Claim Jumper

If it can be said that there was an upside to the floods last month it's this: fat aquifers. Wonderful early season ice climbing. With RMNP closed Serge and I set our sights further south, and through a recommendation on Mountain Project found a  little gem of easy mixed and ice climbing: Claim Jumper, WI3/M3. The climbing is just challenging and sustained enough to be great fun, while never being scary or intimidating at all. Really just a joyful romp in the mountains. We had 3 pitches, about 550', of climbing followed by a somewhat tedious descent down the very loose adjacent gully. I'm sure it's quite easy when snow filled, but we ended up improvising one rappel, and doing another pitch of belayed down climbing. The terrain was pretty easy but there was so much loose rock around just scrambling down seemed very likely to end in tears (or blood). Best of all, going up on Monday we had the place entirely to ourselves.

All in all a fantastic day out. Thanks Serge!
PHOTO GALLERY

Crestone Needle - Ellingwood Ledges Direct

9/8/2013

On Sunday, Grace and I climbed the direct variation of the Ellingwood ledges route on Crestone Needle. It's a beautiful route on a beautiful peak, consisting of a few pitches of mid 5th class to 5.7 with one really burly move (5.8?), and lots of 3rd 4th, and low 5th class scrambling. A worthy route, and probably our last big one before the baby comes. And no, I'm not being cruel making making Grace climb at 7-months gestation - I suggested a hike, and she insisted something harder. I married the right woman!

Crestone Needle (L) and Humboldt peak (R). Both "14ers". One worth climbing, the other... maybe not.

Crestone Needle is over 14k, so careful acclimatization was a must for me. I'd no interest in repeating my Longs Peak experience. We drove up to the trailhead at 8800' on Friday night and slept in the car, then approached on Saturday morning to the 12,000' South Colony lakes. We tried driving the road up to the 4WD trailhead, but one particularly rocky steep section defeated the Forester, and we parked along the road just a mile or two in from the 2WD lot. We walked the rest, and to our surprise saw two Foresters in the upper lot! We apparently need either more skill or more determination in our driving. Arriving at the lakes around noon with nothing to do was a little weird, but quite pleasant. We spent the rest of the day napping, enjoying various soups, and scouting the start of the route.

The next morning I started leading up the first pitch at 06:00, half an hour before sunrise. It's a bit of a scary start with a good fifteen or twenty feet up to the first piece of gear, but not hard. After that it was an easy cruise up the gully/open book to a headwall. I belayed out right and brought Grace up. I'm not entirely clear on where the next pitch is supposed to go. Surmounting the headwall to continue up the book looked unappealing, and harder than 5.6 so I escaped up and left onto a big grassy ledge.

Above the crux pitch

Another pitch of mid 5th class climbing up a steep wall brought us to the broad blunt arete that leads to a last steep headwall before the summit. We pulled half the rope into coils and took off simul-climbing. There are any number of possible routes, and we wove our way up and a bit left. Most of it was 3rd or 4th class, but there were a few low 5th class spots. Overall, I think staying roped accelerated the climbing as I could throw in a few more pieces of gear whenever things got extra hard or exposed.

At the headwall we caught up with a party of 5 that had come up the standard ledges route, skipping our first three pitches. They were friendly, and graciously offered to let us pass, but two of the group were already heading up the first headwall pitch (a beautiful 5.6 crack), one of whom had apparently never followed a trad pitch - ever.

After much tangled rope and mangled belay commands, the leader reached the top and began bringing up his follower. I let her get half way up the pitch, then began leading up it myself. When I caught up to her, she was stuck at a blank 5.11ish wall, which the rope ran straight up. I suggested that maybe the leader had gone around on the low-5th class ledges immediately to her right, and that she should too. Soon she was up. Soon after that I hear "ROCK!" from her belayer. Something compresses my spine and almost knocks me off. It's textbook impact, squarely on top of my helmet. Rattled but OK, I make my way up the rest of the pitch. Surprised that I don't get an immediate apology I comment that my helmet did it's job. Maybe they don't know they nailed me. The girl says nothing. Her belayer only comments that "that's what helmets are for." I don't speak to them again, except to mutter a grudging thanks when they let us pass. I can accept getting hit, forgive and forget. but I want to be asked, and I want them to admit they've fucked up. Never mind.

I fire through the crux pitch, with some hesitation at a very burly bulge/overhang that feels harder than 5.7. Then we're off and running, and never see anyone from that party again.

