http://ngadventure.typepad.com/blog/2010/02/readers-choice-adventurer-of-the-year-the-votes-are-in.html

Adventurers of the year.  That’s right.

Three rounds of:
5 laps
7 bleachers with 7 pushups atop each bleacher

Then: Pullup Pyramid to 10 and back down

Totals: 15 laps, 21 bleachers, 147 pushups, 100 pullups

Attendees:
Josh
Kostas
Nate
Roberto
Colin
Dan
Jalo

 

Transportation from Geneva

The absolute best way to get from Geneva to Chamonix is to go to chamexpress.com and spend 25 euro on a van ride directly to where you want to go.  They speak english, and you can schedule a pickup time and place online.

The train is an absolute and total clusterfuck, with transfers by foot, tram, bus, broken fare machines that only take swiss frank coins, and pissy conductors that only take euros.  AVOID at all costs.

The bus is only marginally better than the train.. it only runs twice a day around 8 and 4, costs 35 euro, and makes tons of stops along the way.

The Aiguille du Midi Station

It’s 40 euros for a telepherique ticket that takes up up then back down (on the same date or later), 60 to get to the Torino hut (Italy side) and back and 32 for the “Alpinist Pass” which takes you halfway up (so you can climb a route on the north face of the Midi) then back down from the top.  The first lift up in the morning is at about 7 or 8, and the last one down is at 5:30.

Cosmiques Hut Info

The Cosmiques hut costs 32 euro per night which includes breakfast (50 if you want dinner too).  It’s easy to cook dinner outside on the porch and melt snow to save money… if you really want to save money, bivying downhill from the hut seems to be allowed.  There were usually about 5-6 tents set up down there.

Cosmique hut breakfast consists of: a big bowl of coffee (or hot chocolate), bread butter and jam, cereal and granola, and infinite orange juice (hydrate for free! because water is 5 euros per 1.5 liters!).  Another important note: .75 liters of wine is 13 euros.

The hut has easy access to: the Cosmiquess Arete, the south face of the Midi, the Triangle du Tacul, east face of Tacul (800m ice routes).

Call from town and reserve a bed (buy a phone card from a shop and use pay phones all over town).

City Beta

Coffee: is super expensive in France! like 3.50 euros at a cafe.  That’s $4.94 as of right now.  At McDonald’s it’s 1.80, at a bakery near the Midi Station it’s 80 cents at a machine, but it tastes pretty good.  At Mojos sandwich shop it’s 2.50.

Internet: free wifi at McDonald’s and at a bar by the Les Arolles campground.  There’s an internet cafe with 6 computers at Mojos sandwich shop which charges 10 cents/minute, on the honor system.

Food:  There are a couple of sandwich/burger shops in town ~ 5 euros.  Chambre 9 by the train station has 9 euro awesome tortellini, and 10 euro beer or wine pitchers.

The mountain guide office is by the church and open from 9:15 AM – noon, then from 3 – 6:15 or so.  You can read guidebooks and photocopy them for 20 cents.  There’s a huge diorama of the Mt. Blanc Massif which is good for visualizing routes.  You can ask them about conditions and the’ll tell you if your plan is insane/stupid or not.  The weather is posted outside every day with a 3 day outlook.  Also there are ledgers inside for partner finding and route beta/conditions.

Gear: there are tons of shops with everything.  The Technique Extreme (also known as the Discotheque Extreme) has super cheap prices (maybe stuff is fake?), but it’s close to camp and the Midi station.

Kostas, Scotty, and I chose the Frendo Spur as our first route in the Alps. Of course our “real” goals were the Petit Dru and the Walker Spur, being California hotshot rock technicians and all.

We relaxed in Chamonix, drank $6 Cafe au Lait, asked about the weather at the guide office, and wandered to the North side of town to catch a glimpse of the full 4000 foot North Face of the Aiguille du Midi, trying to figure out what the hell a “Rognon” was. Turns out it is not a French pastry.

In the morning we suited up and got in line at the Aiguille du Midi telepherique station. I ran to a bakery for croissants and coffee while Kostas ran into the bushes to hide a sleeping bag, our sleeping pads, and our rock shoes in a last-minute ditching decision. Since we had already pre-ordained ourselves badasses, we figured we’d style the route in a day and a half, with a potential thunderstorm rolling in the next afternoon.

Up the snow-cones at the base over avalanche debris, a slip and a self-arrest (hey it works!), and roping up through some loose sketchy snow brought us to the first of the rock pitches. The rock was covered in snow, melting ice, and slush.

Hotshot slush-covered rock technicians we are not.

We simuled forever up snow-covered rock, my crampons stayed on the whole time. I remember being halfway up a vertical wide-hands crack, Scotty somewhere above out of sight, Kostas below, the rope tight to both of them. Struggling to get a secure jam in crampons, no way to downclimb without pulling Scotty off, not knowing if there was any pro on the rope (there wasn’t), I just went for it. I may have yelled “DAMN YOU SCOOOTTTYYYY!!”

We caught up to a couple of Brits who slowed us up enough that we just bivied where we were: A small ridge of snow in a notch a few hundred feet before the real bivy site. We stomped the snow ridge flat, used packs and ropes in place of pads, and zipped our two sleeping bags together. Kostas slept in the middle and Scotty and I each got one of his feet. It was awesome.

At midnight a massive serac collapsed to one side of us, sounding like a freight train, a bit unnerving.

We awoke at 5am to a huge gnarly wall of overcast black clouds fast approaching from the horizon. We freaked out and hastily got moving, but the clouds wispily sped past us within an hour. Then the Brits rapped down past us, bailing due to dropped crampons. I did not envy the multi-thousand foot descent ahead of them.

We reached the final snow ridge by 10am, and Kostas immediately suggested we bivy due to avalanche paranoia.

Vetoed, we cast off up the snow-ridge and we were soon able to let our ice-inexperience shine. Memories include a few symbolic belays and an 80-foot-runout, Scotty yelling “watch me!” before going up around a corner over shitty ice. Tense moments as I politely inquired about what he was doing. The response came down, “Do you want me to fucking fall?! I’m going as fast as I can!”. Feet scraping out of the “ice” in shitty aluminum crampons and flexible Trango boots, Scotty out of ice screws, no rock gear in sight and just gunning for it – it was a little bit sketch. Visions of the AP newswire headlines flashed through my head, “3 Americans found dead on the Frendo. No one surprised”.

Another snowfield dodging whizzing face-sized rocks to a final belay where I bonked and scarfed down my sandwich, unable, unwilling, and not caring about tending to the tangled ropes or swapping gear. I laughed as Scotty meticulously racked up, organizing the gear on his harness, wondering why the hell he was doing that. The gear on me was a tangled scrappy mess, and I couldn’t understand why it mattered.

Scotty let out a whoop, and a wave of relief swept over us when he yelled out “off belay”. Then he yelled “belay’s on! Don’t fall, I don’t have an anchor!”

We caught the last cable car with 30 seconds to spare, and 20 minutes later we were sipping coffee and wine in town, eating fancy cheese, staring up at the route. Freaking surreal.

 

Fall in the air,

and the isotherm dropping

A week in New York

full of eating non stopping

Had left the young lads

of which there were two

Yearning for adventure,

be let out the zoo.

So up to the Park, away did they drive

and bivied that night in Gil’s sweet ride

Early they rose, if I recall it was 3

a coffee and a crap and they were off to see

A mountain to climb,

they call it Notchtop

The north face of course,

it sure gets your rocks off

A mixed band Gil lead, to deliver us safely

(if he hadda fallen it woulda been crazy)

Below an ice step which I then ascended

to deliver us at the base of a splendid

Steep little pillar about fifty-five feet

Gil promptly sent it without even a squeak

To the summit plateau we followed a fin

and topped out stretching a big shit eating grin

Back at the car we cele-be-rated

To climbing and poetry,

both will never be dated.

 

7am, and just at the base of the climb with sunset due in 10 hours. “Konstantin, what do you think?” I asked “do we have enough time?” “F-it, we will probably finish in the dark, it’s no big deal, we can bivy if we have to!” (note: that was only his opinion… Robb does not like the idea of unplanned bivies! Finishing in the dark is OK though) (Zardoz says: we had an emergency blanket and our asses are quite hairy, so no big deal-KS) And off Konstantin went up the first 10c pitch of the long intimidating tower above. Grabbing holds with numb fingers, Konstantin quickly worked his way through the first pitch, and I followed with our all too-heavy pack with 2 sets of crampons, 1 ice tool, 2.5 liters of water, food, an emergency blanket, and an extra set of gloves, a thin fleece, my boots and Konstantin’s shoes – honestly not that much, but enough to make climbing for the follower rather more difficult. Konstantin led the first two pitches, and then it was my turn to lead us to the chimney.

We arrived in the chimney around 10.30 or so, and took a quick break to re-organize the gear into two separate packs so we could simul-climb more efficiently over easier terrain until the 2nd tower. Konstantin took the lead again, and off we went arriving at the base of the 2nd tower around 12.30. Here we had a hard time figuring out where the topo was telling us to go, and after a while we decided that a line starting on steep face about 50 feet to the right of where the ridge met the base of the tower. As I enjoyed our only rays of sunshine for the day, Konstantin started up, working toward the ledge that we thought corresponded with the topo, but quickly realized we were off route as the supposed 5.2 terrain felt more like 5.10. Arriving at a small stance 100’ up, he made a nice “manchor” and belayed me up, advising I didn’t try to weight the thing (That was definitely the most exciting part of the trip for me, since I new that our belay station would not even hold the weight of my khram-KS). Arriving below the stance after some steep climbing, with the pack (reconsolidated into 1 large pack again), Konstantin nicely asked for our single number 1 camalot so he could reinforce the anchor before I continued on. After he beefed up the anchor a bit, I took the lead into some more steep and loose terrain above, trying not to fall on any of my shoddy pieces or drop rocks on Konstantin. Whatever I did felt like hard 5.10 or easy 5.11, and turned out to be the hardest pitch of the route for us. Konstantin impressively managed to follow it clean even with the heavy pack, and soon we were back to simul-climbing, trying to make up lost time on the two pitches below (F-n impressive lead, felt at least 11a! As for me following I simply assumed that Robb`s belay is as bad as mine so I woud rather not hang on it-KS). We arrived at the top of the 2nd tower around 15.00, and then made our way as quickly as we could to the first rappel along the ridgeline.
Darkness was fully upon us by the time we reached the “yellow-lichen traverse” at the base of the red tower, and Konstantin re-took the lead while I simuled behind him. From the end of the traverse, it’s supposed to be 600’ of 4th and easy 5th class to the summit*, but due to the intermittent snow patches and darkness, we elected to pitch it out until the end of the climb, where we arrived at 19.00, 12 hours after starting. From the top of the route, we could see two lights of campers far off to the northwest in the valley below, and as the moon had yet to rise, the sky was an amazing dark blackness filled with brilliant stars (I believe this could be hunger and cold induced hallucinations since I did not see any of that shiz-KS). Having finished the route, we decided not to scramble over to the true summit behind us in interest of time, and started to work our way along the ridge towards the down-climb and/or rappel to contact pass. Starting down the wrong chute twice in the pitch-blackness, we eventually found the rappel slings and descended to contact pass.
With crampons and a single ice tool, we made our way down contact pass and traversed towards the base of the climb where we’d left one of our packs on the approach (This is the second best part of the trip since we were sinking in the snow on every other step. Stars started to look brilliant and amazing to me too at this point-KS) The descent was the usual miserably entertaining random post-holing through snow covered giant talus, and we were both happy to make it through without getting too banged up. However, trying to find the rappel in the pitch-black under the moonless sky, and the post-holing through the talus slowed us down considerably, and it was 22.45 before we both made it back to the pack, a few hundred feet below the base of the route. The ¾ moon started to show itself around that time, and guided us back through the rest of the snow and talus to the trail below 3rd lake, where we headed back to the car, arriving there at about 01.10 – a little over 22 hours after starting out, and very happy to dig into our food stash left at the car.
Overall, it was a great day of climbing – not quite the winter conditions we had hoped for, but still pretty chilly (probably mid 30’s in the day, and mid/low 20’s at night), with some good snow slogging, and a fun ascent of one of the big Sierra classics. The rest of the weekend was pretty mellow, spent doing a little work, bouldering with Nate and Kostas in Bishop (great progress by both on Pope’s Prow and High Plains Drifter), and relaxing – including attending a fundraiser organized by the American Alpine Club to raise money for a toilet at the buttermilks boulders, and a slideshow by notable Sierra climber and Dark Star first ascensionist Doug Robinson (who kindly corrected our topos – see Konstantin’s). It was a neat coincidence that Doug was talking this same weekend, and it was quite touching to see some of the pullharder crew’s achievements mentioned in the show. Now… Konstantin and I just need to figure out what our next big Sierra route is going to be! (F#%$, yeah! –KS)

Notes on the Route
Just a few notes on the route. Dark Star is a pretty fun and good route, though there is a lot of easier terrain mixed in with the few harder pitches. If that takes away from the climb for you, try something else, but I think it’s still a lot of fun, and a good satisfying day. It combines covering a lot of ground, some tedious traversing, and some harder climbing – a combination I personally like. It’s a climb to be respected for it’s length, but I don’t think should be as intimidating as some make it. If you’re still interested in it, go out there and give it a shot. If you’re going to, our technical rack worked pretty well, and I think consisted of the following:
1 x blue TCU, 3 x yellow TCU, 1 x red, green and yellow C3’s, 1 x 0.3, 0.4, 0.5, 1, 2, 3 C4’s, 2 x .75 C4’s, a medium rack of nuts, and ~10 draws/slings. The extra finger sized pieces are nice, but if you’re comfortable on this terrain, you could probably trim that down by a few pieces even.

*According to the topo we used taken from Supertopo.com. Upon return I noticed that Peter Croft writes about 2 other variations to the finish in his book, both of which seem to stay more true to the ridge proper.

 

The west face of El Capitan

This time we got to the base of El Cap with enough luggage to support us comfortably on the wall for a few days: a large haul bag, a small food bag, a portaledge for 2, and a poo bag (well, yeah, gotta plan for those things too.) Luke is an expert at the art of planning, and he had orchestrated down to the detail what could happen over the next few days, and packed exactly what we needed — to eat, to drink, to sleep, to keep us warm, and to climb. I felt like an explorer back in the colonial days — with a slew of pieces of luggage made of matching material in train (in this case Durathene). Unfortunately, we were missing the porters.

The plan was to ascend fixed ropes 1/3rd of the way up El Cap to the Hearth ledges, then start climbing from there onwards. (We had already climbed the bottom 1/3rd twice during our last trip and had all pitches dialed.)

Loaded like a sherpa

We loaded ourselves with all our gear, clipped our ascenders into the fixed ropes, and as soon as we started ascending the ropes, reality hit us. This was really, really, heavy. My shoulders were starting to fail — I could not bear the weight I was carrying. So we switched to tying all our bags together one after the other and hauling them with a rope. Luke would go up first with the haul line, then I would join him, and together we would hoist up our gear with a 1-1 system. The lower pitches of the west side of El Cap are not very steep, and the bags were grinding against the granite. I felt like we were dragging up a 20 cubic feet stainless steel Whirlpool refrigerator with built in water fountain and crushed ice dispenser, tied to a king-sized Select Comfort Sleep-Number therapeutic bed — something I convinced myself we would really be happy to have later on, to rest our broken backs on.

We continued that way all afternoon, rope after rope, inching our way up El Cap under an intense November sun, and  reached the ledges right as the sun was setting. We would have to camp there tonight.

As I was climbing up that last rope, Luke called down to me: “We have a night companion!” I slowly reached the top of the rope, and looked left. There, in the golden sunset light sat a young woman on a small ledge, alone, with little more than a sleeping bag by her side. Was the effort already making me hallucinate?

We chatted a little. Her name was Eleanor, and she was up here for a date, but seemed to have been stood up. Hum. Luke and I stared at each other, and decided to scramble up to another ledge 20 feet higher for the night.

On the morning of day 2 Eleanor was still there. She brushed her long dark hair in the early sunshine, packed up her hairbrush and sleeping bag in a small backpack, and silently glided down the ropes into the darkness of the valley. And we headed up to climb some rock!

Our companion for the night, about to zip down into the valley

The climbing started off pretty well: a 5.12 slab traverse with a big swing fall (yippee!), a couple of death chimneys, a few long run-outs on vertiginous terrain – bah, stuff that by our last trip had accustomed us to. Eventually we got to the first pitch that neither of us had climbed before: “The Ear” – a giant ear-shaped flake that you climb by squeezing your body into the bottom of it, wiggling your way up, and (hopefully) coming out of at the top. Other than Luke’s screams of terror and me getting my head jammed for a few minutes, we both got out of it unscathed. That was a fun thrill.

Emerging from The Ear

By now the end of the day was approaching, and we faced our first big challenge: The Monster Offwidth. The Monster Offwidth is a daunting crack about 7 inches wide, spanning 190 feet in height. Stories of it abound in the Yosemite climbing community – stories of fear, of sufferance, of people being brought down to tears, of non-stop battling for over an hour to get up it. The crack is the perfect nightmare: too wide for hands to be of any use, yet too narrow for a human body to fit into it. Climbing it requires solidly wedging your body sideways into it, while somehow figuring out a way to inch your body up – over a total of one hundred and ninety feet.

But of course, I was quite confident. After all, I had conquered 15 foot high offwidths at Mt Woodson; hey, how much harder could this be?

So there I went. I traversed over to the crack, wedged my left side into it, and slowly but surely started inching my way up, walking a Camalot #7 up as I went.

“Hey, this feels okay” I thought; and I continued. I got past the 5.11d section and onto “easier” ground. I continued. I got to the intermediate  anchor, looked at Luke, and we both decided that this was an inelegant place to stop, so I continued. After quite a while I started getting dry and thirsty. I continued. The continuous grinding of my body against the rock started wearing a deep hole in my left shoulder blade. I ignored the pain and I continued. My mouth went pasty and I started becoming dizzy. I continued. Fear caught up with me when I slipped and the cam lobes titled off axis. I shut my mind off, and I continued while Luke talked to me like my personal therapist. The light slowly became orange as the sun started setting. I continued. My breathing was heavy and loud like that of a dying man, my arms were seizing up, and desperation was setting in as the sky darkened. I continued. My body signaled to me that I had reached the end of my energy. I continued.

Wedged in the Monster Offwidth as the sun starts to set

Then, slowly, things started to fade away; I glanced up at the distance I still had to climb – it looked like forever. Beyond that I saw 1400 more feet of sheer vertical rock that we would still have to scale over the next days. I quickly realized that even if I did make this double pitch onsight, my body would be destroyed by fatigue; so I surrendered and dragged myself up the remaining distance by pulling on the cam.

I understood why one climber had described climbing The Monster as being the worst hour and forty minutes of his life.

When I got to the top, two professional Canadian rock climbers — Will and Jason — were there, hanging out for the night on a large ledge. Jason could tell in the dark that I was in bad shape, and handed me a big jug of water saying: “Yup, the Monster will do that to you.” My body had hit exhaustion. That night I shivered even though I was warm, I could not eat, my urine turned completely opaque. I would remain nauseous and weak for the next 36 hours.

We woke up to day 3 on the top of El Cap Spire – a spectacular free-standing column of granite that overlooks the valley. I was still quite sick from the Monster offwidth, and tried with great difficulty to eat a few spoonfuls of oatmeal.

Belaying off of El Cap Spire

Luke started off by climbing a superb 5.11+ crack and immediately had trouble. He was obviously also worn down by the two previous days, and had to battle to get to the top. I was glad: the time was ripe to talk to him. I climbed up to him, and broached the tricky subject of bailing: “we’re both dead; let’s give up and go back down.” Luke looked down at the 2000 feet of rock we had climbed, then looked up at the remaining 1000 feet to be climbed, and brought back the harsh reality: “the fastest way out is… up.” So on we continued.

That day was the toughest for me. I got stuck on the crux of the route – the Teflon Corner – and couldn’t even aid it up. I wedged the smallest brass nut in the flared hairline crack, and it popped. I wedged my nut tool and tried to stand on it, and that popped too. Eventually I climbed to a bush and made an elaborate stick-clip out of several thin twigs and tape from my tape gloves, and it just about was enough to clip the next bolt.

The spectacular finger crack pitch at sunset

We dragged ourselves up pitch after pitch, and finished in the dark right under the great roof – the large overhanging feature that stands on the skyline of El Capitan when seen from the ground. We rapped down 3 pitches to a sloping ledge and set up the portaledge for night #3.

I woke up on day 4 with new found energy! This was the day – I was determined that we were going to make it off this darn wall today. We jugged up the line we had set up the night before in the dark, and off I went on the 5.12 traverse – the last hard rated pitch before the top!

The 5.12 traverse is a spectacular pitch high up on El Capitan that traverses horizontally left and around a corner on a series of grapefruit-size huecos, holes formed in the rock during its formation – a geological anomaly that also contributed to creating the famous A5 traverse on Golden Gate. Below the traverse is nothing — 2800 feet of thin air right to the ground.

I started off the traverse by reaching out far left to the first hueco and letting myself hang off of it. I felt the emptiness below stretch my body; it felt soothing. I closed my eyes and crossed by right hand over to the next hueco. Slowly but surely I continued along on more huecos, making sure to stay calm and concerted. Eventually I reached the last hueco and was left facing a a blank wall to my left, except for a thin horizontal edge about thigh high. I swung my legs and got the tip of my left foot on the edge, and pushed with my right arm as far as I could to try and establish myself on the edge. I desperately palmed all over the left wall like a blind man looking for something to grab on, however tiny it might be, to allow me to establish myself on the tiny edge. My hand caught on a rounded bulge the size of half an English muffin, and as I pulled on it as hard as I could it ripped off and my whole body went swinging backwards. I held on hard with my right arm as I watched the piece of rock tumbling down towards the valley. I caught my calm and tried a different option: standing up high to hold the under-cling on a bulge above me – like the bottom of a Buddha’s belly. But Buddha wanted to play with me and  spat me off: I went tumbling towards the valley after the half-muffin. By then I was pretty far from my previous piece, and around the corner beyond Luke’s sight with plenty of rope to enjoy the fall. What a thrill! I went flying down towards the valley before the rope gently tensioned and swung me back towards the wall.

Finishing the 5.12 traverse pitch

After all that excitement I climbed back up the rope, tried the same thing again, and this time Buddha let me through to the end of the traverse. What a fantastic experience!

After that, somehow all the remaining pitches went by like a breeze: a steep 5.11+ crack, another double-pitch of crazy offwidths, a fantastic finger-sized 5.11+ crack, and a final death chimney — once again expertly lead by “Death Chimney Luke”. The two of us worked together smoothly and efficiently like clockwork, and reached the top without a snag right as the sun started to set. It was fantastic.

The sun bathed all the surrounding peaks around us in a peach-colored light in celebration, while the valley far below was pitch dark. The top – one large dome of granite – welcomed us with arms open: wide, flat, and stable. It felt like we had finally emerged from a long time underwater, and were taking in deep breaths of fresh air.

That night I fell asleep staring at the full moon, mulling over everything we had gone through – a lifetime of adventure. I promised myself that never again I would get involved in something like that. Yet now, not even a week later, I am thinking of when we can go back and how best to work the remaining pitches. Surely it won’t be that bad the next time…

Dusk on the summit

 

We definitely improved, but you’ll have to watch the video to see how much and whether or not any of us actually sent anything.  Sorry this took so long to put up.  We had so many clips to sift through, and this was the first time I’ve ever edited a video myself so it took me FOREVER!!!

(Note:  The music is by Odub, and I found it perfectly fitting for this outing.)

If you’re curious: Pullharder vs Woodson Part I

After the two hard offwidths, it was on to the classic Big Grunt.  Kam was the star of the night, on her first time trying managing to get into the crack in probably under a minute.  It was definitely the fastest I’ve ever seen in the many years of taking people to it.  Go Kam!

With the temps dropping and the mountains covered in snow, hopefully we’ll get back out there after Thanksgiving to match our mettle against Woodson’s Wide again soon!  Next installment, I hope to cut a trail to, and get on, Boulder 13.  We also want to have an instructional for Mother Superior and it’s required Leavittation.

Josh

 

While it’s one of the smallest of the walls I would call a “bigwall,” the Rainbow Wall in Red Rocks regularly sees  multi-day ascents and requires some efficiency and motivation in order to pull it off in a day.  It turned out that two of my good friends, Konstantin and Kostas (I called them “K2″) were going to attempt to free the Original Route, something that I had done back in 2007.  K2 planned to take every “easy” variation which still meant over 10 pitches up to 5.12a with a lot of 5.11.  I did the same thing my first time freeing the line, but this time, I decided to attempt every hard variation, including the 4 pitch Rainbow Country deviation.  This would essentially eliminate any pitch under 5.10 and add 3 5.12 pitches up to 5.12d to an already sustained line.  Yikes!  While it was a lofty goal, my purpose was to test myself and see how I would hold up on a very long hard free route and it certainly did it’s job….

Roberto partnered up with me for his 4th multipitch!  His third, 2 weekends previously was actually the “easy” variations to the Original Route with Luke that K2 planned to do.  Way to jump in head first, my friend!  I knew he had a good attitude and liked to find his limits.  Since he hadn’t fallen once on the 12a Original Route, I figured we could get our asses kicked together!

We met  up with K2 at 4am outside the gate, and started hiking around 4:20am.  Konstantin had an iPod and speaker on the outside of his pack, and we made the 2hr 40min approach in the dark listening to everything from Metallica to crazy Russian propaganda songs.  Of course he was singing along making for some good entertainment along the way.

The sun started to rise after we passed the fixed rope, and soon we were at the base racking up.  K2 started up the 5.11+ variation to the left, and I soloed the first 5.6 pitch and tried to link it into the 5.12b pitch.  Unfortunately, it was cold, I hadn’t warmed up properly, and I read the route wrong.  I clipped the first bolt and ended up dynoing out left to a crimp and essentially swinging under it on one hand and no feet in order to match it.  I felt something funny in my hand, and decided to hang.  I yelled take, lowered to a ledge below, brought Roberto up and inspected the damage.  I’d obviously done something bad to my hand, probably tendon related, but I pulled on some holds and it didn’t seem to hurt too bad so I just said “screw it” and when Roberto got up to me I punched it back into the sequence again.

This time, I pulled it off with some wicked long hard moves and joined Konstantin at the belay.  Kostas was coming up, and instead of stopping I linked into the 5.11+ pitch above to save some time and get above for some good pictures.  I brought Roberto up, who also fell once, but ended up doing what I think is the “correct” way to climb the pitch which is continue up the corner instead of going out left.  I have no idea how hard what I climbed was, but I must say it felt hard…  After he joined me, I fired off the next 5.11a pitch stopping so Roberto could snap some pictures of Konstantin coming up.  He onsighted both 5.11+ pitches in a row which was awesome!

Roberto linked the next two pitches, 5.11a and 5.10, and I ran us up to a ledge at the base of Rainbow Country where the routes diverge.  Here we stopped for a food and drink break.

Roberto had talked quite a bit about how much he liked the look of these pitches two weekends ago, so he ended up leading both of the 5.11b pitches below the crux.  He onsighted both, which was awesome since he’s been leading trad for less than a year.  K2 was traversing easy ledges below us, had finished the first half of the difficulties, and were going strong!

Next up: the 5.12d crux pitch!  I racked up with draws only, since this was reported as a “sport” pitch and headed out.  I made some delicate edgy moves til I was about 30′ up, and then hit the show stopper.  Above was a small leaning arete, which could be potentially liebacked, but there were NO feet to oppose off of.  Just blank, lichen covered, slick sandstone.  I worked my way into delicate, balancy, position, and started cranking like mad.  A few moves into the insanely powerful yet strangely delicate liebacking moves, I pitched off.  This became a theme.  I tried everything.  I pinched the arete trying to switch directions of lieback.  I tried to just go straight up the small arete, ignoring the bolt and holds out right which were obviously the way to go, and nothing worked.  After quite some time of trying and failing, I finally pulled on the bolt to reach a hold way out right, and clipped the next bolt.  I was fried enough and the climbing above was hard enough that I ended up finishing the pitch in a bolt-to-bolt affair, and even had to lower back to the belay to grab a cam since there was a 25+’ runout that included pulling a 5.11ish roof above the last bolt.  I pretty much had my ass handed to me on that pitch.

