The Leaning Tower

Not everything can be learnt from a book and despite trying before leaving the UK, Nat and I were far from competent big wall or aid climbers. The most common wall used for learning to aid in Yosemite valley is the 'S. Face' of 'Washington Column', but given its (relatively) shallow angle, and extreme popularity, I was far from keen. After that the only 'sensible' option is the 'West Face' of the 'Leaning Tower', which we picked for our inauguration into the realm of BIG.

As you might of gathered from our numerous previous posts, this was unlikely to go perfectly to plan. Walking in on attempt 1 we found gear littered underneath the steep tower, amongst it a shoe (singular) that clearly belonged to a member of the Italian team shedding gear from high up on the wall. Nervously we walked a little quicker in case they accidentally dropped their haul bag to go with the shoe. Rain had delayed our start and really we ought to have amended our plan.

The route starts with an exposed scramble to the base following a fixed line (which we were both glad to see). Navigating the tricky section, a step around a corner (trivial in most cases), the pig started living up to its name. We began the initial bolt ladders and, simply put, took an age. With the light fading and having made insufficient progress (classic jummaring proving a tough ask for Nat in the steep terrain) we bailed, the light disappearing long before we were back to the initial ledge. Abseiling with a pig on terrain this steep was far from easy.

Attempt 2 was short lived. The haul bag was packed and the ritual evening-before Pizza consumed, yet the heat wasn't subsiding. We sat around until 9pm convinced that fading light would mean fading heat. It didn't (we bailed to Tuolumne for the following day).

Attempt 3, this time armed with a 2:1 jummaring rig for Nat, we made better time up the initial pitches and made it to the generously sized Ahwahnee ledge as the sun swooped around onto the West face. Having spent the morning ascending fixed lines, hauling loads far greater than my meagre 55kg frame could hope to manage and pulling on gear amidst a mess of haul lines, daisy chains, fifi hooks and other things I could barely identify only a month earlier, the subject of much hate ("Oinky, the greedy blue pig") hung beside me, anchored twice to the cluster(f*ck) that was my belay and the 2:1 hauling set-up that reputedly "sung like a canary" when it was working well. To me the demented motion of standing up, pushing down and pulling through slack rope felt unnatural and seemingly the set-up "sung" as well as myself (not very well at all).

I think everyone reading this blog is as surprised as I am to be reading (or in my case writing) a blog about a big wall (nay, aid route!) such as this. We've all looked through the old On the Edge (OTE) magazines, seeing the Huber brothers toting garish Lycra on the sun-drenched granite walls of Yosemite Valley and thought WOW. The sheer scale of the walls dwarf anything of European interest and plant that seed of for "one day". That said, the magazines don't convey the sheer work involved to simply 'exist' in such terrain, let alone 'perform' as the Bavarian duo clearly do.

Stepping off Ahwahnee ledge for the crux of the route; a rising diagonal traverse line reached firstly by a short pendulum, a thin seam proved a tricky start until I was sat on a tied-off sling on a rounded horn contemplating the next moves. The seam was now very thin, clearly wouldn't take a nut and my double zero cams were back at the start of the pitch, far out of reach, the only remaining option being a 'cam hook'. Now, I wasn't aware of the 'cam hook' until looking into this type of climbing. Basically it's a curved piece of iron which offers a thin blade to sit in a seam and either cam downwards (for placements underneath a roof), or sideways (in a vertical or semi-vertical slot). The former was applicable here and I fiddled the simplistic device into position and clipped my right daisy and ladder into it. Given the nature of 'cam hooks' they only work under load so can't be bounce tested, nor can they be relied on for protection (they simply fall out when un-weighted).

Gingerly I transferred my weight over and the less than bomber looking piece flexed a little but stayed put. The next move was once again only suitable for cam hooks and my second (and last) hook was placed and once again my weight shifted upon it. It held as I ratcheted up using my adjustable fifi, reaching a stuck offset nut which offered great relief. But only for a brief moment as I was soon stood up high on our only skyhook (A BD grapple) which (thankfully) led to better gear.

Aid climbing might seem to many in the UK as the realm of perverts, enjoyed only by the likes of Andy 'savour an epic' Kirkpatrick (who was currently resident in the valley), boring and lacking skill. However, they (or you) would be wrong. Aid is a definite skill and boils down to a lot more than simply being able to sink in a cam or nut at the appropriate place. Maybe it isn't for everyone, but don't discount it.

Well there we were, still on our Honeymoon, sat on Ahwahnee ledge. The light quickly fading to a view of the stars above, partially obliterated by the overhanging head-wall, tomorrow's challenge, above. Our fixed lines draped up into the darkness. We both fell into a deep slumber earned through much toil and an insufficient intake of calories found only during this type of climbing.

The morning after and the shade of the West face offered a new light to the situation. Progress was rapid ascending the fixed lines from the previous evening. With every step up the previously awkward etriers efficiency increased and the outrageousness of the terrain appeared to justify the constant toil for upward progress. Belays no longer looked like a mess of rope-spaghetti and began to take on some form of organisation; From left to right, myself, the hauling rig and finally the fixed line for my second (although every now and again I expected to catch her getting a lift on top of the pig).

The previously cursed 2:1 pulley system began to sing as the motion became more and more intuitive (partially helped by a small stance on which to haul from and the ever lightening bags), accelerating "oinky" upwards and with him, food, water and progress towards the ever closing summit.

The 'in a day' (IAD) party that had sped up to us as we barely finished breakfast was nowhere to be seen  below us proving our conclusion that actually, we were doing quite well (having to not only climb and clean, but haul as well). One might even use the word 'efficient'.

At 3pm we topped out amidst a strange mix of emotions. Had the toil been worth it? Well, we had enough food (and plenty of water) to savour another night on the spacious summit ledge where a previous ascentionist had kindly left his overstock of beer, which we gratefully enjoyed before falling into a deep slumber with only the awkward descent (with still big bags) to complete the next day.