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2012-09-25

Capitol Peak - Northwest Buttress

09/22-23/2012

Capitol Peak
Grace and I haven't had much success alpine climbing in Colorado: one mini-epic on Longs Peak, and lots of retreats due to wind, weather, and acclimatization problems. Hopefully that streak has now been broken.

Capitol Peak is known as one of the most difficult of the Colorado "14ers", but that's because most of them are just giant piles of sand - well, talus. It caught my eye initially, because it really stands out on a topo map. The easiest route (the NE ridge) is 3rd class, with a few short sections of 4th; this was our descent route.

The northwest buttress is a very aesthetic line that requires a few pitches of 5.8/9 climbing and lots of low-mid 5th class. The crux comes right at the beginning, so you don't have that hanging over you the whole time, and is super fun. Unfortunately, much of the rest of the route turned out to be unpleasantly loose.

We approached on Saturday, through a glorious aspen forest. Our trip was well timed; fall color is in full swing in the high country. This led to a predictably slow pace, as I stopped to take pictures every other minute. It took 4 hours to hike the 7 miles up to Capitol Lake.

We got up at 5 on Sunday, and made the deceptively short hike up to the unnamed pass from which the route begins. The first pitch and a half is really amazing and varied. Good cracks, flakes, overhangs, and a crazy run-out foot traverse along a horizontal 5-6" crack. The 5.9 crux comes in the form of a thin crack that's too small for hands, and too big for fingers. The rock was so smooth, cold, and slippery it felt like climbing a crack in ice. The 40 F temperature meant I had to stop and warm my hands after every few moves. I didn't hesitate to pull on gear.

top of the 2nd pitch
Pitch 2 is a moderately loose 5.8 slot, which was exciting to get established in, but quickly eased to mid 5th. We did the rest of the route in 3 simul-blocks, with difficulty varying from 2nd class to 5.7. There is some fun climbing, and nice positions higher up on the buttress, but the loose rock that began after the first pitch was pervasive, and particularly noticeable on the harder 5.7 sections. I was constantly worried I would kick something loose which might chop the rope or hit Grace.

We made it to the top in 6.5 hours of climbing, and were able to enjoy a brief patch of sunshine on the summit before it began snowing. Short squalls alternated with sun as we descended the NE ridge. We were back at the lake in 3 hours from the summit, and then bombed down the trail to the car in 2.5 h. Motivation: reach civilization in time to get a burger. Instead we found a steakhouse in Glenwood Springs which served us lamb chops and elk steak. mmmm.

Overall, I can't really recommend the route. It's cool to do a long committing 5th class route on a big beautiful peak, and the line is very aesthetic. However, all the loose rock really detracted from the experience: I can't enjoy climbing when I'm constantly worried I might kill my partner (wife!) with a misjudged move. Grace may have had a better experience; the worst any rocks she knocked off might have done would have been to smush one of the many pika.

Still, it was a great weekend. Excellent scenery, company, and a nice sense of satisfaction in having safely completed the route.

2012-09-05

Dorado Needle - SW Buttress

8/30-8/31 2012

Grace and Forbidden Peak
Grace and I were flying back to Seattle around Labor day for Brian and Michelle's wedding. As the wedding took place in Mazama, we couldn't resist tacking a climbing trip on at the beginning. It would have been too much to drive over highway-20 and not climb something.

The ambitious plan was to climb Eldorado on Thursday, and then on Friday link the SW face of Early Morning Spire, and the SW buttress of Dorado Needle. In the end, we contented ourselves with only the latter, and had a fantastic trip.

We flew in on Wednesday night, and crashed on Jim and Melissa's floor (comfy air mattress), borrowed a bunch of gear (thanks!), and set out at first light. We got our permits and were headed up the Eldorado Creek route by 10:00. By 15:45 we were refilling water at a convenient pool of snow-melt at the base of the east ridge of Eldorado. We dropped our packs and scrambled to the summit through billowing clouds. Very scenic.

