Trip Report — Aesthetic perfection in Indian Creek and Yosemite
I haven’t written much over the last few weeks, as a combination of climbing, traveling and distractions has kept me quite busy. However, I recently concluded what I’d say were my two most successful rock climbing trips, which have meaningfully affected my approach to rock climbing. As my Kindle has run out of juice, and I still have one more hour to go before I land in Bogota, I figured I’d write them up.
While I haven’t been climbing very long, I’ve experimented across a wide range of climbing approaches and styles in this short time: Gym, Sport, Trad, Ice, technical alpine routes, and mountaineering. I have a tremendous amount to learn about all of them, but I’ve already quickly gravitated towards alpine climbing as my preferred style. I find the beauty, magnitude, and majesty of the mountains awesome and inspiring. I love the multitude of skills required to get up successfully, the seriousness of the undertaking, and the emotional and intellectual challenges. So, I quickly became apathetic about rock climbing, and increasingly seeing as an area I needed to work on to do more interesting alpine objectives, but not as an ends in its own right. Just couldn’t find it that inspiring…
Boy I was wrong! While it is true that a lot of the climbs accessible to folks at my level are, well, not that inspiring, the truth is there are places where the quality of the rock and beauty of the lines will give the alpine a run for its money. Yosemite and Indian Creek are two of those places. While completely different, they both got me excited, energized and inspired to climb rock! The beauty of the lines you can pursue, the stunning backgrounds, and the insane technical challenges just take your breath away.
Both visits got me to reconnect with what I find important about climbing. The aesthetics, the beauty, the majesty and the challenge. And, guess what? If you look just a little carefully, you can find them in the rock as well. At the end of these trips, I was energized and excited to climb rock in a way I hadn’t been since my first trip outdoors to the sea cliffs of Portugal.
Yosemite — ICM
Originally planning on spending a month in Yosemite, I settled for a week as part of the American Alpine Club’s International Climbers’ Meet (ICM). I didn’t know what to expect from the meet, but I figured it’d beat finding partners on Camp 4. In a nutshell, the ICM brings together ~50 climbers from around the world and ~10 host climbers for a week of climbing in Yosemite. To make it manageable, we are divided in subgroups of ~10, but you can climb with anyone you want. The first day you spend it at the crags, but afterwards it’s really open. You just get the benefit of excellent catering (think pancakes for breakfast and delicious food for dinner), great advice and guidance from the hosts, and fantastic camaraderie.
The climbing itself was unlike anything I’ve done before. Getting your feet right in polished granite is not easy and takes a lot of focus and precision. When I went up the first pitch of After Six (a lovely 5.7 introduction to the Valley), I really thought I wouldn’t be able to get up anything all. Fortunately, things got better throughout the week! In the course of the week, I went up Nutcracker, Harry Dailey, Bishop’s Terrace, the Grack, some ridiculously polished route in Church Bowl, and Serenity/Sons (well, 3 pitches up Sons). I French aided when needed and took liberally at times, but came out a much happier and stronger climber.
As great as the climbing was, the people at the meet were even better. I met some new friends, found new climbing partners, and generally had a blast. The ICM is not the cheapest way to climb (~$500 for the week), but if you can afford the fee, definitely worth attending! I hope to be back next year.
Indian Creek
I came home to my airbnb in Boulder on a Wednesday night only to find one of my housemates preparing to leave for Indian Creek the next day. After five minutes of careful consideration, I figured I’d join for the weekend and come back to Boulder the next week.
We left Boulder at 7pm, which is not what I’d recommend you do before undertaking a seven-hour drive. After negotiating some snow and a mild hill that made me wish I could use coal to power my Nissan Sentra, we were on our way to the desert, arriving at the campground at 2am.
After a leisurely start, we got to Donnelly’s, a beginner-friendly crack, at noon. If you’ve never been to the Creek, everyone will warn you that your first day will suck. And, if you are the type of person that wants to go to the Creek, you’ll probably think that your first day will be the exception. Having just spent a week in Yosemite, I thought my crack technique was ready for some desert challenges. Not. The. Case. Forget about getting up on lead. I couldn’t get up on a high-tension top rope. The movements didn’t come naturally to me, and my hands took a massive beating.
But, man, the lines! The perfect fucking lines! Think perfectly-shaped, geometrically precise, intense sandstone, steep walls everywhere. Add stunning vistas of what seems like countless of these walls and the creek going down the valley. That’s your setting. And bisecting these walls, you have these perfect, long, challenging crack lines going up for ages. I’m not religious, but if anything could bring me back to the flock, seeing these beautiful lines has to be at at the top of that list.
So, despite a painful and humbling (boy was it humbling!) first day, I soldiered on. The second day was a little better, and the third day was fantastic. I can’t wait to get back later this fall and finally get a proper send!
Just like in Yosemite, though, the climbing paled in comparison to the company. Zach, Renee and Dane were fantastic partners and camping mates. We supported each other; Zach, as always, incredibly generous with mentorship, advice, and patience (including soloing up 20 feet of Blue Sun to help me with my technique); and everyone relaxing at the campfire at night. Flawless.
