I had lapse in my schedule and all weather reports showed a large front coming in the next day so I did what any logical Mt. Biker would do in late November... I went riding. Dropping by Over the Edge Sports in Hurricane UT I convinced my buddy Quentin that today would be a great day to go to Guacamole and capture an image that we had wanted for a while. After about ten seconds of deliberation he agreed and we were off.
Eddie, our canine friend, is always stoked to accompany us on a ride. He keeps an eye on things to make sure his next meal is forthcoming.
The days are short and the shadows are long.
It's days and friends like this that make all the struggles of life seem to fade away.
I’ve been doing some mountain bike photography for my friend, Quentin Morrisette at Over the Edge Sports in Hurricane UT. Normally he doesn’t “do mornings” by his own admission so when the opportunity to do an early Saturday shop ride at Little Creek came up I just couldn’t pass it up…even if were just to see him function at that hour.
Little Creek is a slick-rock riding area with two main loops and several off-shoots. It’s one of the prettiest riding areas in Southern Utah and typically doesn’t have the heavy use that nearby Gooseberry Mesa gets on the weekend. With a word of caution though, there’s a reason that it doesn’t attract riders who’ve never been there. Although the trails are well marked with rock cairns, it’s a very disorienting place as you don’t always have the reference views of the surrounding mountains in Zion National park. Get lost once in an area like this and it might be the last time you get lost, especially when mid-day temps can soar upwards of 100 degrees. This area claimed the life of a mountain biker just a couple of years ago. I ride solo a lot in Southern Utah but not here and neither does Quentin. It’s just an area that demands that kind of respect.
Luckily the temps were around ten degrees cooler than a normal August day and I will say it was perfect and unrushed. We didn’t intend it to be a photography and video day but being kids in a candy store the “treats” presented themselves in abundance and were soon scooped up like a “ten minute grab all you can get for free” contest. Sic lines, major air and pants-wetting drops were the order of the day.
Here’s just a few sequences for your enjoyment. You may see more photo’s on my website at: www.DaveDiegelman.com under Special Interests / Mountain Biking or Little Creek Images.
I am fortunate enough to live in one of the best kept secrets in mountain biking with spectacular backdrops of Zion National Park here in Southern Utah. Some friends of mine from Over The Edge Sports are working on a comprehensive riding guide to the area and asked me to take some photos. Below is just a few but you can see more on my website by clicking here or here for more.
Nothing quite perks us my sense of adventure like climbing yet to try and explain it to a non-climber so often results in falling woefully shy. It’s like trying to use words to explain the magical feeling of hearing a live orchestra play something like Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring… it’s just not going to connect like the actual experience. Yet just like when we discover a wonderful restaurant, we inherently want to share or “turn others on” to the elation experienced. I was reflecting upon this the other day during an early morning climb in Southern Utah’s Snow Canyon on a climb named “Living on the Edge” as well as reflecting upon the historical development of climbing and the milestones that have been achieved in the past 35 years since I first let my fingers on the stone.
All of a sudden my partner, Chris Howard yells up at me, “hey you’re not wearing your normal climbing pants, did you forget them today?” “No, but does my butt look big in these?” I jokingly replied. Being a middle aged guy has its disadvantages.
There was a slight chill to the air of the morning with the sweet fragrance of sage wafting through the still air. The moon was just getting ready to depart over the crimson skyline. I was grateful for the commitment of my friend and climbing partner, Chris Howard, meeting up prior to the first light of the morning in order to beat the heat which can climb upwards of 100 degrees in the summer. Today’s agenda was to climb the first two pitches of Living on the Edge and string them together with a fixed line in order to run some self-belayed laps on this amazing climb.
Although it’s not hard by today’s standards at 5.10c, it delivers a mix of radical exposure and intricate, chess-like moves climbing just above an overhanging arch for the first pitch then venturing out through a sustained face that is all about air as you pass over a roof on the second pitch. I’ve always wanted to fix a line in order to climb both pitches continuously so we did just that.
I dreamt of establishing routes like this years ago but our generation insisted upon placing hand-drilled bolts only on the lead and without the aid of hooks or coming down from the top on rappel which became know as sport climbing. Years ago I spied out an incredible overhanging face climb in Red Rock’s Icebox canyon and thought it would be really cool to bring some hooks and “set” a free climb up where there was no hope of standing upon one’s feet alone and drilling. Intent upon doing so but hesitant about other local climber’s opinions about this style I discussed it with my good friend Randy Grandstaff (RIP) who had a strong distain for such an impure style so I decided to not pursue it.
As the years progressed, climbers in France started employing such tactics and even rappelled down from above to place bolts on severely overhanging routes. This opened up the floodgates of modern standards of climbing boosting the ceiling of what had been climbed, 5.12 at that time, to now over 5.15 with each increment being likened to an earthquake’s Richter scale as the successive grades are substantially more difficult that it’s predecessor.
Upon climbing the first two pitches and fixing the lines Christine Rutherford, who was visiting from the Midwest on vacation, approached us and was beaming with excitement about getting to do her first “outdoor” climb with her son Cam being guided by a local service. Her enthusiasm was infectious and it brought me back to my roots of how cool climbing is. John Long, a Yosemite legend, once exclaimed that “rock climbing is the king of all sports.” Sadly many modern climbers don’t get the incredible experience of connecting with the beauty of creation as they are only exposed to climbing gyms. Personally that’s part of the main attraction to me. It’s like getting to follow a book by Braille as each natural hold opens up the passage through the sea of stone that surrounds you as you tread where you really don’t belong and get to experience things from an elevated perspective.
