In early October Alan Krieg and myself traveled west to a recreational climb organized by GOTC. Compliments of Alan we flew first class, drinking coffee out of ceramic mugs and patting our faces with warm cloths from the flight attendant. We were a bit out of place and didn't quite realize it. We were going to climb the redwoods, first class.
California was dreary, with soaking showers falling down upon our arrival at San Jose Airport. We rented a car and drove 45 minutes north to our destination in the Santa Cruz Mountains. And in the rain and the fog and the approaching dark, the redwoods stood on the coast as we passed by, the tops of their canopies looming somewhere out of sight, above the weather.
On the first morning at Mount Hermon we ascended what came to be known as the 'The Trinity' tree. Essentially it was two trees, one with two large co-dominant stems and the other a separate stem (measuring 112.5" DCH and 91.5" DCH). I followed Alan up the redwood after a grueling session of shooting lines at a suitable tie-in point we could see. Line advances with a lanyard and a DRT system is basically how we climbed, me quite often sending my line up to Alan to be hand placed over a limb--first class. After making a traverse over to the other trunks of the trinity at about 100' in the air, we climbed up another thirty feet or so and found a pair of underwear, and a water bottle with a journal inside. We weren't the first to the top, but when we did reach the summit, the tree measured out at 185' gauged next to a 200' climb line. We camped out that night in Trinity at about 140'. It rained lightly, but we didn't get wet.
On the second day, after breakfast we walked down to a grove of large redwoods in the middle of a horseshoe lane of cabins on the property. In the grove stood three redwoods of significant girth, so I termed this grove 'The Three Little Pigs". The third tree at the bottom of the grove was free to climb, and so we started launching throwlines at it. Three hours later I decided to rework my ascent concept. Next to the large tree was a smaller redwood with some scaffold branches near 100' that I had a better angle on with a throwline shot. It worked, and just before dinner I was able to look over at the larger tree next to me at 100' to see Alan clinging to its bark and working his climb line around the trunk for a tie-in point to return to in the morning. There was still 80' of tree to go.
Lawrence Shultz, a stellar arborist from New York and our good friend joined us on the third day for the final ascent of our second tree. He was able to ascend Alan's line from the previous day, advance it and then take a DRT system from me at the top of the smaller redwood next to him. Being that Lawrence is a boss climber, I was able to traverse over to the larger redwood and join Alan and Lawrence and a number of other climbers at the top. It was a team effort and we enjoyed it, measuring out our second tree 182' high, with a DCH of 80.5".
We descended and ate lunch and then went for a hike through the creek valley in search of a third tree to climb. After a long walk and some contemplation of several different trees, we found one high up on the bank of the valley, and Lawrence hit a shot in the tree from a path even higher up on the bank. He installed a static line which was 200' long and barely reached the ground doubled over the tie-in point. A basal anchor was built and he disappeared up into the canopy, hand placed a throwline and descended with the California dusk. We would return the next day with an outstanding tie in point to climb up to and then advance, first class.
In the canopy of our third tree, Ginger as she came to be known, we realized that something was different in this tree. It was the foliage, which was not redwood in character at all. It was a sequoia.
The canopy of the sequoia was comparable to large wagon wheels stacked on one another. We hucklebucked our way up the tree into the upper reaches of its canopy and saw that 30' away from us was another sequoia. Lawrence set up an SRT system and limbwalked over to the second sequoia. Alan and I sent a DRT system over to him so that we could set up a double-crotched traverse. Once we reached the second tree, Lawrence was in a third, fifty or so feet below lounging in the bicep of a large scaffold limb.
With the Santa Cruz sun shining on us we measured the tree we ascended at 206'. And how fitting it was that the highest tree we climbed was our last. Far below us there was a group zip lining through the forest canopy. When they reached their final destination we heard that it was someone's birthday in the group, and they began singing happy birthday, and we joined in from 160' in the air. And the laughter from below seemed to be indicative that the heavens had opened up to them on their birthday.
From the top of that sequoia tree I looked out over a forest below me that mimicked the valley from which it sprang out of. The tree that we sat in was one of the higher points in that vista. And looking down I couldn't see the ground. In fact, you loose the concept of the ground. It vanishes. And sitting there in the top of that tree, higher than most things around, you realize that what's connecting you to the ground has some of the deepest roots on earth. And you feel more grounded than you ever have before.
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