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Oli
Trad climber
Fruita, Colorado
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Topic Author's Original Post - May 31, 2007 - 02:58am PT
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Would anyone like to hear a little obscure history of some relatively small but interesting rock climbs in Yosemite, from the golden era circa 1967?
Pat Ament
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Speedy
Big Wall climber
The Valley
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May 31, 2007 - 03:07am PT
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As long as you're willing to type stories about obscure climbs from the 60's, I'm willing to read about them.
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wildone
climber
The Astroman of 5.9
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May 31, 2007 - 03:55am PT
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I'll second that motion!
Years ago, I got my hands on a little pamphlet called something to the effect of, "How to become a master climber in seven easy steps" from a semi-strange (aren't we all) kid named mike, coming through Yosemite from Washington, I believe, who had just had some falling out with his parents based on religion or something. I guess he got the book from you. I really enjoyed it, as it seemed like it was a bunch of little meditations to keep in mind. One that sticks with me to this day was, " A master climber is always aware of the consequences of his actions. Even on the approach, he will never kick rocks down the hill on his partner...", etc
Anything you take the time to type, I'll take the time to read.
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Crimpergirl
Social climber
Hell on earth wondering what I did to deserve it
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May 31, 2007 - 08:40am PT
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PLEASE! I'd love to read what you have to offer -
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snakefoot
climber
cali
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May 31, 2007 - 08:48am PT
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post up
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steelmnkey
climber
Vision man...ya gotta have vision...
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May 31, 2007 - 09:47am PT
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Don't ask...just type.
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Hootervillian
climber
the Hooterville World-Guardian
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May 31, 2007 - 10:05am PT
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hhahahahahahahahahahaa, now that's a troll.
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Jaybro
Social climber
The West
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May 31, 2007 - 10:31am PT
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Hoh yeah
I'd give it a read.
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TwistedCrank
climber
a luxury Malibu rehabilitation treatment facility
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May 31, 2007 - 10:35am PT
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I'm waiting with bated breath (whatever that is). I think we all enjoy good history reads - no matter how obscure.
No trolls though!
I'm sure your posts will be bumped.
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Roger Breedlove
climber
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
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May 31, 2007 - 11:03am PT
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So Pat, were you the kind of teenager who asked for a kiss and then waited for the answer?
Just asking.
Buzz
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Jaybro
Social climber
The West
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May 31, 2007 - 05:46pm PT
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Already hooked a gem from Roger!
Still waiting. What about that higgy stardust for starters?
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Anastasia
Trad climber
California
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May 31, 2007 - 07:49pm PT
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Bump!
Bump!
Bump!
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Anastasia
Trad climber
California
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May 31, 2007 - 08:04pm PT
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Pat,
Please write! I would love to hear your stories! In fact reading your stories would be one of the high points of the year.
Smiles,
Anastasia
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Chicken Skinner
Trad climber
Yosemite
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May 31, 2007 - 08:05pm PT
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Well! I am ready. I have my popcorn.
Ken
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Charlie D.
Trad climber
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May 31, 2007 - 08:08pm PT
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Pat, please do with an emphasis on the interesting people as part of the piece (the climbs are likely still there).
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Crimpergirl
Social climber
Hell on earth wondering what I did to deserve it
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May 31, 2007 - 08:10pm PT
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What a tease!
(bump)
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Anastasia
Trad climber
California
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May 31, 2007 - 08:12pm PT
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Bump!
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Nohea
Trad climber
Aiea,Hi
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May 31, 2007 - 08:15pm PT
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You have our attention out here, Talk story Bra!
Aloha,
wil
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Chicken Skinner
Trad climber
Yosemite
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May 31, 2007 - 08:18pm PT
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It appears you have figured out what a troll is.
Ken
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Anastasia
Trad climber
California
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May 31, 2007 - 08:38pm PT
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Patience is a virtue!
I will keep bumping this whenever I am around...
It is worth the wait.
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Crimpergirl
Social climber
Hell on earth wondering what I did to deserve it
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May 31, 2007 - 08:48pm PT
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What a sly fox...he has everyone begging, and climbing chicks are bumping him. We are his puppets!
