Trip Report: The Nose, El Capitan

I (Todd) climbed the Nose with my brother Mark in early June 2011. I had wanted to climb it for more than 10 years. Soon before I graduated from high school, my friend Carter convinced me to do it with him. He had zero big wall climbing experience and I had climbed only one big wall: “Prodigal Son” on the Northeast face of Angels Landing, which is only one third the length of the Nose. Our plan was to train by doing a few multi-pitch routes near home, go down to Zion and climb Prodigal Son (for his first time), and then attempt the Nose. Because we would be climbing in Zion in the heat of summer, we made up something called “heat training”, which lasted a day. It involved wearing layers of winter clothing to our highschool classes and drinking nothing but warm water from a thermos. It was more about doing something novel to get a reaction from our peers, and less about training. On our way down to Zion, our car broke down, which gave Carter’s parents an excuse to step in and forbid him from doing any more training.  It was probably for the better because based on our training plan we wouldn't have been well prepared to climb the Nose.

Internet photo showing the Nose. The first 600 feet are out of view.

Summer 2010, a decade later, I got a text message from my little brother Mark who also didn't have any big wall experience.  He asked if I’d want to climb the Regular Northwest Face of Half Dome. I was interested but as we talked more about it we decided for various reasons to go for the Nose instead. For a month we trained in Little Cottonwood a couple times a week and climbed longer multi-pitch routes on the weekends. Then we spent 10 days in Yosemite in October where we climbed the East Buttress of El Capitan, the South Face of Washington Column (in 2 days), and the first four pitches of the Nose, among other routes. Our training was going reasonably well so we scheduled a return trip for the first part of June when we’d attempt the Nose. We picked early June for its long days and typically ideal weather. Scheduling vacation from work is always a gamble when the weather is such a critical factor, so doing it in June seemed to put the odds in our favor. The only downside of June is that it may be the most popular time of year to climb the Nose, so dealing with crowds becomes a major issue. In the Spring we resumed our training by climbing Touchstone Wall in Zion, the desert tower Jah Man in Castle Valley, and lots of shorter routes in Little Cottonwood.

Spring 2011 turned out to be relatively wet and cold, even in Yosemite where one climber claimed it was the worst spring in 20 years. The forecast was so bad that we delayed our trip a few days despite not being able to add them to the end of the trip. Mark, Britt, and I headed out on Saturday, June 4 and drove through heavy rain in the Sierra Nevadas. Our cloth roof bag actually did well keeping things dry. The Tioga Pass was still closed so we drove the 13 hour route, passing through Sacramento. We had a camp site reserved in Yosemite Valley that night.

We crammed ourselves and all the gear into

my trusty Civic Hatchback

Sunday morning we got up early and stood in line to snag a site in Camp 4. The rainy weather had driven all the crowds away from the valley, so there were plenty of vacant sites there. We were glad to see the sun shine and dry out most of the rock by early afternoon. Climbers all around Camp 4 immediately started racking up and heading out to the crags and we decided to follow suit. Three parties were already starting up the Nose, so we decided to kill some time in Yosemite Village until the log jam cleared up. Back in El Cap meadow, as we were racking up, a group of Japanese tourists approached us treating us like celebrities, and took a group photo with us.

The pitches average about 120 feet each. I’m at Belay 1 and Mark is leading Pitch 2.  Britta Hammond photo.

Around 4:30pm, Mark and I scrambled up to the start of Pitch 1 (P.1). I led the first pitch and unfortunately found that the crack was very wet, which made it take longer and feel more difficult and tedious than the last time I climbed it. Mark led P.2 and took a couple falls but wasn’t fazed by them. He then had to wait 15 minutes for a party of three North Carolinians ahead of us to clear off from the belay station so he could fix the lead rope for me to ascend. Mark also led P.3 and, again, we had to wait for the party of three. By the time I started to lead P.4 the sun was setting. P.4 is technically the most difficult of all 31 pitches to aid climb and I was a little nervous about the dimming light so I climbed it with more aggression, remembering the beta from the last time I climbed it.

Lightning in Yosemite Valley. Britt took this photo while we were finishing Pitch 4.  Britta Hammond photo.

