Getting the 4-1-1 on the L-P-P

Photos

Strava - just descent

Today, on April 11th, Charlie and I completed month four of the Longs Peak Project. This time we went from the Glacier Gorge trailhead and hiked and skied into into Glacier Gorge, headed for the Trough.

Charlie skinning above Black Lake

We got a casual start, not even meeting in Boulder until 6 a.m. because Charlie had a date the previous night. We started hiking around 7:20 a.m. in the bright light of day. It felt so strange.

Hiking towards Black Lake, above Mills Lake

Charlie wore his new La Sportiva Trango Cube GTX boots and carried a pair of AT skis with his ski boots attached to them. I wore my Alpina Alaska NNN ski boots right from the parking lot. These boots are incredibly comfortable for hiking and it allowed me to go very light - not carrying any boots and just carrying my Asnes skis with NNN bindings on them. Skis mounted with NNN bindings had always caused me problems when trying attach them to a pack. since they have no heel section, you can't attach them with the binding - they'd be way too low. I talked with Andrew Skurka and he had a great solution that seemed so obvious once he told me. His solution was to clamp the skis together with a Voile strap (rubber strap with a buckle) and then use the camber in the skis as the attachment point to the pack. This worked great, though the skis rode a bit high, which was occasionally an issues in the woods.

  

Both Charlie and I wore Kahtoola Microspikes on our boots. While we both carried crampons (I carried Kahtoola K-10s), we were pleasantly surprised to make the summit using just the spikes, though this was very marginal in a couple of areas. I had thought we'd skin most of way to the Trough, but we ended up just walking nearly all of it, as the snow was hard enough and the going was fast. We only starting skinning above Black Lake, when the snow was a bit softer.

We stashed our skis and some extra water at the base of the Trough. As it turned out, skiing the Trough would have been fine for Charlie, but probably a bit tough for me. But, as you'll see, our method of descent was probably even faster, maybe more fun, and a lot lighter.

We had a perfect track up the 2700-vertical-foot Trough. Well, actually, I had a perfect track. Charlie did most of the work here, though he did follow some pretty fresh steps down low and then very fresh (just an hour old, as it would turn out) tracks higher up. We paced things well and were able to chat most of the time, while moving continuously. From the base of the Trough we made the summit in about two hours, roughly our standard, as it seems, 4.5 hours from the trailhead.

At the top of the Trough, we left our ski poles and switched to our ice axes. Before we headed across the Narrows I reminded Charlie and I that my friend Peter Jeffries had died when he fell off here last November. This turned out to be false. Peter died of hypothermia 200 feet below the Ledges, which connect the Keyhole to the Trough. He must have fell off the Ledges and not been able to re-ascend back to the Keyhole, probably due to injury, but I didn't find the exact details. What a tragedy for a great, young kid. But thoughts of him and his accident made us safer.

We passed a couple of Fort Collins on their way down on the Homestretch and thanked them for the track. Along with those two, who topped out just thirty minutes before us, just two others had climbed Longs since the last time Charlie and I had done it on March 21st. We spent about twenty minutes on top taking photos, eating, and drinking, though not much of the latter since we both finished all we had brought to the summit. We carefully reversed the Homestretch, acutely aware that a fall here might not be self-arrest-able. Our tiny Microspikes barely made an impression on two vary hard sections, but we were careful and used our axes to not fall.

Back in the Trough, we stowed our axes and the fun began. We first just plunge-stepped down, as the

rocks were frequent in the upper section. Once below that and on slightly less steep terrain we sat down and glissaded, descending a thousand feet in just a few minutes. So fun!

Back at our skis, we took a short break to drink and eat some more. Charlie switched back into his ski boots. We also found and carried out a large tracking collar. I assume this was for an elk, but maybe it was a bighorn sheep. Nearby we found an elk skull and wondered how long an animal that size would take to be eaten or decayed enough where nothing remains except for the collar and the skull. These are big animals and many obviously must die every year, but I've never seen a rotting carcass.

I was a bit concerned about the ski out. The terrain is very technical, very tight and wooded, off-camber, and sometimes incredibly narrow, steep, and above a creek. With my light NNN gear it proved to be quite fun, but very challenging. In fact, I consider my skill level (pretty advanced for backcountry touring gear) to be the minimum skill level for a reasonably safe descent and one that is more efficient than just walking out. Charlie seemed much more solid in his plastic boots and AT setup. Incredibly, we were able to ski to within a quarter-mile of the parking lot. We had to walk one short section around Mills Lake. 

