I have a buddy, Ross Brown, who just graduated from college and decided to spend his first post-graduate summer on the road. After spending a month in Colorado with another buddy and taking part in a group-climbing trip there, he hit the road for California. Ross thru-drove for something like 18 hours and called me every few hours during the drive to break up the monotony. He called around noon to tell me he was in the desert. He called again around 4:00 and said he was still in the desert and when he called at 7:00 there was a certain amount of jittery paranoia in his voice when he announced, “I am STILL in the desert!” The drive out took its toll on him and by the time he got to my place by the beach he REALLY needed someone to talk to. Apparently, Ross can’t spend a lot of time with his own thoughts in the desert; it makes him just a bit loony. It was like finding a marooned sailor on some south sea island: he wanted to talk, go, do, see and drink beer, etc… until well after 3:00 in the morning. I think he may have even been talking to me after I passed out.

Everyone in our group of friends was more than a little jealous of Ross. We all want to spend our summer in the care free rapture of an extended road trip, so I planned to make Ross’s trip to California memorable: a little climbing here, some beer there, a few games of pool, a few nights in a tent under the California sky, more climbing, some spear fishing, hiking, more beer drinking, etc…

I let him catch his breath for a few days before we headed off into the woods. Matt Brauning and I spent last Memorial Day near Big Bear, CA climbing and we had some unfinished business there. In addition to Ross, we teamed up with Monica Thompson to make it two even teams. Monica and I used to climb at the same gym (I won’t mention their name because they owe me money). Although we had never climbed together, I knew her to be a strong climber.

We stayed over at Matt’s house after a night of drinking (we saw Damon and Marlon Wayans – actor/comedians – at a club that night) and I woke him up around 6:30 the next morning as Monica was pulling into the driveway. My truck was in the shop, so the plan was to take my rental car. I had packed Matt’s, mine and Ross’s gear into the trunk the night before and we still had half a trunk worth of room. So, why not take my rental? It would have saved on gas and wear and tear on someone’s vehicle. Wrong! Monica backed in and started unloading a mountain of gear: two milk crates of food & kitchen gear, a medium ice chest, a twin-sized fold up mattress, a large tent, a stand-up-folding chair, etc… It is a sad day when some one packs more gear for a trip than Matt Brauning and Monica succeeded in that and then some. To my credit though, I didn’t make too much fun of her and did try to fit it all in. There was no hope and our plans changed. We backed up Brauning’s Subaru wagon and COMPLETELY filled the back and the small space between the two rear seats. Man, Monica had a bunch of crap!

We were going to stop for food in Tustin, but Brauning said there was a store in Fawnskin (near the climbing area) that we could shop at, so we headed out and talked and napped for the next hour and a half. The “grocery store” in Fawnskin was a convenience store in the loosest sense of the term. What they had was very expensive, there wasn’t much of it and it was owned (or run) by an older lady who was too busy brushing her middle aged, overweight daughters hair to bother with answering any questions we might have had. When it came time for us to pay, I think that she uttered maybe three words and none of them were “thank you.” We ended up with junk food, canned goods, beef jerky and 5 one-gallon jugs of water.

We found the Holcomb Valley Pinnacles Campground easily enough, but as we pulled in, there were cars and groups everywhere. We were a little bummed. Matt and I had this one particular campsite in mind and it was so sweet, we just knew it was occupied. When we were there last year, we had rebuilt the site’s fire pit and wanted to use it again. Besides that, the site was right in the middle of where we wanted to be and we would have been able to eat lunch at camp everyday. It turned out that we were in luck – someone left it unoccupied just for us. After backing in, throwing up the tents and having a snack we headed off into the rocks to play.

We climbed at Motherload Wall that day until 5:30 or so. Ross was feeling strong and we got on some really nice 5.10s and worked a couple of 5.11s just for him. Ross and I teamed up and Brauning and Monica teamed up. Everyone felt good and we alternated ropes and routes throughout the day. Monica didn’t disappoint, as can happen when one climbs with a new member of the group or new partner. She held her own with us and pulled off some crimpy moves on a 5.10 that were impressive. Because we all got an average of three hours of sleep the night before, it was nap-time when we got back into camp that afternoon. I slept until about 7:30 and got up while everyone else was still snoring away. I spent twenty minutes gathering firewood. The fire pit was still in great shape and there is nothing better than a fire at night in the wilderness to sit and talk by. In the area around Big Bear, including Holcomb Valley the fire hazard was pretty high, so normally a fire would be out of the question, but this pit was made of stone and was nestled against a slightly overhanging SUV sized boulder. The fire expels ash and cinders into a curving fist-wide crack in the boulder, so the wind never caries them anywhere. Even if the fire is raging, there is nothing but sand for ten-feet in front of the pit and sand doesn’t burn well. It was the only camping site in the area that I feel safe about having a fire.

