They weren’t the first men to climb mountains. They were just the first to make it look this damn cool. They invented their own bare-bone, white-knuckled style of climbing, yes—taking down unprecedented multi-day ascents, and honing the art of free-soloing, climbing alone without any ropes. They also patented a lifestyle built around the sport and the spirit of scaling steep cliffs, sheer rock faces, and impossibly pitched verticals. All under the influence of the California sun, the psychedelic sounds of the 1970s (especially Jimi Hendrix), and copious amounts of cheap, green reefer. They were known as the Stonemasters, and they would last roughly a decade, from 1970 to 1980, blasting rock ‘n’ roll music, partying around campfires (“there was always a crazy amount of girls around”), and making insane first ascents through Yosemite National Park (and later the world). By decade’s end, the world would change and catch-up, their influence would endure through a many billion-dollar adventure sports industry, but that magic time in the forest couldn’t last forever. But “it was Woodstock forever” for awhile and everyone involved in the scene knew it. Here the core surviving members take us back to that time, up on sugar mountain for one last long look. —Luke Zaleski

Stonemasters co-founder Richard Harrison, who died in 2014, seen here in 1977. Photograph by Gib Lewis

Style Was Everything

John Long (co-author of ‘The Stonemasters’; arrived at Yosemite in 1969 at age 16 from Upland, California): The Stonemasters were a cultural event that happened in the mid 1970s that catalyzed what would go on to be the adventure sport and action sport craze. It had a lot of things to do with—it was a style kinda thing.

Lynn Hill (first person, man or woman, to make a free ascent of The Nose, Yosemite’s most iconic big wall): Well, style is everything. And just because you get to the top doesn’t mean that you should celebrate your success. It’s how you get there that’s really very important.

Dean Fidelman (co-author of ‘The Stonemasters’; climber, photographer and creator of the nude climbing calendar Stone Nudes): All of us were aware of what was going on in surfing and we all thought that those guys were bitchin', you know. They had style. They had the style, and that's what we started bringing to climbing—a certain style. And it first started with the clothes—the white painter pants and the chalk bag and then the headband. It also went to the way you climbed. You climbed super smooth, but when there was a big hold, you'd hang on it. You know, you'd show how strong you were and how fluid you were. And then you wouldn't use a whole lot of protection to show how big your balls were.

Long: The Stonemasters were a pretty gracious group. That’s not to say that we weren’t arrogant—because we were—but it wasn’t arrogant in reference to other people. It was just arrogant because you were part of something and it was cool.

Mike Graham (founder of the climbing lifestyle brand Gramicci; arrived in Yosemite in 1974, the year he turned 18): It was a cockiness, a confidence that you have because you survived this pitch when no one else had been able to do it, and if you fall, you maybe could have broken yourself for the rest of your life, or died, and you survive it. It makes you feel like, “Maybe I’m untouchable.” You’re always thinking, “Well, shit, I’m pretty much what’s happening and nothing’s gonna stop me.”

FidelmanI: We wanted it to be as natural as possible. We're trying to do it as beautifully and as well as we can, because there's a certain amount of respect for the beauty of the rock and the beauty of our environment, and that's how we tried to blend in and be a part of it. Cause everything here is at the height of its mastery, and we wanted to be that way, too. As beautiful and graceful as a tree, as strong as a rock, you know.

Long: [Other places] have some fantastic formations but they’re nothing like Yosemite. It had a magical kind of feel and enchantment. There’s a reason why it’s called a crown jewel of the park system. I came out of sports but you know—no arena is remotely as grand as El Cap [El Capitan, the vertical rock formation on the north side of Yosemite Valley]. It’s freakin’ 3,000 feet high. It makes Yankee Stadium look like a dog house.

Rick Accomazzo (photographer; arrived at Yosemite in 1973 at age 18): You cannot believe how big El Capitan is. It’s just staggering. It’s life changing. Imagine the World Trade Center—one of the highest manmade things in the Western hemisphere—it’s not quite, but two of those. Stack them up. And that’s El Cap.

Dean Fidelman: I was climbing in Joshua Tree before that and I had never—the scale of everything was just so monumental and just the beauty of the whole place. I fell in love with it immediately is really what happened. I knew I was home.

Long: Climbing wasn’t a mainstream thing at all then. So [climbers] had an outlaw curious feel to them that I found interesting. And they were all fit—an energetic subset of athletics and culture that I also found interesting. Outlaws, really. The regular rules didn’t really apply to them ‘cause there was nobody to enforce anything. They simply weren’t hypnotized by regular values. They were like jazz musicians or something.