Deuceldike: First Blood Part II
Last September Kat and I went up to climb Snake Dike. We were the first one's to make the hike up that morning and after climbing a few hundred feet we realized that we were on the wrong route. Doh! Not sure what happened really. Even though I kept seeing bail nuts and bail biners, I was looking at a beautiful line and got excited to climb. At about 30 feet above my last rusty bolt having just climbed the 5.9 dike section and with nothing shiny in sight above me, I had my coming to Jesus moment. I sat there and went through my options; 1) downclimb...fuck no!, 2) sit here and wait for YOSAR...hell no! I'd never live that one down with BAMRU, 3) Keep climbing and don't fall. The decision was easy, I yelled down to Kat to start simul climbing when the rope came taut and oh yeah...DONT FALL!. We stated simul climbing and at first we had nothing clipped into the 200 feet of rope between us but or one measly little 1/4 inch bolt that would never take a fall. Once Kat unclipped it however, we had 200 feet of rope with only a slung chicken-head between us. We kept our cool however and basically ended up soloing the route. The moves were fun and literally breath-taking at times but I felt a death wish shouldn't be a prerequisite to climbing the route. Fast forward 9 months, and Wells and I returned to the base with bolt kit in hand and the permission of John Middendorf (the FAist) to beef up the single 1/4" bolt rust-job belays and add one bolt to the third pitch that had no protection for the entire 200 feet.
I started up the first pitch and ended up doing a variation that seemed harder than I'd done before. It was a lieback with a very awkward stance. When I got to the top before moving left onto the slab, I noticed the direct-in crack that I had climbed last September.
I moved right onto the slab and moved quickly past the first bolt. Only wanting to change out the anchors, I clipped the bolt with a Screamer. A Screamer, for those of you who aren't aware, is basically a quick indication that you're doing something stupid. A Screamer is tubular webbing that is folded up and loosely sewn together and is designed to break the stitching and extend when you take a fall. The intent is to hopefully break your fall enough so whatever you're placing it to doesn't pop out of the rock. In this case an old bolt, but it's mostly used in ice climbing for ice screws or in big wall climbing with little rivets. If you find yourself placing it, then you're just dumb. I'm apparently just dumb.
I moved right onto the slab and moved quickly past the first bolt. Only wanting to change out the anchors, I clipped the bolt with a Screamer. A Screamer, for those of you who aren't aware, is basically a quick indication that you're doing something stupid. A Screamer is tubular webbing that is folded up and loosely sewn together and is designed to break the stitching and extend when you take a fall. The intent is to hopefully break your fall enough so whatever you're placing it to doesn't pop out of the rock. In this case an old bolt, but it's mostly used in ice climbing for ice screws or in big wall climbing with little rivets. If you find yourself placing it, then you're just dumb. I'm apparently just dumb.
I continued past the first bolt about 40 more feet up a diagonal dike until I got to the anchor which of course was just a single rusty bolt. I happily clipped into the 30 year old rust-job and pulled out my drill bit and hammer and started the long job of placing a new bolt to the left of the already established bolt. It took about 45 minutes to get my first bolt in. The granite on Half Dome is known for being bullet hard and I was a beginner at this. I belayed Wells up on the newly established bolt I put in and he joined me on the belay. Wells didn't have much experience at this point; in fact this was his first big Yosemite multi-pitch and his first Yosemite 5.9. Baptism under fire if I ever saw it. I popped out the old rusty bolt next to the new one we were both hanging on and handed Wells the hammer and drill. He looked at me wide-eyed just now fully realizing the situation his ego and stoke just got him in. His first real hanging belay and he had to hammer in his own anchor bolt. I love it!
We finished up the new two-bolt stainless steel anchor and I started up the next pitch. I again came across another 1/4 taper bolt, the only bolt of the pitch, and I clipped in to my Screamer once again. I worked my way around the roof, leading hard 5.9 slab above the Screamer and it started easing off the higher I got above the bolt. When I was about 60 feet above it, I found a nice red alien placement and started up Deuceldike proper, a distinct rock band running vertically up the south face of Half Dome. Now here's where things got real. The dike is slippery and sustained valley 5.9 slab climbing. It puts your body in positions that are incredibly exposed and unstable, and a barn-door is super likely if you don't constantly engage your core.
I did eventually get to the one-bolt anchor after another exciting 40 feet of run-out on the dike and I repeated the process, adding my third new bolt to the route. This time I didn't replace the anchor bolt but rather left it with one new SS bolt and one old Middendorf bolt. Wells again joined me taking a fall on the slippery dike right below the anchor, making me think twice about the run-outs I get myself into on Yosemite slab. I started up the third pitch which climbs the last 30 feet of Deuceldike proper before moving onto a 5.3 ramp that eventually joins Snake Dike. I felt comfortable moving up onto the ramp but thinking about Wells and the possibility of him again taking a fall above the anchor on the slippery dike I stopped to contemplate another bolt. If I were to get all the way to the next anchor, which wouldn't be that hard of climbing up the ramp and Wells was to fall, he would easily take a 200 foot pendulum fall, scrapping his way across vast amounts of slab with the possibility of not being able to get back up without ascending a fixed line. Because of this, I stopped at the top of the 5.9 dike, 30 feet above the anchor and put in a new bolt. The same spot in fact where I had contemplated my options last September. In my defense, there is still only one bolt on the 200 feet of climbing on the third pitch. It's still incredibly scary and not for the weak at heart, but again at least no one will die when climbing the route.
We finished the third pitch with some minor shenanigans and some down climbing for me on the ramp. There's a single bolt on the ram and unless you have a 70m rope you can't get all the way to the next Snake Dike anchor without simul climbing it. I wasn't about to do that to Wells so our fourth pitch turned out to be a very short pitch up the remainder of the ramp.
We climbed the last two pitches that joined with Snake Dike and then scrambled up the 500 or so feet of endless third-class slab until we reached the summit of Half Dome. If felt good to climb Deuceldike again. It felt good to fix the route so others could climb it safely. It felt good to get Wells up his first big Yosemite climb and see his smiling face on top of one of the most beautiful pieces of rock in the climbing universe; a look that will never go away no matter how many more times he climbs the route.
In the end I left three old John Middendorf bolts on the route and I fully intent to go back up and replace them with new shiny bolts, further making the route climbable without the use of a Screamer or balls-of-steel. The descent was great, hiking down past the tourists, their amazement boosting my ego as they asked if I climbed up using that rope on my back. I can't help it. It feels good to do and see what 99.9% of the general population cannot. It's a high and I like it and I don't intend to apologize for it because it's egotistical. I know it is and this time I'm okay with that. I encourage everyone to try it and if you can't do it just write me, I'll go up with you. That view never gets old.