Food for Thought
The long list of first ascents to my credit over many years of climbing has reflected an incessant desire to explore; turning some of my wildest dreams into reality. Out of those countless dreams, one dream was exceptionally difficult to realize...or define, as nightmare or dream...
It was 1974. While pouring over numerous guidebooks, I found Steve Roper's, "Climber's Guide to the High Sierra." I read of countless possibilities for new adventures throughout the text, although rather vague, it was good food for my imagination. The "largest dome in the high Sierra" briefly catches my interest. Tehipite Dome. The first of two major routes that were listed was a technical route first climbed the dome's immense south face in 1963 by Fred Beckey, Herb Swedlund, Ken Weeks and John Ahern. A second, longer route, the first grade VI in the Sierra backcountry was also done in 1970 by Chuck Kroger, Curt Chadwick and Norm Weeden, VI 5.9 A4.
The routes on Tehipite Dome, situated far in the Sierra backcountry stand in mute testimony to the greatness of these men's achievements. There are only a few backcountry climbs in the Sierra of similar length or grade. These routes seldom, if ever, get repeated. Besides the remote nature of the venue, the reason for few visitors is not because of the lack of quality of the climbing, but truly for the lack of boldness that's required to take on such an adventure. Roper's inviting description dissuades me as I read on. Who wants to deal with "rattlesnakes, brush and debilitating heat?" Sounds fun to me! Ha! Maybe I'll do this when I have nothing else better to do...
Don't Bite Off More than You Can Chew...
I find myself totally overwhelmed as I gaze up at our surroundings after crossing Crown Creek. I stand near the Western entrance to Tehipite Valley. John Vargas, a climbing buddy of many adventures and I had just made a long twenty mile trudge to this remote and beautiful place. Beat-up by our heavy loads and the long walk, John and I find one part of Roper's description to be true...that the heat here is debilitating, even in the month of October (1991). I can't begin to fathom the scope of what we had originally planned to accomplish here; Tehipite Dome was way, way bigger than I had ever imagined. In fact, I have come to realize that Tehipite Dome isn't much of a dome at all. Tehipite Dome is the most prominent land feature of this valley and is rivaled by nothing else. In Yosemite Valley, El Capitan has some Half Dome to rival its grandeur. Yes, this immense stone stands alone commanding the entrance to this wild place. Tehipite Dome is every bit of El Capitan and it is more. I fear this place and this rock for more reasons that I can totally explain.
My decision is not to venture out on a route of this magnitude without enough water bottles, gear and supplies to insure our survival. Besides, after residing in this place for a few days, Tehipite firecely looming above, any excuse would do in order for us to return home. We have scouted for every viable route to climb on Tehipite. It amazes me that such an immense stone is strangely void of many obvious weaknesses in order to piece together a climbing route. Nonetheless, I believe I have sighted a fairly continuous crack system that may go; thin and steep. Since we resigned ourselves from climbing, John and I took advantage of becoming familiar with this beautiful valley. Exploring our surroundings, we visited waterfalls, petrographs and swam in a few spectacular crystal clear emerald green pools in the Kings River. We finally decided to make the long, miserable retreat back to the car. I am disappointed, but also satisfied to know what we are possibly up against.
Even if I Have to Crawl on My Hands and Knees...
The last four years I have kept a safe distance from Tehipite Dome. However, Tehipite Valley was never far enough away to cease intimidating me in my thoughts and dreams. In the course of gathering any tidbit of information about the area, I conversed with a few who had ventured out to Tehipite Valley. Their tales gave me the same strange feelings that I had when I visited there last. On two unrelated climbing trips, one on Tehipite Dome and also nearby in the Tehipite Valley, I hear tales of their travels and of the bizarre deaths of their partners.
By October, I convinced Ron Felton to make a one week journey to the beautiful, but forsaken valley of Tehipite. Ron and I picked-up as climbing partners where John and I had left off. John had moved out of state. When Ron and I climbed together we shared the same enthusiasm and dreams; important ingredients required for climbing new routes. It is actually as important as being able to swing leads, which we could easily do.
