RIP Tom Higgins

[Dave]

Just read this on ST today. Happened this morning. Sad sad news.

"I’ve been asked to share very sad news about Higgins. He took his life this morning, and his wife Nancy could use all the support we can give her. Those who were close to them, please reach out if you can. You may email me for contact information at tamara@postpro.net, those with my phone feel free to call."

[NateD]

wow...
 

[susan]

Very sad news - Wonder what all happened! Hopefully we will find out much more.

What a force in the world of climbing, and what an eloquent writer! Godspeed!

 

[susan]

One of Higgins stories which I really appreciate follows: 

I knew Bev from climbing with her some in the 70’s. We did a number of short crack climbs in Yosemite. She had an infectious energy, raw power and determination on the rock which I much admired. I also loved how she handled being a woman climber when there were few and when lots of men were threatened by the thought of a woman entering their prized mostly male sanctuary. She entered the holy place without knocking and blasted around with such confidence and verve it made all the chauvinism look utterly silly.

I have not told the following tale anywhere because it is hardly my proudest moment or hers (I can’t find any writing of hers on the climb either), but Beverley and I did Astroman in the early 80s, nearly coming undone in the process. I was determined to get it free within my old traditional standards of few falls, no hangs and starting over after falls from free stances or pitch starts. I was still in rebellion against style transitions of the day and prone to occasional mad proselytizing on the subject. Beverley respected my desire and knew about my stylistic warring but mostly just wanted to do the climb however we did it. Off we went.

All went well until the Enduro Corner. Beverley tried to lead it but half way up got tired and started hanging for rests. She was angry at herself the more she rested. I was quiet at first, and then in a rising pissy mood protested, “NO AID.” She told me to fuck off. I said we should rap off if we couldn’t do it in good style. She challenged me right back saying something like, “Let’s see you do it right.” Now I was wildly fired up to give it a go, just the mood I needed looking back on it. Down she came and up I went. She was grim faced but I ignored her. We should have talked it out but didn’t. When I was about a third of the way up the corner, she told me she wouldn’t hold me if I fell and I’d just have to start over. “Fine” I yelled back. The camaraderie we had established over several climbs together was falling apart. I found there were a few edges on the right wall allowing rests here and there and managed to get near the end of the corner without a fall before the crack opens up. Suddenly a batch of swallows burst out of the crack into my face and off I went, screaming. Before I could say anything, Beverly, true to her promise and the very rules I touted for the climb, lowered me away to start again.

At the belay ledge I looked at her and said, sheepishly, “It wasn’t my fault!” She looked at me with her soft but penetrating eyes and slowly started to smile, then laugh. Our temper tantrum melted away thanks to her good heart. She, unlike me, was looking beyond the climbing to its meaning for two people who loved the walls. We sat and laughed for several moments. Then, looking over to Half Dome starting to turn golden she slapped my leg and said, “You’re a fucker!” I said back, “I know.” I remember that interchange like it happened yesterday. I guess it was what I needed, because I got the corner next try and Beverly followed it with only one fall and rest, and was fine with it.

Higher, the other remaining challenge for us was the Harding Slot. Beverly wanted a go at leading saying something like, “I want this sucker.” Looking up at it, I was happy to let her give it a go. I had never been on the route and was horrified by the slanting bomb bay look of it. She fired off the lower layback but had trouble getting into the slot.  I told her to come down and try it again, though getting down from such an overhanging thing was not easy. She came back some rope shenanigans, looked out at the waning light and told me to give it a go. Now we were comrades again, trying to get up the wall and get off with whatever combination of climbing worked. Perhaps it was because I was pretty skinny in those years but I found I could get into the slot as it widened without too much effort. The only problem was the minimal protection. In current parlance, I think one needs about a #6 to adequately protect the slot and we had nothing close.

A strange thing happened as Beverley followed: she turned the tables. She tried the chimney part twice without luck, but insisted on down climbing each time to start over. Down climbing the Harding Slot from almost anywhere beyond the beginning probably is harder than climbing up it. I couldn’t tell if she didn’t want to weight the rope or take a big swing. It was getting late. Now I was the one concerned about getting up before dark versus style issues. “Beverley, we’ve got to get going.” Or words to that affect. “Shut up Higgins. We’re doing it your way.” And those words are exactly hers.  Even in my frustrated state I thought, What a woman. Third try she got it.

