The Eldorado Icecap 7/26-29

Eldorado, from Klawatti

After getting out of the Enchantments, Brian, Michelle and I headed out to the Eldorado ice cap, with the intention of climbing the SW face of Early Morning Spire, SW buttress of Dorado Needle, the east ridge of Eldorado, and possibly Klawatti. However as, when Grace and I tried a similar plan years ago, the SW buttress of Dorado Needle proved to be ample challenge. Early Morning Spire is now approaching nemesis status for me, and I've never laid eyes on the objective face!

We spent our first night at the east ridge of Eldorado, and moved on for Dorado Needle in the morning. It was noon by the time we were established at the toe of the buttress, and just past dark when we touched down on the glacier on the far side. The route went pretty well, but was a little looser and harder to protect than I remembered, probably because I was comparing it to Prusik peak which, really, isn't fair. The good pitches still delivered excellent climbing, but Michelle had a scare when she pulled off a microwave sized block on one of the not-so-good pitches. Fortunately, she was the last one up, and was uninjured. The route is now a bit cleaner! We climbed a different finish from my last time on the route, further left, skipping the summit and joining the NE ridge half a pitch below. This was an easier but much less spectacular choice from what is in my original description.

Michelle and Brian, high on the SW Buttress of
Dorado Needle

We got back to the tent around midnight to find a bushy tailed wood rat trying ineffectually to reach our food. The next 30 minutes of tent setup and settling in were punctuated by shouts and thrown pebbles, as the persistent creature kept trying to sneak into packs and/or the Megalite to get at the food.

No one felt like doing an alpine start to attempt Early Morning Spire. Dorado Needle had more or less kicked our buts, and I had pus and other fluids leaking from my toes. They'd taken a beating in the enchantments, and didn't much care for long days in rock shoes. So we set our sights on Klawatti the next day. This was a super laid back, and spectacular choice. I've never been further out on the icecap than Dorado Needle, so seeing everything from a new perspective was a treat. We dropped our gear on some rock outcrops at Klawatti col, and headed up the SW buttress. We gained the rock from high on the right, and had one 5th class pitch on clean rock to reach the buttress crest. From there it gets easier and looser. We unroped, and scrambled quickly to the summit. We had all afternoon on a short route in prefect weather, so we lounged on top for a good half hour – the only time on this trip we were really able to enjoy a summit. Weather and darkness had pushed us off Prusik and Dorado Needle as fast as we could go. I don't think you could ever classify Klawatti as good climbing, but it's position at the heart of such a special place in North Cascades National Park makes it must-do if you find yourself in the area.

Brian contemplates the icecap from the summit of Klawatti peak

The next morning we packed up and headed out, with a stop on the way to mosey up the East Ridge of Eldorado. Spectacular, as always. After that it was just a long hot hike out to the car, and a race to see if we could make it to Cascadian Farms before closing.

Photos:

The Enchantments: 7/20-24 2016

Prusik peak above Gnome Tarn

The day before the trip I am unable to walk a mile. Shooting pain from a troublesome bulging disk; I haven't been completely pain free in five months, not since building a closet for our Au'Pair in February. But this is way worse. So I load up my pack and try walking that around. Oddly, this feels better.

The next morning I meet Brian, Michelle, Peter, Ethan, Adam, and Olivia at the Heidelberger, and we begin the long walk up and over Asgaard Pass, into the enchantments. It's a beautiful warm day, with just enough cloud cover to keep us from cooking on the way up the pass. As long as I keep moving, the pain stays away.

The goats greet us on the way up the pass; the Nannys shepherd the kids away. The billies stare belligerently. We camp on a rocky outcrop just below the Snow Creek Glaciers and become accustomed to these surly 300 lb beasts roaming around and through our camp.

Nanny and Kid, sunset.

Ethan about to begin the classic knife-edge section.

