She is my mistress – seductive and alluring on a given day, yet heartless and unforgiving the next. Charming and provocative, she calls me to caress her flanks, luring me with promises of love and fulfillment; then just as quickly, she changes her mind and smashes me underfoot like one of the millions of silverfish that swarm across her face in the depths of night. She is constant, yet fickle; eternal, yet dynamic; beautiful yet terrifying; my dearest lover and confidant yet my greatest foe and challenge. She has forced me to look within – to face down my greatest fears, to recognize my weakest character flaws and confess my most grievous sins – then she leaves me stranded to float alone in a sea of pride and ask, “why?”
Why have I spared you, little man? You who assault me with your steel and aluminum, then later boast of your purported success? You who thinks he is in control, but can never be. For with me, there is no such thing as luck; there is only fate and destiny. All the days ordained for you were written in my book before one of them came to be, and it is I and my Maker who have written them. So look on both of us with honour, and with awe – we who tolerate you, we who preserve you, we who understand you, we who love you. For I am your mistress, I am your Captain.
El Capitan is one of the biggest and certainly the most familiar granite monolith in the world – and the “Big Stone” is where great climbers [and not-so-great climbers] of the contemporary era have come to initiate or refine their big wall skills. Modern big wall climbing was invented here, and today nearly all new big wall developments originate in Yosemite. Virtually all of the ascensionists of the world’s longest, hardest and most remote big walls cut their teeth on El Capitan, and forged their skills in her granite crucible. In the past year or so, El Cap has come to the forefront of public attention, first from the movie Dawn Wall featuring Kevin Jorgeson and Tommy Caldwell finishing up a ten-year project with a successful free ascent. And then the entire world watched Alex Honnold make a ropeless ascent of the route Free Rider on the Southwest Face – the movie Free Solo won the Oscar for Best Documentary. The soloing footage was so vertiginous and gripping, it had me sweating in the movie theatre and reaching for an imaginary chalk bag.
So that’s El Cap for you, the “Centre of the Universe” not just for big wall aid climbing, but also for the longest and hardest free routes ever climbed. Where else but Yosemite can you rub elbows with Lynn Hill, share a beer with Alex and Thomas Huber, shoot the shit with Pete Whittaker, or have supper with Nina Caprez? We’re all common climbers around here, just a bunch of dirtbags out having fun and sending routes. Everyone who is anyone ends up here eventually, along with the rest of us gumbies, wannabes, has-beens and never-beens. But the scene is vastly different than when my post-divorce renaissance began in the mid-90s, when beta and topos were jealously hoarded, and a New Wave rating system temporarily emerged where locals downrated familiar classics in an attempt to make themselves appear more bitchin’. Nowadays folks are chill, and you’ll enjoy a welcoming atmosphere where you can hang out with unpretentious monkeys, who just so happen to be amongst the most accomplished climbers on the planet.
Why have I spared you, little man? You who assault me with your steel and aluminum, then later boast of your purported success? You who thinks he is in control, but can never be. For with me, there is no such thing as luck; there is only fate and destiny. All the days ordained for you were written in my book before one of them came to be, and it is I and my Maker who have written them. So look on both of us with honour, and with awe – we who tolerate you, we who preserve you, we who understand you, we who love you. For I am your mistress, I am your Captain.
El Capitan is one of the biggest and certainly the most familiar granite monolith in the world – and the “Big Stone” is where great climbers [and not-so-great climbers] of the contemporary era have come to initiate or refine their big wall skills. Modern big wall climbing was invented here, and today nearly all new big wall developments originate in Yosemite. Virtually all of the ascensionists of the world’s longest, hardest and most remote big walls cut their teeth on El Capitan, and forged their skills in her granite crucible. In the past year or so, El Cap has come to the forefront of public attention, first from the movie Dawn Wall featuring Kevin Jorgeson and Tommy Caldwell finishing up a ten-year project with a successful free ascent. And then the entire world watched Alex Honnold make a ropeless ascent of the route Free Rider on the Southwest Face – the movie Free Solo won the Oscar for Best Documentary. The soloing footage was so vertiginous and gripping, it had me sweating in the movie theatre and reaching for an imaginary chalk bag.
