The purpose of this blog is to chronicle the adventures in rock climbing, mountaineering, rattlesnake rescue, and general crazy endeavors undertaken by a nuclear engineer living in Los Alamos, NM. The first few posts will likely be me playing catch up writing down some trip reports from a few adventures that happened this summer, but after I should be able to get things up pretty soon after they happen.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

First time on ice!

A couple of videos from my first time on ice:

Drytooling in Pueblo Canyon vids.

Here are a couple of videos from my first time drytooling. The route shown in the vids is a dedicated drytooling route that is bolted. The rock is a kind of welded volcanic tuff that is basically crap for regular climbing, but works well for messing around on with sharp bits of metal.

More coming soon!

Well I'm going to be spending the next 2 weeks / 3 weekends in Denver, Co for some conferences. This means I'll be able to do some fun stuff on the weekend without having to drive for 6hrs.... I've also got two trips from the last two weekends to write up. Ice climbing at Lincoln falls on 10/26, Fletcher Mountain on 10/27, and Chief's Head peak on 11/2.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Color Me Crazy: Little Bear Peak, West Ridge Direct (5.4 Free Solo)

Little Bear's West Ridge Direct route will forever go down in my personal history as one of the most epic, exposed, dangerous, and ill-advised climbs I've done. Despite nearly crapping myself on several occasions out of fear, having to retie my shoes in perhaps the worst place possible, braving showers of ice in the Hourglass to repair a severely damaged rope, and sliding out of control down an ice and snow filled gully, this climb was one of the most exciting weekends of my life!

It all began about August 22, when Matt Jerousek made a post in the climbing connections section of asking if anyone was interested in doing the Little Bear - Blanca Traverse sometime in late September. Having made an attempt at the traverse at the beginning of August only to have my climbing partners chicken out after downclimbing from Little Bear, I was all over this. Matt, myself, and Scott Davis decided on a schedule of meeting up Friday, Sep 27th at the start of the Lake Como road, camping Friday night, hiking to Lake Como and scouting out the Northwest face of Little Bear on Saturday, and climbing on Sunday. The hope was that by waiting till the end of September the monsoon season would be over and we would have some awesome climbing before the snows set in. Well we were partly right. I was a tad hesitant about doing a 5th class climb with two complete strangers, but I figured that they probably knew what they were getting into.

Over the course of several weeks we solidified our plans, and watched the weather very closely. Everything was looking amazing until Friday just before we drove down, and the Blanca group was socked in with ominous clouds. I arrived after dark with a last minute addition to the group, my friend Zach Hill from Los Alamos. As we were driving up we could see large storms all around the area and what looked to be some pretty heavy precipitation. Zach managed to snag some amazing pictures near Tres Piedras. 

Fortunately Scott had arrived a few hours earlier and been able to catch a glimpse of Little Bear's north slope which showed more rock than snow. With this promising bit of news and Matt's arrival we introduced ourselves, downed a beer, swapped a few stories, and set up camp as the mercury started to plummet. Boy did it get cold that night. I think the low was somewhere in the upper 20's, but with 30-40 mph winds. Luckily I had brought my 4-season tent, a Coleman Exponent Helios X2, which handled the wind like a boss, barely moving even in the strongest gusts. Zach and I managed to get a fairly decent nights rest in my tent, and Scott slept well in the back of his car.

Matt was looking a little worse for wear in the morning, apparently he had woken up several times during the night to find the roof of his tent in his face... We quickly packed up camp and decided to run into town to grab some coffee and a warm breakfast. Me being me, I realized that I had forgotten my trusty spork and decided to snag some plastic utensils from the local convince store. 