By the time I got onto Sickle Ledge, it was dark, other than flashes of lightning from a thunderstorm that was brewing. The thunder was rumbling through the valley and I was quickly fixing the lead rope for Mark and setting up the rappel. Meanwhile, team North Carolina was getting ready to do the 600’ rappel and fix their ropes with only one headlamp between the three of them. Mark had some problems cleaning P.4 because a loop of his rope got snagged below him. While he was still coming up I was sure that we were about to get drenched by rain so I put my rain gear on and worked feverishly at untangling a gigantic knot that had mysteriously formed in one of the ropes. By the time Mark reached the belay station, I had sorted through everything and we were able to start rappelling. The thunder and lightning fizzled out without ever releasing more than a few drops of rain, so I took my time fixing our three 60 meter ropes to the ground. Britt was waiting for us at the car in El Cap Meadow with a pot of pasta for me and Mark to share.

Rain was forecasted for the next day (Monday) so we decided to make it a rest day other than hauling our bags up to Sickle Ledge in the evening and rappelling back down. The North Carolinians said they didn’t mind us starting up the Nose extra early (ahead of them) Tuesday morning, so our plan was to wake up at 3:30 am to ascend our fixed lines by headlamp and commit to the whole route. Unfortunately my alarm clock didn’t go off and we all slept in until around seven. This of course ruined our plans to get a head start and beat all the crowds of climbers that would converge on the Nose that day. All the rainy weather caused a pent up demand to climb the Nose, and it was the first day of a forecast calling for at least a week of beautiful weather.

We decided to go investigate the action on the Nose anyway, racking up in case there was an opportunity to jump on the route. We arrived at the base of our fixed lines and saw a few parties just past Sickle Ledge and the North Carolinians at Sickle, slowly hauling their bags up. A party of two Japanese showed up ready to ascend their ropes up to Sickle and there were a few other parties climbing the first pitches, nearing Sickle. It was the typical cluster of crowds on the Nose, and I didn’t feel like adding to the mayhem on Sickle Ledge, especially so late in the day. I suggested getting an early start the next morning. Mark was more inclined to just jump on right then and get started before the route got even more crowded. We had a portaledge which meant we wouldn’t have to worry about making it to a bivy ledge before dark. We stood there for what seemed like hours, debating about what to do. Finally I insisted that it was too late to start and we started hiking back to the car. Mark still wanted to jump on and I started having doubts about waiting. After 10 minutes of hiking I gave in, turned around, and started quickly hiking back up. Mark gladly joined in and Britt trailed behind, probably confused by my erratic behavior.

Debating at the base of our fixed lines

We ascended our fixed ropes up to Sickle around noon, letting the extra ropes fall down for Britt to collect. The North Carolinians were right in front of us and already having problems hauling their bags. I led P.5 and P.6, linking them together and wedged myself inside a corner at the top of the Sickle formation just 15’ below the hanging belay station occupied by the three North Carolinians. I waited there for a long time while the team argued about their hauling woes. Eventually they decided to bail and while lowering their bags back down to Sickle Ledge, one of their bags somehow clipped into a #00 Metolius cam that I had placed in a crack. Mark teamed up with one of the North Carolinians to free the bags which probably weighed 150 pounds. My cam was destroyed in the process.

Team North Carolina’s haul bags being lowered to Sickle Ledge

By late afternoon the North Carolinians were on their way down and Mark and I were ready to start P.7. A party of climbers (Laura from Colorado and Andrew from South Africa) joined us at the already-crowded hanging belay. They assumed that Mark and I were going to move slowly and said they planned to pass us. But Mark was already leading and probably surprised them by quickly climbing a variation linking the next two pitches that traverse into the Stovelegs. The wind picked up by then and made our ropes and aiders constantly whip around and get tangled. Mark hauled up the bags while I lowered them out toward the Stovelegs. It was necessary to lower the bags out because otherwise they would swing into a corner and possibly burst open. By the time I jugged the lead rope up to Mark we were parched because neither of us had drank anything since breakfast. We opted not to bring personal hydration packs because we had a haul bag, but it really drained our energy to go long periods of time without drinking despite the cool temperatures. With Laura and Andrew well behind us we took the time to rehydrate and snack before moving on.