Roberto made a valiant effort, but was also shutdown on the crux.  It was insane.  Maybe I’m a sissy, but it felt significantly harder than 5.12d.  It could simply be one of those bizarre “aha!” moves where once you figure it out THEN it’s 12d and it’s utterly impossible until then, but who knows.

Even after Roberto quickly worked through the other bizarre moves on the pitch linking wild features I lowered down again for another try.  Roberto had figured out a way to stem and grab the arete from the opposite side and I wanted to try.  I got into position, grabbed the one good pinch on the arete, and was instantly shut down.  At 6′ tall with a positive ape index, I was completely “starfished” on the wall, and couldn’t lift my entire weight using just my left hand on a small pinchy sidepull and  no feet.  I tried a few times, but instead I pulled on the bolt again and linked the rest of the pitch without falling.  K2 was catching up so I quickly headed straight into the traverse that linked back into the Original Route.

The traverse was rated anywhere from 11d to 12b, depending on the source, and it was thin.  Delicate crimps, sidepulls and feet for about 3 moves lead to easier climbing.  It really wasn’t that bad, and in a minute or two I ran up the to the belay under the final hard dihedral pitches on the route.

The next 3 pitches were 11d stemming, 12a liebacking, and then a final hard variation which included entertaining 12b underclinging at chest level.  K2 had caught up to us on the easier territory out right, and were nipping at our heels.  Roberto, being fatigued, told me to lead so we could go a little faster.  I lead out and pulled the hard stemming move above, and ran up the rest of the pitch.  I brought up Roberto who was starting to “bonk” after so much hard climbing, and we stopped to grab some photos of Konstantin as he lead his THIRD 11+ onsight for the day!  He hadn’t fallen yet and was on a ROLL!

As I started up the next 12a pitch, I realized how tired I was.  The moves are straight forward, but sustained.  I was failing to make reaches and having to make multiple attempts at moves, the whole time locked off in a powerful  lieback.  I realized that I was “bonking” too.  AWESOME!  That was what I had come out for.  To push my limits and get a good ass kicking.  I decided to PULL HARDER and finished the pitch without falling.

Once Roberto joined me at the belay, it was getting grim.  We were both exhausted, Roberto had trouble with the last pitch and there was a 12b variation I’d never tried before looming above.  I fished some Trader Joes Cinnamon Almonds out of the pack and ate a few handfulls to replenish the energy stores and drank some water.

While Roberto and I rested, we snapped some more pictures of Konstantin leading the 12a pitch.  The 12a pitch pretty much got everyone to bonk and team K2 finally had trouble with a pitch.  Konstantin was a champion onsighting every pitch up til then, but that pitch took the crazy Russian down.  Swapping leads, Kostas had also been onsighting pitches up into the 11s, but this pitch gave him trouble as well.  However, both our teams were trying routes that were at the farthest reaches of our limits, and loving it!

Eventually, as Konstantin neared, I had to set off to clear out little hanging belay at least a little.  I worked my way up and under the bizarre underclinging crux, and quickly discounted the slopers above as “sucker holds.”  I set off into the short 6-8′ traverse of strangely enjoyable underclinging, and worked my way left toward an obvious jug.  As I neared, I realized I was in a position difficult to get out of and decided to pop for the hold.  As my arm shot out, my feet cut, but I managed to catch myself last second on the hold.  I let out a “Whooooo!”  I had onsighted the final 5.12b pitch, freeing the whole route except the crux pitch (I knew I had the last pitch in the bag).

Roberto fell once here suckered into the slopers above, but quickly dispatched this funky section 2nd try.  Soon he joined me at the belay, grabbed some gear and headed off.  Roberto quickly lead the final 5.10 pitch with a funky roof and I followed him to the summit!  We were done!

We ate, drank, and rested for a while.  We looked for the summit register, but it appeared to be missing, and then we set up our ropes and started rappeling.  Using 2 60m ropes, we quickly rapped the route, and Roberto and I were on the ground before dark!  We waited for K2 for a while, but we had to meet someone in Vegas and they were rapping with a single 60m rope so eventually headed down without Konstantin and his entertaining music…

Sometimes it’s enjoyable to have an easy day moving fast on quality terrain.  Others it’s fun to onsight near your limit.  Our day on the Rainbow Wall was about pushing limits and having a blast.  All four of us fell, and hung, at various points on our ascents, but we pushed ourselves and it was awesome!  We laughed our way up the wall, and kept a good attitude on the way up encouraging each other.  None of us “sent” but sometimes that just doesn’t matter.  Find a partner willing to get in over their head with a smile (safely, hopefully) and I guarantee you’ll have a great day on the rock!  One man’s failure is another man’s success!

(Note: For gear and logistical beta click here)

 

0-3 Metolius TCUs, doubles in the 1 & 2

0.5-2 Camalots

1 Set of nuts, small to medium

9 Slings/QDs

1 60m rope (a 2nd is optional for hauling or faster retreat)

The rack is the same for the Original Route and Rainbow Country.  This rack will allow a 5.11 climber to french free the Original Route and get down.  My first time on the wall, I did just that and went 13 hours car to car.  It was awesome.  This is one of the best routes in the US Southwest and I highly recommend it.  It is safe, fun, and non-commital since you can bail so easily, carry so little, and pull on gear to get through cruxes trivially.  The wall get a lot of shade, facing mostly north, so you don’t need as much water as some other long routes in Red Rocks.

While rappeling this thing with a single 60m is safe and easy, I find that bringing a tagline allows two things:

1.  I can rappel much faster.  One 200′ rappel seems to equal 3 rappels with a single 60m rope multiple times.  You can get down from the summit in about 6 rappels.

2.  I prefer to haul a pack and let my follower have the chance to enjoy themselves on the free climbing.  While this slows things down a little, I feel that everyone has more fun.  The hauling is trivially accomplished with a 8mm tagline by hand (tibloc on a carabiner optional), and the faster rappeling makes up for some of the time lost.

Many pitches can be linked on this, since they are essentially all under 100′.  In fact, almost any two pitches under 5.11+ can be linked on this route, and amazingly enough the tiny rack is enough to link if you know what  you’re doing.

I hope that helped, now get it done!

Josh

(For more approach and rappelling beta click here: Luke did a writeup in his blog from when he and Roberto were up there a few weekends ago)

Sike! HAHAHA

Here’s what I’m going to do: give exact weight specs on the thing as modified by me. This is useful, I think, because it represents what you would do if you wanted to optimize the pack for the same purpose. I’m also going to give a bunch of thoughts and impressions that I’ve acquired after almost 2 years of solid use.

What I wanted in a pack was simple: a streamlined, light, alpine climbing pack. Needs to be big enough to carry stuff in on approaches, and light enough and carry well enough to use while climbing 1-3 day routes. Why Cilogear? Basically because it’s light, and it’s cheaper than McHale, Cold Cold World, and Wild Things (although now that I look at the CCW Chernobyl it seems pretty good… not too expensive).

Here are the modifications I’ve made:

• I cut the bivy pad in half because it doesn’t fold perfectly flat, and created a hinge with duct tape.  I cut a small chunk out of the top so it’s not in the way of my head, but but it’s still tall on the sides near where the straps attach to keep things tight.

• I cut an internal strap out that went from the middle of the back to the top near the lid on the other side. I’m not sure what that was for.

• I removed the shock cord from top of the lid.  It can’t hold a helmet, and is pretty much useless.

• I chopped off sternum strap.  I just don’t like them.

• I’ve never used the plastic framesheet and aluminum flexible thing.  I’ve never found it necessary.

Here are the Weight Specs:

That’s 3.19 pounds total.

I don’t know what the plastic framesheet and aluminum thing weigh, but they are pretty useless anyway.

General Observations:

The pack is narrow with a pretty low profile which is good for climbing. The bottom of the pack is even narrower still with a weird shape, so packing can be kind of weird, but I stuff my sleeping bag down in there so the shape doesn’t matter too much.

The pack carries really well, with everything cinching down tight and staying put.  I think this has a lot to do with the compression straps connecting near the framesheet near where the shoulder and hipbelt straps connect.  Everything moves together as a rigid unit, which feels really good while walking.

It is easily strippable down to a summit pack (weight 2.45 lb as modified by me) by removing the lid, hipbelt, and associated straps.  You could also take out the pad, but I usually like to leave it in so nothing gouges me in the back.  My only complaint is that it’s still kind of big and baggy, though I guess I could try clipping the thing down small like they say you’re supposed to.

I really like the pad and I routinely use it as 1/2 of my bivy pad, taking a half pad (or going without) for the rest.  It’s stiff and thin, but warm enough to sleep on.  The pad compartment is also the hydration compartment, but I’ve never used it, so I can’t comment on it (I always just put a gatorade bottle on some cord on a biner and hang it on my harness or something).  It’s worth pointing out that a 3/4 z-rest can fit into the pad compartment, but it takes up a lot of volume and feels floppy.

The lid is nice and roomy and fits everything I might need to.  The underside pocket seems really light, so I’m not pissed off that it exists, and didn’t go at it with my scalpel.  There are buckle clips on all four corners of the lid, so you can open it backwards, frontwards, or take it off really quickly.

The skirt material seems super thin, but has held up well.  It goes up really high so you can really stuff a lot of stuff in and have a really tall pack.  It’s a bit tight for use as an emergency bivy sack (haven’t actually used it this way).

Specific Features:

One unique feature of this pack is the way that ice tools are attached.  You slide the pick into a pocket and clip the head in place, then cinch some shock cord around the shaft up higher.  This system works and is secure, but the shock cord cincher part broke on one, and also you can’t get a tool out with one hand while wearing the pack, like you can for the Wild Things Andinista, which uses tool tubes, which are nice because you can store your baguette in them.

The other unique feature of this pack is the D clip system, which is supposed to be a super innovative way of being able to quickly and easily clip straps and things all over the place to configure the hell out of the pack.  I find that I just leave the same straps in the same place all the time.  I reconfigure the straps only very rarely when I want to attach something weird.  Normally I just have 2 big straps on one side (for a bivy pad) and 3 small straps on the other side.

The D clips seem kind of loose, but for the most part they are very secure.  I have had one D clip come undone once: it was one of the corners of the lid, so no biggie.  I haven’t really found a way to use the D clips on the back of the pack (maybe some people call this the front? the side that faces backwards away from my back) to hold crampons securely, and there is another D clip between the two tool holders that I’ve never used… maybe I’ll cut these off.

The pack also has an internal pocket on the flap that closes the bivy pad compartment.  I’ve found it extremely useful when I’m going super light and don’t take a lid, for stuffing a few things like gu and a headlamp.

Stuff that sucks a little bit:

The pack doesn’t seem super durable, but for all i’ve put it through it’s holding up pretty well.  I think the only holes are from having some pointy stuff inside and then checking it as luggage.

The waist belt fabric tends to rotate a bit around the padding, which moves the straps so that they rub directly on your hips a bit instead of on the padding.  This isn’t too big a deal, only a tiny bit uncomfortable.

Probably the worst thing about Cilogear is the customer service.  It’s not actually that the customer service is bad, it’s great, it’s just that the whole company seems completely disorganized.  For this pack I paid for fast shipping, got multiple phone calls telling me the pack was on its way, but still nothing showed up.  When I got the pack later I had to return it because it was missing a hip buckle and was torn on the inside.  Everything worked out great in the end, and I got free shipping and everything fixed, but it was a pain to go through.

Here are some trips I’ve taken this pack on, and thoughts I had:

North face of Mt. Langley (trip report):  Hiked in to basecamp with it loaded up.  Stripped it down for the climb.  Felt kinda big on the climb.  I carried bulky stuff because Ben had a bullet pack.

Whitney “If at First” car-to-car (trip report):  Hiked the North fork trail with it, then dropped the lid, belt, some food at the base, and picked it up on the descent.  Worked great.

Frendo Spur: Carried bivy gear for 1-bivy climb, was too freaked out to notice anything about my pack.

Complete North Ridge of Lone Pine Peak in Winter, 29 hour C2C push (trip report): Stripped it down (no lid), went ultra light, worked great.

Northeast Ridge of Lone Pine Peak in Winter (trip report): Wore it for 3 days on the route, chafed my shoulders a bit, possibly due to no sternum strap

I’ve also taken this pack on a lot of random cragging trips.

I plan to use it on everything I do in the forseeable future, and have no immediate plans to buy a new pack.

I thought i’d be more neutral about this pack, but after writing this review I see how well it held up through all the stuff i’ve done.  The lack of any major complaints must mean that it’s doing a great job at what I need it for.

Disclaimer: I paid $170 for this pack with my own money

Needless to say, next time we need to PULL HARDER!

Pullharder vs Woodson: Part II is here!

Ja! Here we go! Lin, excited for the day's climbing.

Getting a later start than we’d hoped, we headed up the trail towards the North Fork of Lone Pine Creek at 03.45. On the way up through the ledges we ran into Anton, Matt and Jasmine who were descending after a 28+ hr. epic on Russell’s Fishhook, ikes! After four and a half hours of hiking we were at the base of the route, having dropped our main packs where we would cross paths with our descent, and by 8.30 were actually climbing. The first pitch went quickly this time up, and it was nice not having to clean out the anchor-crack of brush again, which sped up our start considerably. Lin was still recovering a bit from the hike, so I ended up leading the next pitch as well, taking a 70m pitch to some an uncomfortable stance in the middle of P3. Then Lin took over, getting off route into some run-out 5.10 territory (while listening to rocks whiz by after being knocked-off by climbers above, and a whole rock face give way across the valley). Finding her way safely through this ate up a decent amount of time, and so she handed the lead back to me for the next few pitches – some more run-out 5.8 face, and some fun 5.8 OW/chimney action. The crux 5.10d and 5.10c OW after this was interesting, and I unfortunately popped off pulling the last move of the 5.10c part, but didn’t have time to pull the rope and give it another go. The number 5 and 6 were nice to have here.

After the short crux, I kept going for a while instead of belaying at the sandy alcove right above it (pro in there was funky, and there was a lot of rope left), going only about 40m before rope drag was getting funky. Then I made a belay and Lin started following through the crux. “Up-rope!” she yelled… “um, wait, this ropes tight?! WTF?” I thought. “UP-ROPE!” she yelled again… dangit, it was stuck in the number 6 at the lip of the crux. We tried to pull it and free it somehow, but no dice. Nor could Lin safely get to the cam and free it without a decent fall potential and possibility of pinching the rope under tension…Luckily, the halfpoint of the rope had just come through, so I could rappel down to the #6 with the remaining slack in order to free the rope. With this in mind, I tied off the rope to the anchor using the slack behind the belay device, used a sling to make a prussik on the rope below the belay device, and transferred the weight to the prussik. Then I put the rope through the anchor as if it would be a TR, got ready to rappel down the free end of the rope, untied the backup knot, and rappelled down to the #6 on a counter-weight rappel through the now “TR anchor”. Luckily, although wedged against the rock by the camming lobe, the rope hadn’t gotten pinched, so I freed it and worked my way back to the sandy ledge above the OW. From there I was able to belay Lin through the section as if she was on TR. She was then able to go all the way to the anchors before putting me back on belay and bring me up so I could continue leading.

The rest of the route went pretty smoothly, and we did the 5.9 direct variation instead of the “Fresh Air Traverse” after meeting up with the east face route (and picked up a nice new cam in the process!). We simul-ed some of the upper 5.7 pitches, and then topped out just after dark (a little before 8), climbing the last few 5th class moves by headlamp. My headlamp had turned on in our pack during the climb and was now dead, but luckily I was able to keep it going for the descent by stealing some batteries from my camera (it was too dark for photos anyhow!). Lin and I hung-out, re-hydrating and resting in the summit hut until 20:30 (thank you to whoever left a 3/4 full water-bottle in the hut), and then began the slow descent down the mountaineers route, plagued by weak headlamps (I was glad we had done that just a few weeks before and knew where to go). We finally arrived back at the car about 2 AM, a little more than 22 hrs after starting out, and then commenced the drive back to San Diego for work that same morning. Overall, a really fun and successful weekend!

As for our thoughts on the route – it was fun, but I don’t think I’d recommend it to others, or want to repeat it. I think my comments on summitpost sum it up: ” Did C2C (no aid) with Lin. Honestly, not too impressed by the route. Marginal rock, lot’s of rock fall (a little from the leader, most from those above on the East Face), decent run-outs, and other than the aesthetics of the line from a distance, an uninspiring route. Perhaps I built it up too much in my mind with expectations, but not one I’d recommend to others. If you’re interested in doing it, our rack of doubles in small gear, a set of nuts (including some small ones), a #2 link-cam, singles from 0.5-2 (meant to bring, but forgot the 3), a 5 and a 6 (C4’s), and three mid-sized hexes worked well-enough. Also, a gray alien, red TCU and small nut worked well for the first “thin” belay (which had to have some brush cleaned out of it when I did it).”

(Also to be posted at alaskarobb.blogspot.com)

 

Bitte?

Off we head, up toward Tuolumne, and Mt. Conness with the Southwest Face (Harding Route) being our objective.  Arriving at the parking lot a little after midnight, we sack out next to the car by O-dark thirty.  Some other climbers appear to be doing the same.  Then, up at 4.30, pack gear, have breakfast, and drive to the trailhead.  Start hiking at 05.30, hoping we’re timing things well with sunrise since neither of us know where we’re going, and have heard horror stories of getting lost on the approach.

08.20 – We’re at the top of the east ridge of Conness having been really lucky to get sunrise just when we needed it to see where the trail went, and everything going smooth.  Drop a deuce, and eat a snack.  Get passed by a couple who camped at the lake and… dangit, are also doing the Harding route (Southwest Face).  So, we decide to hang out, and let them get a good start.  Chill-out, check out the approach, drop off packs, rack up, and start descent to the route.

09.30 – Making our way to the base of the route, we looked for the couple that passed us, but they’re nowhere to be seen.  Luke starts up the first pitch.  As he finishes, they arrive.  Despite having been here before, they chose the wrong descent gulley… we just got lucky and now don’t have a party in front of us!.  Luke cruises the first two pitches, running them out to a full 70M.  I follow, and understand why Luke was grumbling about the damp start.

11.20 – My turn to lead.  We’ve arrive at the base of the OW in 2 pitches with the 70, the group behind us is cruising, but will have to do 3 since they’re using a 60.  Start the OW.  WTF? Oh, try right side in… OK, time to go.  Slowly work my way up… Why did I do the week-long pull-up competition at the office last week?? Harding’s bolts are cool looking – short, ringed pins make up the hangars, and star-drives keep them on the rock.  Aesthetic, but I don’t want to fall on them – glad we brought the 6, glad we didn’t bring the 5 (new style C4’s).  Arrive at the ledge, belay Luke up, lead next pitch… again, slowly (why am I climbing so friggin’ slow and tentative today? Step it up Robb, come on, get your head working!).  Is this really a 5.8 chimney?  I hate pull-up competitions.  Then again, I expected this to be much, much, harder.  Luke takes us the last two easy pitches to the top.

15.20 – At the top.  Luke’s dropped the Duggans off, we’ve signed the register, and it’s time to head down. Harding is my hero  – what a fun route.  A soloist from the North Ridge, and a party of 2 from the West ridge join us.  It’s a beautiful day – relaxing, and life is great.

15.30 – At the packs… wait a sec, we might be able to make it back in less than 12 hrs C2C? Nah.. I doubt it.

15.40 – Start the decent down the east ridge.  Smiles abound, life is good.  What an awesome route and perfect day.

16.30 – Hmm…. we’re at the trail again, um… wow, that was a quick decent. 12 hrs afterall?

17.05 – The parking lot? Really, sweet – that was a much more casual day than we expected!  Off to the Whoa-Nellie Deli!

Sitting across the isle from Dean Potter at the Whoa-Nellie (hmm, that guy looks familiar… but why?), we’re both pretty stoked.  The route went down much more easily than we’d expected and was a really fun climb.  Check out Luke’s site for approach beta.  So, now it was time to take a couple hours off Sunday’s drive and head south to Pine Creek…

After sleeping off and on for about 11.5 hrs at Pine Creek, Luke and I headed over to do a little cragging for the day.  Starting out by both leading the Beckey Route (5.10a), an easy sport route with a play on names to the other “Beckey Routes” (and being nothing like them), the morning started off great.  Then we headed to Pratt’s Crack, an awesome 5.9 squeeze chimney.  Luke had first lead, then cleaned it, and I got to go.  An awesome route… it was actually too bad that there were so many features on the arete allowing us to cheat some of the harder part of the OW!  After that we headed over to Sheila, were it was my turn to have first lead again – another 5-star route.  Luke cruised up on follow, carrying up the tag line, and then we called it a weekend and headed back to the car, and San Diego.  Borrowing from Shay’s favourite word – a pretty casual weekend – an awesome weekend actually, of sick off-widthing.

(Also  posted at alaskarobb.blogspot.com – check dreaminvertical.wordpress.com for Luke’s posting).  Thanks Luke for not getting me sick in the end!

 

We jumped in the car Friday at 4:15, battled some traffic, and hit the Whitney Portal around 10pm.  After packing our gear and weighing our packs (Shay clocked in at 38lbs and me at 34lbs and that included 400’ of rope a full rack and a bolt kit between us) we headed up the trail.  An hour and a half later we had blitzkrieged our way up to Lower Boy Scout Lake and we turned right up the hill into our own little paradise 30 minutes from the Whitney climber’s ant trail.  We tossed a tent down in a meadow and were sleeping by 1am.

We woke to an alarm and the sun streaming perfectly through the window of the tent.  We got the stove going and cooked up some oatmeal, which, by the way, Shay swore off forever after this trip.  After breakfast, we packed the climbing gear and started up the hill toward Carillon.  We walked up the valley following a beautiful stream up through another meadow and up a scree field and 30 minutes later we were racking up to climb.

We started up an unclimbed crack between the routes Sweet Carillon and Pipeline.  Shay took the first lead, and with 15’ of simul-climbing he finished his 5.9+ pitch ending on a small stance at the base of a corner.  I joined him, grabbed the rack and headed out.

At the end of the right-facing corner was a 4’ roof with multiple exit options.  I opted for the most direct finish at the top of the corner, which was pulled at a surprisingly easy 5.10a via positive flakes and knobs for feet.  After pulling the roof, I looked up to see endless liebacking above.  I headed out with a relatively meager rack and ended up running it out 20+’ between pieces for the next 140’ of sustained climbing.  There was a crux flare-thrash thrown in for good measure for a nice 195’ 5.10+ pitch that joined with the top of the 2^nd pitch of Pipeline.  I remember thinking all the way up the pitch, “Boy, this would suck to climb with a pack!”  Sucks to be Shay!  After cranking out the moves with only one, “I think I’m going to puke,” Shay joined me at the belay and took off on lead.  I’m sure he was ecstatic to dump the pack for me to lug up the next pitch.

As he headed up his next pitch the weather got worse.  The clouds had slowly been changing from the famous Sierra precursor white puffy clouds to ominous grey unhappiness.  After getting about 150’ into the pitch, the clouds finally did what the weather forecast predicted and started precipitating.  I’d say raining, but it switched from rain to hail to snow for the next hour or so.  Shay rapped back to me, and we did another 200’ rappel and swung to 4^th class territory leaving some slings and biners to be picked up the next day.  Staying with the surfing theme, and having been rained off, we named our new pitches the “Wipeout” Variation.

After rapping off, we sat down during a lull in the weather and ate some lunch on a ledge near the bottom of the cliff.  After that, we stashed the climbing gear under a rock and wandered back down to our tent for a leisurely half day of talking, cooking, and attempting to flatten our lumpy bivy site by bashing the lumps with rocks (see video).  It rained on and off a little that afternoon, and we eventually fell asleep a little after dark.

We woke to a spectacular sunrise and some alpenglow on Carillon, Shay choked down some more of his favorite food, which he swore off even more vehemently, and without packs we were quickly back up to the base of Carillon racking up.  This time we soloed around the first pitch of Pipeline coming in from the right and racked up.  I took the first lead on the 2^nd pitch of Pipeline and enjoyed some great 5.10 stemming up a cool stem box on yet another rope stretching pitch.  Shay grabbed the rack and took us a ropelength higher and I blasted us up to a hanging belay as close to the Pipeline roof as possible for an excellent photo opportunity.

Shay, came up, racked up, and psyched up before cruising the pitch.  It involved liebacking until the roof curved over and then switched to underclinging with feet smearing for the cruxes.  On the first ascent, Shay and Andre had to deal with a lot of exfoliating flakes breaking off and hung on gear, but this time it was clean enough for Shay to send, and me to follow clean as well.  I made sure to take the time to brush off as many flakes as possible while following, so now it is much cleaner after two ascents and is ready for more!

The final climbing is up lower angle blocky territory, and I chose a new path.  I headed about 100’ up a gully to the right before randomly choosing a straight line heading out left which luckily turned into a very pleasant 200+’ 5.6-5.7 handcrack.  We did about 300-400’ of simulclimbing as our final pitch and coiled the ropes to scramble off the back of the formation.

Once on top, we snapped some victory photos and I took some pics of Whitney and Russel from a perspective I’d never seen before, and we headed down.  The descent was actually much easier than I expected with some fun “boot skiing” on scree, and we were at the tent in an hour to pack up and eat the remaining food.  Amazingly, we made it down to the car in about an hour and fifteen minutes from our bivy site for a total of under 3 hours from the summit of the climb, including packing up our campsite!  We grabbed some burgers at the Portal, some gas in Lone Pine, and we were back in San  Diego by 10pm!

Thanks Shay, for letting me join you on such a cool trip!

Josh

 

I immediately replied with a “yes”.

Aerial photo showing the route (image ripped off from summitpost)

"Rest and be Thankful" on the left, "Horizontal Thought Movement" on the right (image ripped off from summitpost)

We hopped in the car late Friday night.  The plan was to crash by the car at the trailhead on Friday night, hike in Saturday, bivy, then rise early on Sunday and do the route.  Somewhere on the drive we realized Monday was Labor day and decided to buy some junk food to supplement the healthy food we’d packed to sustain us another day in case we wanted to climb something else on Monday.  However neither of us were particularly happy with the compromise and the seemingly omnipresent ‘outdoor farts’ which it had recently been discovered were almost certainly the result of eating crappy food.

I got the sense on the drive up that Nate was a little surprised to realize the extent of my Alpine gumbiness — to date I’d never been above 11000 feet or done any real alpine climbing at all (excluding an excursion into Frey in Argentina which I don’t think really counts as Alpine since the rock there isn’t very big) and had never attempted a first ascent of any kind.  It could have developed into one of those situations where he began to doubt the appropriateness of the partner for the task — but that was not to be.  ’Whatever, we’re awesome’ instead seemed to arise as the mutual tacit agreement to banish even the faintest trace of self or partner-doubt deep into the realm of words unspoken.

The trailhead into Tuttle creek is located just outside of Lone Pine on the 395.  You turn at the light as if headed toward Whitney portal, take a left on a road with Meadows in its name, a right on a road with Granite in its name, and follow the dirt road as far as you can.  The road ends at a trailhead that goes into Tuttle creek.  About 30 minutes up the trail, there’s a stone house laboriously built in Tuttle creek by a famous cult leader named Franklin Merrill Wolf in the 1930s (followers of whom still live in the hills nearby).  While pullharder does not require the reading of his works, a working knowledge is strongly encouraged.

We got a leisurely start on Saturday morning at about 7000 ft and began the five or six hour hike up the south fork of Tuttle creek, taking the most direct approach to the North face of Mt. Langley.  The approach trail hugs the hills on the north side of the creek the majority of the time.  We crossed the creek a little beyond the Keyhole wall and then hugged an edge formed where a talus field meets thick growth in what makes for a reasonably easy hike gaining about 4000 ft.  We didn’t have to carry much water as cool refreshing snow melt flows readily down the creek and is easily accessible.  We found a bivy on a rocky overlook near the highest available water,  chowed down on some hot prepackaged food, made some coffee and chilled out for awhile before it got too cold.