We descended from the summit to the car in just over 2.5 hours and did the roundtrip in 7h20m for our fastest roundtrip yet. Here's the status on the Longs Peak Project:

Month	Date	Route	Success?
January	18	Loft/Clark's Arrow	No
January	29	Loft/Clark's Arrow	Yes
February	14	Northwest Couloir	Yes
March	15	D7 on the Diamond	No
March	21	North Face (Cables Route)	Yes
April	11	The Trough	Yes

Streaking

Photos

Strava

There are lots of different things that motivate me to get some exercise. One of them is streaks. I currently have a workout streak of 122 days in a row. What constitutes a workout for me is running at least four miles, climbing at the gym, or skiing or climbing or biking outside. Granted some of those days involved just doing six routes at the gym, which isn't much, but it was enough for me to keep the streak alive. My initial goal was to do 100 days in a row. My 100th day was climbing the Silk Road on the First Flatiron with Chris Weidner. After that I figured I'd take a day of rest and nearly did, but got out for flat 4-mile run in my neighborhood. Why? I don't know. Because it's fun to have a streak going. I know it isn't the best way to great athletic performance. I'm not concentrating on that now, though I'll start this coming week to train for the Bolder Boulder.

Streaks are just motivating for me and whatever helps me get exercise is a good thing. My buddy Mark then put the idea into my head of working out every day in 2015. I haven't made that a goal, though. I figure illness or injury will shut me down eventually. In fact, if it wasn't for one day of illness in November (where I still played flag football on the beach and played in the ocean), my streak would be twenty-five days longer - 147 days. When it ends, that will be fine and I'll just start another one.

I have another streak going of late. Starting with last Saturday when I climbed Longs Peak, I've done a summit every day for seven days in a row now. Some of these summits are questionable, to be sure. On Thursday I did Flagstaff, which isn't a ranked summit. Mt. Sanitas isn't a ranked summit either and I've been counting both as unique peaks for my goal of doing 52 unique summits this year (one per week). But I'm free to make my own rules.

Yesterday I climbed the First (twice) and Second Flatirons and I'm counting those as summits (notice that I don't use the word "peak" for this streak). Peter Bakwin caught me halfway up the First and we finished together and downclimbed off. Running down the trail, we first ran into Quinn Carrasco, the director of the LaSportiva Trail Running Team, of which I am a member.  We then found Adam Massey about to start up Atalanta, so I joined him for a lap. On the summit I met James Hinkley - a Superior resident like me. I didn't know him. He asked me, "Are you a Minion?" I said yes. He said, "Are you the head Minion?" I said yes. He said, "Are you Bill?" Yes, I am. Cool. I snapped a photo of him rappelling off the First and we hope to get out and scramble the Second Flatiron sometime soon.


Today, I'll have to get some summit. I can't break my streak!

Spring Break, Day 4: Window Blind Peak

Photos

Strava

This morning we had a frigid, strong wind blasting us and it wouldn’t abate for the entire day. I kept up my routine of getting up before the boys, which actually was impossible not to do, as the boys never got up without prompting. I wondered how long they’d linger in their tents if I didn’t prompt them to emerge. They enjoyed each climb but they were never chomping at the bit to get going. I’m still not sure how to interpret this. They were excited for the trip, it seemed, but they were never jumping up, eager to go climbing. 

Window Blind Peak from Assembly Hall. Our route goes up the center of that north face

We all wore our wind shells, all except Derek, who forgot his. Hats and gloves were the order of the day as well. After packing up camp, we moved a  mile back down the road to a wash and parked. We followed an old, abandoned, and barely-there mining road towards the peak and eventually into a bouldery wash leading directly for a our climb - a rib between the two “windows”.

The approach was much longer and more difficult than the day before, taking us nearly two hours to approach the climb. We had to pass through one tall, cliff band. I took a more direct approach, while Homie found the correct and easier way up, which we all took on the way down. We stopped on the east side of the rib to gear up as much as possible before going into the shade on the west side, where the route started. It was cold enough even in the sun to prompt us to climb quickly.

