Someone somewhere said for good reason that organizing climbers is like herding cats. Like cats, all climbers have their own token motivations, moves, and cat calls. And as true tokens are often guarded gently in the safety of a pocket or a purse, no “climber” takes entirely kindly to the thought of surrendering such treasured possessions. No—accompaniments’ suggestions of potential new tokens never seem in good faith. Camp here, with you, tonight? But, it’s too (close / far / hot / crowded / wild / potpourri-scented).

With cats and climbers in mind, I found myself so very pleased to become a part of twenty or so friends who celebrated drc’s return to Yosemite this past week.

In order to fully appreciate the spectacle that this would become, you must understand that drc had spent the summer prior in Yosemite…and many summers prior to that. That is to say, he had turned friends of friends of friends into friends or at least friends of friends. And what but the closest friends can resist the allure of some old flame? Drc was stolen away a year ago by his fiancée (in fact, me) who decided to attend law school in North Carolina. So, when he returned to Yosemite this last week, he received a warm welcome.

So friends of friends of friends became…friends around the fire and the old “friends” were replaced by aliens and knights in castles. I digress.

Drc will never fly United again. This time, he flew Delta. And was nine hours late. He arrived at SFO around 2:45am to a text message from me with the address where I was staying in San Mateo.

The next morning, after the night during which drc struggled to barter with a cab driver from probably-Marrakesh and finally arrived to a lovely bed in a beautifully-decorated guest room and myself, we left for the Park. A chair- and toothpaste-buying stop in Oakland and we arrived in the Tuolumne Meadows Store lot to read a message on the public board entitled “Victorfest 2010.” The note explained that there were NO CAMPSITES in the Park. This did not concern us, for we had found two sites across from each other in Porcupine Flat on our way in. (At this point, it is important to say about what follows, “Any similarity to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.” And, “That was a long time ago…and it never happened.”)

We hadn’t recognized any cars parked on Route 120, so we left the store continuing further down the road feeling bad in search of a familiar face. We didn’t venture too far before the Lembert Picnic Area where we ran into a friend who had spent a considerable amount of time with us last summer, sharing belays and jolly ranchers, and his partner from San Diego. Mutual friends and their friends had coaxed our wayward friend and his partner to Tuolumne from San Diego for the weekend for “Victorfest 2010.” We were glad to see them, because we knew with this friend in tow, we would have the latter…and all friends of friends for that matter, happy staying at our stroke-of-luck (SOL) campsites.


On our way out of Lembert to put a note on our mutual friends’ car, I saw a couple other familiar cars in the gear shop lot. Drc, not having been in the Meadows for a year, I thought, might enjoy saying hi. So, we caught a Jersey climber on the way to the East Side and a not-Jersey climber and another. (It is so nice to roll into a place and know you’ll see familiar faces.)

We stopped at Low Profile Dome on the way to SOL campsites and did “Golfer’s Route,” the first time I had since 2007 and drc’s first time; our friend and his partner, our new friend, did “Darth Vader’s Revenge” (I think). We were so happy to get a pitch (two per Supertopo) in and continued back to Porcupine Flat; when we arrived we saw a couple other pairs whom we had called upon and for whom we had provided happy camping karma. The evening continued on with a fire and hugs and friends of friends of friends…if you count them right.

The next day, Saturday, after drc’s sister missed a flight, drc’s family was on their way from LA. A group of “climbers” went to Dozier Dome and drc warmed up his TM token moves on some new routes as stellar as “Ripple” put up by those friends whom we saw in gas station parking lots some hours before; friends who had been found through familiar license places, spaces, and faces.





In the afternoon, we received word that the fam had gotten lost in the desert. Not Fear and Loathing style, but in a Las Vegas sort of way nonetheless. That evening, when they finally rolled up with trunks full of feast, there were five pairs of familiar climbers with a sixth along for the ride, all standing around a blazing fire. Another friend from Tacoland here joined the fire as well and I was happy to meet him again, for I had met him only twice before: once in the air and a second time on the ground. The second time, a day before, I apologized for my cat-like tendencies the first time when I was playing a “climber” some time before.