On top we spent some time taking in the views, and chatting with Justin, a friendly guy who'd come up the standard (3rd/4th class) scramble route solo. He seemed to be looking for company, and offered to show us the way down. Happy to accept, we descended together. The scramble route was actually really fun and solid, but we were grateful to have someone who knew the way, as it's also complex. It would have been a good deal more stressful trying to find the way down on our own. 

At broken hand pass we stopped for a snack, and bid Justin farewell. He was hustling back to his truck, having done the climb as a day trip. How I wish my body could manage altitude like that! Back at camp by 14:00, Grace and I enjoyed a couple last rounds of soup before heading back down to the car. Another nice guy gave us a lift the last mile down the 4WD road, and we were back to our car by 18:00.

All in all, a great trip, with a few lessons.

1. Two nights at elevation seems to do the trick for me. I felt great on top (14,200'), but for a very slight headache. 
2. People are a mixed bag. Sometimes they help you out, sometimes they drop rocks on you without apology.
3. Beginners are dangerous in the mountains, and not just because they are slow. There's no conception of how a misplaced foot could kill those below them, none of the constant vigilance that is so necessary. This is the first time I've ever been hit by a rock in 8 years of climbing, and it was NOT a pleasant experience, even though I didn't get hurt. Most of the party of 5 we encountered on the route seemed to be quite experienced and it was very nice of them to let us pass - but 13,500 on a popular alpine route is no place to be teaching someone how to belay and follow a trad route no matter who you are!

Photo Gallery

Lone Eagle Peak - North Face

8/10-11/2013

Lone Eagle peak may be the most striking mountain in Colorado. Grace and I approached from Monarch Lake on Saturday, and the whole vale from trailhead to cirque is simply lovely.  Thousands of wild flowers and delicious ripe berries, waterfalls and still meadows around every corner. A short steep climb up to the final lake basin (8 miles in), and there it is: a perfect needle-sharp granite spire reflected in the still water of aptly-named Mirror Lake. Perfect solitude.

Lone Eagle Peak from Mirror Lake

On Sunday Grace and I climbed the north face route, which goes at 5.7 and, according to some descriptions, 11 pitches. In reality much of the climbing is on steep meadows with trees and the occasional rock step. Pleasant, easy alpine terrain.

Grace coming up the final real pitch.

The route begins at a short steep wall (5.6) where the sheer peak rises abruptly from the crest of a forested ridge. This is easily identified from a distance as where two large ramps sweep down from the left and right, meeting in a large treed ledge. We climbed one approach pitch at about 5.6, to the ledge, then simul-climbed up the obvious and easy leftward ramp with many trees, and the occasional low 5th rock step. The ramp peters out at the base of a huge gully system leading up and slightly right. Easy scrambling up the gully leads to the "5.4 chimney" of the standard route, which was flowing with water. Instead of groveling up this waterfall we opted for the huge corner to the right, which went at ~5.7 with excellent rock and gear. I belayed form a large tree on the next ledge. Another long simul pitch led to the top of the gully after one more interesting rock step. From here the difficulty increases. The gully terminates at a huge ledge system that wraps around the final sheer summit pyramid. We traversed southeast around the peak until I spotted the "twin cracks" that mark the crux pitch. Really, it's a system of flakes, and it's very obvious: the only weakness that looks easier than 5.10. What a pitch! Solid jams behind the flakes, good gear, and when the main system steepens improbably a system of rightward traversing ramps provides an escape. The pitch ends at another large ledge system just a few hundred feet below the summit. For the next pitch I traversed right along the ledge (south along the east face) for perhaps 50 feet before it petered out into a sea of flakes and small ramps. This turned out to be fun 5.7ish climbing along a constant rising traverse to the right. I ran out of rope about 30 feet below the summit ridge at a good belay ledge. From there we simuled over the summit and down the 4th class descent, Solo Flight, a popular route in itself.

On the descent we got hailed on a bit, and rained on a bit more, but there was no lightening until we were really back in the valley. We packed up, fully expecting to make the hike out in pounding thundershowers, but the clouds blew away and the sun shone all the way down to the horizon. We reached the trailhead just after sunset. Burgers were had at Maverick's Grille in Grandby, where they seated us despite the fact that we walked in with two minutes to go until closing. The waitress even brought us to-go cups for our coffee which fueled the drive home. Good food and friendly service after closing time: a highly recommended stop!