We created a tower of avocado/salami bagels for decently high-calorie and high-tasty food on the route.

When 0430 came around the next morning it was still windy and really cold.  I was glad when Nate proposed resetting the alarm for 0500 but half an hour later came too quickly and it was still pretty cold and windy.  We ate breakfast, oatmeal with banana + coffee, scampered down to get some water, and headed off.

We had bivied about an hour from the base of the route and as we hiked up we scouted out our ridge from various angles which seemed sometimes to almost certainly connect to the top and other times to be totally disconnected.  We roshambo’d for first lead, winner goes first.  We tied scissors versus scissors and then I won with paper.  The climb starts after a short scramble at a v-crack.  The left leg looked lower angle while the right went straight up and looked a little more interesting.  I opted for straight up and it was on.  It was still really cold so I left my gloves on to start the climb.  I’d never climbed with gloves before so I thought my finger’s limited tactile sensation came mostly from the gloves.

The climb began to get a little steeper and I tried to grab onto what appeared to be a huge crimp but I couldn’t really feel it.  I pulled the gloves off with my teeth and tried again and realized my fingers had gone numb.  This was a completely new sensation for me on a climb and I wasn’t particularly fond of the feeling.  I opted to jam for awhile instead avoiding the huge crimps and when I got to a good stance I put the gloves in my pocket and warmed my fingers with my breathe.

Nate quickly came up the pitch and began to make his way up the next.  The thin crack in the corner went nowhere so Nate ended up finding a convoluted path that involved some upclimbing, downclimbing, and traversing.  The first two pitches took us almost 2 hours so we started to worry about our progress.

Nate ate a bagel while I climbed the third pitch.  The third pitch was pretty cool, starting in a wide crack/chimney in a corner, and going up to a nice solid hand crack, with a small roof at the exit.  From there, easy climbing goes to a sharp horizontal arete with cool exposure on either side.  Nate arrived and continued on the arete around a corner and heading off out of view.  After a little he called down to start simuling and then we were both climbing.

After what seemed like a lot of simuling, I got to Nate and ate my first bagel.  The next pitch was mine and was a full ropelength of walking across a narrow horizontal walkway.  Nate came over and I headed off again since I still had all the gear up an easy gully until I was stopped by rope drag.

Then Nate was off again and I started simuling again when the rope ran out.  The pitch ended with a 20 ft downclimb into a little slot with a big block on the other side which we weren’t sure connected.  We opted to unrope and traverse around it, climbing easy terrain a few dozen feet above a rocky gulley.  When it got time to rope up again my feet were screaming in pain from my performance rock climbing shoes.  I made some comment to that effect and Nate took the next lead.  I pulled my shoes off as he lead out and the pitch ended up being another super long simul ending beneath a cool looking corner.  Lucky me, it was my turn to lead the next one!

The climbing in the long corner pitch was made interesting by copious amounts of loose rock and crumbly holds.  I worried about knocking something big loose and killing Nate — I thought I managed to pick my way through but I did knock one off that came pretty close to taking him out.

I belayed just above the corner on a nice rock.  Nate came up and immediately fired away again.  It seemed certain the route connected now to the summit and we we’re both a bit surprised to be so close already.

One last simul climb and then another pitch of unroped climbing on solid rock and we were summited.

We hung out on top at 14050 feet for awhile and ate our second bagels.  A few groups reached the summit around the same time as us after coming up the easier way from Old Army pass.

It was my first time up to altitude.  Its obviously a little harder to breathe up there but I didn’t notice any problems other than all the speedy simuling being particularly exhausting.  In my mind, the harder pitches were easier as they gave excuse to breathe a little more often.

In the spirit of Franklin Merrell-Wolff we named the route Horizontal Thought Movement.

Route summary:

• Pitch 1: At the toe of the 2nd major ridge of the North face, climb straight up the right side of a v-crack which becomes an easy fist crack.  Belay on a ledge at the base of a left facing corner.
• Pitch 2: Climb the arete around to the right and up skipping the corner.  Climb up a crack on the right side of a flake, then down the left side, then make a face move or two left to gain a hand crack and go up — belay at a left-facing corner with a large flake leaning against the wall.
• Pitch 3: Go up the corner and gain a hand crack which pulls through a small roof (5.8ish).  Go up easy climbing until you hit a thin arete with a drop off on either side.  Follow a short way along the arete and belay on some blocks.
• Pitch 4: Traverse left around the face and simul climb up until rope drag stops you.
• Pitch 5 & 6: (simul) Traverse along the horizontal ridge, head up an easy low-angle chimney/gully that tabletops on a sandy ledge.
• Pitch 7: (simul) simul climb forever and then downclimb about 20 ft into a small notch at the base of another small headwall.
• Pitch 8: Either climb the headwall or traverse around it, try not to fall into the gulley below
• Pitch 9: (simul) simul climb forever and belay at the base of a huge steep corner, visible from far below.
• Pitch 10: Climb the long 5.8ish corner.  At the top either move left onto the face or undercling overhanging blocks to exit.  (may need to simul a bit)
• Pitch 11: (simul) Simul climb along the ridge forever.
• Pitch 12: Continue simuling or unrope and climb up to the summit on more solid rock.

Descent:

Descend scree forever down the north-east gully.

 

Hiking in on Friday afternoon we were able to chat a bit with Em and the rest of the gang who were going to the Stone House for the Brutus of Wyde Memorial.   The Stone House seemed like a perfect place to have a gathering of all of his friends.

After a few hours of hiking we set up our bivy spot about 45 minutes above the Keyhole wall and planned our approach for the following day.  After departing base camp at 5AM we found ourselves at the base of Langley at 8AM and tried to figure out where to start our route.  We ended up spotting an impressive tower with beautiful Needles-esque lichen on it.  Of course, the rock wasn’t quite as good as the Needles (but then again what is?) but we managed to make our way up 5 pitches of pretty fun climbing ranging from 5.6 to a 5.10b finger crack.

Unfortunately when we arrived at the end of pitch 4 we realized that we had in fact been climbing on a detached tower.  Pitch 5 involved some traversing and a short downclimb and ended in a gully.  Looking up from the gully the climbing did not look appealing and it was unclear whether we would be able to regain a ridge or if there was even a ridge to be gained.   Consequently, we opted to descend the gully and try to climb on the fantastic looking keyhole wall the following day.  We ended up calling the new route on the Langley tower Unstoppable Tower Tango. Silly name, yes, silly adventure perhaps…

Indeed, on Sunday we hopped on the most inspiring line on the face not knowing if it had been climbed or if it would go.  After some spectacular climbing the 2nd pitch ended at a two bolt anchor, as did the 3rd pitch.  Rather than rappelling we opted to top out on the formation and after 5 additional pitches (one of which included a bold lead by Luke involving a hard 5.10 face traverse with little gear or hope) we topped out.

More than anything, this was a good reconnaissance into the S. Fork of Tuttle.  Perhaps in the near future some of our pullharder colleagues can further explore this drainage…

Check out Luke’s blog post for a more thorough description of our experience.

 

Using Strassman’s route description and route photo we easily found the start of the route. The climbing consisted of nice cracks with a lot of steep layback moves on pretty good rock. Unfortunately, we suspect that somewhere in the middle of the climb we went off route only to join back up with it higher on the face. We were led to this conclusion by the “memorable” offwidth that wasn’t mentioned in the route description. Perhaps if Seth reads this, he can provide some input.

After finishing the route we descended toward Iceberg Lake where we stopped to enjoy our AMS symptoms and to study their interaction with dehydration and malnourishment.

Gear: Single set of nuts, double set of cams from blue TCU through #3 camalot, lots of slings.

Also, props to the couple from Tahoe we ran into on the approach and right before the summit. It was their first alpine climb and they were doing the E. Buttress Car-to-Car. Proud.

 

I told him we should just discuss it in the morning…”manyana mang, manyana,” and back to sleep I went.  The next day brad fixed himself up with a nifty webbing harness, not ideal for the family jewels, but good enough to avoid Death.  With that in mind, we headed up to the base of Spearhead and fired off The Barb (III 5.10c). We were able to simulclimb up to the crux pitch, and then simulclimb the remainder of the climb which follows the North Ridge (5.6).

(following the crux pitch)

(gaining the North Ridge of Spearhead)

This climb felt easier than the Spearhead’s other classic route, Sykes Sickle (III 5.9+), which I had climbed last summer with Buster.

(Buster, not feeling so hot on our c2c ascent of Sykes Sickle in Summer 2008)
Brad and I simulclimbed everything up to 5.8, and knocked out the route in about 3 hours.  After a quick lunch down at our bivi site, we decided to head up to the massive wall on Chief’s Head’s Northwest aspect and climb Birds of Fire (IV 5.11a).  By this time, Brad had obviously forgotten about his slumdog harness.  There was a 150 foot steep snowfield at the base of the wall, so I kicked steps with my trail runners and belayed Brad up to the base of the rock wearing his Tevas.  Strong winds, cool shade, and routefinding errors thwarted our afternoon attempt before Brad even made it to the first belay.  We both agreed that we had enough fun for one day, so we decided to call it quits, head back to our bivi site, and drink the beers we had hiked into the backcountry.

(the plush bivi site we moved into after my shitty tent broke in the wind)
The next morning we woke with the sun and after a quick meal, blazed up the boulder field and the steps we kicked to the base of the Chief’s Head.

Birds of Fire is a spectacular bolted (mostly) line up the center of Chief’s Head’s Northwest face.  If you don’t feel comfortable running it out for 25-35 feet on 5.10 slab, you should not climb this route.  Thats not to say I feel comfortable doing such things, but I managed to keep from pooing my pants and/or falling on lead.

(looking down the 1st 2/3 of Birds Of Fire)
Brad held it together on the crux 5.11a pitch.  We hit the route at the sunny stretch of the day, and at the perfect time of the year, because a couple weeks later the sun’s arc will no longer grace  this vertical sea of granite.  High winds made it chilly, but the sun kept things pleasant.  The route climbs for roughly 1100 feet in 8 pitches, and has bolted belays except for pitch 1.  It took us roughly 4.5 hours up and another hour to rappel, which we did using the 60m lead rope and a 60m tag line.

(rappelling Birds Of Fire)
That night we hiked out of the park, all the while talking about what we were going to do next week, when we’d be back with 2 harnesses, more beer, and the beta we needed to SEND.
Fast forward one week…Brad and I hiked into Glacier Gorge in the late afternoon and found a nice “bivi suite” at the base of the Spearhead.  We discussed our plans for the next day over some delicious gulash (dehydrated Idaho mashed potatoes, salami, tuna, avocado, cherry tomatoes, cheese) and beer.  Some inspirational bedtime tunage blasted from my backcountry speakers.  We woke at first light, and after breakfast, skirted around the Gorge to the base of Arrowhead Peak.  Brad started up Ithica (IV 5.12a) and blasted it in 5 pitches, linking the first pitch (5.8X), with the 2nd pitch 5.11a.

The slaby 5.12a crux was not too bad, and the rest of the route featured steep dihedral climbing, often with sparse pro in between vegetated seams.

We scrambled to the summit of Arrowhead and then descended the 3rd class ramp back to the top of the 1st pitch of Refugium (III 5.10a).  I lead the route in 3 pitches, simulclimbing as much as possible.

We then scrambled down to the base of the mountain, and back to our bivi site for a quick lunch.  That afternoon we hiked across the snowfield at the base of The Spearhead and started up Stoned Monkey (III 5.12a).  Stoned Monkey was quite the funky monkey.  We started off by simulclimbing up to the base of a 5.9 corner. I climbed the corner until it petered out, and convinced myself I was off route since all options looked hard and unprotected.  I brought up Brad, who boldly lead out across 25 feet of delicate and steep slabiness with no pro, risking a serious pendulum into the dihedral. he then went straight up to the base of the crux pitch..dun dun dun!.  This was no one move wonder 5.12a, this was a classic Rocky Mountain Finger Seam (RMFS), which went up through dead vertical slab for 40 feet or so.  Brad took a nice whipper somewhere in the middle, and after several more attempts, decided to just aid the pitch for the sake of time.  Luckily I was belaying him on a Gri-Gri, because somewhere along the way, a piece blew, and Brad took a 30 foot upside down fall…oops!  Without hesitating, he jugged back up and aid-monkeyed his way to the top of the pitch and then one more sweet 5.9 pitch to the top of the route.

(Looking down the face of the Spearhead)
Shaken but not stirred, we scrambled back to camp and celebrated like stoned monkeys in the alpine.  It had been a day of vertical rambling to remember.
We woke up around 9 the next morning, refreshed but still beaten up from the 17 pitches on 2 different mountains we had climbed the day before.  After some brief discussion and motavation, we decided on climbing Obviously Four Believers (IV 5.11a).  This turned out to be the best route I have done on the Spearhead, with varied climbing, awesome positions, and in Brad’s words, “the best hand crack in Colorado’s high country.”  That night we hiked out of the gorge and drove the 1 hour back to The Front Range.  All in all, these 2 trips into RMNP set a new standard for summer Alpine rock climbing.   While c2c ascents are good for training, when time is limited, or in winter when conditions are rough, bivis in the high country are far more enjoyable and let you get a lot more climbing done.  If you know the approach, then do it at night to avoid the heat and the summer hikers.  Bring Ibuprofen to supplement the beer and rum.  If you see other climbers/tourists on the way up, tell them you heard (Insert: the route they are thinking of doing) is soaking wet, or that the trail they are hiking on is closed for “Mud Falcon Nesting,” unless of course, the climbers/hikers are attractive members of the opposite sex.  In such an event, simply show them your Khram and offer them the coveted position of camp cook.  If a pesky park ranger should ask you for a bivi permit, tell them all the gear on your back is merely training weight for Gasherbrum XXIV, and if they persist, beat them silly with a rock.

Mont Blanc du Tacul, Gabarrou-Albinoni.  III 4+.  500 m.  “La grande classique de la face E du Mont Blanc du Tacul.”

An alpine route climbed on Monday, March 16, 2009, just in time to sneak into the pullharder.org Winter Club.

-The Approach-

The Gabarrou-Albinoni has been on my partner’s tick list ever since he climbed the adjacent Modica-Noury, III, 5+, 500 m with a guide over a decade ago. He has a mischievous habit of plastering Alta stickers all over Chamonix which I’m sure pisses off the sticklers at the Compagnie du Mont Blanc. I’ll refer to him as Dr. Dan. The guidebook describes the route as “a grand classic couloir on the east face of Mont Blanc du Tacul.”

Climbing the Gabarrou starts with rolling out of bed in the valley for a Chamonix Alpine Start. A quick and painless ride up the Aiguille du Midi telepherique to 3842 meters is the first leg of the lazy man’s approach and leaves an hour ski tour to the base of the route. The Gabarrou itself involves surmounting a bergschrund, several pitches of steep, sugary snow interspersed with mixed steps, more unconsolidated snow, and finally the bread and butter, 4 long pitches of sinker alpine ice. This is where the “route” itself ends, but the actual summit of Mont Blanc du Tacul lies beyond. The objective hazards of topping out and descending from the summit back to your skis deter all but super-alpinists, crazies, Type-3 fun enthusiasts, and those who don’t know any better from continuing on. Most descend the route via sporadic rappel stations along the granite walls of the couloir and some down climbing. What’s left? Oh, a 20ish kilometer ski run down the Vallee Blanche back to town where a fridge full of cold beer awaits – just don’t fall into a crevasse along the way.

My goal for this trip was to ski as much as possible, especially off piste. I got lucky and arrived just in time for a storm and enjoyed a few days of epic powder skiing. Unfortunately, blustery winds followed, scouring the higher elevations, leaving ice and wind slab. We skinned and hiked and searched for good snow but couldn’t find any. Enter Plan B – go climbing.

A little disclaimer: this route was my first journey into true alpine terrain and at heart I’m an armchair mountaineer.

(Dan approaching the route on skis. The route follows the snow ramps clearly visible in the middle of the picture. The snow gives way to ice about halfway up, right where the shadows begin in the image. We tried to be quick, but unfortunately another party was quicker so we spent the morning dodging their debris.)

-The Ascent-

Click out of your skis, strap on your crampons, uncoil the ropes, tie in, grab your tools, kick some steps, and whoa! check out the bergschrund. Dan went first without any fuss. I mumbled: “Please don’t punch through the snow bridge. Please don’t blow a tool and plunge into the crevasse.” Did I sign up for this? As I was about to scratch my way over the lip and belly flop onto the snow ramp above, I caught a glimpse of Dan digging in. A moment later, he graciously pulled the rope taut. If I had slipped, I’m not certain Dan’s belay would have held, but it definitely added a psychological advantage. (Way to jump on the grenade, buddy!) Later on, I decided this was the technical crux of the route.

I didn’t enjoy climbing the snow ramps leading up to the ice. We didn’t bring any snow pickets or rock gear, and I think it’s safer to untie and put the ropes away than to simul without a running belay; suicide rope pacts aren’t for me. Pilot error doesn’t worry me nearly so much as getting knocked off my stance by an errant missile and dragging my partner along for the big ride – or vice versa.

At one point, I looked up, wondering why it was raining snow, just in time to see a rock heading my way. I shifted my hips and it passed between my legs nicking my left inner thigh, uncomfortably close to my junk (my girlfriend was scheduled to arrive the next day). My mouth tasted metallic. Objective hazards scare me. By the time I caught up with Dr. Dan at the first “belay,” I was wet and cold from being showered with snow and feeling a bit edgy. We packed a belay jacket but decided to leave it with the skis at the base of the route. I was cold and wanted to keep moving to stay warm so I grumbled a bit, grabbed the screws and the screamers, and started up the pitch. I’m not very much of an ice climber but the ice was very climbable. My placements felt solid, the shafts of my tools vibrated reassuringly when my picks bit into the ice. Swing, “thwack,” “screech.” I settled into a pleasant rhythm of swing-kick-kick, swing-kick-kick and moved steadily up the pitch.

I can’t see a damn thing without my glasses. I dread placing screws because any time I stop, the fog rolls in, and I hate leading ice while peering over the rims of my glasses, trying to see what I’m swinging at. The ice wasn’t very thick and we only brought a few stubbies, so I didn’t have many screws to place. Problem solved.

(The author leading the first pitch of ice.)

There’s not much to say other than the ice section went smooth. I brought Dr. Dan up, re-racked, and kept on going; he generously gave me the sweet leads.

(Dr. Dan following the first pitch of ice. In a former life, he was an eye surgeon. On his last ice climbing trip, a sliver of ice slipped behind his glacier goggles, poking him in the eye, which scared him enough to buy a helmet with a clear plastic face shield. In preparation for this route, we got drunk on Bavarian malt liquor while he decorated his new helmet with psychedelic mushroom stickers – wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea.)

(Looking up the second pitch of ice. I hugged the left side and was able to catch a quick rest here and there by leaning my back against the rock. It was surreal to be climbing a route in the Alps.)

(Dr. Dan leading the third pitch of ice. I snapped this picture after kicking out a platform to stand on at the belay. The activity kept my mind off the belay jacket we decided to leave at the base of the route.)

(The snow/icey fourth pitch.)

(A view of the Vallee Blanche from our high point. Shadows were already starting to settle over our highway home. After much dabbling in rock, ice, and backcountry skiing, it was nice to put all these skills together to make it happen for a few hours in the mountains. As my Dad is known to say, “Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn sometimes”.)

(Dr. Dan working his way down the rappels. If there’s anything I have a lot of practice at, it’s bailing, so I took over setting up the rappels from here. Nothing like a pair of old pins, a tangle of sun-bleached shoestring, and a rusty quick-link for an anchor. Did I mention the pins were hammered behind rotten flakes?)

-The Descent-

I took myself off rappel, shouted “clear,” and started gently down to my skis. Dan followed and we packed without saying much. The sun was fading fast and we still had to ski the majority of the Vallee Blanche back to town. The light was flat and it was getting colder. Dan skied off and I remember it being very quiet, alone and surrounded entirely by snow, rock, and ice.

Several days ago, we had skied the Vallee Blanche with a group of friends. We stopped for lunch, snapped some pictures, took our time. The visibility was good. There were even some powder stashes, and overall, it was a blast. This time, the visibility was poor, it was icy, and we were carrying packs full of climbing gear. We were in a hurry. I underestimated how burned my legs were from ripping powder laps the week before (not that I was complaining) and how demanding it is to make turns with weight on your back. Dan says he’s skied the Vallee Blanche in 45 minutes and I believe him, but I was in no condition to break any speed records. To lighten my load, he offered to take both ropes. Dan is a salty old dog. I made a dozen turns, waited for my legs to come back, and repeated the sequence, trying to balance the need make the most of the remaining daylight by hurrying against not falling into a crevasse or otherwise getting injured. Dan kept yelling useful shit at me like “WATCH OUT FOR THE BIG CRACK IN THE SNOW BRIDGE,” but I couldn’t hear a fucking thing because my edges were making all sorts of noise grating over the ice. This is how we picked our way down the glacier.

The last 1000 meters involves some serious combat skiing. In the dead of winter when there’s plenty of snow, I’m sure it’s no big deal, especially after-hours. But in late March, most people take the cog train rather than ski back to town. Since we were a little behind schedule, that wasn’t an option. But we made it. Dan had the foresight to park the car close to where the trail spits us out and we skied almost all the way to the car to conclude a fun-filled day of Type-2 fun in the high Alps.

(Being in a hurry, we didn’t stop to snap pictures on our way down so instead, we posed for this one several days later at the terminus of the Argentiere glacier. Born to pull hard, notice Dan’s excellent form. The glacier used to extend much further down into the Chamonix Valley, but thanks to the greenhouse gasses released into the atmosphere by people who, amongst making other poor choices, indulge in air travel to ski, climb, and vacation in distant lands, it’s receded significantly of late. In the background is the first leg of the famous ski tour, the Haute Route.)

We were having some Type-1 fun at the Grands Montets. Dan was up to his old tricks, plastering the Bouchard gondola with Alta stickers. I was up to my knees in fresh powder. The next day, we got another half-meter of hero snow and killed it all day long, followed by beers, bed, and a flight back to the States.

When Matt isn’t climbing in Chamonix, he enjoys skiing the “Best Snow on Earth” in the Wasatch backcountry with his time-share dog, Blue. If anyone wants the rundown on dirt-bagging in Cham, he’s definitely not the one to ask but he’d still be happy to chat you up: llliiil@yahoo.com.

Arriving at the ranger station, we registered for our climb the following day – and found to our amusement that the rangers were still trying to figure out how to enter “through climbers” (those not stopping to camp anywhere) into their system, so they ended up registering us for summit camp – a place we sure didn’t want to end up staying at considering a weather system was due to come in Sunday afternoon and it was going to be quite cold and windy up there.

mvi_1006
In a day you ask? Well, it’s not uncommon for people to go ahead and climb Rainier in a day – though most ascents are 2-3 day trips. We kind of figure why camp and carry a tent though if you don’t have to! I’d be lying if I said there isn’t a trick – “what is it?” you might be thinking? Well, I think everyone has their own little tricks. Some train hard, get acclimated, sleep and eat healthy, but I’ve got a little trick that I’m going to share about big car to car days. What is it? Simple… Cheesecake. Deep dark double-chocolate cheesecake (DDDCC). Greg unfortunately had to rely on the standard training methods for success as he is rather lactose intolerant (don’t get caught sleeping in the back of the same car or tent with him after he’s ingested dairy products), but I made sure to ingest a healthy dose of DDDCC after a parking lot pasta dinner, and another first thing in the morning at 2AM when we woke up for our alpine start. Let me tell you – there’s nothing better to start off an alpine day than DDDCC.

Hitting the trail (5400’) right at 3AM, we saw that our nearly full moon was in inconveniently in the process of setting a couple hours before sunrise. Luckily though, I’d been on the beginning of the trail the year prior in similar snow coverage, and so we quickly made our way to the approximate area of the branch-off where we would head across the lower Nisqually glacier to “the fan”. As we crossed the Nisqually, the sky began to slowly gain some hues of brightness, and the mountain began to take shape in front of us. Behind, Mt. Adam dominated the pink and blue horizon, highlighting a beautiful panorama. Greg and I had lost a little time finding our way off the main Muir trail and onto the Nisqually in the dark, but quickly gained pace as we headed up “the fan” and above – going from only gaining about 1500 feet in the first 2 hours, to averaging 1500+ feet an hour when moving up to the turtle and the Kautz.

Around 4500’ up the route, we encountered a few tents of people camping on the route, and a little higher up as we approached Camp Hazard (~11,300’) we passed some people coming down the route having camped the night before up higher (and maybe having summitted that morning?). Near Camp Hazard there was a fixed line rappel down a small cliff to keep from having to hike up to the ice cliffs and then back down (saving those who used it about 200 vertical feet of scrambling), but detesting fixed lines, and hoping to find some black barrels for our morning “blue bags”, we continued hiking through Camp Hazard to the ice cliffs (sans finding a place to deposit the morning’s business, thus requiring a S)(*&y carryover), hiked down a couple hundred feet below the ice-cliffs, and then traversed over to the ice-pitches of the route.
The two ice pitches of the route were the “money pitches” – the best part of the whole thing. Varying between 50-60 degrees of slightly rotten, but safe, ice, the pitches were not difficult by any means, but were a lot of fun to literally run up using all four spiked appendages, and simul-climb with Greg. Having only a 100’ rope and 6 ice screws, I ran it out about 45-50’ between screw placements trying to keep from having to re-stock gear as much as possible on each “pitch”. Along the sides of the pitches were moderate to huge ice pillars, giant neve penitentes, lining the route and giving it a surreal atmosphere. The also were handy rappel anchors for those descending the route. It was beautiful. On the second pitch we encountered a party rappelling down, and to keep from receiving too much ice-fall from them I went ahead and climbed as fast as I could to get to their side and out of the firing range. Greg and I even managed to climb the entire pitch, with one anchor built to re-supply me with ice-screws, in the time it took them to set-up and do one rappel down the face. We were moving quick, and it felt GREAT.

At the top of the ice section, the climb tapered back off to ~2400’ of slogging up snow-cupped snow. We followed the intermittent tracks working their way up towards the top, and as we crested a rock formation around 13000’ were greeted by some amazingly beautiful, waste to chest high, thin ice flakes which we basically slalomed through to get back on the snow field continuing up the glacier towards the summit. At this point we were maintaining about 1700’ feet per hour as our climbing pace and decided to do our best to reach the summit sub 9 hours. We could feel our legs burning and lungs working hard in the slightly thinner atmosphere, but kept pushing, receiving a boost from the increasing winds at times (luckily travelling up hill), to reach the top in about 9 hours and 18 minutes – not bad for two guys just out for a days fun!

We hung around at the top (14, 410’) briefly as we were getting blown sideways and frozen solid by 80-90 mph winds (the winds on the summit and crater rim were much higher than those just down the slope a bit which were probably only 20-30 mph), got a couple pictures, grabbed another layer, and started descending towards the Disappointment Cleaver.

The Cleaver was really interesting this year in that large seracs, and a huge single crevasse caused the route to be strongly diverted to the climber’s right directly above the cleaver. Last year at a similar time when I was on the route it was able to go straight up the face through where these obstacles now sat. It made for beautiful scenery though to admire on our way down to Muir. Lower down where we dropped into Cathedral Gap within site of camp Muir, the winds which were howling on the upper mountain blasted us like with scree like a sandblaster which made me jealous of Greg’s goggles, but he needed them much more than I as I was travelling directly in front of him and kicking up more rocks and dirt for him to be blasted with.

Arriving at Muir, we finally deposited our blue bags, and had originally planned on making water since we had never added to the 2 liters a piece we started the day with, but feeling lazy we just lounged around for about 30-40 minutes chatting with the climbing ranger and snacking. Finally, we started moving down the Muir snow field, boot skiing as we went, and about an hour later were back at the car with a total car to car (or should I say truck to truck) time of 13 hrs flat. What a great day! Then it was back to Seattle, where we cooked up a steak dinner and drank martinis with my Aunt, Uncle and cousin to finish up. It was, well…. Brilliant. A 9000’ day on ice and snow, and a steak dinner. What more could a guy ask for?!