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happiegrrrl
Trad climber
New York, NY
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May 31, 2007 - 09:00pm PT
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What a twisted sense of humour Oli has.....grrrr. There's no possible way a person could fanagle a mastery in trolldom of this magnitude in 7 easy lessons.... He must have been practicing for a while....
Oli - if you're not trolling, let's get rolling!
"I'm hooked!"(as in "I'm hit!" like Kramer when he got a lugie lobbed on him at the Yankee game).
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Mighty Hiker
Social climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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May 31, 2007 - 09:06pm PT
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Does Oli = LEB = A. Crowley = ??? Do we even want to go there?
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Nohea
Trad climber
Aiea,Hi
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May 31, 2007 - 09:08pm PT
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Wasn't that Keith Hernandez and the magic lugey? That was a Mets game I believe. Remember I am from the Empire State, and the upstaters like the Yankees.
Aloha,
wil
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happiegrrrl
Trad climber
New York, NY
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May 31, 2007 - 09:10pm PT
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oh...yeah, the Mets. Kieth Hernandez.
I'm not much of one when it comes to details in sports. I stand corrected. Thanks.
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Gene
climber
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May 31, 2007 - 09:45pm PT
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Pat's been showing us the way for decades.
JDF watch out. The new Sheriff is in town.
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Mighty Hiker
Social climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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Perhaps the idea is that the thread is, or will become, history. Ashes to ashes...
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Anastasia
Trad climber
California
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Dust to dust...
Bump...
If we keep it going someone might tell the stories for him.
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Oli
Trad climber
Fruita, Colorado
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 1, 2007 - 03:30am PT
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Please don't think I "troll." I'm just learning what it is, for heaven's sake. I have a simple mind. I was sick today so couldn't get back on the computer until now, or I would have written earlier. I wasn't playing a game of trying anyone's patience.
Let me tell you about three little climbs that all suffered a similar fate.
I was in good shape in 1967. I easily sight-led Ahab and the first free ascent of Limbo Ledge. Royal and Rearick and I did Crack of Despair, and I led the crux. Chuck Pratt and I did a number of routes together. He had me lead the 5.10 offwidth at the top of Reed Pinnacle, Right Side, and he led the offwidth on the Left Side. With Larry Dalke, I also did the first 5.11 in the Valley, the Center Route on the Slack. Kamps, Chouinard, Robbins, and others had tried the Slack and failed. I'm not completely sure but think Pratt tried it too. He told me the Slack would be the first 5.11, if done. I can't imagine how he would know that, without having tried it. My good friend Higgins also had tried the Slack and, as he wrote me recently, "flopped off of it." Tom calls it "a mighty little treasure." Most people don't now realize, however, that there was a block 15 or 20 feet up, and to pass that crux section, you had to crush fingertips into the two parallel thin cracks on either side of the block. I managed to lead the route first try, in good style. Well above the crux, standing on the thin edge formed by the top of the block, I hammered in a one-inch angle and clipped the rope in, ready to do the 5.5 remaining section. As I clipped in and started to move, the block suddenly shifted under my foot, causing my foot to slip off. I dropped about an inch, since the piton was right there at my face. I quicky put my foot back and finished the easy remainder of the route. Pratt congratulated me and told me it was indeed the first 5.11. Later, though, as I learned, someone apparently vandalized the climb by prying out the block. Now one could employ a bomber handjam instead of those really difficult fingertip jams. As Higgins has said, "No one will know how hard that route was." Some speculated that someone was jealous a Coloradan had done the first 5.11. A month later, Tom led Serenity, the second 5.11, and that too was altered by subsequent aid climbers, hacking into the rock bong-tip holes where there were knifeblade cracks.
Pratt was collecting info for Roper's guide, and Roper wrote the Slack up as the first 5.11. Later, though, in Roper's book Camp 4, Steve states simply that the climb was downrated, as though to imply I had not rated it correctly. Some were now calling it 5.10d. John Long wrote me, though, not long ago and said he felt it was still 5.11 after the block broke out. John is one of those more generous souls. I couldn't say what it should be rated, but I know it was much easier. Sigh.
