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Maysho
climber
Truckee, CA
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Topic Author's Original Post - Aug 19, 2006 - 12:16am PT
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With care and best wishes for solo master Bachar on our minds, how about postin up your most memorable or close call, or life changing solo moment. a rad climb, a rain soaked descent, or your first day of first grade after your mom dropped you off.
I spent the day in the hot sun at donner teaching climbing to teens. So I need to let my brain cool down then I will share mine in the morning.
Peter
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bvb
Social climber
flagstaff arizona
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Aug 19, 2006 - 12:27am PT
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i gotta million of 'em. of the 300 or 400 free solo's i prolly done (and by free-solo i mean fall = die, not just a fractured femur or something) 99% were blissfull, live-enriching experiences, some even life changing; 1% were idiotic ventures i was lucky to live through. i still solo all the time, but only routes i have totally wired, 6 grades below my limit, and i never on-sight solo anymore at any grade. too old for that sh#t. plus there's my kids.....
lemme cogitate on my most stupid free-solo for awhile then i'll post up; it'll make a good story.
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JuanDeFuca
Big Wall climber
Stoney Point
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Aug 19, 2006 - 12:45am PT
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Stich, get some f*#king help man!
JDF
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golsen
Social climber
kennewick, wa
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Aug 19, 2006 - 12:59am PT
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Here you go Peter, I look forward to reading about many foolish adventures, although mine is not really scary.
Hopefully, free soloing is focus and control. Focus on that area of rock within your grasp, control of your mind and body to perform the right move. Never getting out of balance, never letting fear rise to the surface. The fear may be there, down deep inside but it is best for it to stay there. If it comes up, then I think you crossed the line. Only the climber will know if that happens, unless of course he ends up being a statistic.
I will never forget about 30 years ago when I started climbing. There was a climb called Bushwhack Crack, a 5.8 that kicked my ass. A local hardman, Rick Wyatt was often seen climbing it sans rope and continuing for a couple more pitches to the top of the Gate Buttress in LCC. His ascents seemed so solid that it became the image in my head of what climbing could and should be. That was my first exposure to soloing and at that time it seemed like something I wanted to do once I got good enough.
In the early 80’s I was soloing a fair amount, typically not harder than 5.9. I must say that Mr. Bachar influenced me a lot. I have never met the guy, and at that time I had never been to Yosemite, but those images of soloing hard climbs inspired me. That seemed like the ultimate. For me then it was not about what one climbed but how they climbed it. There was a canyon of good granite near my house with relatively short walls (Ferguson Cyn). It was neglected. I must say that when I was in my early 20’s (like I was in back then) there was something flowing in my blood that is not here now. Where did it go? What was it? (Is it as simple as testosterone?) At any rate, I went up to the neglected area as I had been eyeing a short arête problem. It had not been climbed before and was perhaps more like a highball than a real climb. I soloed it and it was very anticlimactic. I then soloed a couple other things that were not very good but all new routes. On the main wall was a line of small knobs to the right of the only existing climb. I did not consciously tell myself that I was going to solo it. I started to boulder up. Soon the moves were just flowing, the crux had a sequence that I climbed through without thought. The holds appeared and I pulled through and my body seemed to position itself perfectly. I was committed now and I just kept climbing. It was only the move ahead of me that seemed to enter my area of focus. Before I knew it, I was high on the wall at a seam that I could use to escape right. I realized that the smart thing to do was to exit but this climb should also finish proudly. So I did another few moves over a slight bulge on marginal holds, it seemed like the thing to do.
When I topped out I sat down in the warm sun and shook for about 10 minutes. During the climb I had not even thought about coming off except near the top. I think all of that pent up adrenalin had its way with me. At that time in my climbing career my best on-site was about 11a/b. To me the climb seemed like 5.9. It was later bolted by a party that had no knowledge of my ascent. It is rated 10c. Today, it is easy for me to realize the folly and risks I took soloing a new route that was so close to my limit. But today is also a time where more and more folks learn to climb in gyms, a sterile environment that does not breed the kind of adventure that was so evident prior to sport climbing.
