the peak was reached by: Tomaž Humar
	expedition members: Tomaž Humar (vodja), Joško Bojić, Stipe Božić, Damjan Kočar, Matej Mejovšek
	he is the first European to climb soloone of the most difficult technical routes in the world in fifteen days, Reticent Wall VI., 5.9, A5
	850 m
	This was Humar's first encounter with one of the American granite 'big walls'.
	Although he had no previous experience with this type of stone, he started off with the biggest challenge Yosemite Valley had to offer - the Reticent Wall of El Capitan.
	He chose his equipment or manufactured it himself according to experience from the Slovene Alps. He started on the vertical wall with three heavy bags of equipment, which he carried with him throughout the ascent.
	It took him fifteen days of solo climbing to become the first non-American who conquered the Reticent Wall, one of the most difficult technical routes in the world.
	He stood on the peak of El Capitan on October 26, 1998.
	A film was made about his ascent of the Reticent Wall, which received the Genziana d'Argento award for the best mountaineering film at the international mountain film festival in Trento.

"You'll fly in the first pitch, man!Take a plane and go home!"
These were the first words of 'encouragement' I heard from the local climbers when I sought some information, anything really, about the infamous route called the Reticent Wall. Apparently they thought I wasn't all there; my first time in the valley and I want to solo the toughest route.

On the ledge before the 'lucky 13' pitch, after two weeks on the wall, I experience a snow-storm, not an everyday occurrence in this part of California. I take the day off, to rest and thoroughly sort out the gear. The next morning is cool and sunny, and at about eight I start on the pitch with the highest grade on El Cap - A5. The word on this pitch is: "If you fall, you'll die - for sure!" That should be clear also to non-experts. I know I can climb it, but I'm still scared. The slightest mistake can be fatal.

I tackle the loose flakes, which remind me of Rzenik back home, with the copper-heads, which I find better than the traditional sawed-off angle-pitons. Next follows wedging the smallest copper-heads into some sort of a scaly black gap, and then hooking up to the next unstable flake. I'm not sure who's holding whom, me the flake or vice versa, but forty meters below there's a ledge where I'd first break, and another forty meters lower a jagged ramp where I'd shatter. I close my eyes to drive the black scenarios out of my mind, when I suddenly hear: "Pffffft!" I can almost smell the surge of adrenaline, and with my eyes still closed I start cursing: "What the hell! You let me come this far, you bastard, just to kill me now! "

No fair, no fair, keeps flashing through my mind, before I look up and see, as in a dream, Stipe. Holding an open can in his hand he says coolly: "Time for a beer, man!"

He's swinging from two ropes over a thousand-meter drop to get a few good shots.
"You scared the hell out of me, Stipe!"<
He says off-handedly, as though he's just sauntered in from the beach: "Time for a photo - say cheese!"
"Stipe, get out of my face. If I take a fall nowthere won't be any more pictures!"
"Oh, come on, Joža, you'll like it later, you'll see!"

Abstract from the book by Tomaž Humar, No Impossible Ways, 2001, Mobitel d.d., Ljubljana