Nate left for Mongolia and my Norwegian buddies were off climbing, so I was stuck in the campground without a partner. Restless, I hatched a plan to solo the “classical route” on Aiguille de l’M, a 190m 5.7. After an initial recon the day before, I caught the second cable car up and was at the base by 10 AM. I brought gear for rope soloing, but ended up free soloing the whole route and hauling my pack on a couple sections. The climbing was really fun, and I was on top by 11:30. The descent was a little tedious (moraine), but I was back down at the telepherique by 2 PM, just before the skies unleashed. It turns out there is no need for an ice axe or campons on the descent. When I got down my Norwegian buddies were back, so we celebrated by getting drunk.

The ranger mentioned that a party had just finished the route, but reported significant rockfall hazard below thumb rock and thin ice/snow conditions up high – typical poor late season route conditions. Talking it over, Greg and I decided that since we had a week around the area and the weather forecast was good, we would go ahead and jaunt over to check out the route for ourselves. Having not been on this side of the mountain before, we weren’t very certain of approach times, but looking over the map we figured we could make Thumb Rock pretty easily in 1 day if conditions on the route were climbable, and so checked in for Thumb Rock camping on night one (the following night 7/1), climbing the rest of the route the next day, with a possible stop at Camp Shurman the following day (7/2) on the way out if it was getting late. Our goal was for a 2-day climb, but we logged in an extra couple days in case we took longer so that the rangers wouldn’t feel obligated to start search efforts due to our over ambitious planning should we fall behind and not return in time.

Getting up at 0300 on Wednesday (7/1), we finished packing our gear, threw down some food, and headed up from the trailhead (4400’) around 0420. We purposely started slow, letting our muscles warm up for what would hopefully be a long couple days ahead, working our way up the maintained ~3.2 mile trail to Glacier Camp. As we hiked up the trail, the sun began painting the peak in a pink mountain glow as it rose above the horizon. This beautiful mountain glow excited both of us with the trip ahead, and moving up the trail calmed our nerves about the climb ahead. Around 0545-0600ish we arrived at Glacier Camp, and as we rounded the corner into camp, a “trail runner” came bounding down the trail from the toilets above us. We were both confused to see a “trail runner” at that hour of the morning, but stopped at the entrance to the camp so I could go off to use the toilets in hopes of avoiding the infamous “blue bag” carry out system. I ambled the 1/8 mile to the open-air toilets (with side by side seating even for those so inclined to have bathroom buddies), and proceeded to do the morning duties – on the way back, however, I noticed there was a medium-large black bear not far off the trail below. I watched him waddle through the brush for a little while, and then proceeded back to Greg. We re-saddled our packs, and continued through Glacier camp where we encountered the “trail runner” – turns out he had also recently enjoyed doing the morning duties, only to have his session interrupted by a wet bear nose sniffing (and touching) his backside! He took off, slowly at first, and as the bear continued to follow him, he started sprinting down the trail away from said bear. An interesting start to the morning none-the-less, and I was glad I hadn’t been a few minutes earlier to the bathroom facilities.

Greg and I continued to work our way up out of Glacier Camp, up Glacier Basin and to St. Elmo pass. At this point we were starting to cover ground pretty quickly, made our way over the pass to the Winthrop Glacier, tied in, and crossed the glacier using footprints made a day or two prior to show us the way. The Winthrop was in great shape, with a nearly straight shot across it, and we continued to traverse it at around 7400’, then traversed the slopes between is and the Carbon Glacier. Arriving within site of the Carbon, we took a long break to nap, refuel, and watch the goat families walking around the snow fields before continuing on towards the Carbon. Still around 7500’, we encountered a group coming towards us. They were coming straight from the base of Liberty and making their way towards the Emmons route. They had started up two days prior, spending one night at Glacier Camp, and the previous night at the Carbon, and had earlier in the current day tried to attain Liberty Ridge via the melted out rock ridge at its base, and via an ice chute just to the right side, only to be turned back by serious rock and ice-fall hazard. They continued on towards the Emmons, and Greg and I watched the ridge and pondered for a while how “intelligent” we were feeling. In the end though, after listening to repeated rockfall and icefall along the surrounding faces, and thinking to the climbing reports, we decided to head back to the trailhead and try another route later on. Liberty Ridge will continue to be there, but we wouldn’t be if we caught that rockfall head-on – so, it will have to wait until next year…

As we traversed back, we could see the other group of 4 about 30-45 minutes ahead of us… and see them as they turned off the original traverse and started to head up towards Camp Schurman for a go at the Emmons Glacier route. As we approached their track, I began wondering about something a little more audacious – instead of decending and driving around the mountain, why not climb up over the Emmons, go down the Disappointment Cleaver (DC) to meet Adam and my SDMRT buddies coming up that route, than traverse to the Kautz Glacier, and climb that back over, down the Emmons, and return to the car that way. We pondered the idea, going back and forth as we headed across the Glacier… arriving at the split in the tracks where we would either head back to St. Elmo pass or up towards Camp Schurman, I turned uphill – with intentions of heading to Camp Schurman and doing our “up and over twice” plan. We camped at Schurman (~9430’), sleeping in late (until about 0530) on the 2nd, and were the last to leave camp at about 0715 that morning. Even carrying our big packs though, we were averaging well over 1000’ per hour of elevation gain. I could tell I wasn’t in quite the shape I hoped to be though, and I started to wonder if my legs had two more days of carrying full packs, especially on the steep terrain of the Kautz. Proceeding up, we started reeling in a few skiers that had left at the time we woke up. At around 13200’ we passed them, with one complaining of altitude problems (they ended up turning around about 700’ below the summit). At 13700’ we encountered the four guys who had also come from Liberty on their way back down (they started around 0330), chatted for a bit, then continued up the last bit of the climb towards the summit.

About 400-500’ below the summit though, we decided that it would be more fun to go back down the Emmons now, rest a day or two, and make a single-day push on the Kautz. This was in part because we weren’t sure how low we would have to go to traverse to the Kautz, and hauling large packs around just for fun just didn’t sound interesting. So we left our packs about 400’ below the summit, and pushed up to the top, arriving at the 14,410’ summit in about 4 hours and 50 minutes to average just a little better than 1000’ per hour, even with our nice social visit at 13,700’ and carrying our large packs most of the way! Not amazing, but we were happy with it none-the-less.

At the summit we met the skier, Amar, who had left Camp Schurman about 20 minutes ahead of us, and with whom we had been maintaining pace with on the way up. We also met Frankie and Scott who were camping directly on the summit… and Frankie had brought his controllable air-foil kite!! Strangely though, there was nearly no wind on the summit (Greg was in only a long sleeve button-up t-shirt), and so the kite flying was unsuccessful, but fun to watch the attempt. We hung out with Amar, Fankie and Scott for about 45 minutes, then headed down to our packs to brew up some water for the descent. After brewing up about 1.5 liters of water, we shouldered our packs, and started hauling down the nearly 5000’ to Camp Schurman. Along the way we passed a couple other groups, including our 4 friends from Liberty Ridge, covering the whole descent from our packs to Schurman in about 52 minutes. Conditions were ideal for descent, with a soft, wet layer of snow allowing us to basically jog/boot ski down the glacier, minding the occasional snow bridge. Changing socks at Schurman to help save our wet, sweaty, feet from destruction, we chatted with IMG guide Andy Polloczek a bit about the mountain, then continued down, moving fast down the soft snow which was in perfect conditions for descent, and arrived at the trailhead 2.5-3 hours later.
Moving fast towards the trailhead as we were both incredibly thirsty, didn’t want to boil water, and my iodine tablets weren’t dissolving for some strange reason, we headed straight towards the trailhead water fountain. Just on the other side of the fountain was a very large group of ~8 skiers heading up. As we approached them I started having the funny feeling that my friend Kelly was with them (she had mentioned she might be on Rainier this week), and low and behold there she was! We chatted for a bit about mountain conditions and trips, wished them well, and continued out of the park to some well deserved pizza and rest – rest for a what we’re hoping will be a one-day push of the Kautz Glacier (slightly less than 9000’ vertical) on Sunday. And a good rest it’s been so far, at my gracious Aunt and Uncles place with a beautiful view of Lake Washington, double chocolate cheesecake, and a bald eagle perched in a tree outside. Ta an saol go maith… Wish us luck!

Why do I do it, this thing called soloing? What is it that drives me to climb rocks without rope, without protection? Is it ego? Insanity? Ability? Am I just impressionable, a consumer whore of the climbing “rags”, a wannabe Reardon? If I can, why not? Because I could die, or be hideously maimed or crippled if I fail. But that’s not a possibility…. right? If I thought that could happen I wouldn’t do it, or would I? So many questions, and so few answers, as I tie my climbing shoes at the base of Sports Challenge Rock.

—–

I’m in J-Tree for the weekend with a group of mostly beginners, setting up routes and, in general, not climbing at my limit. I have the itch to do something new, unique, or challenging. They are still making breakfast. I’ve already visited some friends in another campground, made afternoon climbing plans, and returned to the group site in Sheep’s Pass because there is an attractive, smart, funny, single woman there that I want to climb with that morning. However, I get bored waiting. The itch is nagging. This is the perfect opportunity. I drove out alone, my regular partners have all bailed for one reason or another this weekend, and this one route has been under my skin for months. As I head for the truck, the woman I met tells me to be safe. “I won’t,” I joke, smiling and laughing. It was a joke right? I solo safely, right? The questions have begun. I get in the truck and head for Real Hidden Valley listening to 92.1, the only radio station that my truck picks up and I listen to bad music all the way there.

I realize that between the caffeine that I’ve ingested and the adrenaline of anticipation I’m feeling quite jittery and decide to warm up and test my self on Betty Jo Yablonski. My first lap up, I’m hesitant at the top, having no recollection of the reachy move. The caffeine has me on edge. I’m not enjoying myself. I finish the highball boulder problem and come back down. I’m thinking this isn’t the day, but I decide to do Betty one more time. This time she’s more enjoyable. The holds are there, the movement is more static and smooth, and I calm as I perfect the movement on the boulder problem. I am ready.

I get down, change shoes, and head for Sports Challenge Rock. There is purpose in my stride, I am on a mission. I wonder if there will be anyone on the route, I try to remember the moves, the cruxes. I focus on the fact that I’ve never fallen on the route despite multiple leads and top ropes over the past few years. As I approach I see a family has scrambled to the top and is on their way down. There are no hikers around in view of the route. Perfect, it’s just me and the climb.

I round the corner and see the route, Clean and Jerk. It is so beautiful. I’ve climbed it many times, but why does my head (or is it my heart?) want me to do it rope less? As I sit, tying my shoes, the questions rage. I pull my laces and look up at the 60’ gently overhung rock above me, my mind running like a hamster in a wheel. Unanswered question after unanswered question. I tie an overhand and look at the uneven rocky terrain beneath the climb. I finish my bunny ears and inspect the only potentially tenuous section 40’ up the climb and wonder what will happen when I get there, not if I’ll fall, but how I will solve the problem. My confidence is building. As I told myself I would, I ask one last time, “Am I ready?” Standing and chalking up, I answer my own rhetorical question. Despite the questions, the lack of understanding, this is something I must do.

I walk over and grab the first holds and focus on not doing a single move I can’t reverse. I throw a foot up into a smear, then the other onto a rail. I rock over my hands, toeing hard to reach the next rail. Above are a series of crimps which seem huge to me this time. I’m focused. I pause 15’ up at the base of the crack. I can reverse what I’ve done easily. I’m ready to proceed. As I reach up for a single lie back move and find my first hand jam I find all questions dropping away. I’m home, I’m in a crack. Jam after jam lead me up the route quickly and efficiently. When I arrive at the tenuous section I pause, work out the most secure way to move up and proceed with ease. The final overhang looms above. I pause in a comfortable pod. Normally it would be a rest, but I’ve climbed so quickly and efficiently, I’m not fatigued in the least. I inspect my surroundings. I see hikers. They see me. We are all experiencing this beautiful park in different ways. I love it here, it is beautiful. This is my last time in J-Tree for the season. It is getting hot and it is time for bigger, larger climbs in the mountains. After a minute I turn back to my climb. I reposition and reach up for the horizontal cracks and knobs above and finish the climb.

On top, I realize the affect the adrenaline had. I’m breathing hard. My body ramped up for me, accommodating me and my goal. I walk down the back. The family that was on top is now on the ground. As I approach, they turn around to see me, hearing me, I’m still breathing hard. I smile. I try to calm myself. It is time to head to Intersection Rock and meet up with the group, with the woman. I think about her, and how I have trouble flirting sometimes. I have the confidence to solo, but not to flirt where there are no tangible consequences. How strange the human mind is.

As I change shoes, I return to the question, “Why?” I don’t know. I’ll probably never know, but it is something I do. It is part of who I am.

We (May, Lin, Robb, and I) had begun the day on April 11th at Rock Hudson out of Hidden Valley Campground in J-tree because Robb was keen on jumping on Hot Rocks. This was my first day climbing outside in months on account of being tied up in lab with work and grant-writing. May and I started the day with 5.7 about 50’+ left of Hot Rocks and things seemed to go well enough. Robb and Lin, meanwhile, had warmed up on the 5.9 just left of Hot Rocks, Looney Tunes. After May and I finished up on the 7 and the other folks had moved off of the 9, I finally found the stones to rack up for Looney Tunes. I was feeling a little apprehensive since I hadn’t been climbing much crack, just mostly bouldering hard in the gym, and had never led a 9 in J-tree onsight. But I promised myself 2 things: I was going to test my limits and I would place less pro than I usually do since I usually throw in too many pieces and flame my forearms pretty well when it’s not necessary due to an unreasonable fear of falling.

The climb starts in a really thin seam with slabby feet that wasn’t too bad. About 15’ up I got to a good stance in a pod and slotted in a small nut above me. The placement was a bit shallow so I decided to climb up a couple more feet where the seam widened to a finger crack and throw in a better, larger nut. Both were placed with an angle of pull downward. From there the climbing continued up a slightly less than vertical crack with intermittent pods and corners that I found quite awkward being somewhat bulky and inflexible. Some stemming and face moves mixed in got me about 10-15’ above my last nut where I placed a green Metolius. While placing I dropped a black Metolius which thankfully only went skidding down the slab to May but really succeeded in pissing me off and throwing off my concentration. From then on, things started going south as I had to hang-dog a bit and just couldn’t find a smooth way through some pods. While hang-dogging, the lower nut (my 1st piece) zippered out on account of the slabby wall. May was comfortably pressed up against the wall and at no point that day did I pull her up despite outweighing her by, conservatively, 70 pounds which is pretty amazing actually.

I finally managed to get past that section and onto some much easier ground right before I thought the crux would be. At a good stance 10-15’ above and to the right of the green, I threw in a red Metolius in a place that I thought would be good enough for what I needed. I figured I’d slot in a piece then climb couple moves to a better stance and placement that was in line with the little bit of climbing left below the chimney at the top. So I put the red in a somewhat shallow but not terribly sketchy part of the crack with the leaves of the cam mostly equally cammed. One was slightly off but not too bad and definitely contacting the wall. If I remember correctly the crack flared a wee bit behind the piece and above it. I can’t remember for sure if I put a quickdraw on the cam or not but I don’t believe I did. I began climbing above it and quickly realized that the crack got much thinner and the corner/pod more awkward. I got into a place where I was maybe 5’ above the red Metolius on good feet but without any pro small enough to slot into the crack: it was ridiculously shallow fingertips for me. I couldn’t downclimb because there was a bulge at my waist that I couldn’t see past so I decided to go for it stemming my feet on the walls of the pod. Well…that didn’t work so well.

My foot blew and as I began to fall onto the red Metolius I could feel the tension in the rope onto my harness. Apparently (I don’t remember), I yelled, “ Whoa (pause) WHOA!” because I felt the piece take my weight and then heard that dreadful sound of metal scraping on rock accompanied with the sudden release of tension that could only signify the popping of my piece. At this time, I remember simultaneously a general feeling of dread and the thought that I was falling for a very long time (Robb estimates it at 40’). I wondered to myself if the green Metolius was close enough to me where I would be caught by the rope because if not, that would be it for me. There was this distinct and puzzling uncertainty about whether or not I’d survive this. And then there were GREEN and PAIN.

When I regained my senses, I realized that I was stuck half in a yucca at the base of the climb and that my harness was killing my back. I was blinded somewhat because my glasses had been wrenched from my face and the swords of the yucca were scraping my helmet and arm. I realized that I had NOT hit the deck and needed to get lowered the last 4-6’ (maybe 8?) because I just wanted to lie down since the pain was profound but that May could no longer see me. So as calmly as I could, I started ordering May to lower me and just repeated it until I had enough slack to lie on the ground.

After that, Robb, Lin, and May essentially conducted a rescue of my sorry self and behaved wonderfully. I truly can’t thank them enough. Robb cleared my spine and I remember that my primary sources of pain were my knee and my back which was really just stiff. I had some cuts and abrasions from that damned yucca as well. They cleaned up and got me the hell out of there and back to SD where I went to the ER. I was diagnosed there with a broken 2nd rib (just below and behind the clavicle), a classic case of masking of injuries, broken probably from hitting the wall with an outstretched arm. My back remains stiff; and one week later, I ended up pulling pieces of yucca out of my forearm (3mm long) and the top of my shoulder (9mm long) that the ER docs should really have picked up.

Almost 7 weeks have passed and I’ve decided to continue climbing despite a fall that forced me to reflect on the purpose of climbing. Ultimately, though, the system and gear all worked because I never did deck. It looks as though the piece blew because it walked a bit. Yet I only made 3 moves above it at the most and all in line with the piece. And though the cam wasn’t 100% well placed, I’d give it a 90-95% which I had thought would be good enough to take a short fall. Obviously not…

I don’t think these people understand that the point is to go climbing, not fuss with your gear all day.

Here’s the anchor setup that I use, and everybody that I climb with uses:

It’s simple, fast, and super light.  It’s a knotted sliding X with a light mammut sling, two Camp Nano 23 biners, and a 39 gram trango superfly locker. Weighs 116 grams total.

Got a third piece?  Clip it in loose somewhere to the anchor or clove hitch the rope to it.  Think you’ll be slinging stuff for anchors?  Take out the knots.

Here it is tripled up:  No bigger or bulkier than a quickdraw.

DONE.  CLIMB ON.

Second, with the exception of the Martha Couloir, and some ice on the south face that is fabled to form once every couple years, the mountain is a rounded pile of shitty rocks and boulders that sits next to the awesomeness that is Longs Peak.

The plan was to solo Martha (WI2-3, M1-2, 5.6), and then run over and solo the North Face of Longs Peak (5.5, m2-3). This would make for a nice long day, with about 5000 ft of gain, and some incredible views to boot. I left my new house in Longmont (about 10 miles north of Boulder, CO) at 4am and arrived at the Longs Peak trailhead around 5am. I was running late since Martha is south facing and my goal was to be off the route by 8am at the latest to avoid ice and rock fall. In order to move faster, I ditched the 7mm tag line and bail gear I had in my pack( 2 x 30ft cordalettes, set of stoppers, 4 loose carabiners, 2 knifeblades), and my snowshoes, which I planned to ditch at a trail junction and use only for the descent through soft snow. All I had left in my pack was my ice tools, a primaloft jacket, helmet, treking pole, harness with ice tool tethers, and some chocolate bars.

When I got above treeline, I was greeted by Colorado’s most infamous mountain dweller…wind. It was pretty heinous and after about 1/2 mile, I turned around, gave up,  and said “fuck it.” I took about ten steps before I proverbially slapped myself in the face and told myself to suck it up and at least hike to the base of the route. Martha starts on the North side of the Longs/Meeker/Lady Washington cirque, and the wind was slightly less terrible, so I decided to start up the couloir, which hopefully would be guarded from the wind since its a deep gash in the mountain. Unfortunately, spindrift and ice balls kept funneling down the chute, and I had to take advantage of the lulls to safely make moves unroped, and shoot some video.

The Couloir proper ended after about 700 feet, and featured 4 distinct cruxes consisting of AI 2-3, and some M1-2 moves. None of the cruxes lasted for more than about 5-7 moves, and were separated by sections of 60 degree neve snow. After the technical sections were behind me, the wind really started to pick up. I turned up my music and went into berserker mode! I topped out Mt. Lady Washington (13, 281ft), at 8am on the dot, 1 hour after starting the climb, in the strongest wind I have ever encountered. Luckily it was blowing in the direction of my descent. I ran down the eastern tallus slopes and hard packed snow and never looked back, lest my eyes be blown out of their sockets. I got back to my van at 9:45am, clocking in at about 4.5 hours c2c.

I turned 30 back in January, but not only was I pathetically out of shape, after a year of travel, but the days are just too short and cold so we decided that it would have to happen in April.  The days would not only be longer, but warmer and we could climb at night, if necessary.  Once we had a general time frame, I started doing research.  I sat down with J-Tree guidebooks, searched www.rockclimbing.com and www.summitpost.com databases and forums, scanned my memory, and did a few investigational forays to J-Tree.  Eventually, the plan started to take shape as I developed an excel spreadsheet which listed climbs, location, difficulty, guidebook page numbers, descents, and random notes.  The fun would take place in Steve’s Canyon, Hidden Valley Campground, and Real Hidden Valley.  The logistics were a pain sometimes.  I had to shuffle the order of climbs around constantly as I learned more about how to get down off certain rocks, or realized that I had to make sure to be on the “Woolseys” mid-day since they’re in a campsite!  By the time the day rolled around, I still hadn’t ever been on at least 7 of the planned routes, and Nate had probably never been on a good half of them, or more.

While devising the list of routes, I also worked on the “rules” governing the fun.  They ended up as the following:

1.  All routes must be 5.10a or harder, no reliable source could rate them lower.
2.  At least one member must lead each route.
3.  Soloing counted, but to count for both we both must solo it.
4.  We must both climb our age, and since Nate is younger, I would solo the difference.
5.  We would do our best to do them clean or redpoint them if we thought it was feasible.

Once I had established a list of 30 planned, and 40 total potential routes, I started brainstorming time saving techniques. Here were a few strategies that we established.  We would climb on a 50m rope.  Since there would be essentially no multi-pitch, all anchors would consist of two good pieces equalized with an equalette.  If an anchor piece was deemed mediocre, we put a third in to maintain safety.  Sitting in a hole at the top of a formation to belay the 2nd was utilized when a gear anchor was going to take more than a few minutes and a good stance was available.  The moment the leader was “safe” (most climbs in J-Tree end on the flat top of a big formation) they yell down.  At that point, it was the follower’s responsibility to prepare everything below, if there was anything to do, then climb until they got to a hard part and wait for a belay.  For formations with multiple routes and a time consuming descent, we would leave a 50m rope for rappel after the first route, and proceed to do the remaining climbs on the formation with a 100’ rope to save time.  Whenever possible, when we were done with a climb or formation with a walk-off/down-climb I would lower Nate or he would rappel and then I’d toss the rope.  This meant that he could be packing the bags while I down-climbed. I would then meet him either at the next climb or the base of the one we just finished.  This worked really well, by the way.  We would wear our loosest climbing shoes, so that we could stay in shoes for hours and not waste time changing shoes.  We had one rope bag, which kept us from almost ever coiling the rope, and a backpack that would be left at the base of climbs with clothes/shoes/food/water/headlamps/whatever.  All gear would remain on us from almost beginning to end, no packing and unpacking.  Essentially, what we did was turn single pitch into a continuous multi-pitch experience, but since we could walk to the base of the next climb we never had to climb with a pack on!  It was quite efficient!

Finally, the day we were supposed to do it (April 11th), I checked the weather and it said cold and windy!  Nooooo!  Not only that, but with perfect weather predicted for Sunday I had already committed to doing trail repair with the Allied Climbers of San Diego (www.alliedclimbers.org)!!!  Looks like we would have to postpone.  However, this turned out to be a boon.  Little did I know, but Nate’s birthday was that following week!  The delay meant one more route of punishment for him, up from 27 to 28!  Yes!  I’m not sure he looked at it as favorably as I did…  I viewed it as a good omen.

As our new day approached, April 25th, I kept tracking the weather on the National Weather Service website noting perfect temp ranges, 50-70 F.  The omen was right!  We took off from San Diego Friday after work, and headed out to crash just outside the park on my friend’s property, which consisted of an empty lot perfect for camping on.  On the way, we figured out that we had enough food for our objective, but not much else.  Nate made the executive decision that we forego buying food for the following night and just crash.  We needed sleep, and if we had to leave the park to find some dinner when we were done, so be it.  We got in around 10pm, set the alarm for 4am, and promptly crashed out with medium winds and a slight chill to the night.  Somehow, my perverted mind had actually devised a plan that required an alpine start for Joshua Tree National Park, the home of convenience climbing and 10 o’clock wakeups…  Awesome.

4am

The alarm went off, Nate and I jumped up, gathered gear, tossed it in the car in the dark, and drove into the park.  The remaining drive went quickly, actually being able to go the speed limit for once, not stuck behind tourons (maybe this alpine start was the way to go!?!).  We rolled into Intersection Rock parking lot around 4:30-4:45 and started eating a hearty breakfast of yogurt and granola while pondering the fact that it was REALLY cold outside relative to what we expected.  The wind was blowing so hard the car was rocking!  Well, with the temps lower than expected, we dragged our feet a little layering and packing the bags and making some peanut butter and honey sandwiches but eventually after borrowing a layer from Nate we left the car and headed out by headlamps into the desert toward Steve’s Canyon around 5:20.

5:30am

Sometime at or after 5:30 we were climbing.  I had racked up at the car and with the headlamp on I blasted Watanobe Wall.  I threw in 3-4 pieces of gear on the lead and finished in what seemed no time.  Nate joined me soon after and we gave each other a high five, “One down!”  This became a ritual for the day.  Next up was Come N Do Me.  By this time there was enough light in the sky that the headlamps were off, as were our beanies since we were already moving fast enough to warm up significantly.  I quickly onsighted the route, moving fast and efficiently, and soon Nate was up there with me.  High five, “Two down!”  I lowered Nate and invented a downclimb that I’m sure few people have ever done, but I had no idea how to get off the rock and it was fast and direct.  By the time I joined Nate he had the rope in the rope bag and everything ready.  We were off to clip some bolts.  I onsighted Elixer and Nate onsighted Amanda and We Never Get the Girls.  At this point, less than an hour had passed, and I realized that we were blasting the routes much quicker than even I had anticipated and we started to take the luxury of pulling out the camera.  The desert was in full bloom and we took a picture of this beauty!

We moved into the center of Steve’s Canyon where Nate onsighted The Orc and then crossed the canyon to both solo Phineas P. Phart.  Nate flashed it solo for our 7th route and declared it “Phineas P. Five Seven!”  I took over the leading again.  I quickly floated Decompensator of Lhasa, which was a surprise since we both remember it being harder, and then I dispatched Grain Surgery.  At this point, we were really cooking and Nate suggested that we alter the plan a little and for our 10th route we add Jumping Jack Crack (5.11a/b) into the mix.  I agreed with a grin, and quickly squirmed the offwidth/squeeze flair that lead to the roof without any big gear since we hadn’t planned on it, and managed to pull the roof.  Nate pulled the crux fingers moves, but somehow managed to grease out of the hand crack.  He wanted to just keep going instead of lowering, so he came up and joined me and we headed over to Sidewinder.  Nate took over the leading for a bit and styled Sidewinder tip toeing the runout ledge quickly and confidently.

At this point, we were wondering if we could finish the entire Steve’s Canyon area and make it for the “climber coffee” that Vic the climbing ranger hosted which I believe lasts from 8-10am.  We couldn’t believe how fast we were moving!  After Sidewinder, we headed over for the back of the formation and Nate onsighted Jack Grit.  Since he was renaming things, he called this one, “The worst climb I’ve Ever Done in J-Tree!”  I have to admit, it’s a bit of a freaking choss pile and I knew it.  I had scoped this one out on one of my preparatory days and was smirking while he thrashed up the sandbagged and sand covered climb.  I was glad I had sunglasses on with the sheer volume of grit that was raining down all over me.  Nate was grumpy for about 10 seconds then got over it in time for another high five and, “Twelve down!” before he rapped and I tossed the rope and started scrambling.

