Yosemite Trip With Derek: Day 3, Royal Arches

High on Royal Arches

Photos

Strava

Suffer-fest #2: Royal Arches

This didn’t start off as a suffer-fest…

We awoke early, packed up camp and headed into the Yosemite National Park. Derek would have normally been sleeping for a lot of this drive and he did nap once we were into the woods, but the gorgeous alpine terrain that is Tuolumne Meadows had him alert. I pointed out the major structures: Mt. Dana, Lembert Dome, Cathedral Peak, Fairview Dome, Pywiak, Stately Pleasure Dome, Tenaya Peak, Cloud's Rest, and the monarch of the entire park: Half Dome.

Derek on one of the lower pitches

As we past Olmsted Point parking, I spotted bear on the road and cried out, "Bear, bear, bear!" to alert Derek. We watched it scamper straight up the steep slope above the road. It was the last bear we'd see on the trip, but at least we saw one.

I drove directly to the Ahwahnee Hotel parking lot and found a spot steps from the trailhead. Nothing seems to have changed in the Valley. I was back here in 2012, just for a day to zip up the Nose with some blonde dude, but before that it was...I don't even know how long. Maybe most of a decade since I last really visited the Valley. I was teeming with excitement to share this place with Derek.

We geared up, taking a 60-meter rope, a moderate rack, a 64-ounce bladder and two 20-ounce bottles in a light pack, along with some food. We planned to climb most of the route in our approach shoes and carried our climbing shoes just in case. We did the 5-minute approach to the start of the route and I insisted on starting with the classic, slick 5.6 chimney start and not the "easier" 5.7 start around the corner. Derek needed to experience a Yosemite wide crack.

I smeared and chimneyed my way up the pitch, mindful not to slip off with my son carefully watching my technique. At the top I dropped the end of the rope and hauled up the pack. Derek had no trouble at all on this chimney and I was a bit surprised by that. It is so slick that if you are sloppy with your footwork, you're going to slide down it. He joined me at the belay and I handed him the rack, telling him to lead on. Granted it was only 3rd class, but it was his first time taking the rope up the route.

Possibly not the tighest of belays, but our motto is Photos Phirst!

Derek stopped at the next steep section and I led up that to another third class pitch. Derek led his and placed his first ever piece, a #2 Camalot. I led another pitch and Derek led us around the corner to the base of one of the crux pitches: a 5.7 up pin scars. This proved challenging for a move or two in my approach shoes, but a little extra squeezing of the pin scars solved the problem. Derek did the same.

We followed great cracks and flakes upwards, past a neat offwidth that I chimneyed outside to the awesome Bear Hug pitch with duel hand cracks. Another pitch brought us to the huge ledge below the pendulum pitch. We took a short break here to eat and drink and I put on my climbing shoes to give the 10b slab a try. Here I also called my buddy Hans and asked the best option for sleeping. I figured it was still to drive out highway 140 and sleep at the "Secret Spot," but he said I could give his caretaker, Will, a call. Will handled the cleaning for Hans' Basecamp house in West Yosemite, which he rents out via VRBO. I had met Will once before, so I gave him a ring, also from this ledge. Will welcomed us to come crash on his floor! With the night's lodging arranged, I turned my attention to the crux slab.

I climbed up to the fixed rope and clipped into a loop of it for my high protection piece. I tried the traverse low, made a few moves and fell off. Derek caught me nicely and I tried again, this time a big higher. I fell again. Dang. This baby is thin. I've done this once before, but I don't remember anything about it. I just didn't have the footwork/balance for this section, at least not today, and I gave up and swung over using the fixed line. Derek did the same while following - his first pendulum!

This is alright place to climb... Derek finishing the Pendulum Pitch

Derek led the traverse pitch over to the tree (placing no gear, as it is basically a walk, but a walk with lots of exposure). I led up the 5.7 crux pitch, past the awkward jamming where you use the tree branches to the ledge. The next pitch goes around the blind corner via an awkward step and gains a nice crack. I knew I could traverse even further and make it easier, but the description on Mountain Project (by Josh Janes) says to head directly up the steep hand crack. I started up it, but had to back down and remove my watch (one-handed! and almost dropped it), so that I could jam with both hands. I was a little annoyed with Josh's MP description of the route where he doesn't understand why this is a classic route. To me that is just such ignorance. This is a brilliant route that makes it way up an incredible wall of rock via amazingly good, moderate climbing. If you can't see that, you are a gymnast and not a climber, certainly not an alpine climber that appreciates routes that top out.

Leading the traverse over to the 5.7 "tree" pitch

Derek followed nicely and after another cool crack pitch, he led an unprotected slab traverse to the left. I was above him for this and was able to provide a reasonable belay for the first half. We had changed back into our approach shoes and Derek wasn't super confident with his footwork, but he never hesitated and inched across the slab. After another super long pitch, I got to the rappel anchors at the start of the last pitch. We weren't doing the rappel (we brought only one rope). MP (Josh) says that it is safer to lead this last pitch than to follow it. Based on that recommendation I had Derek lead this last pitch and he did great, but was pretty stressed by the end of it. He didn't trust the friction and was palming and mantling so hard with his upper body that he was drained on the other side. Yet, he kept moving and never even said, "Watch me." Derek placed one cam and clipped the one bolt on this pitch, tripling the number of lead placements he's now done.

Following the pitch seemed way easier. The climbing near the bolt is the easiest and hence the difficult climbing is near the belay for the second and far away from the protection for the leader. I couldn't do the 10b friction below, but I practically ran across this pitch. My confidence is very high on angles this low. :-)

We packed up the gear a bit and hiked up steeply to the short scrambling section and then through the woods until I found a nice flat spot by a huge boulder. We stopped here to rest and eat lunch. And we called Sheri. It was hot and we had little water left, but all we had to do was descend, right?

Derek's experience with the infamous North Dome Gully descent was just as pleasant as most people's: it sucked. He'd have done a lot better later in the week, after he got his granite friction dialed. It was a hot slog over to the saddle behind Washington Column to begin with and then the long, exposed traverse over to the slabs. Once on the slabs, Derek had no confidence in his scramblers. We switched shoes a short ways down to help him out, but most of the problem was confidence. It didn't help that he was drained by the climb and dehydrated.

Back in the parking lot, we pulled out our chairs and each down four different drinks. First water, then a soda, then a chocolate milk, we kept the liquids coming. The roundtrip had taken us nine hours with about six of that on the climb itself. Derek spirits were lifted considerably with the fluids and some food, but what really got him going was the dip in the Merced River. This became his passion.

