Snowpatch Spire, Direct East Face, Bugaboos. We dragged ourselves to the bottom of the steep, blank climb, a short haul from Boulder Dump. I’d been up those first overhangs before, nailing with Roper years ago. A big snow forced us down (actually fear, but we told our friends it was the storm). Then I’m back with those two big-business-men, Yvon Chouinard and Peter Carman. Wheezing and blowing, we spend all day nailing three pitches! Next day, we’re back at the climb … prusik like mad, so stiff as to creak, back to the high spot and back to the nitty gritty. We nail all day and turn the overhangs; by nightfall we reach a small ridge, a good bivy for Yvon with his new hammock. The last day we’re suffering from an acute case of the slows. We are free-climbing like idiots, glomming the rock, using knees, grabbing anything, but we’re getting better! Unreal rock, perfect and rough. We reach the top after complicated last sections, all fifth class.

DOUGLAS TOMPKINS