Pratt also told me about the Left Side of the Remnant, speculating that it might be "a climb for another generation." Those were his words, although it didn't prove quite that difficult. Curious about what he'd said, I went up and took a look at the relatively short but fierce crack. I led right up the initial difficult chimney and didn't take long to do the 5.11 undercling left and up. I reached a stance about two body lengths from the top, with only a 5.6 move remaining. Happy to have done the route, I thoughtlessly slammed in a nice one-inch angle. It was then I realized I had placed the piton in the one and only finger hold, a bomber finger lock, for that final little 5.6 lieback. I didn't want to bash the piton back out and so tried to fit a finger on each side of it, above and below, with the intent of making the lieback move, pulling straight to the right against the crack, and not using the piton. It was hard not to rest the edge of my finger against the piton a little, but I did the move as cleanly as possible. It didn't matter I had made this little mistake, as the move was very easy, really, and I knew if I wanted to I could have hammered out the piton and done the move. My partner, Larry Dalke, had lots of trouble on the difficult climbing but easily whacked out the piton and made that final easy step with the solid finger lock. I felt I'd done the route free, but in the interest of total honesty I told people the story of the piton and that easy final move. Royal and Loyd Price went up and worked pretty hard at the route, managed to do it, and claimed the first free ascent. Sigh.
Kevin speaks about a boulder problem in Camp 4. I was doing some pretty intense bouldering with Gill in Colorado and put up a number of nice new routes in Camp 4. My friend Barry Bates told me I was the best boulderer he'd seen, and that really touched my heart because of his generosity and warm spirit. I will never forget those days bouldering with Barry. Some of you will know the route Ament's Arete, a moderate classic up an overhanging arete, over toward the start of the Falls trail. To the right of Ament's Arete is a steep, almost vertical slab facing west on a little separate block. I managed to do a difficult face climb up the center of this west-facing slab. No one could repeat it. Breashears tried it later. Wunsch worked on it and even had some special shoes mail ordered to him. My girl friend at the time took a slew of photos of me, though not revealing the secret technique I had used. Bachar, my friend, showed up at my home in Eldorado a few years later and saw those slides, telling me he knew now that it was indeed done. Some had wondered, and he told me it was now impossible because the single tiny key edge for the left foot broke off. Ron Kauk, though, found a way to sprint fast toward the face and, leaping upward, make a wild slap for the top. He managed finally to succeed at that grab, and since then the route has been called... the Kauk Face! Sigh.
As a small aside, Bridwell's girlfriend at the time, Lois, a sweet girl, made me one of those famous Bridwell psychedelic shirts, all wild hallucinogenic colors, green, yellow, and everything. I loved that shirt. I have a photo of the first ascent of Ament's Arete, wearing that shirt after a huge spaghetti dinner. Dick Dorworth, who had just set a world record in downhill speed skiing, was there to spot me...
I'm not doing any sort of polished writing here, just rambling as I tend to do, but maybe something will be fun to read?
Pat
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Crimpergirl
Social climber
Hell on earth wondering what I did to deserve it
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Awesome - thanks for that. Hopefully there is a lot more. BTW, we are just joshing with you that you were teasing us. :)
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scuffy b
climber
The town that Nature forgot to hate
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Thanks for the background of the "Kauk Face."
It was shown to me several years ago without the seemingly
important detail that it hadn't been done in its current state.
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Anastasia
Trad climber
California
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PAT, "you" are not the troll... WE ARE! (Troll are the ones kidding around just to hear themselves talk. )
I LOVE your story!!! Keep posting whenever you feel well enough.
---------
I know "a little" about what you are going through.
During my chemo days for cancer, one of my funny memories is that I once fell asleep into my dinner plate. I woke up with it all on my face and didn't notice until I had to use the bathroom. When I caught myself in the mirror, I remember it being a significant point in my life where I had to decide between laughter or crying. (I really felt like crying.) It was a horrifying sight. I remember staring into that mirror like a deer in headlights, my feelings flooding all my senses until they just clicked it into the right gear. Now that I am looking back, I realize that this was when I made the choice between the sickness dominating me, or choosing to have my love of this life dominate my existence.
My roommate found me laughing so hard on the floor that she thought I was having a heart attack.
