Yosemite…Need I Say More?
By: Beth Rodden
I did just want to write: “Yosemite. Enough said. Enjoy your climbing!” Need I say more??
But, maybe I should delve into that a little further. However, I can think of a very long list of people who would understand and agree that Yosemite IS the best place for climbing. For those of you who have not been, but have had the privilege of seeing the quintessential pictures of the majestic Valley; let me just say- it’s exponentially better in person.
My first trip to Yosemite that I can remember with any clarity was in the ninth grade. My Junior High School signed up for a week with the Yosemite Institute. I had only started climbing a few months before and was utterly hooked on the sport. I practically lived at my local climbing gym, and aside from any homework I had, all my reading and learning was about climbing; the who’s who of climbing, and various destinations of climbing.
I had apparently been to Yosemite as a child a few times, but I can only remember a few scarce things about those visits, mainly the bears in the campgrounds breaking into cars for food. But as a ninth grader and a newbie to the sport of climbing, the weeklong trip in December of 1994 changed my life. I did absolutely no climbing during my six days in Yosemite, the majority of the trip was spent hiking and learning about nature, biodiversity, and scat. But as soon as I returned to the flatlands of my hometown of Davis, my main goal in climbing was to climb El Cap… little did I know it would take me five years to go back.
Yosemite has a culture of climbers. It captivates most climbers the way it captivated me, and the more time you spend there, the more time you forget that any other place exists. One of the most incredible things about Yosemite is that it offers so many different types of climbing, all at the world-class level: Aid climbing, big wall free climbing, cragging, and bouldering.
For the first eight years of my climbing time spent in Yosemite, I focused on crack climbing, on walls and at crags. I lived out of a van with my main climbing partner and husband at the time, Tommy Caldwell. We would spend two or three months in the spring and fall living one of the most simple and pleasurable lifestyle’s I can imagine: climb during the day, return to the van spent, hungry and tired, and repeat the next day. There has always been one constant in my life, no matter where I am, who I am with, or what I am doing; I love a huge day of climbing and exercise. In fact, if I haven’t exercised for a while, I tend to get irritable and grumpy.
The first time I ever did Astroman, I had just spend a week at my parents house in Davis, eating way too many burritos and cookies. I wasn’t in very good shape, but I knew that I wanted to expend a ton of energy the next day, so I talked Tommy into climbing it with me the next day. (And when I said ‘talked Tommy into it’ that is comparable to ‘talking’ a kid into eating a second bowl of ice cream.)
The alarm went off at 4:30am. It was a weekend in mid May, the route was bound to be crowded, and we wanted to get a jump on the crowds. Our packs were all packed, the rack was in order, all we needed to do was drive the thirty minutes into the Park, park at the Ahwahnee, and hike to the base. I still had my sport climber legs back then, so the seemingly mellow thirty minute hike felt like a trek. Standing at the base, I stared up and my eyes narrowed in on the infamous Harding Slot. I had heard horror stories about this pitch ranging from Leo Houlding vomiting inside of it to Jorge Visser lie backing the outside of it. Obviously I didn’t think my diminutive size would make it difficult, but my serious lack of wide crack climbing or chimney skill left serious doubt at the forefront of my mind.
After the first pitch or so, we finally got into the gem of the climbing. The impeccable Yosemite granite, the views of the Valley and Half Dome behind, and the physical nature of Valley climbing put a smile on my face, I loved it. This is exactly what I had been craving. Tommy climbed through the Harding Slot with relative ease. And anyone who didn’t know him would probably guess that it was a simple 5.6 chimney pitch, but I knew better, and the one or two deep breaths that he took during the pitch, sent a wave of fear through me; it must be hard.
I unclipped from the belay and started climbing. After a mere few feet I found myself stuck, perplexed on how to pull into the slot. A few more grunts, groans, and all out body flailing, I fell. This continued for about ten minutes. Finally I pulled on the cam at the base of the slot and heaved my body into the wedge of granite.
‘Crap,’ I thought, ‘Why did I want to do this?’ I stared up at the sliver of blue sky that awaited me at the top of the chimney. I had involuntarily elected to look towards the inside of the crack, not knowing that turning my head inside the chimney would be a chore. Describing what it is like inside a squeeze chimney leaves little to be desired for that type of climbing. You basically feel like a beached wale, using every part of your body to generate upward movement. I am sure there is a good technique that any veteran valley climber could share but unfortunately I am not that person.
I don’t know how I got to the anchor that day or any other day I have climbed the route, but I do know there was plenty of pulling on the rope and to this day I have never redpointed that pitch. It stymies me, like most wide climbing does. But little did I know there was more wide climbing to come. A few more pitches of 4” cracks, mixed with some boulder problems and tricky face climbing, put us on top of Washington’s Column. I could barely lift my arms above my head, my shoulders were beyond tired, and my hands felt like I had been in a boxing match. I seriously considered at that moment lobbying the Park service for a gondola to be installed on top of the Column so I wouldn’t have to hike down.
I haven’t climbed Astroman in several years, but it is one of hundreds of amazing climbs located in Yosemite. From 5.6 to 5.14 and from ten-foot tall boulder problems to three thousand foot routes, there is something for everyone in Yosemite. In the past year or two I have been juggling injuries, which has lead me to boulder more.
Some things to remember about the Valley when you come:
It’s not a hero crag. Some of the grades are old school and stiff; prepare to be humbled. It is a daily thing for me. Bears are very prevalent; please follow all guidelines to proper food storage. We are guests in their environment.
Convenient places to stay are few and far between. Camp 4 is the classic, iconic campground everyone has heard about. It is first come first serve, and in the high season they are very strict about two week maximum, which makes it very difficult for climbers wanting to stay for a long trip. But I believe in the off season it is a lot easier. There are other campgrounds and hotels (Upper Pines, Lower Pines, North Pines, Yosemite Lodge, etc.) but they tend to book up for most of the year the first day or two reservations become available. Driving out of the Park is always an option if you have a car to sleep in, but make sure you do it on legal Forest Service roads.
The best months for route climbing are May, June, September and October. The shoulders of the months will start to get into less certain weather. For bouldering, the weather is a little harder. Unlike most western American bouldering areas, Yosemite is not in the desert. October and beginning of November can be good, but you can also get rained out. And when it rains, it can rain for a while. The same is said for the spring. I think this is why most people opt for Bishop, much more certain for better weather
.
The Valley has a small grocery store, but it is best to stock up before you get to the Valley. Oakhurst is the best bet on Highway 41, Mariposa on Highway 140, and Oakdale on Highway 120. For those of you who like organic options, the bay area or Sacramento or Fresno are your best bets, but they are a trek.
If you come wanting to do long routes, definitely bring your TC Pros, these shoes were designed with Yosemite in mind, and they are absolutely amazing. For shorter cragging routes, the Miuras are my go to shoes as they can fit into tiny finger cracks or edge perfectly on the Yosemite granite. And if you come with bouldering in mind, definitely add the Solutions to your bag.
Most of all have fun. I know if I were left to my own accord, I would happily spend 365 days per year here. Barring another string of injuries that leaves me in recovery mode, you’ll probably see me in my silver Tacoma with a shy brown dog in the back.
