Climbing Devil's Tower Part 3

After a rather fitful sleep the alarm went off at 4 am, well before sunrise. Andy wanted to be sure we hit the base early. If I remember right, dawn was around 5 or 5:30 and if we were at the base with the light, we could be down before the afternoon heat.

We arose grumbling and with all the false bravado three dam fools can muster. The memory of the previous days climb was all too fresh in our minds and the climb today was to be much harder.

We threw something together for breakfast, I cannot remember much about it but we ate something. We assembled our gear, backpack, harness, climbing shoes and rosin bag. We would not be taking much more with us. Andy told us to wear long sleeved shirts to help protect us against abrasions. Fred chose not to but that was Fred.

At about 5am, Andy came to our camp, fit as a fiddle and ready to go. We mimicked him as well as we could but I am not sure we pulled it off. He asked if we were ready and we assured him we were as ready as we would ever be. I was 55 or so at the time and was sure hoping I was ready. 

Andy jumped in our van and we headed for the parking lot, at the base of the Tower.

There is no way a person with my limited writing skills can describe the Tower, from its base, at dawn! This thing is HUGE!!! The road from the campground to the parking lot, winds through some beautiful country. It is only a couple miles but that early morning I am not seeing it. I see the dark outline of the Tower and am wondering if I have finally bitten off more than I can chew. I looked at my two buddies and saw that I was not alone with my feelings.

We pulled into the parking lot and offloaded out gear. It is hard to take your eyes off the thing. Andy checks all our gear and gives us a rundown of out climb, what to expect and set up our climbing order. He would go first, setting the anchors and stringing the safety rope. Pat would be second, and I third with Fred following. It would be Fred’s job to take out the anchors. When we got to the top of each pitch, Andy would take the anchors to reuse on the next pitch. A pitch is from ledge to ledge. If you want to call them ledges.

At the top of each pitch, there is a permanent anchor, set in the rock by the Park Service. These pitches are of various lengths, depending on the conditions. Most are between 40 and 80 ft.

If I remember right, the Tower is over 800 ft from its base. From its base it LOOKS like a couple thousand ft, especially at first light.

There is a paved walkway running all the was around the Tower. It is an easy walk, with places for tourist to rest and there are even telescopes for them to watch the climbers.

The first time I was there, I was standing on the walk and I could hear climbers talking. The acoustics are great there, it is the same when you are up on the face. I could hear the climbers talking but for the life of me, I could not see anyone on the Tower. It was so huge. Finally I saw them. The only way I could see them is by their brightly colored helmets. Red, yellow, blue and white, specks, which gave them away. It gave some sense to the huge size of the Monument and on reflection, it gave me a sense of the job I have bought for myself.

Andy led off, with us following, from the parking lot to the trail. We were to walk around to the other side of the Tower before out attempt.

We were taking the Durance Route. It was the route taken on the first successful climb, up the Tower, using mountain climbing techniques. I can not remember the whole story but some Guy attempted to parachute to the top and was gonna rappelled down. Problem was he landed on the top but all of his climbing gear missed. He spent a number of days up there, with no equipment, before Durance climbed up and rescued him. A google search can probably give you more information. It is fascinating!

It was getting lighter now and the full majesty of the Rock was coming into view, with the clear blue sky and the rising sun, backlighting it. I think I gulped around here.

The bunch of us, with Andy in the lead, finally left the trail and headed through what is called, the rubble pile. This is a field of huge boulders that have broken off the face, over the years. They are huge and many are as big as cars with a few buses thrown in. It is quite a scramble to get through them and we were breathing hard as, after 15 minutes or so, we came out at the upper side of the field. Now we were climbing. This is where Andy had us all rope together for safety. We spread out, about 15 ft apart, or so and picked our way, ever higher, to the first pitch.

I was breathing pretty hard by now and to my concealed joy, so were the other two. So far so good. As we arrived at the base, I realize what a chunk I had bitten off. I was just hoping I was up to the task!

I rested my hand against the face and looked straight up and up and up and up! From that vantage point I could not see the top, or the middle. All I saw was rock!

Andy once more asked us if we were ready. I nervously smiled and said sure, knowing he knew exactly what was going through my head. My head and my two companions, I was sure.

He told us to give him our backpacks as he was gonna take them to where we would be rappelling down. We would not be taking them to the top with us, it seems.

He grabbed the three packs and disappeared into the stunted trees that were to our left. When he was gone we had a chance to talk. I was happy to see that my companions shared my feeling of apprehension. Somehow this was comforting for me and I am sure for them. We are not climbers but took the task to do and wanted to finish, successful.

