Soul Destroying Wallowing Up Mt Huntington

Near the top of Mt Huntington

There is nothing like a big mountain in Alaska to motivate one to train hard throughout the winter. Janelle and I punched the workout clock on a regular basis the last 6 months, making sure that we arrive at Big Snowy in prime time condition. Nordic skiing, backcountry skiing, ice climbing, guiding a Peru expedition to climb 18K’ peaks, and several rando races where all on the menu.

Living in a ski town allowed for easy access to the backcountry, which was our preferred workout routine. Probably the best part about ski touring 8,000 vertical feet in one day somehow turns an entire package of Oreos into a single serving (yet another example of the human mind having the ability to rationalize anything).

We moved out of our rental in Crested Butte at the end of April, back into our van, Lulu, which is now our only home. Are you considered “homeless” if your place of residence gets 20 miles per gallon?

Wanting to be as strong as possible for Alaska, and wanting to have a little bit of summer prior to being locked in the glacier icebox, we headed first to Indian Creek. The climbing there is never ending, and no matter how many times we visit it seems as though we have barely scratched the surface.

Janelle climbing in Indian Creek, UT Super Crack area

Indian Creek was followed by two 50 Classic busts. We tried unsuccessfully to get permission to climb Shiprock, and got frozen off the Petit Grepon in Rocky Mt National Park [we are going to keep knocking on the Najavo Nation door until permission is granted]. Wanting to lick the wounds of my pride by getting to the top of something, anything, we pointed Lulu north to Washington State.

Descending Eldorado Peak, North Cascades, WA

Here we had great success with the two-week high pressure that settled in over the state in May. We completed the Forbidden Ski Tour, skied Eldorado Peak, and skied Mt. Shuksan. Come to find out that both of these ski descents are in Davenport’s book, “Fifty Classic Ski Descents”….the next project maybe?! Both descents are super worthy.

Jon Swain ripping it down the summit coulior on Mt Shuksan, WA

It was then time to make our final preparations for Alaska. Stuffing four duffle bags, each with 50 lbs worth of down products, sharp metal, and tons of camping gear, is quite a task. We did all this at Golden Gardens Park in Seattle, which borders the Pacific on a busy Saturday. I am proud to say that we made even the most seasoned Seattleite turn their head and stare, wondering what we were doing.

It’s a quick flight up to Anchorage where our good friend Bob Lohr picked us up.  This is the third year in a row he and his wife have extended their hospitality, and their Costco card, to us. With a packed SUV we headed further north to spend time with Janelle’s maid of honor, her husband, and their three kids. Any curiosity the Seattleites had for what all our equipment was for what dwarfed by the amazing curiosity of 3-year-old Jeremiah and his little sister.
“Watts dis?”
“Those are skis, for going fast on snow.”
“Watts dis?”
“That’s an ice tool….oh, lets play with something else.”
“Watts dis?”
“That’s a ski pole, its for helping keep your balance.”
“Why?”
“umm….I don’t know how to answer that question.”

The thriving metropolis of Talkeetna (population 876) was full of tourists, and we were happy to add to that number. Weather delayed the flight onto the glacier a day, so we got to hang out an extra night, which turned out to be a great way to settle the nerves after all the luggage schlepping.

The morning of May 23^rd was nice enough to fly. Amped, we changed out of our street clothes for our techy climbing clothes. The Tokositna Glacier is not nearly as popular as the Kahiltna Glacier, so we were in a plane by ourselves with none other than the owner of Talkeetna Air Taxi, Paul Roderick. He has been flying climbers in and out of the mountains for a long time and really does a great job.

On the glacier there was one one other party of two. We dragged our supplies 100 yards away from them and set up camp. The two other climbers had their sites on the West Face Couloir Route, and gave us a report that one other group had climbed the Harvard prior to their arrival, which was 10 days before now.

Mark climbing the first snow/ice section on Huntington

The following morning we woke at 7AM and were enroute around 8:30. The trail was kicked in to where the two routes diverge. Once on the fresh snow we sunk up to our knees and the progress slowed considerably. Moral was high so we put our heads down and pushed through it to the bergshrund, where we roped up and started simal-climbing. It really is amazing how quickly one can cover ground when not pitching things out. 3.5 hours of deep snow, a little ice climbing, and a lot of knee deep wallowing brought us to the base of the Spiral feature.

More simal climbing

This is the first of several mixed climbing pitches. M5 is the Supertopo rating. I don’t mix climb that much, so I was nervous. This was evident in the amount of cams I brought….many. Ditching the pack, I racked up and was off. There was a lot of snow covering the rock, which had to be removed. I hooked and pulled my way up little by little. Having a fifi hook was nice when things got cruxy. I would fifi into the highest piece, and start excavating snow and ice to get down to rock, hook my tools onto some stupid-tiny granite crystal the size of a pencil eraser, and pull up to the next placement.