Homie leads the last, short pitch

We went around and up a few hundred more feet of steep, loose ground, weaving around some smaller cliffs to the base of the main wall. We saw a stuck rope here that we’d later find out was left by some friends of Homie’s. I zipped up the first 5.5 pitch, which was easy and secure climbing to a notch. Here we were all able to get out of the wind and into the sun. It was the first time I felt comfortable since getting out of my sleeping bag.

Derek scrambles the last bit to the summit

The next pitch was a rope-stretcher and rated 5.7. It was mostly really easy, but a couple of sections gave me a slight pause. The protection wasn’t great for most of the pitch, but the angle was low enough where I didn’t have any stress. I belayed on a broken ledge and brought up Arthur and Homie at the same time, having dragged two ropes behind me. Derek came up last and, after Homie led up the final 30-foot cliff/slab, we unroped and scrambled around to the west on a big ledge and then up a break to the summit. 

Arthur on the summit

We spent a long time here, soaking in the immensity of the Swell. There is so much space here and nothing in it, Just some faint roads are the only sign of any human passage. Besides Jeff and Sandy we didn’t see another person for two days. The boys and I threw rocks off the summit while Homie busied himself photographing every page in the summit log book.

We got down with one 200-foot, free-hanging rappel. On the way down I unstuck the rope and we pulled it down. Arthur packed it out, hoping to use it as a gym rope. After talking with Homie’s friends, Sarah and Dominic, we knew the rope was relatively new. The color wasn’t faded at all, but it was a bit stiff.

Homie at the notch belay, atop the first pitch

We reversed back to the vehicles and let Derek and Arthur do the route finding on the way back. They did a good job and we didn’t get lost. Derek did most of the trying on the way home, with Arthur, who only has a permit, taking an hour-long stretch to spell Derek. We arrived home at 11:30 p.m. It was only four days, but all were very successful and the boys are game for another trip, so at least I didn’t sour them on desert adventure climbing.

Spring Break, Day 3: Assembly Hall

Photos

Strava

We drove twenty miles off I-70 into the northern part of the San Rafael Swell, out to a small, primitive, 8-site campground in the middle of nowhere. The most striking climbing objective here is Bottleneck Peak, whose easiest route is a 5.11 fist crack through a roof. That wasn’t on our list for this trip. We were interested in Assembly Hall (5.10) and Window Blind Peak (5.7).

Our camp in the Swell

After selecting a campsite and throwing up our tents, we wandered over to chat up the only other people in the campground, an older couple. They noticed our plates and asked where in Colorado we were from. When I responded with “Boulder area”, they asked, “Do you know Max and Charlie Nuttelman?” I couldn’t believe it. “Yes,” I said, “Charlie happens to be my main climbing partner this year.” And then he said, “Are you Bill?” Crazy. In the middle of nowhere. This was Jeff and Sandy, good friends of the Nuttelmans and they related the news of Max’s son being born just the day before. Cool.

The next morning it was chilly and our route lay in the shade, so Homie and I let the boys sleep a bit. They boys are prodigious sleepers. After we got home from this trip, Derek would sleep 13 hours one night! That’s amazing to me, but Arthur slept 16 hours! That’s nearly the equivalent of three nights’ sleep for me! I guess that’s when kids do the most growing. Apparently Arthur is going to be seven feet tall.

Scrambling up the bowl above the first 5.10 pitch, headed for the second one.

Locked and loaded, we hiked cross-country towards the main bowl on the north side of the peak. Scrambling up a wash and passing a short cliff band with the help of a fixed line, we arrived at the base of the route. A steep, short cliff barred access to the upper 2nd and 3rd class bowl. Two cracks on the right, rated at 5.10, allowed us to gain the upper bowl. The cracks protected well and were slightly less than vertical. I figured it would be cruiser climbing, but they were an awkward width and the rock was extremely sandy. I’m fine with a 5.10- rating here, but after Homie climbed it clean he said, “That can’t be 5.10. I can’t climb 5.10.” Arthur took a fall following it, but he’s very new to crack climbing. Still, it couldn’t have been that easy. Derek got this pitch clean as well.