Once back to the TH we loaded up all of our packs into the back of Scott's Toyota Sequoia and set off up the 4WD portion of Lake Como road. Now both Matt and I drive little 2wd hatch-backs, and were expecting to have to hike all the way from the 2wd area to the lake, which is not fun in the least. Luckily for us Scott's vehicle was an absolute beast and kept taking us further and further up the mountain. We ran into several sections that looked pretty dicey and assumed it was time to park the car and go on foot, but Scott kept pushing on. Eventually we reached Jaws 0.5 at about 9800' and Scott decided that it was the end of the line. Matt, Zach, and I didn't care, we were grinning like fools and completely ecstatic about the several miles, and 2000' of elevation gain Scott had just saved us. With light hearts and fresh legs we set off up the rest of the road to Lake Como around 12pm.

Packing up Scott's Car.

Matt adding wheel chocks to Scott's car at 9800'.

Right out of the gate Zach set a fast pace, man can that kid go. While the rest of us were huffing and puffing up the trail Zach went ahead and snagged a few awesome pictures at the stream crossing while waiting for us.

We took a fairly pleasant break before pushing the rest of the way to the lake, which we finally arrived at around 2pm. On the approach we managed to get a good look at Little Bear's NW face, our planned route to the summit and start of the traverse, it did not look promising.

Well we wandered around to the far side of the lake and set up camp in the trees next to a nice stream. With camp all good to go and the bear bags hung, we took off down the trail to scout out our route options. While heading out we ran into a couple of guys who had attempted the NW face earlier that day and been defeated by snow and ice around the "Black Hand", not exactly what we wanted to hear... Well we went up, looked at the face through the binoculars, and decided that it was going to be far to sketchy. The traverse looked clean, but the NW face had a lot of snow on it. 

Now there are really two documented ways up this mountain from Lake Como, The NW Face, and the Hourglass via the West Ridge. The NW face was out, and none of us wanted anything to do with the hourglass. We did know of one relatively undocumented, but possible route up the mountain that looked clean, the West Ridge Direct, which started the same as the route to the Hourglass, but instead of climbing up the Hourglass gully you just hopped up on top of Little Bear's imposing west ridge and stayed there till the top. Basically the only info we had going into it was that it was possible, Zach and I had glanced over a trip report of it before coming up and knew that it was going to be easy 5th class, in the 5.2-5.4 range. We were all strong 5th class climbers and felt our route finding skills were competent enough to see us through. We also figured it would be a good warm-up for the traverse, so we decided that we would take the West Ridge Direct route up, instead of the NW face. We headed back to camp, got a fire going, cooked dinner, and tried to thaw out are frozen toes. 
We hit the sack pretty early and decided on a 6am alarm. I was out like a light and ended up waking up exactly at 6am with a very strong urge to use the restroom. I reluctantly crawled out of my sleeping bag, put on every piece of clothing I had brought, and proceeded to taking care of buisness, but first a breakfast of yogurt, oatmeal, and coffee!

It was cold...
With breakfast complete, we loaded up our daypacks, and set off around 7:30 am. The first obstacal of the day was the 600' gully that leads to the top of Little Bear's west ridge. We donned our microspikes and took off!

Well, everyone but Zach, who didn't have microspikes and was using Scott's spare pare of YakTrax took off... I honestly thought that this gully was much better in the snow than when it is dry, Zach would disagree... You can watch the entire ascent of this gully in the following videos:

With the gully conquered we took a short break to warm our toes, and wait on the couple we saw ascending behind us. When they reached us we told them that the Hourglass sounded like a bad idea and invited them to join us on our adventure up the West Ridge Direct. They were both strong climbers and decided that it sounded like fun! So, now a party of 6 we set off towards the base of Little Bear's prominent west ridge, eyeing the ominous looking route as we approached. 

Once on the ridge proper things got very spicy, very fast. For nearly the entire length of the climb the width of the ridge varied between 4' to less than 1' in width, a serious knife edge. To top it off there was a large amount of 4th and 5th class, with a couple of 5.2 - 5.4 sections. Toss in some snow and wind and you have a recipe for a good time... yeah right...

It didn't take us long to reach our first crux, a 5.4ish chimney with a lot of air below. 

The second crux, a 5.2 slab was only a little further up the ridge.