Too wrecked to continue to the Dorado Needle col, we made camp at a perfect site a few hundred feet up the ridge. We'd not seen another person all day, not even a boot track on the summit ridge. Having not made it as far as we wanted, we decided to stick with the route on Dorado Needle, since the approach to Early Morning Spire is a few hours further.

The next morning we started from camp around 08:00. The Inspiration and McAllister glaciers were broken up enough to be interesting, but not difficult. A little climbing on 45-degree neve was required to get around one crevasse at the McAlister-Inspiration col, and there was one narrow but solid snow-bridge beyond.

the first 5th class pitch
By 11:00, we were established in the moat at the toe of the SW Buttress of Dorado Needle. I led up easy slabs to the base of the first real pitch, and then Grace made a long spectacular lead up a corner and flake system to the crest of the lower buttress. Form there, the route went pretty smoothly in a total of 9 pitches. The structure of the buttress is fairly complex, so there were a few junctures where I did quite a bit of exploring before making a decision on  the best route. Since there isn't much beta out there on this route, I've written a full description (below). Note how little resemblance it bears to the one printed in Nelson (Vol. 2). The most memorable pitches were Grace's dihedral, the wildly exposed hand traverse, layback, and fantastic face climbing on pitch 7, and the final long dihedral on pitch 9. Any one of these three would be popular fare at cragging area. The rest of the route was more 'alpine' and less memorable, but there was nothing truly terrible or frighteningly rotten. The position of the route is spectacular and exciting, and the summit is sharp and scenic.  Highly recommended.

crevasses on the descent
We descended the NW ridge in two pitches of down-climbing. One rappel got us into the moat, which we were able to climb out of quite easily via a narrow ice ledge. Navigating the glacier back down to the Dorado Needle col where we were to camp was really fun. Several tenuous-looking, but solid, snow bridges and some down-climbing on steep slopes above gaping cracks got us through, and protected well with a few pickets driven into the hard September neve. From moat to moat, the route took us 7-hours to complete.

After a good nights sleep, we headed home across the glaciers. We paused for sunrise back at the East Ridge of Eldoroado, and then made the long, scenic descent back to the car. The BBQ caboose and Cascadian Farms provided refreshment, and then we were off to the wedding festivities.

 Route description:
  1. Climb onto the right side of the buttress at about the lowest point. Move right up easy white blocky slabs, then move back left to the base of a left-leaning dihedral (60-70 m, 3rd and 4th class).
  2. Climb the dihedral to it's end ~20 m, passing several small roofs/overlaps on the left. Step left around a bulge, and ascend a fun flake system up and left to easier ground and the buttress crest (60 m, 5.7).
  3. Simulclimb easy ground up the buttress crest, bypassing blank lichen covered slabs on the left. Bealy in a large amphitheater of white blocky slabs a bit above where the lower buttress joins the upper ( ~150 m, 4th).
  4. Climb the slabs into a shallow corner, and ascend up and left to the upper ridge crest(50 m, low 5th).*
  5. Continue up on the right side of the crest, through a dirty slot and up a short clean open book. Make a delicate step left onto a short slab with a nice crack, and belay on the crest (50 m, 5.6).
  6. Climb on the crest. Pass a small steep gendarme on the left, and descend to a notch at the base of a steep, improbable looking step in the ridge. Belay in the notch at the base of a right angling hand/finger crack (20 m, low 5th).
  7. Hand traverse out and right along the crack onto a steep but well featured slab with wild exposure. Pull onto a small ledge, and layback a short wide crack up to a large ledge. Traverse left along the ledge** to the base of a left facing flake/crack system, and climb up onto the blunt arete. Follow the arete up on clean slabby rock with many small solid flakes for holds and pro. Belay at the summit of a small gendarme, right on the sharp crest. (60 m, 5.7).
  8. Proceed along a short knife edge, and descend into a notch. Climb over a blunt gendarme and belay on easy ground on the far side near another notch below a steep, impossible looking wall (40 m, low 5th).
  9. Move the belay left on rubble strewn ledges to below a long clean dihedral.*** Climb up to the dihedral and stem up to a rotten ledge. Move right along the ledge, and ascend the buttress crest to the summit (60 m, 5.8).
* We actually climbed a different line to the R, which was more like 5.7-8 and kind of loose. the line described looked like it would be better.
** Careful rope management is required to avoid massive drag here. A right facing flake directly above the layback crack looked possible, but harder, and would avoid putting a giant Z in the rope.
*** The climbing on this pitch is excellent and clean until the very top, where there is considerable loose rock. Consider belay placement carefully to protect the belayer from rockfall.