Homie and Arthur on the main summit

We scrambled hundreds of feet up to the upper headwall, where a bolt-protected 5.10 pitch awaited. There were six bolts (the seventh is a belay bolt) on this 130-foot pitch, so it would be massively runout if that’s all the gear you used. I carried a substantial rack and was able to get in more gear, though lots of it in questionable rock. This is sandy, adventure climbing. 

I picked my way up the pitch carefully and found at these two sections pretty challenging. I set up a belay in broken, scrambling terrain above. Arthur  and then Homie came up next, both utilizing the gear as handholds. This is well within Arthur’s free climbing ability, but the climbing is strange and the rock quality so suspect that he didn’t want to risk a fall. Derek tried to free the pitch and nearly did. He took just one fall and didn’t pull on any gear.

We were able to scramble the remaining distance to the main summit, where we found a summit register. Much to Arthur’s dismay, though, this wasn’t the highest summit and with Homie the highest summit isn’t just a bonus, it’s a requirement. We traversed the plateau to the southern end and I fixed a rope so that we could rappel down into the notch. It wasn’t obvious how we were going to return, as the rappel was overhanging and the climbing looked difficult and dangerous. We had one ascender with us and could use a prussic knot if required.

Arthur rappelling into the notch between the summits

From the notch we climbed a short, very loose cliff and then found a secret passage up to the summit. We relaxed here, enjoying the view and snacking. We reversed back to the notch and I roped up to lead us out of there. My first thought proved too difficult and dangerous and I traversed right on easier and more solid rock. I gained a ledge and found a short squeeze chimney on the right that allowed secure, if physical, climbing back to the main summit. I was impressed how well the others did with their squeeze technique.

Derek on the highest summit with Window Blind Peak in the background

We scrambled back down to the top of the 5.10 headwall and found rappel anchors off toe west. A double rope rappel put us back at the base of the wall. We scrambled down to the two-bolt anchor atop the first wall and were soon back on the ground, eating again.

Belaying the others back to the main summit

Just before we arrived back at camp, we went by a sizable sandstone boulder. Arthur is on the climbing team at the Denver Movement gym and had been primarily bouldering for training, hence he couldn’t resist trying a few problems. The rock quality was suspect, but we found and did four unique problems to the summit, ranging from 5.2 to probably V2. It was a great way to end the day and there was lots of laughing going on as we all demonstrated our heels hooks and drop knees. Even Homie topped out the boulder. 

Homie squeezing back to the main summit

Derek doing the same

Bouldering fun

Spring Break, Day 2: Ancient Art

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No Strava - stupid Garmin software...

After pizza, we drove out to the Fisher Towers. There is a campground there, but it only has five sites and all were taken. Actually, one site didn’t have a car there, but it had a tag reserving the site. I pulled up to another site where a couple was sitting at the picnic table. They had an SUV that was pulling a tiny habitat and hence, had not tent up. I put down my window and started chatting them up. Their names were Mica and Michelle and they had a vizsla named Ruby, who was very affectionate. I asked if we could park by their site and throw up our tents. They looked inside the car and saw two clean-cut teenagers and nodded their assent. We immediately hit it off with all three of them and joined them around their campfire.

The next morning, after I got up, made coffee, ate breakfast,  packed my tent, I tried to roust the boys. This was less than successful. I was gentle with them. They are strong, young boys, but their psyche is in an especially delicate balance at this time of day. I mentioned that there was no great rush at this point, but a party had already left, presumably for the same route. Arthur responded with, “So, there’s no need to rush, but rush anyway.” I sometimes do rush to get onto a climb before the crowds, but not this morning. This was as un-rushed as I can be when it comes to climbing. This young padawan still had a lot to learn.

Packs loaded and attitudes adjusted, we marched along the trail toward Ancient Art. It is only a mile to the base of the route and we soon arrived to watch the team in front of us climbing the chimney pitch. They had a couple of friends watching them from the base and they were desperately trying to stay out of the gale-force winds. These winds were so strong that it prevented this first party from standing on the very top and we wondered if it would do the same to us.

I had to put some pressure on Derek to get him to change into long pants, but he relented and was very glad for this higher up. We all wore light jackets as well. 

Arthur did all the belaying on this tower and followed last, reversing roles with Derek from the previous day. I elected to break up the first pitch into two very short ones, as the guidebook recommended this for free climbing and it makes sense to me since the crux climbing is on the second pitch and quite delicate.

