How to explore the staggering national park that stars in Free Solo
There is an especially unnerving moment in the newly Oscar-anointed documentary Free Solo where the extent of the task facing the climber Alex Honnold becomes apparent. But, contrary to what you might expect, it is not one of the many beautifully crafted sequences where the viewer gazes down from above as the film's (almost literally) fearless subject inches carefully up his granite opponent; a tiny speck of dark clothing against an incomparable wall of white, an ant criss-crossing the surface of the moon.
It is earlier, as Honnold wanders along the grassy floor of Yosemite National Park. He is approaching El Capitan - the monolith that has become the sole focus of his life - and the camera pulls back, revealing the scope of what is to be attempted. Back it goes, back, for what is only a couple of seconds, yet feels, somehow, interminable. Back some more, the lens searching, fumbling for the top of this slab of stone - until, finally, the blue of the firmament above the edge of the ridge is revealed, just when it seems that the sky might have vanished.
With this comes the complete picture of what the climber is proposing to do - and the foolhardiness/brilliance/madness/ambition (delete as appropriate) of the entire project. It is all you can do, watching, not to gasp out loud.
For all the clever cinematography and ratcheting of narrative tension that led to Free Solo winning the Academy Award for Best Documentary (Feature) on Sunday night, it is this moment - rather than one of the vertigo-inducing glimpses of Honnold in mid-ascent - that ranks as the film's most effective. And it succeeds because - unlike one of this daredevil's dances with a narrow ledge or tricky foothold - it offers a snapshot of El Capitan that plenty of viewers will have seen for themselves, strolling similarly across one of the meadows that provide a carpet to California's most fabled protected space.
If you have ever waited on that spot, near the foot of El Capitan, you do not need to be an expert on free-climbing (the discipline which, in its purest form, involves clambering up great peaks using nothing more than hands, feet, strength and ingenuity - not even a rope), nor even a climber of any sort, to have an understanding of what it would take to conquer such a bluff. The knowledge is screamingly obvious to anybody with eyes. Every one of El Capitan's 900 metres (3,000ft) of height from valley floor to crest of summit is visible as you stand beneath it. The logical instinct is to shake your head timorously at even the thought of hoisting yourself up it, followed by a surge of respect - half admiration, half bafflement - for any who would willingly take on the challenge.
Free Solo's own ascent, to the cultural pantheon, has made it a discussion topic this week. Although conversations have focused as much on Honnold himself as his remarkable conquest of a geographical kraken of the American West. Does his unblinking determination tip over from bravery into some sort of sociopathy (a question that the film acknowledges, and answers in detail)? Is his relationship with girlfriend Sanni strictly healthy? What leads a person to embrace a goal such as this?
But it is Yosemite itself that will be the biggest beneficiary of the exposure. It shines on screen via the lens-work and courage of directors Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin. It seems epic, wide-screen, iconic (and other such effusive terms) - all broad rockscapes, deep-set forests, dizzying drops and untrammelled wildness.
Of course, it needs no cinematic assistance to look this impressive. For Yosemite National Park has a mystique.
In part, this is due to its vastness. If it were a country, it would be the 166th largest on the planet, its 1,169 square miles granting it a place in the global list between the Cape Verde islands and Samoa. In part, it is due to its curious combination of accessibility and remoteness. It sits 150 miles due east of San Francisco, and can be reached in three hours along good highways - but some of the roads which spear into it are suffocated, every year, by winter snowfall (the Tioga Pass, which provides entry to the park from the east, is generally impassable between November and May).
It is also down to the grand diversity of its geography. It has a remarkable elevation range, rising from 2,127ft to 13,114ft (648m to 3,997m) - a sweep from "low" to high that encompasses rushing waterfalls (the ribbon-cascade of Bridalveil Fall), expanses of sub-alpine lushness (Tuolumne and Dana Meadows) and rock behemoths (El Capitan is by no means a lone example of the park's ruggedness, as the 10,916ft/3,327m spike of Cathedral Peak demonstrates). It has immense popularity too - some four million people visit the national park every year. But even though the majority of tourists do not move beyond six of those 1,169 square miles, it never feels crowded. How could it - when the surrounding scenery dwarfs every human footprint?
Free Solo will certainly inspire adventurous souls to pit themselves against some of Yosemite's fiercer grooves and gradients (if not necessarily with the assistance of nothing more than their own derring-do). But it will inspire many more simply to come and see a slice of the American landscape which could, if you subscribe to such notions, have been designed by a divine hand. It is a place to fall for. Not in the way that you fear Honnold might in every second of his odyssey. But in heart, mind and memory.
How to do it
America As You Like It (020 8742 8299; americaasyoulikeit.com) sells a 15-day "Northern California Highlights" road trip that spends two nights in Yosemite National Park, from ￡1466 a head with flights. Bon Voyage (0800 316 3012; bon-voyage.co.uk) offers a 13-day "California Wilderness Escape" which goes one better - with three nights in the park (as well as time in San Francisco). From ￡1,625 a head - with flights.
Further information via nps.gov/yose and visitcalifornia.com.