The Big Rescue

By Peder Ourom, January 2025

Part 1 Yosemite Rescue 1980

How a Scottish base jumper needed all his strength and skills to survive both a failed base jump in Yosemite, and the rescue and desperate retreat that followed. His name was Billy Glasgow, and he climbed the hardest pitch ever accomplished on El Capitan.  Here is the real story of what happened over the next two days and nights, and what our rogue Canadian rescue team pulled off. I know, because I was part of the team.

The three Scottish travellers had just moved into the campsite beside us in Camp 4, Yosemite National Park, California. Almost everyone at camp was a climber except for this little group of three. Fortunately, they were very friendly neighbours and kept us entertained well into the night after the weak Colt 66 beer finally took effect.  Their official story was that they were on holiday in America, hiking and touring around the country. Their “actual” story was a little more interesting. Our camping neighbours eventually let it slip that their real reason for visiting Yosemite, and other places, was to BASE jump from the top of many of the best-known jumping locations in America. El Capitan would be the final jump of their “holiday,” a 3000’ plunge down the immense Dawn Wall. This was something we had suspected, as they had that crazed look in their eyes that many climbers shared, and had been very evasive about what they were actually doing in Yosemite.    

Not many climbers were hanging around Camp 4 that October day in 1980.  Peter Croft had just finished his first climb of the Nose route, and was in the Mountain Room Bar celebrating the achievement, when Billy asked him an interesting question. Overhearing that Peter had just climbed El Cap, he wanted to know if there were rangers on the top, lurking behind trees to arrest base jumpers. This was a common myth at the time. For the jumpers, the reality was that it was a lot easier for the rangers to just wait in the meadow at dawn and have them land in their lap. Upon hearing that no sign of a summit stakeout existed, the rather tipsy jumping team stated that they would be heading up immediately to jump at dawn when the air was calm. Peter thought this unlikely. After all, most late-night plans made in this bar usually dissipated by early the next morning, when the beer buzz had worn off.

It is also a multiple hour hike to get to the top. Up the Yosemite Falls trail in the dark, and then hunting for the correct spot at the top by first light.  Our jumpers had visited this spot at the top of the Dawn Wall previously, in order to dial in the approach. It features a multiple hour steep uphill hike, confusing terrain, and a little Manzanita thrashing now and then.  This was a motivated jumping team.

The next morning was a rare and well-deserved rest day for Peter.  Proud, tired, and sore, with a big fat smile on his face, and with nothing on his schedule except hanging in the meadows and relaxing, and watching other climbers move slowly upward on the monster cliff.

Unfortunately, the climbing gods and El Capitan had a different plan for him.

The moment Billy’s jumping partners saw a few Canadian climbers return in the afternoon, they rushed over to the Canadian site, and had a rather unusual request. Simon Tooley, Jean McCrae, Rob Orvig and I had just returned from shorter climbs at Reed’s Pinnacle and The Cookie Cliff. When we heard of their request, we knew that the task would require a climbing superhero. We needed to find Croft.

Eventually Peter returned to camp, and was immediately cornered by the other two Scottish lads, Billy’s partners. They were both very excited and quite panicked, and had a very interesting tale to tell. Their jumping partner Billy was stuck up on Lay Lady ledge. Located about 800’ off the ground at the bottom of the right side of El Cap towers, this ledge is one of the best natural ledges on El Cap. Billy was stranded on the huge cliff, with no ropes or climbing gear, and very little knowledge of the techniques and equipment that would be needed to rescue him.  The two base jumpers had previously asked the four of us to attempt a rescue on El Capitan, and now with our rope gun Peter we had a team of five. Immediately we started prepping equipment.

There was one campsite that Billy’s partners avoided like the plague. This was the rescue site, a place where climbers were actually paid to go on official rescues. Finding top level skilled rescuers to assist for free, was not going to happen. The Canadian campsite was located a stone’s throw away, and we had to keep the rescue plan from spreading. The rescue would need to be done in stealth mode….

At that time, you would be placed in jail for weeks if caught. Note this detail: there is a federal court, complete with jail cells, in the back of the village. Gear would be seized, fines and a jail sentence would be handed down.  In the decades that followed, the landing zone in the meadow was often staked out by the rangers at dawn and dusk as these are the safest jumping times when the air is the quietest.

Twenty years after our rescue on the Nose, Yosemite rangers were still staking out, chasing, and arresting jumpers. On June 09, 1999 Frank Gambalie 3rd landed successfully in El Capitan’s meadow and then drowned in the Merced River attempting to escape.  A jump “protest” was then held, and tragically the final jump by very experienced jumper Jan Davis ended when her chute never opened as she plunged down the face of El Capitan in front of horrified family and friends.

