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BooDawg
Social climber
Paradise Island
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I truly appreciate the stories that you have shared with us, Tom. I think they are entirely appropriate and understand that you are speaking your truth from the deepest parts of your heart. Please don't take personally what others might think or say about you. It's about them, not about you. I honor your honesty and forthrightness and courage in sharing yourself with us.
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survival
Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
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Great post Tom.
Bring it on.
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TomCochrane
Trad climber
Boulder Creek CA
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Frank came to me one day with the wild idea of trying to create the longest and hardest free climb in the world. We had both already done various routes on Glacier Point Apron, including Coonyard Direct and Goodrich Pinnacle. Frank had figured out that if we linked all the hardest ways to get up the Apron it would make up 26 pitches, all ranging from 5.8 to 5.11. I love climbing on the Apron and readily agreed to his scheme. We started up early in the morning. Out of respect for Royal’s campaign against bolts, we carried no bolt kit.
A couple of pitches up was one of the crux pitches on Frank’s plan. Half way up this pitch was a bolt protecting a crux move. Frank was on the lead and struggling with it, becoming increasingly frustrated and vocal. As usual this escalated until he was screaming epithets at himself and I was worried he’d get himself hurt. However my experience with Frank was that by this point he usually would have psyched himself up to make the move. He had skinned knees and palms by this point and was in a purple fury from falling repeatedly. Finally he just hung on the rope and dejectedly told me that we couldn’t do the climb, so we should go down now. I lowered him to the belay ledge and told him that now it was my turn. This did nothing to improve his mood, and he made some caustic comments about my talents. I politely asked if he would mind too much letting me try it. He couldn’t very well turn me down. I figured I had the edge with a relatively new pair of Kronhoffers that were purchased two sizes too small and then tuned to my feet by walking in water and bouldering until they were dry (followed by taking time to let your feet recover). This was Br’er Rabbit in the briar patch country for me.
Yes, the pitch was very hard, but I somehow managed to crimp up it, being fresh and having been watching Frank work it. Frank settled down and the next dozen pitches past Coonyard Direct and above went relatively smoothly as we were swinging leads. The day was perfect for it.
The climbing was getting harder as the afternoon sun heated up and the rock seemed all the more polished white. Frank led us up into a long slick, polished, completely unprotected dihedral high on the wall. As I neared the top of the long difficult pitch I became increasingly concerned by how far he had run it out. Then as I approached him I noticed that Frank did not even have me on belay and was coiling the rope idly in his fingers. Frank had brought me up into a slick corner with no stance and no anchors. He showed me his one piton with just the tip in a hole, and demonstrated moving it back and forth by hand. It was worthless for a belay or holding a fall. Then Frank suggested that I should be the one to make the choice between hanging there until one of us fell, or jumping together to our deaths. I told him he was crazy. He asked if I thought I could down-climb. The pitch was clearly at the limit of our abilities, as was the place where we were stemming across the slick corner. Down-climbing was unthinkable, protected or not. Frank had gone up as far as he could until the dihedral began overhanging. Then with no way to retreat, he had called “on belay” and brought me up to join him! I clung in a stemming position with my feet on either side of the corner and looked around. In desperation I convinced Frank to hang in there while I made a long step out to the right onto a small spur on the outside corner. Then I got a hand on the corner above my foot and swung out completely unprotected into one of the most precarious positions I’ve ever been, with a 2000’drop below my trembling heel. I somehow wrenched myself around the corner and then led a long and difficult unprotected pitch on the blank polished rock face that should have had half a dozen bolts for protection. Frank was convinced at each move that I would fall and pull us off together, and he was very nearly right. I was convinced Frank was crazy and wanted to die and take me with him. So when I finally reached a belay ledge at the top of the pitch, I placed an anchor without making a sound, until the rope was solidly secured. I was truly afraid that if he heard me hammering a piton he might really go ahead and jump before it was secured, although in retrospect I don’t think that was the case. Then I yelled “off belay” out of habit. Of course there was no belay! I doubled up the protection on the ledge and brought Frank up to me, giving him tension at several points. He arrived white and trembling. Obviously I couldn’t let him lead after that, and led the rest of the route as if I was soloing and expecting to be pulled off at any moment.