Mark starting out on the Spiral section of, M5

The first anchor on the Spiral consisted of three old pitons at a hanging stance. More mixed climbing followed, which opened up into a 65-degree snow slope. The snow was fluffy, so I had to dig a vertical trench to make upward progress. This was both time consuming and exhausting. The heavy snow year covered up most of the fixed belays, so I dug for 20 minutes to expose a crack for an anchor, 195 feet above the last.

Mark aiding the Nose Pitch, C1

The next pitch was the most memorable. We took the farthest left of the three options listed on the topo. The asterisk on this option reads, “not recommended” due to hard mixed climbing on loose rock. This is where the large amount of snow was in our favor. It created an ice ramp on one side of this steep chimney, which I was able to place screws in the whole way up. With my back against one wall and four metal points biting into the ice on the other, I wormed my way up the 120ish foot pitch to a bolted anchor.

Hauling the packs on a frozen anchor

Two more snow wallowing pitches brought us to the Nose, it had been just over 13 hours since leaving basecamp. We were tired. Still more snow shoveling had to be done to make a bivy ledge. For weight savings we opted to just bring our Nemo Transformer Tarp as a shelter, and leave the proper tent behind. Rigging this to the bolts on the rock wall, and draping it over the snow walls Janelle created, was home for the night. It worked pretty well, but several snow spindrifts came in unabated by the tarp. The key to sleeping in this situation is to get really tired first!

Janelle high on Huntington

Unfortunately, the snow continued throughout the night. Not wanting to get avalanched off the mountain we reluctantly turned our sites downhill the next morning. We really dragged our feet making breakfast, as descending what we had just climbed was going to be no easy task. Around 10:30AM a pocket of blue sky passed over us. Shortly thereafter the snow subsided, and we decided to continue upwards. We had four pitches to get to the easy escape of the W. Face Coulior, which is what we descend if need be.

Janelle following the Nose Pitch

The Nose pitch is pure aid climbing. I was happy to have the experience gained by climbing the Nose in Yosemite to apply those skills here. It was straightforward C1 aid climbing up a 95-degree rock wall. Again the fifi hook was clutch. As I pulled over the slight roof my stomach dropped, this new 70-degree rock face was covered with 6 inches of snow and rotten ice. I had to excavate about 40 square feet of snow to get across to the where I hoped a fixed anchor would be waiting. I dug a while and revealed a fixed piton. This was like a treasure hunt. Making my way across this section took forever. I got to the anchor and had to chop at it for a while to extract the slings from three inches of ice. Janelle jugged the pitch, while helping push up the packs that I was hauling.

More trench warfare followed for another 400 steep vertical feet, where the West Face Couloir and Harvard routes merge. Our “trail” below looked like we just installed a half pipe in the side of the mountain. At this junction we were also able to look down the W. Face Couloir, which is thousands of feet of 50-70 degree perfect glacier ice. This would be our exit on the descent.

From here we had to go up 50 feet then down 80 feet, and traverse a scary unprotectable snow slope. The rock face we traversed beneath had no cracks for pro, but we survived.

Janelle 1500' below the top

Nearing the upper snowfield Janelle took the lead and punched a deep trail up and right, hacked through a corniced wind lip, and built an anchor in the rock. I took the lead on one more time consuming pitch which brought us to the point where it was a straight shot to the summit ridge. I was beat. Janelle was not. She unlocked this section, punching the route straight up to the ridge. We simal-climbed the whole way, literally taking one step up and 9/10^th of a step back through the powder.

Near the top, we didnt take any "money" shots while on the summit

On the summit ridge it really started snowing, yet it was happy snow. That is to say there was no wind, and the flakes fell slowly to the ground. We pushed along the ridge until right under the final crux, an overhanging 40-foot wall of alpine ice. I dropped my pack, and went for it. It was pretty fun climbing this section, swinging tools on an overhanging ice wall, so close to the top of mountain in Alaska. How often does that happen?

A few hundred feet later we had run out of mountain to climb, it was 10:30PM. The snow had stopped and we had a semi clear view of the surrounding peaks, it was amazing.

Rapping down the West Face Coulior

The descent went smoothly as we were able to find ice for V-threads when we needed it. We rapped right down into the featured called the Cave, where we spent the night. The following morning it took us about four hours to rap down the W. Face Couloir and get back to the tent. The other group left V-threads all the way down the face, which helped greatly.

