No man ever knew more of the High Sierra terrain than Norman Clyde. David R. Brower
Not since the time of John Muir had anyone established such a kinship with the Sierra Nevada.
Los Angeles Times
Wherever men gather around blazing campfires on cold nights in the high country and talk of the history of mountaineering, there are certain names that inevitably come into the conversation. . . among Americans, John Muir, Clarence King and Norman Clyde.
San Francisco Chronicle
Close Ups of the High Sierra is a collection of stories as told by one of California's great mountaineers, Norman Clyde. His rate of first ascents far surpassed those of John Muir, Clarence King and William Brewer, combined. Often called upon to find downed planes and lost climbers, he did so with a tremendous rate of success.
For more than half a century many of the new stories in this volume have been filed away in the forgotten solitude and darkness of library collections. Clyde's mountain photographs of his famed Sierra Club High Trips attended by such notable Sierrans as Ansel Adams, Cedric Wright, Francis Farquhar, Glen Dawson, and Jules Eichorn remind us of the Golden Age of High Sierra climbing and days long past.
Norman Clyde, a name as legendary as that of Fremont or Muir. Norman Clyde, a man to whom the entire High Sierra was as familiar as ones own back yard. Norman Clyde, whose own life is much less known than that of the Greek heroes whose sagas he carried in his pack.
And how did this come about? For Clyde was a quiet, sometimes taciturn man, who often failed to leave a record of his achievements, and never boasted about his fabulous ascents. Yet, since he made his first trip to the top of Mt. Whitney, almost a half century ago, climbers have been finding his records on remote summits. A strong team of skilled rock climbers will conquer a lonely spire, using the most modern of climbing gear and techniques and will summit with well-coordinated teamwork, only to find on a faded Kodak box, the record of a solo climb of more than six decades ago. Or, at the high point of a distant ridge will be found a small cairn, with no written record obviously the work of man and a climber will turn to his companion with, Well, it looks like ours would have been a first ascent, if not for Norman Clyde. Later, upon discussing the route with him, Clyde would ponder a bit, ask a couple of questions about some difficult pitch encountered on the ascent, then admit he had been there scores of years ago. Clyde was never one to bring up these mountaineering achievements. He would often sidestep them, or respond with his dry sense of humor, mentioning that he was in fact '350 years old', but he was never known to make a false statement when talking seriously. It was easy to tell the difference between his banter and his true accounts of his life and work. Research completely verifies the data and dates that he supplied. . .
Walt Wheelock