So that’s El Cap for you, the “Centre of the Universe” not just for big wall aid climbing, but also for the longest and hardest free routes ever climbed. Where else but Yosemite can you rub elbows with Lynn Hill, share a beer with Alex and Thomas Huber, shoot the shit with Pete Whittaker, or have supper with Nina Caprez? We’re all common climbers around here, just a bunch of dirtbags out having fun and sending routes. Everyone who is anyone ends up here eventually, along with the rest of us gumbies, wannabes, has-beens and never-beens. But the scene is vastly different than when my post-divorce renaissance began in the mid-90s, when beta and topos were jealously hoarded, and a New Wave rating system temporarily emerged where locals downrated familiar classics in an attempt to make themselves appear more bitchin’. Nowadays folks are chill, and you’ll enjoy a welcoming atmosphere where you can hang out with unpretentious monkeys, who just so happen to be amongst the most accomplished climbers on the planet.
After helping me schlep my pig down the final bit, Nina Caprez served us beers and dinner. (Photo Credit: Piton Pete Collection)
The route New Dawn is a direct start to Warren Harding’s iconic Wall of Early Morning Light, following a more natural line up to El Cap Tower on the Nose, and then a spectacular two-pitch traverse rightwards to join WOEML for a straight shot to the summit. And in spite of me having enjoyed a reasonable degree of success on her walls, as of this past fall, New Dawn had spat me off three times. The first two tries were dismal – we fixed a few pitches, but ended up bailing before blasting due to partners who had not brought enough commitment, desire and/or days available to climb.
For me, my method of reaching the summit has been to bring enough food, water, beer and time to win by attrition, and you can’t argue with success. My third try brought motivated partners and plenty of the four requisite items listed above, but ended eight or so pitches from the top when we got hammered by a four-day storm two thousand feet off the deck. With a single-day weather window forecast before a continuing tempestuous onslaught, we took the opportunity to bail on Adam Ondra’s fixed lines. Adam made quick work of the second free ascent, knocking it off in only about a week of practice. These days, El Cap is home to the moviestars, and before long they will probably sell bus tours like they do in Hollywood, and perhaps a guidebook to locate the hangouts of the not-so-rich and infamous.
Sharing a Beer with Adam Ondra during my Third Bail from New Dawn (Photo Credit: Piton Pete Collection)
September, 2019 – time to get this New Dawn monkey off my back. I chose as my partner Hayden Robinson, a local monkey who had come to Yosemite for a temporary job and had never left. Over beers in the Mountain Room Bar the previous spring season – where Hayden has since become the youngest full bartender in Yosemite National Park history – we hatched our diabolical plan. I am, after all, the Diabolical Dr. Piton, and all my plans are thusly accorded. We agreed to meet on the El Cap Bridge in the fall, and begin fixing pitches. The day I drove to meet him, he was already there waiting for me. Because if you want to climb with me, you have to say what you’ll do, then do what you say.
Hayden and I spent a couple of days fixing pitches, enlisting the load-schlepping assistance of whichever climbers I could convince to “tag along, see how we put together our systems, and learn stuff. Oh, by the way, I have a pig with your name on it.” Sometimes this works, and other times we have to carry up all the crap ourselves. At blastoff time, we arranged our haul lines into a continuous loop to set up a Remote Simul Space Haul, which allows anyone we can recruit at the base to clip a jug to the pulldown side of the loop, and help us haul our pigs quickly to the top station. Put enough climbers on the pulldown side who walk together down the slab, and up go the pigs pretty much for free. Just like Tom Sawyer – who convinced his friends of the “privilege” of painting Aunt Polly’s fence – I am kind of like Today’s Tom Sawyer, of whom Geddy Lee sings in the Canadian rock band Rush.
The two of us spent three nights on the wall, working our way slowly up to Lay Lady Ledge at the top of P7. This is in keeping with Dr. Piton Rule #2, “No climber shall begin climbing before noon.” Hayden struggled through the incredibly awkward slot on P5, something I led once and swore I would never repeat. The pitch below Lay Lady Ledge might be the easiest C1 on the route, and in a fit of pique, I knocked it off in half an hour, ensuring we had plenty of time to enjoy the stellar digs that this spacious bivy offers.