I woke up the next morning around 7:00 and made some disgusting dehydrated eggs. Part of the poor taste was because I screwed them up a little, but I think that even if I had prepared them correctly, they would still have been suspect. We milled around camp too long and Monica started looking antsy, like she had to pee badly. Apparently, she wanted to get on the rock early and we boys were making her wait. Matt and Monica got on a route thirty yards from camp that went up an arête and topped out in what looked like a dragon’s mouth. Brauning climbed it “gracefully” and he finished the route sitting in the mouth. It made for an interesting picture… Ross and I got on a 5.11 that should have been Ross’s first 5.11 on-site. He had the route dialed, but hung on the second to last bolt. I really enjoyed the route as well, but the anchors were just a touch out of my reach and my final three feet on route looked like shit. We got on a 5.ll right next to the first route while Monica and Brauning walked by us on their way to a 5.10 in the shade. The second 5.11 REALLY sucked. It was loose, broken, sharp and I climbed it with poor form. I “French-Freed” (grabbed the quickdraws) the last four bolts. Monica and Brauning were having a better time. Monica led a route and Ross and I walked over as Brauning was getting on it. The three routes we did in that area were quality and most importantly were in the shade. We then walked to a wall that Brauning and I had been on during our previous trip to the crag. Monica led a nice 5.9 arête and Brauning and I pulled the rope and each of us led it in turn. Ross was working a 5.11+ next to us that he cussed, hated and flailed on the whole time. He really hated that route.

I left work around 3:15 on Friday armed with a free SuperTopo guide, various route notes from climbing chat rooms and a MapQuest print out of the directions to get us there. I picked up Ross at my place, we did some last minute packing, loaded the rental car (I had it for a total of 9 weeks – my truck was really screwed up), stopped by the grocery store and were on the road before 6:00. About thirty miles from the house, we hit bumper to bumper traffic and sat there, rolling slowly through Los Angeles for the next two hours. Man, I hate traffic and since moving to California, I know what the true definition of that word is. After about 7.5 hours on the road we made it to the south entrance of the park. At some point during the drive I realized that I had forgotten my helmet at the house. I REALLY needed that piece of gear, but we figured that the belayer was the one who needed the helmet the most and we could swap it off when we swapped leads. It was 12:30 as we rolled up to the park entrance and we had to get an early start on the route the next day, so we had to find a place to sleep. Ross suggested back tracking to a National Forrest campground near Fish Camp that we had passed on the way in and try to pirate a spot for the night. I turned the car around and about five minutes later we were pulling into a taken, but empty site. It took exactly 12 minutes from the time we got out of the car until we were laying down, zipped up inside the tent, sleeping for free.

Thanks to the SuperTopo directions, we were at the parking area, had our food stored in the bear lockers and were on the trail to half dome by 7:00 that morning. Everything that I had read said to take at least three liters of water for the hike in and one ol’ boy in a chat room left a posting that a water filter might not be a bad idea. Now, in the past I haven’t listened well to the advise of others and it came back to bite me in the ass. This time I listened and had a full 72oz. Camalbak, two full 32oz. Nalgene bottles and a PUR filter strapped to my back. I am so glad that I listened because we needed every bit of it. The same literature and discussions outlined the gear that we would need and said that any more would be a waste of energy. I didn’t carry my whole rack, but I did carry too much. For future reference one only needs 4 quickdraws, 4-2’ slings, a helmet, a 60m rope, a set of small nuts, sunscreen, sunglasses, nut tool, snacks, shoes, harness, chalk bag, belay device, aforementioned water & filter, a set of Alien cams and a .5 &.75 black Diamond cam. That’s it and that’s all. Ross and I had about 28 pounds of gear and water each and that figure could have been cut by a third if we would have packed right.

The trail to the climb was about 6 miles long total. Most of the way there we shared the trail with groups, families and individuals who were on their way up half Dome via the Cables Route. The first 4 miles is a series of steps and paths that climb past two magnificent roaring waterfalls. We were the only climbers on the trial at that time and everyone we passed (The Brown/Talley Climbing Machine passed just about everyone on the trail up that morning) talked to us about our gear and climbing up “the hard way.” There was an out house about half a mile above Nevada Falls. As I came out, Ross was standing there talking climbing with a group of ladies that had “Ross Lust” in their eyes. I am continually amazed at how his big smile, soft accent, dark complexion and shaved head have women tripping over each other to talk to him.

