My Ascent of El Cracko Diablo 03OCT09

Friday night, the Second of October, I had a hard time sleeping. I was just too excited. Tossed, turned, different bed, blah, blah, blah. Woke up, on the Third of October, said good morning to my buddy and his parents. I had met his Mother the night before, and she had agreed to make pancakes that morning. Met My buddy's Father. Super nice family. The two brothers showed up about 8 am, and we looked at the gear we were going to use, and then loaded up. It took us about a half hour to drive to Devils Tower. The picture below was the first time I'd ever laid eyes on the tower. It rose above most everything in the area, and as you can see, it stuck out.

So, I pulled over the vehicle and took a few photos. The others were very anxious to get there, so I was a little rushed. I don't think they understand how photographers work.

We drove up a bit further, and there was a HUGE pulloff on the side of the road for all the tourists to pull over so they can snap a picture similar the the one below. I had to do it, I couldn't resist. Besides, it was the off season, and there was no one around.

Both the photo above, and below were from the same spot. Pretty standard shots.

We drove into the park, paid our $10 access fee, and then found our spot in the empty parking lot. There were a few others there to take in the sites, and walk around the tower. There was a group of three guys talking to a Fourth I immediately recognized from all the web research I'd done. It was Frank, the notorious guide from the area. Quite the celebrity in these parts. He saw us, and said, "Well, we are we climbing today fellas?" I responded with, "El Cracko Diablo." He said, "Me too, let's go!" After checking in, and putting our emergency contact info down for the park rangers, we started on our way. Below are my three climbing partners.

We hiked in along the asphalt trail that was laid down to keep down the erosion. We made comments about how most places would sue you for damages for spilling a single drop of oil on the ground, and yet, here we were surrounded by asphalt that has a bunch of "Controlled" oil spillage that surrounds Devils Tower. Kind of funny when you think about it. There were quite a few openings in the trees so you could get a good clear look at the tower. I snapped a few shots.

Then we wandered off the asphalt trail and headed up a small pathway that lead to rocks, rocks, and more rocks. We climbed up, we climbed down, and by the time we got to our route, we were already about 1/3 of the way up. Time to gear up, and get started with out day. It was sometime between 9 and 10 am. I don't think any of us checked our watches. We just wanted to climb. So, we chat amongst ourselves and with Frank, and notice there is a rope going to the top already. Frank had been here a little earlier that morning, free climbed the route, and set his rope. As we were all still messing around putting our gear on, and deciding who was going to climb when, Frank had started, and was halfway up the first pitch. We watched him effortlessly climb all the way to the top of the second pitch with out stopping. I think he climbed up that route 3 times by the time our lead man got up to the first pitch.

This was the group gearing up to climb for the day.

These two shots are from the first pitch. Where the guy in blue is there is about a 2" ledge and 2 bolts to set up your hanging belay anchor system. It looks like there is more than just a toe's width ledge there, but I spent half the day there.

I climbed second, so I could get our leader up to the top, and I would follow, so I could get some good photos. As our leader neared the top, his knife opened in his cargo pocket, cut it's way out of the pocket, and came zipping down toward my head! I yelled, "KNIFE!", and got as close to the rock as possible. It wizzed by about a foot or so from my helmeted head. I turned and looked down, and yelled "KNIFE!" again. The two below dodged the whirling blade as it bounced near then, and continued to plummet to its resting place along the asphalt footpath below. There had been a bus load of tourists that passed earlier, and lucky for everyone, no one was near the path. Our spectators,(Buddies Mom, Dad, and grandparents; and brothers' Dad and older brothers wife), ended up recovering the knife, and telling us how lucky we were. I think the Tower was out to warn us, or get us at this point.

Sometimes, the best plans don't happen how you want them to. Our younger brother part of the crew had never climbed before, so he followed me. Since he didn't know much about climbing, we all wanted to make sure he got up safe. He did really well, and climbed better than I did I believe!


Here is the youngest of our crew climbing up the second pitch. This was taken from the hanging belay position at the top of the first pitch.

My buddy, who was the last one at the bottom climbed up to me as I belayed him. I was excited. It was my turn to go up the second pitch. The top was right there. As the younger brother got to the top, and just out of site, a tiny rock, fell from above, and nailed me right on top of my helmet. It might be a good time to point out that I was the only one wearing a helmet out of the 4 of us. AND I'M THE ONE THAT GOT HIT! WTF? Seriously, if you are going to climb, get some protection for your head! It's not going to keep you from bashing your brains all over the side of the rock, but it will keep you from ending a sweet day of climbing because a small rock hit you on the head from 100 ft above.

I started my climb, and maybe got 10 feet up, and my buddy say, "Uh, hold on a minute. The second rope is caught in the crack below you." I thought to myself, Really? Are we having that kind of luck today? We couldn't shake it loose, so I rappelled down 3/4 of the first pitch, and it just pulled right out. There was some magic hand that held my brand new rope there until I got to a certain point down the pitch, and then just let it go. Me being the super man I thought I was decided I was going to Ascend up the rope, only, I had both ends of the rope with me. I ended up getting about 10 feet up on my rigged weird ascension set-up before I called it quits. Told my buddy to set up a belay, and I re-climbed a crappy 3/4 of the first pitch.