I am not ripping on gyms or sport, simply stating that during Bachar’s heyday, the game we played was different, and the stakes were higher. It was simply rock climbing with no trad- or sport- prefix. And Mr. Bachar led the way for many, even those of us who grew up climbing in backwater areas.
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Mimi
Trad climber
Seattle
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Aug 19, 2006 - 01:16am PT
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John is definitely da man!
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smitty
Trad climber
Santa Cruz, Ca
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Aug 19, 2006 - 02:07am PT
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Gotta post this again:
my very first solo was in yosemite as I was waiting for friends to show up. I made the mistake of showing up alone two days before anyone I knew would be there, and suffered the agony of needing to climb. I had looked over the regular route up sunnyside bench before, and figured i'd check it out. It was mostly 4th class for the first couple hundred feet, so I reasoned that I'd climb until I wasn't comfortable and come down.
So I ditched my sandles at the base of the climb and headed up until I came to the first expose actual fifth class pitch. One option was the wider 5.5 crack or the knobby exposed 5.4. I chose the 5.5 for whatever reason and headed up this short pitch. Midway through my mind went wild on me, and the more I thought about what was below me, the harder the climb felt. In a short period of time I turned into the best human impersonation of a piton, cramming every part of my into the crack for security until i basically couldn't move. I broke the skin on my elbow and was now leaving blood behind and my feet started getting that slimy sweaty feeling in my shoes. Finally I just thought, this is rediculous, this is how people die climbing. I knew i was beyond able to climb this, so i just let go, took our my left hand and foot and used the face and eventually got to the little tree at the end of that pitch. After catching my breath, i looked up to see the last pitch COVERED in red ants. The ENTIRE pitch I climbed like a ballerina dancer, occcations swatting ants off my legs.
The adventure wasn't over. At the top i ran through the gammut of emotions, and basically felt wonderful. I walked barefoot along the climbers trail until I hit a shady section where luckily my eyes caught sight of the rattle snake that my foot was about to land on, coiled and looking right at me. I'm not sure how, maybe I turned a backflip, but i ended up ten feet back faster than i can remember. I sat and threw rocks at trying to get it to get off the trail, which it decided it wasn't going to do, so I had to do some f-ed up bushwacking to find that talus gully. After that, i was home-free and figured I'd just wait out any other climbing until someone got there...
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dirtineye
Trad climber
the south
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Aug 19, 2006 - 08:45am PT
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I know Bachar loves to talk about free soloing, cause he told me so.
I really don't like to talk about it, cause I can't see the purpose, although, John explained his reasons for discussing FS pretty well, and I can't fault him in any way.
I get really tired of people who have not done any FS or people who only FS wired routes way below their level pontificating on the subject. (Not talking about you Bob, I'm talking about the LEBs of FS) I get equally tired of people saying, "I'd never FS anything, that's nuts.".
Too many people I have heard discussing FS use it as a way to prove something, or as a coup to wave in front of others to impress them. UGH.
OK, so with all that as the grounding, the alure of FS for me is the onsight adventure FS, done when the damned rock just pulls you up, as if you have no choice in the matter. This can happen in trail shoes, at a moment's notice, with no preparation or forethought at all.
I hate that, but I used to do it a lot.
My best scary story is only scary cause I was stubborn and stupid. I could have reversed at any time, but I didn't.
Anyway, there I was, alone, high enough to die, not quite lost, on a bit of rock that had never been touched, facing one last stupid move, that if it had been clean, or if I had had climbing shoes, or if I'd had a rope, would have been trivial. So I'm standing on this ledge, thinking, hmmm, A fall here is really bad, I won't get over it. But I wanted to go up. So with my hands I picked and rubbed and got the highstep a little cleaner, and did a little finger digging on the one small edge that was my potential handhold, looked down again, guessed at how many times I would bounce if I came off, put my foot up over my waist and began to highstep.
And then I started to slip.
And I thought," This is not good.", and carefully lowered back to the ledge.
At times like these I like to have a little think and re-evaluate the situation. The move is not hard. If I had climbing shoes it woudl be dead simple. At least the trail shoes have vibram soles, and I've climbed stuff like this in em before. The fall is really bad. I can do this move if I clean a little more. So I spend a while scrubbing with my fingers and trying to get the dampness and the dirt off the handhold and the loose lichen off the foothold.