Climbing has a way of gently pushing out all the thoughts and worries of the day and puts one in contact with the present like nothing else. When you’re climbing on the stone you tend to focus on your immediate surroundings in a primitive way. Fear must be dealt with and literally put in its place, a very useful skill in all aspects of life which if not dealt with can snuff out dreams and kill ambition. No wonder St. John proclaimed that “perfect love casts out fear.” Life is just better when we focus on love and the task at hand rather then dwelling in the dark caverns of fear. The natural high of endorphins rises above the perceived comfort of a restful, sedentary lifestyle that can often lead to depression for many.
Reflecting back on the changes of climbing styles throughout the past 35 years I can’t help but be impressed with each successive generation’s achievements and the building blocks that help stem the void of improbable to the reality of possible. I’m 53 and for me both as an observer of the knarly and a participant of the mediocre, it’s a testimony of the incredible tapped and untapped gifts that God has given us each to use. The creativity and physical training keeps my mind always looking forward to possibilities that I can’t comprehend presently. I’m so grateful for getting a glimpse of this ever-evolving sport and the Creator’s vertical riddles that evoke awe and wonder in all those that participate. I soon realize that it’s ok if my butt looks big in my new attire, it’s almost 10am and it’s time to go to work for a living.
It was early June in 1978 on a very windy day. I was a little over 100’ up a pitch that we named the “Z” rurp pitch on Sea of Dreams, a new route on Yosemite’s El Capitan. The pitch wandered in a perfectly backwards Z pattern and the rope drag was miserable. Most of the upper part of the pitch was comprised of tiny rurps, something the width of a butter knife, driven into minute seams. I had to bounce my bodyweight upon the rope just to get enough slack in the line to clip each successive piece. As luck would have it the normally body-weight-only placements were pretty solid. In fact if it weren’t for the rope drag this pitch had been a blast tinkering up severely overhanging placements with nothing but big air below.
Upon reaching the logical belay point, I whipped out my drill and started drilling a ¼” hole to place a 1.5" belay bolt. We were running very low on good drill bits as lack of financial stability was unanimous and expending money into drill bits didn’t take precedent over visits to the mountain room bar prior to leaving on our granite voyage. As a result were in the habit of starting the hole with a dull bit and then breaking off the tip for a fresh, sharp edge to drill with. After 25 minutes of non-stop drilling my sad little hole was only ¾” deep.
I was loosing patience and tired of drilling so I yelled down to my partners, Jim Bridwell and Dale Bard, “let’s not haul from here, let’s just climb through and fix ropes. It’s taking too long to get the bolts in and I’m out of bits. Is it ok to belay off off 5 equalized rurps and a rivet?” Although this may seem ridicules the seam that the rurps were in was harder than a W*****’s heart and quite solid. Besides nothing like that had ever been done before to my knowledge and the pure novelty of it … I thought. Thankfully Dale strongly protested, as he would be the one cleaning the pitch so I slogged on and put in a 1” bolt, still very substandard for a belay, and backed it up with a rivet. The drilling must have taken an additional half-hour.
I knew that when Dale reached the anchors it would be an amazing photo op so I brought up the camera on the tag line and got positioned. Unfortunately it was so windy that when the time came one of my aiders blew up into the image and there was no way to stage his reaction so that’s why there’s this big blur in the photo behind his head.
George Meyer’s classic book, Yosemite Climber, first published the image and I’ve made it available as a numbered edition for collectors.
You may also want to check out the short video with the original photos at: SEA OF DREAMS VIDEO
This is a short video of the first ascent of Sea of Dreams on Yosemite's El Capitan. Limited Edition prints are available HERE. Proceeds from Limited Edition Prints help Jim Bridwell with his medical expenses.
ENJOY & SHARE! If you want a larger YouTube version CLICK HERE.
Spry Canyon in Zion National Park offers some of the most fantastic views in God's creation. My friends Chris & Leslie Howard joined me for a day of adventure and fun on 4/30/2011.
I knew we were in for an interesting day when the temperature gauge on my car read 32 degrees on the drive up to Zion. Normally I'm gunning for early starts, especially since I found out this was to be Leslie's first experience rappelling but the frigid reality slogging through ice-cold water in a deep slot canyon eased my drive into lethargy.
Leslie was a champ. There were a few times when she needed a bit of coaxing in the form of a gentle (OK maybe not so gentle) push but all in all for her to do such a technical canyon for her first time, I was impressed.
As the day progressed we dropped deeper into the stunning abyss and occasionally we surfaced into the ever-so-slight warmth of the sun when the slot opened up a bit. Clouds started rolling in just before we hit the swim sections and in spite of the 35-40 degree water we opted to leave the wetsuits in our packs and just tough it out. We all sang soprano like we were auditioning for American Idol!
As a photographer who has the privilege of living near Zion National Park there are some magical times of year that I've come to love over the years. The snowstorms of winter are surely spectacular and often we have the park to ourselves. The raw beauty of glistening white snow against the red sandstone is spectacular.
In the early spring when we get a clear, warm day just after a snowstorm, Zion fills up with the most spectacular waterfalls you've ever seen.
As Spring in Zion National Park, matures into longer days and warmer temperatures the cacti come into their splendor. These spectacular blooms last until late fall migrating from species to species, changing as well with the elevation.
Dave has been a photographer for over thirty years and involved in the Real Estate industry for over nine years. As an avid climber and mountaineer his first published work appeared in Yosemite Climber, Outside Magazine and in numerous other books, magazines and ad campaigns. He loves bringing out the best in his subjects and showcasing their uniqueness. His love of God, people and life are evident through his work.
Dave Diegelman..."Your Realtor for Life!"