Above, there are a couple of strenuous laybacking pitches. I remember Beverley zoomed up one of them in waning light (I think it’s called Changing Corners). I got the last pitch in near dark, for me the toughest on the climb. While it’s face climbing, right up my alley, it was hard to see and protect and the rock seemed crumbly. Unlike me, Beverley didn’t whimper about the oncoming dark and try to hurry me. She followed with no problem or comment.

We had lights and got down the descent gully gingerly, feeling wasted and not talking much. The minimal dialog I remember with her, and the last we spoke to one another due to her untimely death, went something like:
“Not the best climb,” I said.
Unfazed, “It was OK.”
More skittering down the gully.
“Sorry I got pissed,” I said.
“OK, fucker.”

Farewell again, Beverly, good and brave soul you were.

Farewell brave soul. 

[mungeclimber]

Oh whoa. Rest well dear sir. Your skill will forever be recognized!

[susan]

I realized after I posted that Higgins story above that someone had posted a truncated version of it on ST beforehand.

Here is another piece written by Higgins and posted by Ed H on ST on the recent Higgins thread:

Tuolumne Meadows
 Tom Higgins
 
 FOR THOSE WHO ENJOY high-angle face climbing in cool, glistening surroundings, the granite domes of Tuolumne Meadows are ideal. Near to Yosemite, but 4,000 feet higher, Tuolumne is a cool alternative to climbing in the heat of a Yosemite summer. Also, in contrast to the smooth grey rock of Yosemite, the granite of Tuolumne is orange, bright and knobby, though sometimes broken by a flashing sheet of smooth glacier polish. Climbing here is an airy, visually titillating experience.
 
 There is only one drawback to climbs on such gorgeous rock. So perfect are the domes that many routes are broken by few if any cracks. Fortunately - or unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint - the established routes without cracks are generally well protected by bolts. If one chooses to use them (virtually everyone does) they first must be found. A certain amount of squinting into the sea of reflective knobs and crystals is necessary to turn up the small hangers on quarter-inch studs.
 
 Tuolumne and Yosemite climbs differ not only in their character and temperature but in their length. The longest climbs in Tuolumne are around 10 to 12 pitches, but most average three to five pitches. As a result, there is plenty of time for beer drinking, swimming' and hiking before or after climbing. A seasonal store and restaurant provide some of the basic food and drink necessary to keep one going.
 
 Tuolumne Meadows is located at 8,000ft in the high country above and north of Yosemite Valley. The area is reached by driving from Yosemite along Tioga Road for about an hour, or until the first view of the large, shining granite domes knocks you out of your car.
 
 First to come into sight while travelling west to east are Polly Dome and its subsidiaries along the north side of the winking Tenaya Lake. Pywiack Dome stands at the east end of the lake and the Pennyroyal Arches to the south. In another few minutes of driving Medlicott Dome, a long low schooner, appears to the south-east. Its highest neighbour, Mariuolumne, is just to the north. Together they hide a shallow lake near their summits. Next, again to the south of the road, appears a soft-looking pyramid, the Lamb. A gradual turn and drop in the road prepares one for the free-floating feeling of encountering Fairview Dome, hovering huge above treetops, isolated from all the rest. Across from Fairview is Daff Dome, named by an  acronym  (Dome  Across From Fairview). The trip ends in another mile or two in Tuolumne Meadows proper, touched off by little Lembert Dome at the east end.
 
 The development of climbing on the beautiful granite domes of Tuolumne Meadows is a story with many paradoxes. In his Climber's Guide to the High Sierra, Steve Roper says Tuolumne is visited by "vast numbers" of hardmen who establish residence there. "Crowded", Roper calls it. In fact, Tuolumne traditionally has not been excessively crowded, as one might expect of such an attractive area. Only recently have many climbers been attracted to Tuolumne. Perhaps this paradox can be explained by another - one of the best rock climbing areas in the country has no guidebook exclusively devoted to it. Except for Roper's Guide to the High Sierra and an old article in Ascent, there are no descriptions to the Tuolumne Domes. Finally, a decade of tradition in climbing style, turned topsy-turvy inside of a few recent years, adds still another irony.
 
 Beginnings
 
 There are probably two reasons why the first long, notable route in Tuolumne did not spur on other climbs until four years later. Chuck Pratt and Wally Reed climbed the Fairview Dome by way of the most central major crack system on the north face in 1958, bivouacking once and using many pitons for aid. Along with a few short routes on Lembert in the 1950s, done by Warren Harding, Dick Leonard and others (including the now famous Water Cracks), the long Pratt-Reed ascent of Fairview was to become a classic and popular climb, but not immediately. First, more interest in face climbing had to develop and second, interest had to be quickened an area lesser in scale and grandeur than Yosemite.
 