After about 10 minutes, Andy reappeared. He said, “Lets hit it” and he started off.

The tower is an extinct volcano. I guess what we are climbing is the core. All the rest had eroded away, leaving the harder center core. It is made up of long vertical tubes, is guess is the best way to describe it. You can see it in the picture. W would be following the cracks between The tubes. These tubes were about(and I am guessing) about 4 or 5 ft across the e cracks are pretty small, in places and maybe 8 inches at most, in others. We would be using the rope for safety but were not allowed to use it for climbing. Andy would raise hell if we tried! This was rock climbing, not rope climbing!

I saw that Andy stopped at one of these tubes that was broken and leaned to the right, angling up the face. He looked back us and smiled, then started up, climbing the tube.

We stood there and watched as he reached the top of the angled tube and started up the crack. He sure made it look simple but he was not fooling me! He would go up about 5 ft and set an anchor, hooking a d-ring through it and then slipping the safety rope in it. He kept going up and setting the anchors until he reached the top of the first pitch, which was about 60 ft, if I remember right.

Next was Pats turn, with Fred and I standing back and watching his assent. It was slow but he took his time and made it fine, after a few stalls and rest periods.

This climbing is a slow business. There are no steps up that thing and very few handholds. Some of the holds are big enough for a good grip but some are just a little projection that you might get a couple fingers over. At times you must just shove your hand in the vertical crack and use that for purchase. Once you have your hand anchored, or both hands if you are lucky, you have to move your feet up a bit and set them. It is a slow process and some times you think you will never find a grip. You don’t want to release one until you have the next but some times you have to. You might see a handhold, which is out of reach and have to lunge for it. I had to do that on a number of occasions.

You are reasonably safe because of the harness and safety line but when you look down a 250ft drop, you just don’t want to fall! There were a number of places that there was nothing to stop us but the bottom, if the safety system had failed.

Pat reached the top of the first pitch and anchored in. Then Andy yelled down for me to start my assent. Man I was not up for this but macho kicked in and I told Fred, “Piece of cake” and started up.

I climbed the angled tube with no problem and reached the bottom of the pitch. I looked up and could not see them. It was straight up and they were on a ledge. Then Andy looked over, high above and yelled, “Climb on!” and I started my assent.

I had watched Andy and Pat on while they climbed and tried to memorize where the handholds were. The only problem was, Pat was 5ft2in and Andy was about 5 ft 8 and not many of their handholds and anchors would be of use to me, 6ft 1in! Great!

I reached in the right crack and gripped as best I could and did the same with my left hand on the other side. I spread my feet, one to either side and pushed against the opposite tubes. Once I was anchored with the feet I would work, first one hand and than the other up, either side of the tube. This took me up 5 ft or so to a point that I saw a nice handhold on the right and worked myself to it. I got a good grip on it, with my right hand and let loose with the left. This allowed me to swing to the right side, where there seemed to be a few hand and foot holds. I didn’t like being all spread out like that.

I started up the crack, both hands walking up it and my feet finding whatever purchases they could. It was grueling work but taking my time, I worked my way up to Pat and Andy. It felt great to know that I could at least get that far! Andy said we had done a fine job and there was no rush.

I do remember that Andy’s only admonishment was that we were climbing too fast. I thought I was slower than heck but he said it is too easy to burn out if we didn’t keep a slow steady pace. I think our ego’s had kicked in and we felt we had to run up the dam thing! 

I clipped my rope into the anchor, d-ring and relaxed. My god it was beautiful from up there. I don’t have a clue how far we were above the trail but I imagine we were up there about 150ft or more by now. The trail looked mighty small by now. It was still too early for anyone but us nuts to be on the trail though.

We stood there, the three of us, on a ledge big enough for one, watching Fred make his assent. This gave us plenty of time to relax and calm down. You get quite an adrenalin rush at times like that and you have to force yourself to slow down. It was a long way to the top yet, and I was to find the hardest was yet to come!

Fred finally made it to the ledge and we did our back patting and attaboys. Andy unclipped from the anchor and headed up the next pitch. It too was straight up, we were to follow the crack, which was only a couple inches wide, at this point. When the opportunity presented itself we would take advantage of any knob or horizontal crack we could get out hands on. We all leaned back on our ropes, as far as we could and watched Andy’s assent. That boy sure made it look easy. He was lugging a video camera across his back, in a protective tube too! The video he took was sure worth the money! 

When Andy reached the next ledge,Pat headed up. He is a short little sucker but all guts. He is strong and fearless. He has a 2nd degree black belt in one of those jap slappin’ sports and cocky as heck. He is a good climber. I watched him to but it was just about the same as the last pitch. Straight up and grab what you can to advance yourself.

