This is another trip almost a year in planning. Also another example of how life gets in the way of things. We all had some mishaps prior to this trip some worse than others. A torn labarum requiring surgery and a lengthy rehabilitation, a broken wrist requiring a cast, and a case of elbow tendonitis. All problematic yet fortunately mostly all patched up prior to the trip. A summer trip became out of the question due to the injuries, so fall was the earliest time we could shoot for. Zion seemed the best choice at the time. We aren’t crackerjack free climbers, nor are we aid specialists, so we had to journey into a Zion that few venture into; Alpine Zion. Peaks, ridges, steep, loose, and exposed fourth class. Much more remote than your average Zion climbs. Plus none of us had been there before either.
Gonna Set my Soul on Fire/All you need is a strong heart and nerves of steel.
…Pomus / Shuman
Our intrepid little band gathered together in Sin City; being the closest major airport within easy driving distance. Apparently only 14% of people visiting Vegas go to the casinos. It seems hard to believe looking at the plane load of people we flew in with. Renee and I arrived early and did some grocery shopping and picked up some last minute camp supplies. Our overall approach was to eating was going to be, to make trail lunches and camp breakfasts on the early days, and to splurge on restaurant gastronomy for dinners and late start breakfasts. As the reader will see, we did exactly that. The Whole Foods (Paycheque) and the REI in Henderson are where we usually get our provisions for Red Rocks climbing trips, and this trip was no different.
There were some airplane delays on Bills flight, some additional shopping to be done once he landed, and there was some major construction delays on the highway through town, but eventually we got out of Vegas and started to rocket across the desert with the setting sun at our backs.
Spent the night in Utah, in a cave up in the hills.
…Garcia / Dawson / Hunter
We arrived late in Springdale, the gateway to Zion, after dark and the first orders of business were to get food and to check into our campsite. Food ended up being two excellent pizzas and a jug of Cutthroat Pale at the packed Zion Pizza and Noodle Company. We weren’t exactly pleased about our campsite situation as the original plan had us moving three times over the week due to how booked the campground was. Fortunately the next morning Renee was able to wrangle our way into moving to a cheaper and much better site for the duration of our stay. It was at the end of a loop so only one neighbour adjacent to us, close to the new washrooms, and a lovely wild flower garden as well; of which we considered ourselves the self appointed guardians. We had good neighbours for the most part. The last crew that was there did have some noisy kids, but even that was not too bad.
What a sight greeted us in the cool crisp dawn. Towering red sandstone all around us. The stuff of legends. Much like the Valley ,nothing really prepares you for the first view of Zion.
Our first full day was upon us. What to do? We soon found ourselves in the cozy confines of the Mean Bean’s corner window seat, where we ended up holding council many mornings in the coming week. A finer establishment for breaking ones fast could not be found. They had a most excellent brew of espresso, as well as a fine food and pastry collection. This was also the place to meet and greet other members of the climbing tribe.
Photo: Backhoe Billy
The Mean Bean (Now Deep Creek Coffee)
Two of these meetings come to mind, both of which happened almost at the same time this very morning. The first and fortuitous one, which was a splendid couple from down under: Paul and Sue. Paul seemed a solid climber and they both had a real lust for life. We hit it off right away and ended up running into them on virtually every day. Paul’s only idiosyncrasy was that he was neither a cricket nor a rugby fan, something which I thought of as very un-Australian behaviour. Later in the trip he told me how he soloed Snake Dike; which is not a hard climb from a difficulty perspective, but it certainly is highly committing from a solo perspective. As I had done this climb in my youth, (and is documented elsewhere on this site) this certainly sealed the deal with liking this guy. The second meeting was with The Canuck; a local ‘climber’. A wrong way rubber. You know the type… he had done this, and he had done that, and had this or that particular thing… and while all of the, ‘this and that’s’ may have been true, at one point in time, his soft pudginess did not appear to have been tested by anything too physical or hardcore anytime recent. Two chance meetings…almost simultaneously… one with positive energy and one with negative.
We had decided that we needed to do a good solid recce on the approach to and descent from one of our main objectives; Cowboy Ridge. So that is what we spent the remains of the day doing. This in fact turned out to be very prudent, as there was no trail for the majority of the approach, and neither approach nor especially the descent turned out to be obvious. Renee had been doing her homework and had most skilfully mastered the use of my new GPS and was plotting our course and various waypoints for when we would return to do the route proper in a few days hence. This was a most valuable exercise.
