The Great Tyrolean Traverse

Our time in Yosemite had been great. Following a few rainy days, we decided to have a “light output” day and give the Lost Arrow Spire a go. Turns out, the hike up to Yosemite Point took just about as much
time as the climb itself.

Let me paint the picture. The walls of the Yosemite Valley are about 3000 feet tall. The Spire pulls away from the wall right at the top,
creating this 200-foot tall rock finger island that towers above it all.

To complete the route, and do the tyrolean traverse back across (traverse through air between two high points), you need three ropes. If your ropes are different thicknesses (like mine) you need to follow the geeky 18-step process below.

Rope A = thickest, Rope B = thinnest, Rope C = medium.

1. Tie the end of rope A to the anchor on the Valley rim (this is the starting point).
2. Rappel down all 200 feet of rope A to the notch between the rim and the spire.
3. Tie the end of rope A to the end of rope B, and the other end of rope B to your harness, which creates a 400 foot leash, connected to the top of the Valley rim.
4. Use rope C to climb/belay like normal. Ropes A and B are being trailed by the climber as you make your way up the Spire.
5. Once on top, pull in the slack of rope B (the leash) to get to rope A. Rope A is now spanning the gap between the rim and the spire.
6. Thread the other end of rope A through the anchor on top of the Spire and tie a tied off truckers hitch on rope A to secure it across the chasm.
7. Climber 1 hooks up a mini-traction to their harness and the rope.
8. Rope B is attached to the climber 1, and put on belay by climber 2.

9. Climber 1 uses a jumar (rope ascender) to pull themselves across, while the mini-traction makes it easy to gain ground (one way cinch) as you go across.

10. Once climber 1 makes it back to valley rim, and are off belay, climber 2 unties the truckers hitch on rope A.
11. Climber 2 ties the end of rope A to the end of rope B and C (B was used to belay climber 1 across).
12. Climber 1 pulls rope B across, which gets the other end of rope A to the valley rim, where climber 1 is.
13. Climber 1 ties the end of rope A to the anchor. Now, both ends of rope A are on the Valley rim side and rope C is spanning the gap as well.
14. Use rope C to shuttle the gear (and camera) back across the chasm.
15. Rope C is then tied to climber 2 and climber 1 puts them on belay with rope C.
16. Climber 2 attaches the mini-traction and pulls himself across the chasm, while being belayed by climber 1
17. Once across, untie one end of rope A from the anchor and pull the other end of the rope, causing the rope to go through the anchor on the Spire and back to the Valley Rim side.
18. Coil all the ropes, high five, walk back down to the Valley floor to celebrate and eat chips and salsa.

All that to say it's pretty involved. There are other ways to do it, but this worked for us. The exposure is amazing. We were there in the fall, so Yosemite Falls was more of a trickle. Regardless, it was beautiful.

That wrapped up our climbing season for 2010. 27 classic climbs completed, we were still married, and even enjoyed one another’s company!

After a winter of working hard in Crested Butte to beef up the bank account we started the 2011 season with a climb of the notorious mudstone tower north of Moab, Utah, called the Titan. 900 feet of crumbly mud up the highest sandstone tower in North America! That’s next…..

Adventure Climbing

We had been climbing for five months straight. After reading countless route descriptions and trip reports for all these climbs we were kinda over it. People spraying about how scary the crux was, or how run-out the 5.7 section is, or the most popular one; how the guidebook was so wrong that the author must be an idiot or something!

On routes that intimidate me I do my homework by making laminated printouts of the description, taking more gear then they call for, and making sure it’s all ready to go the night before the climb. After climbing in Alaska and Canada, Hallett Peak is not intimidating. I don’t write this out of arrogance, but rather to justify our procrastination. The morning of the climb, while driving to Rocky Mountain NP from a friend's house in Ft Collins, I surfed through summitpost.com and mountainproject.com on my Smartphone, hastily looking for last minute route info. That is, until the nauseous feeling took over from looking at that stupid little screen while on a curvy road.

Arriving at the trailhead parking lot we went to work. After doing this numerous times we had the dance down pat. Janelle preps food in the front of the van while I prep gear in the back. Then I take the mostly full packs to Janelle who then tops them off with the food and water. We button up the van, and are off.

I figured we would just take a standard adventure climbing** rack:

-BD cams

-#00-#3, double of #.4-#3

-light set of nuts (approx. 8)

-6 quickdraws

-7 runners w/ a biner each

-3 lockers each

-ATC guide each

-one double length sling each

-one shared “cordellete”

-rescue gear (one prussik, one tibloc, small knife, bail biner)

-shoes, harness, helmet, chalk-bag

-5 pound SLR camera, extra card, charged battery
-headlamps

-Sterling 9.2 rope

-3 liters of water total

**adventure climbing: not knowing what you are getting yourself into due to poor preparation and planning. Hoping that you will have the minerals to pull it off.



We chatted with the rangers, glanced at the map at the trailhead (rounding out our route planning), and headed up the trail towards Bear Lake. The miles passed quickly with light packs and a relatively flat trail. Getting up to the base of the route, it was evident where the rock fall happened a few years ago. It wiped out the bottom two pitches of the climb, which severely downgrades the route's appeal. We roped up to the right (uphill) of the rock fall area. Looking up, there wasn’t a clear line or any visible initiators of previous climbers, at least not visible from the ground. To make matters worse, the clouds to the west were getting darker. Do we stay or do we go? “We have come this far, why not just finish it.” was my thought. Janelle was hesitant, but put me on belay anyway.

I tied in and “adventure climbed” (see above) up the first pitch. One hundred feet off the ground we felt the first drops of rain. Janelle wasn’t into it. Not wanting to be on an unestablished route (in the rain, on the cold shady side of a rock face) she suggested we come back another day. I yelled down, "maybe it'll just blow over." I hate bailing. I hate it more than being wet and cold. But reluctantly, grumpily, I made a quick anchor and rappelled to the ground.

Current Situational Equation: Janelle hates to epic + Mark hates bailing = Mark turns into a spoiled 2nd grader and puts on his grumpy pants and makes Janelle feel like a failure. I really wanted to get the route done that day. “Summit or plummet baby!”

Bailing turned out to be a good call because only an hour after we bailed the thunderstorm unleashed a cold blowing rain. It would have really sucked to be on the face at that time.

My brother was getting married in Indiana and our flight left Denver the next day, so this climb would have to wait. "But what if even more of the route crumbles while we are gone?", I half-jokingly kidded Janelle. The wedding was a great rest from the mountains. Hanging out with friends and family and answering the much-asked question, “Why do you climb mountains anyway?” and “Your videos scare me, you be careful up there!”

One week later, with my brother on his honeymoon and a lot of concerned relatives telling me that we are in their prayers (for which we are thankful), we flew back to Colorado.

Things were going better during round two. We picked up where we left off. After traversing quite a bit to get back on the original route, it was smooth sailing from there. Aside from the fact that Janelle had picked up a yuk-bug in the Hoosier land making her nose a non-stop leaky faucet, and taking her normally superhuman strength down to a mere mortal level. So I was the “rope-gun” for the route (I led every pitch), which was fine as I truly enjoy guiding people up climbs.

Reaching the top of the route allowed us to get the full view of the pervasive forest fire smoke we had been smelling, and even tasting, since returning to Colorado. It was eerie knowing that through all the smoke people were loosing everything they own to the wild fires. “70 homes burnt!” the headlines read. Although I was thrilled to have another route under our belt, it was sobering to think about the people that had lost all their material possessions. It made me think about just how insignificant climbing really is….

…but it is still so freakin’ fun, I can’t wait to get my hands on rock again!