I zipped up easy, 5.6 cracks to a spacious ledge and brought the boys up.

The next pitch is only about forty feet long, but has the toughest moves of the climb. You climb up a broad scoop where delicate and creative stemming are required since the handholds to surmount one budge are too small for me to use. Thankfully the climbing is closely bolted - it’s actually a bolt ladder - and many parties just pull through. You can climb this tower with just 5.8 free climbing and aid the rest. All free the tower goes at 5.10 and that’s the way we did it.

I worked out the feet and was quickly at the belay. Derek followed and experienced the same “there are no holds” consternation that I did. After he checked the slab above the bulge three or four times to make sure he wasn’t missing any holds, he worked out the very cool footwork and arrived at the belay. Arthur didn’t have the patience to figure out the footwork, but he did have 5.12+ crimping strength and just bore down on a microscopic crystal, one that I never even considered as a hold, and pulled up. It was impressive.

The next pitch is a really fun 100-foot chimney pitch that is climbed mostly via stemming on great holds. This pitch is just so fun and both the boys loved it. It ends on a huge ledge with three fat rappel/belay bolts and we hung out there, waiting for the party above to descend. You can’t really continue upwards from here until the rest of the route is cleared, as there isn’t any room for a second party.

The other party took awhile getting back down to us because they were worried about the wind blowing their rappel lines around the tower and getting stuck. So the leader slowly rapped down while carrying both ropes coiled on his harness. We’d do something much simpler and quicker - lower Arthur on one rope and feed him the other rope.

With the path to the summit cleared, I headed up the another short, well-protected 5.10 section to reach the plank - a find of rock that connects with the final tower. I thought this section was easier than the second pitch, but it did involve getting a hidden hold high on the left. Derek had some trouble finding and using this hold, but he didn’t come off. Nor did Arthur. Both boys onsighted the entire tower, which was cool. My first time climbing this tower I pulled on all these bolts.

Arthur had entertained thoughts of leading the last pitch but the wind was so ferocious that we agreed it wasn’t a good idea. I showed the boys my “cheat” to avoid the bellyflop move onto the diving board and climbed to the summit. The winds were still ripping, but I stood up quickly before I could have second thoughts. Derek snapped my photo and I reversed down to the rappel anchor, which is slings wrapped entirely around the tower and about eight feet down from the top. I clipped in and threaded my rope through the anchor. I didn’t want the boys to have to deal with this. Arthur then lowered me back down to the belay.

Derek went next and tried to walk the plank but the wind was still too great. We both squatted and reached across the dip in the plank. Derek and Arthur both had to flip their rope around the tower while climbing it, as it traverses around the backside. The crux move on this pitch is a very high step onto a pebble while turning an overhanging bulge. Derek and Arthur both made this step look a lot easier than I did.

The winds started to die a bit and Derek was comfortable standing on top. The four-hundred feet of exposure didn’t bother him in the slightest. The winds were even lighter for Arthur, but still there. Arthur walked the plank entirely. Clearly he wasn’t intimidated by the drop. He cruised up to the top for his photo and that was it. The descent went smoothly, despite having to rappel by a party of three and another party of two. At the base we found another party of three and another party of two queued up. No one was antsy, though, as the tower is short and the weather was good. So, fifteen people climbed Ancient Art that day and these were the only climbers we saw. This isn’t surprising as the rest of the Fisher Towers are hard, scary aid climbs or pretty extreme free climbs.

We hiked out and drove out to Green River. We were meeting Homie there to head into the Swell. Homie, obviously an avid peak bagger, declined to join us for Ancient Art. I think he thought the tower to be so improbable that it could fall over at any moment. Thankfully it didn’t while we were on it, but it won’t last forever.

Spring Break, Day 1: Independence Monument

Photos

Strava

After I got back from Longs Peak, I took just a couple of hours to pack for this trip. Whenever I pack fast, two things happen:

1. I take way too much stuff

2. I forget stuff

We were packed to the gills, but thankfully Arthur doesn’t take up much room and never complained though he was sandwiched in the back seat by a wall of gear that threatened to bury him in an avalanche if I took a turn too fast. Despite all this I forgot a cap, the charger for my laptop, a summit pack, and any water source that could be clipped to my harness.