2012-07-14

Pickets Traverse

6/22-7/8 2012
Prelude:
Grace, Ethan, and I set off from Boulder toward the Cascades on Friday night (6/22). The plan is to attempt a complete traverse of the Picket Range. We'll move north to south, climbing everything that weather, snow conditions, and our abilities allow. Problem is, it doesn't look like the weather will allow anything at all. But we won't carry more than ten days of food, and this is a two-week vacation; we have time to be a little bit flexible. So we delay, and head to the sunny Teton range for a warmup.

We roll into Lander around 01:00 Saturday morning, and like last year, fail to find the tent sites in the city park. Instead we bivy on soft grass beneath huge spreading cottonwood trees. I wake to a loud squawk and the sound of squirting water. We've been woken by the sprinkler system. Again. Grace got it full in the face.

We get to the Jenny Lake ranger station at about 09:00, and get our permits. The Ranger is skeptical, quelling. Our plan is to climb the Teewinot that day, and camp in the high plateau between it and Mt. Owen. Then climb Owen on the second day and descend. I try to explain to him that we were on our way to the Pickets, and that this little side trip is well within our abilities, but he isn't convinced. I don't think he knows what the Picket Range is.

The Teewinot:
The Grand and Mt. Owen from high on Teewinot
It's early afternoon by the time we arrive at the top of the apex, a triangular patch of trees rising high on the east face of the Teewinot. The regular east face route is still holding a fair amount of snow, but it looks thin and treacherous, and the whole morning of direct sun has turned it to slop. Instead, we head up the SE couloir on the far left margin of the face, which holds more continuous snow. The couloir is 30-40 degrees in angle, sloppy on top, and firm a few inches down. We take to rock scrambling a couple of times in order to avoid hypothetical rockfall and soft-slide hazards presented by constrictions. Soon enough we gain the south ridge, and through a combination of exposed scrambling and simul-climbing (4th and low 5th class) we reach the gentle plateau southwest of the summit. We are all wrecked.

After a while considering we decide that Owen is not a reasonable objective given our condition and the gear we have. It would require lots of very exposed steep snow climbing, and we didn't bring pickets up with us. I am feeling quite sick from the altitude. Instead, we hatch a plan to climb to the summit of Teewinot for sunrise the next morning. The route finding in the dark turns out to be more complex than we had hoped, and the sun is high before we reach the top. Nevertheless, the views are breathtaking. Being so close to the north face of The Grand for sunrise is truly awe-inspiring.

We descend back to camp and pack up. Three (30 m) rappels off of point 11,840 reach the low saddle between Teewinot and the East Prong. We down-climb the easy couloir south to the sad remnants of the Teton glacier. Glacier Gulch is a mess of unstable moraines, but we get across, and reach Amphitheater lake via steep exposed snow and the remains of an old trail cut into a rock face. From there it's just a long, long walk back to our car, pizza at Dornan's, and our bunks at the AAC Climbers Ranch.

Decision time. The weather forecast for the Cascades is not great, but not too bad. It's going to rain today and tomorrow, then maybe get sunny for as much as two days before the rain moves in again. After that? there's just no way to know. We talk about other climbs in the Tetons, other ranges: the Winds, the Canadian Rockies, the Sierras... But it is the Picket Range that holds our collective imagination. In the end it's not an entirely rational decision. We point the Forester west, into the Pacific weather front.