Back at camp, soaking in the victory

Back at camp we kicked off our boots, sat on as many pads as we could shove under our butts, and indulged in a lot of junk food. Alternating between salty and sweet food until our bellies were tight and happy. #36 was complete, and we slept with smiles on our faces. 

Clyde Minaret in Subwarm Temperatures

Clyde Minaret from the road

We knew that trying to climb an alpine route at 12,000’ in October was risky, but we wanted to squeeze every once of climbing out of the fall before winter locked its grip on the Sierras. Besides, the Clyde Minaret is one of the easiest climbs on the Classic Climbs list so we went for it, even though the forecast was calling for 30% chance of snow/rain.

The hike up to Minaret Lake passed quickly.  One hundred year old ponderosa pines, rushing creeks, and the occasional songbird that was hardy enough to make it through the Sierra winter occupied our minds during the hike. Dark clouds were ripping past the Clyde when we arrived. It made my fingers cold just thinking about touching that damp, 30 degree, shaded rock.

The next morning was cold, so we slept in. Eventually a few blue-sky sucker holes popped through the blanket of grey, which gave us hope and motivation to get out of our warm sleeping bags.

The mountain came in and out of view as we hiked to its base. Neither one of us said much as we crossed the mini snowfield, as we knew this was going to be a cold climb.  Not to say that climbing in the cold is as bad as sitting in city traffic, but we had been hoping that this “easy” classic climb would be warm and sunny as most other Sierra climbs tend to be.

We roped up and started climbing. Following the path of least resistance along the approach ramp, and then up into a huge dihedral. Thankfully we were able to climb the easier parts with gloves on, and still move quickly up the steep face. Occasionally the sun would break through and we would both stop to soak in the warmish rays.

The climbing was pretty good, a few loose rocks here and there, but a good climb nonetheless.  We made it to the top in a few hours, signed the book we found in the bomber metal summit register, and then had to decide how to get back down.

The topo suggested descending a couloir to the south, but we opted for the rappels to the north, as we did not bring crampons for the bulletproof snow we saw in the couloir on the way up. This descent was the highlight for me. We had to figure things out, make a couple of our own anchors, and chimney through the moat at the base, where the snow field pulled away from the rock, leaving a 20 foot tall hallway we had to pass through.

We got back to camp around six and decided to hike out that night, most of which we did under headlamp. It’s pretty nice to hike at night. The miles pass quickly. We made back to Lulu, drove back to Mammoth Lakes, and fell asleep quickly on a side road in the warmth of our nice soft bed in the van.

The Southeast Face of the Clyde Minaret is definitely worth the hike, but I recommend climbing it when the forecasted high is at least 65 degrees, instead of 40!

***To see the video from the experience visit: smileysproject.com ***

Second Half of Half Dome

Expectations are ever present when returning to a previously attempted climb. In 2010 Mark and I tried to finish our climbing season in Yosemite, CA on the picturesque Half Dome. We were unsuccessful. I was tired from a demanding summer full of adventures and planning and was not too thrilled to jump on another climb, but I knew it meant a lot to Mark, so off we went.

To get to the base of the route we scaled up steep rocks slabs.  Followed by even steeper pitches, including hand over hand rope moves, all this while carrying a heavy haul bag. This was on Mark’s back because the shear weight of it was beyond my ability to carry. We thought it would be a good idea to spend the night half way up the route, which meant we had to haul all our equipment up the wall. Four pitches up and many hours later we had not moved very far up the wall. Our bag was getting caught on everything; we were not going to make it to the sleeping ledge at the pace we were going.

So we bailed.
Not a word was spoken the rest of the day.
It was not Mark’s idea to bail.

Like last year, Half Dome was the final climb on our schedule for the year, but we were both ready to finish the climb this time. We had to get up 23 pitches using only 11 hours of daylight. This race would be demanding.

We started climbing at 4am. To save time, we each attached ourselves to a fixed rope with a Petzl Tibloc (a simplified ascending device) to self-belay ourselves. Without a proper belay, we had to be in the mindset that we were basically free soloing the first five pitches. If one of us did  fall the Tibloc would bit on the rope, and arrest the fall (hopefully). It was too scary to trust it, so we climbed like we were not going to fall.

Right off the bat I realized my shoes were too big…. What? I had worn them before several times, so why now were they too big? I started slipping and sliding around in them so I put on my socks to fill the void. It did work but I felt my precision was off.

After we ran out of fixed rope we started to pitch it out and do a little simal-climbing, where both climbers move at the same time.  As the route wondered the quality of the climbing deteriorated. Once we arrived at the chimney pitches the climbing improved again, and it was really exciting and airy climbing. Luckily, I was leading so I didn’t have to carry the larger backpack up the tight squeezes.