PHOTOS

Mt. Rainier - Tahoma Glacier

6/21-23/2013

Long, scenic, challenging, seldom climbed; the Tahoma Glacier on Mt. Rainier has all the attributes that attract me to a route. But could we do it with only one solid day of good weather in the forecast? Rain Friday morning, clearing in the evening. Clear Saturday. Storm rolling in Sunday. I was not optimistic.

Party of five for Tahoma, up the westside road

Grace, Ethan, and I headed down to MRNP early on Thursday to pickup permits, then headed back to our room at the Nisqually Lodge to pack up and have a bit of impromptu cravasse rescue practice (pro tip: slotting a picket behind a closed door makes a great practice anchor!) Jim and Melissa arrived around 22:00, and we all slept until the alarm sounded at 04:00.

Car shuttle to Paradise set up, we were hiking by 07:00, about an hour later than planned. We departed up the westside road in mist and intermittent rain. 2800 feet under our boots, 11610 to go!

It rained all morning; not merely misting, but pattering, soaking, rain. Still, as with Sahale, the forest was amazing. We probably could have made better time if Ethan and I were not constantly lagging behind to try and capture the beauty surrounding us.

At least in my memory, the scenery made up for the misery. We didn't want to stop for anything. It was too cold to stop moving, and too wet for us to want to break out any of our insulating layers.

We hit snow on the switchbacks up to Saint Andrews park, and bid farewell to trail. But as we reached the 5-6,000' level we began to break out of the mist. Shortly after cresting the ridge that becomes the Puyallup cleaver we even saw The Mountian. Massive morale boost. Stoke!

The clearing weather energized us. The worsening snow conditions sucked that energy out nearly as fast as it arrived. Snow conditions moving up the cleaver were poor. On the Puyallup glacier they were soul crushing. We roped up and headed out onto the glacier at about 7800', somewhat above Tokaloo rock. The glacier surface alternated between knee and shin deep mashed potatoes, with a weak breakable crust about 8" down making the difference from step to step.

Our goal had been to camp near 9200' on the cleaver, but the snow conditions combined with our somewhat late start dictated a lower camp. At ~19:00 Ethan made a heroic push, kicking steps for the last several hundred feet up to a promising col where we settled in for the night at just 8800'.

About to drop onto the Puyallup glacier

The long brutal approach to our high camp convinced Jim and Melissa that they'd had enough. No interest in climbing another 5600' the following day. They kindly lent us some ice screws and their SPOT beacon, and we all went to bed.

Grace, Ethan, and I moved out from camp the following morning around 04:45. Snow conditions were still not ideal on the Puyallup glacier, and I was thinking we might have to turn back. Then we dropped over the ice ramp at 10,000' onto the Tahoma glacier and everything changed. A cold wind was blowing off the summit ice cap and sweeping down the glacier. We were on perfect styrofoam neve all the way up until things softened a bit above 13,500'.

Our approximate route on the Tahoma glacier headwall

Immediately, the weaving began. This is a big broken glacier, even in June, and it took quite a lot of attention to keep us moving without a dead end. Still snow bridges were plentiful and strong, and we made good time.  Our route weaved up the center-left of the glacier, avoiding the huge debris zones to either side that are swept by serac fall from twin ice cliffs above.  Around 12,000' we came up to a large cravasse, and made a tricky move across a soft snow-bridge, over the opposing lip (5' up), and up the steep slope above. 

We had observed that (a) the huge cravasse evident at around 13k might not go, and (b) if one could enter the Sickle (gully on the left margin of the face) high enough it would be possible to avoid any objective hazard from the obvious ice cliff. So we swung left from above the big cravasse and entered the Sickle at a point were a big ice arete protected us form the main ice cliff. From there we rapidly made our way up to 13k, where the angle eases, and took a long break.

After 2 hours of snacking and melting snow, we were off again, trudging for the summit. Shortly Ethan took over for me as I was getting headachy and dizzy. He kicked steps all the way to Columbia Crest. He and Grace combined more or less towed me the last few hundred feet. We spent a very short time on the summit, which was shockingly cold after our long hot trudge to get there. We reached 13k right at noon. We didn't summit (14,410') until 17:20.

