TR: Split Pinnacle
Dingus Milktoast
I needed a break, the increased fees really got stuck in my
craw and well, um, let's face it, all these reasons suck for
someone who lives within easy driving distance of the
Valley. But I always found a reason to be somewhere else;
the high country, the east side, whatever.
I hooked up with my back country crew; Burl and Angus, for a
day in the sunshine. We met at Yosemite Junction and agreed
to meet again at the Cathedrals parking area. We had no idea
what we were going to do, but the 3 proposals for the day
were the East Butt (too late I maintained, the sun was
already up), the Central Pillar (too late, Burl said), or
the Split Pinnacle (but who will lead the first pitch we all
silently wondered as my two earstwhile partners looked at me
with scheming eyes).
The parking area had about 10 cars in it... that ruled out
probably every climb we had a hankering and willingness to
do in the gully area; Braille Book, Reg. of Higher Spire, E.
Butt and C Pillar, multiple parties on each. Angus delcared
we'd have Split Pinnacle to ourselves and before we knew it
we were parked at the Lower Brother pullout, gearing up.
Gearing up between 3 trusted, experienced and well equiped
(the racks... the climbing gear, you dirty, dirty people!)
partners is an exercise in minimal communication and
absolute confidence. We have all done this route before.
Angus: "I'll build the rack. Dingus, give me those Offsets!"
(They ALWAYS want my Offsets. Just in case you didn't
know... OFFSETS RULE THE WASTELAND!). "Burl, bring those big
cams." (Burl has a nearly new rack of single stem Camelots
to 4.5... yummy).
Burl: "Dingus, did you bring that number 5?"
Dingus: "Nooooo! I didn't bring knee pads either." Each of
us brings about 5 slings or draws and a screamer. I bring a
couple of tied double length runners.
We hike up the gully and reach the base of the climb.
Peering up into the chimney, it occurs to me (for the 10th
time that morning) that I haven't led this bloody pitch.
Chink. The decision, to face the fear, is silently made. I
can hear Burl and Angus whispering and laughing and feel
them pointing at me, they are conspiring to get me to lead
this thing. Fuck those guys, I'll head them off at the pass.
Dingus: "The first pitch is mine! But you have to make me a
promise. If I die, you guys have to take care of my family
and give me a proper climbers send-off. No polite little
wakes or church services. Nope. You have to steal my body
from the funeral home, take me out to some remote cliff,
build a pyre on top and burn my ass to a cinder. Drink some
beer for me while you're at it. Get Bill, he can help for
sure (Bill is a hardman friend of ours, 5.11+ trad, 5.12+
sport, A4+ walls, and a funeral director to boot!).
Burl: "You want these big cams?"
Dingus: "No. They're not big enough (why didn't I bring the
number 5 and my kneepads?)."
I gear up automatically. All the little steps required to
lead the first pitch force me to focus on tasks instead of
my fear. And what's the big deal afterall? It's only a
measly 5.8.
A 5.8 squeeze to bombbay chimney, that is... in Yosemite,
put up a long time ago, by hard men with hard soled shoes,
hard men named Chuck Pratt and Krehe Ritter, way back before
even I was born, in 1958 for crimeny's sake. Oh momma! What
have I done? I, me, Dingus Milktoast, am going to lead a
Chuck Pratt chimney? What the Hell is wrong with me?
Ahem. Back to the story.
I'm geared up. The 200' rope is flaked out. Harness buckled,
knots tight, double checked. Rack out of the way, off to the
side. Shouldn't my stomach be fluttering? Shouldn't I be
nervous? Well, I am, but I feel none of it. I'm outwardly
calm and ready to go. This is what leading is all about...
pretending you're up to some monumental task even though the
"Little Children of Doubt" are all whimpering in the back of
your mind that you're about to die.
Oh no, you're not going to get a blow by blow of the first
pitch of Split Pinnacle. Having led it I'm not about to
lessen your experience should you aspire to do the same. I
will give you a taste though.