Next stop, Hobbit Roof.  Since I had Nate by 2 years, I soloed this one.  After I finished, we headed into Hidden Valley Campground in the hopes of finding the climber coffee in progress having polished off 13 routes by mid-morning.

10am

We arrived around 9:55, but there was no Vic or coffee in sight, so we just headed to the car dumped all of our warm clothing and ate some peanut butter and honey sandwiches.  We were averaging a climb about every 20 minutes at this point, and were pretty stoked!

We were holding a pattern of 3 leads each, and Nate had lead the last two, so it was still his turn.  Perfect, because I had planned to have him onsight Bearded Cabbage!  He roped up and headed out, a little hesitant at first since it’s an intimidating line.  However, as soon as he started the traverse I knew it was over when he just cut his feet and started campusing.  At the crux he was just casually hanging there and reaching for the crack.  He almost botched the sequence by going into a right hand thumbs down jam, but recovered and became the only person I’ve seen onsight the route!  And he had just done 13 routes 5.10 or harder in the previous 5 hours!  Go Nate!  We left our rope hanging in the rappel rings and I took over blasting Judas and Dandelion before pulling our rope and heading over to the Woolseys!

I headed up Mama Woolsey, which had much worse protection than I remembered at the start, and set an anchor for us to rap on.  I had just finished my three and it was Nate’s turn.  He was out of chalk so he stole my chalk ball and headed out on, “One of the world’s first ‘sport’ bolted routes,” in the blazing sun.  At this point, we were already on climb 18 and it was taking it’s toll on Nate.  He hit the 2nd crux at the 3rd bolt, fell a few times, and lost confidence in his hideously loose Moccasyms that he was trying to do thin edging and smearing in and lowered.  We pulled the rope and I took off.  The crux gave me pause as well, my feet slowly greasing anywhere I tried to smear, but I figured out a high step to an edge and finally got it done and sprinted for the top.  It was pretty hot at this point, and we retreated back to the car with another 5 routes done for another high five and “18 down!”

12pm

We hit the car, grabbed the food bag and some water and headed for the shade under Left Ski Track, our next objective.  If you didn’t count the downtime dropping stuff off at the car earlier and eating sandwiches and talking to a couple of friends, we were still punching out a route every 20 minutes and were more than half way done by noon!  I was feeling great about the fact that we would obviously be done by nightfall, but Nate was starting to get tired.  We ate, joked around keeping our psyche up, and eventually ended up laying in the sun in the parking lot relaxing and talking.  Eventually Nate saw some friends and we talked to them for a while.  I think they were shocked to find out what we had already done that day, and they came to watch when we finally got moving again around 12:40 to climb the Left Ski Track (5.11a).

I’ve done the route numerous times before, but when I did it this time, I was just in a groove.  I hit the holds perfectly and had great body tension and confidence coming off our morning’s success and cruised the cruxes completely statically and blasted for the summit.  Nate followed me up, and since there was a guide and a client on the rappel we had to downclimb the Upper Right Ski Track to save time.  We hit the ledge, scrambled off, and then headed right back up for the summit via the Half Track.  I onsighted it with a little confusion at the very thin crux, and then brought Nate up.  As soon as he got to me, I handed him my remaining gear and he punched for the summit since we couldn’t find a way to rappel from the top of the pitch.  This time the rappel was open and in no time we were on Lower Right Ski Track.  Again, I floated the route statically, which I’ve never done.  It was always a dyno or two in the past, but this time I just locked everything off and floated up route 21 for the day.  High five when Nate joined me, and off to the car to relocate to Real Hidden Valley!

2:15pm

Nate was starting to get tired at this point, and luckily he had a little time to rest.  The age disparity dictated it was time for me to solo again.  We headed over to Sport Challenge Rock and tossed the packs down at the base and looked up to see none other than Randy Vogel finishing up following someone up Clean and Jerk!  For those not in the know, he’s the guidebook author and I believe also a J-Tree Birthday Challenge type guy.  He’s also the one who got the bug under my skin about soloing Clean and Jerk years ago when I saw him walk it in about 2 minutes without a rope.  I dropped the harness and changed into the climbing shoes and headed up just after he finished.  The route went as smoothly as ever on solid holds and jams on the beautiful overhung wall.  I scrambled off and at the packs said hi to Randy and we geared up for Championship Wrestling.  I grabbed the two big pieces from the pack and headed out.  The route was as easy, and cool, as I remembered and was over soon.  Nate came up, rappelled on our gear anchor and I coiled the rope and searched in vain for a good rappel anchor.  There was a nest of webbing around a 4’ x 2’ rock, but I didn’t really want to trust my life to that.  Not wanting to waste time, I committed to down climbing some random feature and I was on the ground and off to meet Nate on the way to the next climb.  We ticked off the first pitch of Ball Bearing and I TR’d Nate up it.  He was really starting to tire, so at this point he put the camera away and stopped taking pictures, struggling for motivation.  We were finished with our 24th route with “only” six to go!

3:50pm

Originally, No Calculators Allowed was on the tick list, but as we pulled the rope we heard some people say there was a group with 5 ropes set up top roping over there..  Nate suggested that I go solo it and he didn’t care if he didn’t make it to 28, but being a good friend I told him that I didn’t want to deal with the crowd.  My real motivation was forcing him to finish what we had started.  It was hard, and I was starting to shut down too, but I was in this with Nate and wanted him to walk away having completed his 28 as well.  Instead, we went in the other direction and I managed to eek an onsight out of Martin Quits.  I threw Nate on belay and then looked down to find him putting his shoes on.  I realized he was so fried he wasn’t focusing on the objective anymore, just reacting to stimulus.  He hadn’t even started getting ready while I was building the anchor.  He did, however flash the route behind me but promptly flopped out on his back as soon as he got to the top.  With the day dragging on, exhaustion setting in and us getting more and more tired, I realized this just wasn’t going to do.  I told Nate I couldn’t do it without him and I needed him to keep plugging away before we crashed even harder.  He immediately jumped back into action and kept it going as strong as he could through the rest of the day.

Next up, Semi Tough.  It’s a thin vertical crack rated 10d that Nate and I both agreed was 11a when we previewed it for our big day.  It was one of my biggest worries with regards to climbing everything clean.  Here I was on the 26th route of the day, exhausted, and it was hard, thin, and in the sun.  I just simply decided that I wouldn’t fall after making it this far, and headed up it.  Somehow I found perfect body positions, made huge reaches between the few good jams and holds, and floated it easily.  It only felt 10d!  Sweet!  I yelled at Nate to try to remember what I was doing because it was working so well and whatever we both tried the first time was so damn terrible.  At the top I threw in an anchor and belayed Nate up in the afternoon sun.  Judging from the lack of tension in the rope, Nate floated the crux!  However, halfway up the route one of my gear placements got in the way of his huge reach for a jug and spit him off when he was deflected by the sling.  After completing 25 routes, he still climbed the route significantly better than when we first got on it.  I definitely chose a good partner.  Nate got to the top and we left our rope as a rappel for the next 3 routes.  I ticked off Pit Bull Attack, which has a damn devious crux, and then headed down into the “Chasm of Doom” as the locals know it, to climb In the Pit.  In the Pit is a sandbagged 10a that’s dead vertical and goes from traversing into an off fingers crack to a leaning flared hand crack.  Not something I’d fall off on a normal day, but I placed more gear on this short little route than many of the 80’ routes earlier that day and barely scraped my way to the top.  High five and, “Twenty Eight!!!!!!”

Route twenty nine, Broken Glass, was supposed to be a “good beginner lead for the grade” so I had written it’s difficulty off despite the fact I had never even seen it.  Nate and I rounded the corner and it looked as innocuous as it sounded when other people described it.  Good crack, feet, and gear.  What else could you want for a 5.10a?  Well, it turned out to be significantly harder than expected.  As the muscles started wearing down, the core went with everything else.  It was surprisingly hard in our exhausted state.  At the top of the route I found myself laid out in a flared leaning crack body smeared with a hand jam not knowing how, or wanting, to move.  It was pathetic to know with a great hand jam there was no way I’d fall, but yet I couldn’t move up until I’d milked this body scum rest for a while.  I thrashed for the final jam and somehow cranked my feet up into the crack.  I was really frazzled.  I remember seeing the top of the formation from the other climbs and thinking I should just sit in a hole and belay, but when I got to the top I wasted about 3 minutes trying to build an awkward anchor in the crack with the gear I had.  Finally, I realized my stupidity and cleaned it all and went and sat down in a good spot, took up the slack, and yelled “Belay is on!”  After Nate came up we rapped off the fixed rope, I tossed it, and did the descent.

Throughout the day, my right knee was getting worse and worse.  It was primarily my challenge, and I knew the park better than Nate, so I was doing all the descents and letting Nate rappel.  Well, I guess my age was showing itself, and on the descent I had a slight limp at this point.  I knew it was nothing serious, but I was still glad to be almost done.

We hiked back to the car, jumped in, and took off for the last climb of the day, Deviate.  Why?  Because at the summit is Geronimo!  Nate had never done Geronimo, an 8’ roof crack rated 5.7, and thought that it was a superfluous pitch and didn’t want to do it in his exhausted state.  I however disagreed.  Rope drag be damned, just so he couldn’t veto me, I ran Deviate and Geronimo together in one pitch!  (It was awesome, but FYI I really don’t recommend this)  Nate was committed, and I sat there laughing my ass off while Nate dangled out the bottom of the massive roof, hands on huge jugs, and said, “What the fuck?” when he figured out how to complete the pitch.  It was a unique and perfect finish to an outstanding day with an amazing partner.  Thanks Nate…  We down climbed to the anchor of Deviate and rappelled to the ground.  I went first and on the 30′ of scramble up to the rope bag and our flip flops, my knee went into complete failure mode and I was severly limping using my hands on rocks until I was back on flatter ground and it decided to somewhat cooperate again.  I was stoked.  We had completed the objective, Nate had climbed 28 and I had done 30.  Somehow, I had made it the entire day no falls, leading 21 routes and soloing 3.  Woohoo!!!

After we finished climbing, we retreated back to the parking lot where our friends Albert and Kara were waiting for us with beers.  We hung out for a while, exhausted but riding a high. Nate and I fully planned on leaving the park for food, but were promised BBQ instead!  Albert and Kara lead the way to Ryan Campground where some friends of friends were camping.  It was a group of mainly international students out on a climbing trip that Albert and Nate knew.  I just sat down exhausted, short on calories, and felt the soreness already creeping into my back.  Immediately, the European hospitality kicked in and one of the French women was offering us beer and food.  We just relaxed and let our brains shut down, hung out with awesome company and were fed chicken, hot dogs, chips, baked potatoes, marshmellows, wine, and even cooked bananas with chocolate!  Best day ever!

 

We arrived late Friday night and crashed in the campground.  On Saturday morning we retrieved our gear and headed up to North Dome to scope some new lines.  Unfortunately a lot of stuff was still wet, but we eventually settled upon an area in the middle of North Dome.  Shay and Konstantine climbed two new 2-pitch crack routes which they named after their girlfriends, Persian Kitty (5.8) and Lizzy Pop (5.8).  Josh and I climbed two new 1 pitch crack routes.  The first one was quite wet, slimy and somewhat miserable, but would be good once it dried out.  Josh named it “Good Oil” (5.9) after the famous Stamatiou olive oil.  Adjacent to Good Oil, Josh cleaned out a nice finger and hand crack which required one bolt at the start.  This one went at about 5.10b and was named “Hot Wine” after the ubiquitous Konstantine concoction, which we also enjoyed while crashing at Phil’s house that night.

Sunday we went and checked out the 5.12+ tips splitter we had spotted/tried on our previous trip.  Josh gave it a good go but ended up bailing.  The obvious implication is that this climb is quite difficult!  I dug out a nice finger crack which I named “Wish You Were Here” and goes at 5.9.  It required one bolt.  You can climb this route to set up a TR on the 5.12+ tips splitter project.  Meanwhile, Shay and Josh went back to the Foolproof Plan area and finished bolting “Greek Salad” ground up.  It goes at about 5.10b/c and has 7 bolts.

 

Stolen in part from one of Shay’s old workouts, with a few extra reps worked in here and there…

The Work-Out

Short warm-up run and stretch.

Four enduro circuits. No resting between exercises, and the stations were timed as a whole. P=G

Circuit One:
5 Laps
50 Box-Jumps
30 Tire-Flips

Circuit Two:
4 Flesh Storms
50 Kettle Swings with 25lb KB
40 Squats with 35lb KB

Circuit Three:
3 Buckets
20 Man-Makers (25 lb)
15 Clean and Jerk (85lb)

Circuit Four:
4 full lengths on the rope side-to-side pull
30 leg throw downs
30 ab-roller
25 sit-ups

A 2 minute Greek Bonus for everyone was added to the end thanks to Brent and Ed RSVPing late. We start at 5PM sharp, every Wednesday.

We were missing some timers, so times may be a bit off or missing for some, but here’s what I’ve got…

Circuit 1       Circuit 2            Circuit 3            Circuit 4
Robb         6.46             9.22 (50 sqts)    11.29                6.55
Brent         6.51             9.24 (50 sqts)    10.25                6.54
Lin            9.28             9.17                   11.29 (65 lb?)    6.26
Eliot          7.52             8.30                   11.40 (75 lb?)    5.50
Hesh         9.30             10                       7                      6
Ed             10                11                      8.30                  6
Shayda       ?                   ?                        ?                       ?
Konstantin  ?                  ?                        ?                       ?
Alex – Rocking his own circuit with bandaged hands… GO ALEX!

 

Friday, on the verge of departure, my friend Phil (the King’s Canyon local) informed me that the road to King’s Canyon was still closed for the season due to rockfall.  Bummer.  Regrouping in Shay and Nate’s living room, we batted around ideas.  Tuttle Creek? Domelands? Joshua Tree?  We all agreed that we wanted to do a first ascent.  In particular, Nate was chomping at the bit to hand drill a bolt on lead, ideally from a shitty, runout stance.  In a flash of inspiration, I suggested a kluge: since the road to King’s Canyon was closed due to rockfall, not snow, we should simply drive as far as possible, and then ride bikes the rest of the distance in.  Since the road was still closed this would guarantee the entire canyon to ourselves, a totally unique and awesome experience!  I called Phil and asked his thoughts on the proposal.  He estimated the ride in to be about 10-15 miles, and did mention something about “a big hill”, which was maybe 1000 feet of elevation gain.

After borrowing a bike from Kostas, we made the long drive up to King’s Canyon (~7 hours from SD).   Cresting over a rise at about 6000 feet elevation we suddenly slammed on the brakes — and found ourselves face to face with a “Road Closed” sign and a locked gate.  A sign said we were 30 miles from King’s Canyon, and our current elevation implied the “big hill” was not 1000 feet high, but actually 3000 feet!  I think the phrase “damn you, Scotty!” may have been uttered as we crawled into our sleeping bags for the night.

The next morning we discussed our plans over breakfast down the road at the Hume Lake Christian Camp, where due to a tactical error we missed out on crashing a free breakfast with ~400 young women.  At about 10 AM we shouldered our ~50 pound packs and saddled our bikes.  As we glid down the 9 mile, 3000 foot hill the mantra of “damn you Scotty” quickly dissipated, replaced now with joyful praises such as “best plan ever!”, “this is genius”, “#1 approach of all time”, etc etc etc.   About 10 miles down we hit Boyden Caverns where we stopped to chat with the proprietors, who informed us that on Monday Caltrans was blasting the big boulder that had fallen in the road, and we would possibly be trapped in the canyon.  Hmmmm.

And then we hit uphill.  The 15 mile uphill that leads back into the canyon, while not excessively steep, was relentless.  Toiling under the weight of our heavy packs, the reality of just how fucked we were began to set in.   Nevertheless we perservered, and about 4 or 5 grueling hours later we collapsed into camp, totally exhausted and our taints quite bruised from the weight of the heavy packs.   A feeble attempt to go climbing resulted in a failed attempt on a new line, and we retreated back to camp to rest and recover.

Sunday turned out to be a fantastic day of rock climbing.  Mind you we had the ENTIRE canyon to ourselves – very cool.  We checked out a wall we had spied from the previous day’s attempt, and ended up FA’ing a 3 pitch 5.9 route which follows a nice crack system (topo here).  After lunch Nate and Shay took turns hand drilling a new route on lead, old school style.   I set up a toprope on what ended up being an absolutely fantastic 5.11a face route.   Overall we had an excellent day doing exactly what we had come for.

On Monday we faced the long ride out, and the threat of being trapped forever by the Caltrans blasting loomed over us.    At this point we made a strategic decision to cache most of our gear, which greatly reduced the burden of the ride out.  Still 3000 feet of gain and 30 miles miles is no joke.  The highlights of the ride out were the abandoned “drug car” we found (apparently abandoned with all this person’s wordly belongings inside….very strange), and making it past the Caltrans blasting site with minutes to spare.  We even got to watch them blow up the boulder!  As a cherry on top one of the Caltrans workers gave us a ride up the final 4 miles of the hill — awesome!

 

Good job today guys, and way to Pullhard until the end.  Next week it’s back to timed circuits again…

Warm-Up Run, etc.

Stations:
12 X Tire Flip
2 X Sled Pull
1 X Flesh Storm
20 X Spin the Bisquit
25 X Box Jump
20 X KB swing, then 14 X Clean and Press (7 each arm)
1 X Bucket Carry
20 X Ab Roller
20 X Weighted Lunges

Endurance: 2 rounds with running a lap, and doing 5 burpees between each station, if station is still taken when finish lap, keep running until it’s free.  Once done with all stations, keep running until everyone is finished. 2 minutes down time between each.

Power: After the 2 endurance rounds, 1 power round without running or burpees, and fast half-sets at each station, pushing through all stations as fast as possible (no down time).

Attendees: Robb, Lin, Konstantin, Brent, Eliot

 

By: Konstantin, AA for 3/25/09

Sorry for the delay guys… took a while to get this from Konstantin to post…

Warm up run
Move from station to station, do 2 rotations total if you wait-run don`t fuck around.
Station 2. Stalin is back
•    (1)  30  push-ups (do less if you are pussy)
•    (2) 2 min greek statue (or at least 1 min plus some trying)
Station 3. Fidel`s colon surgery
•    (1) Run  2 laps with 20lb backpack
•    (2) Sprint run to the kids playground do 10 pullups, sprint run back do 10 pushups
Station 4. Kissing Putin`s ass
•    (1) 15 tire flips
•    (2) 30 abs rolls
Station 5. My daddy is a Red Army general
•    (1)Squad walk  with small bag on your back to the mark and back
•    (2) Sprint rock carry same distance
Station 6. Sex on the Red Square
•    (1) Barbell complex
•    (2) Flesh storm
Station 7. A chick from Chernobil
•    (1) Bucket carry 1x
•    (2) Pulling the rock sledge 10 times each way

Work out looks the same? Fuck no! This time we compete, to finish the rotations a soon as possible, the last one gets a Russian bonus.

By: Konstantin, AA for 3/18/09

Sorry for the delay guys… took a while to get this from Konstantin to post…

Warm up run
Move from station to station, do 2 rotations total if you wait-run don`t fuck around

n to station, do 2 rotations total if you wait-run don`t fuck around.

Station 1.  Lenin`s smile
•    30 chair sit-ups (do sit-ups holding a chair in your hands)
•    30 push ups

Station 2. Stalin is back
•    5 turkish stand-ups (do less if you are pussy)
•    2 min greek statue

Station 3. Fidel is alive!
•    Run  2 laps with 20lb backpack do box step ups (on the box step down left/right/on the box/back)

Station 4. Kissing Putin`s ass
•    15 Tire flips
•    20 abs rolls

Station 5. My daddy is a Red Army General
•    Squad walk  with small bag on your back to the mark and back

Station 6. Sex on the Red Square
•    2x Barbell complex
•    Rock carry

Station 7. North Korea Dance
•    Flesh storm
•    Pulling the rock sledge 10 times each way

Station 8. Kalashnikov delight
•    Sprint run to the kids playground do 10 pullups
•    Sprint run back do 20 burpees

Station 9. A chick from Chernobil
•    Bucket carry 1x
•    10 biscuit spins

P = G

Circuit #1

One Arm Alternating Kettle Bell (35lbs) swings x 30
Standing Sled Pull (50lbs) for 100′
Thrusters with Kettle Bell (35lbs) x 15
“Flesh Storm” – one run: ~ 400′

Circuit #2

Clean and Jerk (35lbs on each side) x 10
Kneeling Ab Roller x 15
Burpees x 10
Bucket Carry for ~400′

Circuit #3

22″ Box Jumps x 20
Tire Flip (330lbs) x 15
Pushups x 15
Spin the Biscuit (20lbs) x 20.

Results:

Post annihilation Greek Bonus: Hold the Greek statue for as long as you can!

Results:

Lin – 1:01
Alex – 1:36
Robb – 2:05
Ed – 2:05
Rinat – 2:56
Konstantin – 3:14

Josh fired it second go while I managed to get all the moves on TR. Definitely going back to work that one out.

The next day after erasing some trails via “vertical mulching” for ACSD we headed straight for Rusty Wall where I pulled off the redpoint of Wanger Banger as the first route of the day. Sweet!

Then in the most amazing effort of the weekend, Nath, fresh off her onsights of Left Banana Crack and Heart of Darkness, came “THIS” close to sending Wanger Banger onsight!

After a rest she fired it easily.

Nath pulling the crux of Wanger Banger:

Then we headed over to Father Figure, a 4-bolt 4-star overhung crimp and jug-fest. That’s a star per clip! (Can’t stick-clip if you want to get all 4 stars).

Josh put up the draws and then held on for the redpoint:

Josh, you are an animal!

 

Keep in mind, we had a decent weather window and would have booked it out of there had the storm rolled in early.

Personal Climbing Gear:
Backpack (stripped down, no lid)
Harness – the crappy old light one
Rock shoes (big enough for socks)
Belay device and locker (DMM Sentinal is the lightest HMS locker available)
Ice Axe
Crampons (ultralight aluminum – didn’t use them, almost pulled them out on the descent)
Ultralight Helmet (petzl meteor, but it looks pretty dorky)
Boots (La Sportiva Trango Evo S, freaking light and they climb really well)

Clothing:
Socks: one liner pair and 1 thicker pair
Light powerstretch gloves
Shell gloves that fit over the light ones
lightweight Long Underwear
Soft shell pants
Baselayer – Patagonia R1 hoody (this thing is unbelievably warm, only useful at freezing or below)
Shell – marmot 13.5 oz
Western Mountaineering down jacket – 13oz
balaclava – didn’t use it (the r1 hood is super warm)
extra thin top layer – didn’t wear it
lightweight gaiters

Rack: (shared between 3 people)
Six nuts
Double set of cams from blue TCU to 2 camalot, and a 3 camalot
6 or so tripled draws
7 slings with 1 biner each (saves weight over a tripled draw)
2 or 3 anchor setups (double length sling and a locker)
Rope – two pieces of 35m 8mm

Cooking Gear: (shared between 3 people)
Stove and Fuel: MSR Reactor and a partial canister of fuel (and a windscreen)
2 Lighters
1 Spoon

Food/Water:
Water: 2 liter capacity each (2 gatorade bottles)
Food: (shared between 3 people) summer sausage, block of cheese, pound of cooked bacon, handfull of choc-espresso beans, 2 packs of mashed potato flakes, half stick of butter, couple of gu’s/bars

Misc:
Headlamp
Spare headlamp (tiny petzl one)
Couple of light stuffsacks to organize stuff in the pack (since there was no lid)
Toilet Paper
Camera
Topos
Knife
Sunglasses
Pirate hat
Sword
Firecrackers

Notes:
The rack was pretty big for a route like this. We took a lot of gear on purpose which allowed us to simul FOREVER. And we simuled or soloed the whole route except for a traversing bit on the lower section and one notch-headwall combo on the upper route.

The Reactor was awesome, made us about 9 liters of water really quickly. The windscreen kept the canister from getting too cold, so we didn’t have to play any crotch tricks to get it warm again.

Even though it was pretty cold, we never stopped moving and so never had to wear much clothing. Our two breaks were limited to about an hour and a half at which point the cold forced us to keep moving.

The climb-through-the-night push approach worked really well, though by about hour 25 I was at about 20% physically and mentally. A short half-hour nap totally refreshed us though, and we could have kept going for a while.

Next time: more food (would have helped us descend faster, I was bonking hard), some caffiene, a super-bright headlamp since we’re climbing all night.

We kept our skis on for about 2.5 hours until we had emerged from the black lake cirque into the grandiose alpine amphitheater at the back of Glacier Gorge.  Besides being home to some of the best alpine rock in CO, the gorge also offers gnarly mixed alpine routes and classic waterfall ice.  McHenry’s peak presides over the Western side of the gorge.  Its dramatic eastern aspect is defined by 3 main gully systems;  The Snow Bench, Big Mac Couloir, and the The Right Gully..  All 3 require the climber to ascend 2-3 mixed pitches (about M2-4 R) whose level of sketchiness (LOS)* range from 3-4 depending on snow conditions.  We ditched our skis about 3/4 miles from the base of the route, and boot packed through varying snow the rest of the way to the base.  On my previous attempt at Big Mac, I had tried to exit Black lake via the slabs to the North of the West Gully ice flow…BIG MISTAKE, LOS4 due to stupidity.  The safest and fastest way to get anywhere in the gorge is to exit black lake via the snow gully on the East.

We stood below the base of McHenry’s at 815am, roped up and ready to depart on our sketchtastic voyage.  Since Buster had already climbed the first pitch (although it was an ice variation to the North), I offered to lead the first block.  My first obstacle was avoiding a 20-30 foot death hole beneath the snow, a sort of bergshrund.  The snow at the start was horrendous.  Anywhere from 3 inches to 3 feet of loose powder clung precariously to the granite slabs.  The most solid moves I could manage came when I was able to excavate some snow and find frozen moss underneath, which offered decent placements for my ice tools and single point crampons.  Buster had just taken an avalanche course and was quick to point out, in newly learned technical terminology, just how sketchy the snow beneath my feet really was.  The next pitch had the worst snow on the entire route and all I could find for a belay was a slot for an orange master cam and a piton connected by a sliding X.  I lead the 3rd pitch, taking us up the bottom of Snow Ramp, and angling right at the first chance into the base of The Big Mac, belaying again off a small cam and a piton.

By this time the sun had muscled its way through the overcast sky and began to warm things up a bit.  We were also now on a southeast facing aspect, and the snow went from Sketchasauras Rex to not so shitty. Buster swung into the lead and set a belay just below what would be the defining crux pitch of the route.  I belayed below a steepening chimney constriction for the next hour while Buster skillfully made his way up some strenuous and loose terrain.  He negotiated a dirty rock chimney with crusty ice runnels and a precarious snow mushroom to boot, probably rated M5-6.

By the time I made it up to his belay, it was 130pm and we needed to start moving if we hoped to avoid getting benighted.  I suggested we start simulclimbing since the terrain ahead of us looked like mostly steep snow climbing with possible rock protection along the sides of the gully.  I lead the simul push for the next 350 feet or so through decently packed steep snow and a step or two of mixed rock with frozen moss.  I set a belay about 100 feet below the cornice that defined the summit ridge of McHenry’s from the East.  I then lead a final 200-300 foot simul-pitch until I surmounted the huge buttress that separates the Big Mac Couloir from the Right Gully.  That’s when I saw the weather coming in.