Just after we hit the John Muir Trail, we turned onto a well marked side trail on the left. We had stopped and talked to a park ranger just before taking the side trail and she mentioned that there were two groups ahead of us, so we took our time and looked at the views that were offered to us. The climber’s trail took us through a low cool valley, weaving us through the trees. It smelled wonderful: a woody, crisp, evergreen scent. The bugs weren’t friendly in the trees, but we kept moving so they left us alone for the most part. As we broke from the trees, we followed a path marked with cairns over a series of low angle, greasy slabs and through a forest of manzanita: a very thick, bushy shrub that was made to catch gear as you walk through it, stopping you and dragging you back into the bush. Hateful things, they are!

We arrived at the base of the climb winded, thirsty and hungry after a three and a half hour walk/climb. There was a group of three on the route already and two guys waiting to get on at the base. It turns out that both groups were from Orange County and climbed at my old gym. We sat down talked a little, had a snack and started to arrange our gear. The group of three barely moved during that time and Ross and I both voiced our concerns about being behind that slow of a group all day. The two guys waiting to climb asked if we moved pretty fast and if we thought we could move past the first group. We answered “Oh, hell yes!” and they VERY graciously let us get on the route before them. Ross had led the first pitch on a fantastic route that we did in Colorado, so I claimed this one. I threw my gear on, flaked the rope, tied in, had Ross check me, made sure he was on belay and RAN up the first forty-five feet of the first pitch. I placed my first piece under a brow and bumped up to the first belay station. Two of the three climbers in the first group were still there, so I set my anchor, in a crack just below them with nuts. Ross ran up the first pitch as well and our gear transition to new leader was very quick. Ross then ran up to the second belay and anchored in. He talked to the first group’s leader, who was more than willing to let us pass. I cleaned the three pieces of gear Ross had set, we swapped lead gear and the helmet in less than a minute and I was at the third belay anchor in a few minutes rigging it to bring Ross up. We rocked past the group of three and after the third pitch we never saw or heard them again.

We hiked nine miles back to the car after the route pretty fast, partly because we didn’t want to be on the trail after dark. Yosemite is still a wild place and the bears come out at night. Bears don’t make me happy. I can think of better ways to go than as bear chow and ending up in bear crap. No thanks! We both had Bear-Bells on and I had a can of bear spray ready to deploy in case of an attack. If the first blast didn’t stop the bear, then my plan was to spray Ross and run like hell. I wouldn’t have to out run the bear, just Ross. Only teasing, RossJ… We stopped about four and a half miles from the car to pump some water from the cold clear Merced River. Our water supply was completely drained, so the inclusion of the filter was sage advice.

The hike down wasn’t exactly friendly but we made it to the rental car and loaded up just before the sun went down completely. The book says the route and hike in and out should take 16 hours, we did it in 13 ¼. There is 4,800’ of elevation gain from the parking lot to the summit of Half Dome and it is a 16 mile round trip. We were sooo stoked! We had dinner and beer at the Ahwahnee Hotel, another superb idea from Ross after saying, “Screw camp food!” We (me especially) had outrageously dirty feet. The skin up to my mid-calf was darker than my Teva sandals. I walked through the lobby and a woman who was probably paying $350 a night to stay there recoiled in horror. We did look sort of scruffy though. The dining room was closed, but two waiters didn’t bat an eye at our appearance and they didn’t hesitate to rustle up up chili, salad and bread and just pilled it on, saying only, “Just get off the rock?” We were so tired, full and grateful for their treatment of us that we left something like a 40% tip. They earned it! After getting stuffed and bloated at supper, we pirated another camp site that night in the valley. Poor Ross was so beat that he was asleep as his head hit the pillow. I stayed up until about 11:00 and made some notes in my journal about our day.

