Mission Project

Next morning we started down, contouring the giant glaciated bowls above Tenaya Creek's Inner Gorge, enjoying the view of Half Dome. We noticed few other parties camped by Tenaya Creek. By about 11am we reached the giant slab above Hidden Valley, messed around with our clinometers figuring out the slope (35 degrees), and started down. At that point we were still 800 feet above Hidden Valley floor, and even though the slope is no big deal the rock was wet, which we hadn't expected, and we were too lazy to bushwhack through a band of willows which would have led us down, so we set a series of running belays. Above us we could see a group of three hikers catching up to us fast, partly because of better route-finding, but also because they had only day-hiking gear. In fact, at the last belay one of their group went past me and sailed on down through the willows in fine style.

A few minutes later, I heard Rusty and Majid yelling for me. They were behind, clearing the rappel, and had found Kristin, another hiker, stuck, immobile, and scared on a wet slab. Rusty got a webbing harness on her and Majid set a lowering system while I climbed back up and helped guide her down the last 100 feet or so to easy ground above the valley. We all bashed bushes to the bottom, and then Kristin, reunited with her dad, Doug, and brother Galen, headed off toward the Inner Gorge, pushing hard because they planned a one-day trip. We shamelessly headed in the opposite direction and went swimming in the pool below Pywiack Cascade. Later on we made camp on a flat rock along Tenaya Creek. After a half hour or so (which we had spent bickering about who would sleep closest to Rusty, a famous snorer,) we heard yelling, and after a few minutes Doug, Galen and Kristen showed up. They'd decided that they were under-equipped and weren't feeling comfortable with the rappels ahead. We invited them to spend the night and agreed we'd all go out together in the morning. Proving that the back country is a small world, it turned out Doug was a veteran of the Camp 4 glory days, and had hung out with all the ancient gods of climbing, which made us pretty much exact contemporaries! (Age-wise, anyway.) He had some great climbing gear from those days - I got to show my guys a stich plate, which most of the whippersnappers had never heard of. I called YOSAR and let them know our status and our plan (Kristen looked pretty beat and we wanted to be sure to have more help on tap if needed.) Of course, this all meant that we were no longer training; we went "real world," as we say in SAR.

But in the end, the Inner Gorge was fun. The first rappel involves walking out on a long ledge to some solid bolts, but in the early morning the overhanging granite is dark, deep cut, and foreboding. It's also the longest rappel, so we set a pattern: a double rope system so everyone could be belayed from the top. Then Rusty and I would throw down the belay rope, rap off, and pull the rope. Meanwhile, other team members, generally Ty and Kevin, scouted for the next station, and the rest of the team helped our subjects move through the boulders. Not surprisingly, after a couple of rappels everyone got much more confident on the rope. We sent down the packs on a high line, partly for safety but mostly to keep our gear dry. Even though it's a drought year in the Sierra, Tenaya was running way higher than it is when people normally make the descent.

By around 4:00pm things actually got harder as we got down into the canyon above the trail to Mirror Lake. Kristen, despite loyally getting down all the GU and water we'd given her for hours, began to falter. Eventually our paramedic, Dana, decided we needed some support, so I called YOSAR at around 6:00pm. We met Park paramedics at 9:30, then waited around to find out if we needed to help with a carry-out. After about an hour and some fluids, Kristen was much better and ready to walk out, so we blasted off into the bushes for the footbridge. Unfortunately, we neglected to remember we didn't know where the bridge was, and floundered around in trees for quite a while before getting it right. In the process, we found ground wasps, stinging ants, and lots of poison oak, but eventually made it out to Yosemite Valley, a little the worse for wear, very early Monday morning.

Since we're a search and rescue team, there should be a moral to our story, and I think you can come up with more than one, but here's the one I'd like to pass on: have good gear and know how to use it. My team works hard to get the best, and lucky for us Mountain Hardwear helps: our "uniform" if you can call it that, is MH, as is as much of our camping gear as possible. There's a reason that you see the MH logo on our stuff. It's the same reason you see fake Mountain Hardwear logos on every Sherpa in the Khumbu, and the reason that Peak Promotion talked me into bringing them about ten grand worth of Mountain Hardwear tents and bags - the real thing - on my last trip. If you're going to depend on it, you want the good stuff.