Derek relaxing in his new favorite river: the Merced

Yosemite Trip With Derek: Days 1 and 2, Wheeler Peak

Photos

Strava

Derek had never been to Yosemite and was very excited about this trip. He wants to climb El Cap one day and was anxious to get started learning some key skills. This week we concentrated on suffering.

We didn’t leave town on Saturday until nearly 3 p.m. as Derek didn’t get back from the SATs until 1:30 p.m. and I let him have some decompression time. It was the last test in a long string of PSATs, ACTs, and AP tests. He’d done very well in the ones we had results for, including a 35 (out of 36) on the ACT test.

I drove the first two hours and then let the Road Warrior take the wheel. He’d end up driving 70% of our total miles. This is a huge boon to me, as I like to read and write on these road trips. Miraculously, despite our late start, we made our goal of getting to Great Basin National Park - ten hours out. Derek drove until 12:30 a.m. and we threw down the bags to sleep just off the highway.

Suffer-fest #1: Wheeler Peak

This didn’t start off as a suffer-fest…

My buddy Mark had done this peak exactly a week ago on his way to Yosemite also. He’s the reason we were here now. I had wanted to climb Boundary Peak, but this peak has a couple of things going for it over Boundary. First and foremost, it breaks up the drive nicely with some exercise. In contrast, Boundary Peak is nearly to Yosemite. Secondly this peak has much greater topographic isolation. It’s nearest higher summit is over 230 miles away while Boundary’s is less than a mile away and is technically a subsidiary peak of Montgomery Peak (located across the border in California). Hence, Wheeler Peak is the tallest independent peak in Nevada and has a prominence of 7,563 feet, making it the 12th most prominent peak in the lower 48 states. Good enough for me.

We parked at the upper trailhead. The roundtrip was going to be about 9 miles and 3000 vertical feet. Easy peasy, right? It was a bit chilly and we wore long pants, hats, gloves, and jackets right from the parking lot. Soon we had some spectacular views of the Northeast Face. This baby looks to be over a thousand feet of vertical rock. An Internet search revealed an account of the first ascent, but with scant details. I’d be interested in exploring this face for a route.

A mile into the hike we stripped off our jackets, but once we hit the ridge we had to put them back on. In fact, we had to put on all we carried. It wasn't all that cold, but we were hiking up snow-covered rock in a very strong wind and limited visibility. We met a pair of hikers descending. They had turned around about a thousand feet from the top. We pushed on, making fresh tracks in the snow. Five hundred feet below the top, we pulled on our Microspikes. Derek hadn't used these before and was really impressed. 

The final section was a cool, small ridge with a tiny cornice. It was socked in at the summit and we couldn't see much. The summit register is located inside of a mailbox and I was amazed to see it was completely filled with entries. This peak is very isolated, yet it seems to be very popular. I tried to find Mark's entry, but failed. I found a place to squeeze in our names, but it was tough.

Our descent went smooth and soon we could see the surrounding area again. We spotted a wind farm below and green irrigation circles. It's a vast area here and worth visiting. I'll probably make this a regular stop on my treks westward.

Our camp on Tioga Pass Road

LPP for May: Flying Dutchman

Crazy wind as Charlie climbs out of the top of the Notch

Photos

Strava

When I told my friend Mark that I was planning to do Longs this day he said, "You need to go up there with an army of friends to break trail in all that new snow." Turns out I did. Breaking trail for me was Chuck, Charlie, and Mt. Nuttelman. With those three in front, I barely made this climb. Months like this make the Longs Peak Project so challenging. One year April was my toughest ascent. So far this year, May was our toughest. It was the windiest and coldest. On the last day of May! Crazy Colorado...

Our original plan was to link up couloirs on neighboring peaks with the Notch Couloir on Longs, but the tremendous amount of snow on the mountain caused us to scale back our plan to a safer route and even then we were prepared to abort. Better to fail on this project than to risk death in an avalanche.

We both went a bit undressed, expecting warm, sunny conditions up there with a forecast for 80+ degrees in Boulder. We also didn't even meet in Boulder until 5 a.m. and started hiking after 6 a.m. The wind hit us as soon as we broke treeline and we'd battle it the rest of the way. On any other day my thoughts would immediately turn to bailing, as the wind was so strong that it greatly reduced the chances of success. Yet today, on the last day in May, it never entered my mind. We had to summit today, barring excessive danger, and if we had to exert tremendous effort, so be it. Charlie even stated at one point, "We just have to summit before the end of the day, right? Or do we need to get back to the trailhead today as well?" We were committed to whatever it took.

High in the Flying Dutchman couloir

The wind had us staggering at Chasm Cut-off and along the traverse to the eastern cirque. I was somewhat surprised to see Chasm Lake still completely covered in snow, but neither one of us wanted to risk a crossing this late in the year. We forged a track around the north side of the lake on the usual path. As we started up the Flying Dutchman, a couloir east of Lambs Slide, we noticed two skiers descending it from above. The snow conditions here were excellent.

The Flying Dutchman usually has a nearly vertical ice crux section. The last time I did it, I needed two tools to climb this section. Today, we kicked steps up it without even putting on crampons! This was the most snow I'd ever seen on Longs, and I've climbed it over 60 times and 10+ times in winter. Charlie did all the leading here, putting in a nice track for me to follow. We had a bit of steep rock to negotiate just before getting to the Loft, but were careful and solid here.

At the Loft the wind was tremendous once again and I led us slowly up the Beaver, which is the structure that forms the south side of the Notch Couloir. Things went well here and at the top of the Beaver, we geared up with harnesses and crampons. We failed to located the rappel slings here, which were probably buried in snow. I searched as much as I felt safe doing on the edge of the 100-foot drop before Charlie saved the day by pulling a long cord our of pack. He's always prepared. We looped it around a large outcrop at the top and I rappelled into the Notch.

The wind here was even greater. I put in a piece and clipped to it. I was still thirty feet above the lowpoint of the Notch. Charlie soon joined me and I put him on belay. He cautiously downclimbed extremely steep snow to the top of the Notch and then started up the Skyline Traverse rock route. When dry this route is 5.5. In mixed conditions, like we found it, it's challenging. Charlie took his time and did a great job finding the little protection available. I followed and took the lead to finish off the steep climbing.

Rappelling into the Notch Couloir

I headed up a steep corner, mainly because I could see solid gear. I placed a bomber cam and was liebacking off an icicle when it snapped! I fell down to the bottom of the corner, but the snow below and grabbing the sling saved me from having Charlie catch me. I tried again, this time using the rock - not as good of a handhold, but considerably more solid. I led out until the terrain eased back and set up a belay. Charlie took over again and led us to the summit.