Into the Pickets:
along Little Beaver trail
Ethan's parents treat us to an elegant dinner of rabbit and salmon and we catch up with friends. Then we're up early, packing, sorting, verifying. It's pounding rain all the way up highway 20. But we planned to start in the rain, right?
"You're brave!" The ranger says, but issues our permits with a smile. 
We weigh in. I win, at 54, and 191lbs for my pack and person, respectively. $125 later we are 15 miles up Ross Lake at Little Beaver trail-head. It isn't raining. Much. The hike is endless (17.5 mi), partly because the old-growth forest is so beautiful; Ethan and I stop over and over to try and capture it. Grace is patient, and stops wandering too far ahead when bear-sign becomes fresh and ubiquitous.We don't make it to Watcom pass, as planned. It's raining again after a long hiatus, and we want to stay dry for the night. We camp on a flat snow patch amidst an alder thicket beneath the final head-wall.

Watcom Pass to Luna Col:
 The sun rises. The clouds break. We hustle! The north ridge of Watcom looks too snowy for fast travel, and we opt for a low traverse around the east side of the peak. It goes easily, with little objective hazard, and the scenery just keeps getting better. Grins all over. Near easy pass we find the tracks of a large animal that can't be ursine, feline, or canine. This is real wilderness; we're in the territory of a wolverine.*

traversing the Challenger glacier
We cruise the Challenger glacier, and cut Challenger Arm as the sun is dipping. Packs down, hardware out, we head for the summit. Scenic climax. Easy snow climbing leads to the summit ridge and we simul to the summit. I'm in too much of a hurry to take them off, so I lead summit pitch in my crampons. It's exciting. By the time we are all on top it's getting very dark. The descent goes smoothly, and by 03:00 we are all snug, asleep in the tent.

traversing high in Luna cirque
The sun rises, much to our surprise. Lacy cirrus and lenticular clouds the day before had us convinced we wouldn't see it. But we do, so we move. Luna Cirque is overpowering. Fury is immense. The north buttress looks amazing, and snowy. We try to keep moving, but shutter stutter slows the pace. A long descending traverse to skier's right gets us into the basin with nary a cliff band, waterfall, or sprig of brush. The snow travel is fast and easy. We stop for lunch on the moraine and glory in the views. Aside form the lunch stop, the only time we step off of snow is for a 15 foot strip of gravel before heading up the south wall of the cirque toward Luna Lake. As we climb the thin scudding clouds begin to solidify and darken. We push hard and get our tent up and fortified at the col with everyone inside. Five minutes later the rain begins. And the wind.

*Confirmed from our photos by park wildlife biologists. They got excited about it. This is apparently the first confirmed evidence of wolverine habitation in this region of the park.

Tent Time, Luna, and a False Start:
It rains and it blows. We bear it. What's more important, the tent bears it. We read aloud. A Clockwork Orange offers a bit too much ultra-violence. Decidedly not our kind of horror show. John McPhee is interesting, but a little dry. We settle on Canterbury Tales, and English Fairy Tales (hilarious, and often gruesome). An afternoon weather break tempts us up Luna. No glorious views of the whole range; the peaks remain shrouded. But the intermittent sunshine and scudding tatters of cloud are exhilarating. We try to make a cell call from the summit to check in and get a weather report, but no go. We burrow back into the tent and it rains some more.

More rain the next morning, but in the afternoon things seem OK. It's still a white out, but by 13:00 it hasn't rained for a couple of hours. We decide to go for it. There's no way the north buttress of Fury will go in weather like this, so we might as well make some progress on the traverse. We drop a few hundred feet north on snow, and traverse to the next col, the only one accessible. We cross over, and it goes, but it turns out to be the wrong one (these glaciers have shrunk since Beckey's day). No big deal, traversing above Macmillan cirque is pretty easy. We turn a big spur, and a wall of rain hammers into us. It's stinging and horizontal, and we're all soaked to the skin inside of five minutes. A handy flat spot beckons. We get the tent up, and some hot soup down. It's surprising how quickly we transition form abject misery to comfort.