Having spent the previous two days in pristine wilderness, the DC route was a bit shocking: an 18-inch deep trench marked out by wands and fixed ropes. Still it was nice to have for the descent. We made camp at Ingraham flats just after sunset (21:00), where Grace had the pleasure of removing someone's poop from our tent site.

I woke around 03:00 to the sound of wind and snow scouring the tent, and guides leading their clients up the mountain. What the hell? These people are deranged! I went back to sleep.

We got moving around 10:30 in a complete whiteout. An hour's trudge down the trail brought us to camp Muir where we had a leisurely lunch. Then we bombed down the Muir snowfield with several good glissaids, making it to Paradise in just an hour and a half.

Overall this was a fantastic route. By far the coolest glacier climb I've done in the Cascades. On par with the Bravo Glacier on Waddington, but with MUCH better snow conditions than when Jim and I attempted that.

Gear: We carried a picket each, and five ice screws. I used one picket as running pro above our tricky cravasse crossing, and one screw as a quick anchor on the ice arete, but otherwise the pro was not needed. Grace and I each had a second tool, Ethan only his mountain axe. The ice tool was very comforting geting over the tricky cravasse, and useful in the Sickle. Not necessary, but I think they sped us up, and led me to place less pro. I'd probably bring the same if I had it to do over.

Thanks to Ethan, Grace, Jim, and Melissa for such a great trip!

Sahale Peak - Sahale Glacier

6/17/2013

Some say the view from Sahale is the best in the Cascades. I don't see how this could true, but it is something special. 

Grace and I were out in the Pacific Northwest for a week of vacation, hopefully climbing, but as with last year, the weather forecast was not promising. This is one drawback of Grace's career in medicine: no flexibility on vacation time. But we'd driven all the way out from colorado with Ethan, and were determined to make the best of our time.

Eldorado, Torment, and Forbidden

Our ambitious plan was to climb the North Ridge of Formidable with just two days of iffy weather. But when we showed up at Cascade Pass trailhead the weather was even worse than we had feared, with significant active rainfall. Ethan and I were all for napping in the car to see if things might clear. Grace dragged us out and up the trail on sheer enthusiasm.

Once moving we all felt better, and the misty forest was lovely. Still, upon reaching Cascade pass, it was evident that it was too late in the day, and the weather still too thick, for us to attempt getting over Cache col and up Formidable that day. Plan B. Somehow, despite all our Cascades adventures, none of us had ever climbed Sahale.

The hike up the arm went quickly, and soon the clouds broke up and we could see the summit. We reached our high camp just below the glacier in mid afternoon, and spent a while melting water, soaking up the views, and enjoying some hot soup. Formidable remained stubbornly shrouded in cloud while we basked in the sunshine. Good choice!

Finally, we headed up to the summit, bringing pads and sleeping bags so that we could linger for sunset. Ethan and I tackled the southwest corner of the summit pyramid, while Grace took a more direct line up the south face. The former is recommended! Very solid rock, with great jams, and lots of protection opportunities if you bother to bring a rope. Grace found her line OK, but when Ethan and I descended more south-east it wasn't as pleasant. There seem to by a myriad of 4th class routes up this thing, some better than others.

We enjoyed the summit for several hours, watching waves of wispy cloud roll through the peaks, then, with sunset over, we headed back to our tent for a solid night's sleep. The down-climb was a little spicy in the failing light, but not too difficult.

In the morning, the sun still shone, but the valleys were filled with cloud. We descended into the mist, and ended the trip as it had begun.

Longs Peak - Notch Couloir

6/1/2013

Last year I completely missed the spring mountaineering season in Colorado. So with the snow in the rockies mostly consolidated and the weather for the weekend looking good, both Grace and I really wanted to do something big. Problem was, she had her residency "graduation" dinner Sunday night. That meant doing  something big in a day. This is definitely a prescription for type-2 fun, which I guess is what we were looking for. Maybe we've had too many easy weekends recently. However, It turns out that me attempting a technical route on a 14,000 foot peak without stopping to aclimatize also involves lots of type-3 fun, which, really, isn't fun at all.

Longs Peak, our route in red

We picked up Ethan in Boulder at 02:45 Saturday, and headed up to the Longs Peak trailhead. It was windy, and very cold on the approach up to Chasm Lake, but the bulk of Longs protected us once we were at the base of the route. Conditions were excellent with good snow, cloud cover, and cool temperatures. We made good time up Lambs slide and roped up before starting out across broadway. By the time we got to the base of the couloir I was already slowing down dramatically, but feeling ok. This is just the way it goes for me at altitude - very slowly. But I was focusing on staying hydrated and didn't really feel sick. Both Grace and Ethan were fine.