This was the only time I've ever been to the summit of Longs and seen a point higher than the summit boulder. Fifty feet away a snow mound was even higher. Normally it is a 5-foot scramble to gain the top of the summit boulder. Today, I could step over the boulder. Charlie had to dig down a full arm's length to located the summit register. I was amazed he found it so quickly.

The ascent had taken over six hours and I was pretty drained. I wanted to descend the North Face, because it was shorter, but after descending just a tiny bit, Charlie didn't like the look of things. Weeks ago, he'd heard of a climber being caught in a avalanche while approaching the base of the North Face and he was gun shy. Laziness is not a reason to risk unnecessary danger, so we headed for the Keyhole descent.

Charlie digging out the summit register

The Homestretch was steep, hard snow and we descended cautiously and then kicked steps and drove in our axes to protect the Narrows traverse. The Trough, though, had perfect snow and we easily descended until we had to start the traverse over to the Keyhole. We stopped here to eat and drink. I hadn't done either for the past five hours and was seriously bonking. I have a bad habit of doing this when conditions are so difficult. I need to keep moving to stay warm, but I also need to fuel. We were out of the wind here and I downed twenty ounces of fluid and 300 calories, while putting additional food in an accessible pocket.

The traverse to the Keyhole, normally a rock scramble was completely covered in snow. So much so, that it was difficult to know exactly where to go, but I'd been here many times before and I directed us to the proper location. Descending from the Keyhole is normally very steep, blocky talus. Today it was a snowfield. The boulder field is usually a maze of walking through blocks, even in winter. Today it was an unbroken snowfield. We had to break trail across its entire length, never once stepping onto a rock.

Charlie leading the first pitch of the Skyline Traverse

We took the Jim's Grove route on the way down and had to plunge-step through a lot of this as well. The snow here was incredibly wet. The amount of water on Longs Peak was astounding. By this time my boots were so filled with water that each step was like walking in a stream. When we finally got back to treeline we took a break to strip down and met one of the only full-time climbing rangers of RMNP. His name escapes me now, but he was descending on skis, was an ultrarunner and seemed to be a badass climber as well. I invited him to come scramble with the Minions, but I haven't heard from him yet.

We got back to the parking lot after 10 hours, 10 minutes, and 10 seconds on the move. It was our most grueling ascent yet. Hopefully things will get a bit easier in June and July and August, but to make up for the expected easier conditions, we plan to up the ambition of our route selection. We'll see, but for now the LPP is still on. Five months down, seven to go.

Bolder Boulder -23rd Time in a Row!

Just before running the Bolder Boulder for the 23rd time in a row (13 for the boys)

This is a long-standing family tradition for us. Sheri and I first ran the Bolder Boulder in 1993 when we were living in California. We were out looking for houses, planning to move here, and ran our first one then. That was the only Bolder Boulder we didn't run as husband and wife.

Throughout the years we've had some close battles, but Sheri was usually fitter and dominated the early going. Our head-to-head record improved when Sheri got pregnant a couple of times. She used the weak of excuse of either being pregnant at the time or recently recovering from child birth as an explanation for why I took the family title in those years.

Nowadays my rival is Derek. Last year Derek ran track and we had an epic battle that he won by 0.3 seconds. This year, despite starting in the same wave again, Derek had not been running (he had been concentrating on taking countless college aptitude and advanced placement tests) and would not be challenging me - family victory once again! 

Or not... My extended family includes my sister Brook's family and her husband Kraig Koski, who would always win the extended family title. This year was no different with regards to me - he beat me, as usual, but he experienced what I did last year: getting beat by his child! This year his college-bound daughter Samantha took the extended family title with a massive PR - running 44:08. Yes, it is getting easier and easier to take this title as the big guns get older and slower.

I finished in 44:44 and just made my goal of breaking 45 minutes. Sheri ran well and broke 49 minutes. Derek fell just short of breaking 50 minutes and Danny cruised it with Brook in around 58 minutes. Danny has run this race every year since he was 8 years old and Derek since he was 5 years old. I wonder when the streak will be broken... We've had injuries throughout the years, some pretty severe for me, but never around BB time. 

I have another streak going - running the Bolder Boulder under my age since I turned 40 (and still the only time I've ever broken 40 minutes in a 10K). I wonder when that will be broken as well. I figure I'M good 'til at least 70, right?

Blob Rock

Octavian on the fourth pitch of On Ballet (5.9) at Blob Rock

Photos

Strava

I met Tom and Octavian at Blob Rock and we climbed up On Ballet (5.9). We weren't positive we did each pitch correctly, but we climbed by three two-bolt anchors. We went clear to the summit in five pitches and walked off. It was nice doing a bit of granite climbing, as I plan to head to Yosemite next month and need to do some training. Of course, now it's raining again. It's been a super wet May in town and the snow keeps piling up on Longs Peak. I still need to climb that this month...

Left Out

This is me at the crux of Reggae

I met Anton Krupicka this morning for another Eldo session. We had hoped to do a couple of laps on the Bastille but the ripping winds and 40-degree temperatures drove us over to the friendlier Wind Ridge. We warmed up by climbing the West Overhang (5.7) and then rapped down to the halfway ledge and climbed a rarely-climbed gem called Left Out (5.8, S+). This route is on the corner of the more gentle Southwest Face and the intimidating South Face. I'd done the route a couple of times before, but probably not for at least five years. It's exciting and the cold temperatures had my hands feeling pretty wooden. I took my time putting in what gear I could find and even then got a small cam semi-stuck and then didn't use slings liberally enough so that rope drag was an issue and I had to stop just before the pitch reaches easy ground. Thankfully I was at the one location on the entire pitch with lots of bomber gear. Tony climbed easily up to me, but had the common courtesy to pause at the crux and to blow on his hands, mimicking my troubles.

I finished the last tricky bit and then over to the rappel anchors we had used after the West Overhang. We rapped to the halfway ledge once again and did our Reggae Loop. This is where I climbed up Reggae and immediately downclimb The Bomb while Tony climbs up Ruper. I downclimbed all the way to the ground and Tony did as well, after unroping at the top of the Bomb, since I didn't place any gear on the downclimb, which we previously agreed on. This is interesting because I'm always on belay and never soloing, but Tony down solos the entire Bomb route. He has a very good head for soloing, though.

Rockies 5K Race Report

Strava

I'd been sick for the past 12 days and had not run for 16 days when I staged for the start of the Rockies Run for the Homeless 5K. The previous day I did 6000 vertical feet of hiking and scrambling in the Lost Creek Wilderness and it didn't wipe me out, so I figured I was ready to try a run.