And on the next try, it works and I'm up to easy stuff and out, and I wander around til I find my pals who had taken the normal way up, and I sit down and talk to one of em who knows all about this "Oh Sh!t moment" sort of thing and then it catches up with me and I feel pretty damned stupid and I swear to myself I'll quit doing this crap.
But I know I'll do it again, as soon as some chunk of rock makes me.
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Maysho
climber
Truckee, CA
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Topic Author's Reply - Aug 19, 2006 - 10:10am PT
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Great stories folks!
1980 I was 18, livin in El Portal, and soloing was the thing. Bachar was our buddy and set the bar high. Most of us stayed in the solid jammin 5.10 range, Gripper, Anathema, Reeds Direct, Cookie right then down Cookie left, and just admired what John had done, (Nabisco, New D, etc.) Once, 5 of us did Reeds (Werner, Cashner, JB, Kauk) with all on the second pitch at the same time. One week I did Five and Dime, then went down to the Bay to work a few days. I found myself up on Mt. Diablo at Rock City with a friend. I had never climbed there before, but my confidence was high from my recent circuits in the Valley. So I start up the classic diagonal crack, 5.9+ of 5.10-, onsight, but the jams look good and I figure I can downclimb if needed, and hey this is just a practice crag, and I am a young Valley hardboy and all. So, there is a bulge, the jams become sandy little pockets, I pull through, but have the definite feeling that I am not wanting to reverse those moves. I am standing on a little sloper, and see that the crack fades away and the crux is pure face, Now I make it a point to try to make my solos solo. I do not like to pass parties or do it with others around. So, around the corner comes a troup of boy scouts, "Oh my god, that guy does not have a rope" "Thats really stupid!", chimes the scoutmaster, then lets them all sit down and watch this bad example. I pucker up, really wanting to be somewhere else. Fear, the taste of stale adrenaline, legs shaking a bit. I force myself to calm. "You do not fall on 5.10 face when you have a rope and pro!" I tell myself a few times. I get it under control, barely, and make the moves. On top, shaking, feeling like puking, I duck into the woods to find a stick to scrape my underwear, and vow to stick to granite cracks I know so well.
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'Pass the Pitons' Pete
Big Wall climber
like Oakville, Ontario, Canada, eh?
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Aug 19, 2006 - 11:34am PT
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Dang! Your stories have my hands so sweaty I'm reaching for my chalkbag! [oh yeah, I don't own one]
I'm afraid I quit free soloing long before I started doing anything hard. As for big wall soloing, ah, that's a different discipline, and yeah, got plenty of scary stories there, even with a rope!
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WBraun
climber
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Aug 19, 2006 - 12:12pm PT
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One of the scariest free solo stories I've ever heard was from Bachar when he was in Frankenjura, Germany. He related how he was watching some guy there free soloing some super hard route that was very sequential at the crux which was not reversable if you blew the squence. The fall was a sure cinderbox quality.
John said the guy climbed up to the the crux superbly only to blow the sequence at the crux. The guy can now not only not reverse his moves nor could he continue on up. A sure fall to the deck.
In Frankenjura there are some of those big rings for protection and the guy dynos for the thing and lives to see another day.
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marty(r)
climber
beneath the valley of ultravegans
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Aug 19, 2006 - 02:41pm PT
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Peter,
Great topic and timing. I've posted this here before, but my closest call with taking "The Big Ride" was an onsight solo of the North Arete of Mt. Goode. I got off-route and into a nasty chimney where the sidewalls were exfoliating and the chockstone I was trying to jam up and over was filled with moss. It was the only time that day--or in any solo--where the terrible loop of song lyrics that was plaguing me stopped. I think I had Elvis Costello in my head at the time. "We talk about the future cuz we put the past away..." was the one that went over and over and over that summer. Anyhow, I VERY carefully reversed my moves only to end up on a dingy face where I pulled off several saucer size flakes. Again, the chicken eye was closed TIGHT! I finally found the right crack--a perfect hands horizontal line that led left around a blind corner--and back onto the real route. The rest of the morning I was in that glow of having gotten away with something. When Largo said he went "scouting for turtles, making garlands out of wildflowers, relishing the skyscape...all those things a person does on borrowed time" he meant it. The rest of the climb was pure joy, pure movement. No thought of difficulty, grade, or the mess of sweat, sunscreen and chalk that I'd have made on the talus below had I blown it. That day has become my energy index of what the mountains should give you.