I did notice that the right hand crack seemed to open up toward the top but it was a long way up and I could not tell for sure. This pitch had to be 80 ft or so but I can not remember. Pat was climbing well and fast. Fast for rock climbing that is. Andy kept saying, “Slow down, slow down. You guys are gonna burn yourselves out”

Pat reached the top and again, it was my turn. Off I went, slowly grabbing for anything I could to get a solid anchor. As I came to each temporary anchor, that Andy had set, I had to take my safety rope out. Some times this was a chore because I was holding on with two hands, two feet and my teeth. I was plum out of hands to unclip with but I did manage.

I was getting rather tired. My old arms were sure pumped. This is because I am stupid and not a rock climber. Women are good rock climbers because they don’t have a lot of upper body strength so they climb with their legs. This is as it should be because they are the strongest muscle in your body and have a lot of endurance. My arms and upper body is strong, from years of working out with weights but they don’t have much endurance and pump up fast. This is good when you are on a bench but ain’t worth a dam on the face of a big rock, a couple hundred feet from safety.; Oh well, I had it to do!

The way I had climbed the last pitch was the proper way to do it. Slow and easy, spread out like a spider monkey and inch the way up. I was doing fine until I started getting tired. I found a way to rest and still climb. I had gotten within 20 feet of the ledge and was to a point that I need a rest. The right hand crack was about 8 inches wide at this point and I could jam my whole arm in it. It is funny because when I did it all I could think is, I hope there are no wasps in there!

With my right arm jammed in the crack and my left foot in the left crack I brought my right foot over to join the left. This meant my arms were at the right vertical crack and my feet were pressing against the left. I was halfarsed horizontal! Sorta in a relaxed way but sure out of position. I will never forget Andy saying, in a gentil way, while hanging out looking down at my dumb arse, “What you doing?” In mountain climbing talk that means, “You are a dumbarse” but he was very calm about it.

I looked up and even though I didn’t want to tell him I was dying, I said I was resting a bit. He said ok, “But it is gonna be sorta hard climbing like that” What did he know. Is he 55 years old? Senior 55year old mountain climbers climb like this, I was thinking.

I turned my head to look down at Fred and he didn’t look like he was in any hurry to come up. He was quite a way below me and the ground was a Waaaaay down there. I think I could see some tourists now, on the trail, looking up. Maybe it was my imagination. I looked out over the vista and it was incredible. I could see for miles up there.

I heard Andy finally say, in his gentile way, “What you doing?” Still resting says I and he just said OK. Guess that meant, get a move on dumass.

I started inching myself up. I would have liked to have swung around to the normal position but I was so out of position that I was not sure how without falling. I just inched my back up against the right tube and raised my hand higher in the crack and then crossed my left foot over the right one and gained a couple inches. That is the way it went, inch by inch. Andy said it would be easier if I would switch over to facing the wall but frankly, I could not figure out how to make the maneuver! Without falling that is. I may be in a safety harness but that three hundred feet of nothing but air sure looks like a long way and my ego did not want me to fall.

I don’t remember feeling any fear at the time. I was too focused to be afraid. I was focused on how to make that next couple inches. It was getting tough because the distance was getting further between my hand crack and my feet crack.

Andy kept saying, “You are doing fine. You are still climbing too fast. You are doing ok, take it easy” in his slow calm way. To tell the truth, I wanted help but I would not ask. If he had offered, I just might have excepted and to this day I would have been ashamed. He probably knew this too.

I finally got to within about 5 ft of the ledge and was out of handholds. I was streached as far as I could and was screwed, I felt. Andy said that my right hand, now an armslength back into the crack, was with inches of a bucket. That is what a good handhold is called, a bucket. From his advantage point he could easily see what I could not. I asked where and he said a couple inches up. I had to go on faith at that point. I was out of holds and options and I sure was not gonna ask for help now!
I jammed my right hand as far into the crack as I could and it was narrow back there. I was sweating from exertion and it was getting hot. I was pissed at myself too. I reached back in there and made a fist, there was nothing to grip onto at that point. I again asked Andy where the bucket was and he said three inches above my hand but I was out of options. I could not reach it!

I jammed my hand in and made a fist. That jammed it tight. I had never done this but had read about it. I jerked on it and it felt secure.

I lay there with my fist jammed far back into the crack, my legs were about to give out because of the silly way I was streached out horizonal like that. I lay my head against the wall and said to hell with it and dropped my feet loose. I swung like a pendelum =