I did a couple of really slow miles to warm-up and then a few striders. I staged with Sheri and Derek. Sheri had been doing some training, like me, but Derek was coming in completely cold, his last being the Rattlesnake Ramble last September. But he's fit, 17 years old, and a natural runner. I thought he was going to be serious threat to me. Last year, we ran four races together: two 5K's, the Bolder Boulder 10K, and the aforementioned Ramble. He beat me in all of them, though they were all close, but last year he ran track. This year nothing. I had a shot.

Derek actually conceded before we started. He was just going to run mostly with his mom and see how things felt, so I was on my own. The first mile is pretty fast and my plan was to try and hold back to 7:15, as I feared the next two miles, which were tougher. The barker at the mile mark called out 7:13, my watch showed 7:11, and my chip time was probably 7:09, so I was on track. I pushed a bit harder in the second mile, powering over some small hills and went by the 2-mile mark at 14:15, so about a 7:02 mile. 

I tried to empty the tank in the third mile, but probably could have suffered more. Just before the finish this race goes into the Rockies ballpark, Coors Field, and circles the field on the warning track. This surface feels great to run on. I looked back to make sure Derek wasn't coming for me and then exited the stadium and kicked solidly for the finish. I went hard enough that I dry heaved once or twice after finishing.

In the third mile I worked quite hard and my Garmin watch told me I was going faster than the other miles, but my final time doesn't seem to agree with that. After uploading to Strava, it seems to think my third mile was faster as well, but the final time was 22:04, for an average of 7:07/mile. In the past, my watch has overestimated my speed, but the splits I got at the miles don't jive that much with the final time either. It doesn't really matter, though. The time is the time. My goal for the Bolder Boulder is 7:15/mile and this 5K indicates I'm not ready to run that fast for a 10K, but I have three weeks to hopefully improve. Oh, and I won't do a big hike the day before the Bolder Boulder.

Sheri finished 1m14s behind me and Derek 14 seconds after her. We immediately got our Rockies tickets for a game in August (part of the perks of running this race) and then we entered the park to eat, drink, and relax in the perfect weather. A few minutes after we settled into some seats and started eating, Derek had a severe allergic reaction. His face started getting very puffy, his mouth and lips in particular. Sheri ran back to the car to get a Zyrtec that we always keep with us for exactly this. When Sheri got back, Derek was still going downhill and we called for some EMTs to come give him a look. They arrived about ten minutes later and an IV, right there in stands. They then injected him with 40mg (I think) of Benadryl. Sheri had already given him a Zyrtec (10mg, I think), but his mouth and entire face was swelling up pretty badly. He had some hives as well, but mostly it was his mouth swelling up that had them concerned. They recommended a trip to the hospital and an ambulance team came right to our seats in the stadium and they loaded him in a gurney and took him through the massive crowd of runners. He was quite the spectacle, but that was nothing compared to the attention he received at the hospital.

Derek in the emergency room at Denver Health

Apparently word got around the ward that some good looking, 17-year-old academic superstar (he just learned he scored a 34 on the ACT) tennis start was being brought in and the entire female staff rushed to his room. When we got there five of them hovered over him pretending to tend to his condition but secretly hoping for an autograph…

He’s fine now and off to a study session, but he’s now gone through this four times in the past four years. He’s been tested for allergies and they have all come up negative. Frustrating, but it doesn’t happen often. Now we have an Epi-Pen, though, and I can’t wait until I have to jam it into his thigh…NOT! But we will be prepared.

I ran reasonably well, for me, and was 3rd in my age group out of 105 runners. When I read the email that told me this, Sheri responded with, “Oh, so you weren’t first out of 167, then?” Guess where she finished? Smack talk from the wife!

Lost Creek Wilderness Sufferfest

Atop Buffalo Peak

Photos

Strava for Wigwam and Buffalo Peak

Strava for the Castle

I've resisted joining Mark and Homeslice on adventures in the Lost Creek Wilderness because of the long, windy drive, the unappealing summits (so I thought), and, mostly, the running they always planned to do. Then they came up a plan to mostly be off trail and bag ten summits. I have a goal of doing 52 different summits this year and this one day would go a long ways toward satisfying this. Hence, I agreed to join them and invited my LPP partner, Chuck Charlie Nuttelman.

We met at 4 a.m. and drove down together to the Wigwam Trailhead. We took the trail for about two minutes and then headed directly for the summit of the Wigwam. The going here was steep, but the ground was dry and snow-free. We did some fun scrambling as we approached the summit. Because of the scrambling we planned to do, Mark wore his scrambling shoes. Because of the snow we expected to encounter, I wore my Crossover, Gortex, built-in gaitor, hobnailed running shoes. Despite the earlier indications, I'd made by far the better choice.

We hit our first bit of snow just below the summit of the Wigwam, but paid it no mind, as we descended to the saddle and away from any snow for while. We were hiking up the southern slopes of Buffalo peak and didn't hit snow again until probably 10,000 feet. At first the snow wasn't too bad and we postholed through ankle-deep to mid-shin deep, soft snow. I broke trail for a bit and then Chuck Charlie took over and the snow got quite a bit deeper. When Homie finally went into the lead, it was downright ridiculous.

We were hiking over breakable crust that would sometimes support our weight (at least at first), but mostly we plunged into at least knee-deep snow and would occasionally drop in up to our crotches. The depth of the snow wasn't our biggest problem, though. We all wore shorts and each plunging step into the crust would scrape excruciatingly up our shins. Each step was so painful that Mark took to scooting on this butt to avoid plunging in. It was the worst, most painful snow conditions I've ever hiked through, in a lifetime of snowy adventures.

By the time we made the summit of Buffalo Peak and surveyed the similar terrain and likely identical snow conditions to our north,  no one, and these are three very tough guys, considered continued with our ridiculous ten-peak plan. I wanted to return the way we had come, for at least we had a track that way. Apparently I didn't make this very clear because Homeslice didn't understand what I wanted. I didn't want to force everyone to call it a day so quickly, so I didn't push it, but I feared any new trail breaking. Mark's feet were numb and we took some time on top for him to revive his feet.

Homie devised a plan to head northwest and then down steeply to the west until we encountered the trail. We were currently at 11,589 feet. The trail lay nearly 3000 feet below us. Chuck Charlie boldly took the lead. He plunged a track through the crust, seemingly immune to the pain, but, not, just too tough to cry out in pain. I followed, howling with each step. Mark continued to scoot on his butt on the worst sections.

After descending five or six hundred feet the crust finally stopped, but the snow just got deeper and wetter. Homie took over the lead and we wound our way through draws, over creeks, and over deadfall. Mark took a couple of nasty drops into the snow up to his crotch, bashing his shin against a log one time and nearly bashing his face into a boulder another time. We eventually found a big rock slab in a clearing and took refuge from the snow there to rest, dry out a bit, and regroup. Mark's feet were again numb and all of us had cold, wet feet.