I did all the driving on the way out and the boys handled it all on the way back. Since I had arisen at 3:45 a.m. that day, I was fading by the time we got to Rifle. I pulled off at a rest stop to see if it met our high standards for camping. It did and we bivied on flat grass, nestled in the shade of the visitor center/bathroom (from the light posts). Nevertheless, the camping proved difficult for my companions.

First, Arthur kept sliding off this pad. Later he would complain about the pronounced slope. Derek was in his 0.5-pound sleeping bag, good down to about 60 degrees if it isn’t windy and the temperature dropped into the 20’s. He had a rough night and didn’t sleep much. I found this out when we both got up to pee around 4 a.m. I felt only a little guilty in my -40-degree bag. This trip was about teaching the boys how to take care of themselves on long, multi-pitch trad climbs, but also on a climbing trip in general. I wanted them to pack for themselves, select the gear they needed, plan ahead, know what jobs needed to be done, etc. I gave them both a list of gear to bring and both of them pretty much ignored it. I discovered Arthur’s deficiencies before we left my house and gave him hat, gloves, headlamp, etc. But I didn’t know that Derek only packed the smallest bag and he didn’t even bring a shell. Both would be mistakes. Clearly, there were still some things for these boys to learn.

When I realized that Derek was hurting in the cold, I set an early wake-up time: 5:45 a.m. Homie had joined us a couple of hours after we threw down the bags, but we were asleep. He thought about inviting us into his van to sleep and Derek would have appreciated that, but decided against waking us. I went over and tapped on his van door, telling him the plan, which was to drive to the McDonald’s in Fruita for breakfast. Upon arrival there, Derek was still semi-comatose from lack of sleep and overall misery. Arthur and I went inside and got ourselves a coffee and I got a sandwich. Homie joined us and, eventually, Derek, too. After eating, we packed up for the climb. Five minutes down the road, we pulled into the parking lot, just in time to see a party of three heading out with climbing packs. We weren’t concerned and I quelled my desire to blast past this team. We were a team of four with only one leader and these three could be bad-asses for all I knew. In Boulder I’d just assume that, but, as we’d find out, Grand Junction is not Boulder.

We hiked the beautiful trail into Monument Canyon. When the massive Independence Monument appeared over the horizon I couldn’t help, once again, envisioning it as a giant, rock beast, kept captive in this canyon. We’d only be successful on our climb if we tread lightly and crept up on it. Then, like mites on humans, we’d tiptoe up the skin of the great beast and it would be none the wiser. 

At the base of Otto’s Route we found quite the traffic jam. Already at the top of pitch one were two people with their third still on the ground. Queued up behind them was a party of two and behind them the party of three that hiked in just ahead of us. I’m not well-suited to wait for so many parties, so I marched the group around to the sunny south side and over to the base of the Scorpion Crack route. I’d done this route once before with the Loobster. The first pitch has some aid climbing on it, but I remembered it as a pretty short section and, from the base, it appeared that way. 

We dropped the packs and geared up. I didn’t have any specific aid gear, but felt I could manage well enough by just stepping in some slings. Derek gave me an expert belay and between the two of us, we got the rope up to the top of the first pitch. Only the first half of the short pitch was aid climbing and it seems well within reach of today’s top climbers to free it. But it was well out of my reach. The upper section was probably 5.8 climbing, but pretty sandy and it definitely had my attention.

I had left a lot of gear and slings behind for the other three to use, since we didn’t have any ascenders either. Everyone would have to repeat the aid moves that I did. Arthur climbed second and did an excellent job, using his gym power to make good progress yanking on gear, though he seemed to spend half his time chalking up. 

Homie came up next and had a bit more trouble. He was the only one in the group that hadn’t been climbing regularly in the gym. Hiking up a 14er, he could have carried us all, but climbing up an overhanging rock wall, he had some trouble hoisting just himself. He knew how to conserve his energy, though, and didn’t flail and didn’t get frustrated. He slapped a prussic on the other rope, the one, heading down to Derek, still on the ground, and methodically made his way up the pitch.

Derek was batting clean-up and would for the entire climb. It was his job to pull out all the gear that everyone else has pulled on and stood on. Of course, by removing this gear, he could no longer pull on it. He had to do a bit more real rock climbing, but he managed. A couple of stoppers were wedged very tight and Derek got to learn the technique of using a cam as a hammer on the nut tool. He did a great job removing all the gear on the entire climb.