I'll just put in a plug here for Twight's "Kiss or Kill" and Long's anthology "High Lonesome." Rad stuff there.
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flamer
Trad climber
denver
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Aug 19, 2006 - 02:54pm PT
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This must have been winter of 1998..or was it 97?? Anyway...
i had the day off work and was desperate to climb SOMETHING...but alsa no artners to be had. No problem I'll just do my all time favorite solo..the east face of the 3rd flatiron. When I got to boulder the 3rd was out of the question due to snow and ice on the face, however the first was looking much better...slightly different angle to the sun perhaps? On the way up the face it's self everything was as to be expected for an early winter solo...some water herte and there but NBD really. When I gaied the ridge to the summit however things changed. The last 3-4 pitch follow the ridgeline, alot of which has a different aspect than the face...and there was alot of snow and ice. But now being most of the way up the climb and not wanting to attempt the down climb I pressed on...it wasn't too bad but defiantly heads up.
As I pulled over the last little "bulge" in the ridge I saw what awaited me on the summit 'block"...the side that you climb on is tilted to the north and shady....and had 4 foot ise cycicle's and lot's of snow...it's 5.5 but with the S&I additions it was going to be tough.
I sat down in the saddle for awhile and debated my options.
I choose to scramble down a gully on the east face to reach a large tree with Rap slings. From there i rapped as far as my 50M-9MM rope would take me...then i had a look around. I knew there were a numbe rof roof systems in the area and didn't want to down climb above one only to be "roofed out".
i found what appeared to be the path of least resisitance..wedged myself into alittle chimney and pulled the rope.
I started down climbing what ended up being a very wet slab...dot to dry dot style for 200+ft....it was pretty damn exciting but I managed to keep my head together and pulled it off.
I was quite happy to be on the ground and had a good could'a, should'a, won't do it again thinking session.
When I think about it now I feel like it was a very defining day for me....but I wouldn't really reccommend it!
josh
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Chicken Skinner
Trad climber
Yosemite
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Aug 19, 2006 - 08:00pm PT
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I have never been much of a soloer though I have done some. When Bosque and I were doing a route on Liberty Cap in the late winter I carried a load by myself up the Mist Trail after a particulary cold evening. I was too lazy to go up the John Muir variation and figured how bad could it be. So I walked around the gate in my tennis shoes and continued on. It got icier and icier as I went and suddenly realized I could not retreat without leaving my haulbag which would have been the smart thing to do. I kept going to the point where retreat was impossible and found myself on my hands and knees, clawing with my finger nails for the last half of the stairs with heavy mist from the falls pelting me. Had to have been 3-4 inches of solid ice covering the steps. The steps were not level due to the mist pouring down them and then freezing up during the evening. Definately, the most scared I have been on Class 1. What an idiot I was. Needless to say I descended down the Muir trail, after dropping the load off at the base of Liberty Cap. No wonder NPS closes that trail during the winter.
Ken
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Ultrabiker
Ice climber
Eastside
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Aug 19, 2006 - 08:24pm PT
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I was all alone "Aid Soloing", up on P2 of "Days of No Future" and then, damn, another party showed up at the base of the route with FIVE "Pigs". Luckily for me, they thought that it was P-Son. Off they went to P-Son and I remained in my peaceful little world.