From here it was more 4th and low 5th class climbing there were a few more difficult moves, but nothing compared to the two crux sections. Eventually as we got to within 200' of the summit we spied some cairns that marked the south-west side of the hourglass route. We angled towards these and stayed on the 3rd class crap that makes up the upper portion of the hourglass. 

Once on the summit we ate a quick snack and snapped a couple of pictures. I replaced the battery in my GoPro and we set off towards the traverse.

Zach and I descending from the summit towards the traverse.
As we moved further down the descent off of Little Bear the route became progressively more sketchy. There was a lot more snow on this side of the summit than the other and it was in all the wrong places. We donned our microspikes and attempted to find a route down with Scott in the lead.

Eventually we all concluded that this was way too dangerous to push our luck. (Think about this in the context of what we just did...) So we decided to turn back and descend through the hourglass, something all of us had hoped to avoid on this trip. On the way back to the summit we managed to get a good look at our ascent route.

I recorded everything from the first time we were at the summit until I was in the hourglass repairing the rope. Here are those videos:

Be sure to check out 16:30 onward of this video. A very large rock came loose.

There was a lot of snow and ice in the hourglass, and the rope had about 4 core shots that Matt and I repaired with alpine butterflies. It took a bit of time for us to all get down the hourglass, but man were we happy when that bit was over.

Well since it is taking me a while to finish this thing up, I'll go ahead and post what I've got and edit it later.

I'll just finish this up with my ill-advised glissade down the final gully:

Thursday, September 26, 2013

I added a few videos to the North Pillar trip report. Here they are if you've already read it:

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Crestone Peak North Pillar (5.8 R, 1000')

Last weekend Dan Reese, Zach Hill, and myself went on an expedition to South Colony Lakes in a bid to climb Crestone Peak and traverse to Crestone Needle. Zach would be taking the standard route while Dan and I ascended either the fabled "India" route, or the North Pillar. We left Los Alamos, NM at noon on Friday, September 20th and started up the South Colony lakes trail around 6pm. Fortunately we brought Zach's 4x4 Toyota and could make it up to the 4WD lot. I've done that hike from the 2WD lot and was happy not to have to hike it again or try and hitch a ride.

Zach set a pretty brutal pace up to the lakes which had me just about dying by the time we arrived at camp 2hrs later at 4.4mi in and 2000' up. We set up camp above treeline between Upper and Lower South Colony lakes, quickly ate some food and hit the sack.

As it turned out setting up camp above treeline that night was a mistake. The wind was howling all night long and there were a few moments where I was afraid that the tent might actually collapse. A couple of times the wind completely caved in half of the tent , but fortunately it sprung right back up when the gust died off. The wind, combined with the stupidly bright full moon resulted in neither Dan nor I getting much sleep that night, Zach says he slept just fine (no idea how...).

Well we ended up waking up at 5am, bundled up in our warmest clothes, at some half frozen bars, and went our separate ways. Zach took off towards Broken Hand pass hoping to pass the line of headlamps we could see making their way up the side of the valley. Dan and I pulled together our climbing gear, donned our harnesses, and set off towards Upper South Colony Lake.

Once at the lake we decided to try and make a final decision about our route, India or the North Pillar. India sounded attractive because it went straight to the East Summit of Crestone Peak, while the North Pillar lets out on the North Buttress, which involves some 5th class down-climbing and an unprotected 4th class slab traverse. I was also worried about snow and ice buildup on the North Buttress and knew that if there was snow on that portion of the climb the summit was basically going to be out of reach. The primary downside to India was the complete lack of beta. I could not find a single trip report and the only beta I had was a paragraph out of Roach and a picture I found on that I wasn't sure I could trust.

Well we sat there on a rock next to Upper South Colony lake and studied the limited beta I had for India and looked at the proposed route through my binoculars. We decided it didn't look too bad and that we would get closer and make a decision then. We took a moment to enjoy the incredible sunrise and started the horrible scree climb to get to the base of India.