Part Two The Story Unfolds

Here is how Billy’s story unfolded:

Billy’s team of three made it to the top of El Capitan in the dark, and at first light prepared to leap off into the void. They were an exceptionally enthusiastic and committed team, and the night approach had sweated out most of the previous evening’s beer loads. It was now time to sprint and leap off the cliff top.  Our first two jumpers had no problems, their 3000’ “huck” was successful, and they landed in the meadows, no rangers to be seen. I have no idea how anyone can stand in this exposed place and do this, it would be frightening beyond belief. The intensity of the void pulls at you and repels you at the same time. If you have ever stood in this spot, you will understand the feeling.

For our third intrepid jumper, things did not work out as planned. Upon “exiting” from the top of the Dawn Wall, Billy Glasgow noticed that he had a major problem.  His chute lines were twisted, so that when he opened his chute it turned him back toward the cliff. This was a bad thing. Packing their chutes in the dark, to avoid being noticed and arrested by the rangers, is not a recommended practice for BASE jumpers.  For two thousand feet, semi falling down the wall, Billy pushed away from the rock face with his legs, but unfortunately the twisted lines turned him slowly back to face the wall. This happened a number of times.  Eventually he impacted then stopped on Lay Lady ledge, 800’ above the ground. He was trapped on the huge granite face.

Days later, after the epic rescue and storm were over, you could see little strips of torn white parachute cloth on many of the remaining Dawn Wall bolt studs.

Billy did have one option to get down to base of the cliff, and he considered it. He could have attempted to reinflate the remains of his mangled chute and “launch” off the ledge, and swoop gracefully down to the meadows, solving his predicament. The reality of course, was that he would have either bounced or free fallen for 800’ down the smooth 75-degree granite slabs, and even if he somehow managed to get airborne his chances of clearing the monster 150’ trees at the base were slim to none.

Part 3 Hatching the Rescue Plan

Having just climbed the route the day before, Peter was now considered a Nose expert. We were lucky he was in Yosemite. In college two years previously, he was given an aptitude test. A week later the results came in. Sitting down with the counsellor, he was advised that he was most suited to be a Funeral Home Director.  In 1976 and 1977 this corpse career nonsense had prevented Peter from going to Yosemite. In 1978 he was landed on and injured by an off-route Japanese climber on the Royal Arches, missing this season as well. So now in Oct 1980, he was fit, healthy, and available. None of the rest of us could climb well enough to lead at the speed required to get half way up El Cap overnight. I had climbed up the Stoveleg cracks toward El Cap towers the previous summer with John Rosholt, hammering in both Bong pitons and Chouinard Hexentrics, for protection, and it had taken two days. We also never made it to El Cap towers. Peter would end up leading these climbing pitches at rocket speed.

We didn’t actually know if it was against the law in Yosemite to do your own technical rescue, but this seemed likely as Judge Pitts was very creative in his court room. We did not want to find out, and it became our top-secret mission to rescue the noble trapped base jumper, a brother in adventure kind of thing.

Over the next few hours, as we returned back to the Canadian Site from our climbs, plans were hatched for the rescue. It had to be stealth rescue, unreported and unnoticed, however it would be completely visible to everyone in the meadows. Our team was organized and plans were made, and by mid-afternoon we headed down to El Cap. It was just the kind of anti-authoritarian adventure that we thrived on, and we were both thrilled and nervous to be involved. Mother Nature however, had different plans, and wanted to hold on to the trapped base jumper just a little longer. A storm front was approaching, and we would need to be quick.

The lead rescuer was Peter Croft, accompanied by his relatively inexperienced climbing partner, Rob Orvig. None of us were very experienced in any case.

The ground controller jobs were given to Jean, Simon, and I.  It was a very miniscule team, for what would be a very difficult rescue. By mid-afternoon, Peter and Rob headed up the first four pitches to Sickle Ledge. Featuring mixed free and aid, they wanted to climb past these tricky leads to better position themselves for the long day that would inevitably follow. Arriving at Sickle Ledge at 6:30 pm, just as the sun set, they rested a bit and organized for the rescue attempt early the next morning. Our intrepid rescuers had extra food, water, clothes, and three ropes, two thick 11mm ropes, and an extra 9mm thin rope. They also had no idea if the rescue would end up going sideways.

To further complicate the situation, a pinch of Cirrus cloud had appeared in the West, and we would be hard pressed to finish the rescue before the forecasted storm front arrived.

Early the following morning, we headed down to the meadows to check on their progress, and they were moving quickly up Stoveleg cracks, arriving on the top of El Cap towers in the afternoon.

The pitches they climbed included the sideways pendulum sprint to the Stovelegs, a pitch that would be impossible if the rock was wet.  With our rope gun and super hero Peter leading the way, it was looking like we might have a chance to pull this rescue off.

