Moratorium

MORATORIUM 27 SEPTEMBER 1992 Rich Travis and I head up the steep talus east of Schultz's Ridge in blistering morning sunlight. Late start, nerves, I retch and stumble up the talus. Oak canyon-scrub claws at my clothing, salt stinging my scratches. Teetering unstable blocks underfoot threaten to break an ankle of the unwary with eyes not on the path ahead, but drawn upcanyon, to the immense dihedral, outrageous angle, sustained overhanging corner we dream of climbing. Two pitches of 5.10d followed by a 5.11b crux: My thoughts jitter and jamble, flit from pro to sweat to loose rock to the shining, sunny and sometimes storm- drenched path of the past 20 years which has finally brought me to this canyon, bowels aflutter, rack of friends, competent partner, trying to focus, put my fears away and find a calm center to address the task at hand. I briefly reflect on the upper, Grade IV 5.10b finish to this climb, the East Buttress of El Capitan, my first wall in the valley, an epic adventure, which looms above the last belay of Moratorium. Someday, maybe, I will link the two. When I am ready. When I am calm. Closer now, the incredible corner is so steep that we must stop and crane our necks to look up to where the blinding sun flashes off granite, where cool pre- afternoon shade begins to creep into this magnificent, terrifying, unbelievable dihedral. Where I will, at long last, confront my fears and hopes balanced at the crux of an overhanging flared corner severed by a crack too thin to accept fingertips. At a narrow, dirty, brushy ledge sloping toward the beckoning void, we stop to put on harnesses and shoes, familiar rituals comforting. "Guess I've run out of excuses."