I have been in a funk lately. Life has gotten really stressful. Being a fifth grade teacher is never easy, but spring fever has struck the 29 11 year olds I work with hard. And then there are the added pressures of growing up, like family, relationships, saving for retirement and trying to buy a house to settle down. People deal with stress in many ways and for me one sure fire way to not think about life for a while is to go on an adventure with some good friends and challenge myself with a little wide climbing.

I was feeling particularly weighted down by life the other night at the local climbing gym. So when my friends Robin and Erick mentioned a little climbed area with a crack that needed 8-10 #5 pieces, I was intrigued. That heavy rack sounded light compared to how I was feeling. The area was in Yosemite, my favorite place to climb and be in all the world. They had already scouted the approach, so that was a plus.



I have learned that climbing little known climbs in Yosemite can be pretty epic (see Losing our marbles thread), so I asked Robin for as much information as she had. She had found a few threads on Supertopo about Audubon buttress, filled with phrases and words such as “obscurity”, “no bolts, no folks”, “long approach” “descent?” She had scouted the area with her husband Erick weeks before and they had even seen the climb we were seeking. It is called Wild Turkey. The climb is mentioned on Wide Fetish and the Offwidth Hardman Circuit, so of course Robin and I needed to check it off. We gathered as much information as we could find and set out to do it the next day. It will be good to add something to mountain project. Encourage more people to do obscure Yosemite offwidths. Also, when climbing an offwidth, I rarely think about the problems of life and narrow in on the inches in front of me.


We woke up and loaded the car with as many big cams as we could find. We got webbing and rap rings ready, because nowhere did it say anything about descent. While packing the car in the sunny meadow by Yosemite falls, we saw a bobcat cross the sidewalk and then meander across the road and plop down in the meadow and watch the falls. “It is a good omen,” I joked. Secretly I hoped it would be.

We began the hike up the Old Oak Flat Road. If you have never been up here, I highly encourage it. I knew as soon as I looked behind me and saw the stunning view of El Cap that I wouldn’t be weighted down by life’s problems today. We hiked along the road, coming to boulder fields where the hillside had slid and reclaimed a semi-natural state. The road was built in the 1930’s and has not been in use for many years. At one point while hiking you come to a massive field of refrigerator to car sized boulders. This is where the original road switched back up to gain some elevation. You must set off up the field to find the road again. This part is a little tricky when finding the area, but my trusted guides made it care free for me. They knew exactly where to go. I so enjoyed the stunning views and beautiful day that the 1 ½ hours hike went quickly and soon we were at Rainbow Point. “‘7 more minutes,” Erick said and then we hike up hill. I still could not see the formation, but had no doubt in my partners’ skill to navigate the approach.

We hiked for 7 minutes exactly and then turned and hiked straight up hill. You could not see the cliff even still, as the thick tree cover blocks all views. After 5 minutes hiking straight up hill, we came to a cliff band. I saw a beautiful corner, that I knew from studying the Don Reid guide must be “Duncan Imperial”. We traverse up and left and soon Wild Turkey came into view.


The splitter looked like everything that we had hoped for. It was clean and striking. After checking out the approach pitch, which didn’t even look that bad, we were ready to begin. Robin would lead the first pitch. She was graciously giving me the second pitch and I was thrilled and only a little apprehensive.

Robin is a solid Yosemite climber. She is cool-headed and willing to head into unknown rock. True to her style, Robin quickly and skillfully gained the ledge and set up a belay. I came up, along with Erick. We were all surprised that the approach pitch had actually been quite decent and protectable. The ledge was comfortable and offered great views of the Rostrum and lower canyon.


As soon as I got there, Robin said, “Check out the old, broken chock.” I peered into the crack. There lay a jagged, aluminum remnant most likely from the first ascensionist. I looked down at the heavy rack that I was loading my harness up with and was reminded of the incredible feats of heroism that early Yosemite is so rich with. “Oh, well,” I thought, “I hiked it up here might as well bring it,” and I added the 5th #5 to my harness.


Robin and I double checked our knots and harnesses and I started up. Rattly hands changed quickly into big fists. I placed a #4 in the crack and made upward progress. The rock was perfect, clean and textured. The crack changed to 5” very quickly. I was getting butterfly stacks, but couldn’t quite get in a knee, so I changed to arm bars. These felt strenuous, but I was able to move upward better. My right leg was working hard, but there was a rest coming up. I plugged in a #5 camalot and got to an awkward in-cut ledge. I was able to get a decent rest here. I proceeded to plug in a camming device that Erick actually makes. It is lighter and has more range than a black diamond #6. Erick is a master fabricator and spends hours perfecting wide gear for offwidth adventures. A unique man.

This fit perfectly above the small bulge. I rested a little more and then moved above to finish the climb. It was continuous hand-fist stacks and luckily the right knee fit in at this point. There are few left feet on this entire route. I tried to use every one of them, but was still extremely pumped when I pulled over the ledge to the top of the pitch. What a beautiful pitch of offwidth climbing. And I know what you are thinking and no, this is not an oxymoron.

I hollered a “Wahoo,” and heard Robin say, “Do you see any bolts?”
I saw nothing, except for a nice horizontal crack in front of me, a sad looking tree out on a face to the right of me about 20 feet, and some larger trees about 60 feet up on the sandy top above.

I built an anchor and brought Robin and Erick up. They both made quick work of the crack, resting a little, but doing amazing on the pitch. Robin climbed quietly, while Erick kept it colorful with a series of good-humored expletives. We squeezed onto the ledge together and looked up, wondering what was next. Leave gear or climb another pitch and then rap from the trees above. Robin said that she would lead the next pitch. Erick and I quickly accepted. To say the least, it did not look great.


Robin slowly and meticulously led the next pitch and after a while she shouted, “Belay off.” As I begin to follow the pitch, I soon saw why it had taken her so long. This was some of the worst kitty-litter, jungle climbing I had done in Yosemite. Everything felt loose and at one point you climb through a small tree. As I climbed, I cleaned the pitch I decided to stop taking cams out, because I wanted Erick to see the special nature of gear. He took a picture of the most bomber placement on the whole pitch.

Again, Robin impressed me with her calm and competent leading. We all made it to the top of the cliff and set up some webbing around a large tree. We were luckily able to rap with 2-70m ropes. Even though, that last pitch made us all ready to be back on the ground, we will be back to find more dirty and rarely climbed pitches.

We found adventure. We laughed. We climbed and pushed ourselves. We got off the Manure Pile and the Five Open Books. We got out on a beautiful February day. We got to use lots of large gear. We saw new perspectives and through this the weight of life was lifted just a little bit. It is not that I want to avoid life’s tough choices, because there are many things in my life that are amazing. I am extremely lucky, but sometimes a reset is required. I will need to make the decisions about family, house, and 401K, but sometimes for just a weekend, or just a 80 foot pitch of perfect #5 curving splitter, it is sure nice to seek the stacks.


All photos by Robin Lui or Erick Davidson.