We move out the next morning at some none-to-early hour, moving camp to a lovely new site on the knoll that separates inspiration and perfection lakes. Then it's off toward Prusik Peak. The ultra-classic West Ridge (5.7) seems like just the warm-up climb we all need before attempting anything more difficult. We split into two teams of three (Peter is here to hike, not climb), and ascend toward the objective ridge. Being as I'm the only one who's been here before I wind up leading the party toward the notch where the climb starts, and make some bad choices. It's been 9 years since I was here last, and I haven't read any route descriptions on this climb since then! It's definitely better to go straight up and over the rocky knoll(s) between Prusik Pass and the objective ridge than to contour around on the north side, especially when said slope is still covered in hard late-summer snow.

The route is just as much fun as I remembered. Good rock, good cracks, never very hard, always spectacular. But by the time I am leading the last pitch a bank of thunder clouds is rumbling onto the plateau, enveloping Dragontail and Little Annapurna. Ethan, Adam, and I do not linger, and Brian Michelle and Oliva choose to bail down the north face, wisely forgoing the last pitch and the summit.

Adam and Ethan scurry across the summit of Prusik Peak
ahead of the approaching storm.

If you rap straight down (60m) from the northeast corner of the summit block you wind up on the same big ledge system you're on when you start the last pitch. From here, you have two choices. You can keep going straight down a gully system (our route) which gets you to 2nd class terrain in one more 60 m pitch, or you can traverse back west along the ledge system to another station near it's west end. This latter route (which Brian, Michelle, and Olivia chose) lands you on a sneaky little ledge system that leads right back to the notch at the start of the route, which is awesome, but the terrain you have to rappel over (2-3 30 m pitches) is decidedly rope hungry. We learn this the hard way a few days later. 

The next day it's grey, foggy, and spitting rain. We lounge in camp, watch "goat TV". Ethan discovers that he can pose the goats at will by anointing whatever rock seems most scenic. The goats rush over and battle it out to slurp up the urine. Eventually we all give up on climbing and head out for a hike down snow creek; naturally the weather clears shortly after we leave camp. Brian and Michelle decide to go back and  complete the West Ridge of Prusik, while the rest of us settle for a nice day of rambling and scrambling.

Adam boulders the south face of Prusik. The best start for
the Beckey and Stanley-Bergner routes is two cracks
to the right.

After a lovely lunch at Lake Vivienne we head off-trail to scramble up beneath the south face of Prusik, and from there up to a notch on Temple Ridge. On the way down we walk right under the south face on our way to Gnome Tarn. Going in, I had no real intention of climbing this face, but looking at it close up... it's just too beautiful not to. Perfect rock, splitter cracks, if only there was a route that didn't involve 5.9+ squeeze chimneys...

Back at camp Ethan and I study route descriptions. Huh. Aside from the first pitch, the Beckey route (5.9, supposedly) seems to be off-width-free, and there's a foot note that you can avoid the initial chimney in a 5.8 jam crack! We make plans with Michelle for the three of us to tackle it the next day.

But all through the night my back is killing me. I can't sleep for the pain. It's worse than ever, and in the morning I'm super depressed, thinking we'll have to call off the climb. Then I spend half an hour around dawn contorting myself into all kinds of odd positions photographing goats. Something cracks in there, and I feel better. I keep feeling better! We head up to the base of the route.

The Beckey route goes like this for us: We start up kind of late, but hey the rock has to warm up first, right? I lead everything on the face, make a few wrong turns. We sweat like crazy, run out of water, and wonder if we're in over our heads. But we have so much fun! 

Michelle, completing our 3rd pitch

One splitter pitch left!

I have an amusing episode leading seventh pitch where my right forearm cramps, involuntarily folding my middle finger down to my palm. I have to pry my hand open on the rock to make the next jam. I laugh and keep going. At the notch on the summit ridge Michelle takes the lead and flashes the splitter summit pitch. Ethan and I grovel in her wake, yarding on gear like gorillas with muscular dystrophy. We rap down in the dark, and get the rope stuck on the last pull, having taken the western option. Brian, and Adam see our headlamps coming down and rush up from camp with water and food. Amazing, climb, amazing friends. Back pain cured.

Michelle and I return the next day to free the rope, and then it's time to hike out.

