Climb of the Muir Wall on El Capitan

Chris J. Dunn

We started up the Free Blast section of the Salathe Wall Saturday morning of Memorial Day weekend.  I had previously done the Muir Wall to the point where the Salathe Wall meets it so didn't feel the need to repeat that. We were hauling two very heavy bags and the wall was low angle making this real torture.  We'd attach ourselves to the anchor with about 10-20 feet of slack then using a pulley with a cam stop we'd simultaneously pull ourselves DOWN the haul line by pulling it up on the bag side.  This allowed us to use our full body weight and all the upward pulling strength we could muster.  We had to do this twice per pitch since there was absolutely no way we could have hauled both bags at once.  We were at the top of pitch 8 by 6pm and decided to bivy there even though we had a few hours of daylight left.  We stopped climbing everyday no later than 6.  Both of us agreed that pushing daylight is asking for an epic.

The next day was fairly easy and pleasant climbing and we made it to the top of the Gray Ledges, pitch 16, by 6 and bivied again.  A party of three that had started a day before us passed us on their way back down.  It amazes me how many people will start up a big wall then bail out from half way up.  We knew they wouldn't make it when we talked to them on the ground the day before.  They had to find out for themselves I guess.

Looking down pitch 25 while I was hauling the ledge during the beginning of the snowstorm.  This was also the pitch I fell and hurt my knee on.

On day three we made the traverse right below the Shield at the Triple Direct Junction and bivied in our double wide porta ledge on top of pitch 20 below a hideous slot which I had to lead the next day.  From here on the route had little evidence of previous ascents with grass and flowers growing from the cracks.  It also got much steeper, even overhanging, making the hauling much easier.

On day 4 It took 2 hrs of struggling and many bruises but I made it up the slot while swallows flew in and out of the crack. Jim Led the perfect corner above this then I led an interesting pendulum to a thin crack pitch to the base of what we called the S-cracks.  Jim led up the long sinuous thin crack to a bivy in a slot/grotto.  By the end of this day we were on top of pitch 24.

The weather had been deteriorating and day five dawned looking bad. I started up pitch 25 wearing all the clothes I brought.  About 50 feet up from the belay a bomber looking 1.5 friend pulled out and I took a 20 footer landing on my knee on a small ledge.  My knee wasn't broken but I knew I'd be remembering this for some time to come. It turns out the unit had skidded out on some hard waxy lichen in the crack. What kind of freak luck is that? I continued up to a thin nailing A3 section and was only 30 feet from the belay when it started raining and then snowing.  I quickly lowered back down to the porta ledge where we ate and hung out while the flurries continued.  In a couple of hours it was just snowing lightly on and off so I jugged back up the lead line and finished the pitch.  Jim led the circuitous pitch 26 while I froze belaying.  We hauled the ledge set up so we could belay from inside.  By the time I jugged and cleaned the pitch it was snowing hard.  At sunset a couple of other parties on the wall started hooting and hollering and we joined in as did some people on the ground.

In the am of day 6 there was about 4 inches of snow and hundreds of small icicles hanging from the roofs.  Jim hooted some more but nobody answered this time.  It was my lead. The first piece I placed in the snow filled crack was a number 2 friend.  It pulled out and again I landed back on a ledge. When I looked at the crack again it was now a number three friend size.  A piece of the crack had actually pulled out. My luck. Icicles were falling all over the place but mostly missing us. None of them were very big but I was glad to be wearing a helmet.  We were up in the big dihedrals near the top just left of the Nose with the summit overhangs in sight but the top seemed a mile away.  Jim led another beautiful crack pitch up the huge corner while I froze again belaying.  I suggested he take my next lead in the name of speed since he was clearly on a roll nutting and nailing his way up the thin corner. The pitch was only about a 60 ft. but turned out to have the diciest placements and the worst hanging belay of the whole route. The next pitch was a left traverse under the summit overhangs with a few hook moves ending in another hanging bivy. We were only about 150 feet below the top but had three pitches to go. We tried hooting and hollering to see if anyone else was up there but again there was no reply.

On the morning of day seven I led the double pendulum traverse pitch further left.  This pitch actually ends lower than the previous belay. Jim led the last real pitch beginning in a wet squeeze chimney and the final third class pitch as one 200 footer. Together we did battle with the bags over the lip of El Cap's summit one last time.  Finally, we were on the top shrouded in clouds .

We ate and drank all we could then left the remaining food and water for future epic masters. We set off with 100 pound haul bags on our backs for the hideous descent. Many of the slabs were wet making even the descent a bit of an epic. We reached the road back at the bottom of the valley in 4.5 hours.   My legs were more trashed than they had ever been. My right leg took a serious beating since I had to favor my left knee so much.

Jimmy Gaun and I on top.  Notice he has gloves.  This was just the fraction of our gear we carried on our bodies while leading.

Six and a half days including weather delays isn't bad I guess. It seemed like the actual climbing was inconsequential compared to the hauling and dealing with the weather. It would have been much more fun for me if I had expected snow in June.  I was just surviving for the last few days since I was perpetually cold.  Jim was better dressed and has more experience at wall climbing so he suffered a little less.  My hands also took a beating. Every night they would swell up like two painful paddles.  Just stuffing my sleeping bag in the morning was excruciating.  I was proud of us for continuing to climb. The rescue choppers were flying nonstop for three days and I'm sure many parties bailed off the wall.  It seemed like we were all alone up there on the last two days.  A chopper did finally come to look at us when we were on the second to last pitch. We just waved and they flew away.

If I got anything out of this climb it was the feeling of accomplishment for sticking with it under severe conditions.  I knew we weren't going to die but we weren't having fun either.  My last trip up El Capitan was in 1983 when I had to go down from 1000' up with a severe case of blood poisoning.  I was lucky to make it back alive that time.  The doctor said I'd have been dead in less than 24 hours. So things are actually improving. I can't believe I'm already thinking about going back again. Since we had such bad conditions this time, next time should be great. Right?

Chris J. Dunn

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