Post-Work Bouldering

I headed out for a little after work climbing this past Tuesday with Josh and Melissa. We met up at Santee, the local bouldering spot, and got on some great climbs. It's just so nice to get on the rock for a few hours after a long day at work. Makes my soul feel refreshed.

One of the problems we did was this fun slabby arete. It was Melissa's project for the day and after a few frustrating tries she hopped back on it and nailed it. It was great to watch her send it. Here she is in the middle of the business.



Josh topping out on it.



My turn.



We saw this crazy huge bug (like 3 inches long!) dragging this desert tarantula around. It was awesome!



My long standing nemesis at Santee is a problem called the 20 Point Boulder Problem. I was stoked to give it a go, but when we got over there, there was 6 or 7 people working on it. So we headed for this problem Josh had been telling me about called the No Hands Traverse. It's this great little ledge with a blank slab above it. As the name implies, it's a feet only climb with nothing to grab onto with your hands. It was super delicate and technical. I tried it probably a dozen tries and then, on the last try of the night, just before it got too dark to climb anymore, I sent it! Super happy to have nabbed this gem! Definitely a new favorite at Santee. Leave the muscles at home for this one. It's all about good footwork.

Woodson

Josh and I headed out to Mt. Woodson this last Saturday. I hadn't done much crack climbing of late and was itching to get back onto some splitters. The initial plan was to meet at 6am and then drive out to the rocks. However, a brief look at the forecast showed that it wasn't supposed to be as hot as it normally is and we decided to meet at 7am instead. The hour sleep in was nice for sure, but it was still pretty hot out there. Oh well, at least the climbing was fantastic. We warmed up on a really fun 5.9 finger crack. It felt super good to sink the digits into the rock again, as I hadn't really been crack climbing since May. Here's a view of the warmup.



Since Josh lead the warmup it was my turn to hop on the sharp end. Next up we headed to a gorgeous dihedral called Rockwork Orange. It's a steep, slightly overhanging hand to wide hand crack that goes at somewhere around 5.10b. The last time I had lead trad was in May, so hopping on a stiff 10 right off the bat gave me my moneys worth and I had to take one time on it. Josh cruised it super smoothly, and then I ran a second lap on it, this time on top rope and got it clean. I'll be back to nail the clean lead on this guy again. Stellar!



Next up was a beautiful, right leaning, technical 10a finger crack, called Alpine Crack. Here's me after leading it.



We threw a top rope on this gorgeous 12a finger crack. It's got pretty good fingers for the first half, but bad feet the whole way and then the crack tappers out. Neither one of us finished it, but this one was good. Made the blood run! Aaaargh!



One of the climbs we did was called Bat Flake, a stout 11b that goes from fingers to hands to fists and then to offwidth. Here's Josh demonstrating the proper technique to use on the offwidth section.

Holcomb Valley

Satisfied after enjoying a taste of winter in July, Margie and I continued our journey south along the eastern side of the Oregon volcanoes and crossed the border into a hazy and fire ravaged California. I spent the night in Redding, where forest fires burned all around the city. Saturday morning, July 26th, I was on the road early and heading for Big Bear Lake, to meet my buddies Josh and Melissa for a day of sport climbing. After ten hours of driving I made it to the lake and met up with the dudesters for a bite of Mexican and then to the campground. We clipped bolts all day long the next day. It was fantastic to be back on the rock and to hang out with my old buddies.

Here I am warming up on a fun 5.8.





Josh getting ready for the roof on a tricky 10a.



The happily married couple: Mel and Josh.



Me leading a really fun, technical 10a.



Melissa on lead.



Josh stylin' on a crazy good 10c.

Mount Hood

After getting the workin' on Mount Stuart, I recuperated in Seattle for a few days then made my way down to lovely Mount Hood in Oregon. Mount Hood has the only year round ski resort in North America, so I new I had to go and get some July turns in since I was going to be driving right by it. I camped at a nice little campground at the base of the mountain and was up and heading towards the ski resort by 6:45am on Friday, July 25th. After paying my $50 for a lift ticket, I hopped on the lift and made my way up onto the Palmer Glacier, where the resort operates in the summer.



Because it's the only year round ski resort, Hood is the hot spot for all the ski racing teams around the country. I have to admit, I felt a little odd seeing all these ski racers show up in their spandex, spider web suits and head up the hill. Somehow my backcountry touring apparel and fat powder skis didn't quite seem to mix in with them. You don't run into too many ski racers in the backcountry. Anyway, I was stoked to be out in the mountains and on the snow again, especially because I was able to try out my new boots which I had bought in May and had not been able to ski yet. Here's me heading up the chair with my new boots on.