After several pitches of reasonable difficulty, we reached the easier rock slabs leading up to the summit and coiled up our rope in relief. Frank was carrying our pack and I had the coiled rope and hardware rack as we scrambled un-roped on slabs angled like the roof of a house near the top of the wall. I was rather distracted thinking about all that had occurred and stepped on a small mossy patch moistened by a seeping crack. I still have a very clear memory of my foot on that little patch of moss. Suddenly Frank heard a heavy scrapping sound and turned to watch in horror as my foot slipped and I slid out of sight down the slabs with our coiled rope and heavy sling of pitons dangling around my shoulders. Sliding rapidly down that slab on my heels and my butt put me back into the mindset of downhill ski racing. I could see that I would hit the ledge at the edge of the steeper drop-off and be ejected out into space like a ski jumper. In downhill racing you pre-jump ahead of the bump so that you can land on the back slope of the bump and avoid air time and maintain control. I realized my only chance was to do a pre- jump up off the slab and land straight down onto that ledge. I managed to do that, leaping wildly above the slab and landing with a great crash of heels and hardware right on the edge of the abyss.
A few minutes later as he clung there alone near the top in the midst of his grief and terror, Frank watched my ghost re-emerge from the abyss, returning to haunt him. It took me a long time to convince Frank that I was not in fact a ghost and had in fact managed to arrest my fall. I still have a hard time believing that we survived that day, but it did happen. My notes for the day tell me the climb took us eight hours.
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Rick A
climber
Boulder, Colorado
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Tom,
What a gripping story, complete with heart-stopping Kroenhoffer footwork on a new GPA route. A situation so desperate that the great Sacherer proposes jumping off so as not to prolong the agony! That is one for the books.
Thanks for posting.
Rick
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survival
Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
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Holy smeg slide Batman!
That makes my near death flake surfing on the slabs of Half Dome sound lightweight!
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scuffy b
climber
Where only the cracks are dry
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Amazing tales, Tom.
Have you ever jumped out of a second-story window to greet a friend?
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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Topic Author's Reply - Mar 9, 2010 - 02:11pm PT
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Tom - one of the wonderful aspects of the internet is the ability to put together narratives that wouldn't have been possible in the age of publishing, where a small fraction of the experiences of a community could be crafted into tightly written stories, together with acceptable images, printed, bound and sold to a rather small fraction of the interested public. The cost of all this, and the tiny market, certainly limited what stories were told.
When I started this thread my intention was to learn more about an important contributor to Yosemite climbing. The amount written about Frank Sacherer was unbelievably small, almost limited to Chris Jones' History of Climbing in North America. I had heard some stories, Jim Bridwell for one, and I had a sense that Frank's story existed "out there" but hadn't been told, perhaps because he didn't himself, and because of this diverse set of partners, each with some limited set of experiences... and no real way to accumulate them, until something like the SuperTopo Forum came along.
My goal was to flesh out the European climbing that lead up to the fatal accident on the Grande Jorasses. While many more stories from Frank's american partners were posted on this thread, it wasn't until Jan joined and I was able to goad her memory of the physicists that they climbed with that I had the one important lead that lead to contacting the many partners that climbed with Frank in Europe at that time.
Every time I think the thread has essentially exhausted its potential, some one new steps forward with stories... and the body of "primary source" information is expanded, and we learn even more.
It is strange that more note of Frank's passing wasn't made in the US climbing press, or in the climbing press at all, considering what his contribution was. But perhaps it took some time to see how climbing was going to turn out, and then look back and derive in some manner how it came to be that way, and who the influences were, for Frank to become of interest to the climbing community. But then there was the problem of putting all those small stories into some compelling body of work.
I've thought about taking this information and writing it up in a more traditional format, a more orthodox narrative. But the power of this narrative is something I could never have conceived to write, but it has genuine power and authenticity and immediacy which stands by itself. Perhaps a more talented write than myself could do it justice. If my only contribution to that is to have started this tread that is sufficient reward to me. It all keeps getting better and better.
Thank all of you for your contributions. I know that many of you have had to relive painful memories to post, your generosity is much appreciated.
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Jan
Mountain climber
Okinawa, Japan
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Well now I know why Frank always hated climbing on the Apron and refused to do it with me!
It also seems from the latest tale that the two of you have a good claim on being the fathers of free soloing!