I’m gonna holler and I’m gonna scream
I’m gonna get me some mescaline
And then I’m gonna rhyme that with gasoline
It’s a drunken poet’s dream
There’s some money on the table and a pistol on the floor
A few paperback books by Louis L’Amour
Whisky bottles are scattered like last night’s clothes
With cigarettes and papers and Oreos
My harmonica’s got a busted reed
My lips are chapped and about to bleed
She says, that’s nothing, when she was a kid
She danced with the dead at the pyramid
– Ray Wylie Hubbard
Kinesava on the Recce Day
Although cool in the morning, it ended up as a very hot day and the first real introduction to off piste desert travel for both Bill and Renee. At least we only had minimal packs. The approach we got sussed out just nicely, which ended up in greatly aiding our efforts on the actual climbing day. We sort of scoped out the descent route, but in retrospect, the only way to have really done this justice would have been to do the whole thing. We did a cursory look and that’s about it. A jug of ice cold beer, burritos, and delicious Phish tacos awaited us at Cafe Oscars, a Springdale institution for decades, where we had stellar service from Ludo, who in a way reminded me of Emilio from the movie Mr. Deeds.
“Jeesum crow how’d you get down here so fast?”
“Sneaky-sneaky, sir. Right this way.”
The next day we did a fun little climb that will be recounted at some other time and which led us into a rest day. A rest day already? Can it be? Apparently so. And as such it starts at the Mean Bean, although if I recall correctly we brewed our first coffee in camp, as well as having first breakfast. Afterwards we take the shuttle up the canyon to the Temple of Sinewava and hiked into where the Narrows starts. Plenty of tourists abound. I guess some people don’t get out much, or live in much different parts of the world, but it was comical to see how many people were taking pictures of chipmunks and squirrels. I suppose we have been lucky in our lives and probably take a lot of this for granted. We saw a party coming down the narrows where they had been several days on a canyoneering through-hike. I think that piqued interest in the three of us to try that someday.
We also made a stop at Big Bend to look at Moonlight Buttress. There was one party on it that we could see, near the top. It has the distinction of being one of the easiest aid climbs, and one of the harder free climbs, and the site of one of the most outrageous solos in recent years. There were also two solo parties on Prodigal Son, and we talked to one soloist who just bailed off of the third pitch, after getting a bit gripped. That’s a climb I really want to get on one of these days. Down valley a bit there was also a group on Megamegahedral.
We got back to camp early and carefully prepared our gear and packs for the following days exploit which was expected to be our trips crown jewel. That evening however, we had a fantastic meal at the Bit and Spur, which left us all yearning to go back at our earliest convenience. Now to bed, and try to sleep in anticipation of the big day tomorrow.
Bruce Berry was a working man
He used to load that Econoline van.
Well, early in the morning
at just about the break of day
He used to sleep
until the afternoon
…Neil Young
Thunder on the mountain, fires on the moon
There’s a ruckus in the alley and the sun will be here soon
Today’s the day, gonna grab my trombone and blow
Well, there’s hot stuff here and it’s everywhere I go
…Bob Dylan
Headlamp Approach
As our new Aussie friend Paul told us we would need to be, we were indeed up at Sparrows Fart. Camp breakfast in the dark… no coffee either, indicating that this was truly serious business. We drove, parked at the trailhead and were on the move at exactly zero six hundred. A full moon, having reconnoitered the way earlier, and having the GPS data enabled us to make excellent time, even though most of our travel was through desert scrub with no trail. The packs weren’t light. We had two ropes, a load of hardware, and three litres of fluid each. By zero eight thirty we had breached the lower escarpment and were quite pleased with ourselves. Our smugness soon turned however, as we headed up the ridge proper. What we were expecting and mentally prepared for was not what we encountered. Having been on many fourth class alpine ridges in our time we thought we would have this one in the bag. Not so much. The rock was much looser and more friable than expected. The route-finding was less obvious than we had been led to believe. The exposure was as advertised, but coupled with the looseness and the route-finding, and a few close calls it soon became obvious that we would be burning daylight at a rapid rate, and we might even face the potential of a night out; and a mostly unknown descent route. We had advanced a hundred plus metres up the ridge, but there was probably over six hundred metres yet to come, and although still early by civilian standards, we opted to let discretion be the better part of valour, and with slightly heavy hearts turned back and carefully down-climbed to the base of the ridge.
Typical Ridge Terrain
Renee on the lower ridge
offwidth livin’ the dream
Backhoe Billy on one of tricky bits
But, in spite of this, we were not going to let the day be a total loss, and we were determined to salvage what we could. So, to that end we would ‘hike’ to the top using the East Face ledges descent route. We walked up the main drainage to where it petered out and cached most of our climbing gear, carefully marking its location using the GPS. We had a bite to eat and forged upwards. It was mostly easy going in the lower reaches although loose and peppered with abundant cacti, agave, and other sharp plants. As we ascended higher there were some short class three and four bluffs that had to be negotiated that were typically very loose but without too much exposure. There were several loose ledges that did have a significant amount of exposure, and even one section that we found a rappel anchor for reversing that portion. All in all this was becoming increasing less of a ‘hike’. The NPS really should be chastised for calling this a hike. To be fair they mention some fourth class scrambling, but their description does make this seem far more trivial than it actually is. Renee’s knee had a bloody collision with the business end of a cactus and she ended up with a good number of spines embedded under the skin. Upwards, we continued.