We sunned ourselves like lizards for thirty minutes before donning still soaked shoes and socks to continue our quest for dry land and a trail. Charlie took the lead after the break and soon we were free from the snow. We passed a big cliff and surfed down steep loose slopes, losing elevation rapidly. Finally, we arrived at the bottom, crossed the creek on a bridge of logs and hit the trail, the glorious trail. We'd covered about four miles in an almost entirely miserable 4.5 hours.

Mark envisioned this day, even with the majority of it off-trail, as a training day for the Hard Rock Hundred, which he'll run come July, and he wasn't satisfied with calling it a day. The rest of us had no desire to run around on trails after that experience. Eventually we settled on a plan. Mark would hike/run up to Buckleberry Pass, hopeful ahead of the Nazgul and try to descend from there before Sauron's eye spotted him and brought him more miserable snow. He was still well-stocked with lembas bread and he took off. The three of us would hike out and the drive around to make a stealthy assault on the Black Tower. We'd meet up in nearby Rivendell. At least that was the plan.

Mark didn't elude the snow and had an even more miserable time descending from the pass. Sauron had obliterated any sign of the trail, burying it in unconsolidated, freezing snow. Mark's feet froze solid for the third time that day and his spirits dipped low. Just when he was about to give up all hope, an angel called to him and revived him. Miraculously, he still had cell service, answered, and pushed on.

Meanwhile, with Sauron's attention diverted, Chuck Charlie, Homeslice, and I ventured around to the Black Tower. The bridge at Khazad Dun was out, but our FJ forded it and we continued to the base. After paying the Troll's Toll, we started up, steeply, with a short section of rope and one pair of magic shoes. An airy traverse on wet rock brought us to Durin's Door and I headed up, trailing the rope. Homeslice wrapped the rope around his waist and Chuck Charlie danced up in his magic shoes.
Chuck Charlie took the lead and found the passage through the maze to the base of the final prow. A steep crack was dispatched and the summit gained, but retreat wasn't possible and we pushed over the top, down a wide crack and descended a tree back to the base. We retraced our path through the maze and back to the ground. We descended back to the FJ, way behind schedule, and headed for Rivendell.

Gandalf must have been looking after each of us, for, while both parties arrived over 70 minutes late, we were within two minutes of each other. Beaten and bruised, Mark had barely escaped, running just ahead of warg-mounted orcs before reaching the safety of Elfin land. We hadn't recovered all the treasure that we sought, but we lived to return again.

Climbing with Tony Krupicka

Tony and Bill at the top of the second pitch of the Bulge (photo by Chris George, from the Wind Tower)

My last post about solo TRing with a self-belay device sparked Tony Krupicka's interest, as he had recently been doing the same. Tony, also known as Anton, is one of the best mountain/ultra runners in the world. Tony has so much energy that whenever he can't run, due to injury, he seeks another outlet. In the past that has been scrambling, cycling, recently randonee skiing, and more technical rock climbing. He pinged me and we decided to get out on some Eldo moderates to see if we could have some fun and move efficiently. Not surprisingly, we did both, this morning.

We were into Eldo a bit after 6, meeting at the dirt lot at highway 93 and driving in together. In Eldo, we saw fellow Minions Chris George, Jason Antin, and Wade Morris gearing up to climb Tagger. I put together a light rack and we were off to the Wind Ridge, which Tony had never climbed before.

I put the first two pitches together and Tony followed easily and then led the cool and unusual roof pitch. We scrambled off to the north and soloed down the down climb to the trail, picked up our shoes and headed for the Bulge, which Tony had also not climbed before. Are you picking up on a theme here? I led the first pitch and Tony led the massively runout second pitch. All Tony's scrambling and daring exploits on Longs Peak have apparently made him immune to exposure and lack of protection, provided it is at a comfortable grade for me. This pitch was and he was quickly at the belay.

I led the third pitch with the signature "Bulge" section. I got the sequence just right and it seemed easy today. It has seemed awkward and dicey on some of my ascents, but today it was smooth. Tony followed it without hesitation. I was mildly surprised by this. Most people pause a bit there, as the moves are a bit hidden and unintuitive. But, as the movie In The High Country expounds, Tony is definitely one with the mountains. 

I led the direct finish up the 5.9- fourth pitch and we scrambled off via the usual descent. I had a bit more time, so we tacked on Boulder Direct to Tagger (5.8). I led this and immediately started downclimbing the Bomb while Tony climbed up. I downclimbed to the rappel anchors above the Bomb and clipped those. I also had a piece at our high point. This is a great introduction to simul-climbing as both people at climbing at the same time, yet both climbers are on toprope! This is such a fun loop (how often can you say that about a rock climb!?) and I've done it many times.

That was enough and we were back at the car a bit after 9 a.m. What a great way to start the day! I suspect we'll do it again... :-)

Solo TR Climbing

Eight people and two dogs at the base of the west face of Der Zerkle on Dinosaur Mountain in the Flatirons

Strava

It's getting warm in Colorado, though we just had a week of stormy weather that pounded the mountains with snow, and my climbing gym membership will be frozen on May 5th. I'll take my climbing outside exclusively now until I return to the gym in November. This year I want to taking my project-working mentality of the gym outside. I've done that stuff before, but not much. I projected the Naked Edge, getting the redpoint on probably my tenth or eleventh time up the route. I did it with Country Club Crack (only two pitches) on Castle Rock, too. I worked some 5.12 sport routes when I turned forty and again when I turned forty-ten. I ready to try again.

Not wanting to bore my partners or embarrass myself in front of them, I decided that maybe I'd work some routes by myself, on toprope. I know top climbers do this stuff all the time. Pros will rap off the top of El Cap to work the Salathe headwall or some other hard route. My buddy Chris Weidner did this on the Diamond when he was establishing Hearts and Arrows with Bruce Miller.

I talked to Chris about solo toproping and he told me to get a Petzl Micro Traxion, so I did. This morning I headed up to Der Zerkle to try it out on some moderate routes with easy toprope access. I parked at NCAR and hiked the familiar trail up Dinosaur Mountain to the base Sunny Side Two (a great 4th class scramble - highly recommended for kids) on Der Zerkle. I located the bolts at the top of What If You're Not (5.7) and fixed my 100-foot gym rope to them. I rappelled down to the west with my pack and unpacked.

Harnessed and shoed up, I clipped on my brand new Traxion and also a Ropeman, as I'd read that you should always have two devices when doing this, in case something goes wrong with one. The Ropeman didn't work out that well as I had to manually move it up the rope, but the Traxion worked great. I had it clipped directly to my harness with a locking carabiner and the Ropeman above that on a sling.

Just as I started up a party of four climbers arrived. They were nice enough, talking about warming up on these routes before heading off to some hardman routes. I chatted a bit but mainly kept to myself, a bit self conscious about learning my new system and wishing I had more privacy, but that's what you get if you go to the most popular sport climbing area in the Flatirons.

I did a lap on What If You're Not and it went well, with the pain of moving up the Ropeman. The rock was cold and subsequently my fingers too, but the climbing was reasonable and I made the top without any trouble. I switched to my Gri-Gri and rappelled back down. I did a second lap, this time without the Ropeman. I know this isn't recommended because if I fell and somehow the Traxion got wedged open, releasing the cam, I'd fall to the ground. This appears very difficult to do and I felt safe enough here, as I also didn't plan to fall. In the future, I guess I'll need something else. My inclination is to get a second Traxion, but best practice says to use a different device so that you can't make the same screwup with both of them. The second lap was much easier and I didn't have to touch the Traxion. I rappelled back to the ground.

The others were now done with the route on my right, Wing Ding Ding-aling Down She Goes (really? That's the name of this route? 10a), so I headed up that from my same anchors. I risked a swing at the top, but I wasn't too concerned. The route didn't seem a lot different from the first one, but I guess it was harder. Before I left the ground for this ascent a rude couple from Portland with two dogs arrived. Near the top of the route I looked down to see the dogs walking on my pack and sniffing around my food. I called down, "Can you keep the dogs away from my pack and food?" The guy just responded, "Okay." No "sorry" or any apology. He eventually tied the dogs to a tree, but much later. They they proceeded to bark up a storm. Chris was just telling me how he doesn't like dogs at the crags and I concur completely.

I rapped down again, packed up all my gear into my pack to protect it from the dogs and then did a final lap on What If You're Not so that I could retrieve my rope and move it uphill to the anchors for Bar None (5.9). I repeated my procedure on this route and on Der Fuhrer (5.8) ,which also led to this anchor. As I was doing this another pair of guys arrived. I suffer in this scene. I got my climbing done and packed up. I had planned a short outing anyway, just to see if this stuff worked. I consider this first trial a big success, but need a better backup plan. I also need to find a more obscure place to climb, though I think just about anything earlier on a weekday morning will provide solitude.

Red Rocks Trip - Day 3: Juniper Peak

Chris Weidner on my Myster Z

Strava

Photos

After 15 hours climbing the Rainbow Wall, I was pretty tired the next day and moving slow. We agreed to get up at 7 a.m. but then we dawdled quite a bit before heading out. Originally I was going to take the 10 p.m. flight home, which didn't land in Denver until 1 a.m. That was when I thought we'd be going big today, but that was out of the question for me so I changed to the 4:30 p.m. flight. With that out of the way, we made plans. I might have been content to just go watch Heather on her project - Where is My Mind. Alas, that would have been unsatisfying. Chris told me that he had soloed a nice linkup in Juniper Canyon. He took the 1100-foot 5.7 Myster Z on the Jackrabbit Buttress and that led quite nicely to Birthday Cake (5.6) on the far left of the Brownstone Wall, leading to the very summit of Juniper Peak. That sounded just my speed and Chris agreed to repeat it.

Looking out from my "cave" belay

I didn't want to solo the route onsight, so we took a rope and a light rack. I didn't take climbing shoes, though, trusting my La Sportiva Mix shoes with a fresh resole of ultra sticky rubber. We hiked in with ultra-light, minimalist packs and just climbed with them on. First pitch of Myster Z is a very steep chimney, but with a plethora of big holds. I strung the first two pitches together and by then had exhausted my Spartan rack. Chris followed and then led up a long 3rd class section and I took over again.

I led up a really nice crack in a right facing dihedral and that led to a groove-chimney thing where I stemmed a long ways to another nice crack. I belayed in a sort-of cave, in the shade, and brought Chris up. From there I traversed a bit right and up an easy crack that was supposedly 5.7, but felt like 5.4. We continued simul-climbing up very easy ground to the top of the buttress. Here we checked the time. We'd been going for about two hours, from the car, and had to be back at the car in 1h50m. I asked Chris if he thought we had time to add on Birthday Cake and his response was, "Let's go for it." Heck, he didn't have a plane to catch!

Heading towards Birthday Cake on the Brownstone Wall

We coiled the rope and motored up scrambling terrain and some 4th class to get to the base of Birthday Cake. Time was tight and we'd have to climb the route in about 15 minutes. Chris mentioned that it was easier than anything we'd already climbed and that we could just solo it. I agreed and I felt quite comfortable on the route. It wasn't very exposed or sustained.

We signed the summit register and then pushed the pace on the descent all the way back to the car. Chris even threw in some trotting on the smoother sections of the trail. I appreciated him pushing things a bit to lower my stress of missing my flight. As it turned out we made it in plenty of time.

What a great trip I had! I hope to start visiting Red Rocks annually now, replacing my Zion trip. There are so many long routes I want to do there, like Traffic Sands and Lone Star (11a, 21 pitches, one of the longest climbs in all Red Rocks) in Black Velvet Canyon and Blue Diamond Ridge (1500', 5.9), Lady Wilson's Cleavage (1100', 5.9), Sentimental Journey (2000', 5.9), Inti Watana (1500', 10c),  Woman of Mountain Dreams (2110', 11a), and Umimpeachable Groping (700', 10b), Paiute Pillar (1500', 5.9) in Juniper Canyon and countless other climbs.

Thanks for the great hospitality, Chris, and the excellent guiding on the Rainbow Wall!

Soloing high on Birthday Cake (5.6)

Red Rocks Trip - Day 2: Rainbow Wall

The Rainbow Wall start exactly up the sun/shadow line at the base of the wall and then continuing, roughly, straight up from there.

Strava

Photos

I awoke at 5 a.m. dressed and found Chris already drinking coffee at the table. We readied our packs the night before, but took our time to drink and eat before heading for the gate on the Loop Road, which doesn't open until 6 a.m. We were the first in the lot at the Pine Creek Canyon Trailhead and hiked west until bearing south towards Juniper Canyon and then up into it. There are steep slabs leaving the floor of this canyon to head up towards the wall and usually a fixed line is there to aid in the approach. It was gone, though. I had no trouble with my newly resoled sticky-rubber approach shoes (thanks Rock and Resole!), but Chris was wearing a pair of LaSportiva running shoes with the misleading Frixion soles. These are not dot rubber. He had to switch to his climbing shoes in order to be solid and safe. Further up on the slabs, we watched a Desert Bighorn bound down the cliffs with ease.

We got to the base of the way in an hour and fifty minutes and started to gear up. The night before, based on my poor performance on Saturday, I had insisted on bringing the ascenders and I clipped them to my harness. I'd wear our Camelback pack with two liters of Gatorade, some food, hats, headlamps, and our wind shells. We both wore long sleeves and long pants and Chris wore a vest and carried a small jacket in stuff sack clipped to his harness. A few minutes before we left the ground two climbers from Michigan showed up. John-Mark, with the lumberjack beard and Snidely Whiplash mustache, and Patrick, the bespectacled, young, powerful pharmacist, exuded positive energy. They were not, in the slightest, intimidated by this wall, which made me the odd man out. 

Chris heading up the steep, burly 11d second pitch

It didn't take long to figure out these guys were very good and here to send this wall, free. I didn't want them to discover they were following a Gumby up the wall and decided to just come clean and tell them off the bat. "I'm here to mainly belay my buddy Chris and I'll be jugging anything that's too hard for me." The Michiganies didn't seemed bothered in the least. They didn't seemed worried that we'd hold them up or interfere with their climbing in any way. I was, though. 

After Chris styled the first 11d pitch, which follows a variation left of the original two pitches, bypassing the 12a second pitch, I yelled up to Chris that I was thinking of taking my approach shoes with me. He thought that was fine, but gave no indication of understanding why I'd do this. My reasoning was that I didn't want to hold up this other party and possibly blow their chances of freeing the wall. I didn't want to hang all over these pitches and take forever to follow them and if I was just going to be jugging these pitches, I might as well be more comfortable in my approach shoes than having my toes crammed in my Muiras. 

As I prepared to follow the first pitch, intending to climb until it was too hard and then switch over to jugging, Patrick says to me, "Do not let our presence influence what you try to free climb in any way. We are here to have a great time climbing and we'll climb until 7 p.m. and then we'll turn around and it's going to be great whether we make the top or not." This was just what I needed to hear to relax me. What a great thing to say. These guys were out for three days of climbing, from busy lives in Michigan, but they weren't so set on sending this route that it would change them into guys who would pressure another. I've run into so many great people climbing, of late. My buddy Opie seems to run into the opposite type of climber when cragging out in Joshua Tree. I'm lucky, I guess.

I got up the first half of the pitch fine, as it didn't seem harder than 10-. The first real difficulties were at two closely-spaced bolts where the holds were remarkably small. You don't get holds like that in the gym. I didn't finger them long before yarding past this section, pulling on both draws. Further up, the pitch is broken down into short, powerful, sometimes cryptic, boulder problems, punctuated with decent rests. Surprisingly, I climbed the rest of the pitch clean. Granted I had a nice tight toprope by Chris, but it was encouraging.

The belay was only a tiny stance, room for one and a half people to stand. We quickly re-racked and Chris flipped the rope over to me and then he was off, cruising up the dead vertical lieback above me. When it was my turn to climb this section I'd discover that there were quite a few hidden holds up here. Alas, the crux wasn't far above. Overall this pitch seemed way more difficult than the first one, probably because it was much steeper, though given the same 11d rating. Before the crux section, Chris had to move right, out onto the face, away from the crack/seam. There were big holds out there, but they were hard to reach. Here Chris did what was to become his signature move, as far as I was concerned, as he did it at the end of the first pitch, on the third pitch, and also on the tenth pitch. Once he was able to stretch and get both hands on the holds out right, or at least close enough, he cut his feet loose and swung, Tarzan like, unto the holds. It was a bit unnerving watching this each time. I mean, I do that stuff in the gym, but we were way up a big wall. And that's the point, I guess. Chris is able to climb so hard on this wall, because he is relaxed and at home here. I'm not there yet.

Chris started up the third pitch (11a)

The crux move on this pitch is moving back to the left. Chris went up and down at least three times. That hold sucks. So does that one. That holds too far away. Eventually he committed and seemed very solid doing it. Following that section I solved it my usual way: grabbing the quickdraw. It wasn't nearly as far of a reach that way. This pitch beat me down pretty good and I hung multiple times and pulled on a few pieces of gear, but I still made the belay with my ascenders still clipped on my harness.

The third pitch is rated 11a and it was the first one I followed cleanly. Chris cruised it easily and  the holds were better than I expected. Ah, but following is different. Still, I could do the moves. I was greatly helped by the short pitch length. Besides the first pitch and the 5.7/8 pitches, no pitch was longer than 80 feet. Almost every one ended at a pretty good belay stance as well.

The fourth pitch is 11b and it goes by the "death pillar" that seems to be just sitting in the corner. You have to get on and climb up this disconcerting, booming block. Higher up you have to pass a roof by underclinging out the right side of it. It looked a lot like the 11c fourth pitch of Monkeyfinger in Zion, but it turned out to be way easier - there were actually some footholds turning this roof. Chris did a masterful job of protecting this pitch, as he did with all the pitches. He's a pro, really. Nothing fazes him and every problem is climbable, every pitch protectable. I climbed this pitch cleanly as well and I was beginning to think I might not need the ascenders after all. Before I even came down to climb with Chris, he told me not to bring ascenders. He said that we'd both be trying to free the Rainbow Wall. Freeing this wall for me, on this day, turned out to be way over my head, but the fact that Chris felt it wasn't ridiculous and that he wanted me to try, despite the probability that it would hamper his efforts, says a lot about him as a partner and a friend. Friends always see the best in you, even when you don't.

Chris leading past the "death pillar" and up to that big roof above on pitch number four (11b)

The belay above the roof was the worst on the route, nearly a pure hanging belay, but even then it wasn't too bad. Heck, I was climbing the Rainbow Wall! In fact, I'd climbed this wall more than a decade ago. I did it as an aid climb with my buddies Opie Taylor and Tim "the Toolman" Taylor, AKA "The Taylor Boys" (also known to some as Greg Opland and Tim Schneider). We hiked in, fixed a pitch or two and slept at the base. Then we climbed all the next day and bivied again on Over The Rainbow Ledge. On our third day, we took the Swainbow Wall exit, avoiding the crux upper dihedral. The latest guidebook by Jerry Handren (a stellar guidebook with excellent, inspiring photos, by the way) doesn't even describe this exit! Nor does it even indicate it can be done as an aid climb. I guess this route is only for the 5.12 climbers now... Or the ones guided by 5.12 climbers in my case.