 Edging, friction and route-finding techniques, so necessary on the blank faces of Tuolumne, began to develop in Yosemite and Tahquitz to the south shortly after the first major climb in Tuolumne. Bill Amborne, Eric Beck, Jeff Foott, Bob Kamps, and Frank Sacherer, among others, created excellent Yosemite face-climbing routes on Glacier Point Apron and/or Cathedral Rocks, beginning in 1960. Then, in 1962, some of the best California climbers  were   to  visit Tuolumne, diverging from climbs where the   greatest  prestige  and  interest centred - Yosemite aid walls and smooth crack climbs.
 
 The stage was therefore set for 1962 and 1963. In these years Bob Kamps and Mort Hempel freed the Pratt-Reed route on Fairview, though not in a style which was to credit them with a first free ascent. Kamps followed one pitch free on which Hempel used one pin of aid leading. Frank Sacherer and Wally Reed climbed West Crack (5. on Daff Dome in 1963. This intimidating but moderate climb probably  attracted crack-man Sacherer because it follows an unbroken 400ft sliver on the west face. However, delicious knob climbing, not jamming, characterises this climb and makes it a perfect introduction to Tuolumne rock.
 
 The Great White Book (5.6) on Stately Pleasure Dome, another now-popular climb following an unmistakable left-facing open book, was done by Hope Morehouse, Jim Baldwin and Jeff Foott in 1962. In the same year Wally Reed and Glen Denny climbed the Inverted Staircase on Fairview Dome, and a year later Kamps and Reed freed this route (5.10). Perhaps Kamps had more than his usual one or two cups of morning coffee. He eased up the crux lead like smoke, but with no puff. To this day, the three-step arch pitch turns back top climbers and has limited the current ascent total to perhaps half a dozen.
 
-to be continued next post-

Mountain 60, 1978

[susan]

 - Continued -

Plum years -- 1965-70
 
 A few of the climbers who first nervously toed on to the Tuolumne walls and felt the cool, deep blue air knew a decade or more of face climbing might be beginning. All was not certain - whether one could stand on knobs and edges long enough to place protection bolts on sections of crackless walls, or whether the sense of teetering was pleasure or fear or what. But the beauty of it all, the weakening inside at tilting back to see oceans of rock, this feeling of being propelled around - up, down, or was it away - this convinced some to try a dose of Tuolumne rock, cracked and crackless.
 
 One of the first to take too strong a dose  of crackless  rock was Tom Gerughty. Tom, his camera eye far in front of his climbing eye, chose to follow the lovely white crystal strings on Pywiack Dome. Perhaps he hoped for a path of friendly crystals. He set out in 1966 with Dave Meeks and Roger Evja. Tom had not placed bolts before from small stances and found he could not stop at hard sections to do so. He trembled up and up on the continuous last pitch, afraid to go on, afraid to go down. The drill dangled uselessly from his side. At the end of the last pitch, he risked a 200ft slab-splashing fall. Shaking violently, he somehow made the move. Since Tom's ordeal and with his permission, one or two more bolts have been added to make the climb (5. a sane, though scary, venture.
 
 The Dike was the aesthetic plum on Pywiack, following the sinuous crystal dikes on the north face. It was a pivotal climb as well, for it alerted other climbers to the possibilities and risks of venturing on to crackless Tuolumne rock. The lesson was well taken. Between 1965 and 1970, climbers - including Gerughty - took the main arches and grooves of Tuolumne Domes. Only now and then were totally crackless areas climbed, and usually only between cracks. The resulting routes are some of the most pleasing to be found anywhere. The Hobbit Book (5.7) is a striking dihedral route on Mariuolumne, where the climbing is on chickenheads and waves of orange rock. Topping off the route is a hidden, highly reflective lake just over the summit.
 
 Many of the lines following cracks on Medlicott were also done in this period, the finest being the Yawn (5.9), the Coming (5.9) and Chartres (5.9). The Yawn, done first by TM Herbert and Gordon Webster and freed later by Phil Bircheff, is the only long chimney and crack climb in Tuolumne. Some mysterious order in things has put the most elegant dihedral in the Sierra at the top of this climb. Chartres, done by Kamps and me, is an ethereal line connecting several long arches. When we first climbed the route we arrived at dusk below an enveloping roof at the top, utterly stymied. At the very last we found the secret -- a thick dike glowing around the roof corner.
 
