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Jan Tiura
Photographer, tugboat captain, and adventure guide By Chris VanLeuven While her time as a...
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Tag: Doug Robinson
Climbing in a Winter Wonderland
For California climbers the intersection of the Owens Valley, the Great Basin and the Mojave desert form a dramatic paradise of stone. whether you want to boulder, clip bolts or belay from your bumper, you can scratch that itch on the quartz monzonite and volcanic tuff between the friendly towns of Bishop and Lone Pine.
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Buttermilk, Sweet and Sour
For a while I fancied that I had invented the Buttermilk. After all, in 1969 I made the first ascent of the biggest boulder by roping up, placing two or three nuts, and even sinking a couple of bolts to protect the 5.8 crux, which edged out above the lip of an overhang.
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Royal Robbins
A black Land Rover seemed to glide up the dirt road. We were pulling ropes out of cars and packing lunches; in the mid-1990s my climbing students were jazzed to be at Wamello Dome, a little-known destination of superb granite up an obscure logging road halfway between Yosemite and Fresno.
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Ten Favorite High Sierra Climbs
Short pants and sunny High Sierra granite on the East Buttress of El Capitan, with a sweeping view of the Cathedral Rocks from the belay; this is as good as it gets.
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Doug Robinson and the Extreme Bohemians
In March of 1970 Doug Robinson skied the entire John Muir Trail from Whitney Portal to Yosemite. His partner for this adventure was Carl “Peanut” McCoy, former downhill ski racer and son of the Mammoth Mountain McCoys, builders of the well-known ski resort. Spending weeks unsupported in the winter wilderness was a radical undertaking, but for Doug the journey was a natural progression. Increasingly Doug was pursuing a lifestyle of full time, hardcore adventure in the Sierra.
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Like Surfers Gone Alpine
“What is alpinism, anyway?” Terry Kearney was starting to rave as we burned through the last of our fuel. It was the morning after our second bivy. The sun played coy with our perch on the north face of Birch Mountain, in the outer orbit of the Palisades. “Is it all speed-aided 72-hour push up some heinous M8 wall? Is it just Steve House and the latest mad Hungarian? I love reading about that stuff, but I’ll never touch it. Maybe it’s more like two old men sharing one Ramen and no coffee for breakfast.”
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