When they arrived, drc’s family unpacked and served a lovely meal of pasta and meat sauce with salad on the side before joining the fire, relieved to rest after a long day of battling highways and “flying saucers” flying from a carefully-packed bag set under a cord in the bed of the truck.

That night, there was quite a bit of “shutting the f* up.”


On Sunday, some left and others of the crew went to Puppy Dome and did some cracks named after animals and things animals “Do” (like “Fly”). Drc and I avoided climbs with imperatives in their names and wandered back to the Meadows after saying tear-filled goodbyes to others of the crew and stopping to pet some pack animals (one of my favorite activities on Route 120). While waiting out hail under the unfurled branches of a coniferous evergreen across from parking for the John Muir and PC Trails, we recognized another license plate and a couple o’ familiar face. They stopped for us and we crawled into the refuge of our friend’s and friend of friends’ van and listened to tales of their recent exploits on the East Side. And caught up. (Have I mentioned how nice it is to wander into a place, to see a familiar face?)



When Victor’s family returned from their hike to Budd Lake (highly recommended), the hail and rain had stopped and friends had moved on toward the Bay for work on Monday. We were fortunate to be able to stay a couple more days. We stopped at Tenaya Lake for some feet-dipping and headed back to the store for some relationship tripping where we saw an unsatisfactory selection of wine and contributors to guidebooks. Victor’s parents headed to Lee Vining for better wine and drc, his sister, and I went back to camp where a warm fire was already waiting. Thanks to our friends!

It got dark and mothers weren’t feeling well and songs were sung around the fire, inducing fiancées to feel stressed and clean up. Neighbors joined the party.


The next day, Monday, the family hiked a walk with no elevation gain and I nursed my wounds from being “pushy” around the campfire the night before. Friends headed home toward San Diego as drc and I embarked on an adventure known not in Supertopo as something like “Right Open Book.” (I don’t have any pictures of this because I no longer have a hard case for my camera.) After three pitches of what is officially 4th class, drc decided a pitch of 5.7 OW without pro was not on the menu (as it really was not), and we very professionally and swiftly bailed left…and left again, to avoid the top of “Left Open Book,” which looked as if it hadn’t been climbed in thirty years. I was very impressed with our rope management?

That night, after chatting with friends around the store and the campfire, we got some sleep. The next morning, drc made people and family very happy when he agreed to hike up to North Dome. We had a beautiful day.




After saying goodbye to some of the last friends, drc and I went out to join the fam (also friends in case of any confusion) for dinner. Seeing Mono Lake, as depleted as she is, was like seeing an old friend as well. Saying goodbye to family after fish tacos and good beer was bitter, but manageable with a little bit of Terrapin Station (“Some climb to get to Terrapin”) and setting the Valley as a destination.



On Wednesday, we did East Buttress of Middle Cathedral. It took us 11.5 hours car to car and felt HARD! Drc led every pitch (thank you, drc!).


This is what following a Grade IV looks like after a year of shenanigans:


I enjoyed watching the shadows on El Cap change throughout the day:





And a real descent:



We finished the night off with dinner at the Ahwahnee…mostly because I like the little novelty ‘biners they put on the stems of El Capitinis. We picked up a couple family friends who had been hiking in Yosemite for a week for whom we were happy to provide a ride and set off for what would be a motel in Oakdale. We arrived back in the Bay the next morning, Thursday, the day of my flight back to North Carolina.

After breakfast with family in the East Bay at a lovely place with lots of barbies in a case in El Cerrito, we headed toward the airport and a farewell evening was had, thanks to the friends who participated in most of the above pranks.

I was happy that my friend from school was at RDU to greet me after my red eye flight from SFO. So bummed to leave California was I, after such a great summer and being reunited with so many great, talented friends. Being whisked immediately away to the Outer Banks for different friends’ wedding reception was a great recompense.


Can’t wait till drc gets home and I can show him more of what North Carolina has to offer.


In the meantime, thanks, Friends, Friends of Friends, and Friends of Friends of Friends! Lovely to visit and climb with you all.