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Kristoffer
Big Wall climber
Blue Jay, California
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Aug 19, 2006 - 09:49pm PT
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i almost died soloing Mt Wilson via the Aeolian wall route in red rocks march of this year... it was straight forward and fairly easy aid and some good chimneys /offwidths, but i got hit by a surprise storm at night that dropped about 3-4 inches of snow on the deck and god knows exactly how much up on the top/side of mt wilson but to make a long storie short when i woke up i was completely covered in ice and snow that had avalanched off of the summit into the chimney system i was biving in... damn was i ever wet and cold! I ended spending about 4 hours tring to kick the ice and snow out of the entrance to the chimney i was in and breaking the ice off of my ropes, ascenders and other various gear... by the time i was done i had kicked so much and so hard the the toe of my right shoe had completely busted out and my toes were hanging out! I finaly was able to bailed out of that icy bivi leaving everything behind besides my ascenders, ropes and harness. i tried to pull my sleeping bag out of the ice but it was so solidly frozen in that i just ripped the section i was pulling on right off!
I spent about half of an hour trying to tied my two ropes together but my hands were so numb that I had a vary hard time doing anything with them but finaly I succeeded and then i built a shitty anchor and rapped my ass to the end of my ropes where i built another supper scary anchor in soaking wet sand stone, and as most of you monkeys know sand stone looses 2/3 of its strength when wet and it wasn’t just wet, there was a damn torrent of water running down and over my anchor! scared shitless and well into a hypothermic state i tested those mank peaces a few times and then said f*#k it, if i don’t commit to this anchor im going to freeze to death up here and if the anchor blows im going to plunge to my death, what the hell...
when i finally committed 100 % of my weight to that anchor and pull my rope out of the other anchor so i could tie it to this anchor and get the f*#k off of this miserable wall!!
The entire time I was rapelling down that rope all I could imagen was those few nuts and small cams blowing out of that soaked sand stone and sendinf me for gravitys non-stop ride to the sharp rocks below.. comforting at the least.
so now here i am, chilling at the base of mt Wilson with absolutely no bivi gear or any other equipment besides the few cans of food i had stashed behind some shrubs and im wet and cold as heck, so i built a raging fire on BLM land and made an illegal camp..but I didn’t care, sh#t if I had gotten arrested for it I would have atleast had some where worm o sleep...
the worst part of this ordeal was the fact that i had no sleeping bag and i was stranded out in the middle of the desert! Survival mode kicked in and i went around gathering brush to make a make-shit pad to sleep on so he frigid soil wouldn’t drain me of the little heat that was left in my body. but sh#t, i still froze my ass of that night and the next 5 nights to come until red rocksrondevuze rolled around and then i met up with the monkies who had a sleeping bag i could barrow, ample bear, smoke, plenty of motivation and another rope i could use to re-solo the top half of the route so i could get my wall rack and sleeping bag back….
now that i look back on this event, i realize that im lucky to still be around, but f*#k it! i would do again in a heart beat, becase what dosent kill you sure makes you stronger!
Even know I had numb feet and hands for the next month and I lost a total of 6 toe nails from frost bight it was a damn good time high up on the stone…
the monkeys always send!
Zephyr.
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ha-ha
climber
location
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Aug 19, 2006 - 10:27pm PT
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golsen's stories about Bushwack Crack got me thinking about the time I soloed the whole route. I'd soloed the first pitch many times, either downclimbing it or climbing over and finishing up on Schoolroom.
One day I went up to solo it and there was this other guy who ran up from the parking lot in nothing but some really short running shorts, a pair of Fires and some tube socks, the requisite late 70's summer uniform. He had seen me soloing and asked if I'd done all pitches of Bushwack. I hadn't even done it roped up but he assured me it was No Big Deal™ and he lead the way.
We floated up the first pitch and he continued up the flared 5.7 liebacking. I started up, enjoyably enough and found myself following the crack as it arced right until it petered out into a little one inch foot ledge. I proptly stood up on it. It would've been pretty scary reversing that move.
Well, now we had a short slab above my little foot ledge. The other guy had stopped at another bigger ledge above the slab pointing out the sole crystal I had to stand on to get to another slab move from which I could grab his little ledge and we could walk off.
Now, I'm not the best slab climber. I feel right at home in a handcrack but slabs are a whole nother channel. I took a few deep breaths and got ready to step up on the crystal.
I placed my toe on the crystal and moved my other foot onto a smear and palmed my hands up onto nothing. Yikes. I moved back down to the foot ledge. Take a deeeeep breath.
"You can do it, it's not that bad," he said.