One pitch away from the summit plateau and a subsequent quick descent via Stoneman pass, retreat was not an option, and Buster quickly lead a short rock pitch to the summit plateau.  Here we packed up the 8.5mm rope we had used as a single line the whole time into a pack and scrambled to the top.
By this time “groppel” had begun to fall, which is like soft little hail balls, which the early native Americans believed to be the Parmesan cheese of the weather spirit.  Buster informed me that this “Groppel” was usually associated with lightning, which is usually associated with death, and not a welcoming thought when you are at the summit of a 13000 foot mountain.  We quickly descended the 3rd-4th class ridge to Stoneman Pass, which still faintly held my tracks from 3 weeks prior when Asa Firestone and I had settled for a quick summit of the peak when our attempt of The Big Mac had been thwarted by a late start.  We made it down to the pass in about 45 minutes, and hung out there for a while since the weather was easing up.  A quick glisade down to the main cirque was followed by a hike back to our skis and then back to the car.  P=G!

Gear:
8.5mm dynamic dry rope used as a single for leading and simul-climbing
7mm tag line for bailing, never used
single rack of cams from blue TCU to #3 BD
set of stoppers
4 pitons (very key!)
2 ice screws, never used
8 slings, 2 double length slings, 2 x 30 foot cordalettes
ice tools, single point crampons

Times:
TH 330am
black lake 530am
base of route 720am
summit 315pm
back to skis 530pm
car 7pm

*Level of Sketchiness ratings
1.  Sketchy in spots if you’ve never encountered such conditions (Most of Colorado)
2.  Unanimous sketchness, but ample protection  (Ouray Ice Park)
3.  Wussies (combination of wimp and pussy) need not apply, little protection and questionable conditions (any “Scotty Vacation”)
4.  Delicate climbing needed to avoid death, protection sparse, survival takes precedence over style  (Big Mac)
5.  Major Cajones required, little to no protection, poor conditions, bad weather, luck is a key factor in avoiding catastrophe  (A bad day at the Ouray ice park)
6.  In order for a route to earn a LOS6, something bad has to happen during the climb and someone has to live to tell about it

After a couple quick stops to pick up some batteries, and visit friends on the way north, I arrived at Snow Creek Rd. around 22.30 Friday evening and drove up the

road until reaching the “no trespassing” signs for the private community of Snow Creek Village.  Taking a look around, and getting oriented for later in the night when I’d be back to trespass on my way up the trail, I turned back down the road, drove past the power station on the right, and headed out into the washes to review route notes, and grab a couple hours of sleep before parking at the power station, and starting the ascent.  Although quite excited about the route, and the long day ahead, I was a little apprehensive since I’d never been on the climb before, and was going to be doing the first alpine test of my ankle that I broke at the end of summer,  but I crawled into the back of my ‘87 Land Cruiser (the SNOOZE), and tried to konk out under the bright 3/4 moon, and Snow Creek looming above.

00:59 AM – after laying in the back of my truck awake for two hours, and before my alarm had time to sound, I turned it off and began breakfast.  Wanting to get moving, and feeling too tired to get the stove going for hot water, I pored hot mint-green tea on my instant oatmeal, and scarfed down a few packets (surprisingly, green and brown oatmeal with mint-green tea isn’t too bad) before driving back to the power station.  The moon was bright, and my surroundings were well-lit as I left the snooze at around 1180′ and headed up trail with my skis and touring boots strapped to my pack.  In order to make better time on the first half of the route, and for comfort’s sake on the long slog, I’d decided to wear my usual running shoes until I reached the snow around 4000′ above.  A half-mile from the power station I came upon Snow Creek Village and turned left onto Falls Creek Rd.  Passing a few houses in the silent night, I hopped the gate guarding the Desert Water Agency’s property, and continued up Falls Creek Rd.  My ankle was stiff, and a little sore, but I decided to continue on and see how it loosened up over the next couple hours.  If it got worse, I’d bail, else I’d go on.

Perhaps 30 or more minutes after leaving the car I came upon the first two buildings guarding the water agency’s property on each side of the 1-lane road.  Passing by the security camera directly overhead, and walking as silently as possible, trying not to crunch any gravel on the pavement, I walked past the open windows of the buildings and continued on into the night.  A few hundred feet later, the road split – with the trailer of the caretaker and a large storage tank on the right, and a bridge crossing the creek on the left.  Figuring I needed to get on the other side of the creek, I crossed the bridge, and scouted around for the beginnings of a trail.  After a short while I decided to give up on the trail, but immediately after crossing under a small pipeline, I gained it by luck and started up the switchbacks of the brushy and rocky slopes above.  Traveling purely by moonlight I continued along, soon losing the trail in one of it’s thinner sections, and went for the SFU (direct) approach up the hill.  Around 3000′ the slopes leveled out into a gradually ascending plateau, and I continued up following the contours of the ridge, hoping to regain the trail before the entrance to “the tunnel” above.

Around 4000′, in a place where the ridgeline steepened and narrowed, I passed a group of 3 sleeping climbers, and soon regained the trail again, now better marked with cairns and more traveled.  Turning on my headlamp so as not to lose the way again as the bush thickened, I continued up for another few hundred feet until reaching the entrance to “the tunnel” at around 4400′.  The tunnel is a nice path cut, and woven through clearings along the brushy hillside to connect the initial ridgline between the East Fork of Snow Creek and Falls Creek with the actual East Fork.  Resting for a few minutes and grabbing a bite at the entrance, I was happy to have made 3200′ of elevation gain, and a decent amount of horizontal distance in less than 3 hours.  My ankle was holding up well (thank you brace), I felt refreshed, and was excited about the possibilities of soon being on snow. At this point, I was also hoping to gain the summit by about 11am and make it back to the Perris area to meet friends for dinner around 6… unfortunately that wasn’t going to happen thanks to a blunder soon afterwards.

Leaving my skis on the pack as I entered the tunnel (I should have just carried them by hand through the brush), I hunched over and made my way through the bushes (skis catching on regularly of course, and making scrambling a bit tricky), eventually dropping into Snow Creek still near 4400′ and a little way below a split in the creek.  Right before I dropped into the creek, I could see the headlamps of the party that had been sleeping as I passed them earlier, get up and start heading up the trail behind.

Continuing up the creek only a few hundred feet, I came to a cliff blocking the route.  Not taking time to glance at my map, and remembering incorrectly, I made the big mistake of assuming this was part of “the chockstone” and followed a steep, loose, dirt slope up to the right to circumnavigate it.  Crawling up in the dark, I began to think it was probably about time to traverse back left into the creek, and followed the beginnings of a trail in that direction.  Unfortunately, had I got only 20′ higher, I would have seen the correct trail going to the right into the East Fork of Snow Creek proper, but instead I continued left into another creek coming down from above.  After some short, but hellacious bushwacking (especially with those darn 190cm skis and poles… no light touring set-up yet), I entered the gully and continued up a few hundred feet more.  Around 5200′ I found a windbreak/camp built up of stone, and as the dawn sky began to light up the ridges around me I realized “oh crud, I’m in the wrong gully”.  It was now probably around 06.20, and I’d just wasted a lot of time bushwacking, up and down, back and forth, into a gully that I didn’t want to be in.  Bloody-friggin’ hell.

Looking at the map, it was quickly apparent that this gully would soon gain a ridge (probably more hellacious bushwhacking involved) and not be nearly as fun as the Snow Creek option.  So, cranky, and pissed at my own stupidity for not checking my map earlier (or using my headlamp as much as I should have instead of relying on the moon), I started side-hilling and bushwacking to Snow Creek.  Every move took extensive effort to get my pack, skis and poles around as thick brush and regular boulders and small cliffs got in the way.  About halfway through I finally just took my skis off the pack, and although this made boulder scrambling more difficult (except for when the skis would catch on boulders while still strapped to the pack), it made getting around, over and through trees and bushes much easier.  Another two hours later I dropped into snow creek, thoroughly exhausted, and pretty upset with myself.  I continuued up the gully for a short while, topping off my water on the way, and soon came upon the “real” chockstone, which was quite obviously named such for a reason.

Examining the easy 5th class to the right of the chockstone, I decided that with the trouble the skis had already given me, I didn’t want to get stuck on 5th class terrain with skis hanging-up on rocks, and me already feeling exhausted, so I took the easier option of third and fourth class scrambling through the trees to the right.  The skis and poles were a nightmare through here, even though I had again taken them off the pack, but I eventually popped out above the chockstone – totally spent and in need of a break.  It was now 9 o’clock, and I had just wasted four and a half hours on what should have taken me a maximum of one and half.  I was pretty spent, torn up (especially my new soft-shell pants – bummer), but happy to be on route and looking at snow above.

As I got my ski gear on, and enjoyed a nice PBJ, the group of 3 I had passed earlier caught up.  They had also done some bushwacking, having missed “the tunnel”, and had nearly followed my lead into the wrong gully as well.  Luckily, however, another experienced group in hot-pursuit redirected them in the right direction and they avoided doing my off-route bushwacking as well.  Upon chatting with these three, I found out that they were from Riverside Mountain Rescue (RMRU), and were up here to both experience the route that they often rescue people off of, as well as retrieve some gear that was blown away during a rescue a little over a week prior.  Being from another mountain rescue team, SDMRT, it was nice to meet some other colleagues, and catch up on their recent operations in the area.  Around 09.30 though, I headed up, and left them to finish their own snack break below.

I initially tried skinning up the firm ice/snow at the base of the gully, but it quickly turned too steep and hard for skins, so I strapped the skis back on my pack and began the tedious process of side-stepping in my crampons up the slope above.  After about 1000′ I hit sunshine, the first RMRU member caught-up, and I could see a large group of 8 coming up from near the chockstone.  For the rest of the climb, I’d leap-frog with the RMRU crew, mostly taking breaks in alternate spots, until two of the three slowly pulled away during the last couple thousand feet to the summit.  Sticking to the right at most junctions, we continued up the couloir, zig-zagging back and forth as we side-stepped up the 35-45 degree slope, occasionally front-pointing when necessary.  I had brought a new set of crampons for this trip to replace my well-worn BD sabretooths, and they seemed to perform quite well.

About 2000′ from the top, a group of 4 skiers and a snowboarder came down from the summit, knocking debris down the gully, and the occasional rock – but nothing too sketchy.  Just to round-out the mountain rescue crew, one of them happened to be from San Bernardino Mountain Rescue! I gave them what info I could on the route down (they had never been on that trail), and they continued on out of site.  Probably around 1500′ from the top, the leader of the group of eight from below caught up, and passed ahead.  Myself and the slowest of the three from the RMRU group continued plodding along, following the others’ steps in the softer sections, and getting passed by a few more from the group of 8, until we crested the summit around 15.00.  The top few hundred feet was pretty soft, and I was definitely grateful that someone had set the steps ahead of me…

At the summit, we were met by more of the RMRU crew that had taken the tram up in the gear retrieval operation, and I was told the story about their contacting the water agency in order to try and get a permit to access the route legally.  Being as ridiculous as they are, the water agency wouldn’t even give the mountain rescue team a permit citing the importance of the purity of the water.  Apparently, the agency seems to believe that only 1-2 people even go back there a year, right…

A quick nutella snack, and a couple summit shots later (with my Vasque txapela hat for kicks), it was time to head out and use all the daylight I could to ski out.  The RMRU guys thought it was pretty funny I was going to climb and ski it in one day, but I soon dropped in (literally), and after a little rock navigation was in the firm, and at times quite icey and bumpy, Snow Creek Coulior and on my way back out.

I skied back down the snowy 5500′ of the route, taking frequent breaks, and making few nice looking turns thanks to the firm and bumpy snow/ice and my pooped legs.  Shadows covered most of the route again, and so even the parts that had softened slightly during the day were again firm and slick.  In short, the skiing was pretty lame as conditions go, but it was still a great place to be and a lot of fun (and relatively technical) skiing down. By around 04.30 I had reached the chockstone, kicked off the snow gear, and scrambled through the trees around it.  Descending another few hundred feet, I filled up my water bottle again, passed a couple funny guys making a two-day trip out of it (and enjoying some nice looking PBR’s and steaks), and continued along the part of the trail I had missed before… dropped back down into the gully to the cliff where I got off-route, then back through the tunnel (much easier with skis in hand instead of on the pack), and down the ridgeline following the marked trail, and taking a couple breaks to grab a quick snack here and there.

As I headed down the final 1000′ to the water station, dusk started to settle, and the attendent of the water station returned home and started driving around to check on the facilities.  I carefully worked my way down the hill when he was turned away, staying behind rocks and bushes when he was looking my direction, until hitting the road again right as dusk fell.  Under the cover of darkness, I crossed the bridge and dropped into the wash circumnavigating his trailer and the houses on the road, until rejoining it one sprained ankle and about 1/2 mile later for the final walk to the car in the dark.  Around 20.15, a little under 19 hrs after setting out, and one great day later (and after probably 10,500′ of climbing instead of 9600′ thanks to a bunch of extra vertical gained during my off-route escapades), I was back at the car – and ready for a big burger and rest before heading back to San Diego.

Final Note: The skiing is technical, with serious consequences should you fall, but it is a fun way to do the route, and it would probably even be skinnable in sections with the right snow conditions (it’d help to have an AT setup with crampons attached), and a nice way to avoid the cabfare to get back to your car! Plus, you’ve got to earn your turns…

(Originally published at alaskarobb.blogspot.com)

WYW is Dead. Get over it. It’s time to Annihilate.  See you at AA on Wednesday, 5 o’clock sharp.

Warm-up:
Short Stretch
30 air squats
30 push-ups
30 jumping lunges
30 sit-ups
Obstacle course run.

Workout:
9 stations, 6 people.  Run lap between each station and stay in order.  If next station isn’t available, run another lap.

3 Rounds of:

1 ) Flesh Storm (post and back)
2 ) Ab Roller  (25x)
3 ) 3 pnt. Box steps with rock (12x – 1rep = holding rock, step up on box, down off one side, back up on box, and down on other side, and back up)
4 )Tire – 10 flips
5 ) Carry buckets to pole and back
6 ) Barbell Complex – 1 set of 5x everything
7 ) Sled X-overs working lats and stomach – 10 each side
8 ) Weighted lunges – 20x, followed by 5x tuck jumps (w/o weight)
9 ) Weighted Sit-up – 30x

After each full round, take a 2 minute break, then start sequence again.
Puking, as usual, allows you to skip one station of choice.

Attendees:
Robb
Shayda
Lin
Konstantin
Rinat
Ed

The picture of the first free ascent is so famous it’s used world wide. Even non-climbers in Tasmania and Australia know what it is! The difficulties are many. It’s an extremely difficult and exposed climb. Typically when climbing, you just have to worry about weather, but just to get on “The Tote” you have to worry about the sea as well! You need so many factors to come together for a successful ascent, that you have to be damn lucky! There has to be low wind, no rain, and the temperatures have to be reasonable. The surf has to be low, as does the tide. In order to maximize our chance of success, we bought our plane tickets to coincide with low tide at noon.  We planned to be in Tazmania for a full week, ready to wait out bad weather if we had to. Since Tazmania is known for bad weather and high surf, I wasn’t even sure about our chances of even getting on the route!

We flew into Hobart, picked up our rental car (they tried to rip us off, bring your internet receipt, luckily we did) and headed to a friend of a friends we had met in The Pines campground at Arapiles. John not only let us crash at his place for a few nights, but took us out climbing at Mt. Wellington the next day. It was dolerite columns, very similar to basalt, but the friction is the best I’ve ever seen in my life! You could hold onto anything! This is a good thing, since the features were few and far between sometimes. We did one 60m trad line that I think I got off route on, since it was supposed to be a classic. I ended up on chossy rock and it was much harder than rated (by the way, Tazmania is apparently known for sandbags), but I made it and Nath followed. After that, I onsighted a multipitch 24 (5.12a) sport route up an arete. By then, we were already running out of time so we took off. When I asked John what type of rock the Totem Pole was, it turned out to be DOLERITE! I was excited since I had essentially just calibrated and gotten used to the rock and the style since the Totem Pole is a multipitch 25 (5.12b) mostly bolted route up an arete!!!

That night, while crashing at John’s place, some other travelers showed up and they crashed there too. With the most amazing bit of luck, possibly ever, one of them was a beginner climber and when she found out what we planned to do the next day she asked if she could come and watch! We of course said, “Sure, do you mind taking pictures?!” We suddenly had a photographer for one of the most amazing routes on the planet!

We woke early and made the 2 hour drive to Fortescue Bay.  After some preparations, we started the 2+ hour hike out to Cape Huay. It had rained on us on and off during the drive, and I just hoped it would dry enough for us to climb the route. We arrived at the end of Cape Huay and I looked down from the edge of the cliff where the trail ends, and gaped at what I saw. The Totem Pole was a tiny little finger sticking up out of the water over 100m below with waves ravaging the base of it. We started the “climber’s” hike down, which took a little while and we were finally at our destination a little before noon staring, level, with the top of our objective! Perfect! Low tide was at 12:05, the rain had dried enough, while cloudy and a little cool it was still warm enough to climb since there was very little wind. Despite what seemed to me large surges of waves slamming into the base of the Totem Pole, everything was falling into place……

Luckily, a friend from Arapiles (Derek) had let us borrow a rope so we had two for the route (you have to have at least two ropes to climb and get off the thing), and I tied one to the mainland for the rappel, grabbed all the gear, put on my harness, rain jacket, and stuffed my climbing shoes and chalk bag into the rain jacket in an attempt to keep them dry from the maelstrom of waves I was descending into. Before I left, I instructed Nathalie, “When I’m off rappel, come down QUICK, because neither of us want to be hanging down there longer than we have to!” I didn’t really know what to expect, but I was nervous. Often, there isn’t much that gets me nervous when it comes to climbing, but the Totem Pole did the trick.

To help you picture it, the Totem pole is at the end of a small peninsula of land (Cape Huay) that drops precipitously into the ocean. From the end of the Cape, the Totem Pole is squeezed between the mainland and another island formation named The Candlestick by climbers. Beyond that is another larger island that keeps extending out where the peninsula ended. The Totem Pole is right between two land masses at a pinch point in the ocean, with open ocean on either side. This means that the waves/swells come from BOTH DIRECTIONS! The rappel is roughly 190′ into this intimidating situation, and then you have to get on the thing! Near the bottom of the rappel, I ended up standing on a small ledge a little over 2 meters above the surging ocean. As the swells came through from either direction they crashed into rocks and sent spray everywhere.

I prepared myself for what I had to do: run (barefoot), leap across the gap between the mainland and the Totem Pole swinging on the rope I had just rappelled in on, take a nut with the head pushed down, and try to hook it on the head of a bolt that had been placed on the Totem Pole by climbers. If I missed, I would swing back violently into the wall behind me. I prepared the nut, clipped to a long sling attached to my harness, and sprinted across the small ledge leaping for all I was worth! As the gap between me and the Totem Pole closed, I quickly realized how hard this would be. Right at the apex of my swing, the bolt was barely in reach and I only had one attempt at catching it with my small wire before flying back into the rocks behind me. I reached, I hoped, and I missed! As quickly as I could, I turned around and prepared for impact before attempting to absorb all that swinging energy with my bare feet on rocks. Ouch! I swung back to the ledge and stared at my objective again, a tiny little bolt around 15′ away.

I steeled myself for another attempt. Still staring at the bolt, ignoring all else, I ran and jumped as hard as I could… BOOM! A wave came in right as I was swinging and exploded around me soaking my legs with its spray. I stayed focused, but again my attempt to hook the bolt was a miserable failure. I slammed back into the wall behind me feet first again and realized this really wasn’t going to be easy. I swung again and again, and eventually on my sixth or seventh try I hooked the head of the bolt with my little wire and I suddenly realized I was a sitting duck for those surges below! The rock was wet almost 2m above my head, and each wave that crashed into the base from the left side of the Totem Pole would be having it’s way with me. Luckily, I had my shoes and chalk bag hidden in my rain jacket….

I quickly started working on creating a redundant anchor. I had a carrot hanger for the 2nd bolt, and I quickly put it on and clipped myself into it. The 2nd bolt I clipped was rusted and bent over from over use and metal fatigue. Then I realized that I couldn’t get a proper hanger on the first, good bolt since I was already hanging off it with a wire. That problem quickly solved itself when the wire (pulled straight out since I still had tension on the rappel line) blew off the bolt sending me onto the crappy second bolt. It wasn’t much of a fall onto that lower bolt, but it scared the hell out of me! Suddenly I was hanging off of a single crappy bolt and the rappel line, and if that crappy piece of metal decided to go, then I’d be swinging rather violently back into the wall behind me, AGAIN! As quickly as I could, I got a hanger on the first bolt and clipped back into it! Then, I took myself off rappel and it was time for Nathalie to come down as the waves smashed into the wall beneath me. The whole time, the explosions from the waves seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Either the waves were getting bigger throughout the day, or the tide had turned and was rising beneath my feet.  Maybe both?

As Nath decended, I turned my attention to the waves careening into the base of the Totem Pole. While intimidating as hell, I quickly realized that I’d never seen water that blue in my life! It was amazing! Most water has a blue-green look, but this was BLUE!

I started scanning the line I would be climbing above me, and realized that not only was it wet and difficult, but it was also far to the first carrot bolt! It was at least 10′ before the next bolt, but at least there was a tiny dripping wet crack above and to the left in the direction of the bolt.

Nath came down and we situated ourselves on the tiny cramped hanging belay, and I unclipped from the anchor to start climbing. Looking down, I realized that if I fell from even a little ways up, that would put me not only in the ocean with quite a bit of metal attached to me, but I’d be attached by a rope to hold me in the spot where the waves were slamming into the rock! Oh yeah, did I mention that those cold waters have Great White sharks? With the rock so wet and the danger so high, I decided to go the safe way, and I placed two pieces of gear in the crack up left and hung on them while I put my climbing shoes and chalk bag on, which had managed to stay dry. The shoes weren’t dry long though, since the rock was soaked. I pulled up on the pieces of gear until I could at least reach something dry with my hands, and I chalked up and started climbing. The first 10′ were the most intimidating I started smearing my feet on tiny wet holds while pulling strenuous lieback moves in order to reach the bolt above, and even after my feet were on drier territory the shoes were still wet underneath. I kept going until I could place a hanger and a clip into the first lead bolt on the route. I looked up and it was going to be a battle to the ledge above. There are few holds, and few bolts as well. I climbed as quick as I could, feeling guilty hearing every wave that slammed into the base knowing that Nathalie was being soaked by them. There was only so much I could do though, since I was climbing 5.12a with no warmup and the protection was spaced enough that I had to take it seriously and methodically to make sure I didn’t go for any frequent flyer miles. Luckily, Nathalie had a huge grin on her face every time I looked down! What a trooper!

I worked my way up and up, and eventually found myself past the last bolt on easier territory. I placed a cam in a small crack since it was a long ways to the ledge, still, and when I was finally standing on top of the 2m ledge I let out a whoop of joy! I had done it, I’d conquered the scary, mentally demanding first pitch of the route with no falls at all! I quickly clipped myself into the bolts and pitons at the ledge, and looked down to yell, “Off belay!” Just as I was finished yelling the biggest wave so far slammed into the base and kicked up a spray so violent that I saw Nathalie disappear in the froth. When the white fell back into the ocean, there she was, the hood of her jacket pulled off from her head by the weight of water that had just landed in it! It was time to get her out of there! I hauled up rope as quick as I could until it was tight, threw it through my belay device and she was off the belay and on her way to join me. She did spectacularly, pulling all the moves of the pitch, except she just wasn’t ready to try 5.12a without warmup. Her forearms “flashpumped” and she had trouble hanging on and had to rest occasionally on the way up.

Once we were on the ledge, I knew we were through the hardest part mentally, and that we would get to the top, so I was excited! However, I was on the other hand I was anxious. I had just climbed the first pitch “onsight” which meant climbing it without falling first try. It’s the purest, most rewarding way to climb something. I still had a chance to onsight the Totem Pole! I haven’t met anyone who has done it, including climbers who are better than I am. Looming above was 40m of wicked hard sustained climbing on the thinnest of holds with a grade of 25 (5.12b).

With the mix of excitement and anxiousness, I started up the pitch hoping that I could pull it off onsight! As I worked my way up the pitch, I realized that it was going to be a long protracted battle. I wanted to take it slow, rest where I could, and make sure I didn’t fall. The pitch was amazing, simply perfect. Climbing an endless corner for move after move up a square pillar 4m across balanced in the blue, blue ocean… I slowly unlocked every sequence, and difficulty. When I got tired, I pulled harder. When I ran out of holds, I judged it right and dynoed for the next hold far away, hoping it was good, and it was. When I couldn’t hold on any longer, there would be a small 2″ foothold to take some weight off my hand so I could rest. I committed myself to climbing without hesitation when I was far above gear, and I slowly unlocked the puzzle over the course of the next hour or so, on one of the greatest climbs I’ve ever done. Toward the top, I was using my core muscles so much that my abs ached from helping my hands and feet work together efficiently. As I topped out on the final ledge, I could barely believe it! I had onsighted the Totem Pole! It was one of my biggest goals of the entire climbing trip and I had done it! I sat down and clipped in, and just enjoyed sitting on the top of such a beautiful ocean spire while I prepared to bring Nath up behind me.

This pitch was graded 23 in the guidebooks, so I hadn’t realized it would be quite so hard for her. Nath had never climbed a 25 before (this is the true grade, I found out, after talking to many others and looking at the grade everywhere but a Tasmanian climbing guide) and again the lack of warmup that day took its toll. In addition, the holds were spaced in such a way that it would have been extremely difficult for her to link certain features with her 5′1″ frame. Reach is definitely a factor on the Totem Pole. She climbed the first half splendidly, but as she reached the more difficult sections (where I had to jump between holds because they were too far apart) she had more trouble. Eventually she made it to the top, taking about as long as I did on my ascent of the 40m pitch, and we were both sitting on the top ledge together!

There was a final 3m summit block that I quickly lead up, for some pictures, and down lead. Peter Croft says, “Summits matter” and in this case I had to agree.  It was pretty spectacular up there, and I felt impelled to strike the official PullHarder pose.

After this, we had to start working on getting OFF the thing! The whole time Nathalie was climbing, she had the rope we had rappelled off the mainland attached to her. Before we had climbed, I had explained how important it was to her and how under now circumstances could she drop it, so it was attached to her with two locking carabiners.  Now, the rope made a huge “U” between us on the summit of the Totem Pole, and the anchor back on the mainland. I pulled it tight, like a tightrope but with more slack, and tied it to two bolts on the summit of the Totem Pole. After I did this, I clipped into the rope and jumped off the edge of the Totem Pole to dangle 60m above the raging ocean below. I pulled myself hand over hand out to the middle and just hung there a while since I’d rarely be in such a spectacular position in my entire life. Once I was satisfied, I continued on to the mainland to set it up so Nath could do the same and we could get the ropes back. Nath was terrified to hop off the Totem Pole with so much air under her heels, but once she did, she immediately loved it. I showed her how to flip upside down and pull yourself to the other side efficiently, and we were back on the mainland having completed our first “Tyrolean Traverse” ever!

Cassia, the traveler/photographer who came out with us, even threw on a harness and went out to touch the Totem Pole and come back!

With that, we packed up. It was getting dark, quick, and I had no idea that a 2 pitch 65m climb could take that long! I hadn’t even brought headlamps out with us. Luckily, we had a full moon to walk back to the car with, and so we started the 3 hour slow moonlight walk back riding the high of success from our amazing, beautiful day!

 

Warm up:

40 air squats
30 push ups
40 jumping lunges
30 leg lifts
40 supermans
2 laps on the track

Workout was performed in two man teams. First exercise determines no of reps/duration of the second exercise (except station 4).

Station 1:

4 rounds of fleshstorm and barbell thrusters

Station 2:

3 rounds of heavy bag get-ups (3 each side) and ab roller.

Station 3:

4 rounds of tire-flips (8 flips) and kettlebell swings.

Station 4:

4 rounds of two-man side row (40 reps each). Performed with weighted sled.

Station 5:

4 rounds of box jumps (10 reps) and Greek statue.

Attendees:

Kostas
Charles
Rinat
Shayda
Konstantin
Lin
Brent
Dan
Ed
Robb

Every Wednesday at 4:30, sharp.

Climbed by Scott Nelson, Nathan Ricklin and Charles Ince, January 30th 2009.