Mark cleaning a pitch in the Stovelegs

I led an amazing long pitch of perfect hand jams up the Stoveleg Crack. The crack size stayed the same for the bulk of the pitch, which forced me to back clean most of my protection. By the end of the pitch, I was extremely tired from all the back cleaning so I resorted to some hang-dogging. As Mark led P.9, thick clouds moved in and shrouded the summit. Just as he finished the pitch, it started to pour rain. We were both wearing rain jackets because of the cold wind, but we didn’t expect rain that day. Mark and I helplessly hung at our stations, 130 feet apart, getting drenched, even in parts under our rain jackets. Growing sheets of water ran down the wall. Mark happened to be in a bad spot that funneled a small waterfall directly over him. After about 20 minutes, rain turned to hail and then died down enough for us to act. We could have made it to the big ledge on Dolt Tower that evening had it not rained but now our only concern was to get dry and warm because the temperature was dropping into the 40's.

Mark nearing the top of Pitch 9 just minutes before we got hit by a rain storm

Britt came in on the two way radio to tell us she was headed back to camp for the night and, surprisingly, didn’t seem too concerned about us. In contrast I felt that a long and chaotic night was only beginning. However, I tried to keep my cool and objectively relate the facts to her: we got wet and we might have to bail if conditions didn’t improve. Britt interjected with “No!, don’t bail!” As I learned later, “don’t bail” was the advice some big wall veterans wanted her to pass on to us earlier that day. Somebody said that 60% of first attempts on the Nose end in retreat, and in most cases the reasons are psychological.  So in other words, the advice was to not give in to our fears. 

Immediately after talking to Britt I pulled out the portaledge to set it up and unfortunately the wind picked up at the same time. Trying to set up a portaledge from a hanging belay in the wind has to be one of the most frustrating and futile tasks I’ve ever attempted. The Metolius portaledge has been described as "cantankerous," even without wind, so when it starts behaving like a kite you’re better off saving your energy. It took me about 20 minutes of wrestling with the portaledge, being whipped around like a rag doll, to realize it wouldn't work. The gusts of wind wouldn’t let up long enough to make any progress and it was already dark, so I yelled up to Mark and told him to rappel down so we could bail. I was really disappointed to admit failure, but there seemed to be no other safe option. By the time I got everything packed up, the wind died down significantly and Mark was still setting up his rappel, so I decided to unpack the portaledge again and give it another try. This time I got it set up – we wouldn’t have to bail! I basked in an emotional high with my triumph over the portaledge and bragged up to Mark just as he was rappelling down.  Back up he went to fix the ropes so we could ascend them the next morning.  By the time he made it back down I had unpacked the haul bag and changed into dry clothes. We ate a warm dinner and talked to Britt again over the radio.

Wednesday morning we woke up at first light, took care of business, and racked up. We could see the lower pitches of the Nose being populated, including a “Nose-in-a-Day” team quickly approaching us. By the time we were ready to climb, they were at our belay station, so we waited 20 minutes for them to pass. During this time Mark dropped his fancy new helmet while applying sun block with the chin strap unbuckled. We later radioed Britt and asked her to find it on the ground but somebody beat her to it. I linked P.10 and P.11 to Dolt Tower, again having to back clean long stretches of a fist-size crack. I felt that this pitch was the most physically draining of all pitches I led on the Nose. The hauling was also difficult because of severe rope drag over Dolt Tower and invisible features that snagged the haul bag.

On top of Dolt Tower we relaxed for a while and laid out clothes to dry. Then a party of climbers ahead of us bailed from El Cap Tower because they weren’t moving as fast as they needed to, so we had to wait for them to get down past us. Mark linked P.12 and P.13 and I led the remaining pitch to El Cap Tower where an Austrian team was on an intersecting route. Mark then led the Texas Flake which is a 40’ long squeeze chimney protected by one bolt half way up. I led the Boot Flake pitch, taking a short fall when a nut placement popped out.