Foot back on the crystal, stand up. Uhh, smear the right. Okay now, stick to the rock Mr. Right Foot. Take foot off crystal and smear it like a dirty politician.
"Yer okay..."
Standing up...okay were still stickin'...must be about two hundred and fifty feet or so to the deck...pretty grippy rock...palm down...push up and...grab...the...ledge.
Got it.
Just another day in Little.
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john hansen
climber
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Aug 20, 2006 - 12:12am PT
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It wasn't supposed to be a solo. It was a supposed to be a well protected first acsent, but there just wern't no pro to be found, I got a couple stoppers in at 15 and 25 feet , just enough to lure me in .So I find myself eighty feet up with the last 8 feet rounding off to the top. It was just like Ha Ha's story just above ,, sketchy face over a final bulge.
I fiddled around for half an hour trying to get something in
to stop me from decking..a tiny wedge,, a 1 inch hex stuck about half way into a pocket, and another 3/4 hex stuck between two small horns like your thumb and finger in an 'OK 'sign . I dont think any of them would have even held body wieght let alone a fall. Three moves to the top ,with no jugs or bomber hold to shoot for the last bit, almost smearing,, Yikes.
I made it, and brought up the brothers.
Went back there a few years ago and Rocco Spina and friends had bolted all the walls around there into submmision,, including 5 or 6 on my route, Even with the bolts its rated the dreaded 5.9 + in Carville's guide. I still get shivers when I think about those last few moves...
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Pierre
Big Wall climber
Sweden
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Aug 20, 2006 - 07:22am PT
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I really thougt that I had the East buttress of middle wired, until I decided to freesolo it...
I used two quickdraws at the boltladder though, one in each hand and just clipped them bolts, smooth as ever, but it was after that I ran into some serious problems! I just couldn't do that little roof thing... I tried and tried, but felt very insecure, then I just went for it with legs spinning and hands clawing. I think I sat down at the next little belay totally dazed for an hour or so, finishing the route was no pleasure - way to tense...
My absolute favourite solo is Nutcracker, probably done it atleast 50 times - anyone know the best time up Nutcracker? My personal best is 10 minutes via the 5.9 straight in finger/hand crack. I've had some close calls on that one aswell...
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mooser
Trad climber
seattle
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Aug 20, 2006 - 09:15am PT
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My scariest free solo experiences were in Czech Republic--with a rope, and a belay.
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Ultrabiker
Ice climber
Eastside
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Aug 20, 2006 - 09:57am PT
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Late May 94' saw me waiting for my partner below Keeler to do the Harding. I had two days to blow. Looked up at the suedo couloir between Day and Third Needle. Hmmmm, looks doable. Started out the following morning at 0300 with headlamp, Ice tools and pons on. Figured that if I got to the top rockband above the neve/ice, I wouldn't get nailed by the "Bombs" that let loose as the morning Sun hit the wall's. Uh Uh! Got stuck two thirds of the way up the neve below the VW Bug size chockstone that damned the couloir, and here came the Sun. Reached the main "Giant" chockstone just as the UV rays of neve melting radiance peeped over the Whites. I heard rockfall starting around and above me."I am so toast" I said to myself. No rope. Just my tools and pons. I looked for dry-tooling potential on the chockstone. Saw a small crack that would take my right tool and a series of spitter's on the main wall to my left. Put my right tool into the chockstone and my sphincter instantly went prrrrrrgh when the stone creaked and moved! "I'm not toast, I am soooo f*cking dead!" I murmured. Took a deep breath and said "F*ck it!". Got to do what I gotta do regardless. Can't go down. So, I weighted the stone and pulled. Got up far enough to get a purchase on the left wall. The stone moved and began to slip down and towards me. Ugggggggh! High stepped my left front points onto the left wall and then up and over the stone. "Holy Shet! I am still alive!" The stone stayed in place and I mantled it. Pheeeeew! "Thanks Norman Clyde for watching over me dude!". Looked down and saw the rockfall bombing all around down below. Gathered my wits and finished the gully with a wet spot in my britches. Just below the outlet of the couloir I stopped and took the pic below. Just wasn't my day to die I guess!
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