rescue that the wife calls shows up!
glad you are ok, and hope your son isn't too traumitized!
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tuolumne_tradster
Trad climber
concord, california
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 15, 2007 - 02:18pm PT
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Yo: thanks man...I appreciate your input. Sascha is already looking forward to our next climb. He just wants to tone it down a bit. 3 to 4 pitches with a straightforward descent. Sentinel with 1 headlamp & 1 quart of H20. As they say...that takes "huevos grandes"
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tuolumne_tradster
Trad climber
concord, california
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 15, 2007 - 02:28pm PT
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Lambone: that's what Dill recommended during the interview. We passed a couple of ideal bivy spots during the night with adequate cover where we could have built a fire and waited out the storm. It was like passing up a reasonably priced luxury home only to pay more for a dump in a questionable neigborhood.
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cliffhanger
Trad climber
California
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Apr 15, 2007 - 02:40pm PT
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A long but easy hike north thru the notch west of North Dome, continuing until you hit the Snow Creek trail and then down to the valley is a safe class 1 option. Plus there is plenty of wood for shelter and fire everywhere. Hiking generates alot of heat and is better than a cold miserable bivouac on the treacherous North Dome gully route.
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tuolumne_tradster
Trad climber
concord, california
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 15, 2007 - 02:51pm PT
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Thanks Cliffhanger. I've hiked on Snow Creek trail but it never occured to me that we could have used it to get down from where we were. I'll check it out.
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
San Francisco, CA
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Apr 15, 2007 - 02:52pm PT
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I guess worth emphasizing here, as we have before on ST, that there is:
AN ENORMOUS REALLY GOOD BIVY SITE just east of the top of the Column along the main "path" towards the Gully. You can get completely out of the the weather there under these giant boulders. However there is no water unless there is snow to melt.
Also I should have added that I grew up in Berkeley and knew Al reasonably well; he ran the Ski Hut, one of the first climbing stores and as youngsters we hung out there a bunch. TTradstr, when you were on Crest Jewel, Al was approximately 76 years old....He is still a friend of mine these days, still climbs but has to watch his heart. I think he is like 84 now. I keep track of him through his closer friend Inez Drixelius. When we ran up to his party unroped back in 1971, we all had a really fun time, especially with Dick Long who was so damned funny and bright. Especially with the boot incident. Al regrets today not letting us climb through them, btw. But the whole time Chris V and I were hanging out there without any rope or anchors, Al was quietly auditing our intentions, knowing the real agenda was to pass them. Very subtly.
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tuolumne_tradster
Trad climber
concord, california
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 15, 2007 - 03:01pm PT
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Peter: we saw the bivy spot you're referring to. Foolishly, in retrospect, I was still hopeful we could make it down, so I passed it up.
RE Alan Steck...climbing Crest Jewel at 76. I hope I can still hike to the top of North Dome from Porcupine Flat when I'm that age.
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SuperTopo on the Web
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need to check Sascha's speed on shorter multipitch first.
Let us know!