We have made a major tactical mistake as the route has been in the sun since the second pitch. Rob and I both look like we just stepped out of the shower as our shirts are soaked with sweat. We hang out at the two boulder bivy trying to muster up the strength to continue upward, but neither one of us is feeling particularly motivated. When Brad and Andy join us, they too admit that it is way too hot for climbing on the jet-black rock. When I can’t sit around any longer, I start up the unbelievable 5.10 corner pitch, moving slowly and complaining the entire way about the fact that my left foot is on fire. 

Not wanting to belay in the sun, I continue through the next pitch and collapse at the belay with nothing more than a locking ‘biner and a 3.5 Camelot left on my harness. On the next pitch I know that Rob is feeling the effects of the previous week’s trials as he spends what is for him an eternity fishing in tons of gear to protect easy 5.9 moves. While I gingerly feed out rope and blindly yell up beta to him, I am extra nervous as Rob yells ‘watch me’ on several occasions. I am all too aware of the terrain that he is on and I’m certain that a fall here would end in serious injury. Proving once again that he is the man, Rob musters up the inner strength to fire the pitch and soon I hear those beautiful words, ‘off belay’! Only one more pitch to go and then it’s 700 feet of simul climbing to the car.  

In the last 6 days we’ve driven over 4000 miles, battled floods, endured record hot temperatures, fought off ravenous mosquitoes, slept precious few hours, and climbed more classic rock routes than most people will in a year or more. It is under these conditions that I find myself staring up at what are by far the hardest 150 feet of climbing I will encounter on the entire trip. Nothing like saving the easy stuff for last. The first time I stood on this ledge there was a nice, fat pin to clip. This piece was unfortunately removed in a bone-crushing fall that resulted in a broken back, pelvis, and femur which led to an epic rescue. The last time I was here I stood on my partner’s shoulders in order to fiddle in a nut that I felt half-way confident in weighting.