During the “great Sierra Nevada road trip of 199? John and I, recently released from various field projects and other forms of employment bondage, traveled westward to the land of granite and sunshine. For several weeks we would climb a number of Sierra classics, camp out under starry skies, and indulge in California’s unique love affair with fine wine and craft beer. The rain would not come, the sun would not refuse to shine, and the rock would not suck. Life was good. On this particular day we rose early to beat the crowds for we were headed to the ever popular standard route on Fairview Dome. Roping up and launching off on the first pitch in semi-lightness we had beaten everyone else to the draw and were feeling groovy. That first pitch always snookers me because it starts off feeling so easy on the low angle stuff that it defies the imagination that it could actually be 5.9, then you get to that balancy little crux move. As I brought John up to the first belay stance I watched the great unwashed masses queuing up behind us and was thankful we hadn’t bothered with a morning cup of joe. We swung leads so that each of us could enjoy the full pleasures of shivering in the shade on belays (did I mention it was early?) while the other suffered through great moves on impeccable granite. The pro didn’t suck either.


After several weeks of climbing we were well dialed in and moving quite efficiently. As such, we were half way up the climb before we ever felt the warming rays of the sun. Also stereotypically, John was properly dressed for the occasion while I had selected wardrobe options suitable for either flirting with hypothermia or enhancing my opportunities for skin cancer (a bullet I have mercifully dodged). However, once moving across stone it was all good – in fact very, very good. I am hard-pressed to think of any climb I have ever done that is more self-indulgently entertaining than the standard route on Fairview Dome.


By the time we got to the upper pitches the sun was out and we were basking in its warmth. By now we were way ahead of the other parties and it felt like we had that big rock all to ourselves. After many pitches of just stellar crack climbing and stemming, we got to the face climbing pitches. Gentle reader, do not be dismayed by the sudden paucity of cracks, for the face climbing here is just as wonderful as the crack climbing is below.


The last two pitches were back into cracks, but at a lower angle as we approached the upper dome. We were just cruising by now and ready for a water break on the summit. We topped out around noon, well ahead of any other parties on Fairview Dome that day. We had purposely traveled light and had only a liter of water apiece, which was quickly gone. After basking in the summit sun and soaking in the magnificent views for a half hour, our growing thirst drove us back down.


Days in Tuolumne hardly get any better than this day had been. All of our days in Tuolumne had been wonderful, but this day had really been spectacular. During this road trip we had climbed Matterhorn Peak, Clyde Minaret, 3rd pillar of Mt Dana, and innumerable domes in Tuolumne. The following day we would venture out to Cathedral Peak, a perennial favorite for both of us. It would be fun and we would enjoy it, but we would be well and truly done. The miles of smiles had finally led us to a point of irreversible homeward-boundness.