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Tarbuster
climber
right here, right now
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Tom Cochran wrote, in the previous tell, El Cap Tree Direct:
No one in Camp 4 was impressed with my new Jumars
I realized that the claw of this hammer was about right to hook onto the tiny ledge behind the hole left by the broken crystals.
He felt it was unfair for me to layback difficult jam cracks. We were supposed to be pushing the development of jam crack climbing so we could free the big walls.
Terrific details and a great read.
That last quote is instructive and inspiring.
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Clu
Social climber
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BooDawg...I read with great hilarity your new found understanding why Frank would not climb the Apron with you. Not personal at all, lol. Tom, your stories keep this forum alive...please understand the nature of the internet sometimes is hurtful, but it is not personal. Not taking things personally is my biggest hurdle. Thanks all.
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Yikes, bolt-free FA up the height of the Apron.
And cleverly left out of the guidebook, so people wouldn't be tempted to experience what you did.
I wonder how many bolts it has now?
What's Coonyard Direct?
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TomCochrane
Trad climber
Boulder Creek CA
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Yes, Frank and I thoroughly outclassed our limits on our direct ascent of the Apron. However some of my other experiences tell me that if either Kamps or Higgins had been with us that day, it would have just been another nice safe cruise. And yes, I did a lot of free soloing, including the North Face of the Grand Teton, now considered a V 5.9. At the time Royal called it the best accomplishment by an American climber. Royal and I also pushed free soloing to 5.9 on the Chouinard-Herbert on Sentinal and various other places. After Royal's Class 2 no-hands descent of the Half Dome cables route, I repeated it Class 1 no-hands barefoot. (Please don't someone take that as a challenge, it's pretty stupid!) However I would never willingly try something like what happened that day on the Apron with Frank. In fact the day I broke off my climbing partnership with Frank was the day he tried to pull me into free soloing on the Inverted Staircase on Fairview. There is something sacred about free solo that comes from joy and self confidence; not from answering a dare or trying to prove yourself to others. That is not a worthy rational for taking the risk. I respect some of the things that Peter Croft has to say about it and would like to meet him some day.
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TomCochrane
Trad climber
Boulder Creek CA
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Clint, your squiggly red line to Coonyard zigzags off to the right. Coonyard direct starts at the top of Monday Morning Slab and goes directly up and a bit left, avoiding the zig zags to the right. It's about one notch harder than the regular route. I'm actually surprised that people wouldn't already know about that. Btw very nice pictures!
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TomCochrane
Trad climber
Boulder Creek CA
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Now you have me grasping for wisps of memories from discussions at the table that Royal and I shared in the boulders above Camp 4. This is not reliable, but the names that come to mind for Coonyard Direct are Mort Hemple and Jeff Foote in 1962. However I am not at all sure about that.
However I am familiar with the other lines you mention, and Coonyard Direct is a bit different, but not all that different from the regular Coonyard route. You folks probably know that area like the back of your hand by now. I would have to go back there and explore a bit.
You may be able to help me with another bit of mystery about that day with Sacherer. The pitch that caused him so much trouble and multiple falls was about half way up the middle of Monday Morning Slab. I think Frank called it the Harry Daly Route; but that doesn't make sense from what I read in the guidebooks. I went back there last summer and couldn't match up my memory to the rocks.
I also have been looking for a detailed picture of the upper portion of the wall to try and pick out exactly where we went, particularly the boltless dihedral that terrified us. I have clear mental pictures that I haven't matched up to a picture on my computer. I think we didn't go near the Oasis.
And I would like to go back and explore those summit slabs and try to construct a scientific visualization on the forces and moments of exactly how I managed to arrest my fall up there.
I think the technology has reached a point where we could do a laser scan of the rock faces to produce a highly detailed solid geometry model as a framework for everyone to attach data points like these stories. That would help this site live up to its name, a GIS for rock climbers.
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Here are some Apron photos at different levels of detail. Click on each to enlarge.
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TomCochrane
Trad climber
Boulder Creek CA
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Mar 10, 2010 - 02:07am PT
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I just got an email from Patrick Oliver Ament asking me to correct the embarrassing little story about me in his biography of Royal. Pat was there, but there was some confusion created around the events. This story does not involve Sacherer directly, but it does directly stem from the story of the first use of Jumars in Yosemite, on the overhanging aid pitches of the El Cap Tree Direct route. So I’ll put the story here unless someone wants to suggest a more appropriate thread.
