Summer Update

Being a dedicated climber isn't always easy. This past year has been one of my most challenging to date. Unfortunetely, this is not because of the gnarly, vision-quest routes I have been sending. Circumstance and work have kept me off the climbs that I had dreamed of completing this summer.

I came back from the Alaska Range, driven to find what I missed on Denali; a deep, mindblowing adventure. Sure, testing out the high altitude game was fascinating and I really enjoyed the powerful beauty of that high summit, but a nagging dissapointment lingered on the flight home. I immediatly began making plans for the longest and hardest objectives I could find in the Cascades. When I'm not pushing my limits, a void settles in. I become restless. I become obsessive.

Now, a few months later, that fleeting mega-climb still hasn't occurred. I think I'm getting the picture. Sometimes you have to let things go. My desire is intense, so I often force objectives. This summer has taught me to balance my drive with patient waiting for the correct variables. On a hard route everything has to come together perfectly. Also, it's important to remember that one reason for not reaching my goals is that they are extremeley difficult and dependent upon conditions. Even if I do not succeed on any of those missions this summer, I can still rest assured that I shot for the stars.

Jess about to hike some wet and wide 5.10

Although my big objectives have not materielized yet, I have been getting out into the Cascades fairly often. I took a trip up the NE buttress of Johannesburg and climbed the Entiat Ice Fall on Mt. Maude. Besides that, my climbs have been local affairs.

Jess on Acid Baby's second crux pitch

One of my most memorable trips of the season, was a lap up Acid Baby with Jessica Campbell. I've been climbing with Jess for a long time and am totally blown away by her bad-assness. She ropegunned me up AB, handling wet, wide 5.10 with ease. She led her pitches with as much, or more effeciency than most people I get to climb with. It was impressive. Whether it's a double digit boulder problem, 5.12 at the crag, or physical, wet crack climbing in the moutains, Jess moves with a steady confidence.

The weather moved in as Jess traveresed the final knife edge ridge...beautiful!

Our day on Acid Baby was full of wild weather. The clouds and chilly air added to the alpine ambiance and were more welcome than the usual heat of Stuart Range summers.

Psyched on the summit of Acid Baby!

The next adventure took Dave, Ryan, and I up Crystal Lake Tower via an obscure 2,000 foot ridge. This feature is best approached from Ingalls Creek and is invisible from nearly every vantage point. This is a hidden gem that more folks should climb, especially after they've ticked the Full North Ridge Stuart and the Backbone on Dragontail. The climbing was awesome, with great views of the Nightmare Needles and the deserts beyond.

Ryan mid-route on the Crystal Lake Tower

Myself leading on CLT

Finally, I made the first solo ascent of Dragons of Eden on Dragontail Peak. I completed the climb in preperation for a one of my "big" goals of the summer, so it was really just an opportunity to hone in some systems. It was a hard day, made a bit rougher by a stomach ailment I am blaming on a local mexican resteraunt. It wasn't the nausea that provided the greatest challenge though. Carrying all of your gear to the base, climbing each roped pitch twice, making sure to not trundle loose blocks on yourself while climbing/rapping/jugging, and free soloing over mid-fith terrain with a heavy load for 1500 feet added significant spice. I was excited to climb such cool route alone, and I hope I can take what I learned to another ambitious project. I'm not gonna force it, but I might get something done this summer after all!!

Summit shot after soloing Dragons of Eden

Mt. Maude's Entiat Icefall

A week ago, Vern Nelson, Matt Shweiker, and I had a causual, but stunning morning on Mt. Maude's Entiat Icefall. This was my second climb of Maude, my first being an ascent of the North Face several years ago. Matt took some great shots that day. Enjoy!

 Camp above Ice Lakes

We started our day by wrapping around the peak and dropping onto it's north side

 The light was amazing

 Vern on the icefall

 Vern and I scrambling through ice chunks

Vern and I on the ridge after the glacier

Dig For It

On May 29th, 2012 Dan Hilden and I stuffed duffel bags of gear and food into a red twin otter and buckled up for the wild flight that is the approach to the Alaska Range (for most people). Our first intent was to climb Denali via the West Buttress for acclimitization purposes, but also to begin the learning process of the intricicies of high altitude climbing. Before this trip, Dan had pegged 15,000 feet in Peru and I had only attained a measly 13,000 in the Sierras. We had no clue what to expect, but hoped we would have the time to attempt the Cassin Ridge after we followed the standard path to the top.

