Tobin Sorenson and the Stonemasters
A New Book by Author Rick Accomazzo
When Tobin Sorenson died in a fall on Oct. 5, 1980, during an In the book’s foreword, fellow Stonemaster John Long writes, attempt to solo the north face of Mount Alberta, the world lost its fin- “Now, 50 years after our teen-aged days out at Joshua Tree National est all-around climber and alpinist of that generation. As the climbing Monument, his terrifying, hell-for-leather M.O. combined with his world mourned Sorenson’s death, Rick Accomazzo mourned the loss Saint Peter deportment, makes Tobin Sorenson the most remarkable of a dear friend. person I have ever met. It blew my mind and humbled me way back “If he was leading some new route and there was a choice to either go when, and it still shivers my timbers just thinking about it. It haunts up into dangerous territory, or back down, Tobin would always just go. me, too.”
There was no doubt about it,” Accomazzo tells me from a rainy day at “Sorenson lived not far from me, about 10 miles away in the suburbs his home in Boulder, Colo. of L.A., but came from a very different background,” said Accomazzo. In a league of his own—and 45 years ago when gear was more primi- “Tobin was not like everybody else in our group; he grew up as the son tive—sorenson could flash 5.12 trad in Yosemite, excel on big-wall of a preacher who led a congregation of about 200 people. Tobin came alpine routes, and send hard ice. Some could outclimb him in a single from that environment, and religion was a big part of his life.” discipline, but none equaled him overall. By the time of his death, Sorenson hadn’t documented much of his
own adventures. “Because he died at 25, wasn’t a great self-promoter and didn’t write much about his climbs, I always thought his achievements were underappreciated. And ever since he died, I have wanted to tell Tobin’s story. It took a long time, but I finally accomplished that.” Accomazzo took 10 years to complete his book, part biography and part memoir. Tobin, the Stonemasters, and Me is 357 pages and contains dozens of never-before-seen images of Tobin and others from the 1970s. Three abbreviated chapters previously appeared as articles in Alpinist, but the book has extended versions.
“The book includes my observations and anecdotes about some of the best climbers of the 1970s, folks like John Long, John Bachar, Lynn Hill, Jim Bridwell, and Mike Graham,” said Accomazzo.
The author started climbing in southern California at 17 in 1972. He explains that if you wanted to become a Stonemaster, a term the teens coined themselves, you’d have to be able to lead the first climb given the 5.11 rating in the guidebook: the three-pitch Valhalla at Suicide Rock in southern California. The initial group included Rob Muir, John Long, Mike Graham, Gib Lewis, John Bachar and
“And ever since he died, I have wanted to tell Tobin’s story. It took a long time, but I finally accomplished that.”
Tobin Sorenson, among others.
Throughout the book, Accomazzo shares personal stories about Tobin, including their first meeting at Suicide Rock and their climbing adventures that ranged from Joshua Tree to Suicide and Tahquitz, to Yosemite and high peaks in several countries. The narrative captures the close-knit nature of the climbing community of the 1970s, emphasizing the social life at campgrounds and the shared passion for climbing that created lasting friendships and indelible memories. He also touches on their varied backgrounds and how climbing united them despite their differences.
Accomazzo’s excerpt from Tobin, the Stonemasters, and Me (1970–1980): Remembering Tobin Sorenson, the Best Climber in the World is below:
“The first time I saw him, he was up in a tree at Suicide Rock, and John Long and I walked by the base, and we thought, who is this goofy guy?” Accomazzo said about the first time they met. “He looked younger than me, but we were born the same year. Later that day, he did Valhalla, and we all started climbing together at Tahquitz, Suicide, and Joshua Tree. We always camped together in Hidden Valley campground [in Joshua Tree] and had fun times there at night, filling the non-climbing hours with various diversions, such as midnight scrambles to caves and alcoves known as Space Stations. Teaching ourselves to climb and hanging out together at campgrounds brought us together as a group and Tobin became one of my best friends and climbing buddies.”
I asked Accomazzo what challenges he faced when gathering information for his new book, and he told me, “I had to track down his climbing partners, now scattered around the world. For example, Tobin teamed up with the Scottish ice climber Gordon Smith in the Alps and together they did perhaps Tobin’s greatest first ascent; it is on the north face of the Grandes Jorasses near Chamonix and is called Scala di Seta. I didn’t realize until much later all that he had accomplished in that 1977 season in the Alps. As I interviewed these climbing partners, I assembled his record in the Alps where he climbed four out of the fabled, six great north faces, including two new routes, (Dru and Grand Jorasses) a first alpine-style ascent (Eiger) and a winter free solo (Matterhorn). That’s when Tobin’s career really took off. He then travelled to Peru and free soloed a 21,000-foot peak in 1978. In 1979, he went to Australia and raised the existing rock standards by two grades. It dawned on me: who else could do this sort of stuff?
Who could climb a high altitude peak—free solo, a partial new route on a 21,000 ft peak in the Andes—come back to the states to do the hardest rock routes, and then pull off technical alpine, first winter ascents in the Canadian Rockies?”
About the structure of the book, Accomazzo said, “The book is organized geographically with chapters on Joshua Tree, Tahquitz, Yosemite, the Canadian Rockies, the Alps, Peru, Australia, New Zealand, etc.”
Writing the personal parts wasn’t easy, he said, “Writing about his final year was tough, as it describes how he fell in love and was engaged to be married, before his fateful decision to solo one harder route, Mount Alberta’s north face. Describing his death, based on the rescue team’s account, was particularly difficult, as was trying to convey to the reader the terrible impact on his fiancée, family, and friends. I hope that the reader will be able to fully appreciate the audacity and loneliness of attempting a solo climb on the north face of Mount Alberta, one of the world’s most remote peaks, where there was no possibility of help if something went wrong.”
Opinions vary when it comes to Sorenson’s most most significant contribution to the climbing world, but Accomazzo said, “In those last several years between 1977 and 1980, when he died, few could climb rock and alpine at a higher standard, and no one else could climb as well in both styles simultaneously, which was remarkable. Also, the book explains how his 1977 season in the Alps constituted a significant advance in the progression of fast and light technical alpinism. When I came to understand all that he had accomplished back then, I changed the title to assert that Tobin was the best climber in the world.” Tobin, the Stonemasters, and Me (1970–1980); Remembering Tobin Sorenson, the Best Climber in the World hit the shelves this month. Published by Stonemaster Books, it’s 375 pages, in a larger format, packed with dozens of colour, and black-and-white photos. It costs US$46. The book can be ordered at