 On Daff Dome, the prominent Crescent Arch began a rating debate in Tuolumne. When Layton Kor and Fred Becky first climbed the route in 1965, neither had much experience with Tuolumne rock. Without the confidence to use the many small crystals and edges, they nailed much of the route. Kamps and Herbert soon after climbed it free, calling the climb 5.9. Robbins disagreed. He called the route 5.10 because the final pitch is so sustained. Kamps disagreed. He claimed that ratings should be tied to sections, not pitches, and that Crescent has no 5.10 sections. Some, including me, have tended toward the Kamps method of rating, while other climbers have not. Thus, rating disagreements stemming from section versus pitch arguments still surround such notable routes as Piece de Resistance, the Vision, and Lucky Streaks. This confusion affects primarily the 5.10 and 5.11 climbs, as it probably does everywhere.
 
 Gradually, many crack systems, buttresses, roofs and other prominent features were climbed in this period, and even several crackless faces. Rawl Drive (5.9), Nerve Wrack Point (5. and Vision (5.9) represent examples of lovely, sustained routes on glistening, golden rock made possible by bolts placed on lead from difficult stances.
 
 Here we learned there is no trick to bolt placements from small stances. All one can do is twist, hammer, twist, hammer, stop, hold that flake, free one foot, shake it, free the other, shake it, twist, hammer. In time, the calves bulge, then break through a pain barrier. Ten to 20 minutes later, the bolt is ready to clip through. A lead involving several bolt placements might take a couple of hours. After placing several bolts, the common method of resting was to come down to the last decent stance, rest there, then climb back up and continue until it was possible to stop to place another bolt. It soon became possible to stop in the middle of 5.8 or even 5.9 moves.
 
 Phobus and Deimos (both 5.8 or 5.9) are crack climbs up steep walls and over roofs made possible, even moderate, by knobs and edges. On Deimos, TM Herbert sat below the climb screaming that Gerughty and I should come down off our first ascent. TM said a block was moving on to us, but we kept on trusting the rock over TM. It turns out there are no moving rocks on Deimos. Lucky Streaks (5.9 or 5.10) follows an inspiring, wispy crack system on Fairview. Kamps and I both had several bowel movements before starting this climb, but again, shining gold knobs allowed us to shake along this preposterous line, all in one day with no shenanigans. Thy Will Be Done follows a step over a roof where an undercling can squash your nose into the ceiling as you jig along. Many of these now-classic routes were done by only a handful of climbers in the '60s, probably because there was little information about routes and some exaggerated stories about route difficulty.
 
 Approximately 50 routes were done between 1965 and 1971, and three or four climbers figured in well over half of them. Tom Gerughty, Bob Kamps, TM Herbert and I climbed in Tuolumne in this period without much notice and with an abundance of new route possibilities. An article or two in Ascent and the American Alpine Club Journal told something of Tuolumne climbs, but no formal guidebook developed. Certain climbs, Lucky Streaks and Chartres for example, became known as deadly routes and were unrepeated for three years after the first ascents.
 
 TM Herbert probably did much to scare climbers away with his rubber-faced, wide-eyed tales of first ascents. Swigging a beer and pacing intensely, he would say: "God, you should have seen them," (referring to some first ascent team) "their butts quivering, no place to stop, no protection except for some dinky bolt ... I yelled to 'em over and over there was nothing to go for and no way to reach the ground, and they'd better just jump, but they wouldn't listen . . ."
 
To Be Continued Next Post
 Mountain 60, 1978

[susan]

Continued

The controversial '70s The 1970s in Tuolumne have thus far been marked by many new routes, much debate about the appropriateness of guides and articles on Tuolumne, and some arguments about ethical standards. The most active climbers of recent times in Tuolumne are Dale Bard, Bob Harrington and Vern Clevenger. They have created perhaps 30 fine new climbs in Tuolumne since 1970. Vern kept (and still keeps) an informal guidebook to Tuolumne which is passed around only to a few other climbers for fear of attracting too many climbers to the area. Vern initially contributed portions of an early draft of this article, but decided: "I just don't think it belongs in Mountain." Perhaps Vern also feels, as I do, that it is difficult to be objective about a place one has climbed in so much. Yet Vern has contributed considerable information about route development in the 1970s which is presented here, though I must take full responsibility for any misrepresentations. And we have discussed continuously the pros and cons of several recent climbing styles which stand in sharp contrast to the methods of the 1960s.
 
