When we developed the RURP (Realized Ultimate Reality Piton — a brilliant name that Yvon came up with), it was because Yvon and I had done a climb on Kat Pinnacle in Yosemite and couldn’t finish the last pitch. For the incipient seam, a crack not yet formed, we needed a special piton. We took a power hacksaw blade from a machine shop, broke off the end, and fitted a sling in the hole. We climbed the route to the last pitch, and as Yvon attempted to pound it, it shattered into a million pieces! So we realized it had to be made of chromoly instead of hard steel.

In 1997, when Ryan and I were getting in shape for Yosemite, we traveled there from Colorado and stopped at a couple of sport-climbing spots. My feeling is that if you have some good rock that can’t be protected naturally, then it’s appropriate to bolt it. I can count on one hand how many times I have sport-climbed. I went to climbing gym once. I didn’t take to it, so I never went back.

I still take photos, but only in the mountains when I am hiking or climbing. I only shoot black and white, and with film. It works in Yosemite. When I was climbing El Cap in the 60s, I took pictures to document. Back then, if you could do the climb, you could take the photos and you were already in a good place. It’s not like today, where most things are set up. I was first a climber, then a photographer. Our pace back then was slow, not like today where it’s a big rush to get to the top. We were taking it all in — we were at home. My favorite photo is my shot looking down on Royal at El Cap Spire.

Yvon and I, Royal, and those great philosophers from the “old era” were passionate about stewardship and taking care of the rock, the beauty of it and nature. We were all about Royal’s philosophy — how it’s not what you climb but how you do it that matters and most important to us was to leave the route in precisely the same excellent condition you found it in. We would leave no pitons behind, trying to apply the philosophy learned from Salathé. We tried to teach by our actions, and by our words.

I had been in Colorado for years, and it had been 37 years since I had done the Nose [second ascent]. I knew deterioration was an issue but was aware climbers had turned over to clean climbing. In 1997, I found the Nose in excellent condition. There were some minor issues that inspired me to write my piece for the AAJ, published in 1998. The last thing I wrote after that was my address at Innsbruck.