We discovered that the previous hard winter, and in particular, a torrential rainfall in January had left us with twenty miles of downed trees and debris to negotiating through. A great portion of our journey was spent crawling on our hands and knees, detouring around or climbing over debris, all with huge packs on. Determined, we pressed on. On occasion, we noticed fresh mountain lion and bear tracks along the trail. The cat tracks kept us looking over our shoulders; thinking of recent attacks by mountain lions on humans. Even though we must appear as giants when we have on our packs, we stay close together.
It required a full extra day to reach our destination. While negotiating the miles of switchbacked trail down to the valley floor, I view that the valley is strikingly different than I remembered it. The floods of last January have scoured the valley floor, leaving endless debris of talus and trees strewn about a huge flood plain. Then, some unusual motion in a huge pine tree alerts us to a rare show. A cinnamon colored black bear investigating a beehive high in the tree is startled by our presence. After a few false starts of retreating down the tree, he bolted down the steep slope at full gait. Upon entering the floor of Tehipite Valley it seemed as if we were constantly being surveyed by the wildlife. The deer are curious, but keep their distance. A huge hawk startled us as it took flight from a short dead snag in the open valley right before us.
Ron And I are totally exhausted from the extra energy wasted just getting to the valley. We have decided that our situation is not right not to forge ahead. The limited amount time we had planned to complete this project was eclipsed by the time taken to get here and now a pn increased return time. The approach, the thought of a longer time hiking back through debris after the climb and of course, the intimidating Tehipite Dome has us with our tails between our legs. Again, I find the attempt on this project far from being started. The brave knights that I saw at the trailhead now have chinks in their armor and are retreating back homeward. Whatever the reasons for this defeat, these occurrences take their toll on the soul. We need some help.
The "Lennon and McCartney of the Sierra"
By June, I thought that I had a new team mustered along with a new plan. I asked an old friend Richard Leversee to join Ron and I to create an exceptionally strong team to climb Tehipite. I reminded Richard that we were the "Lennon and McCartney of the Sierra." Together, Richard and I had climbed the first ascents of nearly all of the most coveted and longest technical big wall routes in the Sierra backcountry. We had changed the number of the few existing routes of this length and grade to be more than a handful. Leversee had come up with a counter-intuitive approach by suggesting to climb the top section of the dome first, then rappel into the base of the rock to climb the lower wall. This was an attempt to avoid encounters with rattlesnakes. Richard really hates snakes. Due to last minute work commitments, I miss the ascent of the upper dome of Tehipite. Richard Leversee and Ron Felton establish a classic 1,200 foot route on the upper dome of Tehipite called, "Too Hip", IV 5.9. However, the remainder of the new plan never does get put into motion.
Ungentlemenly Competition
In September the following year, Richard Leversee was on the phone to inform me that he and another partner(s) will be going to Tehipite Dome at the end of the month. He gives me a less than subtle hint that he would be attempting to climb our projected line if nothing else looked better. There was not even an invitation to me to join them. It is tough for me to believe the conversation had ever happened after all that Richard and I had climbed together. I may never know the true motivations for this rift between Richard and I. I did say, "Richard first and I second." You see, I never had a problem with Richard until now.
I had sensed some negative vibes from Richard after climbing Angel Wings together, and I suppose, after backing out on this Tehipite project last year put the nail in the coffin. However, this is not the first time that Leversee has tried to go for a route he knew I had researched. I recall a day at the Needles as I was just topping out on a pitch on a new route, "Romantic Warrior" only to have Richard show up with a crew to climb the first ascent of the route. To his surprise, the first ascent was already in progress.
On Tehipite, hell, I know the route that I had chosen would be the best line...So I told him, "Wow, you know, I had planned on going in two weeks before you."
Now, I had not quite commited to going out to Tehipite again, but... All I have to do is to get off of work, and assemble a climbing team. Furious from speaking with Richard, I called up Ron Felton informing him of the situation. He's in. We neeeded to recruit a third person to assist in the project. A good friend of Ron's, Guy Zielski is able to adjust his work situation and help us with our task. Ron and I would have to share leading the route and Guy, who had limited climbing experience, would graciously help with the moving of freight. Ron and I decided that we spend whatever time is required to complete this project. Yeah, give it a couple of weeks! This is not the strongest team I had envisioned, but I'm not about to roll over and give up this dream!
