Training for the Zodiac Wall-Part 1
Written by Peder Ourom
July 1979 Perry Beckham / Matt Taylor / Peder Ourom
Location: Yosemite Valley, California
Mountain: El Capitan
Route: The Zodiac, Grade 6, 5.9 / A5
First Ascent: Charlie Porter 1972 Solo climb
In 1972, Charlie Porter completed the first solo ascent of the Zodiac Wall in Yosemite Valley, California. This was the climbing equivalent of a moon landing.
Feeling the need for an even bigger big wall climb, in 1975 he travelled to Baffin Island and climbed Mt. Asgard solo. He also managed to avoid being eaten by the polar bears that lived in the area. Charlie was on this 3500’ monster wall for 9 days on the final push, the first route in the world to be graded VII. In the following years he would become an inspirational technical sailor and climate change scientist in his adopted home of Tierra del Fuego. The wild places are where he found himself most at home.
In 1977, I had my first Yosemite “big wall” adventure on the south face of Washington Column. The most obvious feature was the Kor roof, the fifth pitch of the climb. We camped (“bivouacked” in climbing parlance) the night before on Dinner Ledge, as the route was rated Grade 5, with most ascents spending one night on the wall. Looking up on a big wall at night is a creepy sensation. The cracks and bolts and features have all disappeared, and continuing on looks impossible. Rest is hard to come by. At dawn, after a fitful night, the features on the route begin to reappear. I would experience this sensation dozens of times over the following years. Our climb was the standard first ‘big” wall for novices, and this was a good description for us. Probably 50% of the South face aspirants retreated from this point. Looking up the huge overhang that blocked their view of the upper wall, they would now retreat back to their Camp 4, heads hanging low.
The roof itself featured long reaches between placements (the first climber to ascend the pitch was Layton Kor who was well over 6’ tall). Because Perry was also over 6’ and had a huge height advantage over myself, we made sure that he got this lead.
The use of “cheater” sticks to increase your reach had not become popular yet, and was thought to be in poor style. The climbing itself was not very difficult, but we were dreadfully slow, and needed to bivouac a second time at a small ledge at the base of the 9th pitch. To be fast and efficient on a wall climb you needed to have systems and techniques dialed in, and we certainly did not. A couple of years later we would be able to switch leaders at a belay in minutes, with super organized and equalized stations.
Unfortunately, we were still at the gumby stage. Valley regulars would often run up the first 4 or 5 pitches of the South Face route on Sunday evenings, especially if there had been a storm. The purpose of their climb was to retrieve gear that had been left by climbers such as us. Sometimes they would even return after retrieving a stuck and abandoned rope that would be put to good use on a El Cap wall in the coming weeks.
Surprisingly that morning, with only a couple of easy pitches left to get to the top, Perry insisted that we retreat from the route. I was surprised and concerned, but when he explained what the issue was, I gave in and reluctantly began preparation for the much more dangerous descent. After all, what he had noticed that morning upon awakening, was a pretty dreadful rookie mistake. Perry had spent the entire night, on a tiny little ledge, without being attached to the anchor.
In 1978, after gaining a lot more experience in Squamish, I returned once again to the Washington Column. My climbing partner was Doug Scott, and the route was the Prow, a more serious undertaking than the South Face. Perry had found a job logging in Toba Inlet and his life’s path with technical rigging had started, so he was unavailable. Now I should explain something here. The Doug Scott that I climbed the route with was not the British Doug Scott. Famous for climbing big walls worldwide (and in Victoria for stealing Wozny’s pot plant), the British Doug was a wall genius. My Doug Scott, a Colorado climber, was not a wall genius. But I needed a partner, and he was willing to come with me. The one strong memory that I have from the ascent is teaching him how to lower out on a traverse when following a pitch. The technique he used previously was a little shaky. Lacking big wall skills, he would hammer on the last piton before the traverse, then crash and plummet sideways for a huge distance, screaming the whole way. Darryl Hatten would not have been amused.
For the 1979 season, I had Perry again as a partner. From 1976-1978 we had done a couple of hard early ascents of the Squamish routes the Black Dyke and the Sheriff’s Badge. Both were Grade 5 routes (one or two nights), with A4 pitches. We were very young and eager, and we still had many tricks and techniques to learn.
In the contingent of Canadian free climbers at the time, I was not very good. Dave Lane, Scott Flavelle, Peter Croft, Hamish Fraser, Mike Beaubien, Greg Foweraker, Richard Suddaby, Dean Hart, Perry Beckham, Randy Atkinson, the list of better Squamish free climbers than me was pretty long. Although competent, I was just starting to achieve 5.10 grades, and was at the bottom of the list. Lucky for me, it was not mandatory to climb hard free on the big walls. A few years later my free skills had improved to the point where I could climb the Grand Wall repeatedly without falling off, and this was an important skill to have when you only were using a couple of pieces of gear on a pitch.
Aid climbing was a different game, sort of a granite building project. Few had the patience and interest in learning the tricks of the trade that were required to climb big walls, and willing to make and purchase the huge amounts of gear required. For me however, the big routes were what I lived for. The full commitment required, and the amazing places you could go, called out to me. It was really hard. Your hands became progressively more destroyed as the days passed. Hauling loads was brutal, and your core muscles became immensely strong. A lot of time was spent trying to get in the sun, or hide from it. Nights were spent controlling your fears. Climbs lasted a week or more. You had to be very inventive.
In the years following, the name of the game turned to free climbing. Cams, sticky rubber, and better ropes, made it a lot easier. You needed a different kind of partner for a wall climb than a free climb. The suffering and toil required to ascend a huge wall is not an activity that most climbers like. It was slow and expensive, and all of my wall climbing partners had a screw or two loose.
In the future I was to climb many long and hard free routes with Hamish Fraser like Astroman, The Rostrum, and the Nose. He was my free climbing weapon, and it was not really an issue if I backed off a lead, as long as I could get back to the belay somehow.
On wall climbs however, his slender build was a massive disadvantage, placing and removing pitons and hauling huge loads, was easier for more robust climbers, and I definitely fit in this category. A favourite Peter Croft quote from 40 years ago was “Hamish would have been the best Canadian climber, if his work ethic wasn’t so strong.” Unfortunately for the climbing world, Hamish’s work ethic was based on actual work, not climbing.
On the other hand, Peter’s work ethic for construction work instead of climbing was not quite so strong. Hired on a construction site on Vancouver Island in his youth, he was given the nickname of the Totem Pole. You can guess why. He may have not been the most talented from birth climber in our group from the mid-seventies, however within just a couple of years this was all to change. His complete focus on strength training, and skill development, was amazing to see. Emerging stronger each spring from his parents Nanaimo basement training facility, it quickly became clear that he would become one of the best climbers in the world. My climbing path would be a lot different.