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Three weeks ago we had made an attempt at the Red Dihedral, only to be turned back at the trailhead by inclement weather. This time, the forecast looked perfect, but Nadine, our forth, had decided she would rather work on some silly sport climb called Warp Factor at Donner Summit instead of coming with us to do one of the all time classics. We asked around frantically, looking for a replacement, but were unable to find one. So we decided to do it as a party of three. Jack, Lynsey and I left Berkeley on Thursday evening, and spent a night at elevation to acclimatize a bit. The next morning, after a sinful breakfast at the TPR, we drove to Twin Lakes, stopping in Bridgeport to secure a wilderness permit. There we discovered that a hiker had been missing in the area for 4 days, and the SAR folks were out in force. We spent about an hour at Twin Lakes sorting and assembling gear, then started the hike in at around 12:30. I was very concerned about my knee, as it had been bothering me since Matthes Crest, so I had secured some trekking poles, hoping they would take some of the load off. The first 2.5 miles are on a gentle, well used trail. Then we got to the first crux - where to cross the Robinson Creek to enter Little Slide Canyon. The guide says to head toward the stream "at the wilderness sign," but postings on SuperRopo say to cross several hundred yards before that in order to keep your feet dry. We decided to try the latter, and made it to the edge of the creek without too much of a problem. Unfortunately, the creek was rather deep. We hunted up and down the bank, looking for a shallower ford, but were unable to find anything significantly better. So we put on our tevas and took the plunge. Jack and Lynsey were wearing shorts, but I was wearing pants. I rolled up the legs as far as I could, and waded in. The first step took me to my knees, the second to my thighs, the third to my crotch. So much for rolling up my pant legs. I eventually made it across without wetting my pack, which was my main concern, but my lower half was considerably soaked. Jack and Lynsey, who both have shorter legs than I, were in a similar situation. Oh well, it was warm and sunny, and nylon dries quickly.

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Crossing Robinson Creek

Then came the next crux - making our way up the canyon. The supposed "faint climber's trail" was nowhere in evidence, so we cut straight up the hill, doing a lot of third and fourth class scrambling. Eventually it leveled out, and after bushwhacking a bit, I headed toward a clearing where we finally stumbled across the trail. Much reassured, we headed up it, toward the formidable looking peak of the Incredible Hulk, which loomed over the head of the canyon. Jack took a fall in the talus, but amazingly enough managed to avoid breaking or spraining anything. We decided to take the lower trail option, that avoids the upper scree field and crosses the stream. We paused for lunch at around 3 just before crossing the stream, then continued up the drainage, following the trail until it disappeared. It was obvious where we were heading, so a trail wasn't too important. We made it to the flats below the peak at around 5, with only one mild adventure when Jack went over a small hill instead of around it as Lynsey and I did, forcing him to downclimb some nasty 5th class with a big pack on his back. We watched from below in amuse/amaze-ment.

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Approaching the Hulk

There was one other party present, but there were lots of bivy sites, and we found a prime one, sheltered from the wind, flat and sandy. We sat around for a while, drinking tea and admiring the beauty of the canyon, trying to pick out the various lines that went up the Hulk. Eventually, we roused ourselves enough to make dinner, then turned in early as we were planning on an early start for the next day.

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Our fabulous bivy site

For some reason, I had a lot of trouble sleeping that night, and before I knew it my alarm was going off, and it was time to get up. It was barely light, and pretty damn cold while we had a quick breakfast. We were hiking up the scree to the base of the Hulk at 6, and after changing shoes and scrambling up the first few hundred feet of 4th class, roped up and began the climb of The Red Dihedral (Yggdrasil) (5.10b) in earnest.

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Lynsey leads P1

Lynsey took the first pitch, and as we had already climbed part of it unroped, she was confronted with the 5.8 bulge as her first move. Normally 5.8 is something we could do in our sleep, but the cold made it seem much harder. After a bit of grunting, she surmounted the bulge, and ran up the rest of the pitch to set up a belay. We had brought two ropes as we were a party of three, but Lynsey didn't feel confident following on a single 8mm, so one of them was a 10.2mm, and the other an 8mm. Jack and I silmul-followed, about 15 ft apart on different ropes, and joined Lynsey at the belay. I took the next section, and combined P2 and P3 (according to the supertopo), setting up a belay just beneath the dihedral. Jack took P4, the left facing red dihedral itself, that gives the climb its name, and slowly moved up it, exiting to the right and setting up a belay. As Lynsey and I followed, I understood why he was moving slowly - my hands were cold, my right foot was numb, my left foot kept on slipping off the polished, featureless face, and hand jams in the crack were often less than stellar. Nevertheless, it was an extremely fun pitch, though no doubt I would have enjoyed it more had I been warmer. The 10b exit move is pretty trivial, though there is some loose rock that one has to be careful not to pull on.

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Jack exits the red dihedral

I took the next section, linking P5 and P6 of the supertopo. Sometimes the supertopo gives too much information, making route finding more complicated than it needs to be. I had to pause a few times to try to sort out which little lines were which rock features in the topo, before finally picking a line and just heading up it. I set up a comfy belay on a nice ledge, and brought Jack and Lynsey up to me. Lynsey took the next pitch, which had a beautiful 5.9 splitter hand crack. As I belayed her up it, the sun finally peeked over the top of the mountain, and I was able to luxuriate in its warmth. However, just as I would begin to get warm, the wind would pick up, and blow all the heat away, and soon I would be shivering again. The stupidest thing is that I had a down jacket in my pack, but I hadn't put it on, because whenever I had a moment free, it was usually at the end of a pitch, and I would be somewhat warmed up. As soon as I stopped moving I would get cold, but by then I would be busy belaying and wouldn't be able to get it out. Bugger! Finally, at the top of P7, as Lynsey was belaying Jack up the "Shattered Pillar" on P8, I pulled my jacket out and put it on. Ahhh, finally some warmth.