 It was our rock spiderman, with hands that gripped holds, instead of throwing spinning webs, that had made it possible.

Peter and Rob now lowered ropes and equipment down the right side of the Towers, right onto Lay lady ledge hundreds of feet below. Rescue gear had finally arrived for Billy, as well as the storm. High winds were blowing an extremely ugly storm front directly at them. It was going to be an evil night for all three of them.

Our job as the ground team members, was to call the rangers for help if an organized rescue was needed, and then take the blame for the ill-conceived rescue attempt. None of us were volunteering to be the first to notify them. Although, as the stormy night progressed, it was seeming more and more likely that a phone call would be in order. This call would also be very difficult without phones or radios, or abandoning our positions at the base of the Nose.  We also had no ability to contact the climbers, and no way to get equipment to them. Many times throughout the long night, we discussed running down to the road, in the hope that a passing ranger could be flagged down. We resisted, but it was close.

Part 4 Meanwhile 1200’ Above us on El Cap Towers

Lay Lady ledge was about 400’ below them, Peter and Rob were able to position themselves a little lower, down at the point where the rock went overhanging below them. From this point they could tie together their 2 thick ropes, and lower to the climber a pack of ascending equipment. Billy was 300’ below them. It was his second night on the ledge. He had spent the hours wrapped up in the remains of his chute, way in the far back of the ledge, hiding from the spying eyes of rangers.  He heard a bunch of shouting, and then a pack suddenly appeared from above. It was a miracle from the heavens. Around this time, the winds picked up and Peter and Rob disappeared in the clouds. It would be a race to complete the rescue before they were all hammered by the storm.

After a short period of time, Billy, our intrepid jumper, attached the newly arrived Jumar clamps to the rope, stood in the webbing ladders that accompanied them,  and slowly started moving upward. The rock is overhanging here, so any ascending of the rope is accomplished with a spinning factor for added fun. To ascend a rope safely in these conditions, an experienced climber would have two independent ascenders clipped on to the rope at all times, and to the harness. These two points of attachment would enable you to rest your arms on the ascent.

Our jumper was not an experienced climber, and upon arrival at the top of the Jumar ascent Peter was horrified to see that Billy had ascended the ropes just hanging onto the clamps with his hands.

He had been assured that Billy knew how to use the clamps, however this was now proved to be incorrect. Billy had not been attached from his harness to the ascenders, and could not rest as he ascended the rope. He had been jerkily moving upwards inches at a time, while slowly rotating in space, way up on a huge cliff. If at any time his poor grip on the Jumar clamps had slipped, this story would have ended much differently. Billy was having a very eventful afternoon on El Cap.

The most dangerous moment was upon arriving at the spot where the two ropes were knotted together.  One ascender would need to be completely removed to complete the knot pass, an extremely dangerous task in regular conditions. After two days stranded, Billy was also hoarse from dehydration and yelling. Peter and Rob could yell at him, but could not hear any response. No communication was possible.

Twisting and spinning on the overhanging rock, his survival depended on not letting go with either hand on the Jumar clamp, for perhaps two hours. Sort of a hanging on for your life kind of thing.  When he finally came into view, Peter and Rob reached down and grabbed him, and pulled him up to the ledge, aghast that he had not attached the clamps to his harness.  Billy had just completed the hardest pitch ever ascended on El Cap, and he wasn’t even a climber.

As the team prepared for the multiple rappels that would be required to reach the ground, Billy immediately proceeded to speed guzzle two quarts of water, eat some snacks, and have a little rest.

Part 5 Mother Nature

Unfortunately, El Cap and Mother Nature were not quite finished with our rogue rescue team. From El Cap tower, Peter would go down first each time, and then anchor the ropes. Billy would descend next, after the Figure 8 rappel device was attached to the rope.  He would need to control his own descent, until arriving at the next station. Rob would follow making sure that the ropes were “clean,” and could be pulled down and reused for the next rappel. Any twisting of the ropes would result in the team being stranded, at a hanging belay. Repeated 15 times, this would get them down to the ground. As rivers of rain ran over them, the team continued.  The descent worked according to plan for the first half, and it was starting to look like El Cap had released them from its clutches.

Unfortunately, this was a premature thought, as the storm now hit them hard.

To retreat at the time from El Cap towers to the ground was not easy. The descent often went sideways as you traversed over toward Sickle Ledge. One of the anchor points was 40’ sideways and impossible to reach in the wet conditions. Our team was now fighting for their lives.  At some point in the storm, Peter, Rob, and Billy lost the rappel route, and conditions became desperate. Pathetic Wonder headlights and dreadful rain gear did not help the situation.  Hanging off random bolts on a smooth slab with icy sheets of water running over them, they were quickly becoming hypothermic. Billy attempted to wrap everyone in his reserve chute for a little shelter, however the severe winds made this next to impossible. The survival of all three was in question.