Now that I was back on the hanging belay ledge and totally smoked, I told my buddy he was going next up the second pitch. By this point, it was after noon. I hung out yet again. Literally. The Day was only about half over.

Before my buddy climbed up to me, and I rappelled down to get the rope unstuck only to re-climb again, the was the rope connecting my buddy and I. I thought it made for a nice photo.

Allright, so hanging from the top of the first pitch, I waited for everything to get setup for my buddy to climb. Sooner than later, he was on belay and heading up the crack. He paused a time or two, but really, he was the one that sped up this pitch of the climb. He had the best time by far. I was about to confirm this fact.

After waiting a bit for them to let me know it was my turn to start my struggle, I cleaned our gear off the anchors and started up. The first 20 feet or so wasn't bad. I was pretty confident. Making good progress, and feeling good suddenly turned into a fight. After watching the other 3 and Frank climb this route before me, I figured I'd be able repeat their movements. Much easier thought than actually accomplishing the feat.

There was a new group of people who showed up down below. Frank was with them, and I could hear them commenting about how disappointed they were that there was a group of us on El Cracko Diablo. First come first serve I guess.

I continued to fight up, and gained some ground. After getting up another 10 feet or so, I hit the crux of the route. There was a lot of scary shot falls I took. They had me on a pretty tight belay, and I basically inched my way up falling here and there after my pumped arms gave way. I let out grunts and groans of frustration as I fought the crack. There was basically nothing to hold on to. I remember feeling the urge to give up, to quit. I'd go back to the anchors of the first pitch. Let them get to the top, and then go down. It seemed so easy.

I told myself not to quit. Quitting was too easy at this point. I still had fight in me. I let out louder belts of anger and frustration, gaining motivation from how good it felt to get it all out. I kept going, dangling less on the rope, and moving up more on my own power. I did it. I soon met the rest of my group. All of us were pleased. We weren't up just yet.

We packed up our gear, and started the scramble to the top. Not very technical climbing we made a 5 to 10 minute journey up easy 5th class bouldering to the summit. Shaky from the physical exertion we made the flat ground. I pulled out my sweater and put it on, even though the chill hadn't set in just yet. Our lead climber said, "If you loved me, you'd give me that sweater." I didn't know what to say, and I selfishly kept it on.

I shared my snacks, and pulled out the camera.
The three of my climbing mates and my shadow on the summit of Devils Tower with the moon in the background, and the sun setting.

It was a site to appreciate, but as I was the only one with a sweater, and the sun falling quickly, we needed to get down. I tried to get some good photos, and as I was rushed, I didn't do the job I should have. Here are a few of those shots.

The summit with the Summit log. We all signed and dated it.


The sun setting silhouetting the Missouri Buttes in the distance. The last sun rays of the day.

The beautiful colors of the sunset. It felt good to see this.
With the last of the pictures to be snapped, My buddy and I posed quickly before preparing for our descent.
Me, on top of Devils Tower, or the world, it all felt the same at this point.

Well, since we were losing light, I pulled the headlamp from my bag and affixed it to my head. We were most certainly going to need some light. The moon was full, and was giving us some light, but the 3 LED's gave us what we needed.

The 2 ropes we climbed with needed to be tied to one another as each pitch was longer than one rope doubled up. I was the last one to rappel from each station. Last one up, last one down. I guess it all works well. When I got down to the top of the first pitch where I spent so much time earlier that day, my partners had some bad news for me. My rope, which had only been climbed on 3 times before was stuck below us, and needed to be cut in order for us to make it down the last rappel. As I was the only one with a knife at this point, I had to perform the operation. With the rope freed, we could now pull the rope from above, and continue to the bottom, well at least where we left our gear and boots.

Approximately 40 feet had been severed from my rope. It may still work for some of the sport routes I climb near Laramie, but it was better to be down than stuck on the face of the tower. We packed up all our gear, and to our surprise, a headlamp was found that none of the other three had brought. Armed with 2 headlamps now, we headed down the boulder field at the bottom. There were some steep drops, and they looked a little more frighting in the dark. After about 10 min of down climbing some rocks, we stumbled onto the footpath. It was now about 9 pm. What a day.

We were met in the parking lot by our worried spectators. All of them asked if I was o.k., because they heard me grunting and groaning, screaming and yelling. They thought I had hurt myself, and all I was trying to do was summon the strength to climb a bit further. I felt bad I had worried them, but it was not really at the fore front of my thoughts. I'd just climbed Devils Tower. It was a struggle and a fight, and I had won. My poor rope has been a casualty of the battle, but in the end, no one was injured. As we stowed our gear in the vehicles, I stopped for one last picture.

The moon was rising up behind Devils Tower.

We drove back to my buddies parents place talking the whole way about the adventure. More stories were told when we got there, and we eventually turned in for the night. I had a hard time sleeping even though I had worked so hard. My scrapes and achy muscles made it difficult to sleep. The slightest move woke me, but I did get some rest.

That was my account of my adventure climbing Devils Tower. These pictures can be viewed on my Flickr Account Rock Climbing Photo Set