Five Things I Wish I Knew Before Climbing El Capitan

El Capitan, the world’s most accessible big wall, sits just a thousand feet from the road in sunny California and begs to be climbed. If you’re a free climber, the Freerider (VI 5.13a 3,000ft ) is the “easiest” true El Camp route. That makes it an obvious target for pros trying to flash the Big Stone (congrats Babsi Zangerl!), but it also makes it an obvious choice for mortals like me. I spent years preparing for the climb on other big Yosemite walls before finally, in 2012, beginning the process myself. Over the next three years, I made four ground-up attempts and spent roughly 40 days working the pitches. Then, in 2015, I made a 16-hour ascent, leading all the pitches. Needless to say, I logged some time on the wall, spending nights in the alcove, days hiking to the top and rapping in, and weeks staring up at the route, dreaming.

Here’s everything I wish I’d known at the start of that process.

1. Freeing El Cap Requires All the Skills

With a V7 slab boulder, pumpy 5.12 sport style liebacking, thuggy 5.11+ crack climbing, a huge 5.11 slab, long sections of 5.10 offwidth, and a lot of moderate climbing in between, Freerider will test your movement strength and skill set. But success isn’t just about climbing. You’ve also got to be an experienced wall climber (familiar with hauling, short fixing, and prolonged exposure) and accrue Freerider specific logistics, like where to bivy, how much water to haul, and how many wag bags you’ll bring per day.

Big wall free climbers tend to fall into one of two camps: one-arm pull-up mutants who can’t set up a portaledge and wall rats who’ve never crimped a 10mm edge in their life. If you’re the former, then climbing El Cap is simply a matter of reading some instructions. When you arrive at the base of Freeblast, simply type “how to haul a bag” into YouTube, then remember the old El Cap adage: Don’t bail and don’t die. You’ll make it to the top.

If you’re the latter group—weak but experienced—then you probably need to sell your iron skirt of cams, pick up a crash pad, drive to Bishop, and try Yayoi Right (V7) and Junior’s Achievement (V7/8). It takes a long time to build the technical ability to climb hard on El Cap. Get a coach. Climb on every Moonboard set. Drink protein shakes until you can do a one-arm pull-up. Redpoint 5.13 sport routes and 5.12 slabs. Then head back to El Cap and do a quick session at YouTube university to freshen up your wall skills.

If you’re one of the unlucky ones—neither podiuming at a World Cups nor aiding the Nose in a day—I suggest you either call up Connor Herson and ask if he has some coat tails you can ride on.

Alternatively, you could…

2. Work Your Way Up to it

It’s fairly common for people to start up El Cap and quickly bail because they’re not ready. Building a base of experience will prepare you for the wall. You can start before you even get to Yosemite with smaller walls like Moonlight Buttress (5.12c) in Zion National Park, The University Wall (5.12a) in Squamish, Romantic Warrior (5.12b) in the Needles, The Rainbow Wall (5.12a) in Red Rock, or Ariana (5.12a) on the Diamond.

When you arrive in Yosemite, try something less committing like The Final Frontier (5.13b, 1,000 ft) on the Fifi Buttress or The Westie Face (5.13a A0 1,000ft) on the Leaning Tower. Also run through a few classics like Astroman (5.11c 1,000ft), The Crucifix (5.12b, 700ft), and even warm up on Freeblast (5.11b, 950ft) to hone in on the start of the route. Do all those. Then do some laps on Generator Crack (5.10c), a horrendous roadside offwidth; and on your way back to Camp 4, stop by the Cathedral Boulders and send The Hexentric (V7), The Octagon (V6), and The King (V6) to ensure your fingers are strong enough for the “5.11” move off Heart Ledges and, of course, the Boulder Problem.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have climbed The Nose (VI 5.9 A1), the Zodiac (VI 5.9 A3) or another El Cap route just to know how to jumar efficiently and experience true big wall life, which is like #vanlife but not as posh.

While you don’t need to have done everything on this list, you want to have a solid resume before applying for the job.

3. Partners Matter

“Good thing you didn’t pull us off the mountain,” Alex Honnold shouted to me from Hollow Flake ledge.

I’d just finished downclimbing and then thrashing up the Hollow Flake Pitch (5.8), climbing 280 feet but only gaining 70 feet on the mountain. When I’d got to the ledge at the end of the pitch, I short-fixed the line and then launched up the 5.7 chimney that leads to the Monster Offwidth. Tired from the climbing, I went further into the crack than I should have, offwidthing rather than chimneying on the outside. Almost at the exact moment that Alex reached the ledge and unclipped the rope, I slipped. There was no gear between us. I slid down toward the chasm below and would soon be pulling Honnold off with me. In desperation, I slammed my feet across the wall, arresting my fall by essentially falling into the chimney. It was a World Cup parkour maneuver. I could feel blood pouring down my back.

“That was scary,” I said.

“Keep going!” Honnold responded.

So, buoyed by his encouragement and my adrenaline, I kept charging up the mountain. While I didn’t send during that attempt (I’d fallen repeatedly on the crux of the Boulder Problem) I’d felt confident in my ability to go for it having Honnold as a partner. And more importantly, Honnold helped me maintain my composure when things went awry. “Things like that happen,” he said. “You’ve got to just get going again.”

Free climbing El Cap requires a lot of support. Make sure to climb with someone who’s competent with the rope skills, the hauling, the wide climbing, and the basic logistics of big walling, but who also wants your success and shares your dream of flowing over the Big Stone.

4. The El Cap perspective—i.e. it’s not always fun

During the years I was trying Free Rider, every time I sat in the meadow, I’d stare up at El Cap, wishing I was on the wall. I pictured laybacking up the Enduro Corner and jamming up the Scotty Burke Offwidth. But when I was actually got on El Cap, for instance while thrashing myself as I rehearsed the Monster Offwidth before my successful ascent (I rappelled into it and climbed it eight times in a single week, just to get it dialed), I’d look down at El Cap Meadow and wish I was there, eating Have’A Corn Chips with Tom “Ansel” Evans.

The reality is that climbing on El Cap can be scary and intimidating and uncomfortable. It’s normal to be on the side of the wall and suddenly decide you’d rather be at home snuggling your cats. But it helps to remain present—to think of the moment as it’s happening—and to remember how unlikely and amazing it is that you’re up there. Whether you’re jugging to Heart, smearing in the heat on Freeblast, or hiking loads down the endless East Ledges, know that these un-fun moments make the whole process more rewarding.

5. Success or Failure, the Memories Remain

I managed to send Freerider, but if I hadn’t, I’d still get to remember having a dance party with Hazel Findlay in the Alcove, helping two stranded climbers off the Salathe Wall with Honnold, and watching Lyn Barraza drop a shoe from Mammoth Terraces. All of these memories will stick with me longer than the shoulder scars from the Monster Offwidth—though I suspect those scars will be with me for a while.

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