All we have is two maybe three days, which is pushing it for a winter climb in the Sierra.  Discussing possible objectives, we talked about going up for a look at the Death Couloir, but easily came up with several reasons to cross that off the list.  With only two or three days, we thought we would aim for something adjacent to the Owens Valley.  Lone Pine Peak (LPP) immediately came to mind.  We thought of the alpine routes on the South Face (SF), but we decided they would require more time before they come into condition.  A couple years ago Scotty and I found an amazing mixed route on the SFLPP that opened our eyes to the winter potential that exists back there.  On the north side, the super classic North Ridge route came to mind.  We decided that if we signed up for the complete North Ridge of LPP (CNRLPP) out of the Owens Valley we might make our mothers proud.  Additionally, if we could do it in a push without bivy gear, maybe our fathers would be proud too, especially if we could drag our asses back down in time for the Super Bowl!

So here we were, the weather looked great and we were on our way.  There was one more thing, Nate had recently given himself a mohawk and was looking quite badass.  So in an effort to up our badassness, Scotty and I decided to stop at Party City for additional equipment.  The outcome was far from expected.  Scotty went for a Nasa Space helmet (mainly because it looked warm) and some scissors in case he would need to cut the rope.  I came across a Viking helmet that made me want to kick the shit out of anyone that gave me a cross eye and I had a sword to back that up.  Nate settled for a pirate hat and sword in case his mohawk became de-spiked.

We pulled into the Lone Pine Campground which is situated near the base of the CNRLPP off Whitney Portal Road and got geared up.  It was 2:00 in the afternoon and we were leaving at 10:30 pm that night.  After fucking around and having sword fights we crashed out and had what I would like to call a long “nap”.

Our strategy was as follows: cruise up the easy stuff at night and brew up as soon as we reached the technical sections.  Easy enough except we started hitting some problem areas around 9500 feet on the lower ridge and it was only 1:00 am.  We passed obstacles on the right side for a while and then got pushed down into some nasty gullies and slabs.  One previous trip report said to follow “ledges” which we found quite difficult to make out in the dark.  The Viking, Pirate and Astronaut pressed on but were becoming agitated.  At one point the Pirate got stuck on an icy traverse and instead of helping, the Viking and Astronaut started badgering him by throwing objects in his direction and yelling obscenities.

Upward progress led to better position and we soon were moving quickly up the ridge crest.  A nice flat spot came upon us at 5:00 in the morning and without a word said we settled in for a much needed brew stop.  I got a great nap in that lasted about three and half minutes before my ass fell asleep and my legs and feet became cold.  The Pirate and Astronaut somehow lied there motionless as if they had been ejected off the set of a terrible movie.  I slowly began the snow melting operation in an effort to generate some heat.  After I was finished up we had some instant mashed potatoes, cheese and bacon.  Before the trip I fried two pounds of bacon to munch on.  I figured it would offer up lots of calories and divine snacking which it certainly lived up to. Morning light soon revealed the rest of the days obstacles that loomed high above and we decided to get moving.  We still had quite a ways to go in order reach the beginning of the North Ridge proper route.

We made it a few hundred feet before the Astronaut radioed to Houston that he would need a belay.  Interesting slab and hand-traverse pitches unfolded in front of us and we managed to wind through without too much trouble.  Memorable knife edged sections went on for hundreds of feet and soon the Pirate, Astronaut and Viking reached the beginning of the North Ridge proper, it was 11:00 am. We attacked just as your imagination would expect a Viking, a Pirate and an Astronaut to do so.  We found it much easier to stay on the ridge crest despite the beta calling for detours off the ridge which, in winter, were sketchy gullies and slabs covered in ice and snow.  We simuled the whole route in four or five mega pitches, busting our lungs up the summit headwall in one huge pitch, and summitted at 5:30 pm. We had been going for over 19 hours.

On the summit, we ate what we thought was the rest of our food, snapped some photos and looked for the summit register which we never ended up finding. The sun sunk behind the Sierra crest and we started getting really cold and decided it was time to go. There was one problem: we were not sure which way to descend.  I argued the Meysen Drainage but the Astronaut and Pirate said the Tuttle Creek descent was quicker.  Fatigue prevented me from making a worthwhile case so down to Tuttle Creek we went.  After moving off the summit plateau we encountered massive postholing while coming down the eastern gullies.  Hours and hours later we finally left the snow behind us and started pushing down the brushy and sandy slopes.

Pirate’s comment: Scotty and I were beyond wasted at this point, lagging a few hundred feet behind Charles, who charged downward postholing in waste-deep snow.  I was operating at about 20% both mind and body, splitting headache, stumbling down the deep footprints, and wanted to fall asleep in my posthole many times.  Charles gets a lot of credit for keeping us moving.

At one point we found a large rock overhang and decided to have a brew stop, it was about 11:00 pm.  We were all starving so we decided to see if there had been any overlooked food.  When to our delight, someone produced a chunk of butter and a single serving serving of instant mashed potatoes.  After gobbling down the potatoes (2-bite rule) we tried to nap but it was just too cold.  Up and at it again we finally dropped out into the Owens Valley and realized we were nowhere near the car.  Using my Blackberry I was able to pull up a Google map that showed the Lone Pine Campground was a LONG way off.  Try five miles!  After an ENDLESS desert slog we made it back to the car at 3:00 am.  Some beer and combos capped off the climb and we soon crashed.  The next morning we hauled ass back to San Diego and caught the end of the first quarter of the Superbowl.  Mission accomplished.

 

40 air squats
30 jumping lunges
20 side cruches
20 supermans
25 crunches

Basic circuit training. Three teams of three.

Station 1:

Exercises:  Fleshstorm, jumping lunges and box jumps.

Complete as many reps as possible while a team member completes a fleshstorm run.  Four rounds.

Station 2:

Exercises:  Double handed kettlebell swings, tire flips and the Greek Statue (hold rock over head, arms extended)

Complete as many reps as possible while team member completes 10 tire flips.

Station 3:

Exercises:  Rock relay.  Rock is passed between end points (200 feet apart) while team members perform push-ups at one end and air squats at the other.  As many reps as possible are completed while rock is transport.

Warm down: Double Indian Run

Attendees:

Kostas
Charles
Nate
Shay
Brent
Lin
Rinat
Konstantin
Shayda

Every Wednesday at 4:30. RSVP by noon to participate.

Greek Warm-up:
Warmup run (through the tree)
10 x burpee
30 x air squat
20 x leg lift
20 x jumping lunge

Station 1 (5 rounds):
8 pullups
10 ring pushups

Station 2 (6 rounds):
5 53lb KB Clean+Press each arm
5 Tire Flips

Station 3 (4 rounds):
barbell complex (6 x deadlift, bent-over row, hang-clean, front squat, push press, back squat, pushup)

Station 4 (4 rounds):
partner carry with 5 squats (200m)

Station 5 (4 rounds):
10 Ab-Rollers
10 Weighted Situps (Med-KB)

Station 6 (4 rounds):
Heavy Bucket Carry (200m)

Attendees:
Kostas
Dan
Brent
Konstantin
Rinat
Lin
Ed
Nate
Reid
Brian

Warm-up:
2 x lap on track
40 x air squat
40 x jumping lunge
10 x burpee
30 x leg lift
30 x atomic sit-up
20 x superman

Station 1:
4 rounds of
20 x step-up with rock (10 each leg, hold rock in your lap)
10 x slasher-to-halo + 10 x weighted sit-up (with KB)

Station 2:
4 rounds of
1 x BB complex (6 x deadlift, bent-over row, hang-clean, front squat, push press, back squat)

Station 3:
4 rounds of
2 min tire fight
1 min rest

Station 4:
Rock carry between lamp posts (eight total, set the rock down half-way, DON’T DROP IT)

Attendees:
Shay
Kostas
Konstantin
Ed
Lin
Shayda
Brent
Rinat
Reed

Comment: The BB is 13# so you should be able to calculate the weight you used on the BB complex. Keep track of it, so you can monitor your progress in terms of strength. This is a great exercise to practice all the basic lifts.

Day two led to better and longer TR routes, including some M7 mixed climbing.  Unfortunately though we were still too much the sallies to strike out on the sharp end of the rope.  However, at the end of the day Robb and Josh managed to spot a highly aesthetic line near he lower bridge for trying on lead the next day.  That night we all prepped for the following day’s lead by celebrating Josh’s 30th with a bottle of wine, a 5th of whiskey, and about 5 pitchers of beer – which led to homo-erotic pillow fights between mohawk sporting Nate and long-john attired Scotty, while each crooned on about his khram and tried to make passes at Josh with Nath looking on…

Waking with “cleared” heads on Day 3, Sunday, Robb led up the aesthetic WI4 spotted the day before, running it out about 45′ after the last screw due to shitty ice, and then nearly pitching off the top while talking with bystanders on the bridge during the top-out.  He also had managed to nearly drop his ice tool on his belayer earlier in the climb when he left it in the ice (leashless) while clipping a sling, but was lucky enough to be quick and catch the thing before it fell out of reach.  Hmm… intelligent guy, eh?  Better lucky than good I guess…

Josh was next to lead the pitch, and so Nath lowered down to belay.  Josh, who only started ice climbing two days before and had yet to really set an ice screw, was about to strike out on a heady WI4 with dinner-plating ice, and a large audience watching from the bridge directly above.  Luckily he kept up his reputation for having a strong lead head, and pushed through, despite the white, cracked, dinner-plating shit ice around his last screws which were still a good 40′ from the top.  As a bystander said when he heard what we’d encouraged Josh to do as his first lead, “what are friends for, eh?”

Nate was so inspired by Josh’s performance that he promptly wet his pants and set off to lead the kiddy wall instead, where his shorts began to take on the appearance of a cesspool as the low-angle wall also began dinner-plating.     Scotty ragged on him to continue however, and Nate managed to get his first ice lead in tandem with the neighboring tots who were still toting diapers and pacifiers.  Scotty, inspired by Nate’s performance on the toddler wall, decided that he’d rather keeps his shorts clean and just return to the TR wall instead of jumping out on the sharp end.  He at least redeemed himself a little here, however, as he found a great location to demonstrate his hardheadedness while dodging a storm of ice chunks sent down by a neighboring group.  The rest of us followed in suit, enjoying one long and sustained 150′ pitch to finish off the weekend.  We left Ouray that afternoon, and 14.5 hours later were greeted once again by San Diego rush hour traffic… what the hell are we doing down here?  Let’s get back to the land of snow and ice…

Attendees:

Lin
Dan
Alban
Brent
Nate
Ed
Kostas
Konstantin
Charles

Every Wednesday at 4:30 sharp. RSVP by noon on Wednesday or you will not participate.

 

Warm-up:
40 x jumping lunge
40 x air squat
30 x push-up
30 x atomic sit-up
30 x leg lift
2 x indian-run on track

Station 1:
4 rounds of
5 x hang-clean/lunge/push-press combo
1 x modified fleshstorm

Station 2:
4 rounds of
20 x step-up on box with rock (10 each leg)
10 x KB slash-to-halo + 10 x weighted sit-up (with KB)

Station 3:
4 rounds of
2 min tire fight
1 min rest

Bonus: Rock relay

Attendees:

Charles
Shay
Kostas
Nate
Konstantin
Ed

Comment: Step-up with the rock is killer. Expect more of those in the future.

I had wanted to do the Blitzen ridge as a summer rock solo since I got to Colorado. Unlike the Sierras, Rocky Mountain National Park has almost no long and exposed rock ridges, except for the Blitzen Ridge.

I missed my opportunity in summer and fall to climb this classic, but winter is no excuse to stop pulling hard. So with a weather window in the forecast, I shot the idea to Buster about getting on the Blitzen Ridge. 4 days later we were sorting gear in my living room. The next morning we headed out from Boulder around 8am, and pulled into the Northeast entrace of Rocky Mountain National Park around 10am, with the massive east cirque of Mt. Ypsilon (13,514) greeting us from afar. We hiked/snow shoed about 4.5 miles to Ypsilon lake, set up camp, kicked steps to the base of the ridge for some recon, and then hiked to the base of the descent to stash our snowshoes so we wouldn’t have to posthole our way through the forest after the climb.

The next morning we started hiking around 7am and got to the base of the technical business around 830am. We carried one 8mm rope, a single rack with 3 knifeblades, crampons, climbing axes, and rock shoes. After a very short discussion, we decided to go as long as possible in our boots and not break out the gear.

2 hours later, we had surmounted the 4 technical towers on the ridge (the 4 aces), sans rope, and had only put on our rock shoes for about 100 feet which, in retrospect, was not even the hardest part of the climb.

Then came the 1000 feet (read: fuckin’ endless) of 4th/low 5th class rock and snow to the summit. The top greeted us with sustained 25-35 mph wind, which was responsible for the huge cornice on top of the east face and the relatively dry summit plateau.

We traversed the summit plateau and downclimbed the other mile long ridge (donner ridge, 3rd class), hoping to drop into a notch and down a gully to our stashed snowshoes.

But we screwed up somewhere and ended up having to make one short rappel off a piton and a nut to avoid a sketchy snow downclimb.

This horrible mistake ruined our plan of making it back to Boulder in time for happy hour at the Southern Sun (4-6pm every day), but justified the 30+ pounds of gear we carried on the entire climb.

We encountered climbing up to about 5.8 on the ridge and took 5.5 hours from camp to summit, with another 3 hours to descend. We could not find any record of this route being done in winter, although the guidebook states that the ridge, “has been the scene of some classic winter ascents.” P=G!

Warm-up: lunges, air squats, push-ups, leg lifts, atomic sit-ups

Station 1:
3 rounds of
1 x modified fleshstorm
15 x box jump with biscuit
20 x thruster with dumbbell

Station 2:
5 rounds of
1 x bucket carry (let buckets down half-way, do 5 x hang-clean with barbell)
20 x tire-hit with sledgehammer (10 each arm)
3 x rock carry (rocks of increasing weight)

Station 3:
5 rounds of
1 x south-of-heaven (heavy)
15 x KB swing + 10 x weighted sit-up (with KB)
20 x ab roller

Station 4:
5 rounds of
7 x tire flip
10 x ring push-up
8 x pull-up

Attendees:

Charles
Shay
Kostas
Konstantin
Ed
Albert
Josh
Natalie
Joanna
Reid
Liz

Comment: I got complaints about the duration of this work-out. That’s the whole point. Grind through everything. I will make it longer next time.

Station 1:
Heavy KB Swing x 30
Ab Roller x 15
Flesh Storm
Pushups x 15

Station 2:
Goblet Squats x 20
Push Press x 20
Tire Flip x 20

Station 3:
Box Jumps x 20
Rock Carry
Burpees x 15
Bucket Carry

Station 4:
Six rounds of:
5 pullups
5 atomic pushups

That night we were greeted by Cindy, an American mountain guide, mother of 2, and CFO of Homero’s climber ranch. Homero is a classic Ranchero who owns a ranch just outside of Potrero Chico, and under the tutelage of Cindy, has turned his ranch into a diirtbag-friendly five star resort, complete with communal kitchen, bathrooms, campsites, and hot showers.

There is also Homero’s Restaurante, with head chef Milton, who makes the best bacon cheeseburgers south of the border. We opted for the weekly special, which includes fresh cooked breakfast and dinner, and 7 nights of camping for $75/person.

That evening, as I ate my cheeseburger and Mexican cheesy fries and sipped my 30oz Tecate, I reflected on how this trip had come together. After stopping at El Potrero briefly in August on my way down to Costa Rica with Jack, I decided that I must come back when the temps were a bit cooler so I could crank some long sport routes. After getting hit by a car in early November I worried that my winter mountaineering season might be shot (I am 100% better just 2 months later), so I figured that a nice easy sport climbing trip in a warm climate was in order. About a month ago I began scrambling to assemble a crew and a vehicle to get down to Mexico. I tried luring Buster with promises of clip-and-go alpine glory, but he seemed uninterested. The only person who was as gung-ho as me, was my roommate Pete. I taught Pete to climb just 2 months ago and he was leading 5.10 his first night at the gym. Now the only issue was finding a car. With just 2 weeks to go before my planned departure date, Buster said he wanted to go and agreed to take his dad’s mini-van. Now the crew was complete. Me, the brains of the operation, Buster the ropegun, Pete the natural, and his partner-in-extreme-unicycling, Jeff aka “El Jeffe.”

After about 50oz of beer, Buster casually threw out the idea of getting on the longest sport route in El Potrero Chico, Time Wave Zero–5.12a, 23 pitches, 2100 feet. This was the route I had promised Pete I would do with him as the culmination to our trip, but I quickly decided that it would be wiser to do it with Buster the ropegun first.

The next morning we woke up around sunrise and strolled down to the restaurante, which serves breakfast around 8am, not ideal for an extreme alpine start, but good enough for the “Mexican Alpine start.(MAS)” After downing some breakfast burritos, we assembled our quiver of gear: 70m rope, 14 quick draws, 2 pre-made sliding X’s for anchors, 1 grigri, 1 ATC guide, and a follower pack with winbreakers, 3 liters of water, 600 calories of Gu, and a small digital camera.

This was pure vacation climbing. Our plan to make good time up the route was to link all pitches rated less than 5.10, but instead of taking extra quickdraws, we just planned on skipping bolts. We also decided to lead in blocks rather than swing leads, which helps maintain the mental flow required for fast leading, and allows the leader a rest rather than starting immediately after seconding. Most of the climbing on the route is 5.9 to 5.10-. Buster lead the 2nd pitch which is about 5.11- and neither of us weighted the rope until pitch 20, which is rated 5.10d, but we both agreed was harder than the 5.11 pitch. I was pumped, and in the interest of time, lowered off the 3rd bolt of this pitch and let Buster send it in style. The 5.12a comes at pitch 20 and most people simply French free, but Buster took it head on and got through it with 2 falls. After 8 hours of climbing, the summit of Time Wave Zero was ours. We simul-rappelled the entire route in 4 hours and made it back to camp in time for dinner, clocking in at 13 hours round trip, Homero’s 2 Homero’s (H2H).

El Potrero Chico means “The little corral.” Various geological forces conspired to form The Potrero. The area surrounding the industrial city of Monterey was once submerged below the sea. Plate tectonics folded a ring of ocean floor upward. The weaker rock in the center of the ring eroded at a faster rate than the ring of uplift itself, and as the sea level dropped, the water drained through a narrow slot on the ring’s northern end leaving drastically exposed limestone rock walls and an impenetrable–save for the drainage–cirque of madly vegetated mountains.

In order to pass through the drainage itself and enter The Potrero proper, one must pass Noberto the gatekeeper. The official take on Noberto’s role is as follows. Much of the area inside the Potrero is a “protected zone” (NOT a national park), a legal classification of little actual consequence. After the Mexican Revolution of 1910, the land within the park was divided amongst the townspeople as per the Ejido system. This means that the town Ejido commission currently owns and controls 99% of the climbing, and according to head chef Milton, has appointed Noberto as the gatekeeper responsible for collecting the hefty sum of 10 pesos (currently about 70 cents) from each person who wishes to pass over the cattle guard and into the Potrero. To ensure that a would be Potrero-goer pays the sum, Noberto has set up a small trailer next to the cattle guard and a fence spanning the roughly hundred meter opening of the Potrero drainage. He is usually laying down inside the trailer reading porn, waiting for people to come by. There is a small sliding window in the trailer through which he can mumble at people and collect the entrance fee, which I speculate goes towards porn and booze. I payed Noberto 2 out of the 7 days we were there and the other days we sneaked through the bushes while Noberto called us “bendejos” and threatened to call the police.
The climbing in el Potrero Chico is all on hard and often sharp limestone. Most of the long routes climb through sections of slab where the first ascentionists must have had a very fun (read: punishment = glory) time clearing the most unfriendly vegetation one can imagine, from death Yuccas to horrific cacti.

There are several overhanging areas where the rock is naturally clear of vegetation and often featured with tufas, most notably the Outrage Wall and the Surf Bowl, both home to many hard sport routes in the 5.11+ to 5.13+ range. If you are looking for pristine backcountry climbing complete with solitude and quiet, Potrero no bueno mang! As with the rest of populated Mexico, there is trash everywhere. While climbing Space Boyz (5.10d, 11 pitches) on New Years Day, Buster and I were forced to listen to shitty Mexican quasi-polka music blasting from car speakers below and the sound of some asswipe throwing firecrackers off the opposing walls. Luckily Space Boyz was one of the most quality sport routes I have ever climbed. The 5.10d crux pitch feels like something out of the high Sierra and could probably be climbed completely on gear.

Space Bpyz went down in under 5 hours H2H, and helped get rid of the massive hangover incurred during the previous evening’s festivities. New Years Eve at Homeros was a fuckin’ shitshow…Mexican stylie! For ten dollars I got four 30oz beers, a fresh pork roast dinner, and unlimited rides on the electric bull…yes, the electric bull. Then came the horrible trance music provided by DJ Mang. 1am saw me stumbling around camp smoking too much until I finally crawled into my tent and stuffed in my earplugs. Props go to Pete for successfully riding his unicycle through the raging bonfire, onsight. He then tried to repeat this feat for Buster’s camera and fell into the fire causing him to climb with bandages and Neosporin the rest of the trip.
The people staying at Homero’s ran the gamut from Boulder extreme-hippie to smelly Euros (they all smell funny), a couple of pros, and some local Mexicanos on vacation enjoying the slightly less dirty reprise from the big Mexican cities. The weather was perfect, with daytime temps around 70-80 degrees and cooler night breezes, making climbing in the shade ideal.
Other climbing highlights from the trip included running a 3-man team (me, Pete, and Buster) up Yankee Clipper (5.12c, 15 pitches), Buster redpointing a couple of 5.12’s, and a final-day ascent of Satori (5.10c, 7 pitches), which Pete and I climbed swinging leads, and Pete onsighting 5.10-, 5 pitches up after climbing for less than 3 months.
I think that a Potrero trip should become an annual New Years tradition, and I personally plan on heading back next year, and encourage my friends to jump on board. Its cheap, its glorious, its Mexico baby!
Check out this awesome compilation video Buster put together:

Also check out my new photo website: http://www.mountainroadphotography.com/
you can view all the pics from our trip under the climbing section

More of last week’s work-out with some modifications. A new kettlebell (24kg) and a sledgehammer have been acquired through the newly created WYW fund.

Warm-up:
3 min stretching
20 x push-up
40 x air-squat
20 x leg-lift sequence
40 x lunge
20 x back hyper-extension

Station 1:
3 rounds of
20 x standing barbell row
20 x kettle bell swing
10 x tire flip

Station 2:
3 rounds of
1 x flesh storm
15 x box jump with biscuit
15 x thruster with dumbbell

Station 3:
3 rounds of
3 x rock carry
30 x tire smash
1 x bucket carry

Station 4:
5 rounds of
sprint, light pole to light pole, each person runs 8 times, while one person waits at each pole.

Attendees:

Charles
Shay
Kostas
Colin
Dan
Konstantin
Shayda
Ed
Lin
Colin
Jason
Robert

Comment: WYW will be closing for the holidays. We will resume January 7th.

 

WORK:

Station 1 – three rounds

Sled cross overs, 16 reps (8 each way).  Pull sled by side stepping and pulling the rope across your chest, repeat.

Standing barbell row, 2 sets of 15 with 20 count plank rest between sets

Simultaneous kettle bell swings with 25 and 35 lb kettle bell, 10 reps then switch kettle bells/arms

Station 2 – three rounds

Flesh Storm

Box Jumps with biscuit/dumbell in hands,  15 reps

Thrusters with heavy or light bucket,  20 reps

Station 3 – two rounds

Team up and carry the 350 pound tire around the track.

Station 4 – three rounds

Sprints, relay style: light pole to light pole, each person runs 8 times, while a person waits at each pole.  One person is running at all times.

Be there at 4:30 sharp and make sure to RSVP by 12:00pm on Wednesday or else Kostas the Barbarian will kick your fucking ass.

 

Station 1:
5 rounds of
10 x ring push-up
10 x knees-to-elbows

Station 2:
5 rounds of
Barbell complex
10 x tire-flip

Station 3:
5 rounds of
Bucket carry
10 x weighted sit-up

Greek bonus:
100 x burpee

1. A barbell complex is (don’t let the bar down!) :
3 x deadlift
3 x bent-over row
3 x hang-clean
3 x front squat
3 x push-press
3 x back squat

Attendees:

Nate
Shay
Kostas
Colin
Dan
Konstantin
Shayda
Ed

Comment: We want to buy a heavier kettlebell. If you want to contribute, bring $5 each at the next work-out.

 

An exercise is performed for an extended number of rounds at a relatively heavy load, with limited rest.

10 rounds of each of the following exercises:

1/2 Fleshstorm (sprint to the fire-hydrant, walk back)
Bucket Carry (regular)
Barbell complex (see below, pick appropriate weight)
Pull-ups (pick appropriate number)

1. Teams of two, rest while your partner does the exercise. (For the fleshstorm, the rest is walking back.)
2. A barbell complex is (don’t let the bar down!) :
3 x deadlift
3 x bent-over row
3 x hang-clean
3 x front squat
3 x back squat
3. Pull-ups are timed. 1 round is 1min. Both you and your partner should do the reps within the minute.

Attendees:

Nate
Shay
Kostas
Lin
Colin
Dan
Konstantin
Shayda

Comment: The RSVP time limit for the work-out is 12pm on Wednesday. A reminder is sent out on Tuesday. If you don’t reply in time, you are not taken into account in the work-out. Simple as that. You may show up but you are on your own.

 

Warm-up run, 10min.

Three circuits, each circuit for time. Rest between circuits as necessary. Two rounds.

Circuit One:
10 x man maker
20 x box jump
1 x bucket carry

Circuit Two:
10 x hang-clean and press
15 x tire flip
15 x pull-up

Circuit Three:
20 x goblet squat with KB
1 x flesh storm
20 x push-up

Attendees and times:
Kostas        C1: 2:35,3:23   C2: 2:46,3:21   C3: 1:46,1:47 (bar+80lbs HC&P)
Shay          C1: 2:20,N/A   C2: 3:21,N/A   C3: 2:11,N/A   (bar+70lbs HC&P)
Lin             C1: 5:17,4:33   C2: 5:29,6:15   C3: 3:46,3:21 (bar+50lbs,40lbs HC&P, 25lbs KB C3,R2)
Colin          C1: 5:05,4:02   C2: 3:32,5:19   C3:3:12/2:37 (-10lbs for FleshStorm R2, bar+60lbs HC&P)
Konstantin   C1: 3:10,3:23   C2: 2:57,4:15   C3: 2:37,2:25 (bar+70lbs HC&P)
Shayda       C1: 3:46,N/A   C2: 4:06,N/A   C3:3:43,3:09 (-10lbs for FleshStorm, ? HC&P)

 

1) Bench press to maximum (Nate: #225, Dan: #275)

2) Deadlift to maximum (Nate: #425, Dan: #365)

3) Five rounds of:
5x Power cleans, increasing up to #175
7x Military/Push Press #115
5x Weighted Pullups +#35

Notes: Nate PR on deadlift at 2.43 times bodyweight

While Front Range Colorado has been drifting between crisp autumn days and warm remnants of summer, the high country now bares the frosty harbinger of winter. From my house I can see a select number of mountains from Mt. Evans, to the Indian Peaks, and finally Longs Peak, the northernmost 14er in Colorado. Longs is massive in its own right, but it is a giant amongst the other peaks in Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP). Relative to the larger mountains in the southern scope of my view, Longs appears bone dry, but its North Face, sunken gullies, and culoirs, have begun to sprout the winter crop. Longs goes from summer playground to winter testing ground…just add water. 2 days after the email, Buster was at my house, and we were packing our bags. We drove to the trailhead and slept by the car. My phone woke us up at 355am. We brewed some hot drink and started making tracks at 445am. The moon was about 80% full, making headlamps unnecessary. After an hour we were above treeline and as first light silently rumbled in the eastern sky, we gained our first full view of the Longs/Meeker Peak Cirque. The east side, from Chasm View to The Loft, glowed under the high moon. I looked at the mountain differently than I had the first time when I climbed it via the Notch Culoir. I saw it as something I knew intimately. I looked up at the moon and wondered if those who have walked on the moon can look up from anywhere in the world, and really know what they are looking at.
The first 1000 feet of The Flying Dutchman is a steep snow climb, and the snow was shit. In the mountains there are many types of snow that mean many different things to the mountaineer, and like the Eskimos and other people of the North Country, there are many names for snow. I am not sure what the snow on TFD was called, but it gave way underfoot with the ease of a sugarcube, so the going was laborious. After about 30 minutes we reached the crux, and in fact the only technical section of the route, where 60 degree water/alpine ice glazes over a steep section in the culoir. I halfheartedly mentioned to Buster that we should just solo the thing, since it was only about 50 feet tall, and he quickly agreed before I had time to retract my statement. While one could easily lead this pitch on either the right or left side placing rock pro, Buster charged up the completely iced over center, and I followed suit.

