It didn’t matter how hard I bared down on the chickenhead, the hold was not positive enough to support body weight. There was just enough friction on Half Dome’s featureless, grainy granite to smear my feet against and stand in place, but not enough to not advance on. Foot chips are out of reach to my left, a licheny face is out right, and looking down: 5,000 feet of vertical and slabby rock leads to the Valley floor. The moves ahead, though only a body length or two of cruxes, are the last of the hard free climbing on this 5.12 big wall free climb. Minutes passed as I stood on the smears, trying half a dozen different options before squaring my body directly to the rock. If I couldn’t find holds, I would pretend they were there, and take the section head on.

I had attempted Half Dome free once before. It was fall 2004 with Heidi ‘Almighty’ Wirtz. Before encountering the final crux pitches — the Zig Zags and final slab — we were driven down the wall by a horrendous Sierra thundershower. We were sixteen pitches up and equipped with one rope. Lightning struck dangerously close to the wall — again and again — and thunder echoed around us. Hail and rain beat us severely as we rapped the mammoth face. Countless single-point anchors later we made it to the ground severely rattled and slightly hypothermic.

Fast-forward four years. It’s now spring in Indian Creek. I’m scrambling around Battle of the Bulge Buttress taking a rest day and looking for a partner for Ocean Negro, a three pitch 5.12+ located nearby. I come upon Doug Englekirk leading Ruby’s Café (5.13-) in the direct sunlight. I’d known who Doug was due to his reputation in the climbing mags and hearing about him through the Yosemite grapevine: World ranked sport climber, second ascent of Book of Hate (13d trad), big wall climber/free climber. Once he comes down we make conversation and I — direct as always — ask him if he’s keen to head up Ocean at 7am the next morning. Without hesitation he agrees.

Our objective goes well enough — we both fell, but had a great time trying for the onsight — and on the way back to the parking lot we discuss future climbing goals. Convinced I’ve found my next El Cap free climbing partner, I barrage Doug with a wish list. He says running his business and raising his family keeps him away from climbing for months on end, and that he doesn’t make plans far out in advance. I explain that I grind out 40+ hours a week in an office cube and get two weeks of vacation a year: I was more than happy to take a week off in the fall and climb with him. We tentatively agree to meet up in October.

Four months later I send Doug an email asking if he’s available to climb. He responds: “I thought you had forgotten…yes.” I ask him his preferred objective. He says Half Dome and we agree to meet in the Park a few weeks later. We’re to do the Regular route ground up in-a-day, and if we fail we’ll just try again, and again until we succeed.