"There's No Way Back from There to Here," (Steely Dan)
The trailhead near Wishon Reservoir is deserted, as it is this time of year. The walk in is even lonelier in this way. The wilderness ranger station, the last outpost out in Crown Valley is closed up for the season. We spent a day and a half on the approach hike. Guy's knee was about shot after the first day of load schlepping. Ron and I took a good deal of Guy's load and gave him some major painkillers to (really) ease his grief. After reaching the Tehipite Valley we had some welcome, cooling rain for the next two and a half days. We camped at a small site next to Crown Creek. This creek is a raging torrent in the spring since all of the streams from miles out flow into it. In the autumn, it still can be a challenge to cross, but this year it's reasonably low.
Ron caught some trout with some line and a lure on the end of a trekking pole. I didn't have much luck with this method. The only thing that I was surprisingly able to attract was a curious water snake. While standing on a tiny island "fishing" I was petrified as this dark colored snake slithered onto my foot. Luckily, the snake went away as quickly as it came. Needless to say, I lost interest in this activity after that incident. Using foil to cook the fish on a wood fire, we were eatin' pretty well. Ron had brought some rice mix that we combined with some home dried veggies. Voila', our one-pot stew, since we only had one pot. On the wall it will be a totally different cuisine. "Wall food." It is wise to take full advantage of these pleasures now.
During this period we moved our loads of gear up the enormous talus slope that leads up to the base of the wall. This area is about as stable as a house of cards with cards that weigh tons. We are able to periodically hide from the rain in talus caves on the approach. Once at the base of the wall we leave enough food, water and bivy gear for a one night's stay. Above, we scramble five hundred feet of third and fourth class terrain to the start of our intended route. The start is situated just left of the 1970 Kroger Route and at the left side of a prominent pyramid formation. We move most all of our gear up to this point. Afterwards, we descended our fixed ropes back down to choose a site to stay for the night near the base of the wall.
The best site to bivy just happened to be the only place that wasn't on a major slope, but was far from perfect. Just as Guy was to voice his concern of the quality of our choice, Ron and I, without a word spoken, launched into action. Our work was so intense and brief that Guy stood there astonished. As the dust cleared, a haven for three, and now reasonably flat, appeared complete with a natural fireplace below our feet. We settled into our bivy sacks watching the next wave of the storm coming in from the south. Guy's Walkman had a radio that worked well from this vantage point and the weather forecast sounded like clear skies were ahead.
In the morning we left the comfort of our new home and ascended back to the start of the climb. It is difficult to fathom the wall above. I do know that our chosen route after the first pitch is overhanging for a long distance, perhaps 800 feet! We've decided to send Ron to the left on an approach pitch up some wet and slimy shelves to a small tree ledge to keep us out of the path of potential rock fall. Since approach pitches are usually not too eventful, Ron took the second lead as well. On this lead, Ron nailed up and right on a thin ramp in order to cross a prominent arete which marked our line of ascent, there he could attain a crack system that headed up several hundred feet to a huge pillar we hoped to reach. Ron showed his tenacity by leading into the night hours using all twelve of our beak pitons in the process. The initial crack he had followed had now disappeared, leaving him with a wild hook traverse to a belay on a sloping ledge a full rope length out.
I cleaned the pitch by headlamp. The overhanging and leaning nature of the pitch made this difficult to clean. The process seemed to take forever in the dark. The rope and my headlamp were my only guides. Wielding my hammer was my only relief. Upon arriving at the belay, I found Ron hypothermic and barely responsive. I laid over him in order to warm him up and gave him a shell garment. He was soon able to join the action again. As in most night escapades, we soon got the haulbags stuck in the only tree out on the cliff. After an epic to free the bags we squeezed out a bivy back at the tree ledge. This is what we should have done in the first place.