We got up the next morning, packed up yet another free camp site and drove to the visitor’s center, Curry Village and Yosemite Mountaineering for a few souvenirs. While at the Visitors Center, Ross asked about a climbing map or video and the clerk there said, “The Yosemite Park Service doesn’t really endorse climbing because of the damage to the rock. It has just been grandfathered in over the years.” All we could do was stare at this guy. The “damage” that climbers do? I packed out an entire backpack full (bursting at the zippers, full) of trash that day hikers had left on the trail to and from The Cables Route: paper, plastic bottles, a hat, candy rappers, straws, a sock, two different gloves, a plastic bag and various other things were just thrown down on the trail, there is a large rock near the start of The Cables Route that smells like a urinal and had little piles of toilet paper here and there behind it from the decades of day hikers using it as an open air toilet, every year fires are started in the valley by careless wonders, there are thousands of cars in the valley on the weekends, belching emissions into the air and the Park Service’s official stance is that climbers “damage” the rock?! Stupid.

We took a few more pictures of the waterfalls, Half Dome, El Capitan and the entire valley before having lunch and making the uneventful drive back to Orange County, arriving back at my place by 7:30. It was one Hell of a weekend! We walked in the footstep of legendary climbers, naturalists and photographers. Ross and I climber the most prominent peak in a valley of world class routes, saw amazing natural beauty and didn’t end our days as bear kibble.

I put Ross on the train to Grover’s in Klamath Falls, OR a couple of mornings after we got back from Yosemite for a 10 day trip-within-a-trip. He had spent too much time hanging out with Matt Brauning because he packed like a pageant-girl for the trip: 55 pounds of gear… He and Grover climbed and drank beer and Grover schooled Ross playing pool the whole time.

Three days after sending Ross on his way, I flew to Oregon to spend some time with Laurel, who was there visiting her family and friends for part of the summer. This really isn’t the place for telling about the entire trip, but while there I went rafting and had an outstanding time floating down a river in the Pacific Northwest.

I hadn’t met Laurel’s dad up to that point and we were introduced my first morning there. He had arranged a rafting trip down the McKenzie River for us (Me, Laurel, Laurel's mother, and two family friends). I think that it is much easier to get the measure of a man outside than while sitting politely in a living room. I guess that he felt the same way and wanted to know what kind of man his daughter was dating.

We got a little bit of a late start and were on the water by 10:50 that morning. Laurel's dad called me a week before my trip to ask about my white water and paddling experience and seemed to be satisfied with my answers. The river was running at the Class II level and he asked me to steer the boat, which I did fine. We ran through a few rapids without a hitch until 1:20 when we pulled out of the water on a rocky shore and had lunch. Laurel had made the sandwiches that morning and they were delicious! We sat there eating and talking for about 30 minutes before hopping back into the raft. About thirty-minutes down river, I misread some rapids twice. We got the boat stuck in a shallow and a couple of us had to get out and push to free the boat.

I flew home on Sunday afternoon and picked up Ross a couple of days later. He had looked so forward to the train ride there and back because he would be able to catch up on his climbing journal, read and rest up for climbing. That plan didn’t work out quite like he planned. Twenty-four hours each way on a train turned out to be mind numbing for Ross. He was so glad to be off the train when I picked him up that I thought he might do an Irish jig right there on the platform with his great and heavy pack on.

I let Ross heal for a few days after climbing with Grover and riding the Iron Rooster for 24 hours straight. On his last weekend in California I decided to take Ross to the birthplace of the Yosemite Decimal System (YDS), which is the route rating system used by American rock climbers to rate the difficulty of different climbs. The YDS was invented by Don Wilson, Royal Robbins, and Chuck Wilts in 1956, and rated all free climbs on a closed decimal system. Initially it was based on ten climbs in Tahquitz, California, and ran from "The Trough" at 5.0, a relatively modest technical climb, to "The Open Book" at 5.9, considered, at the time, the most difficult unaided climb humanly possible.
Bright and early on a Sunday morning, Ross and I met Monica at Brauning’s house around 7:00. It came as no surprise that we had to roll Brauning out of the bed. He had been out until 3:00 that morning at a concert and had consumed more than a little bit alcohol. He looked so bright and happy to be getting up to go out and play with us! Anyway, we loaded up into Monica’s Pathfinder and made the 2-hour drive in Idyllwild, CA. I had forgotten to fill up my Camelbak and Nalgene bottles before leaving Brauning’s house. Monica knew of a natural spring along the way. We pulled off the road about a half an hour outside of Idyllwild. There were two guys there filling up something like twenty five-gallon water jugs that let me jump in front of them. I was told that the spring runs year round and people from the surrounding communities come and get a week’s worth of drinking water at a time. The water was sweet and clear and cold.

