The reasonable man adapts himself to the world, the unreasonable man persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man."
-- George Bernard Shaw.
In August of 1953, I contracted Paralytic Polio. My first surgeries related to the Polio took place before I was two. Many surgeries followed throughout my childhood, and teen years, and some were more successful than others.
When I was 12 the growth centers were removed from my left leg, which was then three inches longer than the right leg. The doctor's thinking was my right leg would grow even with the left. Their calculations were far enough off that my right leg grew 2 inches longer than the left. So, when I was 19, two and a quarter inches of femur was removed from my right hip, and an 18-inch long rod was inserted through my hip for the next eighteen months. My first four months of recovery were spent in a body cast, and if my right knee and hip were less than stellar before these procedures, they were far more compromised now.
Another result of all of this, I was further affected by something that I had already been dealing with for the last decade, Post Polio Syndrome [a gradual weakening of the muscles years after the initial attack by the Polio virus, ed.]. Though I had no idea exactly what Post Polio Syndrome was, I had been living with the devastating effects that is part of being affected by it for at least ten years. It would be another decade plus until I diagnosed myself with this insidious sequalae, and over two more decades before I actually took steps to address it and make the compromises necessary to simply survive.
If things had not been difficult enough already, more serious challenges were waiting to test my mettle. Resolution and fortitude that I had yet to imagine would be needed to deal with the ill effects of cars that ran into me on my bicycle and motorcycles. The Post Polio Syndrome specialist I saw in San Francisco in '91 - who significantly compromised my ability to use my right arm for some time after his 'exam' - advised me to stop climbing and exercising. He told me that if I did not plant my butt in a power chair to get around, and follow his other less than sage advice, that in a few years my right arm would atrophy down to nothing and be hanging by my side.
That arm is now stronger than ever-by doing the exact opposite of what he recommended.
He was not the only physician I have seen who has injured me. Others have made poor decisions on my behalf that have had, and continue to have far reaching long term negative effects. But what has made my life most challenging, has been the many physical assaults that I have endured, and barely survived.
When I was 12 the growth centers were removed from my left leg, which was then three inches longer than the right leg. The doctor's thinking was my right leg would grow even with the left. Their calculations were far enough off that my right leg grew 2 inches longer than the left. So, when I was 19, two and a quarter inches of femur was removed from my right hip, and an 18-inch long rod was inserted through my hip for the next eighteen months. My first four months of recovery were spent in a body cast, and if my right knee and hip were less than stellar before these procedures, they were far more compromised now.
Another result of all of this, I was further affected by something that I had already been dealing with for the last decade, Post Polio Syndrome [a gradual weakening of the muscles years after the initial attack by the Polio virus, ed.]. Though I had no idea exactly what Post Polio Syndrome was, I had been living with the devastating effects that is part of being affected by it for at least ten years. It would be another decade plus until I diagnosed myself with this insidious sequalae, and over two more decades before I actually took steps to address it and make the compromises necessary to simply survive.
If things had not been difficult enough already, more serious challenges were waiting to test my mettle. Resolution and fortitude that I had yet to imagine would be needed to deal with the ill effects of cars that ran into me on my bicycle and motorcycles. The Post Polio Syndrome specialist I saw in San Francisco in '91 - who significantly compromised my ability to use my right arm for some time after his 'exam' - advised me to stop climbing and exercising. He told me that if I did not plant my butt in a power chair to get around, and follow his other less than sage advice, that in a few years my right arm would atrophy down to nothing and be hanging by my side.
That arm is now stronger than ever-by doing the exact opposite of what he recommended.
He was not the only physician I have seen who has injured me. Others have made poor decisions on my behalf that have had, and continue to have far reaching long term negative effects. But what has made my life most challenging, has been the many physical assaults that I have endured, and barely survived.
You are five times as likely to be assaulted if you are disabled, compared to someone who is not. The assault with the most grave consequences transpired a few months after the appointment with the Post Polio specialist. That one left me barely able to walk for many years, and caused injuries to my back that continue to plague me.
Through it all, I have carried with me a sense that I could create good things from all of this. Though my decades on this earth have been filled with what many would see as one excruciatingly difficult tragedy after another -- soul crushing events that would extinguish the brightest light of hope in the most optimistic of individuals -- at my best, I have chosen to see it all through a far more optimistic lens.
Perhaps it is because near constant challenge is all that I have known. Perhaps, it's because my inner life has been a rich one, no matter how difficult the outer life became.
Pondering it all isn't something that I do very often, as I am usually far too busy attempting to extricate myself from one difficulty after another. And, there is a certain amount of denial about the difficulties that must be employed to keep defying societal expectations. It is difficult to keep from falling down that particular rabbit hole if one stands too close to edge and peers into that void for a protracted period of time.
Having projects that maximize my potential in areas that I am capable of excelling in is a big part of what makes my life as full and rich as it is.
As an oil painter, although I must paint with a tiny number one brush as a concession to my atrophied hands and wrists, and many other physical issues, I am painting my best canvases to date, at age 67.
