We stood atop El Capitan, sluggishly stuffing gear into a bag. Not one amongst us had the coherence to hold a conversation. Little more than the occasional "I can't believe we actually just did that" was exchanged. Brandon and Lance had been dreaming of pushing the Reticent Wall for years. Now it lay below us, 21 hours and 57 minutes in the past. 

Brandon eventually spoke. He said it was a good way for him to retire from speed climbing. I didn't believe him.

"What about our Sea of Dreams (A4+) reunion push next year?" I asked, innocently passing it off as a joke. I could tell by the flash of manic energy in his eyes, it would be a brief retirement.

The Sea was a glaring omission from the speed records list. It had never been pushed before and it was clear why. It was first done by Jim Bridwell, Dale Bard, and Dave Diegelman in 1978, and was billed as the hardest route on El Cap at the time. The wandering pitches, loose rock, sustained difficulty, and dangerous sections made climbing quickly clearly challenging.

A couple days after the Reticent, an email confirmed my suspicions. Brandon wanted to push the Sea in a week. I said yes immediately.

Lance was away from the Valley, so Brandon recruited another of the local speed climbing elite to join the team. Miles Fullman had also done the Sea before and was our secret weapon for taking the faster free climbing variation on El Niño rather than joining the NA Wall at the top. The week went quickly and before long we were walking along the base of El Cap to the start of the Sea. 

Brandon blasted up the first 200 foot pitch in under an hour, and didn't really let up for the rest of his block. He'd been pretty ill for a few days prior, even thinking he might have to bail beforehand. We couldn't tell by the way he was moving.

He floated up the pitches, completely onsight, til we found ourselves on the Continental Shelf, a long 45 degree slanting ledge 1000 feet off the ground. I stayed there, whilst Brandon and Miles climbed the two zigzagging pitches above. The first pitch climbed the Shelf itself to the left, then the second, the Hook or Book, traversed back above the ledge to the right.

Hook or Book is really not meant to be climbed quickly. It's essentially unprotected, so a simple error could result in a colossal pendulum back into the Continental Shelf below. It demands respect. 

Brandon slowed a little, aware of the serious nature of the climbing, but not by much. I watched from below, aware I was in the impact zone, as he drifted effortlessly across the pitch.

He kept charging up more technical climbing to the Expanding Anchor. Miles and I both said we'd had intrusive thoughts of Brandon pitching off Don't Skate Mate (A4+) onto the gear belay in expanding rock whilst we were jugging on it. Thankfully that didn't happen, and Brandon was soon at Big Sur. He'd led 13 pitches of sustained hard aid climbing in just over nine hours, setting us up perfectly. It was my turn to lead.

On the Reticent, Brandon had done all of the hard climbing, but here our blocks seemed similarly tricky. I had 10 pitches of runouts, dubious rock, and fear to contend with, and before long it would get dark.

My first pitch, the Peregrine Pillar, started with some runout free climbing traversing to the side. I did this, and was about to nail my first beak for some much needed protection, when I realised I didn't have a hammer. Miles was using mine to clean the previous pitch. I had to tag Brandon's, fearfully perched on a narrow ledge below the pillar. No gear separated me from the belay. 

I started to hit my stride and began reeling off pitches. To the Tooth went smoothly. The Blue Room prompted some squeaks as horizontal beaks shifted. The Ace in Space, Bull Dike, and Price is Light passed by in a short fixed blur. I slowed slightly as the mental fatigue of dealing with the runouts began to wear on me. As I reached the Space Station, the gloom set in.

Though I was through the loose diorite, some long stretches on hooks remained. I no longer had the mental resilience to focus on anything other than the next move. My team mates' encouragements were muted to me as I attempted to keep moving, far from any gear. I was now aware of how tired I was, and knew that a mistake could easily happen. I no longer felt in control. I finished pitch 22 and asked if I could stop early. I remembered that I had gotten lost on pitch 23 last year, but had forgotten where I went.

Miles said he was happy to take over early, but Brandon realised it would burn time. I continued on reluctantly, but slowed even more. The mistake came when I got on a clearly bad beak instead of trying to find something else. It ripped, and I daisy whipped onto the beak below. I had no time to worry though, and immediately got back up and hooked instead. Not long later I was towing the rope, laden with drag, up the slippery 5.7 to the anchor.

Miles took over the lead, and - at a pace incomparable to the aid climbing we'd just been doing - practically ran up to the Igloo. I thought it was just straight up easy jugging from there, but the bag got stuck on practically every pitch to the top. On the last pitch, Brandon and I pulled the bag up with our hands as we climbed to avoid having to go back down.

I mocked a sprint to the top anchor to stop the timer, knowing that the seconds were irrelevant and that it was unlikely anyone would try this again. The clock stopped at 21 hours and 33 minutes.

We were exhausted, and all in uncoordinated unison shed our harnesses, adorned our puffies, curled up in balls, and fell asleep. Dawn arrived an hour later, and the sun gave us sufficient energy to get back to the meadow. 

For the second time in just over a week, we'd done something I barely thought was possible beforehand. Now it felt like it wasn't a big deal in the first place. Brandon once again said he was retiring from speed climbing. I believe him even less than last time.

If you enjoyed this piece, and would like to learn more about the skills required to get started with big wall climbing, then make sure to check back in on Monday, when we'll be publishing the first instalment of Olly's three part series: How to Climb El Cap.