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Lynsey leading the splitter crack pitch, and Charles belaying, happy to be in the sun

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Really happy to be in the sun!

Lynsey took the last pitch before the notch, then we crossed over back into the shade to tackle the summit pitch. At least we were sheltered from the wind on this side, so we didn't miss the sun too much. Jack took the last pitch, which involved a bit of chimneying, a squeeze through, and a ton of rope drag. This pitch should definitely be broken down into at lest two, if not three. The squeeze finish was tight - no chance for a backpack, and careful maneuvering required if you had anything at your waist. The it was a short scramble up to the summit, where we signed the register, and admired the Hulk Superball, which has apparently been there for some thirty years! There were not very many entries in the register - maybe 15 for the past year, and a bunch of those were for hard routes like AstroHulk, Positive Vibrations, The Polish Route, and Sun Spot. Climbing as a party of three didn't take too much longer than if we had just been two, as the followers climbed at the same time. We figured that climbing as three cost us maybe an hour over the course of the day.

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Last pitch before the notch

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The summit pitch

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Group shot at the summit, with the Superball!

We began the descent at around 3:30PM. Going down the scree filled gully was hell, and took a long time. We didn't reach the base camp until around 5, where we ate and rested for a bit. We debated spending the night there, or heading out, and eventually chose to hike out, even if it meant doing part of it in the dark. I was getting a bit concerned about the time, as I didn't want to have to navigate the beaver dams in the dark, but I figured we could make the stream by 8-ish. We started hiking at around 6:15, setting a fairly brisk pace, and this time we followed the trail all the way out, ending up at the shore of Robinson Creek a little after 8PM. It was still light, and we could see that we were considerably west of where we had crossed on the way in. There's a big sand bar, and the stream is shallow there - we could even cross it without getting our feet wet, as there was a log bridge. Well, Jack and I were able to cross it without getting wet. Lynsey managed to step on a rotten section, which broke beneath her feet and sent her into the drink. Luckily she went in feet first, and it wasn't too deep, so her pack didn't get wet. Unfortunately her shoes got soaked, so she had to finish the hike in her sandals. We navigated the meadows back to the trail, managing to avoid the marshy areas (at least I managed to - I noticed some distinct wetness on Jack's shoes when we reached the trail), and ran into the wilderness sign just as we hit the trail. So, all those people who said that crossing the stream before the wilderness sign were lying, and I fully blame them for getting us so wet. Lynsey then took the lead, and set a blistering pace down the trail. We were back at the car an hour later, having managed the descent from the camp in just three hours. My knee survived the trip in reasonable shape (with the help of a good bit of vitamin I), but without the trekking poles I would have been toast. I'm now a firm believer in them - they make the ascents considerably easier and faster, and the descents are much kinder on the knees.

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One last shot of the Hulk, showing the route of the Red Dihedral

We sat around in the dark by the car for a while, recovering and eating a bag of chips. None of us felt like moving, but we had to get out of there, so we packed up and drove to the Mobil station in Lee Vining. It was long closed by the time we got there, but we made use of the picnic tables to cook up a quick dinner, before heading back up to Tioga Pass, where we crashed at our usual place. The next morning I awoke to discover that my legs were sore. I so rarely get sore muscles, that it was unusual and exciting experience. Well, the first few minutes were unusual and exciting. After the initial surprise wore off, I just felt sore.... We had another big breakfast at the TPR, and debated what to do with ourselves for the rest of the day. A dip in Tenaya Lake was definitely called for, but we had to occupy ourselves for a few more hours before that. We eventually hit upon a climb in the mid 11s that looked interesting, in an area with a short approach. I won't disclose the name and area here to keep the crowds down. Jack led the climb, which was trickier than it looked from the ground, and considerably dirtier too. I followed, and found it to be loads of fun. Meanwhile, Lynsey set up a fixed line to practice jugging, as she and Jack have plans for the Nose. We played on both lines for a while, and experimented with various hook aid placements at ground level. I had never placed a hook before, and was very interested to see what it could stay on, and what it couldn't. This aid stuff looks interesting - I'll have to get into that soon! We finally had enough, and drove on to Tenaya Lake, where Lynsey and I had a swim. Once again Jack refused to get in. We drove off to Oakdale for dinner at Jack's favorite taqueria, where once again he had a chicken (a la plancha) burrito. I shouldn't mock him about it though, as Lynsey and I did the same. We drove back to the Bay, and right around Walnut Creek, Lynsey got a phone call from Dan, where he announced that his car had broken down on the way back from Tahoe, 10 miles west of Davis. Argh! He was waiting for a tow-truck, which wouldn't arrive for another hour. In the end, she decided to get up early the next morning to drive out to pick him up, instead of waiting for a few hours before possibly driving out. Poor Lynsey! It turns out that Dan was able to get a tow all the way back to the Bay, saving Lynsey from having to drive out. Apart from that, it was a stellar weekend. I hope Nadine managed to send Warp Factor, as she missed out big time!