![Tobin-tops-out-after-completing-the-Dru-Couloir-Direct-1977-Photo-by-Rick-Accomazzo](https://boulderweekly.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/Tobin-tops-out-after-completing-the-Dru-Couloir-Direct-1977-Photo-by-Rick-Accomazzo.jpg)
In the 1970s, a group of long-haired hippie kids escaped the sprawl and smog of Los Angeles to climb rocks in the wilderness. They called themselves the Stonemasters.
Boulder local Rick Accomazzo recounts his experiences with the scrappy collective — alongside unpublished writings and documentation of his climbing partner, who died on a dangerous free solo climb at 25 — in his new book, Tobin, the Stonemasters and Me: Remembering Tobin Sorenson, the Best Climber in the World.
“Tobin’s full climbing career has never been told, only bits and pieces,” Accomazzo says. “A lot of Tobin’s story was really my story of climbing. We were regular climbing partners. I had some of my best climbs with him.”
The book begins with the early days of climbing in Joshua Tree, where the high school students made their first ascents while building a culture around being “non-conventional misfits.” This combination made for a lot of good stories, but as Accomazzo writes: “In the climbing world, there is a very thin line between a good story and the end of earthly existence.”
The chapters are organized geographically and include anecdotes of each location and its gravity-defying climbs. One section details Tobin’s Colorado adventures, including ascents in Eldorado Canyon and Estes Park. The chapters, which can be read as independent stories, feature large, high-resolution photos for reference.
This adrenaline-seeking bent fueled a certain spirit of debauchery among the young climbers, but Tobin was different from other Stonemasters. The straight-laced preacher’s son befriended most people with an easy joviality, but surprised rock climbers for generations to come with his skill and fearlessness.
One of those climbers was Alex Honnold, the first person to free solo a route up Yosemite’s El Capitan in 2017, who regards the late adventurer as one of his idols. Accomazzo, who recently stepped back from law practice, supports in his book the bold claim that Tobin was the best climber in the world. Prepared to take flak from climbing enthusiasts and the foreign press, he includes a spreadsheet of the extensive and daring climbs made during his short life.
“I picked the provocative title that he was the ‘best climber in the world,’ but I’m a lawyer: I have assembled the evidence,” Accomazzo says. “If somebody could come up with a better list of the first ascents that Tobin did over his climbing career, I will reconsider it. A lot of people were really good at alpinism. A lot of people were really good at rock climbing. Nobody could go from one to the other consistently; and Tobin did that.”
God’s top rope
Tobin’s brother Tim Sorenson remembers his older sibling’s fake Beatles cover band, complete with cardboard guitars, shaggy wigs and lip syncing. Tim always wanted to join, but they were all set with four members. He would spend the rest of his life looking up to his big brother, waiting for his chance to join the proverbial band.
That moment came when Tobin introduced Tim to climbing. He remembers training before modern climbing gear and gyms. They practiced using bolts fastened to the side of their chimney and pitons on the sides of trees. They repelled off cliffs with electrical cords. Their greatest teachers were long falls from cliffs and occasional impacts with the ground.
Tobin wasn’t afraid of those long falls. That’s part of what fascinated Accomazzo in telling the story of his fearless friend and the jaw-dropping heights he achieved. “The book explores the mystery of why he had such an appetite for risk,” the author says.
Some speculated that Tobin felt he had a “top rope from God” to protect him on difficult climbs, according to Accomazzo. The book includes many stories about Tobin’s reputation for religious piety, often being the only Christian in the group.
“The popular thinking of some was that Tobin was this over-religious guy, who believed he would never die in the mountains because of his deep religious faith,” Accomazzo says.
Tobin attended Biola College, a Bible institute in Los Angeles. Many of his international climbs were funded in part by missionary efforts, including smuggling bibles into Bulgaria, which positioned him for his ascents in the Alps.
“He was not like the angry evangelicals of today,” Accomazzo says. “He was a very compassionate religious guy, who wanted to do good in the world and cared for everybody. He made friends with everybody.”
Higher calling
Although most knew Tobin as an outgoing guy who easily garnered help and places to stay from strangers aiding in his climbing pursuits, Tim knew his brother’s quiet side.
“Tobin was very introspective,” Tim says. “He really examined his faith and his motivations. There’s a point in his climbing, about a few years before his death, that he looked at himself and had some self-examination. He felt a higher calling besides just climbing.”
Much of the book covers the last three years of Tobin’s life, and the height of his climbing career. From climbs in Australia to Peru, his landmark season started in 1977 after scaling the Alps with Accomazzo in 1976. During this time, Tobin completed four new routes on the Great North Faces of the fabled European mountain range.
“Nobody else has done four new routes in one season on the Great North Faces, by their hardest routes,” Accomazzo says. “It made somewhat of a splash.”
Tobin was engaged to marry before moving to Edmonton, Canada, to teach summer school with a local missionary group in 1980. He wrote to his fiancé, who was planning to join him at the end of summer, before his last climb. The book includes unpublished excerpts from his letters to Elizabeth. Tobin admitted he wasn’t sure if he’d survive his planned ascent of Mount Alberta’s North Face. He died from a fall during the attempt.
As a fellow climber, Tim knew the risks his brother took. He continued to climb after the accident, partly as a way to feel closer to his departed sibling.
“I just had that feeling like I connected with him when I climbed,” Tim says. “There are a lot of people that feel close to Tobin, even though they really didn’t know him that well, or even if they had never met him, because of the spirit he exuded when he was climbing. He had a reputation for that lightheartedness and joy.”
ON THE PAGE: Tobin, The Stonemasters and Me: Remembering the Best Climber in the World reading with Rick Accomazzo. 6:30-8:30 p.m. Thursday, Aug. 22, Neptune Mountaineering, 633 South Broadway, Boulder. Sold out: waitlist