For more than half a decade, Tommy Caldwell and Kevin Jorgeson dreamed of climbing the forbidding granite face of El Capitan's Dawn Wall, considered the most difficult face of the world's most difficult rock to climb.
On Wednesday afternoon, that dream became a reality for the two climbers as they reached the summit of El Capitan to the cheers of loved ones and friends waiting for them at the top of the rock. After 19 exhausting days of scaling the rock's 3,000-foot vertical face, with nothing but their fingers - Caldwell only has nine - to help them hold on to the razor-sharp rock ledges and often dime-sized holds to keep them from falling off the wall, Caldwell and Jorgeson have achieved what many experts in the climbing world have only deemed in the past to be impossible.
By no means is this the first time the forbidding Dawn Wall was climbed. In 1970, Warren Harding and Dean Caldwell (not related to Tommy) successfully scaled the Dawn Wall with the help of more than 300 bolts and hundreds of feet of rope to pull themselves up. That journey lasted 27 days. Caldwell and Jorgeson had no bolts, cables, and other such climbing equipment to propel them upwards. Their journey was literally in their hands, only using ropes to which they are harnessed to prevent them from dropping off the face of the wall in case they fall, and fall they did several times. They lasted an entire 19 days -- starting on Dec. 27 and culminating on a clear, cold day on Wednesday, Jan. 14.
During the entire time, crowds of mesmerized viewers and supporters gathered below in the El Cap Meadow of Yosemite National Park to cheer the climbers on. Caldwell and Jorgeson couldn't have accomplished the nearly impossible feat without the help of friends who were more than happy to bring up food, supplies, and water every few days. They pitched tent on a platform as big as a double bed hanging from bolts attached to the wall and ate whole wheat bagels with cream cheese, salmon, and salami in the morning while sipping whiskey during the nights. They saw their urine evaporate in mid-air and sent down wag bags - toilet bags - to friends who disposed of them.
The climb consisted of 32 pitches, or sections that are connected to each other like the lines in a dot drawing. By virtue of the unspoken but sacred climbing code, for each time the climbers fell off the rock, they had to go back down to climb the entire pitch again. The first six days saw them scaling the first 14 pitches with relative ease. These are some of the hardest portions of the wall to climb. During the several times the partners attempted to scale the wall in practice runs, they never made it past pitch 12, but when they finished pitch 14 on New Year's Day, they knew they had a chance at success.
However, 30-year-old Jorgeson stalled on pitch 15. While 36-year-old Caldwell, the more experienced climber, was on a roll until the 20th pitch, Jorgeson was struggling through pitch 15 on his bandaged and bloody fingers. With the threat of a looming weather front, Caldwell would have to decide whether to move on without his partner. But Jorgeson made it through on Jan. 9, giving the duo a new jolt of energy and determination as they went on with the climb.
"After six years of work, my Dawn Wall quest comes down to sending this pitch," he posted on Facebook the day before he made it through pitch 15. "Last night, I experienced a lightness and calm like never before. Despite failing, it will always be one of my most memorable climbing experiences. On my fourth attempt, around 11 p.m., the razor-sharp holds ripped both the tape and the skin right off my fingers. As disappointing as this is, I'm learning new levels of patience, perseverance and desire. I'm not giving up. I will rest. I will try again. I will succeed."
On Monday, Jan. 12, the men got past 2,000 feet of the hardest climbing in the world. Up ahead was not as difficult. Compared with what they had just been through, the last thousand feet was a walk in the park.
"I grew up a clumsy kid with bad hand-eye coordination," says Caldwell. "Yet here on El Cap I felt as though I had stumbled into a world where I thrived. Being up on those steep walls demanded the right amount of climbing skill, pain tolerance, and sheer bull-headedness that came naturally to me."
Caldwell, who started climbing at three years old, is the perfect man for such a quest, even though, in 2001, he accidentally cut his left index finger off while working at a table saw. Being left with only nine fingers isn't a life-threatening situation, but for one whose passion involved hanging to life by his fingers, the accident was devastating. Doctors told him he would never be able to climb again, but five months later, he succeeded in free-climbing El Capitan's 3,000-foot Salathé Wall in less than 24 hours.
One of his life's most defining moments was when he and three other climbers were kidnapped by rebels in Kyrgyzstan. At one point, Caldwell found himself and his companions alone with just one rebel, whom he pushed off a cliff, allowing them to escape.
"When he first came back, it was very, very difficult, because he thought he had killed somebody, and he's a very gentle soul," says Terry, Caldwell's mother. "Until we found out that the Kyrgyzstan army had picked up the man and he had survived. He sees life in a different way now. He now sees that on the other side of cold and hunger and hardship there is joy. He found that when he pushes himself to his very limit and there is joy on the other side."
Jorgeson started climbing when he was 11 and started competing when he was 16. In 2009, he cemented for himself a reputation as a powerful climber when he ascended the intricately difficult Ambrosia boulder in Bishop, Calif. Since his 16th birthday, the Santa Rosa-born boulder climber has made it a yearly tradition to visit Yosemite for bouldering.
"The granite here has defined my style and what I like to see out," Jorgeson says. "It's been hugely influential in leading up to what I'm doing right now on the Dawn Wall."
Jorgeson first heard of Caldwell through the cult classic climbing film "Progression," which was shot by a group of filmmakers documenting Caldwell's progress in planning the route to the top of the Dawn Wall in 2008. He immediately called up Caldwell to tell him he wanted to make the climb with him. Over the last six years, the partners have grown together in a friendship solidified by their common passion.
"Tommy and I have very different attitudes and personalities," Jorgeson says. "But I think they balance each other out really well. Tommy's optimism is, in a lot of ways, why this route is coming together. It would be really easy to write off the Dawn Wall as impossible over the last six years. I've benefited from having that optimistic attitude in my life for this project."
For Caldwell, the Dawn Wall was not just another challenging wall to climb. The quest represents all he has learned about life and wants to share with his 21-month-old son.
"Dawn Wall is the perfect venue for some of the most important values I want to show Fitz," he says on Instagram. "Optimism, perseverance, dedication and the importance of dreaming big."