A shot taken by Andrew of Mark in action on the King Swing

Mark lucked out again with another money pitch, the King Swing off of Boot Flake. I lowered him down 70-100’ until there was a big enough radius for him to do a massive pendulum to a crack out left. He gave it several attempts, each time asking to be lowered a few more feet. Once or twice while running along the wall he slipped on the rock and tumbled out of control. After six or seven attempts, he made it over and slowly climbed back up a wet crack system about 50’ to my left. By the time he reached belay 17, it was dark. After the bags were hauled over to his station, I rappelled out and ascended the lead rope to clean the pitch. Belay 17 turned out to be a terrible spot for a portaledge because it was located in a big low-angled scoop. Instead of killing a bunch of time by rappelling to a more accomodating station, we gave it a try. Just when we seemed to get it level, the portaledge would shift on us. I tested a large flake of rock above and to the right of us to see if we could use it for an anchor, but was shocked to feel the flake move! We settled for the unstable but bolted belay station. The haul bag was pinched such that we couldn’t access all of our bivy gear without a ridiculous amount of effort. I knew we wouldn’t get much, if any, sleep that night and wondered if we would be too tired to keep climbing the next day. As we tried to figure things out, Britt came in on the radio to check in and say good night. She sounded so cozy on the valley floor and I tried to sound optimistic.  I slept on the outer edge which was sloped down and away from the wall. Therefore Mark ended up sliding down onto me. We spooned all night which, although uncomfortable, actually had the benefit of keeping us somewhat warm without access to our pads and bivy sacks. As expected we got very little sleep that night.

Our terrible Wednesday night bivy

Yosemite Valley on Wednesday night. A speck of light from our headlamps is visible halfway up the Nose.  Britta Hammond photo

Thursday morning I am seen taking down the red portaledge. Other climbers are on the Boot Flake. Tom Evans photo

Thursday morning was very cold and our hands were swollen and sore, but after the morning routine I felt surprisingly energized to keep climbing. I belayed Mark from the portaledge while he led P.18/19 to the optional belay. We left our haul bag there and traversed through the Grey Bands to Camp IV. Mark led P.21 which leads up and right to the base of the Great Roof pitch and then we hauled our bags up from where we left them. At this point two Nose-in-a-Day parties passed us. One of them was a really young guy named Mason who was climbing solo.

Mark cleaning the Great Roof

Looking down 2,000 feet from Belay 22.

I led the Great Roof pitch and Mark led the famous Pancake Flake which features spectacular and exposed free climbing up a juggy flake. Half way up he passed a ledge and then began aid climbing a difficult section when his cam hook popped out of the crack. He took a 10-15’ fall upside down, coming to a stop not far above the ledge. He hadn’t been wearing a helmet since he lost his, so after that we started being more dilligent about having the leader wear my helmet. I led P.24 which featured a nasty flaring crack in a deep corner. I groveled my way up to the complex of natural ledges known as Camp V - climbing shoes would have been nice on that pitch. We set up the portaledge next to the largest of the natural ledges and enjoyed the extra space to move around. Britt lost her two way radio that day so we hadn’t heard from her. We did see a head lamp from El Cap Meadow flashing on and off but didn’t flash back because we didn’t know it was her. She later told us that it was her, and everybody on the wall except us flashed her back. As usual we didn’t get to bed until after midnight and had to wake up at first light to stay ahead of the crowds below. The sleep we did get was blissful.

Friday morning at Camp V

On Friday morning our hands were even more swollen and sore. It took a while before I could even close them all the way. Mark led up to the Glowering Spot and then I led up to Camp VI. Laura and Andrew caught up to us and I chatted with them at the Camp VI ledge while Mark led the Changing Corners pitch. This pitch took a very long time partly because it was so wet and mossy. Mark also used the beta that made him go a harder and longer way that cuts right into the corner before reaching the top of the bolt ladder. Andrew had better beta and was able to lead it very quickly so they were on our tail again. I was confident we could finish the climb that day. I led P.28 and fell trying to free climb a 5.10d section. Mark led another very long and wet pitch which took us to the “Wild Stance” where you get an impressive view of the southeast face and the route below you. Unfortunately all three of our cameras were dead. I led P.30 which was short but involved fun free climbing up a flake. Mark quickly ascended up to Belay 30 and I kept leading up a bolt ladder that goes up and over a big overhanging bulge to complete the final pitch. The rope drag up this pitch was incredibly bad. From belay 31 the technical climbing is over and all that remains is some exposed scrambling up to level ground and the “summit tree” where speed climbers mark the end of the route. I belayed Mark up to the tree where he set up an anchor and belayed me while I shuttled loads up to the tree. We finished at sundown.

