Blood, Pride, and Marmot S**T-- Part I-- Cathedral Peak (Pride)

Instead, I bushwhacked in the direction I was supposed to be heading, scrambled over the Cathedral massif and headed for a pinnacle I initially mistook as the true summit, enjoyed views of a tarn and cliffs that few probably bother to check out, and eventually wound up where I was supposed to after exerting considerably more effort than I was supposed to. From there, it was fun and mostly quick scrambling to the summit block.

I almost did not finish Cathedral. Guidebooks and route descriptions often overstate difficulties and dangers, but this time was the opposite. The SP route description I used called the final move, only fifteen feet, an easy Class 4 crack, and the remark that some people uncomfortable with the exposure choose to rope up for it had a slight whiff of disdain to it. Well, the crack was easy enough, but the exposure beneath the base of the summit pitch, even the exposure along the ten or so feet leading to the summit pitch, was unnerving and meant no errors. Standing on the ledge below the pitch left just a few inches between me and the edge, and even turning around was scary. The cost of a mistake would have been a few hundred feet of empty air.

Thinking of my son Jack and how he might need a father as he grew up, I left the ledge and climbed a block next to and almost as high as the summit one, and I took pictures of the Echo Peaks and of myself from that spot. I went back to the crack and back to the lower block again, still thinking the true summit just wasn’t worth the risk. Then I started to leave, but my pride nagged at me, so I went back once more. I left my pack behind and stepped back to the ledge and the base of the crack.

Getting up was never my fear; getting down was. Only rarely had I faced in while downclimbing, so my inexperience with that position gave me pause, and I knew facing out was not going to work. Well, I climbed up a few feet and then, facing in, went back down. Then I climbed a little higher, almost to the top, and went down again, testing whether my feet, unaided by my eyes, could both reach and find the two spots key to my safe descent. They could and did.

Finally, convinced I could do it and that I had spent too much time there to quit, I mustered my nerve and climbed to the top, a tiny granite block that holds just two people comfortably. It was quick, easy, and fun. Going down was no problem, either.

In the climbing world, it often works that way, doesn’t it?

So Long, Sierra

It was hard leaving Yosemite. The weather had been perfect all week and the climbing had been great. Routes up Unicorn Peak, Echo Peaks, and Lembert Dome were calling to my eyes, legs, and heart. But it’s always a good idea to leave a little unfinished business in the mountains; never do I want to leave them with the feeling that I’ve done all I want to do there.