The horrible thing about the tree ledge is that the ledge was temporary. Our ledge was in reality a four by three by two foot boulder wedged precariously on top of the trunk of a small oak tree. Our butts could at least rest on a small lip of rock that was actually part of the wall. Sitting closely side by side we resided for the night. We speculated that this venture was going to take some time given the distance and difficulty we were now faced with so we started rationing our supplies at that point. Our meals on the wall were "MREs." Meals Ready to Eat from military surplus stripped down to the essential meal stuffs. This included a "soft can" meal that we split three ways. Each meal was actually intended as a one soldier meal. The water we used for our stay on this ledge we filtered from a scum filled seepage next to Ron's spot. After cultivating a small "bowl" below the seepage, we were able to fill our bottles for the stay. Acquiring sleep was not easy here. I suppose that I did sleep some, since I remember actually waking up often enough to hear Guy and Ron cursing me for snoring.
.
Before dawn we moved our gear and ourselves to the sloping ledge above. That day, the weather had now changed radically. The previous days of cool weather were now gone. We were now in the midst of a heat wave. This could be a deadly combination; our limited water supply in a south facing stone environment. Over the belay I led a steep crack on aid to a difficult off-width/chimney. I yelled back occasionally to answer the cries of discomfort and impatience from below. The belay ledge below was a bowl shaped feature where Ron and Guy were the main microwave entree'! Little did they know or care that I was dealing with by own hell of slithering, stemming, getting runout and trying to be careful not to fall. Nearing the top of the pitch, in a partially loose wide section, a large typewriter shaped block of granite fell into my lap. Of course, it is never the right time for these types of crisis. Stay calm. Warn the guys. It sounded as if they could give a shit. Lock off the legs. Lift the block and put it...back. Stay! I gladly left that spot. I found a crack that only a small Alien would fit in for protection. I used it not only for myself, but also to protect Ron & Guy by keeping the rope from flossing the block out. After eliminating the obvious dangers I reached an easy ramp that lead to some mausoleum like ledges behind the huge pillar we had been aiming for.
An Omen
The best feature of the "mausoleum" is that it was in the shade. We were now inside Tehipite Dome. This bizarre shelter of stone was a welcome relief from the intense sun that had beat us down so badly. This break allowed us to gain back some morale. In the narrow causeway of our living quarters we lounged and slept. Ron even had a few photos of his wife Kelly pinned up on the walls by poking the corners of the photos in the cracks. While exploring our surroundings we noticed that a peregrine falcon has been frequenting the area. To be able to witness the activities of these masters of the air is truely magnificent. Its cries lift our spirit. I have been told that in Native American lore, when hawks appear it is a good omen to the traveler.
Another airborne visitor appeared that day. Peculiarly, a small airplane circled about. I suspected that it was Richard (later, I found that it was). We waved, but we were too hidden from view to be noticed.
The climbing to the top of the pillar proved extremely difficult, Ron mixed free and aid climbed above our haven. Then Ron traversed left to the main arete by nailing left underneath a long, impressive horizontal roof for nearly one hundred feet. Ron and I got quite a show when Guy and the haulbags swung out from the ledge behind the pillar. Guy didn't enjoy the show as much as we did though.
The Pillar. photo: e.c. joe
The Roof. photo: e.c. joe
Perspective. The Headwall. photo: Ron Felton & e.c. joe
As Guy zoomed away from me and the ledge he said, "What in the hell did you get me into, you ----- -----! When I get off of this thing, I'm going to kick your ass!"
My job cleaning seemed probably as challenging as the lead. Traveling horizontally, I risked popping out pieces of gear, taking simulated leader falls onto my ascenders.
On the next lead, I found spectacular climbing up steep thin cracks on the arete above, reminiscent of the headwall passage on the "Shield" of El Capitan I had climbed in 1980. Even though we have been diligent to start climbing before dawn, the short autumn days leave us pushing into the dark hours of night. Climbing nearly full 60 meter pitches involving difficult aid has been using up our daylight, as I had never imagined it would. I was only about halfway out on this lead when I heard that no one was able to stay awake to belay me. I managed to place a bolt and tie some pieces together in order to safely return to the belay. The section I had been climbing was suspect of being expanding and I just couldn't come down without the security of that bolt. While belayed by Guy I rappelled down my haul line that I had fixed to my high point. When I was level with the belay Ron had to pull me in with the end of the haul line since I was at least twenty feet out in space away from them!
