Return to El Capitan

There is undeniable elegance to El Capitan, despite its sheer mass and daunting vertical face.

From the very moment I entered the park I felt embraced by raw beauty. Mountain Hemlock, oak, and ancient sequoia trees and rivers of crystal-clear water weaving their way over the valley floor. It was early spring and the waterfalls abundantly flowed off cliffs that were so high they seemed to come from heaven.

As I got closer to El Capitan, its boxy table appearance reminded me of an imperfect sandcastle—or even a crumbling mid-century fortress. The granite face is laced with shades of light gray, creamy white, and golden vanilla streaks that give the appearance of melting ice cream.

The meadow below unfolds like a vast auditorium, where visitors lounge on grass and wildflowers. Binoculars and telephoto lenses focus on climbers scaling El Capitan's epic granite stage. The meadow gives one a view of the south and southeast side of El Capitan. Standing there and looking up, I felt both incredibly insignificant but also inspirited — I was reminded of nature's ability to humble one's soul and be inspiring all at once.

I walked across the street from the meadow and found a narrow path that led me towards the great wall of granite. It was mostly shaded by evergreens and easy to follow until the path was replaced with large boulders, loose talus and mangled tree roots. I was told it was best to not walk too close to the wall due to falling climbing gear, so I took an imaginary route through the trees and over giant boulders.

Each step I took I thought of Balin hauling up his gear, water and food for a week on the wall. I kept thinking how incredibly challenging it was for me hiking to the base of the mountain with only a 12 oz plastic water bottle and my phone. How did Balin haul an estimated 100 lbs over the rugged terrain and then haul it up a vertical 3000 feet? I finally stopped to rest. I leaned my back into the wall and rested my body against the warm rock looking up to find the blue sky. The granite wall held my gaze upward like a powerful magnet. I kept searching to find the cliff's edge, but the wall was so high that it was impossible to tell where the summit resided and the sky began.

Sunlight danced across the granite surface, making some sections appear smooth and polished, almost like marble. In stark contrast, other areas looked raw and unforgiving, with jagged rock edges and loose talus fields that felt powerful and intimidating. The immense scale of the rock completely redefined my sense of perspective and deepened my respect for any climber who dared to challenge the ancient cliff face.

My heart overflowing with sadness and pride I made my final steps to the area where I believed the base of Sea of Dreams was. I noticed a tuft of grass growing in a notch high up in the rock. It was a perfect ledge to carefully place one glass orange heart. I hope that the heart will be a reminder to anyone who finds it to take extra care when climbing and remember Balin's story.

We are so incredibly proud of Balin's vigor, and unwavering tenacity to achieve great things. We hope that his life inspires others to live a bold happy life and that his death reminds one to take extra care especially when the risk of failure is immeasurable.