I immediately prepared two Big Wall Margaritas. Lay Lady Ledge is one of only two places on El Cap – the other being Thanksgiving Ledge – where you can unrope and just hang out and party, and probably not fall off. We had hauled up thirty pounds of firewood – because we could – and as the sun set we enjoyed a warm campfire and grilled sausages accompanied by a fine Sierra Foothills Cabernet Sauvignon. Because Dr. Piton Rule #1 is, “I don’t want to catch anyone not drinking.”
Big Shit-Eating Grins and Big Wall Margaritas on Lay Lady Ledge. Can you believe I forgot the salt?! (Photo Credit: Piton Pete Collection)
The next day, I wobbled up the long and involved pitch above our camp, then sicced Hayden on the intimidating wide pitch that comes next. We had only three cams of the correct size, and Hayden was forced to walk the cams up the crack for bollock-shrivelling runouts – where falling is not an option – until protection of a different size could be sparsely placed. Because you wouldn’t dare leave one of your key-sized cams behind for pro, or you’d bugger yourself.
We returned to Lay Lady Ledge that night for more wine and merriment, but before the libations had even commenced, Hayden lost a disagreement with a can of chicken, putting a huge slice into his left ring finger. After arterial streams of blood gushed three feet across the ledge, Hayden calmly applied pressure while keeping his hand elevated above his head. Eventually we dared to look, and were disturbed to see the muscle herniating out through the wound. “That’s a good place for you to get a cut,” I remarked. “With any luck, you’ll never fit a wedding ring over that bulge.”
The next day, Hayden made an heroic effort to lead the next two pitches to the top of the corner where we addressed the reality of our team’s situation. Hayden had posted some photos of his appallingly nasty injury on social media, and the internet doctors were unanimous in their diagnosis, ranging from “Are you f*cking nuts?!” to “Get the hell down now and get the damn thing treated!”
There was no way I was going to bail this easily. We emptied the pigs, and left a stash of food, beer, tequila and 11 gallons of water on the stance two pitches above Lay Lady, then we rapped back to spend the night, pulling the ropes behind us from our hard-won pitches. The next day, we calculated pitch lengths and ropes available, left the rest of our supplies on Lay Lady, pulled our ropes down to the top of 6, then fixed our remaining ropes directly to the ground. We used the old anchor bolts on Leo Houlding’s Passage to Freedom, the free variation which was mostly used by Tommy and Kevin. Standing at the base after bailing yet again, I looked upwards at my mistress. Bloody ‘ell, you bitch – I’m 0 fer 4!
I needed a new team for New Dawn, and spread the word. Quick to respond and commit were Justin Lawrence, who had photographed Alex Honnold and the late Brad Gobright on El Niño, and Daniel Joo, a lad who was short on experience but big on motivation, and with a teachable spirit that you need to succeed with the likes of me.
“You guys will never get a higher jump start on El Cap than this,” I said.
While I waited for Daniel and Justin to make their ways to Yosemite, I made a quick resupply run back up to Lay Lady Ledge with help from Debbie, a novice big wall climber who jugged the seven hundred feet like a pro. We replenished my depleted supplies of Tasty Bites, Murphy’s stout and firewood, fixed a borrowed rope from 6 to 7, and the team was now set to blast. Daniel was psyched, and ready to head up before me and Justin. “I’m going to start early and solo haul to Lay Lady Ledge, then wait for you guys to catch up to me.” “O’Really?” I replied. “And just how are you going to manage that without an extra haul line and fifi hook to hang your pig from when you’re jugging?”
“I’ve got a hook right here,” said Daniel, handing me a Grappling hook, about as far removed from a fifi as you can get. “That’s Big Wall Theory, buddy,” I told him, “No way it’ll work.”
“Sure it will, just watch.” Daniel hung the hook from a makeshift anchor sling that Justin was holding to simulate his suspended haul bag, then proceeded to pull upwards as though to release the pig. The hook tangled irretrievably.