Leading the 5.8 traverse on the ninth pitch

Chris linked pitches five (10c, 50 feet) and six (10a, 70 feet) to avoid a sub-par belay. These were both fun pitches and I felt pretty solid on the 10c pitch, which was steep, but with reasonable holds. The 10a pitch has a dicey little slab section where it felt great to be on a toprope. This put us into a ramp system that led up and right to the Over The Rainbow Ledge. Despite having done this route fifteen years ago, Chris had never been to that ledge. That's because he took the direct variation that avoided it called Rainbow Country. Instead of climbing two 5.7 pitches and a 5.8 traverse pitch, Chris climbed pitches of 11b, 11b, 12d, and 12a, though he admitted that he didn't free either 5.12 pitch back then. I would have definitely needed my ascenders had we gone that way.

Instead, I got to take the lead for the first time on the route. I led up two easy pitches to Over The Rainbow Ledge. We took a short break here, but moved on after less than fifteen minutes. I led the airy and mostly unprotected, but mostly easy, 5.8 traverse back to the left and up into the bottom of the upper dihedral.

Chris at the start of the "circus trick" boulder problem on the tenth pitch (11d+++)

The next pitch would prove to be the most baffling of the route. After a powerful start, Chris established himself on a tiny foothold where he could suss out the boulder problem above him. At first, second, and third glances it looked unclimbable to Chris. He tried numerous options and rejected them. He was probably there for twenty minutes, maybe thirty. He had a bolt nearby but a thousand feet up the wall, it was still intimidating. I figured he'd have to try something, fall, and then keep trying until he figured it out. Obviously I don't think like a pro. Chris worked out a dicey solution that suited him and then gave it everything he had. It went like this. First he got a one finger, one pad hold with his left hand in the seam in the corner. He stemmed his left foot ridiculously high out left onto a minuscule nubbin. Then he palmed and mantled a heavily chalked, severely sloping ramp-type feature on the right face. Then, with extreme body tension he lifted his right foot and smeared / jammed / torqued it into the seam in the corner. He then just had to believe, keep extreme tension and stretch his right hand for what looked like a good hold. He barely got his fingers over it and then, confidently and dynamically, matched his left hand while both feet cut loose and swung over - once again, his signature move. Yikes! But he had the move clean. The pitch clean. The route clean. No falls. So far...

Me at the top of the bouldery 10th pitch, wondering how the heck Chris is going to climb the next pitch

The rest of the corner was easier, but still felt like it had some 5.11 to me. I was able to get by this move by pulling on the draw on the bolt for so long that I could reach the good hold. The crux for me was to then unclip the draw, not drop it, and match on the hold. I think I climbed the rest of the pitch clean.

That put us at the base of the crux pitch - the 5.12a corner. The pitch is only sixty feet long and the corner itself is probably forty feet. Scanning that corner I was able to identify one, count them - one, foothold. It was the size of a pimple and so far out on the left face that when I got up that high, I just laughed. I was afraid of trying to kick my foot over there for fear I'd kick off the one foothold on the entire pitch!

Chris freeing the crux 11th pitch (12a)

As it turns out, Chris has much better vision for footholds. He sees them on nearly blank walls. Not only does he envision them, but he believes in their existence so strongly that he actually stands on these invisible, imaginary things. I guess this is the essence of mind over matter. He believes there is a foothold there because he needs to have a foothold there and hence there is a foothold there. Watching Chris lead this pitch was inspiring. The confident, powerful, graceful movement that got him up that corner and allowed him to protect it was beautiful to watch. Following this pitch I grabbed everything in sight and hung many times. I couldn't see myself doing a single move in this corner. The rating says it wasn't a lot harder than some of the other pitches, but it was above a wall in my ability that I not only couldn't do, but couldn't see how to do it.

Above the corner the climbing was "just" 5.11-, according to Chris, but it seemed over my head. I did some moves, pulled on gear for others. The end of the pitch involved some difficult and thin climbing out of the corner onto the left face to a belay stance. I was drained and I didn't even free climb it. What I did wasn't much different from climbing the rope via ascenders, but I didn't get them out and would not use them on the climb.

Chris leading the 12th and penultimate pitch (11b)

The next 11b pitch was really the last pitch that Chris had any chance of falling on and it proved to be quite hard. It started with a very tough, reachy traverse to the left, which he solved with the signature move once again. I also used my signature move: grab the draw and make a huge stretch to reach...another long sling, placed strategically for just this purpose. Chris was really getting to know me as a partner! This 11b pitch seemed quite a bit harder than the one lower down. I've blocked out exactly how much I cheated following it.

The last pitch was up flaring crack out of the cave/alcove belay and turning a bulge. It was rated 10b and the protection looked good, so I volunteered to lead it, hoping that the difficulties would be over once I turned the bulge. This indeed was the case and I then rambled up moderate terrain for a hundred feet or to a tree, nearly on the summit. Chris soon joined me and we unroped and scrambled the last few feet to the very summit of Rainbow Mountain. We soaked up the views and slapped high fives for Chris' great achievement of climbing the Rainbow Wall, all free, no falls. There was even a summit register on top and we signed in.

On the summit of Rainbow Mountain

We waited for John-Mark and Patrick to top out before descending. John-Mark had freed the entire route as well. He's a route setter back in Michigan and climbs mid 5.13, so he had the power to onsight such a challenging route. Chris and I simul-rapped the wall using our Gri-Gri's. This was the plan from the start and neither of us even had a regular rappel device. This was a bit unnerving for me, as I had never done that before, but Chris is a pro and very safe. We tied knots in both ends of the rope for each rappel. On the way down Chris told me how terrifying it was to simul-rappel with Alex Honnold. Years ago they had climbed that 2000-foot, 12d route down in Mexico together and Alex insisted on no knots in the rope ends. Chris stood his ground though and forced the knots, much to Alex's annoyance. He then told me about how Alex had free soloed this route. That blew my mind. I knew he had done harder solos, but having just climbed this route, it seemed so far beyond anything rational that I just couldn't grasp it. When Alex did it, he had only climbed the route once before, five years before the solo. Chris urged him to climb it at least once more to make sure it was all solid, but Alex didn't want to take the "adventure" out of the solo. Afterwards he'd admit to Chris that the boulder problem on the tenth pitch was perhaps the most afraid he'd ever been soloing.

Chris, Patrick, and John-Mark

We made it back to the base about twenty minutes before darkness. We had just enough time to pack up, eat and drink something, and start down the upper slabs before turning on the headlamps. After thirty minutes or so, John-Mark and Patrick caught up to us and we all hiked out together, chatting away and bonding over the climb. Chris did a masterful job leading us all back to the car by the meager light of his headlamp. We did the roundtrip from the car in just under fifteen hours. It wasn't super fast, but it was all free. At least for one of us.