Eventually the heat in Red Rocks began to be a problem; limited to 'Black Velvet Canyon' and other shady options we quickly worked our way through the available quality (of which there is much, 'Dark Shadows' wall offering some particularly fine climbing).
The pre-wedding plan had us returning to Zion for bigger things (learning to Aid 101) with 'Tricks of the Trade' appearing as a worthwhile objective. However, en-route we stopped at a Walmart to reconsider our options. The heat was once again oppressive and climbing would have been grim. We sat in the van sulking and trying to make a new plan... heading North seemed to be the logical choice (guided by Mr. Hudon) and with Yosemite being one of the next places on our map and somewhere we were both pretty psyched for, we quickly made the snap decision to turn around and begin the drive to 'The Valley' (stupidly not thinking to stock up on cheap food in the Walmart before departing!).
A quick stop in Bishop for the Keough Hot Ditch springs and a whistle stop tour of the Mountain Light Gallery (if you like fiddling with cameras then take a look and a read) and we were at the base of Highway 120, also know as the Tioga pass, which winds its way through Tuoulmne Meadows depositing you into Yosemite Valley.
Now, we've both been lucky enough to visit some amazing places throughout Europe and now the US, but I think we'd both agree that Tuolumne in melt is one of the most scenic vistas we've yet encountered. Granite domes sit in grassy meadows with intertwining streams, patches of snow and an utter lack of human development (a stark contrast to what is waiting at the end of the pass). Climbing in early season isn't really possible, but a mental note was made of the better looking domes as we passed through far too quickly.
Yosemite, like much of the US (certainly the majority of wilderness areas) are governed by endless rules, the most annoying of which in 'the Valley' pertain to camping and stay limits. For most climbers this means bending the rules as far as possible at the hallowed dirt camp-ground that is 'Camp 4' but due to another rule (not being allowed to sleep in a vehicle), we had to seek alternative arrangements. The first few days yielded a spot in one of the more prestigious camp-grounds (where the rangers take little issue with you, unlike [reputedly] elsewhere).
Our first day wasn't so successful after failing to find the start of 'Serenity Crack' for some time. Finally finding it (and not the neighbouring 'Royal Arches') to be (say it with me): too hot. A brisk walk (via the Mountain Shop to buy the Supertopo guide and bin the Falcon [N.B. Neil - I didn't actually bin your guidebook but I really ought to]) to Braille Book, just in time for a monstrous storm and a good soaking. It was becoming apparent (not a moment too soon) that despite the accessible nature of Yosemite, this place isn't to be underestimated.
From then on our luck improved and we worked our way through the classic, quality free climbs of Yosemite stopping short of Astroman (one of the few routes to be veto'd by Nat). Sadly, as we were enjoying the final pitches of 'East Buttress' of 'Middle Cathedral', we both heard a large crash and looking over to the huge monolith of 'El Capitan' we could see a large cloud of dust near the upper pitches of the 'Muir Wall'. This was quickly followed by the sound of the Yosemite Search and Rescue (YOSAR) chopper and the meadow beneath seemingly turned from green to yellow in an instant as it filled with rescue workers. The climber was dead and others had come worryingly close. Needless to say, the incident left us both very uneasy given our relative lack of experience in the given (big-wall) territory and we continued working through our objectives, carefully and methodically.
Another incident involving a British climber a week or so later tragically cemented the seriousness of the area once more and struck even closer to home, happening on a route we'd done only a matter of days earlier.
Despite this, classics fell every other day (adopting a 1 day on 1 off strategy)... and then there was Half Dome. Every trip has to have a bogey route and it seems like for this one, the 'Regular NW Face' of 'Half Dome' is going to be it:
Round 1: Memorial Day Weekend - epic fail with a very big (haul) bag after a big walk (we were dissuaded from the shorter 'Death Slabs' approach by tales of total and certain death). Multiple parties in-line and a team of Germans showering down large bits of rock. Descent via the 'Death Slabs', which were less deathy than expected. My haul bag did however try to kill me as both shoulder straps snapped at the edge of a large drop. Thanks Metolius (surely if I can lift it, the straps should hold)!
Clearly our approach was wrong. CLEARLY going fast and light ('light is right' - must be said with Paul Reeve type accent) was the way forward. We purchased a day haul bag and planned for an uncomfortable night on 'Big Sandy' (the bivi ledge atop P17 [out of 26]). It'd been baking hot on the valley floor and thus we opted to take every layer we owned, a survival bag but not sleeping bags (face palm anyone?).
Round 2: Approach via the 'Death Slabs' (later that day the lines snapped on a poor victim, letting him slide back down to a gulley, no doubt with a very sore ass). As the sun started to dip, so did the temperatures, and fast (at this point it was clear the hot spell had ended). The five or so layers, survival bag and rucksack around the lower legs didn't prove sufficient and we settled in for a night of abject misery, shivering in a condensing bag of self pity, listening to the wailing sound of rock-fall from the North-West face (I hate loose rock and this sound, first truly encountered in the Dolomites is haunting). At 5AM we awoke and stumbled over to our flaked out ropes beneath P1. At this point we were both whispering to avoid waking up the 'double in a day' team ('Nose' and 'Regular NW Face') from their comfortable nights sleep in comfy looking bags. A faint whistle picked up before I broke our whispering and Nat and I found ourselves once again pinned to the wall waiting for the missile to strike, which it did, frighteningly close to where we were cowering. Tears from Nat cemented the sensible decision that this just isn't the route for us.
Later that day a team dislodged a block described on Supertopo as 'a fridge' (American or regular?) in the upper chimney pitches. It cut their rope and they had a very narrow and lucky escape (without injury). However, vindication still felt like defeat on the valley floor.
The list of free-routes was quickly running out, leaving only large objectives (and some serious learning).
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