In the early seventies I had been climbing in the ‘Gunks off and on for fifteen years and, having been a cautious venturer, had just recently been getting into leading the “sixes.” Such classics as “Disneyland,” “Middle Earth,” and “High Exposure” were behind me and so, one day with Sam Tatnall in 1973, we happened upon “Travels with Charley”—a 5.6 in Dick Williams’ new 1972 guidebook.
The left-facing corner on the first pitch seemed hard—and perhaps that should have told us something. However, I made it safely to the belay and brought up Sam.
The next pitch was steep and ended in a rising traverse up right, around a corner, and out of sight. It looked ominously as though there might be nowhere to stand in balance along the way. But heck, five-six? What could possibly go wrong?
The face was steep! Jugs up to the traverse but I was nowhere really in balance as I struggled with protection; years before SLCDs and still longer before TriCams.
At the traverse it was a relief to see a small Chouinard angle securely placed at its outset. I clipped, called down to Sam, took a deep breath, and set out. I wasn’t half way across when I realized my arms weren’t going to hold out. I shouted “Coming back!” followed almost immediately by “Falling!” The pin held. And I got my feet out just in time to swing safely into the wall. Sam came up, took the lead, and confidently did the traverse without stopping to protect it. I followed and just barely made it to the end. I had to un-crimp my hands at the belay.
The next year, having led more sixes and a few sevens, I found myself again at “Travels,” this time with my friend and uncommonly skilled climber Steve Angelini. The idea was that this time I would successfully lead the traverse. The pin was still there but when, inevitably, I felt my feet weren’t right and I banged my knees. Steve effortlessly did the lead and I followed with difficulty.
Then, in 1980, in Dick William’s new guidebook: “Travels with Charley”, 5.8. And, in subsequent volumes: 5.7+R and even 5.8-R! I guess the pin must long be gone.
Finally, sometime in the late seventies, I was yet again passing by—looking for “Gaston” with my friend Wes Grace. Yes! There was a guy just beginning the “Travels” traverse. I touched Wes on the shoulder and said “Hey wait, watch this.” We were not disappointed.