The scree climb was horrible, and seemed to never end. We crossed over horribly loose rock, bullet-proof ice, and endless up and down to cross gullies.

As we approached the base of India I was not particularly keen on climbing a route that I had so little information on. I've only been rock climbing for a little over a year, my trad experience is about 3 months, and I've only got about 5 alpine climbs under my belt. I was not confident in my abilities to route find with nearly zero beta. So we decided to go after the North Pillar, which meant more... scree... ugh fml.

Eventually we made it to the base of the Pillar and decided to take a moment to cool off, catch our breath, and enjoy the view of the South Colony basin. 

Looking back at India and Crestone Needle.

Dan got a little warm at the base of the North Pillar.

Looking back at the South Colony Basin as Dan prepares to lead the first pitch.

After a quick break we unpack the rope and gear, suite up and get going on the day's work. We decided to do the climb a little differently than depicted in the topo we got off of Mountain Project, due to the fact that we had a 70m rope and that we didn't want to deal with anymore scree. The route we followed ended up looking like the blue dashed line with the blue circles indicating our belay locations. 

The first pitch we did was much harder than 5.7-5.8, there was definitely a solid 5.9 section that involved some chimney-ish moves. It was scary, but also a lot of fun. The rock was solid for the most part and the climbing was steep. Needless to say that first pitch kinda scared the crap out of me, and I decided that I would let Dan do the leading for today, I was perfectly happy being the pack mule. With the first pitch done we quickly flaked out the rope, exchanged gear, and Dan set off on the next pitch.

Dan basically climbed until there was about 5' of the 70m rope left on my end. Once I was on belay I set off and met him at the top of pitch 2. Pitches 1 and 2 were probably the best pitches I've done in the Crestones, and I've done both Ellingwood Arete and The Prow. Pitch 2 was really fun on solid rock with some decent exposure.

Top of pitch 2. 400' above the ground

Looking towards Crestone Needle from the top of pitch 2.

To get to the top of pitch 3 we actually ended up simul-climbing for about 5', which wasn't too bad. We actually ended up pulling the crux on this pitch without noticing it, definitely a 5.7+ move, not 5.8. Once there I managed to get some great pictures before doing the final roped pitch.

For the last pitch we ran the rope out the full 70m before setting up another anchor. This was probably the loosest roped pitch, but had a few good moments, including a point where I decided to traverse this slab on super thin holds instead of climbing down and then going up the crack, eh whatever I was on top rope.

After we finished the 4th pitch we decided to free solo the last 200-ish feet to the summit. It was mostly 4th class with a few low 5th class moves. The only scary part being what I would like to call the "Hall of Blood" which is a narrow red gully, maybe 3-4' wide with some very large, very loose rocks, that are right in the middle of some 5th class moves. I should have taken pictures, but I was too busy being scared of rocks... A short scramble later we were at the top of the North Pillar, which had a great view of Bear's Playground and the Kit Carson Massif. 

We turned around to look at the remainder of our climb just as a 25+mph gust of wind hit us. 

Needless to say neither of us was keen on climbing that snowy, icy pile of choss or doing an icy 4th class traverse in this kind of wind, so we made the decision to bail and head back to camp via Bear's Playground and the Humboldt Saddle. This turned out to be a much longer and rougher ridge traverse than I had anticipated. Nothing really to exciting, so I'll just leave this with some pretty pictures of the traverse.

Unfortunately we did not summit the Peak, but we did finish a truly awesome climb, with 4 200+ pitches. Great day beautiful weather, minus the dang wind, and a pretty cool ridge traverse. 

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

An "Epic" on "The Prow" of Kit Carson Peak

For my second story I'm going to share the tale of one of my greatest "Epics". Yes "Epic" comes with a capitol "E" and no an "Epic" is not a good thing. From the Wikipedia glossary of climbing terms an "Epic" is defined as:

An ordinary climb rendered difficult by a dangerous combination of weather, injuries, darkness, lack of preparedness or other adverse factors. 