There were some interesting pitches as we approached Big Sandy Ledge (which was not as big as expected). Followed by the more demanding Zig-Zag pitches. Mark took off from the ledge placing tiny pieces, and clipping the amazing amounts of fixed gear on route. I followed with amazement knowing this route has been freed. It was now my turn to lead out on the “Thank God Ledge!”

I started out thinking, “I can do this, this is not too bad.” Then the 10 inch ledge narrowed to 8, then 6 inches about the same time the wall pushed out to vertical, and then a little past vertical. I paused, turned around and told Mark I was tired of being scared, but I also knew it would not be any easier to follow. With some angry aggressive words I crawled across the tiny ledge to where it finally got wider, and therefore more secure.

Mark finished the last couple pitches to land us on the top right as the sun set. We did it, we made it up the Regular route on Half Dome in 14 hours! What a summit, and what a great way to finish 2011. We found our way down the in the dark back to the base where our sleeping bags were waiting for us. I had expected better quality of climbing, but I was overall extremely impressed with the rock, the climb, and the entire experience of climbing such an iconic piece of rock.   

The Nose - Heavy & Slow

Oct 7th was our fifth anniversary. What better way to celebrate it than climbing the Nose on El Cap? 

We had been prepping for this climb for the last few days. Buying 12 $0.79 two-liter bottles of soda for water containers, packing the haul bags, and practicing jugging where all part of the prep. After a casual breakfast we walked to the base of the route, only to see 11 other people on the first three pitches of the climb. We sat down and just watched. Everyone was moving very slowly, so we bailed. 

Plan B, the next morning we got up at 3:30AM and were at the base of the route at 4:30. Most parties climb the first four pitches, to Sickle ledge, then haul their bags to that point from the ground. Then the next day jug those lines and continue. Not wanting to get caught up in the mess of the lower pitches we decided to haul our bags from the first pitch up and just keep going. Those lower pitches were tough hauling. It is lower angle and our "pig" weighted about 120lbs, punishing work. 

After a summer of light and fast climbing we were in for a healthy dose of slow and heavy climbing, or should I say, manual labor. Hauling is just tough work.

We were gunning for Dolt Tower the first day, but did not make it. Thankfully we had a borrowed portaledge with us, so we were able to set it up at a hanging belay below the Dolt Tower. In the middle of the night we were awaken by two guys flying up the route, hooting and hollering as they climbed. They were on their second lap up El Cap for the day! Moving so fast, so light. We looked at them longingly from our ledge.

The next morning the progress got a little faster, the pig got a little lighter, and we made it to the top of the boot flake. I thought this was the best campsite I'd ever camped at. The moon was full, we could see everything in the Valley, it was amazing. 

Day three started out with the King Swing. It was my turn to lead, so Janelle lowered me down about 80 feet to the base of the pendulum. I was nervous. Two other parties were watching, along with everyone in the meadows 1500 feet below. I ran to the left, back to the right, and then sprinted back left, pushing as hard as I could. Slapping for a shallow dish of granite I halted my progress. Had I really made it on my first go? Nope. I was too high. So I swung back, lowered down, and tried again. After several airy swings I stuck it, Success! And I caught it all with my GoPro headcam.

At 1:00PM we got hit by the first sprinkle of rain. Rain was not in the weather forecast. It was forecasted to be clear and sunny for 7 days straight. We trusted that forecast, and therefore did not bring our rain gear, or the fly for the portaledge! Oops. I led another pitch in the spitting rain, and then Janelle took over for the Great Roof pitch. I was pretty damp when she got to the anchor and fixed the rope. I jugged up to Janelle, and we both hung out under the roof, twenty feet to the left of the bolted anchor, hanging in our harnesses and aid ladders. 

We passed the time looking at the poor guys below us getting soaked. The rain should pass and we would keep climbing, I mean this is sunny California right? Well it didn't. So we decided to built an anchor in the micro crack above us and sleep under the roof, the only place on El Cap not getting soaked. Two hours later we had a 9-piece anchor made out of fixed nuts and C3 cams. We were dry, and I had a new favorite campsite of all time. I'm 99% sure that no one else has ever done that, an El Cap first!

Day four and five went by without event. We topped out at noon on the fifth day. We had done it. It was a great feeling. Even better than that feeling is the feeling we had eating pizza post-shower, later that day! That makes 35 classics complete. 

[Please help us reach out fundraising goal, due to end on January 1, 2012 at 11:59PM. Donating will get you some very cool rewards directly from us. And we will be so thankful to be able to keep this journey alive in 2012 with 9 more Classics on the calendar: http://kck.st/u677T4 ]