Through it all, I have carried with me a sense that I could create good things from all of this. Though my decades on this earth have been filled with what many would see as one excruciatingly difficult tragedy after another -- soul crushing events that would extinguish the brightest light of hope in the most optimistic of individuals -- at my best, I have chosen to see it all through a far more optimistic lens.
Perhaps it is because near constant challenge is all that I have known. Perhaps, it's because my inner life has been a rich one, no matter how difficult the outer life became.
Pondering it all isn't something that I do very often, as I am usually far too busy attempting to extricate myself from one difficulty after another. And, there is a certain amount of denial about the difficulties that must be employed to keep defying societal expectations. It is difficult to keep from falling down that particular rabbit hole if one stands too close to edge and peers into that void for a protracted period of time.
Having projects that maximize my potential in areas that I am capable of excelling in is a big part of what makes my life as full and rich as it is.
As an oil painter, although I must paint with a tiny number one brush as a concession to my atrophied hands and wrists, and many other physical issues, I am painting my best canvases to date, at age 67.
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And, though I must use jumars to ascend a rope, and other less than conventional techniques that I employ to gain vertical progress, I climbed my 45th big wall in 2018, a straight push of Zodiac on El Capitan in Yosemite. It was my 25th ascent of El Capitan, and half of those ascents have taken place in under 24 hours. I have climbed El Cap in every season, and am only missing Feb, having climbed it the other 11 months of the year. I have climbed the big stone in major storms, 107 degree heat, and pleasant conditions as well. 
"Topping out on my first wall with Larry Zulim," Zodiac September, 1990. Photo Credit: Sheldon Wilcox
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Steve Schneider and the author, Wayne Willoughby, on Lurking Fear, El Capitan, Yosemite. The First adaptive ascent of the route was done by Wayne in October 1994. "Steve led and I cleaned all but the two big traverses." Photo Credit: Chris Falkenstein
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From the time that I climbed my first wall, an ascent of Zodiac in 1990, I have understood in no uncertain terms that the magic to be found in the rarefied air high off the deck is something that is far more powerful than the things that get in the way of me being there.
The limitations imposed by these twisted, atrophied limbs, the constant pain and fatigue, and the mean-spirited, ignorant, ableist behavior of many, are formidable obstacles. As have been the grave injuries that I had to fight back from, again and again, not just to climb again, but to walk. And then, only with great difficulty, the assistance of my hiking poles, and braces on my feet, knees and wrists.
The limitations imposed by these twisted, atrophied limbs, the constant pain and fatigue, and the mean-spirited, ignorant, ableist behavior of many, are formidable obstacles. As have been the grave injuries that I had to fight back from, again and again, not just to climb again, but to walk. And then, only with great difficulty, the assistance of my hiking poles, and braces on my feet, knees and wrists.
Lurking Fear, El Capitan, Yosemite, CA, December 2014, 20 hour ascent. Photo Credit: Eric Walden.
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Lurking Fear, El Capitan, Yosemite, CA, 2017. A 16 hour, 43 minute ascent. Photo Credit: Kristoffer Wickstrom.
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By following this path, not only is there a hugely positive effect that takes place in my own life with every wall that I climb, but the experience is equally as powerful for many of my partners. And through that process, close friendships have been formed that have stood the test of time over decades, and continue to.
All of this makes me an exceptionally lucky person, and that knowledge is something that carries me through the difficult days with far less weight on my shoulders than were this not the case. If not for the desire to continue to climb, paint and write about my experiences, I cannot imagine how I would have found the strength and firmness of purpose to continue-coming back from one major setback after another, every decade since the early 1950's.
This eagerness, determination and ambition to continue has been reinforced again and again; by those who have told me that they have been inspired by my story. As well as by those who find it all amusing, and love to ridicule and persecute myself, as well as others with disabilities.
Persistence, an unwavering belief in my ability, and the desire to find out what is possible for myself, with no small amount of assistance from the best friends that a man could hope to have, has allowed me to defy conventional beliefs and become not only the first adaptive climber to climb El Capitan in a day, but set speed records for able climbers on El Cap, and other big walls.
My partners and I hold speed records for routes in:
- Zion, (Dark Side of the Moon) in 16:40 in 2016 with Kristoffer Wickstrom and Karl Kvashay;
- On the Chief in British Columbia, Canada (The first one day ascent of the Aid Route on the Sheriff's Badge in 2018 with Kieran Brownie and Luke Cormier); And,
- on El Capitan, Yosemite, California (Bad Seed in 19:12 with Hans Florine and the late Brian McCray, 1998).
Dark Side of the Moon, Zion National Park, Utah, 2016. We set the record on this ascent - 16 hours, 40 minutes.
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Dark Side of the Moon, Zion National Park, Utah, 2016.
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All of these events only transpired because I believed that accomplishing them was possible, good things could come from having done them, and my partners belief in me and what we were doing.
Though I did manage to climb 4 walls in 2018; it was with my vertebral column very much out of place, and a still healing badly sprained wrist from 2017, which was re-injured in early 2018. It's weakened state forced me to do all of my ascents that year using mostly one hand and arm and one leg. And I thought that the approaches, climbs and descents had been difficult with two hands!!
