Lurking Fear: The Finale

It'd be nice to write a romantic finish to this saga but alas, we've been home long enough for you all to know the truth.

Back at the base of Lurking fear with tired legs (but with replacement water), we prepared to sleep. the last time we'd do so on solid ground for a couple of days. Yet Yosemite valley had one more thing to throw at us, the smoke.

The Tioga pass was burning and someone had laughingly remarked that usually even a small fire on the valley rim causes horrific air quality in the valley most years, but not this year. Well, the wind had changed and it started snowing, although the white flecks that fell weren't so much snow but instead ash. Huge flecks of ash and thick smoke filled the air. 

We went to sleep setting the alarm for 5am (first light).

When we awoke there were no signs of daybreak, the smoke filling the valley was shrouding what little light you'd expect at sunrise. Instead we set the alarm back one more hour. Again we awoke and it was still pitch black. Ash still fell from the sky and everything from the trees to our sleeping bags were covered in a thin film of dust.

Things started getting lighter (barely) an hour or so later and I began jummarring up the first of our lines distinctly unhappy. Visibility was poor and the air had a horrible acrid taste. I stopped every few movements and voiced my concerns to Nat, this wasn't pleasant and it wasn't going to get better. She, convinced that we'd be happy once we re-gained our high point put a positive spin on things and I pushed on for a few more moves before voicing my concerns again.

The day was generally grim. I was unhappy, the last of the enjoyment of the route being removed by yet another set-back and despite making excellent time to our high-point and then one pitch more, that fact wasn't changing. I'd reached the point of mental exhaustion and had zero will to climb let alone suffer.

Unlike before, at this anchor we had three bolts at our disposal allowing for a much neater asymmetric hang of the ledge (no dropped pole this time) and the bag within reach (it's amazing what you learn). Excellent. It was 4 pm and the sun had only just broken through the smoke one hour earlier so we took the time to enjoy our ledge.

This short glimmer of optimism didn't last long. Nat had been convinced that reaching our high-point would change my mind on the route but as the sun started to set, the smoke returned in force and so too did my bad mood. I went to sleep but not before telling Nat that she needed to force me to climb the next pitch in the morning. Once the traverse was done retreat would involve a lot of hassle and we'd likely just keep going upward.

During the night it rained. We considered putting up the outer fly but as this involved basically unclipping the entire ledge we both thought better of it, instead, rolling over and willing it to stop.

In the morning we awoke to yet more smoke and I finally cracked, laying out my honest feelings about the route and how much I was hating this experience. I can still remember the feeling now, simply put I didn't want to be anywhere near Yosemite, it was time to leave. Many of the first ascent stories in the guidebook tell of partners both keeping similar thoughts to themselves instead of sharing it with their partner for fear of looking weak but that's somewhat harder to do when you're climbing as a married couple and can tell by the way one person opens a power bar!

Back at the base of the route we agreed our next holiday (Morocco it turns out) wouldn't involve ropes, or climbing. Nat was crushed and I felt a strange mix of relief and anger.

Climbing for this trip pretty much ended here. Yosemite continued to burn until most of the entrance roads were closed and Colorado (our departure airport) flooded. 

We spent the remainder of our time in Vegas / Zion hoping for the bad weather to pass but it never did (and when it did the National Parks all closed for the Government shut-down). Instead we concentrated on enjoying a few more touristy sights, the Hoover Dam, Bryce Canyon and The Virgin Narrows slot canyon.

Two days before we were due to fly home we sold our van to a band  (Cold River City) from Boulder, CO intent on touring across the West coast.

...and that was that.

Lurking Fear: Round 2

Or was it (too hot)?

Having ditched everything except bear-bait at the base of the route we'd stumbled our way back down to the bridge. Erik (his ever cheery self) quickly informed us that we'd had terrible luck, the last day was scorching and far in excess of the temperatures we'd experienced only a few days earlier whilst sat gazing upwards.

We pondered this information whilst once again enjoying the chilled water of the Merced river, El Cap looming above (as ever).

A day or so more passed before it was decided that the indignity of walking back to the haul bags to simply fight them back to the valley floor was too much. Instead, we'd go up and re-fix (noting that we were idiots for NOT leaving the ropes fixed to P3) to get a feel for just how hot it really was. Yes, this is all sounding very familiar and very predictable.

Frustrations started showing through almost immediately and the playlist on my iPod had turned a distinct corner to music that can only be described as 'angry', yet we persisted. It certainly was hot but this time we made it to the base of the route with half of our water and promptly began re-fixing.

Things went to plan. In fact, given we both knew what was required (placements, ropework etc.) we made incredible time through the first three pitches and soon we were fixing our ropes back to the ground. We returned to the valley floor for a well earned rest, intent on eating our own bodyweight in pizza before we'd head up late one evening, bivi, then blast (all to beat the sun)!

Late evening, a few days later, we loaded the remainder of the water and all of the food (mostly pizza) into the smaller bags and started the oh-so-familiar walk for (hopefully) the final time. The light faded rapidly and we found ourself at the base of the route getting ready to sleep well after dark.

I don't know what caused it but for some reason I had the strong desire to check our ropes and bags were still OK, I didn't want any delays in the morning. What I saw left me destroyed; one empty gallon jug of water was hung from a limp branch. On it was a piece of finger tape reading "you've been beared, next time store your food properly - smiley bear face". I shouted down to Nat and she came to have a look herself. The anguish was palpable, ~50 litres of water had been ditched as a punishment for leaving our haul bags on the floor. WTF!

Nat cried and I was done (I spent a good while kicking the haul bag to make that point). The whole of Yosemite valley heard our frustrations.

A while passed before Nat (still in floods of tears) presented her plan, we'd load the food and water into one haul bag, jug and haul in the dark before descending to the valley floor for more water and knocking our start day back until the following day. This wasn't perfect, bad weather was heading into the valley and the effectiveness of our rest day was completely scrubbed (the haul bags would be a mess too), but it's better than being beaten by a Ranger, or over-zealous Yosemite-climber-type (and we really didn't have a choice with our flight date creeping up on us).

I jugged the first full rope length and began hauling. One thing I will say is that anger makes hauling fast (and therapeutic), I could even go 1:1.

We stumbled back to the bridge and happened upon a gathering of familiar, friendly faces a welcome end to the day.