Mark at Belay 27 above the Changing Corners. Tom Evans photo

Britt was planning on meeting us up at the summit so instead of celebrating I was immediately wondering where she was. I didn’t know if she got lost or if she was safe, and of course we couldn’t communicate since she lost her two way radio. We saw a campfire several hundred yards up the slope. After the joyous act of removing all our gear and harnesses, I ran up to see whose fire it was. It turned out to be a team of Spaniards who were out of water after finishing a different El Cap route, so I donated three liters of our water to them. We briefly got lost just trying to get back to where Mark was, which made me realize Britt probably couldn’t have found the top of the Nose because there didn't seem to be any obvious trail.

Mark and I ate dinner and found flat spots to sleep on next to the summit tree. It was very cold at the top – lower 40’s or upper 30’s. Saturday morning we slept in. For the hike down we divided up all our gear the best we could. One of us carried all the climbing gear and the other carried all the bivy gear (including portaledge) inside the haul bag. Unfortunately we left the haul bag waist strap with Britt. We saw a climber passing by and asked if he had seen her. He had actually met her on El Cap Bridge the previous day but said she probably wouldn’t have been able to find her way to El Capitan from the Yosemite Falls Trail. We all figured that she probably tried to come up but turned around when the trail disappeared. We hiked/scrambled down to the East Ledges rappels having some difficulty with the haul bag. On the way down I said “I wonder what’s up with Britt?” Literally within a few seconds Britt’s voice came in on my two way radio: “Todd and Mark, are you there? This is Brittany. Can you hear me?” I responded but then she didn’t reply. A minute later her voice came in again, saying the exact same thing. We could hear her but she couldn’t hear us. We tried to respond with Mark’s radio but that didn’t work either, so we just kept moving on, helplessly listening to Britt’s calls every 5 or 10 minutes. It was obvious in her voice that she was getting frustrated and worried about us. At least it confirmed she was safe on the valley floor and not lost in the wilderness. We rappelled about 500’ off the East Ledges and switched loads. More steep downward scrambling and hiking brought us to a picnic area and parking lot at the valley floor. I went straight for the garbage receptacle and emptied out our poop tube. Neither of us realized that we could have caught the shuttle bus from that point so we just walked about two miles along the flat road back to our site at Camp 4. It was nice to be walking over flat terrain for the first time in four days. The joy of completing our climb was finally sinking in for me. Our descent from El Cap took three or four hours.

Red = The Nose (the bottom portion of the Nose is actually out of view).

Blue = Our descent via the East Ledges

Back at Camp 4 we dumped off our stuff and relaxed a while, eating and drinking. I started walking around camp, asking if I could borrow a two way radio to contact Britt but nobody had one and the park ranger wouldn’t let me use hers. I gave up and took a nap on the ground at our site, eventually moving into our tent. I woke up to a sound of brisk walking and heavy breathing coming toward my tent. It was Britt. As she threw open the tent door she was in tears and I thought she was angry with me. I spewed out my explanations of the malfunctioning two way radios and how I tried to contact her. She just threw her arms around me and sobbed. She told me how worried she had been because we weren’t responding and she expected us to be down much sooner that morning, and she was emotional because she was happy and relieved to see me. We spent a while telling each other stories from the last few days and then headed for the car with Mark. There were two things I was craving. First, a shower; second, pizza. We made a stop in El Cap Meadow to return a two way radio that Britt had borrowed. Britt took some pictures of me and Mark with the Nose in the background. A glorious warm shower in Curry Village was followed by pizza at The Loft in Yosemite Village. On Sunday morning we packed up and headed out, stopping at El Cap Bridge to thank Tom Evans for taking photos of us with his telephoto lens. The Tioga Pass was still closed so we made the extra long drive again, returning home after midnight.

A happy ending the story, other than us finishing our climb, is that Mark pretty much got a new helmet for nothing. While we were on the wall, Britt met some climbers that were staying in Camp 4 under the radar. One of them asked Britt if he could stay in Mark’s tent, since it wasn’t being used, in trade for some beer. She said jokingly that what Mark really needed was a new helmet since he dropped his. The climber, named Dario was an employee of Miguel’s Pizza/Climbing Shop (the climbing hub of the Eastern US) and just happened to have a nice spare helmet with him that had been at the lost and found for too long. He apparently gladly gave it to Mark when we got back down.