As we were gearing up for the hike in, Monica “mentioned” that it would be a huge pain to leave anything at the base of the route because we would be descending the back side of the crag and it would be best if we carried all of our gear up with us. Ross and I could have used that bit of information somewhat sooner. He had only brought his large pack, which was way too big to haul up the route and I was wearing my clunky hiking boots. If I would have known about not leaving anything, I would have worn my Teva sandals and Ross would have brought a smaller pack. Ross had to stash all his gear in my little crag pack and my boots got in the way the entire time. Note: The key to a good time is SHARING information about the planned trip with your companions.

The hike to the base of the Long Route on Tahquitz is about a 40 minute climb on a dusty trail. The Brown/Talley Climbing Machine was geared up again and Brauning and Monica paired up. Somehow Monica had unloaded all the gear on Brauning and practically ran up the hill with only water and a rope bag while poor Brauning suffered with the weight and heat. At some point during the walk up Ross and I named Brauning’s bandana his “Taint Hat” and for some juvenile reason the fact that he was sweating in it made it that much funnier. When we topped out at the base of the route we all sat down for a breather and Monica said to Brauning, “You should have told me you wanted me to carry something...” He was not amused by her belated offer to help at the top of the hike in. I just couldn’t hold back the “Taint Hat” story anymore. I started it by telling him a similar story as a proverb and then I gave him a very detailed account of where his bandana had been. His initial look was one of disbelief, but after showing him Ross’s video, his gaze turned more homicidal. He then alluded to the fact that I was a lucky man, not climbing with him. He mentioned that he would hate for there to be a tragic rope cutting “accident” while I was on lead, punctuation his tale with a pantomime of his pocket knife cutting a rope. Overall he took the story, video and us teasing him about his “Taint Hat” all day really well. In hindsight, maybe I shouldn’t have taken the liberty... Nah, it was just too damn funny to have passed up!

We had sandwiches and beer for supper at a little place in Idyllwild. During the meal Monica asked me about climbing in Europe and I gave her a brief picture of the areas that I had been to. She had decided that the time was right in her life to cash in and go to Europe indefinitely. She has a flexible job, just ended a relationship, no major bills, no kids, etc..., but we have all talk about doing the very same thing and then decided against it later citing this or that lame excuse. Well not Monica: when she says something, she means it! I got this e-mail from her the week after our trip:

hello all. i'm emailing to inform you that i am in the process of streamlining...selling stuff! i will be having a garage/yard/estate/moving sale at hank’s place next sat. aug. 7th. i've got stuff ranging from kitchen...clothing...shoes...books...art...camping...sports...decorative...and more. please spread the word and stop by! my car is even up for sale!!! asking 10K. in case you're wondering...i'm heading to europe.

While the hike in and out sucked, that climbing was outstanding and everyone there climbed really strong. It was killer to get a chance to get on some classic rock and to climb with Ross on one more long route before he headed back to Arkansas. I plan on going back and doing a couple more routes at Tahquitz and at Suicide Rocks (in the same valley), but it won’t quite be the same without Ross and Brauning’s “Taint Hat.”

On the first weekend that Ross was in California, his brother, Adam, asked me not to “break” him. I bent him a little a couple of times, but he was no worse for the wear. He went home climbing stronger than ever, his alcohol tolerance was up and he was playing a mean game of pool. On his last day in town, I fed Ross lunch, printed off directions for his trip home, walked him to his Blazer, gave him a hug, offered my place to him anytime/anywhere and waved as he pulled off into the afternoon sun on his way home (MapQuest says: 25 hours and 8 min.). I think that he had a good time and he got to climb in some spectacular areas and walk in the footsteps of giants like Yvon Chouinard, Royal Robins, John Long, Jim Bridwell, Steve Roper, Lynn Hill, Warren Harding, John Muir and Ansel Adams. Hopefully, Ross will remember his summer out west for a very long time with great fondness and remember the outrageous times we all had with him: barefoot pool, drunk sprinting, “enlightening” conversations about women, incredible mountain views, how to be a good loser at pool, romance at the climbing gym, yummy scrambled eggs, phone calls from the summits of mountains, helmet tic-tac-toe, hearing about what “Steph would do”, how and when to kill snakes on the road, the vastness of the desert, drinking wine on a train, ladies with bad posture, Monkey Face, the Yosemite Valley, Brauning’s sex life and a million other things. Every single one of us would have gladly either taken his place or tagged along for the entire summer if circumstances would have allowed. I know that I will remember my little part of Ross’s summer trip for the next eight or nine decades and smile every time a piece of it comes back to me.