So here’s how it really happened:
Royal, Pratt, Frost, and Chouinard climbed the Sentinel West Face route and left fixed ropes with a plan to return with filmmaker Roger Brown. The next day was a rest day for the filming team. The ropes started at the Tree Ledge approach at the bottom of the route; and were fixed two thirds of the way up the wall to a sloping set of ledges at the base of a 5.9 squeeze chimney that was the last difficult pitch on the route. The top third of the wall had no ropes.
I wanted to take advantage of those fixed ropes to demonstrate Jumar rope climbing. That was my only motivation for going up there; aside from thinking it would be fun. My intention was to Jumar up and then Jumar down. I wanted to demonstrate the value of these devices to a Camp 4 full of skeptics. There was considerable resistance to my constant suggestions of technical innovations as well as to my being the only one in Yosemite doing solo climbs up to that point.
My initial demonstration of Jumars on El Cap Tree Direct had nearly ended in disaster when the hemp foot slings broke. However I remained convinced of the value of these devices for wall climbing. I was completely alone in that opinion at this point. I had replaced the hemp foot loops with one inch nylon sling material, retaining the rigging configuration of the original product.
Tom Frost was quite worried that I wanted to free solo the top third of the route through the 5.9 squeeze chimney. Actually the idea appealed to me once he suggested it. So Frost made me promise not to climb above the ropes. To reassure him I wore my big Terray mountain boots that were great on snow and ice, but worthless for rock climbing. I don’t think he was otherwise about to let me go.
I walked up the Tree Ledge approach with just my Jumars and no other equipment. Then I climbed over a thousand feet of rope in about an hour. I amazed myself how fast it went; although no one today would find it unusual since everyone has adopted the use of Jumars. But up to that point we only had prusik loops for rope climbing.
However as I was going up one of the upper ropes I noticed it was badly frayed, and wondered why they had fixed such an old rope. When I reached the upper ends of the last two ropes, they were not just frayed, they were mostly chewed through by rats, and I was lucky they held my weight! I realized those top two ropes were completely unsafe to climb or descend. There was also not enough of the upper rope left to rerig the anchor. I hate to imagine the scenario of a cameraman with heavy equipment hanging around on those ropes for hours filming the climbers! I am convinced my going up there saved someone’s life, not to mention an expensive Ariflex 16 camera.
However now I had to do something about my own situation. The ledge was no place for an unsecured bivy. So I carefully climbed up in my big boots and made it to the base of the squeeze chimney. The chimney required squirming up the bulging outside edge in a precarious and exposed position and I wasn’t about to do that, although I played with it. I also excavated the chockstones back inside the chimney and tried to squeeze through that way. I had all day, but I couldn’t find a way to squeeze through. So that’s where I spent the night. There was a comfortable sandy bottom to the chimney and the weather was hot. The wildlife kept me entertained and awake. I was wedged in safely, but the sandy bottom was gradually trickling away down the wall.
So the next day the big guys hiked to the top, and Tom Frost lowered a rope for me to finish the climb on belay. Frost understood the situation, but Royal was livid and wrote some sarcastic remarks in the summit log. Then Royal took off racing full tilt down the boulder field of the descent route. Not to be outdone, I raced right along side him and our feet hit the tourist trail at the same moment. Luckily Liz was right there to hear about it from Royal. I don’t think he and I ever talked about it after that until recently when we could finally laugh about it.
I’ve seen published several innovative versions of this story, none of them mentioning my introduction of Jumars. However after that everyone heading for a big wall wanted to borrow my Jumars until they could figure out how to buy a pair of their own. If my memory is correct, that first pair was borrowed for use on The Nose, The Salathe, and El Cap West Buttress. Yet to this day nobody rigs the slings properly. The original hemp slings were rigged correctly.
Sorry if this is embarrassing to anyone, as that is certainly not my intent. However this is how it really happened.
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TomCochrane
Trad climber
Boulder Creek CA
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Mar 10, 2010 - 02:15am PT
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Clint, those are fantastic pictures; thank you very much! Now I have to stare at them and try to figure out where we actually went!
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survival
Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
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Mar 10, 2010 - 12:54pm PT
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I'm still shaking my head about the Glacier Point story....
And the introduction of jumars? Cool as hell.
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