Well that pretty much sums it up, but I don't want to spoil too much from the get go, the story is much better off heard from the beginning. My two climbing partners, call them Jack and Eric (They don't want to talk about these events for some reason.), and I set out from Los Alamos around 2pm on Friday August 9th and arrived at the Crestone Mountain Zen Center around 5pm. I had made arrangements with the owners of the Zen Center via email to park on their property and access the Spanish Creek trailhead via their property.

We left the car with our overnight packs and climbing gear around 6pm and headed up the Spanish Creek trail, which starts at about 8,500'. The plan was to hike in as far as we could before it got dark, setup camp, and wake up at 3am to start the climb. The hike up Spanish creek was somewhat of a pain, involving 5 creek crossings, lots of log-hoping, and some tricky route finding at times. Overall it was a fairly pleasant, if strenous 2hr hike to the start of the burn scar at 10,500' .

We found a nice flat area to set up camp. Jack and Eric used my 2-man tent and I opted for the bivy sac. Dinner consisted of Snickers bars, Starbursts, beef jerky, and tube yogurt after which we all hit the sac hard. We got a pretty decent nights sleep, I slept like a rock in my cozy little bag, and actually managed to get up at 3am. We quickly ate breakfast, geared up, loaded up the daypacks, and were on the trail by 4am.

The start of the technical climb was about 2 miles away and 2,500' up. Unfortunately that trail is really really freaking hard to follow in the dark. At some point we got off route and ended up doing some pretty hard bushwacking through some very thick aspens. At this point I said screw it and made for the treeline.

Eventually we made it out of the scrub and above the treeline. We could see headlamps further down into the valley so we knew we were off-route, but it wasn't too bad and we could see our goal outlined by a faint light on the horizon. Following faint game trails we eventually met up with the people belonging to the headlamps we had seen earlier. They were also climbing the Prow, and knowing that we were going to be a team of 3 and a bit slower, we let them go first.

This is about the point where poor decisions are made. While talking to the other guys they mentioned something about a class 3 approach to the crux pitch. The primary route involves doing 1 roped pitch before the 5.8 crux pitch, and we were hoping that we could avoid roping up until we hit the crux.

Basically were were supposed to rope up and climb the rocks on the right side of the photo. Instead, being complete dumb-asses, we opted to go up to the left... Needless to say we ended up climbing some of the sketchiest, loose, wet, steep rock, we could have found. The route we took felt harder than the crux of the actual climb. Well, we roped up, Jack led, I tied Eric in about 30' above me on my 70m rope and I simul'd behind him. 

There were a few tense moments where my hands were so cold that I couldn't clean gear and had to spend a few minutes working the feeling back into them, be eventually we made it to the crux pitch of The Prow at 9:00am. Jack set up an anchor, I put him on belay, and we started climbing. 

 Jack getting a small boost from Eric on the crux pitch.

At this point I put up the gopro because I didn't want to keep banging it on the rock whenever I looked down. We also wanted to move as quickly as possible which meant minimal picture taking.

I knew that the weather forecast called for the thunder to start around 3pm, which gave us 6hrs to get off of the stupidly exposed Prow. From this point I was expecting us to take about 4hrs to finish the climb, possibly 5hrs if we are moving slower than I would expect.

Well 6hrs later and we are only about 3/4 of the way done with the climb and we can see a massive thunderhead moving in from the west. I told Jack to try and find somewhere that we could hunker down, and at the end of the next pitch he had found a decent sized area with some large fissures that we could squeeze down into to get out of the wind and reduce our exposure a bit. The red circle in the next photo points out where we hunkered down.

Our little shelter at about 13,800' was basically the last place that you want to be in an electrical storm as we were soon about to find out. I was pretty worried by this point and decided that it would be a good time to make sure that some people knew exactly where we were and what kind of situation we were in. First I called my roommate first and told him I would call him back in 4hrs. Next I called my parents just to let them know and see if I could get my dad to feed me weather info via text messages. My 9yr old brother picks up the phone and I ask him where mom and dad are. He has no idea where dad is, but mom is in the bathtub. I tell him I don't care if mom is in the bathtub just get the phone to her.