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Jello
Social climber
No Ut
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Good stories, Oli. That one where you were trying to not touch the pin on the easy lieback reminds me of a time long, long ago when I was climbing in Eldo with Breashears. You probably remember how in the mid-late 70's David could never find climbing shoes he liked. They always didn't fit right or something else was wrong with them. So for a long time he just climbed in some floppy old tennis shoes.
Well we decided to climb Guenese, which used to have that long runout above an upside-down fixed pin on the first pitch, leading up to the roof. David is leading the pitch in his tennies. He's completed the runout and moved up under the roof to where there's a fixed angle filling the only good hold. He's up there fiddling around, not clipping the pin for some reason and starting to sketch a little bit. I'm starting to get a little nervous as he's looking at a long fall onto the suspect pin. If the pin pulls, he'll deck out hard.
After a little while I find out what he's up to. Still not having clipped the pin, David looks down at me and in a voice dripping with apology says, "I'm sorry, Jeff, I blew it. My fingers touched the pin." What the hell? He's still looking at a possible groundfall and he's more concerned about letting me down because of a tiny, meaningless taint? "Breashears". I bellow up, "clip the damn piton!"
That boy was beyond pure, he was damn near angelic. Sometimes it seemed he was in a hurry to join the heavenly throng.
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Roger Breedlove
climber
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
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I know that we all go soft and weepy eyed as we get older, Jeff, but I heard that you yanked the rope and pulled Breashears off when he touched the pin.
Buzz
"Without style we are nothing"
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John Moosie
climber
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Hey Oli and Jello,
Thanks for the great stories. I love the history of adventure. Man this is great.
Oli, You are well respected here and any joshing is just done in fun. Besides, it did start to look like a brilliant troll when it took you awhile to post. Some of us take a certain perverse pleasure in the brilliance of some types of trolls, at least the ones not meant to be mean spirited. I think most here are well aware that you are a man of your word. But we do like to tease.
Thanks again. Moosie
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Anastasia
Trad climber
California
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Thank you Oli and Jello!
I love this thread!
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wiclimber
Trad climber
devil's lake, wi
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Oli,
Now please tell us a story about the Supremacy Crack. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!
AK
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Oli
Trad climber
Fruita, Colorado
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 1, 2007 - 03:28pm PT
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Jeff, those floppy tennis shoes were Tretorns. Both David and I started actually climbing in them for a time, because they had fantastic friction. I remember the day Breashears told me he had a gift for me, and when he arrived at my house he was carrying a new pair of Tretorns, the best kind. He had ordered them especially from the east, for me. I wore those things out, even though I tried not to. I found I could climb all the hard routes I was able to do in Eldorado in those shoes. And yes David was pure in his style on rock. I'll tell you a story sometime about the huge fall he took in Yosemite, and how I miraculously stopped him...
Kevin, thanks for that affirmation about the Ament Face. I was really proud of that one, and it seemed to disappear before my eyes. Most of the Californians were very nice and welcoming to me, all people of integrity. Jim Bridwell and I were instant friends and bouldered a lot. I loved Barry Bates, and we spent hours laughing and bouldering. Even more obscure characters, such as Klemens, seemed to like me. I suppose I was incredibly immature for my age and overly sensitive, and the like.
Sometimes I said something I had no idea would offend someone. I had been climbing with Peter Haan, having a great time with that phenomenon, having lovely conversations, delving his brilliant mind. His only fault that I could detect was a slight tendency to be very critical of people. In a way, he seemed to have the credibility and authority to be so, and some of his observations, painful though they were, made a lot of sense. One day, though, I said something off hand to Peter in the restaurant, something intended to give him a small instant's feedback that I was uncomfortable with the criticism. The truth is I didn't want to be on the receiving end of such, and each time he said something it hurt, almost as though I could imagine it directed at me, so I said something to him like, "...And Peter knows everything about everyone." It wasn't well thought out. I honestly can't recall the exact words, but I had no idea what effect my words had on him. I've been told I speak with power sometimes, but mostly I don't know when such times occur. And sometimes people misinterpret tone. But he was affected by what I said, took it hard or something, and he bolted out of the room. I thought he was going off to use the restroom. When I finally went lookng for him in Camp 4, Bridwell asked me, "What did you say to Peter?" I couldn't even recall, but it was the last thing on my mind to offend him. Bridwell informed me that Peter had left the Valley. I was shocked, and Peter never spoke to me again. It seemed ironic that so strong a person, and one so observant of the imperfections of others, should have so little capacity for a mindless remark directed toward him. I have always deeply regretted ever opening my stupid mouth, because I think we would have gone on and done some fun climbs together. Some are fragile in delicate, artistic ways, I suppose. I think I am that way too. So anyway, not every relationship went how it should have gone. I'm sure Peter has an entirely different take on what went down there, and to him I was probably just really out of line perhaps... I have never lost one iota of respect for that man and have never and will never say a bad word about him. It's like an eternal penance.