Around 500’ off the ground, Peter could not manage to attach to, or even find, the next anchor. Completely beat, he ascended back up the rope and it was Rob’s turn to go and try find the next anchor. It was more than possible that this would be where it ended for all of them. Billy suggested at this time that the rescue team leave him behind and save themselves, this was ignored of course. Banner in the Sky, go Rudi go!

The rescue team had no choice but to attempt to continue on the descent. 500’ off the deck, they tied all three ropes together and attempted to reach the ground. Unfortunately, this would require the hypothermic Billy to detach from the first rope as he passed the knot, and reset his rappel device on the other side of the knot, exhausted and hypothermic, in a howling storm.

This technique is difficult even for the most skilled climber. He would only have one chance to get this right. Billy finally managed to transfer successfully onto the lower rope, and continue his descent. Hypothermic, with frozen hands and fingers, Billy had pulled off a very technical and dangerous procedure.

You would definitely not call this a good teaching moment.

 Rob was by now pretty close to the “toe” of the Nose where the technical climbing starts, as they had retreated a huge distance sideways as well as down. One little issue that arose with the “tie the ropes together and go for the ground attempt,” was that the ropes did not reach the ground. Rob finally came into view descending out of the clouds, but was still stranded 50’ up. It was now dawn, so at least we could see the situation clearly.  I scrambled up and was able to toss another rope over to Rob and down they came, looking like Gaston Rebuffat with not a hair out of place.  

Unfortunately, this actually did not happen.

Part 6 What Happened Next

Two pitches off the ground, just after completing the knot transfer, Billy Glasgow let go. Unable to scream, he plunged down the entire rope to the bottom of a loop, that was created when his rescuers had clipped the end of the rope into the final station.  He had plummeted down the wall around 100’, although his descent had been slowed just a pinch by the wet ropes and the Figure 8 rappel device. It was a thin 9mm rope that held the monster fall.

Billy attempted to pay Peter and us for the rescue, and was turned down. Some things money just can’t buy.  Shaking Peter’s hand, Billy slapped some cash in his hand and ran off into the dark. It was almost the exact amount needed to fund an Ahwahnee Sunday brunch for the crew.

The luck of the Irish was with him that night. He had survived jumping off El Cap and not making it to the bottom.  With no food or water, he had survived two nights on the Wall. He had survived ascending a 300’ free hanging rope, without being attached to it. This is pretty much an impossible feat.  Next, he had plunged a whole rope length while rappelling, with no apparent injury. Finally, he completely let go 50’ above the ground, and was saved for a final time by Jean and Simon who grabbed the ropes and slowed his fall. The moment Rob was down we rushed him down to a waiting vehicle, with the heater cranked on full. His Valley season was now over.

I ascended the ropes two days later, in order to remove all the evidence. When I reached the anchor that had held his fall, I noticed the knot that had held the fall, and that I was ascending on, was crushed in the middle. The 9mm rope had almost completely cut through the thicker 11mm rope.

We all went out to the Ahwahnee Sunday brunch the morning after the rescue, before escaping Yosemite. It was an expensive treat, $10 per person, and I was surprised that they had the money. Performing clothing switches in the restaurant washroom, we cycled other climbers through the brunch as well. This cut the cost per person in half.

News of our rogue rescue adventure also swept Camp 4 the following morning. The Canadians, with guile and commitment and precision, (and with Peter Croft),  had performed a difficult and dangerous rescue. Organized on their picnic table, with no radios for communication, a stone’s throw from the official Rescue Site. A few of the real rescue team were pretty pissed off, as they would have made $$ if it was an organized rescue.  It was a proud day for our previously untested rescue team. For the first time, we were acknowledged by Bridwell, and he would give us a little nod of the head as we passed by. Come to think of it, maybe it was a shake, not a nod….

The stranded jumper finally managed to contact Peter a few years later. As he did not know his last name, this had proven to be very difficult. After Peter responded that he had rescued a base jumper, in a horrific storm, the jumper broke down in tears and hung up. The following day he called again, and many questions were answered.  He was very thankful of course, as the rogue rescue team of Canadian climbers, had saved his life at least a few times that night, and this would never be forgotten. So ends the true story of our rogue El Cap rescue, in a horrific storm, almost 50 years ago.

I often used to think about who has tried the hardest to survive a pitch on El Cap. For me, the two hours Billy spent Jumaring the rope from Lay Lady ledge up to El Cap towers, without being attached to either the Jumars or the rope, was the most difficult climb ever ascended on EL Cap.

And he wasn’t even a climber.