The next pitch was very easy, up a ramp to a stance with two bolts. The chimney above looked very long, so I opted to belay here, probably only seventy feet higher. Everyone scrambled up this pitch in one time and I set to work on the meat of the route. The chimney pitch started with a vertical offwidth section and it stymied me for a bit. I tried a couple of things and retreated back down to the belay. Then, with a #3.5 Camalot placed high and deep in the crack, I grunted out the offwidth moves, just barely. This felt more like 5.9 to me.

Above this ten-foot crux section the climbing continued up a wide crack, but the angle laid back and it was relatively easy for the next fifty feet, where I found another ledge and two more bolts. The chimney still looked long and I set up another belay. This, as it turns out, was a very good decision. I could have easily combined the ramp pitch with the offwidth pitch, but this belay is mandatory.

All three of my companions pulled on gear for the offwidth section. This is completely understandable. You can’t train for that in the gym and there were no face holds on which to cheat. Derek tried to stem a bit of the upper section and a hold broke on him and he fell onto the rope. I kept a tight rope on everyone and they made the belay with a minimum of fuss. 

This climb was proving to be much harder than what we had planned, yet everyone was taking it in stride and not getting frustrated. The boys didn’t seem to mind in the least that they weren’t able to free all the pitches. They knew this trip was about learning some new techniques. 

The climbing had been slanting up and right across the south face, but now the chimney was straight above us. As I started this pitch, Homie instructed me to “make this one look easy, would you?” The pitch started with another nasty offwidth on the right, but I could just barely stem to a small corner on the left and was able to grunt my way upwards. The climbing was challenging, though and just a few moves off the belay Homie notified me that I had failed.

This pitch was long, steep, and continuous. One memorable section climbed a 0.75-Camalot crack with the help of a squeeze chimney. Both the crack and the chimney were very difficult widths, but together they seemed like 5.9 climbing. Tough, burly, strange 5.9 climbing. Meaning, there was liberal gear tugging by my companions once again.

I also screwed up badly when leading this pitch. I was dragging two ropes so that I could belay two climbers at once and keep the team moving, but I treated Homie’s line like a haul line and failed to clip it into any gear. This would have been fine if the chimney stayed vertical the entire way, but at the top I had to enter deep into the chimney that now slanted hard to the right again. This had the effect of putting Homie in some danger, for if he fell he’d swing into the deep chimney and probably become permanently wedged in there, like a stuck hex. He toughed it out and walked up some of my gear to protect himself. I was thankful he didn’t chew me out when he got to the belay ledge and made sure to start apologizing before he got within swinging distance of me.

We had now joined Otto’s Route and met up with the party of three that we’d have been behind if we’d waited on them. So, we didn’t gain any ground on the other climbers, but we were at least busy climbing instead of just waiting around to climb. Everyone cruised the short 5.8 face pitch up to the last gigantic ledge. The only thing left was the airy summit pitch.

This pitch is supposedly 5.9 and maybe it is, but it’s 5.9++. The crux is short, but overhanging. You climb up the footholds and handholds carved in the rock by Otto, but the footholds are now just sloper scoops. The handholds are solid 3-finger pockets that are very positive, but with little help from your feet the climbing is still burly. I moved quickly and made it over the lip before my arms gave out. Arthur could have hung on down there for an hour, I’m sure, and easily sent the pitch. Homie did some expedient pulling on the draws and was up in no time. Derek cruised as well. He’d done this pitch once before when he was about ten years old. He dangled quite a bit then, but now it was so easy for him.

There actually is seven more feet of climbing above the anchors for this pitch to reach the actual summit and Arthur, Homie, and Derek all topped out ahead of me. We signed the register and ate the only food anyone thought to bring: Homie’s sunflower seeds.

The descent went smoothly. A double-rope rappel to a single-rope rappel to another double-rope rappel. I sent the boys down on their Gri-Gri’s on this tower, since I forgot to bring in regular belay/rappel devices for them. I just fixed one of the lines before then went down.

We traversed back around to the south side of the tower to pick up the gear we left at the base. After a quick snack, we packed up and hiked out. We ate at Dominos Pizza that night and then headed out to the Fisher Towers for the night. For a guy who, granted, is getting quite tall, Arthur is still rail-thin. Yet, he can pack away the pizza. He devoured more than half a large pizza after the climb.