At this point Jack was outside of his hole trying to switch his climbing shoes for something more comfortable. I had dug a bunch of rocks out of a large fissure and piled them up to make a wind break. I was lying down with my pack on top of me when all of our metal gear starts buzzing and our hair stands on end. Jack dives on top of me and starts yelling for someone to come get us. On top of the lighting it starts snowing... At that exact moment my dad picks up the phone and asks "Hey bud what's up?" I immediately start feeding him information on our location, clothing color, gear, weather situation, etc.  I ask him to relay this information to some kind of authority nearby to try and figure out what our options might be. He gets the county sheriff on the other phone and basically they can't do anything for us. In fact they tell us to "stay away from the tallest trees".

Hearing that statement kinda pissed me off. At this point I realized that we were 100% on our own. No one could help us, if we wanted to get out of this situation alive then we were going to have to make some hard decisions and get our asses moving. We made an attempt to start climbing again but got struck down fast, almost literally. As soon as we stood up our hair stood on end, we heard arcing, smelled ozone, and immediately hit the deck.

Fortunately there was no strike, but at this point neither of my buddies were going to move. I called my dad back and asked him how the weather radar looked. He told me that we would have a 1-2hr window coming up, but after that a bigger storm was going to be moving in. So as I sat there watching the thunderstorm move off to the south I began to consider the fact that there was a very real possibility that I would not make it down from the top of that mountain. My buddies were just about catatonic and I was scared out of my mind, but knew that I couldn't show it.

At that point something in me clicked, I was not going to let that mountain win. No way in hell was I going to become another climbing accident stat. I was going to get myself and my two friends off of that mountain alive. I could still see lightning in the distance, but couldn't hear thunder, good sign. I took a deep breath, stood up, and watched the hair on my arm for a few minutes. When I was satisfied that the thunder gods were not going to fry me I sat down and said, "five minutes and we get moving".

My buddies were very worried, the rock was getting wet from falling snow and we still had a good 200' of 5th class climbing to do. They wanted to do a belayed pitch, to which I responded that we need to haul ass and belaying a pitch will take too long. We had 1 hr to finish and so far we were moving way to slow. They were worried about falling to death, I was far more worried about freezing to death or being struck by lightning, so I forced them to simulclimb.

We simul'd and eventually the steepness lessened and we were on the 4th class traverse to Kit Carson Avenue. At this point it was snowing pretty heavily and I distinctly remember looking down into the white swirling white abyss off to my left and saw three large birds that looked like golden eagles circling in the updraft. ( I think they were eagles, I remember seeing a very yellow beak and they definitely were not vultures or ravens.)

This sight lifted my spirits, and right as I could see the end of the climb the deep rumble of thunder dispelled the illusion of serenity. We booked it off of the traverse and took shelter on Kit Carson Avenue to coil up the rope, eat something, and get ready for the decent down the South Couloir. This was about 7pm and 13,980' elevation. It started snowing heavily as we descended the Couloir and by the time we exited Cole's couloir at around 13,000' all of the rocks were soaking wet and a heavy fog moved in.

I lead our group west through the talus field back towards where we ascended to the base of the Prow. The fog got progressively worse as the sun went down and eventually things got to the point where my glasses were fogging up so bad that I couldn't see more than 2' in front of me. It was getting very cold, all of our ski jackets had wetted through and we were close to soaked. Eric was shivering violently and there were potential pitfalls all around us. I would be walking along loose, steep talus and a headwall or cliff would materialize 5ft in front of me.

Once again we were in a very bad situation. It was dark, the temperature was dropping, we had no shelter, we were wet, we couldn't navigate the treacherous terrain, and we were quickly becoming concerned that the mountain had found another way to potentially end us. I knew that if we continued stumbling around in the dark like we were that someone was going to get hurt. We needed to wait for better conditions and in order to do that we needed shelter....

To be continued...