from Chris Jones Climbing In North America
Yosemite Valley. It is the Fourth of July weekend in 1957. The heat is oppressive, and the campgrounds are overflowing. The roads are crowded with cars that make their way from viewpoint to store and back to viewpoint. Tourists idly drink Coke and tap time to the radio as they cruise up and down. They are in Yosemite for a good time. The scenery may be a bonus, but many of them would just as soon be at Las Vegas. They look upon Yosemite as an outdoor amusement park. There is a sense of bored pleasure seeking in the air.
This sense of ennui contrasts with the urgency of three grimy young men. They, too, seem oblivious to the scenery, but they are not bored. Harding, Feuerer, and Powell have just been aced out of Half Dome and are earnestly discussing their next move. A climbing revolution is about to take place in Yosemite, a revolution that in less than ten years will put American climbers at the forefront of the sport and influence mountaineering all over the world.
After grumbling around the valley in a "fit of egotistical pique," Harding decided to cap the Half Dome climb by a harder one. He looked across at the 3,000-foot south buttress of El Capitan and emphatically stated, "I'm gonna climb that god-damn line."