The so-called 5.8 part, a 2 inch splitter hand crack to gain
the chimney, is a joy; solid, secure hand jams. No worries.
The rest is easy, right?
As I get into the chimney proper, maybe 20 - 30 feet up, I
call down to Burl:
Dingus: "Burl, I need those cams afterall." Smirking the
whole time, Burl ties the pieces to the lead rope and
scambles up a few feet to unclip my first piece. I pull up
the rope. The cams come up underneath my second and now only
piece and I am just able to reach down and bring them in at
the limit of the long sling attached. Looking up and
suitably armored with a 4 and a 4.5 camelot (clipped to the
outside of my harness), I take a breather as the belay is
reestablished
The squeeze is probably 5.8; it certainly felt that way for
me. Last time I climbed this thing, the time I followed Burl
up this pitch, I climbed the squeeze way out near the
opening, where it's slightly wider and slightly easier. Only
problem is there is no hope of protection out there. I
burrow in the middle ground, close enough to the back to
squirm in and get a piece in occasionally, far enough out
that I can actually move. I take it back, the way I did it
is probably 5.9. Bragging over poor technique and a lack of
cajones by upgrading a 40 year old route's rating... now
that's trad climbing!
Higher up the chimney goes to bombbay proportions. Back and
feet, very cool. There is yet another 5.8 section through
here. I think.
The only consolation I can offer is that the chimney, unlike
most chimneys in the Valley, is well protected. I mean
that... I used every sling and much of the cams on the rack.
Kept is sane, kept my lid from melting down. A couple of
mandatory runnouts (it IS a chimney after all), but even
those are moderate by "normal" standards.
Burl got lost on the 2nd pitch (hey, it's only the 3rd time
he's done the route, what do you expect?). Angus led a 5.9
ugly, lichen encoated corner to get us back on line with the
route. I led the very nice 4th... 5.8 crack on a slab;
fingers and hands. This leads to the notch behind the
pinnacle itself.
We came up here with the tantalizing knowledge that Angus
agreed to lead the wild-ass 10c lieback alternate summit
pitch. This crack is reached by climbing up onto a big
ledge, then going out to the end of the ledge, the stepping
out over a 500'+ drop into the void, then reaching the
crack, an overhanging, underclimging/lieback exercise on
flakey granite... madness in other words. Angus has led this
pitch before, the nut.
He wisely declines to lead it again instead opts for the A1
original line. This is simply 5 aid moves off the same big
ledge using 3 fixed pins and 2 cams to easy scrambling to
the summit. I clean the pitch by climbing from sling to
sling (we built the aiders out of slings and left them
clipped to each piece, like a big, moving rope ladder), then
reaching back down to clean the piece 2 below me. This pitch
is overhanging, so while the aid is trivial, pulling up to
each piece is kind of physical.
The summit is the reason we do these things to ourselves.
Barely enough room for 3, the anchor consists of a scraggly
pine tree backed up by a nasty cam. The views are amazing.
This is an honest to god pinnacle; 360 degree panorama,
sheer drop offs on all sides, wind blowing.
Not a soul to be seen all day.
We rap the, um, south side of the pinnacle in 3 increments
to the ground. Much better than walking down the north side;
MUCH BETTER! At the 2nd rap station Burl recognizes a sling
Angus left there 5 years before; it's still on the top of
the sling pile tied to the rap tree! We all agree this
classic route doesn't see much traffic. The perfect route
for us old dogs. We didn't want to socialize anyway!
Split Pinnacle, 5.8, III.
6 pitches (when done correctly!). Chimneys, squeezes,
bombbay, hand cracks, finger cracks, overhanging A1 in space
at the top, route finding challenges over the middle part of
the route.
Recommended rack - micro cams to 4.5, one of each in
between, favors cams over nuts. 12 - 15 slings, plus at
least 3 tie-able slings for rap anchors (plan on adding one
sling to each anchor). You don't need a number 5 and you DO
need kneepads (and elbow pads too).
I highly reommend the route. Enjoy!
