Jan, 14, 2000

As we all make the passage through this fascinating journey called life we each partake in various events, places, and people, which impact us in profound and significant ways. Memories and feelings are created which can and often do last a lifetime, for many those memories can be tragic and devastating, for others they can be exhilarating and triumphant. This is one mans story of a memory, a single day which changed the way in which he viewed the world, its people, and most importantly himself.

I had wanted to climb with Sean since the day I met him in the parking lot of Western Mountaineering in Silicon Valley. Although he was obviously in better shape than myself physically and about 10 years my junior, I figured he could lead me up some pretty wild routes and perhaps I could see what kind of grit I had and drag him up a few hair raising ones. After all, I had learned early on that climbing is about 70% a mental game and the rest physical. He and I compared notes, kept in touch, and eventually hooked up for what would become one unforgettable ride on three routes through Pinnacles National Monument.

As usual we had an early start departing at 6:00, we arrived in the East Side parking lot of Pinnacles around 7:30am, we then geared up and headed for Bear Gulch. In all honesty I was a little apprehensive because I had been leading with my regular partner Daniel most of the summer in 1999 and I new Sean was a strong leader and we were in for some real work. The hike in was beautiful as always, the summer heat was all long gone and the air was crisp and cool, perfect for climbing.

I was quite familiar with The Wet Kiss on Discovery Wall as I had spent the better part of the 1999-climbing season at Pinnacles and had sent many routes in that area of the park. I had shied away from that particular route, there was talk that it was a difficult route and possibly a sand bag but at three stars I had always wanted to give it a go. Sean wanted to lead it and I was more than happy to oblige so he roped up and I was on belay. There is a wicked mantle a few bolts up and somehow Sean was able to clip the bolt above the mantle but then could not climb past it. I lowered him back down to the ground after he made a few attempts and he asked me if I wanted to go up and retrieve the quick draw. Having never left behind a piece of gear I was more than willing to give it a shot, I made the mantle and somehow got back down but did not complete the route. I think Sean had injured his shoulder a few weeks prior and he was trying to take it easy that day.

I told Sean that I had been thinking about doing The Hand out in the Deserted Valley ever since Daniel and I had done The Thumb back in the summer. Now, for those of you who have never left the comforts of Bear Gulch I will forewarn you that the hike through the Deserted Valley or at least getting there is quite a bushwhacking event. After about 45 minutes Sean and I found ourselves staring up at the imposing formation of The Hand. I told him that I wanted to lead it, despite the fact that I was terrified inside of what I was about to get myself into. We studied the route book at great length to get our bearings and fourth classed up the notch that separates the thumb from the hand, most routes on this face of The Hand seem to start here. The guidebook gives a stern warning of The Hand, that it is meant for "strong teams" only.

There is a point in time where every climber must reach down inside themselves to dig for that motivation which will propel them to do something which defies all immediate logic and borderlines what they perceive to be temporary insanity. As I roped up and gazed into the sky at this massive formation I would soon be attempting to climb, I was able to find the balance between risks and gain that pushes me to keep climbing. I was on the lead and I gave specific instructions to my partner on what to do should I injure myself and become unable to perform self-rescue, which I was very uneducated at. When climbing in remote locations extra care must be taken to avoid injury, even a broken ankle can turn deadly if a person goes into shock and does not receive immediate medical attention.

It was a beautiful winter day with a deep blue sky, the view from the belay station is amazing and the climb had not even started yet. I take a deep breath, put my trust in a loving God, and begin the dance. I enter a place of peace and happiness where no one can hurt me with words or looks; I am free from the pressures of the world in which I dwell. The formation welcomes me with open arms, I touch the Mother Earth with my fingertips and caress her many features and designs. I find the first bolt after a 20-foot traverse, clip it and casually survey the surroundings. As The Hand and I softly embrace one another passion fills my heart, my soul feels light and youthful. I am trying to make my way around a massive corner, which juts out, into space, in an attempt to find three bolts. The distant ground below sweeps away and my whole being is engulfed in space, time stands still as the beating of my heart echoes through the valley for the entire world to hear.

The dance continues as the adrenalin courses through my veins, the sky opens and the rock warming under the California sun feels wonderful. I breathe the clean fresh air around me and my nostrils fill with the smell of earth and stone. I want to keep on the traverse and locate the three bolts but then it happens. I don't know what is around the corner or if I can continue to climb if I go out there, I don't think I can reverse my last moves, and I don't know if the rope is long enough for my partner (whom I can't see) to lower me to the ground if needed. I briefly pause and reflect, I know that this is why I lead climb, to find this place of no return, a place which can only be experienced and not described. The reality is that the only way to feel it is to go climb, eventually if you lead enough you will find that place inside yourself be it on the side of The Hand or 1000 feet above the valley floor on The Salathe Wall. At that exact moment the rock and the climber become one, forever intertwined for all eternity, the passage only marked by boundless energy etched upon the wall and deep within the imagination of his soul.

The seconds tick by like hours, I am in the palm of The Hand and I realize I cannot keep my position indefinitely. I gaze above for an exit, as the formation seems to reach into the clouds, I see nothing above me and only vast exposure underneath. Deep down I believe in myself and without question I know I can complete this project, which I have choose to undertake. Again I look up and suddenly I spot a single bolt, it was so weathered and unused that I did not see it the first time. That bolt seemed to be a mile away but in reality it must have been about 20 feet. I take her in my arms and we once again float across the valley, intimately gliding through the sunshine, we dance and smile and feel and live. I climb towards the clouds and all my cares and troubles are so far below me, so much run out, so little time in life to find it all. I discover other bolts along the way, which have seen the passage of time but not many climbers. My partner calls to me in an attempt to see if I am ok, I smile real big, yell back, and seemingly climb forever.

Eventually I find the summit and make my way to a position where I can get a good stance for belay. My partner yells to me that he is climbing and he begins the route. After what seems like half an hour Sean tops out and has a big grin on his face, obviously he enjoyed his climb as well as I did. We sit on the summit and take a well-deserved rest; the view from atop the Hand is incredible, well worth every ounce of effort needed to attain it. We get a birds eye view of all the major formations around the reservoir. The descent was not so bad, we rapped off into the notch, which separates the Thumb and The Hand then forth classed down to our starting point. We sat at the base of the formation for quite a while that day, enjoying our lunch and basking in the light hearted feeling after bagging a good route. It wasn't hard to convince Sean that we should wrap the day up with some top roping at the Back Door.

As sport climbing explodes across North America most climbing destinations are seeing more and more traffic from climbers. The typical weekend sport climber would rather belay from the bumper of his car instead of facing the challenge of hiking with a 35-pound pack into the back country through bushes and ravines. For those willing to get off the beaten bath and explore the world of traditional adventure climbing there are endless routes, which see very little use. If you are planning a trip to The Hand be sure you do have a strong team and heed the warnings in the guidebook. In my opinion some of the most thrilling routes in Pinnacles are on this formation. I highly recommend Burnette Bolt Variation, 5.7 R ** but, make sure you know what you are getting involved in, if you get hurt the parking lot is a long way off.

For you who are willing to do the dance and take Mother Earth by The Hand you are in store for an unforgettable experience. As I grow older and life throws various obstacles my way, which it does for all of us, to ease frustration all I have to do is close my eyes and remember the feeling I had when I reached the summit on that route. On that cool winter day at Pinnacles I learned that with enough determination, enough courage, and enough training not only can I climb anything I set my mind to but I can also reach any goal in life. The man who hiked to the Hand that day and the man who returned are different people, forever changed with a deeper appreciation of life and the creatures that dwell upon the earth.