Descending the Keyhole route, Longs Peak.

I led a long simul pitch most of the way up the couloir and hammered in some pins for an anchor when I ran out of gear. From there, Grace took over the lead, as my slow pace had both her and Ethan shivering. Grace brought us up to the base of the summit cliffs, and found what looked like an easy rib that would bring us to the summit. I led another simul-pitch up almost to the summit ridge, but was stymied by slabs about 20' from topping out. At this point, both Grace and Ethan were getting worried that I was becoming too impaired by the altitude to lead effectively, so they called me down to check out other options and switch leaders. We collectively decided on an alternative route to climbers right, which looked steeper but more positive and protectable than the route I had been trying. Grace did a brilliant job of leading this last pitch to the summit, which I think went at about 5.6. Nevertheless, I don't think we found the "correct" (easiest) route to the summit.

We summited around 18:30 and spent some time soaking up the views and the sunshine. The wind had mostly died down, but it was still quite cold. Around this time I began to feel really sick, with a pounding headache and serious nausea. We opted to descend the keyhole route rather than try and find the rappel anchors down the north face. The views were fantastic.

We followed boot track to something that was not the keyhole. As it was getting dark, we cheated. I whipped out my phone/GPS, and shortly we were back on track.

At the keyhole, in the dark, 22:00. Grace was stumbling, and I just wanted to curl up and die. So we took a little break, heated up some water and I forced down some food. A few minutes later about a pint of the water came back up. Fortunatly I hung on to most of the food. We headed down through intermittent fog.

Occasionally I was able to look up at the stars and really appreciate the grandeur of it all, the way I normally do on these night marches. Mostly I just stumbled on, tried not to puke again. By the time we were back below tree-line the headache and nausea were gone, and it became a straightforward battle with exhaustion.

Back at the car at 02:00, we gorged on cherries, strawberries and peaches. Nothing ever tasted so good.

Redstone Ice

Marble Falls

3/2-4/2013
Grace just finished a hard month in the ICU, and it's our anniversary in a few days. Good enough excuses to spend a few days exploring a new area of colorado, and swing some ice tools. I booked us two nights at the lovely Redstone Inn, and proceeded to empty the gear closet into the car: skis, rock and ice gear, etc.; five distinct kinds of footwear. We've had a few trips recently spoiled by conditions being decidedly not what we expected. Not this time!

We drove out on Saturday morning. Our first stop was Avacado Gully, a classic multi-pitch ice/mixed line just north of Redstone. Not in. Dry as a bone. We were beginning to contemplate alternatives to ice climbing, getting depressed, but driving further down the valley we found a myriad of smears and ice falls visible from the road. Redstone Pillar, Marble Falls, The Drool, and several more unnamed climbs, all in good shape.

Saturday afternoon we got on Marble Falls, and did a few laps before it got dark. Then back to the hotel, where we cooked our dinner in the bathtub of our room - wouldn't want the beer cooking our brats to boil over on any of that antique furniture! Mmmm.

Sunday, we got a leisurely start for a couple of laps on Redstone Pillar. We had intended to checkout The Drool after lunch, but we were misinformed by one of our guidebooks that it was on the property of a hostile landowner, which had us less than excited. So we succumbed to the incipient rain and fatigue, spent the rest of the day scouting some of the unnamed climbs, eating, and napping.

Monday we got up at 04:30 with tentative plans to climb Glenwood Falls, which we'd oogled on the drive over (baking in the sun at the time). It was raining when we got there at 06:00, so we pressed on to Breckenridge for a morning of glorious fresh powder skiing. Grace had to be back for work by 3:00 pm, so we didn't stay long. Highlights of the drive home included watching two separate cars spin off I-70, multiple cars stalled or just plain stopped in the middle of the highway, visibility down to about ten feet, and the aftermath of a half-dozen car pileup in the westbound lane.

All in all, I highly recommend Redstone. The Inn was great, and the climbing was awesome. Long steep climbs in a beautiful secluded setting. We didn't see another climber the whole time we were there. There seems to be just enough traffic to beat out a trail to the base, but not enough to hack out the ice or make for any kind of crowding. I definitely want to go back for The Drool and the various unnamed lines to the east.