DMT
Rbw1966
rob
Dingus Milktoast
> Split Pinnacle, 5.8, III.
Corrections:
Split Pinnacle, III, 5.8, A1
4 raps down the south side, not 3.
The brain is a terrible thing to have, I mean, a life wasted is
terrible, I mean, potatoe!
H.J. (Jim) Leininger,E50A
> I hadn't been to the Valley in a while... I highly reommend the route.
> Enjoy!
>
> DMT
Great TR, Dingus. Sounds like a nice climb, have to add it to my
"wish list" of future routes to look at in the Vallry...
Karl Lew
the experienced ones have their moments of doubt on a 5.8.
--Karl "still terrified"
John Byrnes
> It's great to know that even
> the experienced ones have their moments of doubt on a 5.8.
>
The Harding Slot, 5.8. Doubt? Naw, sheer f*cking panic.
- Lord Slime
Karl Baba
suffering at a moderate grade.
Karl
http://extra.newsguy.com/~climbing
In article <3755473B...@fake.fc.hp.com>, John Byrnes
<byr...@fake.fc.hp.com> wrote:
--
Yosemite Area Guiding (remove NOSPAM from the return address)
John Byrnes
> <byr...@fake.fc.hp.com> wrote:
> > Karl Lew wrote:
> > > It's great to know that even
> > > the experienced ones have their moments of doubt on a 5.8.
> > >
> > The Harding Slot, 5.8. Doubt? Naw, sheer f*cking panic.
> >
>
> Read my new "Wild Thing" trip report if you want to hear about somebody
> suffering at a moderate grade.
I did. The part about scraping your nose reminded me that
when it's that tight you can't breathe either, and then the
adrenaline surge started...
- Lord Slime, Happy B-Day Karl!
Brutus of Wyde
> The Harding Slot, 5.8. Doubt? Naw, sheer f*cking panic.
[Nodding]
Good thing, too.
You scraped right up it when your screaming
emptied the lungs enough.
Brutus
[the Narrows on Steck-Salathe' is
feeling tighter these days]
Karl Baba
<byr...@fake.fc.hp.com> wrote:
Thanks, I also bruised the bottom of my ribs (like an idiot!0
Karl
http://extra.newsguy.com/~climbing/
John Byrnes
>> Thanks, I also bruised the bottom of my ribs (like an idiot!
I bruised my chest on both sides of the sternum and both
hips. Ouch.
- Lord Slime, sore nipples
Inez Drixelius
(Brutus of Wyde) wrote:
> > John Byrnes writes:
> > The Harding Slot, 5.8. Doubt? Naw, sheer f*cking panic.
>
>
> [Nodding]
>
> Good thing, too.
> You scraped right up it when your screaming
> emptied the lungs enough.
>
Not to mention his poor little nipples being all bruised....
--
Inez Drixelius
Berkeley, California
Vicki Portman
Inez Drixelius wrote
>> > John Byrnes writes:
>> > The Harding Slot, 5.8. Doubt? Naw, sheer f*cking panic.
>>
>>
>> [Nodding]
>>
>> Good thing, too.
>> You scraped right up it when your screaming
>> emptied the lungs enough.
>>
Sounds like an epic tale....
>
>Not to mention his poor little nipples being all bruised....
Pah! Men! They should try breast-feeding for training - that'd stop 'em
whingeing about *bruised* nipples!
Vicki
Karl Baba
start working unexpectedly
Karl
In article <7j7qv3$rj9$1...@news7.svr.pol.co.uk>, "Vicki Portman"
<vpor...@uptails.REMOVETHISfreeserve.co.uk> wrote:
> Pah! Men! They should try breast-feeding for training - that'd stop 'em
> whingeing about *bruised* nipples!
>
> Vicki
--
Inez Drixelius
<gu...@NOSPAMnewsguy.com> wrote:
> We are usually game to try breast-feeding, but get nervous if they
> start working unexpectedly
>
> Karl
>
Uhhh, gross!!!