We had not planned to bivy at this belay. Had we known our situation prior to moving all of our gear to this spot, we may have slept some if we had fixed a line back down to the mausoleum. There was no ledge. Guy and I hung in our hammocks while Ron hung in a boson's seat. We passed around our rations of food and water for the night. Afterwards, the battle ensued to get comfortable and to keep the chill of the night out. None of us won our battles. I was glad to leave my discomfort in the dark hours before dawn to resume the lead.
This incredibly beautiful pitch ended a full rope length out on a foot sized stance on the arete. The position here is exposed. Over 1000 feet above our starting point, the steepness is surreal, but always confirmed to be fact each time that Guy launches into space to ascend his rope to the belay. This was Guy's first wall. In fact, Guy had only climbed a handful of times on small crags. I was impressed by Guy's "go for it"; attitude, especially since Guy had never used ascenders prior to this climb! Prior to our climb (at the base) I had instilled in Guy the few basic rules of big wall climbing and using ascenders. I'm confident that he will never forget them.
Granite Desert
On the wall above us, the features we had hoped that were usable cracks turned out to be mere ripples in the sea of granite above. Fortunately, we were now at the top of the overhanging part of the wall. Now we faced only vertical blank rock! I brought along a crumpled 11 by 17 inch photograph that I had taken on one of my previous trips. Periodically checking the photo was our only gauge of where we were out here in this granite desert.
Ron boldly bat hooked, riveted and beaked his way just short of a good crack system; again, a full rope length out. This pitch is so "out there" that I fear that anyone to fall on this lead will not only take the "big one," but they will most undoubtedly kill them self on the large spike of granite that forms part of the belay. The pitch consumed most of our daylight and after cleaning the pitch, Ron and I rappelled down, joining Guy to bivy at the beginning of the pitch. The antics of a full hanging bivouac are always the same. After a few days out you'd think that someone would be able to sleep, not because you're getting used to it, but because you're just so damn exhausted.
Ron learns about Warren Harding. photo: e.c. joe
The next day arrived just as the last. It is obvious that we all are wearing thin, psychologically and physically. Ron grew impatient with the time in which I was moving and occasional arguments arose. He failed to realize that we were losing it due to the lack of sleep and water. We had totally committed ourselves to climbing Tehipite Dome and each cursed the thought of walking out defeated. It is next to impossible to retreat from this monster now. We must continue. Dehydrated and hungry, we entertained our fantasies with a ration of Gummie Life Savers instead of water.
The next lead was mixed. The climbing included some welcome handcracks and then back to aid. The nailing and nutting in this was quite awkward and time consuming. The end of the lead included a scary mantle onto the belay stance. Given the circumstances, I am surprised that I recovered just enough to somehow keep myself from falling off backwards off that move, ten feet out from my last piece of protection. I tried to yell down to announce that the angle eased off some and that we might get to free climb and make better time.
It still seemed like we were moving in slow motion. After nailing a short section above, Ron then downclimbed a diagonal ramp down and right to a ledge at the base of a huge corner. It was great to reach a place that we could stand or sit again. The only problem was that the ledge, the "Sierra Sahara" was totally sheltered from any breeze whatsoever, which allowed the sun to continue its daily ritual of roasting us. It was a major effort to do anything without coming close to passing out. While waiting for Ron to finish free climbing the next pitch I lay in the shade of a tiny bush in hopes of getting cooler. The hauling negated the bonus of lower angled free climbing. Low angled hauling sucks!
The next lead appeared easy, although with every few moves I feel that I am ready to pass out. I need to hyperventilate to cool myself down while I rest. The crew is complaining for me to hurry up. I tell them the truth that I'm doing the best I can. My so-called easy lead up a huge left facing corner looks improbable up higher. I plug in a good cam and follow a natural feature out left to a straight-in crack system. I think that I may need a bolt here, but I'm too exhausted to spend the time. I crank off some irreversible moves to a spot that I think takes protection. It doesn't. I look back to assess my situation. I am now about 40 feet up and left of that good cam; that left facing corner looming below with my name on it. The spot I am standing in is not a good stance for anything. So I move on. I am able to finally get something in, but I am spent. I resort to the "French free" method to conserve my overall strength. Whatever works. My lead unfortunately does not get us to a terrace that we know exists up there, somewhere. We have made some progress, but it is difficult for us to notice. Our focus is to reach the terrace and find a spring that supposedly exists there. We haven't made it yet.
