How to Climb
John Long: The Royal Scam
Coming clean on the mysterious first ascent of a Yosemite classic
Only with reservations do I record the following story. First, it ends a classic hoax, one so fine, so perfect, that I might never again have the opportunity to stage one with details so inexplicable. Second, it makes me out as a rascal, but I can deal with the flak. The gaff worked once, and no doubt would continue to work; but since there’s now an outside chance of some other rascal taking credit for my idea, I’m hoisting the curtain on the whole shebang. Dig:
In the fall of 1973, Jim Bridwell (The “Bird”) showed me a list of new routes he planned to attempt in Yosemite in the coming years. One took a bold, penciled line up a black-and-white photo of Middle Cathedral, which then, as well as now, is my favorite rock. The line looked striking — splitter cracks, thin corners, a roof, some open face work, hanging belays for sure. The length, projected at 12 pitches, made the adventure seem especially dramatic.
In conventional military fashion, Bridwell soon commanded a platoon of Camp 4 draftees to a high point of 900 feet. Here, buckling knifeblades and holdless granite halted vertical progress, though the Bird thought it possible for the platoon to execute a “column left” and traverse off to easier rock on the flank. In the spring of the following year, the platoon did just that, and the route was completed: The Central Pillar of Frenzy (IV 5.10b).
No less than 10 climbers had their hand in the final ascent. Angered at my exclusion, I chose the next best thing, an early repeat, something of recent vogue. The Bird and company had no sooner rapped off when folks started queuing up for The Central Pillar, an all-time classic from start to finish. Nevertheless, when Jim Orey and I gained the last pitch we were amused that the route “finished” by traversing off at the first rugged stretch, though not amused enough to brave Bridwell’s buckling knifeblades and holdless granite above. We traversed off like everyone else.
Enter Tobin Sorensen and Gib Lewis, the next team to attempt to straighten the Bird’s line. Tobin would traverse off only at gun point. Gib, then the stronger face climber, thieved up the holdless pitch, which ended in slings beneath a thin crack chocked with dirt and shrubs. The final 300 feet, leading to the U-shaped bowl, looked climbable, but they’d need a roto-tiller to clean this next 40-foot stretch. Never one to rap off, under any circumstances, Tobin punched out the jungle pitch on aid and the two carried on, encountering a one-inch splitter (5.10b) on the next and final lead. The complete line was finished: V 5.10d, A1.
Remember that The Central Pillar of Frenzy was a Bridwell route, a hallowed creation beyond rebuff. To think of improving — let alone completing — something so sacred was comparable to doodling on a Goya. Never comfortable usurped, the Bird resolved to tidy up the Lewis/Sorensen direct finish. Presently the Bird, Billy Westbay and I were in conference, glassing the route from El Cap meadow. The Bird slowly drew the binoculars from his eyes, his gaze still fixed on that green stretch, 950 feet up. He pulled a last draw from his Camel and toed the butt into the dirt.