New injuries in 2019 sent me down a rabbit hole the likes of which I had never seen. The Post Polio Syndrome that I have dealt with for nearly six decades exploded in ferocity. Climbing walls was no longer the biggest challenge in my life, surviving each day was.
Grand Wall, The Chief, Squamish, British Columbia, with Brad Ward. 2011. Photo Credit: Will Stanhope
I have never thought of myself as someone who gives up easily. Perseverance and determination have served me well in the past, and they continue to.
As I gradually regained my health, physicality and enthusiasm, I began connecting with friends and making plans for future ascents.
It took me all of a week to schedule an ascent in the Black Canyon, two ascents of the Chief, and to make plans for not only another El Capitan ascent, but one that would be part of a film I am putting together.
Wayne Willoughby and Dave Chewy on Astrodog in the Black Canyon, Colorado, 2016. Photo Credit: Timmy O Neil
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Dave Chewy, Tim O Neil, and the author pulling over the ledge, on Astrodog, Black Canyon, Colorado. Photo Credit: Jack Plantz
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Though I was never going to be able to turn back the hands of time and boulder and free climb as I had for a great many years, I would be able to jumar my way up more than a few more walls if I could continue to find dramatic healing, yet again. The calamitous issues related to my legions of injuries, catching myself as I hit the ground with no small amount of force after having fallen, literally many thousands of times, and the deleterious effects of Post Polio Syndrome, have left my wrists much the worse for wear. Wearing braces on both writsts is essential for protecting them, which not only does not lend itself to free climbing very effectively, additionally it is not a recipe for climbing longevity.
Nor is taking leader falls, or even shorter falls aid climbing, which can have a devastating effect on my knees, ankles and my back.
I cleaned all but the two traversing pitches on a 1994 ascent of Lurking Fear on El Cap without any issues; until we topped out and I could barely move my right leg. The result of carrying the rack, all of the shenanigans I was required to do, getting the haul bags unstuck, etc., and overusing the atrophied muscles to such a degree that they needed several days to even begin to recover.
I knew that I would have to add a lot more muscle to that leg, and to the rest of my body, before I could manage cleaning again, and was I right. By dedicating myself to a rigorous training schedule I managed to make enough progress to clean every pitch on an '07 ascent of Pervertical Sanctuary on the Diamond in RMNP, with my friend Michael Haag.
I had hoped for more of the same, however, the following year I was hit by another car while riding my motorcycle. The most disastrous of the injuries were to my right foot and knee, which were left much the worse for wear and left me unable to effectively weight that leg any longer, or stem. Not only was leading anything but very easy pitches behind me, but now, so was cleaning.
Wayne Willoughby (the author), Brandon Adams, and Kristoffer Wickstrom on a 17 hour 15 minute, one day ascent of The Shortest Straw, El Capitan, Yosemite, California. 2017. Photo Credit: Tom Evans
Constant adaptation has been a recurring theme throughout my life.
I began climbing in '77 needing only a pair of shorts, a chalk bag, a swami belt, and a rope. I now use both sit and chest harnesses, with my lower jumar clipped between the two, skateboard knee and elbow pads, with another pad to protect my right hip. I always wear a helmet additionally, because the last thing that I need is a brain injury!
I use a speed stirrup for my left foot clipped to my top jumar, a daisy chain girth hitched to my sit harness, also clipped to the top jug, with my right leg hanging below me, unless I am able to lean on my right knee pad when the angle of the rock is suitable.
I have climbed Zodiac on El Cap eight times so far, and on each of those ascents I mantled over the top. I often use free climbing tricks to manage my position and gain vertical progress when not jumaring free hanging pitches. On one ascent of the Chief I did free moves all of the way up a 5.8 pitch moving my jumars up as I went.
The Chief, University Wall, Squamish, British Columbia, Jon Rigg, Chris Trull, and Wayne Willoughby. 2018
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Rappelling in the dark with Chris Trull. University Wall, The Chief, Squamish, British Columbia. 2018. Photo Credit: Jon Rigg,
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The Chief presents many objective hazards not found on many other walls.
I once had to jumar sideways and up for about thirty feet to avoid being lowered into the small forest on a ledge just below. On another my partner let go of the rope as I was being lowered. I went flying into the top section of a rather large evergreen, only to be catapulted into the granite to the side with no small amount of force.
The worst example of being let go on a lower out was on the far SE face of El Cap. My partner, sure that he could lower me out hand over hand, realized, (after me imploring him to put me in his belay device before I left the anchor), that he could not, and I fell over 40 feet, on an 11 mil static line, which is more like a cable than a rope. Luckily it was a steep pitch and there was only air below me, had there been a ledge, or even an outcropping of rock the results would have been far more catastrophic than the injuries to my back that I incurred.
Every adaptive climber has their own ambitions and methods for gaining vertical progress.
What we all share, is what all climbers share: A love of adventure; The satisfaction that comes from realizing hard fought for goals; Camaraderie and friendship; Being outdoors and in awe of your surroundings; Challenging oneself and finding out what you are capable of; And, developing a better idea of just who you are, from having been involved in that process. In other words, exploring some of the best aspects of being an "unreasonable human".