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September 28th - Lost Arrow, an epic, later downgraded to an
ordeal:
Wendy: Today we attempted Lost Arrow Spire, a 300 foot spire that
extends out from a cliff near Yosemite Falls (dry at this time of year).
You begin with a long hike up to the valley rim, 3000 (yes thousand) feet above the valley floor, then rappel
300 feet to a spooky notch between the spire and the cliff wall, and then climb back up
the spire. More typical rock climbs start on the ground and climb up, but
for this one you start on the rim and go down, then climb back up.
The
climb is also an "aid" climb rather than a "free" climb,
which is a new type of climbing for Andy and I. In aid climbing, your gear
is used to ascend the wall rather than just for protection. But it
is getting off the spire after your climb that is truly the exciting part.
Using a rope you've anchored between the valley rim and the spire top, you
traverse like a spider across the rope - dangling 3000 feet above the valley!
That was the plan
anyways.
Our friend Ted arrived from San Francisco on Friday night, and
he was to lead the climb. He brought two friends, Michael and Heather, who planned to hike
and take pictures as we climbed. Another 5AM departure and we started up
the trail. The first task was to hike the 4.2 mile trail to the rim of the
Falls. Normally 4.2 miles would be an easy distance for us, but this hike
happens to be straight up hill for 2 hours. Tired legs and sore backs
started off the long day.
We got to the top of
Yosemite Falls, set up our ropes to rappel down to the notch, and Ted started down.
Low clouds were building below us in the valley, and we wrote them off as
"fog" clouds.. The weather forecast said 0% chance of
showers....
The last time Ted did this
climb, he rappelled part way to a bolt station, clipped in to pass over a knot tied in the
ropes (two ropes are tied together for one 300 foot rappel, and one end of this
long rope is brought with us to the top of spire for the exit traverse), and continued the rappel
down to the notch. The necessary step in the rappel process was stopping
at a bolt station to pass the knot, and our "ordeal" began when Ted
got part way down and realized the bolt station had been removed. He was hanging
out of sight, 200 feet below us, and executed some tricky maneuvering
to get around the knot. We had no idea why it took him so long.
Once at the notch, he called up for me to
start the rappel. While rappelling, I refused to look down because I thought I might freak out about how high we were.
When I got part way down, Ted called up in his confident
and always in control voice, "Uh Wendy, there's been a change of
plans."
Change of plans?
I looked at him quizzically, and he explained that the bolt
station was gone, and that I would have to hang on specialized aid equipment
connected to the rope, take myself off my rappel device, pass the knot, and then
reconnect myself to my rappel device. All while hanging 3000 feet above
the ground.
Since I had never used aid
climbing equipment before, it was rather terrifying to fumble with the equipment
without fully understanding how it worked. Wonderful Ted talked
me through the process, and all was good until I glanced down to
pull up the rope, and caught view of the valley floor! Gulp. My stomach
did summersaults, and I calmly talked myself down
the rest of the rope to the notch using Mary DeReimer's famous words (I'm
strong, I'm powerful, and I can do this!). I called up to Andy that I was
off rappel, and he started down the ropes, repeating the same process. His
words as he arrived at the knot, "Is this some kind of bad joke?"
Ted started up the first
climbing pitch of the spire, and then Andy followed and cleaned (removed the
gear) the pitch. Of course, Andy didn't know how to follow an aid pitch so
there was a fair bit of fumbling and expletives as he dragged himself up the
rock. Nothing like being a beginner again.
Uh oh... rain drops. Not good. Andy
arrived at the top of pitch, and then they made the VERY good decision to
retreat down to the notch.
As they rappelled the first pitch, it began gently raining, and then pouring, and then
hailing, and
then came the lightening and thunder. Yikes, keep in mind we were hanging off the
side of a notch between two very exposed rocks with 3000 feet of air below our
butts. There was party of three British climbers above us, and their last
member Chris decided to join us in the rappel. He didn't like the idea of
standing atop a lightning rod either. And he was cold. Very
cold. He looked hypothermic to us actually. He kept mumbling,
"this is getting Baltic, this is getting Baltic, this is getting
Baltic". I guess that's British slang for freezing cold....