Prusik Peak - South Face - Beckey Route: 5.9/C1 or 10a

(1) Jam the hand and fist crack behind a flake, just left of the huge chimney/slot that is the standard start (5.8+). Move right on the the first big ledge you come to and belay just left of the big chimney. Don't keep going up and left in the tree studded slot. That's the Stanely-Bergner. (2) Climb right around the corner scampering up toward the top of the chimney. Pull past the small tree/bush at the bulge using huge chickenheads, and wander up though a sea of beautiful rock until you run out of gear or rope. Great climbing, no commanding features worth describing (5.7). (3,4) Climb more nondescript but fun, clean, rock for another two pitches (5.7) until you reach Snaffle-hound Ledge. (5) Traverse climbers right, up and down a lot, until you find a beautiful finger crack in a left facing dihedral behind a boulder and a clump of trees. (6) Climb the crack (5.8) to a small ledge. Do not follow the beautiful hand crack that goes up and right. instead, step left around a bulge and ascend flaring jam cracks to a small belay stance 5.9+ (or 5.8 C0 for me). (7) proceed up and left, in the obvious crack system until you hit the ridge crest (5.8). (8) Climb the short gorgeous hand/finger crack to the summit (10a, or C1).

PHOTOS

Superresolution Lunacy

Ever since my original moonshot of Longs Peak, I've been itching to go back. I want a bigger print of that shot than the file quality supports - caused primarily by the rather poor lens I used on the original trip. I also wanted a repeat with different light.

I left Denver at 02:00 last Friday morning, figuring that there would be a beaten trail to the summit of the Twin Sisters, that 2.5 hours should be plenty for me to gain 2700'. I figured wrong. What should have been a pleasant moonlit hike turned into a brutal time trial against moon and mountain. I had to break trail up the last 800', through deep soft snow with horrific breakable crust. Bad on the way up, it got even worse on the far side of Twin Sister East. In the end, I didn't make it to my intended position. When the moon looked to be about 6 minutes away from setting I had to stop where I was and start shooting, even though it wasn't the composition I wanted.

I've recently been  intrigued by super-resolution composites. The idea is to shoot a burst of images at the same composition and settings, align them, up-res, and average the result. Ideally, small camera movements allow the sensor to sample different scene elements in each image, and that average result can have a resolution well above that native to the sensor. Just as important, if not more so, the averaging process should reduce noise by 1/sqrt(N), N being the number of frames. With 16 frames That should amount to a 2-stop increase in acceptable dynamic range by suppressing shadow noise. 

The two images above show the result. The first is a single frame, and the second is the super-resolution composite. Both have had exactly the same sharpening and noise reduction applied in Lightroom. The three finished images posted here are all super-resolution composites of 10 images, all shot hand held. I settled on 10 frames, as that appears to be about the maximum my computer can handle in a reasonable timeframe. I'm quite pleased with how good the result is with little in the way of manual fiddling in photoshop. There is a very marked increase in resolved detail in the composite, though it is difficult to know if this is primarily due to simple noise reduction or the super-resolution effect. Either way, it allowed me to shoot images hand-held that would have absolutely required a tripod without this technique. In fact, I suspect that even using a tripod I could not have achieved as a good a result, since the exposure density in the shadows could not have been increased without clipping the highlights in the moon. One could certainly use an exposure bracketing technique to achieve a similar result, but the ease of shooting and processing with this technique seems superior for my purposes.

I'm still not sure I have the shot I want hanging on our wall, so another moonlight stroll will be in order at some point. Next time I'll leave at 01:00 and make myself a cup of tea while I wait for moonset at my intended location.

Update: 
I can do more frames if I get my operations in the right order. Best practice seems to be:
1. Load images as layers
2. Align images into even groups in batches of less than 10 (auto align, no distortion correction.
3. Convert to smart object.
4. Up-res.
5. Set stack mode: mean or median (I've not found much of any difference, though median should be more tolerant if there is a single mis-aligned frame).
6. Rasterize and delete black shaded areas created where there was no image data.
7. Repeat step 2, 3, and 5 to combine the groups of 10.
8. Rasterize.

Of course, for these moon photos I had to cut out the moon from each frame and align mountain and moon separately, as the 1-2 seconds it takes to capture a burst of 30 images is enough time for the moon to move by several pixels. Using 30 images instead of 10 leads to a noticeable improvement in quality, particularly in the sky smoothness.

Full size files are here: