don't call it a comeback: alpine rematch
As I said in my last entry, Oscar and I had originally planned to take a week off. When I bumped into my friend Monica, who is taking the Boealps Intermediate Climbing Class (which has been my primary passion for the last 5 years) in early August, she asked me if I would be available to go on her graduation climb on August 20/21. I told her I was busy.
But when my plans with Oscar diminished, I realized this would be a good chance for me. I knew Monica wanted to climb the Upper North Ridge of Stuart, which I had climbed last year. I thought about trying to direct her toward a route I hadn't done already. But she was really psyched. And it is a big route. And I was kind of itching for a rematch.
Friday, my sister Cathy was in town. Sara and I met her and her boyfriend for drinks. And at 9:00 pm, a fourth cocktail seemed entirely appropriate.
At 6:00 am the next morning I saw things differently, but that's how time works.
We rolled out to the trailhead and found the situation to be completely jacked. There were cars EVERYWHERE. Apparently buying a parking pass was pointless because the parking lot was totally full and people were parking a half mile down the road.
I felt woozy and a little bit out of balance. Monica was chipper and told me about how she'd gotten extra sleep the night before. I was able to keep up with her on the approach, but just barely.
I said, she was chipper.
Before long we'd made it to Ingall's Lake and we took a nice long rest. I ingested a whole lot of gummy apple rings, which I call "gummy bitches" for reasons that aren't as funny as I wish. Eventually we picked up and kept going.
Say... haven't we met?
Somewhere on the hike from the lake up to Stuart Pass, Monica miss-stepped and rolled her ankle. This happens to her from time to time, and she knew right away that this could threaten the trip and was really frustrated. We sat down for a few minutes, she popped a few ibuprofen, and we waited to see how things developed. After a bit she thought she could continue, and I agreed that we didn't need to turn around until it was obvious we had to, so we should keep going. We found a stick for her to walk with, and kept going.
The next part of the approach just sucks. You go up a steep trail and over Stuart Pass, then drop down steep dirt and sand.
To a "rock glacier" covered in loose chunks of granite, which you cross, before climbing up steep chunks of granite and sand to Goat Pass.
(sorry no goats this time)
It's grueling and this day it was hot.
From Goat Pass we dropped down onto the Stuart Glacier. We followed a high boot trail across the glacier to the midpoint where we found a little stream flowing over rocks, and we filled up on water. From here we crossed the second half of the glacier and ascended the couloir to the prominent notch in the north ridge, just as I had last year.
There was more snow than last year, making the beginning of the climb easier. But, just as last year, I couldn't figure out how to get to the notch without pulling some fairly hard rock moves. Maybe my third time up the route will be the charm.
We'd assumed we would have the bivy sites to ourselves, because the trail we were following across the glacier was at least a couple days old. But when we got to the notch we found a pair of climbers, a man and a woman, who had come up the lower north ridge! They were kind enough to move around so we could all squeeze into the limited space available- the really plush sites were still under snow this year! We made chit-chat and it turned out the man had taken the Boealps basic class back in 1981! We talked about when we were going to wake up and it turned out Monica and I had planned an earlier start than they had. I was worried they'd be faster and we'd have to let them pass, which proved unfounded.
We enjoyed a nice sunset.
I realized that from my sleeping bag I could see Sloan Peak (the pointy one in the middle), and I knew that somewhere over there Sara was spending the night, and I wondered if she was looking at Mount Stuart.
It was a really beautiful night, clear and warm, it probably only got down into the 40s.
The night was only interrupted briefly by the sounds of a helicopter rescue happening on the far side of the peak- seems to be a trend for me this year.
Oh the night was also interrupted by the gnawing of rats on Monica's pack. I woke up and put the pack next to my FACE, which rats are apparently afraid to approach, because I slept soundly after that. In the morning we found there was a rat-mouth-shaped hole right above Monica's pizza stash.
The alarm went off at 5 am and we performed a really lethargic roll-out. We ate some breakfast and I drank a cup of coffee, slowly.
We were rolling by 6:15. It was not very cold and we had rock shoes, and Monica had her act together.
She cruised right over the short 5.7 step.
At some point she showed me her ankle. It was kinda messed up.
There was some bad photography.
She led the crack-slab, which is a sweet photo-op. You can see the Great Gendarme lurking in the background.
We swung leads right up to the Gendarme, it was about 3.5 simulclimbing pitches and we got there by 10 am.
We'd agreed from the get-go that she would take the first gendarme pitch, which is a friendly 5.9 layback. I don't think she had ever led a 5.9 before, but I thought she could get it done. We talked a little, I offered a few pointers, and then she said something like "Okay I'm going to stop thinking about it and just go for it" and she fired it.
After this, it was my show! The fearsome offwidth! Last year I remorselessly french-freed my way up it using my #4 cam. This year I promised myself I was going to free climb it no matter what. And it was amazing how much better it felt in warm temperatures, with rock shoes on. There was a moment of stress but it passed easily and I cruised the rest of the pitch.
Pretty soon Monica was following up to the belay.
From here we went straight up again, which I think might be as mistake- I have a picture of some climbers I took on Saturday, and it looks like they went up and right. The topo is not very specific. At any rate, we soon found our way on the simulclimbing pitches above the gendarme, and then to the summit!
I seem to have some lichen on my cheek.
We'd summitted by 3pm! Monica told me that was the timeline she'd proposed in class, and apparently it was derided some instructors. "Very ambitious" they'd scoffed. Clearly they hadn't known who they were dealing with.
The descent... was another story.
As soon as she'd injured her ankle, Monica and I both knew the descent was going to be rough. We had to go down 4000 vertical feet of loose sand and rocks. I don't really know what happened during this time period, I think we both kind of blacked out.
But somehow we descended the Cascadian Couloir, crossed Ingall's Creek, climbed up and over Long's Pass, and descended down to the car.
We were back at the car by 10 pm and back in Seattle by 12:15! Not bad!
Thanks Monica for a great weekend! I think it's one of the proudest grad climbs anybody in the class does. And she did it all on a sprained ankle! And for me, it was a great confidence and endurance builder.
But when my plans with Oscar diminished, I realized this would be a good chance for me. I knew Monica wanted to climb the Upper North Ridge of Stuart, which I had climbed last year. I thought about trying to direct her toward a route I hadn't done already. But she was really psyched. And it is a big route. And I was kind of itching for a rematch.
Friday, my sister Cathy was in town. Sara and I met her and her boyfriend for drinks. And at 9:00 pm, a fourth cocktail seemed entirely appropriate.
At 6:00 am the next morning I saw things differently, but that's how time works.
We rolled out to the trailhead and found the situation to be completely jacked. There were cars EVERYWHERE. Apparently buying a parking pass was pointless because the parking lot was totally full and people were parking a half mile down the road.
I felt woozy and a little bit out of balance. Monica was chipper and told me about how she'd gotten extra sleep the night before. I was able to keep up with her on the approach, but just barely.
I said, she was chipper.
Before long we'd made it to Ingall's Lake and we took a nice long rest. I ingested a whole lot of gummy apple rings, which I call "gummy bitches" for reasons that aren't as funny as I wish. Eventually we picked up and kept going.
Say... haven't we met?
Somewhere on the hike from the lake up to Stuart Pass, Monica miss-stepped and rolled her ankle. This happens to her from time to time, and she knew right away that this could threaten the trip and was really frustrated. We sat down for a few minutes, she popped a few ibuprofen, and we waited to see how things developed. After a bit she thought she could continue, and I agreed that we didn't need to turn around until it was obvious we had to, so we should keep going. We found a stick for her to walk with, and kept going.
The next part of the approach just sucks. You go up a steep trail and over Stuart Pass, then drop down steep dirt and sand.
To a "rock glacier" covered in loose chunks of granite, which you cross, before climbing up steep chunks of granite and sand to Goat Pass.
(sorry no goats this time)
It's grueling and this day it was hot.
From Goat Pass we dropped down onto the Stuart Glacier. We followed a high boot trail across the glacier to the midpoint where we found a little stream flowing over rocks, and we filled up on water. From here we crossed the second half of the glacier and ascended the couloir to the prominent notch in the north ridge, just as I had last year.
There was more snow than last year, making the beginning of the climb easier. But, just as last year, I couldn't figure out how to get to the notch without pulling some fairly hard rock moves. Maybe my third time up the route will be the charm.
We'd assumed we would have the bivy sites to ourselves, because the trail we were following across the glacier was at least a couple days old. But when we got to the notch we found a pair of climbers, a man and a woman, who had come up the lower north ridge! They were kind enough to move around so we could all squeeze into the limited space available- the really plush sites were still under snow this year! We made chit-chat and it turned out the man had taken the Boealps basic class back in 1981! We talked about when we were going to wake up and it turned out Monica and I had planned an earlier start than they had. I was worried they'd be faster and we'd have to let them pass, which proved unfounded.
We enjoyed a nice sunset.
I realized that from my sleeping bag I could see Sloan Peak (the pointy one in the middle), and I knew that somewhere over there Sara was spending the night, and I wondered if she was looking at Mount Stuart.
It was a really beautiful night, clear and warm, it probably only got down into the 40s.
The night was only interrupted briefly by the sounds of a helicopter rescue happening on the far side of the peak- seems to be a trend for me this year.
Oh the night was also interrupted by the gnawing of rats on Monica's pack. I woke up and put the pack next to my FACE, which rats are apparently afraid to approach, because I slept soundly after that. In the morning we found there was a rat-mouth-shaped hole right above Monica's pizza stash.
The alarm went off at 5 am and we performed a really lethargic roll-out. We ate some breakfast and I drank a cup of coffee, slowly.
We were rolling by 6:15. It was not very cold and we had rock shoes, and Monica had her act together.
She cruised right over the short 5.7 step.
At some point she showed me her ankle. It was kinda messed up.
There was some bad photography.
She led the crack-slab, which is a sweet photo-op. You can see the Great Gendarme lurking in the background.
We swung leads right up to the Gendarme, it was about 3.5 simulclimbing pitches and we got there by 10 am.
We'd agreed from the get-go that she would take the first gendarme pitch, which is a friendly 5.9 layback. I don't think she had ever led a 5.9 before, but I thought she could get it done. We talked a little, I offered a few pointers, and then she said something like "Okay I'm going to stop thinking about it and just go for it" and she fired it.
After this, it was my show! The fearsome offwidth! Last year I remorselessly french-freed my way up it using my #4 cam. This year I promised myself I was going to free climb it no matter what. And it was amazing how much better it felt in warm temperatures, with rock shoes on. There was a moment of stress but it passed easily and I cruised the rest of the pitch.
Pretty soon Monica was following up to the belay.
From here we went straight up again, which I think might be as mistake- I have a picture of some climbers I took on Saturday, and it looks like they went up and right. The topo is not very specific. At any rate, we soon found our way on the simulclimbing pitches above the gendarme, and then to the summit!
I seem to have some lichen on my cheek.
We'd summitted by 3pm! Monica told me that was the timeline she'd proposed in class, and apparently it was derided some instructors. "Very ambitious" they'd scoffed. Clearly they hadn't known who they were dealing with.
The descent... was another story.
As soon as she'd injured her ankle, Monica and I both knew the descent was going to be rough. We had to go down 4000 vertical feet of loose sand and rocks. I don't really know what happened during this time period, I think we both kind of blacked out.
But somehow we descended the Cascadian Couloir, crossed Ingall's Creek, climbed up and over Long's Pass, and descended down to the car.
We were back at the car by 10 pm and back in Seattle by 12:15! Not bad!
Thanks Monica for a great weekend! I think it's one of the proudest grad climbs anybody in the class does. And she did it all on a sprained ankle! And for me, it was a great confidence and endurance builder.