Some, such as Chris Jones, the Brit, viewed me as a sniveling little Colorado creep, and described me as much in his "history" of North American climbing. Anyway, Higgins, Kamps, Robbins, Beck, Pratt, Bachar... they were all my friends. I loved climbing with Pratt almost more than anyone I could think of, just to watch his technique, the way he could turn an off-width into a work of art.
One day, by mistake, I sold Chris Vandiver's guitar. That's a funny story, in retrospect. Chris had to leave the Valley for a couple days, and a fellow approached me and asked for Chris. The fellow told me Chris had wanted to sell him that guitar. Being incredibly naive and gullible, I took the 50 dollas and gave the guy Chris's guitar. Well, Chris didn't come back for a few days, and I was out of money at the moment so assumed he wouldn't mind if I started spending some of the 50 until more was mailed to me. Not a good move. When he got back to the Valley he came storming up to me, "Where's my guitar?!!" He hadn't wanted to sell it but had simply spoken to the guy about the possibility. Oops. And I had no money to give him. That, again, was not one of my better moments. I have always been a bit retarded socially, backward or something, and I did a lot better when I simply focused on the rock and climbed.
Anastasia, that face plant story is amazing. I relate to it all too well, believe me.
More soon.
Pat
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Anastasia
Trad climber
California
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I agree with you that many climbers have personalities similar to artist and writers. I am constantly amazed how many are mentally strong and extremely emotionally sensitive. I think these traits is what drives them to go beyond and seek themselves on other paths.
Plus, I notice another commonly shared trait among climbers is that many of us don't edit our words into palatable forms. We have this childish faith that what we intend to mean " expressed raw and from the gut " will not be misunderstood.
I have said the wrong thing many times. I usually have no clue what I said despite the effects leaving me with the distinct taste of foot in mouth syndrome. Sadly I have lost a valuable friendship over it.
Yet one thing I learned once I recognized this trait in myself is; I learned to not be so deeply effected when I find myself on the receiver end. I am sure many climbers over the years also have come to this conclusion, regretting their words and building up more tolerance for others.
-------
Now how to confront my lost friend and ask if they can forgive and forget? How to mend what is broken... I am still working on that one. Still stumped over how to put words back into my mouth. I am still working on my ego; the need for approval, respect while still being humble.
My conclusion is that we are all flawed, wishing to be better, fumbling around and hoping no one will notice. We all have no clue what we are doing, but damn... Our thoughtless manners, impulses and feelings give us a wild ride.
AF
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WBraun
climber
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Pat said: "I thought he was going off to use the restaurant."
Hahahaha
Is the the story that became the climb "Peter Left" which is really the right side of Peter Pan?
Pat I remember that incident.
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Oli
Trad climber
Fruita, Colorado
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 1, 2007 - 10:51pm PT
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I meant to write restroom, obviously. I'll edit it.
I do not speak in any way disrespectfully of Peter. I was the person in the wrong, I'm pretty well convinced.