 The main ethical debate between climbers of the 1960s and 1970s has revolved around a transition in specific climbing style. Until 1971 and 1972, the prevailing belief was that aid climbing was not desirable, even though it occurred. I recall Kamps and I turned back at least twice from a route on Fairview Dome which seemed to require aid to surmount a 20ft roof above Crescent Ledge. More strong than the unwritten rule against aid was that 1960s prohibition against: (1) pre-protection (placing protection on rappel or on aid, then free-climbing); (2) previewing (rehearsing moves on rappel or with a top rope); (3) doctoring (fixing chock-stones, chopping holds); and (4) sieging (on climbs, team members following on jumars or on fixed ropes for easy returns to high points, and on pitches, lowering by the rope, then hand-walking it to the high point).
 
 Before 1971, norms excluded these methods, but after 1971 ethical preferences changed. In the years subsequent to 1971 aid climbing, pre-protection, previewing and sieging, though not doctoring, have become more acceptable in Tuolumne.
 
 On Pywiack Dome, Royal Robbins and Chris Vandiver did Boa (5.10 or 5.11, A4 or A5) in 1972, and aid and free climb surmounting a roof on the north face. That same year, a line of bolts obviously placed on aid appeared on the beautiful golden wall on the southern margin of Medlicott. There is still uncertainty about who placed this aid ladder. The Plastic Exploding Inevitable aided the giant roofs above Crescent Ledge on Fairview, a particular disappointment to climbers of the sixties who had left the roof unaided expecting someone someday would climb it free.
 
 Also disturbing to those holding to 1960s Tuolumne ethics were cases of previewing, pre-protecting and sieging. Some routes involving one or more of these tactics include Mr Toad's Wild Ride, Shambles,  Hoodwink, Death  Crack, Wailing Wall, Handbook, Crying Time Again, and Willie's Hand Jive.
 
 Climbers of both eras have sometimes made fools of themselves defending one or another style. About 1974, I chopped the bolts on Hand Jive because they were placed on rappel and lectured one of the ascent team. Thinking about it afterwards, I felt pretty foolish, but soon found company in the den of fools when the bolts were replaced on rappel, this time more than last! Chris Vandiver reports that arguments continue about the route, and in one case climbers nearly came to blows. Perhaps Werner Braun holds the answer. He chose to climb a route not far from Hand Jive by doing it solo and in work boots. Werner's Wiggle is 5.8, not bad for Werner's first climb!
 
 However many of the recent routes were originally done, several lines of the 1970s offer fine challenges to climbers no matter what their ethical preferences. For face climbers who crave bursts of on tiny edges and glossy knobs, Polly Dome and vicinity are a must. There is Get Slick (5.10) just to the right of the classic Great White Book. And nearby are Piece of Grass (5.10+) and Sweet Nothings (5.10+), just a notch up on the jitter scale from Get Slick. Finally, Dreams (5.11+) and Golden Bars (5.11) are currently the most touchy short face climbs. Climbers who do these routes will look over to the Dike and smile at the thought of Gerughty trembling. Yet the route they are on would not have been possible without the Dike and other climbs, each of which pointed and forever points to the next head-swimming possibility.
 
 In the category of roof problems, several stand out. Jim Bridwell and Roger Breedlove  climbed  Hoodwink  on Harlequin Dome to create that upside-down feeling until a bucket is reached. The roof is followed by a bolt ladder which was placed on aid and then freed immediately. Other climbers felt the ladder wasn't necessary and fewer bolts would have been adequate. Wailing Wall is a roof problem of much more serious nature than Hoodwink. Here, fierce underclinging and jamming on the crux pitch provide plenty of scare. Initially called 5.12, the roof was protected on aid, then slowly but surely freed.
 
 Uh-Uh on Fairview provides a comic relief roof. Imagine a 25ft ceiling which looks impassable but is only 5.3! Unfortunately, getting to the roof is not so pleasant. TM Herbert nearly lost his life (again) on the third ascent, when he was deceived by the devious second (or it is third?) pitch. Sixty feet out in the middle of nowhere and in the midst of incessant whimpering, TM finally placed a bolt. Boa on Pywiack has a roof which resists a free ascent, no matter how defined. Clevenger strained his back on the route and sieged it, but to no avail.
 