We spent the best weather of our trip hauling loads up to Denali's 14,000 foot basecamp. As we were doing so, two teams were climbing the Cassin. Everything seemed to be falling into place and psyche was high.

Pulling sleds full of gear and food is hard! But beautiful...

A day after arriving at basecamp I cramponed up to 15,500 feet, reveling in the chaotic scene of icefalls, endless white, and the sound of my own steady breathing. The following day, Dan and I peddeled up the West Ridge to 16, 700 feet. The next mission took us to 17,000 feet, where we sat for only minutes in cold, chapping wind. Some days later we used a few good hours of weather to climb a 2,000 foot ice face above basecamp. We topped out on a ridge at 16,000 feet in extremely windy and snowy weather. Fortunetely, we only had to find the fixed lines that were half a mile down the ridge to gain salvation from the storm. Still, those moments showed me how serious it can get when the weather hits the fan.

Basecamp at 14K

And then it really started snowing. A lot. More than I have ever seen, but then again, I haven't really seen much. We dug and dug, unleashing our tent from the suffocating snow that would smother it again only minutes after its liberation. Conditions morphed from squeaky cramponing on firm snow, to thigh deep slogging through oceans of unstable powder. Four people died in an avalanche on a well traveled slope. More were injured in similar accidents, and one skiier was swept away in the Messner Coulior as we watched him make turns down the steep chute. He lived, but shouldn't have and it took a day to get the image of him being overtaken by snow out of my head.

Dan passing a storm day perfecting the alpine pancake

The days passed and our window of time became shorter and shorter. Conditions had not improved and no one was climbing up the mountain by any route other than the trenched out West Buttress. All of the sudden we realized we might not even make the top on this trip. That was a disconcerting thought, but seemed a clear reality, especially after our first summit attempt ended high on the mountain in weather too cold for my toes and Dan's face. Even the summits of our dreams aren't worth losing toes and fingers.

Finally, with only days left before flying out of the range, we left the 14,000 foot camp in warm (hot!) sunshine, hoping beyond hope that we would stand on top. We passed our high point and slogged on to higher elevations. Once above 19,000 feet, the slog intensified. Obviously, the climbing was not technical in nature, but my mind still had to be strong so that I could keep putting one foot in front of the other. We didn't rush, instead relying on a constant, steady pace. Finally, we could go no further and I found myself taking in one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen. Lifetimes of mountains studded the landscape, with twisting rivers and the deep green of forest beyond. Clouds floated below us and I had a real sense of being high in the sky. Our descent went smoothly and soon we were back at camp having made the summit in 11.5 hours round trip from 14K.

Descending on summit day

About to descend the fixed lines on summit day

With only a couple of days left before flying out, and conditions that we didn't feel were safe for big, commiting routes, our trip was done. The Cassin would have to wait.

Although I was dissapointed to spend so much time just trying to hike to the top, I learned so much about climbing at altitude. Of course, thin air makes everything harder and more dangerous, but it also brings an intense focus and immersion in the moment. The sense of accomplishment is stronger and the beautiful details of a climb stand out even more. Dan and I were excited to see that our bodies and minds did well up high. We hope to take what we have learned back to Denali, but also beyond, to the other high mountains of the world.

Below are a few more shots. All photos in this post were taken by Dan Hilden.

 

Dan on an awesome ice pitch during an acclimitization mission

 Another day digging the tent out...

Cumbre!!

Just below the summit 

 Waiting to fly out

 Denali!! See ya next season...

J-Berg and The Valkyrie

After a discouraging, yet inspiring and educational trip to the Alaska Range (more on this in a few days!), I am back in the Pacific Northwest. Most of my time has been taken up by "real world" activities (making wine!), but I have snuck out on a couple of alpine missions. One was not like the other, yet both delivered good days out.

The NE Buttress of J-berg = Classic

First up was The Valkyrie, a new 6 pitch 5.10 established less than two weeks ago by Blake Herrington, Scott Bennet, and Graham Zimmerman. Cole Allen and I squeezed the second ascent in before work one day, finding wet, but classy crack climbing. The route is sustained and splitter with diorite knobs connecting solid crack systems. As I jammed and smeared up the route I marveled at how climbable the rock of the Stuart Range is. There are very few venues in the Northwest where one can climb classic, technically demanding rock routes ground up without any cleaning. The Stuart Range is special and deserves the attention it has been recieving as of late (The Valkyrie already has four ascents and Dragons of Eden was repeated last week too!!).

