El Cap: East Buttress Trip Report by Charles Lamb
“My baby drove up in a brand new Cadillac…” That song1 kept cycling through my head. Why? I didn’t know; I hadn’t played it for a long time. “More slack on green!” Aleksey called. I snapped back to reality. I was belaying Sam Adelman while he led the long runout 4th pitch of the East Buttress route up El Cap in Yosemite.
Some time during the winter 2004/2005 season, Aleksey had suggested that he and I climb the East Buttress. I had heard about it and seen the buttress last year from the top of “After Six” on the Manure Pile. Aleksey met my protestations of “But I can’t do 5.10b, especially in Yosemite” with the rejoinder, “It’s only a few 5.10 moves and the rest is 5.9 or lower.” So I had no choice but to agree, knowing that it might be my only opportunity to take a whack at the route.
Not only would I have to train for endurance – one day in the gym my wife Linda suffered through belaying me on 40 routes to simulate the estimated 1300’ of climbing on the East. Buttress – but I had to train for an “Aleksey style” ascent. I had originally termed this “Russian style” climbing, but many of Aleksey’s Russian friends took offense to this terminology and informed me that this was not their style. Aleksey climbs with very little water or food and he planned on doing the East Buttress’s 13 pitches with neither. My climbing friends all thought this was nuts, especially in Yosemite’s 90+ degree heat. Nevertheless, I took him seriously and started to do all of my climbing without food or water. I climbed in the hot gym for two to four hours and didn’t drink or eat the whole time. I climbed at Cathedral and Rumney all day in 90 degree heat without sustenance. Aleksey and I did the 8 or 9 pitches of Moby Grape on Cannon in famine mode. Maybe this was possible after all. Still, the question of whether I could last all day without food or water in Yosemite lingered.
Aleksey had me climbing cracks at the gym and cracks outside. If he told me to try a route, I did, even if I didn’t have a prayer of freeing it successfully. I continued to protest that I didn’t think I could do 5.10 moves on El Cap. Aleksey explained that if worse came to worse, I could “pull on gear”. This didn’t seem right to me, but he told me in great detail about Russian climbing teams, Russian “School” climbing, and how it just didn’t matter if I pulled on gear. I should try a move and if I couldn’t get it, just move on. Much more important than freeing the route was enjoying the experience. The night before we did the East Buttress I finally came to grips with it all. Only one person (Lynn Hill) has ever freed “The Nose” on El Cap, yet thousands of people have “done” it. So what if I didn’t free the E. Buttress? As Aleksey says, “It won’t knock the crown off your head.”
We arrived at Yosemite a few days prior to our ascent of the E. Buttress so that we could do other warm-up routes. A day at the Swan Slabs went well and I did my first Yosemite 5.9. “Not so bad”, I thought. Perhaps their grades aren’t any worse than ours back in New England. At the Cookie Cliffs I did “Elevator Shaft” (5.8) which scared me a lot; it was long, it was a chimney, it was claustrophobic, and it was exposed. But I did it anyway because Aleksey told me to, and when it comes to climbing, if Aleksey says “Jump!” I ask “How high?” I looked at the 105 foot tall “Outer Limits” (5.10+) and thought about how scary, exposed, and intimidating it was. I remembered our climb on Moby Grape, several pitches up on Cannon Mountain and how I had wondered “Just what am I doing up here, anyway?” I was pretty sure that I’d be asking the same question on the East Buttress.
The morning of the ascent arrived. I woke at 2:53 am and lay awake all fired up about the upcoming climb. I had a huge breakfast. I felt good. I wasn’t tired even though I had only gotten a restless four hours of sleep.
At 5:40 am we started the approach; first through some woods, then up some boulders, then on looser scree, and finally on a trail that traversed the base of El Cap below Zodiac. As I walked along through the woods that came right up to the face, it seemed that this could be, say Crow Hill – just a familiar wall with some woods right next to it. But a look up through the trees at the wall revealed just how massive it was. An hour later we were at the base of the East Buttress. Thirty feet further was a 1000 foot drop-off which Aleksey advertised as a great place to pee. Rather than risk falling off and ruining everyone’s day, I opted for a more sedate bush further back from the cliff.
At 6:40 am we started to climb. Pitch 1 was a rather hairy 5.9 chimney that required much stemming. Aleksey led and then Sam and I followed together on two ropes with me slightly ahead. Not that I’ve climbed in a lot of chimneys, but this one was hard. Since I had opted to bring a knapsack, I hung it down off my harness while I was in the chimney. I don’t know if that was good or bad, but having a pack dangling between my legs was different from any way that I’d climbed before. The pack allowed me the luxury of bringing some food and 1.5 liters of water. Aleksey brought no water or food and Sam had ¾ liter on his harness. I finished the chimney, albeit not with incredibly clean style, Sam right behind me.
Next was the crux 5.10b pitch. After studying the move for a while, Aleksey led it and proceeded up to the next belay. It’s really just two moves that are 10b. Sam went next and got the moves, which merited a call of “Nice Sam!” On my first attempt, I couldn’t get a good enough grip on the rock with my feet so I peeled off. After a second unsuccessful try I was able to move on by hanging and pulling on the rope. “No big deal” I thought – I’m just trying to finish and have fun. Besides, it was good that the crux was low on the route. I knew that there were a couple more hard pitches further ahead, but that they were still a couple hours away.