Luna Col to Fury, Outrigger, and Picket Pass:
The next day we are more cautious. It takes a real break in the weather to tempt us to take the tent down, but around noon, we go for it. More wolverine tracks on the SE glacier of Fury. We plod upward, and drop our packs at Fury-Outrigger* col.  Some traversing and a few rope lengths of 50-degree snow leads to the shoulder just below the summit pyramid. We wander, lost in the whiteout. Eventually we start up the final ~45 degree slope. I trigger some shallow (2") soft slides, bury a picket to keep us on the mountain, and continue. The summit is a gentle snow crest, and we are treated to glorious, if intermittent, views.
Mount Fury in the mist

Back at the packs we decide to go for Picket pass, rather than camp where we are. The climb up Outrigger is a bit nerve-wracking. Solid 4th class, with some treacherous loose rock. But now the clouds are braking up, the sun is setting, and everything is too crazy-epically-beautiful for words. We hit the top of Outrigger, and make a pleasantly easy descent toward Picket Pass. After one short rappel we are stopped by a short knife-edge section of the ridge. Is this the pass? I didn't think there was any 5th-class between Outrigger and it so... we chop out a tent-site with our axes, and quarry snow blocks to fill out the edges. More wolverine tracks at our camp, sharp and clear.

*The SE peak of Mt. Fury.

Picket Pass to Chopping Block col:
North Face of Mt. Terror
We wake up, and the sky is partly cloudy. No chance we'll start up the north buttress of Mt. Terror with this kind of weather, so we push on for the Mustard Glacier, Himmelhorn-Ottohorn col, and Crescent Creek basin. The knife edge is fun, but short lived. Soon we are walking easily, descending broad slopes down to the real Picket Pass. The mist comes and goes, and the southern pickets loom above. I know there is a 5th class bit between us and our route onto the upper reaches of the Mustard Glacier, but the slopes ahead look easy.  There's a continuous snow gully all the way up from the pass.

The snow turns out to be 70-degrees where we can climb it. 80-90 degrees in others where I decline the risk. I climb half a pitch of mixed, and then the crampons come off for a longish simul-pitch of low-5th class moat-ratting. Half way up, I've got my boots in the snow, hands on small rock edges. My feet blow, and I'm dangling by one hand. Blood runs freely from a small gash on the other. It's nice to know I can hold on where I think I can. Upward we go. The mist closes in.

We stay roped for the easy ridge crest that follows. It's hard to see anything at all, and the last thing we need is someone walking off a cornice. I worry about finding the route onto the glacier. But just as the ridge rears up toward the summit of Frenzel Spitz, the way becomes obvious. A short rubble filled 3rd class gully leads to the steep snow of the Mustard Glacier. We ascend the glacier. It's consistently steep, ~45-degrees. Visibility does not improve.

At the col we un-rope. I look up at the Wild Hair Crack on Himmelhorn. Amazing, but we don't have the weather or rock shoes. I must return. We make a very short rappel over a chockstone, and proceed down with care. 

There is apparently not a single square inch of flat ground in Crescent Creek basin, not with significant snow cover, at any rate. So we plod on, through intermittent sprinkles, and make the short climb up to the col beneath the chopping block. We hack out a site on the only moderately flat ground we can find: the summit of the pinnacle just Northeast of the Chopping Block. More stomping, more snow-blocks quarried. We climb into the tent, and it begins to rain. Then blow. Then snow.

Rain, Snow, and Vine Maple:
The Twin Needles, after the snow
We're trapped in the tent for 36 hours. It snows us in. Very short breaks allow quick trips outside for elimination. We read most of Ender's Game aloud. The morning after our snow day reveals clearing skies, and bitter cold. There is 7 inches of soft slop on top of the consolidating summer snow pack. We decide the risks of big soft slides is to great for us to go out via Elephant Butte, the travel too painful through the mush. So we pack up and prepare for the brush along Terror and Goodall creeks.