A week later I teamed up with Shaun Johnson to make a one day ascent of the NE Buttress of Johannesburg, a huge line exemplifying what I like to call "the dark side" of Cascade climbing. And I love "the dark side"! Maybe even more than clean, pretty rock in the Stuart Range...

How are we gonna start this monster?

Although Shaun is new to the alpine, he has enough excitment, passion, and talent for big routes. I wouldn't have asked him to come if I didn't think he was up for it, but I knew the ascent would blow his mind (and mine!).

This way!

Getting on the buttress is the only place we used our rope and was perhaps the spiciest part of the day. We began up one weakness, but bailed without hesitation when ice and rock fall started threatning our position. After a few tense moments we found a better alternative. Soon we had put the cord away and were scrambling through vertical brush, a key element of "the dark side".  

The highlight of the route: knife edge snow climbing way off the deck!

The brush didn't last forever and the rest of our climb was on steep snow fingers, slippery heather, and suprisingly solid, lichen peppered rock.

The valley is far, far below

Lot's of steep snow!

It was really fun to show Shaun the rugged, raw beauty of the Cascade Range. The summit views were breathtaking and we enjoyed the highpoint for a half an hour before beginning our descent to the car. Loose scrambling down the east ridge gained a col and then easy snow fields. We contoured around several peaks before wrapping back around the north side and following a well worn trail to our car.

Climbing in Washington is so varied and enjoying the different styles keeps me inspired. What will the next week hold??

Good and Varied

This past week, Blake Herrington and I enjoyed a well rounded day of scrambling in our home range. Our original goal was to capture the many moods of the Stuart Range by swinging tools up the Triple Couliors on Dragontail, jamming Der Sportsman's (Prusik Peak) flawless cracks, and squeezing our bodies up Hyperspace on the Snow Creek Wall. Tragically, Blake popped a tendon on pitch one of Der, deflating our ability to execute the original plan. Injuries are tough to handle, but Blake chose positivity over frustration, and we went on to gain Prusik's summit via the West Ridge, and later enjoyed the view of Leavenworth from the top of SCW after zooming up Outer Space. The photos below are all Blake's and give a good feel for a beautiful day in the hills! For a full report check out:

 http://www.blakeclimbs.blogspot.com/2012/05/stuart-range-linkup-failure.html

Spring Update

Leavenworth is a land of seasons. Distinct weather patterns sweep through each spring, summer, fall, and winter. They mold the landscape into something different than it was just months before, the dynamic environment making an outdoor amusement park for those who want to ride roller coasters of granite walls and icy north faces. Each week, I study the forcast with an excited eye. A plan of attack is molded to fit the weather pattern. There is always something unique to try. 

Jessica Campbell enjoying spring on Pumpline (5.11a)

May is my favorite month in the Central Cascades. The days are long, the Icicle and Tumwater Canyons are full of dry stone, and the high peaks are bonded in ice and neve. With a big trip on the horizon, most of my time has been spent at work trying to pinch enough pennies for the upcoming mission, but I have snuck out a time or two to enjoy the variety pack of upward movement presented in this season.

The opening moves on An Exotic Affair (5.12a)

On the rock, I have been steadily rehabing my finger and hand. Volume has been my main goal and many days climbing familiar routes at Index and in the Canyons has reconstructed a base of fitness and confidence. Highlights include a flash of Shirley (5.11c) at Index and the first ascent of An Exotic Affair (5.12a) at Careno Crag.

I don't remember the last time I got excited about doing a 5.11, but Shirley, a route with a bit of a reputation for scary, tough climbing, was one I had always wanted to climb first go. As usual, the climbing was not as hard or terrifying as people made it out to be, so the real battle was just getting over the hype and starting the climb. It went fine and now I have another classic pitch to add to the Lower Town Wall circut.

An Exotic Affair

An Exotic Affair is a testy piece high on Careno Crag. It climbs the first 30 feet of Exotic Dancer (5.10a) before setting off on a thin crack pasted next to a bald arete. Commiting moves and precise gear placements fizzle into a bizarre and very technical sequence past two bolts. The final pockets and edges to the anchor are some of the coolest holds I've grabbed in L-Town! The fact that two of the Icicle Canyon's best 5.10's (Exotic Dancer and A Swinging Affair) border my new route, makes this a crag worth visiting for anyone.