Ron leads through, and as darkness greets us again, we forge on. Guy is really out of it. When Ron finished his lead, I tell Guy to immediately ascend up on my rope while I deal with the haulbags and the anchor. While muscling the bags around I realize that I had never tied myself back in on Guy's rope after the trade. Here I was, over a thousand feet off the deck, standing on a sloping ramp, holding on to my etrier! Oops! Too wiped out to act like it was a big deal, I tied myself back in. This was a harsh reminder to me to double check everything, especially when your at wit's end.
The three long difficult free pitches finally get us to the terrace that divides the lower wall from the upper dome. That night we split the last of our water, a third of a quart and the little food that remained. As if choreographed, we each licked the jelly off of our MRE crackers, pondered our crackers only for a brief moment as we found them too dry to chew and tossed them over the edge into the blackness. Ron and I then ventured across the ledge. The spring on the ledge was not flowing much, but it was enough to dampen a T-shirt in which to cool our brows down.
To Die For?
It is the morning of our sixth day on the wall and tenth day out from the trailhead. We discuss our predicament and temperaments are still edgy. Total mutiny between the others and myself is imminent. Then, we are startled to the fact that the peregrine falcon that had accompanied us throughout our journey had been perched next to us on a bush during our conversation! We decide that it is best stay together and to escape by working our way across the ledge until we reach water. We will have to worry about the upper half of the dome some other time. Mysteriously, we are led to a miniscule although suitable source of water to stave off our dehydration by the peregrine falcon's cry and appearance over the appropriate spot. Every little bit counts. Later that day we find a creek northwest of the dome and camp. We have just enough cookable trail food to feed ourselves for the next two days of walking out to the trailhead.
Alive to Climb Another Day
By mid October Ron, Guy and I return. Hiking the eighteen miles in one day, we make a basecamp at the creek we had passed on the way out after our last bout with Tehipite. Traversing back to our high point we continued the route on the upper dome. Starting up the line above the corner that got us to the ledge from the lower wall, we move left out onto a prominent arete. Ron cruises up this classic, difficult steep face pitch to a blocky ledge below a steep headwall. We are fresh and it seems that we have all but forgotten the suffering and conflicts that we had endured during our last visit.
Following straight thin cracks up through two major horizontal crack/bands allows me to tension traverse left to a diagonal ramp ending at a belay just below a prominent right facing corner / chimney. The climbing is difficult; the pitches long and are on excellent rock. Ron leads up an awkward step up left and then right, climbing some difficult moves up the chimney to a belay at the intersection of a wide crack that comes in from above and left.This crack system, we hope will give us a more direct line to the summit. This wide section proves to be a bit grueling for me, but opens up to intricate mixed free and aid moves to give us access to a ledge just left of another, but much easier wide crack. This lead is short, belaying only about eighty feet out. I then head right a few moves to an enjoyable left facing corner. This day seems much less eventful than any of the days on our last attempt, but the climbing is mostly free. We move quickly. We face even shorter daylight hours now, but we are prepared to climb to the top. Committed to climb the remainder of the route in a day, we have brought no bivy gear and just enough food and water for the day. We have no intentions of backing down or staying another night on this stone.
In the autumn darkness, Ron, Guy and I climb by headlamp on quality granite towards a seemingly unreachable horizon. Four more long pitches of easy, but runout face climbing bring us to an unroping spot at blocky ledges well below the true summit. As climbing partners and friends, we soon we share the stars and silence of the wilderness at midnight. We are bonded by our struggle and commitment to arrive at this spot by our chosen path. Each of us has changed from this adventure and our hearts may never leave this beautiful place, ever. Tehipite Dome is virtually unknown to today's media hyped, corporate sponsored climbing world. Nevertheless, we our proud to have made it to the summit of the longest technical big wall route (yes, taller than El Capitan) in the Sierra Nevada. VI 5.10 A3+, 21 pitches (60 meter ropes used).
Zelly nearing the top of his first big wall. photo: e.c. joe
The route...
As for climbing pants, make sure to go for a quality pair...