The Flying Dutchman is grade II, and the ice was about WI3-. Kiener’s route is grade III and low 5th class when dry, but offered exciting mixed terrain with ample dry tooling. c2c, the whole trip took us 13 hours, with an hour break before the Flying Dutchman to eat some food, get suited up, and drop a duece. P=G, get ready for winter!

Warm-up run and stretching, 15 minutes.

Five stations. Each station is done 4 rounds before switching to the next. No standing around.

Station One:
10 tire flips
36lb KB swings until your partner finishes the tire flips

Station Two:
10 Burpees
Flesh Storm

Station Three:
6x Heavy Standing Shoulder Press (devolve into push-press if necessary)
Bucket Carry

Station Four:
10 Knees-to-Elbows
15 ring-pushups

Station Five:
Partner Carry and 5 Squats

Attendees:

Charles
Nate
Kostas
Jason
Dan
Lin
Colin
Ben
Ed

Some comments:

- There is a mailing list for RSVPing by Tuesday night, whether you will attend or not. Only reply if YOU KNOW YOU WILL BE THERE. The work-out is planned based on your participation. Don’t fuck up.
- If you want to become a member of the list, send an email to lollipop
- We’ ve been slack with respect to the starting time of the work-out. The warm-up run starts at 4:45pm exactly. Get here at 4:30pm if you want to warm up some more by carrying stuff around.

East Face of Tyndall: any takers this winter?

The Work-Out

Warm-up run and stretching, 15 minutes.

Four stations. Each station is done 5 rounds before switching to the next. No standing around.

Station One:
10 tire flips
36lb KB swings until your partner finishes the tire flips

Station Two:
15 box jumps
Flesh Storm

Station Three:
7x Standing Shoulder Press (devolve into push-press if necessary) (90lbs + bar)
Bucket Carry

Station Four:
8 pullups
15 ring-pushups

We start at 4:30, sharp.

 

The police intervened yet again because one of our crotchety old neighbors is too lame to just ask us to turn down the music.  The police’s response:  “well, it’s not quiet hours, so you can pretty much do whatever you want”.  Damn right.  And we’ll keep doing it in the future.

The Work-Out

Warm-up run and stretching, 15 minutes.

Five stations. Each station is done 7 rounds before switching to the next. No standing around.

Station One:
5 tire flips
10 inverted rows on the rings

Station Two:
10 box jumps
10 thrusters with 70 lbs on the bar (less if you’re weak)

Station Three:
15 pushups
15 kettlebell swings

Station Four:
15 ab-rollers
15x spin-the-biscuit

Station Five: (only three rounds)
Flesh Storm
Bucket Carry

We start at 4:30, sharp.

 

Here are the rules:
1. At least one person has to send each route.
2. You have to give maximal effort and try at least 5 times, then you yell “BLITZKRIEG!” and run off to the next route.
3. Downclimbs don’t count.

So it’s probably easier to actually send the routes than to be the guy who has to thrash ’til he’s destroyed.

We started on the warmup boulders, quickly cranking out 8 routes, then worked our way up the hill. Along the way we managed to tick all the hard cracks I’ve ever done out there:

• Aids Victim
• Hear my train a-comin
• Driving South
• California Night
• Mother Superior

Super stoked about that! We completely demolished ourselves on the Blasted Boulder for route #30, but didn’t get it, though Ben came tantalizingly close twice. So instead of our climactic finish we had to console ourselves with some lame mantel.

DEE-STROYED

The next day we woke up 4 AM to attempt the Harding Route on Mt. Conness.  Unfortunately we botched the approach, and it took 6 hours instead of the typical 4.  When we arrived at the notch we found a party just starting up the route.  So as a consolation prize we ran over and simul-climbed the West Ridge (III 5.6), which is a really fun easy route. I think total time on the route was about 3 hours.

After topping out we decided that we REALLY wanted to do the Harding Route, so we decided to stash our gear and return the next day.  Ugh.  We got back to camp about 9 PM, chowed some dinner and PTFO.

Next morning we were up at 4 AM yet again, and slogging up the now familiar approach.  This time we nailed it, and by 10:30 AM we were starting up the Harding Route with no one else around (it was Sunday).

The Harding Route was cool, i found the 10c crux on P2 not too bad — just 20 feet or so of green camalots.  On the other hand P4 was a pretty tough 5.10a OW — I thought more difficult than the OW cruxes on Keeler Needle.  You really need a #5 Camalot to walk through this pitch, since the old bolts are terrible and would not hold a fall.

We topped out about 7 PM, and it was getting pretty chilly.  We got a bit lost on the descent and made it back to the car about 10:30 PM, exhausted.  We took a short nap, and started driving back at 12:15 AM.  With 1 stop at Denny’s (24 hours!), and some gnarly traffic in Escondido, we made it back to San Diego at 9 AM, and Lin barely made it into work by 10 AM for her appointment with the DEA.

 

The Work-Out:

Warm-up jog from Nate’s to Rimac.

Five rounds of barbell complex  (six reps each in succession of deadlift, bent row, hang clean, front squat, push press, back squat, pushups on the bar)

30 man-makers (10 x 15 lbs; 10 x 20 lbs; 10 x 25 lbs)

Squat Cleans until I couldn’t do any more.

Three rounds of:
Decline medicine ball situps: 20 reps
Dips: 10 reps

Cool down run back to Nate’s from Rimac.

So what do you say boys?  By next Wednesday, try to grow a pair.  And if you can’t, I’ll loan you mine.

Get the topo here.

For more information including approach beta, see the summitpost page.

Route Description

• P1 (5.7R): Climb the dike up the pedestal angling up and right toward a bush then follow the ramp up and left. At the top of the pedestal (sling horn for pro) traverse left into a left-facing corner that angles up and right. From here traverse right into a smaller ramp and head out across the face to a discontinuous dike that leads to a mantle then a roof and a belay. 50M.

• P2 (5.10a): Climb up and right passing 4 bolts then get into the right facing corner. Climb this until it ends and move up and left passing a bolt then angling right toward a prominent ledge. 40M.

• P3 (5.10c): Amazing climbing follows the Super Dike. 55M.

• P4 (5.10c): Follow the Super Dike past a bush while doing some killer climbing along the way. 50M.

• P5 (5.10c): Continue on the Super Dike past 4 bolts into the ”Sea of Knobs” where the climbing becomes very easy. Look for the a 3 bolt anchor. This is where MSMR crosses Land of Little Rain (40M).

• P6 (5.4 X): AMAZING climbing (no protection) leads up and right through the ”Sea of Knobs” to a prominent bush and a 2 bolt rap station (35M).

If you are going to the summit, follow the Summer Ridge up and left.
Alternatively, from the top of P5 follow Land of Little Rain by going straight up and slightly left to a broken roof where a large crack will take you almost to the Summer Ridge (60M).

Follow the ridge and jump on the Direct South Face Route (Beckey Route)
to go to the summit. Otherwise, 2 ropes (60M) allow you to rap the MSMR
from the bush back down to the notch.

Sick Dike Climbing Photos:

Charles cruising up the unbelievably continuous P4

Scotty making the first redpoint of P5

Nate getting into the runout on P1

Scotty cruises P4

Charles making the first funky moves on P5

Dike pinching and slabbing, fuck yeah!

Exercises:

Box jumps
Flesh Storm
Crabwalk with 20 lb. dumbbells in each hand
Clean and Press with 35lb kettle bell x 20
10 Tire Flips
Buckets

Oh ya we had a plank-off for extra credit:
Kostas wins with 4.18
Charles second place with (4.17)
I forget who was third (post up).

Participants:

Nate
Shay
Kostas
Noel
Lin
Charles
Jason
Ben

See you next week at 4:30pm.

The team was as follows, Shay and I would swap leads all the way up, Ben Cohen would provide ground support keeping a watchful eye from other various walls in the valley, and the Ukulele would provide morale while we climbed. The target… the 3000 ft shear granite wall which stood proudly over the surrounding monuments of nature, known by Native Americans as “To-tock-ah-noo-lah” meaning “the Chief”, this was the captain, or… “El Capitan”! Once thought of as “the impossible climb” the route has become one of the most well known symbols of “big wall” climbing. The first ascent by the visionary Warren Harding et al. entailed 47 days of intense climbing over a period of 18 months, literally into the unknown. Now well established, and with modern gear the route would take us just over 3 days, but these three days were to be filled with some of the most mentally and physically grueling experiences of my life, and worst of all, unknown to us the whole thing would be on display for the crowds below via high powered telescopes.

Exhaustion settled in early on the wall. After passing the “Gate Keeper-esq” lower 4 pitches of climbing our tender hands were scorn with the beginning signs of manliness, the hard granite rock polishing away our preconceptions and notions of glory. It quickly became clear that our misplaced belief in our climbing physical superiority were absolutely ridiculous in the face of this monster rock. Reaching “Dolt tower” at around 6pm the daunting task began to set in.

“this is the point where most parties bail right?” I asked Shay as he came up to the belay.

“yeah….” Shay replied between heavy breaths.

“…. I get it!” was my only response, then we pushed on.

At around 9:30 pm we reached our first “camp” a medium sized ledge at the top of a jutting formation known as “El Cap Tower” about 1/3rd of the way up the face. We quickly forced ourselves to eat some caned food and take a few gulps of precious water, then carefully positioned ourselves on the precarious camp for a few hours of sleep before the whole suffering would begin again.

The morning came with dreadful anticipation at 7 am. On the wall you pack out EVERYTHING that you take up. Furthermore there is nowhere to hide for any thing you have to do… there just aren’t a lot of discrete places you can take care of “business”. But who really cares, its just your climbing partner who has to suffer through the awkward moments of natural body functions right? Wrong! Later we learned that over the course of 3 days some 100+ tourists took turns from the valley floor watching the ENTIRE experience through the lens of a high powered telescope… c’est la vie. After a quick song on the ukulele we started what would be a 19+ hour day of constant climbing.

Shay moved confidently up the scary chimney behind the feature known as the “Texas flake”, then I went up the back of the large boot like formation to the bolts where Shay would have to lower almost a full rope length then start swinging back and fourth in the infamous section known as the “King Swing” pitch. Here he would have to run back and fourth (while hanging sideways) at full speed along the vertical wall then at the perfect moment dive for a tiny crack on the far left of our position and try to start climbing it before being pulled back by the weight of gravity and the ropes which pulled backwards at a 45 deg angle. We sat at the top of the boot for a few moments, exchanging gear, trying to prepare mentally for the inevitable task which lay in front. Emotions ran high, and im not sure what happened up there, but … it was later told to us that from the ground a group of 30 some tourists had been watching through the scope and on one occasion a young woman from Japan declared,

“I think… yes… THEIR HOLDING HANDS!!!”

Which was followed by another comment from another onlooker,

“do you think they will kiss next?!?”

Although I hold strong to my original statement that we were exchanging gear and NOT holding hands, who knows… we were scared out of minds, and thinking of our “mommies” and maybe some tearful hand holding slipped in.

After an INCREDIBLE diving catch (preceded by a hilarious tumbling failure) Shay pulled us through the King Swing on his SECOND TRY!

It was late in the day due to some shinanigans with a stuck rope and as night began to fall I moved slowly up the “Great Roof”. This impressive expanding feature juts out of the wall with an arching grace resembling the beautiful mural covered ceilings of the many Renaissance Churches which pepper the ancient cities of old. Once the gate keeper of the “Free Nose” (doing the climb without ‘aid gear’) Lynn Hill was the first person (man or woman) to complete this section “clean” in 1993, a feat which afterwards remained unrepeated for over 10 years. I on the other hand did what EVERYone else does (with the exception of 3 others in the world) and took advantage of the numerous fixed pitons and nuts to ungracefully yank my way up the section. Regardless by 10:30pm I was at the top of the roof, that was when I heard,

“SHIT!!!!!”

I looked down with fearful anticipation, ” WHAT!?!?!”, I yelled.

“i read the topo wrong… we have 2 more pitches to climb before ‘camp V’…” Shay stated in a defeated monotone voice…

We had no choice, the only way down was up… and we pushed on till 2:30 am to get to our tiny hanging camp 2/3rds of the way up. We forced some food down, rapped some rope loops around our legs, cinched up our anchor points and fell asleep on our downward/outward sloping 3ft by 10 ft ledge.

The final morning began at 7:30 am, this is when something great happened. While digging to the bottom of the haul bag we came across an entire extra GALLON of water that we had forgotten about!!! This meant no more drinking NASTY MOLD FILLED water that we found lying around in sun bleached coke bottles at the sides of random belays. With another, happier song on the Uke we moved forward for the final push. Shay moved up the “Changing Corners” section quickly as I sat below at the belay looking at the sprawling valley below. Tiny cars drove along the road, a helicopter flew far below, and people peered up as I unabashedly relieved myself over the edge of the 3000 foot cliff. Then out of nowhere…..

“FALLING!!!!!”

Before I could do anything the rope was taught and yanking me up the anchor. I looked up, heart pounding to see Shay hanging upside down about 100 ft up, gear clinking back and fourth.

“ARE YOU OK!??!”, I screamed.

“I think so…, I just took a 25ft fall…” he stated in a dazzled voice… then he righted himself, looked down at me and said… “what do you do when you fall of the horse?… you get BACK ON!!!” and he jugged up the rope and got right back into the tiny aid crack which lead up and out of view. In a crackly voice he asked me to “sing him a song” then pushed through to the top of the pitch (where we might have held hands again).

What had happened was that a tiny DMM offset Nut, which he was weighting with a full high step on the etriers (ladder like webbing), blew out of the granite unexpectedly sending him on a heart stopping ride. Regardless he jumped right back on and pushed through.

We climbed hard that last day, leaving everything left in us on the rock. At 10:30 pm with crackling shouts of glory and tears in each of our eyes we found ourselves at the top of EL CAP!!! Yet the initial glory was quickly replaced with the crashing reality of what had just taken place…. we were defeated… even though we had gotten to the top, every inch of our bodies were destroyed. I’m still not sure if we climbed El Cap or if El Cap climbed us, but one thing is for sure… a mountain like that injects humility into your every bone…

Yet after half an hours rest, and next to a small campfire on the summit, humility gave way to glory again and we sat basking in the revelation of our greatest achievement to date. The ukulele was engaged as we reflected on the three days past, we had climbed 31 pitches, slept for a combined total of 14 hours, and lost 6 pounds in weight each over 3 days… Surely Micheal Phelps could kiss our asses now!

A Tribute to Michael Phelps…

* Text written by Albert Yu-Min Lin

 

The Workout:
Two rounds of light barbell complex (we want to warm up, not make this half the workout)
Barbell Complex: six reps each in succession of deadlift, bent row, hang clean, front squat, push press, back squat, pushups on the bar.

Bench Press: 4-5 sets working up to maximum (Nate: #235, Dan: #265, Lin: #75)

Six rounds of:
Squat Cleans: 5 reps (raise weight each round)
Push Press: 7 reps
Bench Press: 5 reps (75% of max)

Optional: set or two of super-slow (8 second) pullups

Three rounds of:
Decline medicine ball situps: 20 reps
Dips: 10 reps

We awoke Sunday morning at 4:30 and made the rest of the trek back to the North Face of Mt. Russell. I had a bit of altitude sickness, which added to the “fun.” Maybe choosing a name is bad luck before you climb it, but we had decided on The Nelson/Pearson Direct. When we got to the climb, I realized the line was not direct at all and there was some hesitation and talk about calling it the Nelson/Pearson Indirect.

Eventually we started the climb. Scotty led the first pitch which was pretty easy ground, albeit loose and scary. I led the second pitch, the start of the endless traversing. Scotty said that I seemed more comfortable on the loose stuff than he does, which I still haven’t decided whether that’s a good or a bad thing. The second pitch was a really fun traversing pitch, following the most obvious lines on the way to the first main objective, the pillar. After the second pitch it was an easy pitch up the ramp to the pillar.

I lucked out and got to lead the fourth pitch, which turned out to be one of the crux pitches. It starts out with an almost vertical hand crack, that honestly must have been made for me (i.e. woohoo red cams!). This led to an insanely exposed hand rail traverse that went on for days, and ended with some thin, heady face moves around a corner. This pitch was more exposed than a Polaroid picture!! And I am sure I was shaking more than one too!! When Scotty got to the belay he exclaimed that it was one of the best pitches he had ever done in the Sierras. Unfortunately we don’t have many good pictures of this pitch because I had the camera with me. Oops.

Pitches 5-8 are all easy ground, following the ramp, which can and should be simul climbed. Originally we were going to stop on the ramp and head up towards a dihedral, but when we got there it looked chossy and it didn’t seem like it would go. So, we continued along the ramp. I’m glad we did because it ended up leading to another highlight of the climb: a great crack system including a section with double cracks. Really fun climbing with good pro. The tenth pitch went up what I thought was an incredibly awkward short off-width in a corner. Scotty walked up it of course, and I flailed up it after contemplating bypassing it by climbing on the face to the right (I still think this would go and would probably be easier).

Then it was easy ground to the top! Hooray! It was a really cool experience for me to the lead the last pitch and belay up Scotty while sitting on the ridge. What a view! So, it ended up being a really fun route with some amazing exposed sections, that basically traversed the whole north face. We topped out, hiked back out that day, then drove back to San Diego that night, and I was subsequently sore for 4 days after we got back. It was completely worth it. I finally got to be a part of the pullharder FA club, and I got to do it with my babe (Awwww).

 

On Saturday we finished hiking up the amazing Cleaver Valley.  Shay and Andre decided to gun for a route on Carillon while Lin and I decided to free Cleavage Dreamer (III 5.10 A1), recently established by a young Greco-American team.

After establishing basecamp below the Cleaver, we started up.

Pitch 1 was a bit grainy, but established us on on a ledge above the “big flakes”.

Pitch 2 was short, up the thin 5.9 hand crack (variation to the orig. route), to a ledge.

Pitch 3 started with a short downclimb, then climbs up and left on great handcracks to about 20 feet below the Greek Finger.

Pitch 4 climbs up the Greek Finger, then surmounts the crux groove.  This section protects well with small TCUs and offset nuts, and features intriguing butterfly gastons and heel-toe jams.  The 200′ pitch finishes over a roof and ends on a spacious ledge.

Pitch 5 was the bitch pitch.  After hearing the original exit was 5.10 loose/scary, we tried to pioneer a new exit by staying left.  Ours was also loose/scary and cannot be recommended either.

Popping out on the summit ridge of the Cleaver, we found a Death Sling which the Greco-American team had apparently used to rappel off the back side (*shudder*).  After installing a Life Sling, we too rappeled off the back side and made our victory march back down to camp.

Shay and Andre made it back to camp quite late, after a brilliant ascent.  Lindsey had the good idea to “leave the lights on” for them, and this helped them navigate back to camp.

The next day was crummy weather so we bailed.

 

4 rounds, 1 minute at each station, 2 minute rest between stations.

Stations (1 minute ea.):

• suspended reverse rows

• suspended pushups

• offset pullups, using knotted rope

• situps on the big fucking tire (BFT) with the Heart of Stone

• Flesh Storm (for good measure)

• thrusters (with a shit load of weight, how much was that?)

• two handed kettle bell swings with 35lbs.

Participants:

Dima
Nate
Jason
Dan
Andre
Jonas
Charles

Seriously get their on time no later than 4:45. If you have input for the workout get there at 4:30 otherwise keep your trap shut. Nice job this week guys.

It comes out to about 4 miles of running after all three rounds are completed.

Stations this week:

10 x Tire flip
2 x sled pull (standing)
Fleshstorm
20 x Box jump
20 x KB swing, then 14 x Clean-and-press (7 each arm at 35# or 24#)
1 x Bucket carry

Participants:

Charles
Dan
Jason
Joanna
Shay
Albert
Nate
Lin

It starts at 4:30. Start getting here on time guys.

 

1) Incline bench press to maximum (Nate & Kostas: #175)

2) Deadlift to maximum (Kostas: #373, Nate: #403)

3) Three rounds of:
glute-ham 1-arm dumbell press, 40lbs, 8 reps each arm
12 deadlifts at #225
8 pullups

Notes:  This was absolutely brutal.  We intended to go for 5 rounds but it just wasn’t doable.  Totally wrecked.

Both of our max deadlifts were PR’s, and slightly over 2.3 times bodyweight.

1) Work up to max bench (Nate: #230, Shay: #205)

2) Six Rounds of:
Squat Cleans x 5 reps (65, 85, 105, 135, 155, 175) (Shay maxed at 135)
Bench Press x 5 reps (135, 135, 175, 175, 175, 175)
Push Press x 5 reps (Nate: 95 x2 then 115 x4, Shay 95 x6)

Workout:

10 x Tire flip
2 x Sled pull
Fleshstorm
20 x Box jump
20 x KB swing, then 14 x Clean-and-press (7 each arm)
1 x Bucket carry

Run 2 laps at the start of the round and between stations. If at the end of the 2 laps your intended stations are taken, keep running until one of them is free. Once done with all stations, keep running until everybody is finished.

3 rounds. 1 min rest between rounds.

Attendees:

Charles
Kostas
Andre
Dima
Jason
Dan
Lin

No photos this time, since nobody was sitting around. Work-out starts at 4:30, sharp.

Grand Central Couloir, Mt. Kitchener, Canadian Rockies. Does your running mean shit?

The climbing leading up to the money pitch was a bit more flared than that found on SC but still offered good protection and provided an obvious line of ascent.   Upon reaching the roof, you traverse right underneath it jamming and underclinging all while smearing your feet on the granite slab below.   Unfortunately we ended up having to resort to aid as some crystals and loose flakes littered the slab below and needed to be cleaned off.  With a little work the roof will most likely see a free ascent at ~5.11 or ~5.11+.

Summary:

Pipeline III 5.10 A1
FA: Andre Kiryanov  and Shay Har-Noy
Start directly below the wave-like roof following the crack system directly below it with an occasional crack switch.  Pull the roof on the right side and then head up easy face climbing to a stance.  3-4 pitches of easy climbing up and left leads you to the summit ridge. 

 

1) Work up to max bench press (Nate: #225, Kostas: #205)

2) Work up to max front squat in increments of 10kg (Nate: #243, Kostas: #221)

3) Five rounds of:
Front Squat x 5 (Nate: #177 for 3 rounds then #155, Kostas: #155 for 5 rounds)
Bench Press x 5 (Nate: #175 for 3 rounds then #165, Kostas #165 for 5 rounds)

4) Super-slow pullups x5, 2 sets (5-8 seconds per rep)

Notes:
It turns out that doing front squats in clean position is way more stable than crossing your arms, but a bit harder on your wrists.  Some wrist stretching is in order to make these things feel better.

The Workout:
Each station is done 3 rounds before switching to the next. While one person is doing the exercises, the other is holding the plank or leg-lift.

#1:
20 pushups
10 thrusters

#2:
20 box jumps
5-5 kettle bell clean & press

#3:
10 overhead squats
10 push press

#4:
15 pull-ups
15 knees to elbows

 

Warm-up: Barbell complex @ 78#, 89#, 111#

Workout:

(1) Work up to 1RM Bench Press (Kostas: 205#, Nate: 155#)

(2) 5 rounds of:

5 x Push press @ 135#

6 x pull-up

(3) Dip pyramid: 2-4-6-8-10-8-6-4-2

Notes: We felt tired (too much drinking and not sleeping enough). You reap what you sow…

Workout:

5-min rounds of the following (1-min rest in between)

Pull-up (36)

Push-up (75)

Dip (46)

Deadlift @ BW (50)

Deck squat (30)

Box jump @ 24” (60)

K2E (40)

Pull-up (27)

Total reps = 364

Notes: Worked-out on my own having missed WYW. Still tired from the weekend…

After some time/energy costly errors on the Saturday morning approach, we gained Thunderbolt pass and dropped down a few hundred feet to a nice base-camp site (~400 ft above the lake). We then went on a “reconnaissance mission” up the U-Notch gully, where we stashed our gear and busted out the binoculars to check out the various headwalls. We retreated back to camp, looking forward to a quick climb the following day.

Sunday morning we left camp at 5:40 AM and within an hour were at our gear stash. As we proceeded further up the gully we saw a number of long ridges that began all the way down from the Palisade Basin (we had not been able to see these during our previous day reconnaissance). We had however already scrambled quite high up on the U-notch gully to loose that elevation. Our decision was to climb the featured headwall right in front of us.

The climbing on LeConte’s Revenge follows discontinuous cracks and features and tops out on the summit of Polemonium. A couple of hours into the climb, clouds began to build overhead and while standing on the ledge after the rappel (pitch 6) we were faced with a decision. Do we rap down or do we continue to tag the summit? We waited 10 minutes to see what the clouds would do. They did nothing, looking as gray and menacing as ever. We thus made the educated decision to blitz the remaining two pitches to the summit. With thunder sounding above we raced down the three rappels all the way to the U-Notch gully.

Notes:
1) This trip involved miles of hiking and talus hopping!
2) We called the route LeConte’s revenge because we were suckered up the U-Notch gully which marks the start of the LeConte Route. Also, with the building thunderclouds and the giant block in the middle of the route (see topo), we couldn’t help but imagine LeConte flipping us the bird.

Route Information:
LeConte’s Revenge Topo

Approach the route by going up the U-Notch gully from the West (between 2nd and 3rd white buttresses).  Follow the path of least resistance which will lead you up and over a small ridge and under the pointy spire like summit of Polemonium.  Scramble up the slabs and belay at the base of two low angle splitter cracks (see photo).

Pitch 1: Climb up the splitter cracks (5.6) which eventually lead to a small left facing dihedral. Step right and climb up a handcrack splitter (5.7 exposed).  Belay at a big ledge with lots of blocks.

Pitch 2: Climb up and left on discontinuous cracks/broken terrain angling towards a right facing dihedral above you.  Climb the dihedral and then proceed on the left side of LeConte’s Bird.  Continue up broken terrain and belay on a ledge.

Pitch 3: Downclimb a bit and traverse left (a bit loose) towards a fun right facing dihedral (5.7).  Gain a big blocky ledge and proceed up and right towards a sloping ledge on the ridge.

Pitch 4: Face climb up and left towards the dihedral then up to the big flake/dihedral.  Belay on a ledge.

Pitch 5: Go up and left on broken terrain and then traverse left towards a gray slab with a crack on the right side of it.  Belay on a ledge.

Pitch 6: Walk 15′ left and rappel down

Pitch 7: Climb up a left leaning ramp with a handcrack and follow the path of least resistance up and left. Belay on a ledge when the climbing becomes less than obvious.

Pitch 8: From the ledge go up and right on good face holds and then angle left over a roof. This takes you to the summit.

 

This was a repeat of  Gym Nate 7/18/08

Work up to 1RM Military Press (Nate: #160 + #10 from last time)
Plenty of rest between sets

Then

Supersets of Squat-Cleans & Push Press:
Squat-Cleans: 5 reps at 85, 105, 115, 135, 155, 175
Push Press: 5 reps at #115
Plenty of rest between sets

The Work-Out

Four stations. Each station is done 10 rounds before switching to the next. No standing around.

Station One:
5 tire flips
10 thrusters with 55lb dumbbell

Station Two:
10 box jumps
10 overhead squats with 20lbs on each side

Station Three:
15 pushups
5 each arm kettle bell clean&press (or snatch)

Station Four:
6 pull-ups
10 leg lifts