The ‘Trail’
Always dreamin’ dreams of far off silvery blue/Always feelin’ thorns that stab and sting
…Traditional
There was some more very loose scrambling that brought us to the base of the final ramp. It was here that Renee opted to wait for Bill and me to make the final bit to the plateau and to the summit beyond. It wasn’t the most level, or secure spot on the hill, but it was better than most places to wait. We gave her a two hour return time. I never like splitting up like that, and I know that she had all sorts of things going through her head. However, we dispatched with the ramp quickly and made our way across the plateau and from there one hundred and fifty metres or so of easy third class scrambling led us to the summit. There was a cairn, but oddly enough, no register. We spared only a little time for some of the obligatory photos, food, and drink, as we wanted to hasten our return to Renee. This return was mostly quick and uneventful, although we did have to carefully retrace our footsteps in the sand and dirt to ensure we had the exact ramp as we had used coming up as it was not obvious, being several to choose from, and we had left the GPS with Renee.
Backhoe Billy on the summit
Within the hour we were back where we had parted company. And there she was intact, not et by any mountain lion. The remaining descent included some tricky down-climbing, one rappel at the aforementioned anchor, and some cautious route finding. We navigated back to the gear cache, repacked our packs, and began the long slog back to the jeep. The day was still very hot and the harsh sun was relentless. By now there was only sand rattling around in our water bottles, and it was a bit of a death march down the hill. We arrived dusty, hot, tired, and parched, by around 1700. Our first order of business was to take Renee to the clinic, to see about getting those cactus needles extricated from her.
Sent for the doctor, well the doctor he did come,
Just pointed out Stack-A-Lee, said, “Now what have you done?”
“You’re a bad man, bad man, Stack-A-Lee.”
– Bob Dylan
We made it to the clinic just as the doc was getting ready to leave. Well, we assume that he was a doctor anyway. He did have a necktie on, although there was some speculation amongst us that he may have been the janitor going on a date. Mormons can be so formal at times. In any event the good Doctor Strange was able to remove most (but not all) of the spines. He was very surprised, and actually chided us that we took a ‘girl’ up Kinesava for one thing, and told us some interesting stories about the death of an early guidebook author on the exact route we climbed. Mmmm… interesting. Well for one thing pardner, Renee ain’t no ordinary girl, that’s for sure. Bill and I practically emptied the water cooler in the waiting room slaking our thirst. Eventually Renee was returned to us minus a bunch of cactus spines and some blood, so the next order of business was, as usual dinner. We were so impressed by the Bit and Spur from the previous night; we returned there this evening as well, where we heartily ate and drank our fill, while planning what adventures we could dream up to do next…
Sawabe Heizaemon was ordered to commit seppuku on the eleventh day of the month; as this became known to him on the night of tenth he sent a request to Yamamoto Tsunetomo to be Kaishaku. The following is a copy of Yamamoto’s reply (He was 24 years old at the time)
I am in accord with your resolution and accept your request for me to function as Kaishaku. I instinctively felt that I should decline, but as this is to take place tomorrow there is no time for making excuses and I will undertake the job. The fact that you have chosen me from among many people is a great personal satisfaction to me. Please set your mind at ease concerning all that must follow. Although it is now late at night, I will come to your house to talk over the particulars.
When Heizaemon saw this reply, it is said the he remarked, “This is a matchless letter.”
From ages past it has been considered ill-omened by samurai to be requested as Kaishaku. The reason for this is that one gains no fame even if the job is well done. And if by chance one should blunder, it becomes a lifetime disgrace.
…From the seventh chapter of the Hagakure
Soundtrack:
Available soon on Area 51 Records
There aint no Saguaros in Texas……………………………..Reverend Horton Heat
Please don’t take the baby to the liquor store…………. Reverend Horton Heat
Drunken Poets Dream……………………………………………Ray Wylie Hubbard
Tonight’s the Night…………………………………………………Neil Young
Friend of the Devil………………………………………………….The Grateful Dead
Thunder on the Mountain……………………………………….Bob Dylan
Cowboy Lullaby…………………………………………………….Traditional
Stack –A- Lee……………………………………………………….Bob Dylan
Viva Las Vegas………………………………………………………Dread Zeppelin
Food and Drink:
Mean Bean Cafe
The Bit and Spur
Zion Pizza and Noodle
Cafe Oscars
Evolution Amber
Cutthroat Pale Ale
Full Suspension IPA
Alex Honnold re-enacting his solo of Moonlight Buttress for the documentary…
“Alex starts to climb… and we’re just silent, and then he turns and says, ‘So do you guys, like, want me to make this look like it’s hard for me?'”