A Dr. Piton Mini-Big Wall Tutorial commenced, where we jerry-rigged Daniel’s skyhook into a fifi using some cord, duct tape and a bit of ingenuity. Daniel set off at first light the next day, and we were amazed to watch his speedy progress from the El Cap Meadow – he solo hauled the entire seven hundred feet in about six hours! Any concerns I might have had over his competence or motivation immediately vanished. Justin and I caught up that evening, where we enjoyed another splendid campfire and Justin’s Big Wall Whisky followed by flame-broiled Bubba brand bacon cheeseburgers [they had me at “Bubba”].
Grilling Burgers over the Campfire on Lay Lady Ledge – they had me at “Bubba” (Photo Credit: Piton Pete Collection)
The next day, I figured it would be in the team’s best interest for me to re-lead the first long pitch, and I figured it would be in my best interest for someone else to lead that wide-ass pitch above. Equipped with a few extra big cams on loan from Hayden and Erik “Nanook” Sloan, Justin cruised the wide while I shouted words of encouragement from below, “Shut up and climb!”
I returned to LLL for a mid-afternoon snooze, and just when I was wondering if they had made it as far as El Cap Tower, Daniel radioed me to say they were already at the top of our corner, and was fixing to come back down. Dang, he made short work of those two free climbing pitches!
In the morning, we packed up our kit from Lay Lady for the last time, and hauled up the giant corner system to a decently comfortable ledge near the base of Texas Flake. Here we began the traverse to the right to connect horizontally with the Wall of Early Morning Light. As I was cleaning, Daniel belayed Justin as he led across towards WOEML. About this time, a couple of rope ends dropped down, with Tommy Caldwell and Kevin Jorgeson attached somewhere above. Disturbingly, there were no knots tied in the end of either of the ropes, and Daniel quickly installed a barrel knot in each to prevent the unthinkable from happening.
Tommy Caldwell and Kevin Jorgeson working the free moves on their new route,
after Daniel tied knots in the ends of their rappel ropes. (Photo Credit: Piton Pete Collection)
As Kevin and Tommy rappelled past us, they told us they were inspecting the rock for a new free climb up El Capitan. They queried us regarding our bivy plans on Lay Lady Ledge, and I assured them there was plenty of room for all of us. “Just bring me a nice bottle of California Cab if you show up, will ya please, Tommy?”
We led another pitch higher in the dihedrals, and from there it was two hauls to get the pigs up four pitches. My two 80m-long haul lines were particularly handy, because the excess haul line becomes your lower-out line. Even so, the loads still took a terrifying ten-plus-metre swing at the end of the haul, fortunately across blank granite with no impact points.
As Kevin and Tommy rappelled past us, they told us they were inspecting the rock for a new free climb up El Capitan. They queried us regarding our bivy plans on Lay Lady Ledge, and I assured them there was plenty of room for all of us. “Just bring me a nice bottle of California Cab if you show up, will ya please, Tommy?”
We led another pitch higher in the dihedrals, and from there it was two hauls to get the pigs up four pitches. My two 80m-long haul lines were particularly handy, because the excess haul line becomes your lower-out line. Even so, the loads still took a terrifying ten-plus-metre swing at the end of the haul, fortunately across blank granite with no impact points.
Looking Across the Traverse to Wall of Early Morning Light, North America Wall in Profile. (Photo Credit: Piton Pete Collection)
We next climbed three pitches straight up to Wino Tower, following a shallow dihedral with an incipient crack system. Warren Harding was disappointed to find no crack he could nail, at least with 1970 technology, so he was forced to place a number of “rivets”, actually aluminum dowels with the heads mushroomed enough to accept a wire hanger. Amazingly, these dowels are still in decent condition nearly a half-century later, having oxidized less than the Grade 5 steel machine bolts that were popular in the coming decade.
I think if these pitches had been left unclimbed until the 90s, someone like the wily and ballsy Steve Gerberding could have climbed them without drilling by using new advancements like micro-cams, heads and peckers. Such tactics could have produced several legit A5 pitches – a full ropelength where no drilling nor enhancement of the placements are made. A5 is rare, even on El Cap.