We descend the barrier in good time, turning left down steep and cliffy forest at 3700'. We avoid the drops and most of the brush until the last few hundred yards to Terror creek (2200'). The vine maple does not let us go without a fight. We locate a good log immediately, and start up hill on the far side of the creek. We gain a few hundred feet and begin traversing. The brush thins, but never departs. At last, we strike the Terror Basin route, and follow a good* tread all the way out to highway 20.

The sun is blazing. We stick out our thumbs and no one stops. Finally Ethan heads toward the North Cascades NP Visitors Center. Almost immediately he finagles a ride for me 20 miles up the road to where our car is parked. We pack up, and the gluttony begins. We eat our way across the state, stopping first at the BBQ Caboose, then the Burger Barn. Tragically, Cascadian Farms is closed. We watch the fireworks with Ethan's ever hospitable parents, and cap the day with ice cream and rum-pot. A shower and a civilized bed never felt so good. And yet, I want to go back.

*'Good' is a relative term here. There are many places in the Goodall creek bottom land where the tread is so overgrown you can't see your feet, or the ankle breaking holes in the trail, but it's far, FAR better than no trail at all.

Postscript and Stats:
The only things to regret about this trip are the north buttresses of Fury and Terror. I'll have to come back for those. In every other respect things couldn't have gone better. We faced some very challenging conditions, achieved a lot, and came out at the end still smiling. Still wanting more. Our team of three was pretty much perfect in every way. Ethan and Grace were both great, even on the tent days, and during the more stressful moments. I hope I was too.
Geographic:
Peaks: Teewinot, Challenger, Luna, Fury, Outrigger.
Hillmap stats: 18,000' cumulative gain over 41 miles.
I wanted to google-earth our route, figure out total distance and cumulative elevation gain. But I'm too lazy. Maybe Ethan will pitch in with that.

Photographic:
Photos taken: ~3200* 
Photos saved: 518
Hours of photo processing: ~30
Memory cards: 56GB
Batteries: 7
Gear: Panasonic G3; Panasonic 20mm f1.7; Olympus 12 mm f2.0; Panasonic 45-200 mm f4.0-5.6; cable release; mini-tripod.
Total Weight: 5.2 lbs
*Earlier reports of a lower number were due to a missing memory card.

Person/Pack Weights:
Ethan ......before: (170/50 lbs)
................after: (162/30 lbs)

Grace ......before: (136/42 lbs)
................after: (130/38 lbs)

Obadiah ..before: (191/54 lbs)
................after: (180/38 lbs)


Photo Onslaught:



2012-05-02

The Black Canyon


4/30/2012
The Black Canyon: legendary for hard climbs and loose rock. At 2700' deep, and at times only 1000' across, there is no other canyon in North America that is so precipitous. This is the home of the biggest vertical walls in Colorado, and they seem endless. Intimidating. To quote the NPS website:

"Black Canyon is not a place for the beginning climber. Of the one hundred forty five climbs that are either found in Black Canyon Rock Climbs or are known by the Park Service; eight are rated at 5.8, and of these eight only four have good information available and see regular ascents. Twenty one climbs have a rating of 5.9; five of these are aid routes and only six of them see any significant climbing activity. The other one hundred and seventeen climbs have ratings between 5.10 and 5.13 and many require aid"

Ethan and I arrived at the canyon on Saturday afternoon, and began scoping out possible camp sites. One of the many cool things about this park is that the entire thing is one big cross-country camping zone. As long as you are out of sight from trails and roads, it's fair game. You just need to fill out a free backcountry use permit. In meandering along the canyon rim, we found a view that was particularly photogenic, close to a series of "sky islands": detached portions of the canyon walls, not yet sufficiently sharpened by erosion to qualify as spires. How about one of those for a campsite?

A bit of 3rd and 4th class down-climbing got us to the deep narrow notch between our proposed island camp and the canyon rim. Then half a pitch of bushy 4th and 5th followed by a hundred feet of easy scrambling got us to our spectacular camp. The only sign of previous human presence was one VERY old rappel sling in the ascent gully: grey rotting cotton of twisted (not kernmantle) construction. Probably 50 years old. On top we found well developed areas of cryptobiotic soil, which we did our best not to disturb. The views were amazing, and lonely. We were quite close to a developed viewpoint, and only one person -a lone motorcyclist- stopped there during our stay.