At the fourth 5.6R pitch, Sam got an unexpected surprise when Aleksey offered to let him lead. “Stick to the jugs – if you’re not on jugs, then you’re off route.” Aleksey instructed. I had seen Sam do a really hairy two-pitch lead on “Elevator Shaft” two days before so I was confident that this would be a cakewalk for him. Sam required no arm twisting to convince him to lead so he took off quickly lest Aleksey change his mind. I belayed, while Aleksey gave advice to Sam for as long as he was in view. Aleksey didn’t hide his obvious pride that one of his students had taken the sharp end of the rope on El Cap. After Sam was out of sight on the pitch, Aleksey and I marveled at how far Sam had come in his climbing and how confident and unflappable he was. At the top of the pitch we quickly celebrated Sam’s milestone with high-fives and handshakes. The journey moved on.
Around pitch 6 or 7, Andy (my son) radioed from the El Cap Meadow to see how we were doing. I told him where we were, and he spotted our ant like figures through the binoculars. He tracked us for a couple of pitches and then went ex-communicado.
I made the next two 5.9 pitches cleanly, although I have to admit, just barely. It was starting to get hot in the sun, and at the belay stations, Sam and I tried to keep a little idle chatter going to help reduce our nerves. We were continuously occupied, either dealing with rope management or trying to stay comfortable on the small hanging belays. A recurring topic for us was how anyone could possibly solo this route. The cover of the guidebook has a picture of Timmy O’Neil taken from one of the most exposed and tight belays on the route, soloing the “chicken head” pitch (named for the formations on the rock on that face). It was at this belay, with Sam’s butt was hanging out over Yosemite Valley, that he talked about how the wind freaked him out and how unnerving it had been for him a year earlier when he had done Half Dome with the Alpina team. Hearing this from the guy who had led that scary Elevator Shaft two days ago was a relief, since it allowed me to be somewhat apprehensive myself. So far I hadn’t been as scared as I expected to be, largely due to Sam’s company.
We did the “chicken head” pitch in the hot sun. Sam and I talked about drinking while Aleksey was climbing, but maintained abstinence since we didn’t want to disappoint our climbing mentor. At least my water bottle was out of sight in my pack, but Sam’s was tantalizingly visible on his harness, clinking and swishing away and reminding him of his thirst.
Sam and I were in fairly ragged shape at what we thought was the penultimate belay ledge; my feet were really sore, and we were both sucking on hard candy like it was going out of style. As we dealt with the constant rope management, Aleksey used up all 200’ of it. We couldn’t see or hear him once he used it up, so Sam pulled it out of his Reverso and we waited. I felt like the living dead when we finally started climbing. When we finally came into Aleksey’s view, he gave us the welcome news that we were at the end: he had combined the last two pitches into one 200’ long pitch.
I pulled the last move to the belay as if it were a boulder problem and let out a yell as I came over the top. I was completely spent; it had pretty much taken everything I had to finish. The climb took us 7 hours and 40 minutes; not a great time, but not bad either. We had high fives and handshakes all around and went to a shady area for some celebratory sips of water. Aleksey had a meager 1/8 liter while Sam and I each downed ½ liter.
We packed up and started down 20 minutes later, taking it slow, partly to be careful, and partly because at least I was dead tired. I’d expected the four 60 meter (200’) rappels on the descent to be fairly easy. They weren’t hard, but the length was impressive enough to make me feel pretty exposed and wary. We continued down the trail and finally arrived at the parking lot.
Back at Camp 4, I met Andy who had been waiting all day in vain to climb “Nutcracker”. When the Alpina group got back, I was congratulated by Joe Cauteruccio, Mike Foley, and the others. I was flattered that Mike shook my hand after finishing the East Buttress. Here was an accomplished climber who had done Predator (Rumney, 5.13b), congratulating me. Wow! [ed. Mike did the East Buttress with Aleksey two days later, of course with no trouble.] After Andy finished his first trad lead (his compensation for not getting to climb Nutcracker that day), Katya and Sergei Vorotnikov, Aleksey and I all toasted the day’s events with beer. I tacked on the additional reward of a heavy, greasy cheeseburger. Back at Curry Lodge, exhausted, I fell asleep with the light on in the tent.
I woke up the next morning feeling exhilarated about the climb and greatly refreshed. With Aleksey’s help and guidance I had finished the East Buttress route and I felt proud of it. As I write this and refer back to the topo, much of it is a blur. But much of it is vivid, too: the 10b crux; the second 5.9 pitch with the left angling face/arête/crack thing where you have to hook your right foot up; the really nice slab climbing on pitch 5; the “chicken head” hanging belay and face; and coming over the top and unexpectedly learning that we’d made it.
Linda and I often tell Aleksey that a lot of what he does for his students is to create lasting and lifelong memories. I now have this treasured memory from this particular day. I’m sure Sam will also remember his 4th pitch lead. And undoubtedly “Brand New Cadillac” will be associated with this epic in my mind for a long time. Thank you, Aleksey.
1 Brand New Cadillac, Brian Setzer Orchestra covering The Clash.