We reached Wino Tower that evening, and down came Tommy Caldwell from above – not to stay, but to make a special trip to deliver us a Big Wall Wine Bottle! Good ol’ Tommy…
We made quick work of the next easy pitches above our bivy, and soon came back into plumb beneath the Harding Roof which looms above. As I led across the rivet traverse, the ropes came down once again, and Alex Honnold began working the free moves on self-belay toprope. “Hey Pete, be careful nailing that flake and don’t knock it off – I need it to free climb.” I watched in amazement as Alex’s gecko-like hands casually pawed the edges. “You should really take up free climbing, Pete,” he suggested. “I led a 5.8 last week…”
Alex Honnold Photo-Bombs Pete’s Selfie (Photo Credit: Piton Pete Collection)
“So how long do you think it will take you guys to free climb this new route?” I asked. Alex replied, “We hope to finish it this season – it’s only 5.13d so not too hard.”
We spent the next couple of days sharing pitches with Alex, Tommy and Kevin Jorgeson, common climbers hanging out in the usual places, having fun doing what we all love to do. Resting on my portaledge under the Harding Roof, Alex remarked, “I haven’t seen you in a couple seasons, Pete – with all that grey in your beard, you look like Santa Claus.” I quipped to Alex in return, “So I see you’ve given up climbing on the Old Ladies’ Side of El Cap, and made it over here to the right side where us real men climb.”
We spent the next couple of days sharing pitches with Alex, Tommy and Kevin Jorgeson, common climbers hanging out in the usual places, having fun doing what we all love to do. Resting on my portaledge under the Harding Roof, Alex remarked, “I haven’t seen you in a couple seasons, Pete – with all that grey in your beard, you look like Santa Claus.” I quipped to Alex in return, “So I see you’ve given up climbing on the Old Ladies’ Side of El Cap, and made it over here to the right side where us real men climb.”
Common Climbers Found in their Common Hangout, Twenty Five Hundred Feet Off the Deck
Beneath the Harding Roof on El Cap. From L to R – Alex, Justin, Kevin and Pete. (Photo Credit: Piton Pete Collection)
I asked Alex how the fame from Free Solo was treating him. “Dude, I can’t even walk through Camp 4 anymore without getting mobbed.” Kevin later said, “Alex told us he was walking back from taking a dump on the summit, and someone stopped him and asked him for an autograph.”
Kevin, Tommy and Alex all marvelled over the quality of the pitches – “These are some of the best cracks on all of El Cap!”
To me, the cracks weren’t all that aesthetic, having been made climbable by aid climbers like me, repeatedly nailing and removing pitons to create the fingertip pods that the heroes were now using as free climbing holds. After Alex’s burn, it was Kevin’s turn to take a go at it.
Tommy Caldwell dropped in next, and hung out with us for a while on my ledge before Daniel led the roof pitch above.
Kevin Jorgeson Working the 5.13d Pitch below the Harding Roof – Ya Think He’s Havin’ Fun?
By evening, Daniel and Justin and I had reached the sidewalk-sized ledge two pitches below the summit at the base of the former A5 horror show death pitch of Reticent Wall, which now resembles a beat-out trade route. Daniel led the penultimate pitch the next day, and I finished the route to the ultimate and most spectacular top-out on El Cap, where you end up hauling from a foot-wide ledge with nothing but air below your toes for three thousand feet. The New Dawn monkey was finally off of my back.
Pete, Tommy and Daniel – that’s Tommy’s “good” hand, but you can see the missing tip of his left index finger. Dang, my beard does make me look like Santa. (Photo Credit: Piton Pete Collection)
We had reached the summit in late afternoon, and we managed to shuttle everything to the top by nightfall. Unfortunately our summit Sherpa Debbie had taken a wrong turn hiking in from Tamarack Flat, and was lost in the woods in the dark. Luckily she had cell phone signal, and after a few 911 calls where they automatically track your location, I was able to type her GPS coordinates into my cell phone. Justin and I then hiked an hour – each way – to “rescue” her. The three of us returned to the summit where the last of our Big Wall Margaritas were consumed in front of a roaring campfire, and the following morning under the customary colossal loads, we staggered down the East Ledges to the safety of our home at the El Cap bridge bear boxes. With our glasses raised we proclaimed, “We cheated death once again.” And in the darkness, with her climbers’ headlamps winking, my mistress smiled down upon me.