On Sunday, we climbed the Casual Route, 5.8. Supposedly one of the best "easy" climbs in the canyon. It only gets two stars on Mountain Project, and I think that's about what it deserves: Pitches 1 and 2 were good fun, if not overly memorable. Pitch 3 and 5 were bushy, discontinuous, and unpleasant. But pitch 4 was awesome: a beautiful, clean 5.8 finger crack leads to the base of a 5.8 chimney, which is quite secure and well protected. The chimney narrows as it climbs, so that to escape the top you have to make a solid hand jam below the roof and then just "huck your meat into the wind"* and start smearing and stemming to get up into the V-slot above. The final move over the lip stopped me cold, and I never did figure out how to do it free. I aided it. Unable to get his wrist-brace jammed into the crack, Ethan didn't have any chance of freeing it either, and resorted to prussiking up the rope. Above the chimney is a V-slot and a short steep slab that lead easily to a comfortable belay ledge. Hard to be sure weather this pitch is as hard as I found it, or if I just missed something! We unroped after pitch 5, and began scrambling up the steep bushy gully leading to the canyon rim. One more bonus pitch (25', 5.7) got us around a huge chockstone, and we were back to the car 6 hours after we left. 3 episodes of Wait Wait, and two of TAL kept us awake on the drive home. Great trip!

*Quote attribution: Dallas A.



2012-03-11

Longs Peak Lunacy

Longs Peak, notch couloir. 3/10/2012 06:44
3/10/2012
Sometime durring or after Grace and I climbed the Notch Couloir on Longs Peak, I conceived the idea of photographing the peak with the moon setting into the notch. I figured out when and where this might be done using a map, compass, calculator, and an astronomical table. It took hours.

Then I discovered The Photographer's Ephemeris, which will do the same job in a few minutes. There is a free desktop version or, for a modest fee, you can get it on your smart phone (iOS & Android). With it, you can calculate azimuth and altitude to the sun and moon anywhere on earth, any time. You can measure the apparent altitude of terrain features from a given location. You can correct sunrise and sunset times for the apparent altitude of the horizon. It even uses your location to automatically detect your timezone and daylight savings time status. The only thing it hasn't got that I wanted is a table showing the dates of lunar perigee and apogee.

With the help of TPE, I arrived at one nearly ideal point in space-time for the shot:

When: March 10th, 06:40; 
Where: N40.282341, W-105.514627, 12200' elevation

It took no convincing for Ethan to accompany me for my appointment with moon and mountain. I left Denver at 01:10 saturday morning and picked up Ethan at a quarter to two. By 05:30 we were standing on the southern summit of Twin Sisters Mountain waiting for the moon to descend. We weren't disappointed.

2012-03-02

Canyon Country

2/18-2/26

Grace and I had a week off which we'd planned to spend ice climbing in Cody. Then I screwed up my back just a few weeks beforehand, and climbing was no longer an option. Hannah cured me via email, but I still wasn't in shape for the abuse. It's hard to imagine a worse nightmare than having your back seize up while leading a steep pillar.

So we decided on the inverse of mountains: canyon country. Arches, Brice, Grand Canyon, and Canyonlands national parks. I hadn't been to any of them, and Grace hadn't been to the Grand Canyon since she was in high school. We enjoyed hiking in Arches and Brice in the snow and bitter cold, then hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and lounged in 72 degree weather by the Colorado river. Finally we met up with David, Klara, and Marco for a two night stay in the Needles district of Canyonlands. Everything went very smoothly, and we had a great time. Perhaps the only really disconcerting moment was discovering afterward that the spring we'd been drinking from in the Grand Canyon had arsenic levels "above municipal safety limits"!

Photo Galleries:
Arches NP

Brice Canyon NP
Grand Canyon NP
Canyonlands NP