I'll tell you about two other boulder problems, though, and poke a little fun at my friends Bachar, Kauk, and Long. Do you remember the Foote boulder? It's at the east end of Camp 4, low down the slope to the south, and just southwest of the Kor boulder. The good climbs are on the east face of the Foote boulder. The right side is the classic Foote problem, of course. Bridwell actually pointed out to me a possible route on the left side, about as close to the left edge of the face as the Foote problem is close to the right edge. I was using RDs at that time, pretty stiff edging shoes Gill and Goldstone had used a fair bit. I climbed that route and found it to be pretty delicate face climbing. Actually that is one thin face. I was strong enough then to claw with a couple fingers at times to help me make some of the difficult edging steps. There is a really tiny edge for the right foot, like the width of a nickle or something. I can't recall how many years later, but maybe five or six, or possibly seven, I was strolling around the area and peeked from behind a tree as John and Ron tried the slab. They were having trouble getting started on the initial brutally thin right-foot edging move. They tried and kept staring at the hold and pondering, etc. I finally came over. They were young then and didn't know me too well yet and got a little defensive, telling me the ground had gotten several inches lower from erosion, that the move was really bad now, that it might not even be possible. I started looking at it, to remember what I had done, squinting my eyes down at the holds, and they walked away. I think they were correct about the ground, but I smeared up with my left foot a couple inches off the ground, with the flat part of my foot on the fresh white, newly exposed granite above the pine needles, to make up the difference, and set my foot on the bad edge, and to my surprise stepped right up. I could still do it. Don't worry, I had no illusions about being a better climber than they or anyone, really. But now and then I could call up that bouldering spirit.
One day during that same mid to later 1970s period I met John Long, and he said, "Let's go bouldering, Ament." I wasn't in the mood but came along to watch him. He was amazing, throwing his body upward in wild two-arm lunges and things. I watched him climb Ament's Arete by doing a huge double dyno to the top, from the lower ledge. Incredible dynamic power. I wondered, though, if he could do it the slow, static way. He was too formidable a man for me to dare ask. We strolled down to Columbia Boulder, and he showed me a route on the west overhang. I was very curious that he would show me this route, because here was a route I had done in my heyday in the late 1960s. Bates and others had credited me with that first ascent. Long climbed the route very solidly, as I recall, and I decided to break the news that I had actually done the first ascent of the route. He seemed to puff up with rage, and he said, "There was a big boulder down here that you stood on to start." So, in other words, one had to start from the ground, half a foot lower than that slab of granite that now was moved or gone. I was too frightened to say anything more (I'd only been in karate a few years at that time), but later I got to thinking how I had gone down under in fact and done virtually a one-arm pull from a pretty small hold to get up onto the route, with a direct start. So I had done it, in fact, but no one would know it. I was never given credit for it in any of the write-ups about bouldering. It didn't matter, really, because the new guns were coming on now. My day was done.
Pat
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bachar
Trad climber
Mammoth Lakes, CA
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Warbler's right - we always called it the Ament Face...
and I have seen Kauk do it quite statically - very impressive move in EB's !!
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WBraun
climber
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Killer history Pat and Bachar
Just killer .....
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Raydog
Trad climber
Boulder Colorado
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great stuff
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Oli
Trad climber
Fruita, Colorado
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 2, 2007 - 12:42am PT
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Well that's strange, because you, John, had mentioned to me once that no one had done it, only Ron by running at it. Are you sure you're remembering right? If so, that would be... before the hold broke off... right? In fact I was surprised people were having trouble with it, but I had not heard of anyone doing it. Then the edge broke off... Are we thinking of the same boulder? I mean the face to the right of the Price Eliminate and right of Ament's Arete. By the way, I didn't name anything after myself. Those names came later by others.
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Oli
Trad climber
Fruita, Colorado
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 2, 2007 - 02:28am PT
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John, did anyone do my route just behind the Foote boulder to the northwest? It was a small boulder kind of below the southeast corner of Wine boulder, and the route was on the southeast side of the small boulder, an tough overhang above a fire pit... I'd forgotten about that one until now, really hard. The funny part is that I met a girl at Degnan's, and we started going with each other, you know, hanging out. She was smitten and followed me around the boulders. One day I was up on that route, couldn't make the top-out move and said, come here and let me stand on your head. She walked over, and I put my climbing shoe flat on top of her head and stood there to keep from having to jump off. It must have hurt, because suddenly, to my surprise, she said, "Honey!" I'd never been called honey before, and it was too wierd for me. That was the instant I knew I wouldn't stay with her long. I was a bit superficial at that moment in time. I couldn't handle anyone calling me honey. Isn't that silly? But it's true. She quit her job, hitched with me to Salt Lake, where we caught a freight train to Denver. What an adventure for a simple, homespun girl, but as soon as we got to Boulder another girl I knew who worked in Yosemite was passing through and looked me up, with whom I determined I needed to be with immediately. The first girl was crushed and returned to Yosemite and got her job back. It was ugly. I was a bit shameless and stupid at that moment, to say the least. But when I returned again to the Valley, can you imagine who rang my food up at the register? The name of the boulder: Don't Call Me Honey.