Our only option was to
ascend (jumar) up the ropes we had used to get down to the notch (using aid equipment
that allows you to ascend up a rope), and Ted started back up the 300 foot wall
while the three of us stood at the notch and froze. When Ted arrived
at the top (it took him about 30 minutes to ascend the ropes), I started up. I had never
jumared up a rope, so it took
some getting used to, and for the first 30 feet I spun in uncoordinated circles
trying to figure out how to slide the ascenders up. Normally this would
have been very amusing to Andy and Chris, who stood there watching me fumble, if
not for the fact that they were freezing cold and it was hailing. Somehow I figured
the system out and continued up, only to be met by a waterfall of water pouring
down into my jacket as the rain collected on the side of the cliff and poured
over.
This was no time for a wet
t-shirt contest.
I finally got to the top
(45 minutes?), soaked, wet, and
very cold, collected as much gear as I could fit in my pack, and ran toward the
hiking trail to escape the thunder and lightening. Thankfully,
Michael had waited for me, and he and I hiked down together discussing the
day.
Ted waited for Andy and Chris
(still mumbling "baltic, baltic, baltic") to climb up, and then they came down as
well. The 4.2 mile hike down took us almost as long as it took to go up,
since the rocks and trail were slippery, we were carrying very heavy packs, and
we were exhausted. Somehow we made it down, giddy and relieved, and then
went out for dinner in a warm cafe.
If it had stopped here, it
would have been an exciting but not quite epic day. Of course, the day
continued and ended up turning into an ordeal! After dinner, we needed to
find a place to camp, since we did not have a reservation for a campsite.
Climbing rumor has it that you can stealth camp at certain places in Yosemite,
meaning sneak into your car to sleep without the rangers knowing you are
there. It is illegal to sleep in non-designated locations, and if they
catch you they will supposedly ticket you or kick you out of the park.
Legend has it that this never really happens, however. Since we had the
van and Ted, Heather and Michael had a VW Westfalia, we were happy to sleep in
our cars, and we snuck into the Camp 4 parking lot, lights off, sneakily got
ready for bed and settled in for the night. An hour after going to sleep,
I awoke to knocking sounds on a car near ours, and as I came to, I realized it
was a ranger. He was knocking on the windows of another car and saying
"I know you are in there, I can see you sleeping in there sir, and if you
don't come out I'm going to tow your car!" His threats eventually
escalated to him calling in the license plates on his walkie talkie, and then to
him calling for a tow truck. Eventually the person got out, and the ranger
kicked him out of the park for the night. As this was going on, Andy, Ted
and I were huddled in our van trying not to move, fearing that we were
next. Fortunately for us he skipped by our van, but proceeded to go
through the parking lot and bust other stealth campers. They also busted a
bunch of people in the campground for doing drugs, and in the morning we found
out that this was the first time in a very long they had busted people.
Turns out they were looking for someone specific who had committed a crime.
Lucky for us we didn't get
caught, however poor Heather and Michael were in the VW van the ranger called into
his station and then kicked out of the park. We awoke the next morning and
were confused when they weren't parked near us, but figured they had awoken
early to take pictures of the beautiful Yosemite sunrise. No such luck,
and 1 hour later they returned to tell us their story. That's when our
exciting day turned into a full blown ordeal.
Andy: I'll
keep it short, since Wendy wrote a fine thesis on our adventure.
Fortunately, this was what I would classify as a "fun" epic since
things never got out of control, people kept their heads together, and the
danger level was very low (because we decided to descend rather then continue up
to the top of the spire). All-in-all a great adventure!
:)
Gearing up on the rim of Yosemite Falls, cold but clear weather
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Ted descending into the notch, 3000 feet of air below his feet. Sky
is still clear.
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Wendy, terrified as she "passes the knot". Yosemite Valley in
the distance, Lost Arrow Spire is the rock to the right. The plan is
to rappel down and climb the spire. Notice haze is starting to move
up the Valley.
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Ted on the long jumar back to the top. Hail, rain, lightning, we
had everything! The weather changed dramatically in 1 hours time.
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