Starting the bizzare arete sequence on An Exotic Affair

In the Stuart Range, a low snowpack and unusually high temps have tempered the alpine ice season a bit, but last week, over a two day cold snap, Dan Hilden, Matt Van Biene, and I climbed the NE Coulior on McClellan Peak. An obscure objective, I had tried this obvious line a few times over the years. In the past, a large cornice that often overhangs the route had turned me around, but this time, it wasn't in it's usual position, and we flew up the awesome ice. Nothing beats traveling through the mountains when they are in perfect condition. Exceptional climbing and a massive glissading descent had us back at basecamp before lunch. That things had gone so smoothly on a climb I had failed on (more than once!!) was novel, but not suprising. Conditions are everything and our recent adventure on McClellan defined a perfect day in every way.

McClellan Peak from Snow Lake

Photo by Matt Van Biene

For those who flock to the Stuart Range for the more standard spring routes, consider adding the NE Coulior of McClellan to your list. It is a beautiful alpine ice route (in the right shape) falling straight from the summit ridge on one of the highest peaks in the state. Although we have never heard of an ascent of this feature, we are definetley not claiming a first ascent. Someone had to have climbed this before! It's just so darn stunning and incredibly obvious...watch for cold temps in the next couple of weeks and give her a go!

Dan on the second pitch of Mclellan's NE Coulior

Photo by Matt Van Biene

Following pitch two

Photo by Matt Van Biene

More amazing ice higher in the cooler

Photo by Dan Hilden

Dan cruising high on the route

Photo by Matt Van Biene

Sunny south side plateau on the way to the summit...the tower in front of us turned out to be a false summit, forcing us back into the shade of the north side for a cool mixed section

Photo by Dan Hilden

Creek Freaks

This past week, Jessica Campbell and I immersed ourselves in the red sandscape of Indian Creek. The Utah desert left it's mark on our limbs, our minds, and even our souls. What a special place.

The Creek!

For seven days we scampered up juniper covered talus cones, branded our hands in burnished splitters, and hardened our soft bodies on rope stretching swaths of ruby red wingate. Jess and I were both as off the couch as we have ever been. We felt weak and a bit out of touch with the stone. With only seven days to climb, I awaited a major beat down. Jess didn't know what to expect as she had only climbed a route or two at The Creek before. Needless to say, 150 foot physical pitches don't allow for easing into the game. The first few days were the bloodiest. The cracks peeled away our soft skin and our muscles cramped. I whipped off an old favorite, cursing the route I used to warm up on years ago. Jessica's ankles shook and swelled. Every move took us further into our pain cave, but also closer to the core of our desire. Our time was short, but we wanted to send a cool line or two. We had to brush away the rust, no matter the torquing cost.

Off the couch and onto the rock on 3 AM Crack (5.10), our first pitch of the trip

By day three I felt my body coming around. Jess started to get a grip on the techniques the parellel cracks of the desert require. We notched up the difficulty and started to dream of something more demanding.

Myself on the super classic, Spark Of The Tempest (5.11+)

Whenever I go on a cragging trip, my primary goal is to find a line or two that really inspires me. A route to dream about as I lay under the stars at night. A wide swath of stone with stellar rock, elegant moves, and a great position. A line I just have to do. On day six I let my inspiration take me to the chains of "Sparking Spurs". Although it wasn't a mega send, 140 feet of solid 5.12 above the wild west moonscape of Indian Creek seemed an effort to be psyched about considering how out of shape I was. Most importantly, I was thankful to be coming out of my injured haze and to be pushing myself on the rock again. Just to have the health to climb is something to recognize and never to take for granted.

A couple shots of Sparking Spurs (5.12)

Jake Tipton on Lone Spark (5.11-) and myself, high on Sparking Spurs

Meanwhile, Jessica proudly dispatched her first leads at The Creek and by the end of our trip was following 5.11+. Of course, the routes I suggested to Jess were all hard and full of difficult sizes. She never complained or wanted to choose routes that better fit her hands or style. I was proud of her good attitude and strong will.

Jessica readies her self for her first lead at The Creek, Run For Your Life (5.10)

Jess leading Wounded Knee (5.10+)

Despite all the great climbing we did during our week in the desert, the highlights were the friends, old and new, who we shared the walls with each day. For me, nothing beats choosing a cliff over black, dusty coffee, spending the day climbing beautiful line after beautiful line, and making burritos with other Creek Freaks as the silver moon rises. To share the joy of our passion with others absolutely has to be the pinnicle of our sport. I can't wait to sink my hands into those splitters again, cheers the day's climbing with warm Tecate, and watch as the Utah sun paints the sending light over each cliff and valley. Man, I can barely wait.

Jess and I on our last day...I don't wanna leave!!

River loved Indian Creek too! Jess and Rivs on a rest day in Canyonlands NP