 Crack climbing in Tuolumne took off in the 1970s. In 1972 Bridwell and Breedlove climbed Handbook on Whizz Dome to create a 5.11 hand and finger problem. Hints of resting on protection still surround stories of the first ascent. Several years passed before a second ascent, done in reportedly better style. Oz takes an appalling bold crack line on a small dome below Marioulumne. Done in 1975 by Bard and Locke, the route might be the steepest in Tuolumne, a truly dizzy experience.
 
 Reportedly, two aid bolt ladders were employed to protect a headwall which was then free-climbed, all below the main dihedral. Also, the entire route was fixed with ropes to allow easy up and down access.
 
 Death Crack (5.11) on Stately Pleasure Dome provides the overhanging fist and off-
 width challenge in the area. After being top-roped by Clevenger and others for two years, it was led in 1976. So overhanging is this crack that the toprope swing is worse than a leader fall! The experience of sailing toward Tenaya Lake horizontally is like hang gliding. Blues Riff (5.11+) on Polly Dome is Bard's contribution to Tuolumne crack climbing. Ten tries over two years and much pre-protection finally created this horrendous route.
 
 In the category of long climbs, the best are on Fairview and Medlicott. Probably the best of all is Piece de Resistance (5.10 or 5.11) on Fairview Dome. I usually am restless the night before first ascents, but for this one I flipped and flopped in my bag from dusk to dawn. Clevenger, on the other hand, showed up at sunrise with his usual relaxed yawn. He and Harrington had been working on the crux headwall pitch some weeks before and could perhaps be more casual. But I also knew they had had to use aid at one point on the headwall and it was not certain it could be eliminated.
 
 I voted for a haul bag with extra shoes, water, food and sleeping bags so as to allow us a good chance at the climb. We hauled lots of junk none of which we ever needed, but all of which helped our buzzing brains. The aid went free, resulting in steep, ceaseless edging up one 5.10 move after another. Because of the quality of the rock, its aesthetic features and the continual blaze of varied difficulty, this route is my favourite in Tuolumne.
 
 Near Piece de Resistance is Mr Toad's Wild Ride, a multi-year effort by Clevenger and others, sieged and aided but eventually freed. An enormous left-facing dihedral (not part of the climb) marks the general line. Here again, the action is superb steep face climbing on rock which sparkles in the afternoon sun. Also nearby are Fairest of All and the Plastic Exploding Inevitable, two other grade V's on Fairview. The latter involves some aid climbing over roofs high on the climb. Freeing the roofs should be ample challenge for the next few years. These are undulating, inverted bulges with few decent cracks. Fairest of All hooks too wildly right at its middle to be a completely satisfying climb, but does involve some intricate, fun pitches before deviating right. When Mike Irwin and I first did this climb in 1973, darkness forced us to rush one pitch below the prominent bowl on the route. I recall climbing a fair amount of 5.8 some 50ft out where a bolt was needed. Reportedly, a subsequent ascent team has added a bolt or two to make this pitch safe.
 
 On Medlicott, a couple of medium length face routes stand out as good examples of climbs of the seventies. Clevenger reports Shambles (5.11+) "has got to be the most continuously scary long climb in the Meadows." Here Vern rediscovered the pull of excitement and push of fear which underlie all the greatest Tuolumne first ascents. After steep, unprotected face climbing, he was tugged ever closer to the gold wall, a dead vertical, deeply coloured sheet of rock on the right edge of Shambles. "I felt pulled toward it, as if the route had to finish on its margin. Jesus, there you are 700ft from the ground, with the sun glowing from above and below you."
 
 The right edge of the gold wall marks Sweet Jesus (5.9), a pleasant excursion on fabulous rock, though a little devious toward the top. More fun, but shorter, is Ciebola (5.10), done last year just to the right of Sweet Jesus. Clevenger reports this is an "instant classic…" with three parties waiting in line for the climb two days after the first ascent". A three foot wide swath of knobs and good bolt protection make this the most joyous of the climbs on Medlicott.
 
 Looking back and ahead
 
 Among the many climbs done in Tuolumne, perhaps a few stand out as the most satisfying and challenging. For face climbers, the Vision and Get Slick are satisfying short climbs in the hard, but not hardest, category. For the hardest, Golden Bars and Wrinkle in Time are two short-climb challenges, with Mr Toad's, Shambles and Piece de Resistance in the long, hard category. Crack climbers will enjoy Phobus and Deimos in the moderate category, and Handbook, Death Crack and Blues Riff in the hardest category. And for classic, moderate routes (5.9 or below), there are the regular route on Fairview Dome, West Crack on Daff Dome, the Dike on Pywiack, the Hobbit Book on Marioulumne and Water Cracks on Lembert Dome.
 
 Obviously the style of ascent is important information in Tuolumne. For those coming to the area uninformed, it is important to know if the hardest routes have been done with or without previewing, rehearsing, pre-protection or sieging. If climbers are led to believe a route has been done without pre-protection or rehearsing, for example, they will find the going unexpectedly difficult, if not dangerous ("sandbagged" describes the predicament of those in trouble on a route because of incomplete information). They may also believe Tuolumne is filled with anti-gravity climbers.
 
 I think all of this points to the need for honesty in reporting ascent styles. Thus the accompanying list of selected climbs makes an attempt to provide at least some information about climbing styles, as has the discussion of routes. I am not certain all of this information is correct or comprehensive, and I must take full responsibility for any errors.
 
 What about the future of climbing and ethics in Tuolumne? One of the most active climbers in recent years, Vern Clevenger, sums it up this way: "The leading climbers, and their ideas, have combined to form an ever-changing style of climbing employed on first ascents. This style is only transformed into 'appropriate ethical behaviour' as time passes away, and only those who change with it are doing the best new routes as the years go by. The majority of the best routes have now been done, but there is always a new gem waiting just around the corner or back behind that dome.
 
 "Obviously, no one has the right to tell another climber how to climb as long as the rock is not hurt… Historically, climbers move on to new places as they come to the conclusion that at least for them personally there just is not anything left worth doing anymore in an area such as Tuolumne. Most realize that they are merely eliminating problems, 'murdering the impossible', rather than solving anything.
 
 "All climbers, especially those who are not yet at this point, have a responsibility to consider whether we really need another route which requires all of the aforementioned devious means of progress and maybe some new methods made up on the spot, for example the use of a bat-hook or quickie bolt in a shallow hole for tension so that a good bolt can be placed. Certainly, there are some excellent remaining possibilities left, but maybe all those days of terrifying strenuous effort could be expended elsewhere. Endless possibilities await the climber who journeys just a few hours away from the Meadows. For me, it is far more satisfying to do a new grade V on a virgin wall than to spend five days on a two-pitch route which barely manages to avoid easy climbing on either side.
 
 "Closer to home, there are some climbs which could be redone in better style. The fixed protection, placed on aid, could be removed from the Wailing Wall, Death Crack, Boa and others so that their true difficulties can be dealt with. Far short of this extreme, however, lie hundreds of good routes to have a great time on, which after all is the whole point of climbing in the first place."
 
 I have three thoughts about the future of Tuolumne. First, I hope climbers doing new routes in the future will be explicit about the style of their ascents. I think a guidebook should evolve and should contain a section about the style of ascents. This will allow future climbers to know about styles and their transformations and, based on complete information, decide for themselves what is an appropriate approach. Of course a guidebook might generate some new demand for climbing, but demand is already on the upswing and is driven by forces beyond the control of any Tuolumne devotees. Another obvious advantage of a guidebook is it would alert people to what has been done. There has already been an instance of a party claiming a first ascent where their route had been done a decade ago (the west faces of Cottage or Erratic Domes were climbed in 1968).
 
 Second, to echo Clevenger, I suggest the greatest challenges of coming years are in doing certain routes in the traditional style of the '60s, rather than searching out still more lines between lines. There is just more magic per mile in climbing without lots of lowering, jumaring, aiding and the rest. Speaking about another climbing area, Eldorado Canyon, Jim Erickson has well stated a similar message in the book Climb!
 
 Third, whatever sense or order one seeks in Tuolumne climbing, whatever direction anyone tries to give it, always seems doomed. The future there, as the past, will undoubtedly remain unpredictable and paradoxical. From the frustration and satisfaction of having no guide to the Meadows, to the hope for few visitors but enough to appreciate one's own routes, to the climbing in one style while idealising another, the future of Tuolumne will be as befuddling as the fear and elation Gerughty must have felt when he first shook upward on that thin, white web of Tuolumne rock.
 
 Mountain 60, 1978