LPP: March Success on North Face

Charlie and Homie at the base of the North Face's crux pitch

Photos

Strava

Charlie's Trip Report

After getting our butts thoroughly kicked on the Diamond six days ago, Charlie and I needed an easy win to keep the Longs Peak Project going. The first time I did the LPP I also failed on the Diamond in March. I then had to recruit Homie to team up with me on the Northwest Couloir route to save March. I once tried to link up climbing Longs Peak with biking up Mt. Evans in the same day. After I failed at this solo, I recruited Homie to team up with me for the Longs ascent. Each time, Homie was the key to success. So, what do you think I did? Yup. Recruited Homie to join us.

Charlie contemplating the North Face

Homie's a Colorado 14er legend. He's climbed the 14ers three times over, I think, and done over 300 peak-months of the 14er grid. He tried for the 14er speed record once and stopped due to injury, but not before climbing 41 14ers in just seven days! He's also done 53 14ers in winter. Alas, this ascent would not qualify as a winter ascent, since winter officially ended the day before.

We chose the North Face, as it is the shortest route. We were burning a match that we'd hoped to save for December, but we'll deal with that. Maybe we'll save the Keyhole or Keplinger's Couloir for December. Neither one a gimme at that time of year, but technically pretty easy.

Since I was leaving for Grand Junction the same day, to start Spring Break with my son and nephew, we met early. Homie picked me up at 4:10 a.m. and we met Charlie in north Boulder at 4:30. We were hiking at 5:39 a.m. Snow conditions were good and the weather was nice. I led up through the trees and turned over the leading to Charlie once the postholing began. It wasn't bad, though, says the guy in back. Homie didn't want to taint our ascent, so he said, and therefore didn't break any trail or carry any gear. Hey, you don't get up so many peaks in winter without being wily.

Traversing above the technical pitch

We found an old track leading up to the North Face and I took over the postholing duties. I figured I'd lead the technical pitch since Charlie had done most of the leading last week. I think I've always led this pitch whenever I've climbed it. Strange that it has always worked out that way, as I don't need to lead it.

Homie trying to warm his feet on the summit

Today it was covered mostly in snow. There was some cause for concern, though, as the snow wasn't very thick and my crampons would frequently go down to the rock slab below. I place the three cams and two slings that I brought with me, so I carried the perfect rack, so to speak. I was wearing my LaSportiva Crossover trail running shoes again, but with a new pair of Kahtoola Flight Boots over them. My buddy Danny at Kahtoola had a leftover pair of these discontinued products and graciously offered them to me. I had him cut off the built-in snowshoe cleats so that I could better fit the Kathoola crampons on them. This is the setup that I used trailhead-to-trailhead. Charlie used a brand new pair of Trango Cubes and Homie used the very light Explorer Mids. The latter here are really just a high-top, sticky rubber hiking shoe and are not intended for lengthy stretches buried in snow at 14,000 feet with temperatures below 20 degrees. While we had sun and no wind, there was a quite cold stretch on the North Face and Homie's feet froze. And he isn't prone to getting cold at all. He just went too light on the footwear.

Above the technical pitch, I continued leading, breaking trail. There was no sign of climbers on the technical pitch or above it. We learned from another party that despite the great weather last Sunday no one made it up the North Face with at least one party turning around due to fear of avalanche. We felt conditions were safe enough, but continued roped clear to the summit and back. Charlie took over the trail breaking for the last three hundred vertical feet.

We spent a good thirty minutes on the summit so that Homie could re-warm his frozen feet. He went through the very painful process of defrosting while Charlie and I enjoyed perfectly still conditions. Only seven people had made the summit since our February ascent. No one had climbed Longs between our January and February ascents. I know that number will increase each month until probably peaking in August.

Descending to the rappel anchors

The descent went smoothly and we were back at the car a little after 1 p.m., doing the roundtrip under eight hours. Homie was my lucky charm once again. Charlie and I have now done three months, a quarter of the way there and done with some of the toughest months. We'll go again in mid-April, possibly up the Trough and see if we can ski some of the approach. If we do that, I'll go in my NNN ski boots and it will make for my sixth different boots in six attempts.