It’s the summer of 1994 and Steve Muse, a 36-year-old big wall climber from Southern California, is enjoying the view on the top of El Capitan. Standing above the notoriously steep but straightforward 16 pitches of the Zodiac route, he is finally on flat ground. The view from the top is unimaginably spectacular.

Quadriplegic in an Instant
Fast forward a decade to April 2004. The view isn’t as clear and bright for Muse. Lying flat on his back in a trauma center, Muse is now a quadriplegic. After falling asleep at the wheel during a commute between San Diego and Thousand Oaks, California, Muse collided with a freeway bridge abutment at 65 mph. and broke his neck. In his mind, the vertical world he once loved, and the view from the top, is gone forever.

“I was depressed and thought that part of my life was over,” Muse explains.

“Climbing and mountain biking was such a part of my life prior to my accident that it defined who I was," he wrote in a journal. "The places I visited and the friends I shared those experiences with will always be in my memory. I took for granted my physical ability. Never again will I be able to visit the wild places where I once played. Being paralyzed is a permanent thing. You can’t run from it, you can’t hide from it, it simply is…”

On the Road to Recovery
Muse says thoughts of depression turned to suicide and, were it not for the love of family and friends, as well as the guidance of a dedicated network of caregivers, he admits he might not be here today.
Then things began to change.

“I was recovering at Sharp Rehab and my buddy, Tommy Thompson, told me that whenever I was ready to share a rope again, he would be waiting and ready to go," Muse recalled. "I was getting stronger and those words made me begin to think about what might be possible in my life. My mind went back to El Cap."

In the summer of 2007, Muse was active and feeling confident again.

“I drove up to Squaw Valley with Tommy to visit with (adaptive big wall climbing pioneer) Mark Wellman, who was working a tilt-up climbing wall for a gimp sports expo called No Barriers,” Muse explains. “I got spanked hard trying to climb that damn 20’ wall only making it half way before my arms flamed out. Lowering off with my tail between my legs, I realized how far I had to go before capturing such a high goal. Sometimes a man's reach is further than his grasp and I was humbled again.”

Pondering Life Before and After the Accident
Humbled again and in his late 40s, Muse recalls he was torn between two lives - the one he led before his accident and the one after it. The life before the accident was a memory and the life after the accident was suddenly becoming extraordinary and quite unbelievable. He admitted the life he once thought was “limited” now included the goal of climbing El Cap again. Despite his Squaw Valley setback, he planned to follow the Zodiac route up to the top once again.

Setting a Goal
“On my 50th birthday, Jan. 17, 2008, I decided to do an ‘El Cap Day’ to see how long it would take me to do 30 laps up and down the 20’ rope," he wrote in his journal. “Four hours later I completed the 600’ without stopping, except to shake out my arms and hands. I continued to weight train four days a week doing 216 lat pulldowns in the morning before work, increasing the weight as the reps got easier. Also, kayaking almost every Tuesday night (for about 5-7 miles) and sometimes on Thursdays with Jen’s group at Aqua Adventures. I would ride my hand-cycle on weekends for 20-30 miles.”

Back on the Rock
After a year of training, Muse returned to Yosemite.

“It was wonderful being in the Valley again, sleeping on the ground for two weeks, smelling the trees and being with your friends. I left my wheelchair behind for eight days and spent six days on the wall. Things up there just looked so much more beautiful. The falcons soared and the swifts just buzzed around. The whole thing was surreal and I just tried to take it all in,” he says.

Muse will tell you it’s not so much the challenge but the experience that matters now. He has been a climber for more than 20 years and managed to do 16 big walls before his injury. El Cap in 2008 was number 17.

“It was the most memorable and the best climb I have ever done,” he concludes. “Not because it was exceptionally difficult, but because it brought me back to a place I never thought I could go and to be with the people I love.”

When you are Steve Muse, that place is the top. And the view from the top – no matter where that might be - is best enjoyed when it is shared with others.

Photos courtesy of Steve Muse

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