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Oli
Trad climber
Fruita, Colorado
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 2, 2007 - 02:29am PT
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Werner, do you laugh whenever I make a typo? I'm only human.
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chappy
Social climber
ventura
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Nice stories Pat. I have seen Ron do the Ament Face static as well. I would think John would agree that Kauk has absolutely amazingly strong feet and exacting footwork. We all talk about strong climbers but generally refer to upper body strength and forget about power from the waist down. Kauk has the strongest feet I have ever seen. He could stand on the smallest nothing of a foothold like it was a good sized edge. The legend of the Kauk calves. Those old time Valley face problems required this skill. A stiff shoe helped. I had RDs as well but Ron didn't require them. I remember going to the problem a lot with Steve Wunsch. He would always try it. I believe he always mentioned it as something you did. He climbed for a while in Chouinards (a very stiff edging shoe on the market for a while in the early seventies)and he hoped that the boots stiffness would help on that little nothing of an edge down low that is so much a part of that problem. Can't remember if he ever did it. Don't think so but I could be wrong.
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Oli
Trad climber
Fruita, Colorado
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 2, 2007 - 05:57pm PT
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Wow, thanks for that report. I had no idea Ron actually did it (the facing climbing way). I wish I could have stayed in the Valley for a long period and had those rocks and beauties infuse my entire spirit. One couldn't help but get a lot better by simply living there and climbing all the time. Always home seemed to call me, though, after about two weeks of being there, and then I would feel the call of Yosmite soon after I got back home. So it was back and forth, freight trains, hitchhiking, old Volkswagons that made it on a prayer. I once fell off a freight train in Sacramento and wrecked by elbow, but that helped me fail the Viet Nam draft. I once went out by freights just to see my friend Mort Hempel in Berkeley. He was acting very wierd then, having struggles with the after effects of too much LSD, but I liked him a lot. What a beautiful voice. I had no idea he would phone me one day in the early 1980s, a lost soul. I got him settled in Boulder. He's still there...
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Mighty Hiker
Social climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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These are some great stories. Thank you! More of it should be recorded - maybe some oral history for the Yosemite Climbing Museum?
I need to have a look at the new Valley bouldering guide, and learn some more. Though history is a fluid thing, even in the hands of historians.
I've bouldered a little around Camp 4, and knew there was some history to bouldering there, but no more than that. It's interesting to learn that individual boulders, and even problems, had names even in the 1960s. I knew a few did, but had the impression that naming every boulder and problem and variation was a modern thing.
Digressing a bit, route names are interesting. They seem too often to be a surrogate claim post - if you name something, it gives you legitimacy or ownership or something.
Some routes and boulder problems at Squamish that were climbed in the 1960s or 1970s, but not recorded, have later been written up as "new" ascents. Sometimes the protagonists, or guidebook writers, know otherwise, but allow it anyway.
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Oli
Trad climber
Fruita, Colorado
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 2, 2007 - 06:26pm PT
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My bouldering companions and I always named routes, even if only to call them by the name of the person who did the first ascent. Sometimes for lack of energy or imagination, it would be "Higgins' Face," or "Bridwell's mantel," or "Robbins eliminate," or "Ament's Face," or "Kor Boulder," or "Foote Problem," or "Pratt's Mantel." Now that I think about it, few of the bouldering routes in Camp 4, in my day, the 1960s, had very imaginative names. I think about ten mantels were all named "Pratt's mantel." But we knew them, where they were, and in my best gymnastics shape I did them all (Pratt didn't train, sigh)... Pratt, drunk and in army boots at night, once climbed a blank area of Columbia Boulder, starting up to the right of Steck Overhang (on the west face) and angling across the big slab and upward on a horrid lichen face with a huge drop to the ground. I repeated that route in daylight, shaking in my boots (so the speak) all the way (although if you shook even slightly you'd probably slip off).
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