The snow in the morning was pretty hard and icy, as expected for this time of year, but I new it would get slushy later in the day. Because I hadn't had time to adjust my new boots to my skinnier skis, I was on my fatties for today. Certainly takes a little more work to get them over on edge, but it let me know how much more power these new boots had, and after the first day on them, I am very happy. These bright green babies are going to be a blast next season.

As I said before, Mt. Hood is literally covered in ski racers. This makes it unclear as to where the runs are as all of these teams have their little race flags and mini courses set up everywhere. Well, after skiing through a few of these courses, one of the coaches stopped me and said, "Hey you can't ski here. There is a public lane over there. These lanes are for racers only. We pay for these lanes."

My reply was, "Seriously? I just paid $50 for one run?" Truthfully, I'm not that impressed. Yeah, it's July, but $50 for one run? That's lame. If I would have known that I probably would've hiked up to the snow. Oh well, regardless, I had a great time running laps on the mellow, blue public lane.

A view of the upper Palmer Glacier and the standard route to climb and ski Mt. Hood.



Looking over the ski area with big Mt. Jefferson in the distance.



Back at the car. Mission accomplished.

Stuart Videos

Here's a few videos tracking the progress of our long day on Stuart. Enjoy.

Bring on the Suffering

After a couple of lovely days in Nelson, I loaded up my car with as much as I could and crossed the border back into the US of A. The first thing I noticed after crossing the border was the much cheaper gas prices in the states. $4.30 a gallon seems like a bargain when you've been paying $5.65/gallon. The second thing I noticed was just how many people with have in this country - A LOT. It's a little crazy really. I guess its mild compared to Europe though.

Anywho, I drove on down to Leavenworth and met my friend Jen and her boyfriend, Ryan, for some dinner and then we drove to Seattle together. The initial plan was for the three of us to climb Mt. Stuart, but then Ryan had to back out because of work. So, Jen and I headed up to the trail head on Monday night, and camped there to get an early start.

A view of mighty Mt. Rainier on the drive to the trail head from Seattle.



Stuart is a big mountain. It is the second highest non-volcanic peak in Washington. It is a behemoth of a peak, comprised of black and gray granite dramatically cut into soaring rock pinnacles and gorged by long deep gullies. Our plan was to climb the classic West Ridge. A moderate alpine climb that goes at 5.6. However, it's a 7 mile approach to the base followed by 2400 feet of climbing. The plan was to do it in two days. Get as far as we could on the first day, probably bivy somewhere up high on the rock and then get down and back to the car the next day. The plan didn't quite meet reality.

The wind howled all night and I slept poorly. It was somewhat of a relief when the alarm went off at 4am. Packs loaded up, we were hiking by 5am. The first three miles went smoothly enough. Neither one of us were in particularly great shape, but our legs soon found their rhythm as we made our way towards Ingalls Pass and quickly dispatched the first 2000 feet of elevation gain.

The sky at 5am.



Gaining elevation early in the morning.



The view from Ingalls Pass smacks you like a bucket of glacial water. Rocky Ingalls Peak rises to the northwest, but you barely register its existence because the king of the Central Cascades stares down at you like a gigantic haunted castle. I won't lie. I got a little scared when I first saw Mt. Stuart with my own eyes. Its size and color were overwhelming. It is certainly one of the most impressive peaks I've gazed upon.

The beast.



In order to get to the other side of the valley you have to traverse through an alpine cirque, weaving your way underneath the rocky buttresses of Ingalls Peak and crossing the old glacial polished slabs above Ingalls lake. The wind was really letting us know that it was alive that morning. It was blowing clouds rapidly across Stuart Pass, where we were headed, and distorting our view of Stuart.

An ominous looking Stuart from Ingalls Lake.



Jen crossing the glacial polished slabs above Ingalls Lake.



Jen heading towards Stuart Pass with the big guy beyond.



A funny deer that followed us for a little while.




After 5 hours on the approach, we made it to the base of Stuart at 10am. We began scrambling up the long first gully leading up towards the ridge. We would later discover that this was not the right gully to begin at. Once that gully ended we did some easy 5th class traversing into the next gully, progressively working our way higher and higher up the peak. Here's Jen in the first gully on Stuart.



Higher up on the behemoth.



Fantastic views of Mt. Rainier from up high.



El Senor Joshua with Ingalls Peak and Ingalls Lake below.



The West Ridge of Mt. Stuart is certainly a classic route, but it is not to be underestimated. Route finding is a serious undertaking on this giant. While the route, if followed exactly, is moderate, it is very easy to get of course and find yourself in 5.10 (or harder) terrain in no time. Many parties have experienced the frustration of route finding here, and, ta da, we weren't spared the experience either! Things didn't seem to match up exactly with the route description we had. We were looking for a specific tower, Long John's Tower, but we couldn't tell which one it might be with the dozens of other rock towers on the route. After some time spent frustratingly trying to find a way through, we decided to pull the plug and head down. This is where the epic began.



The normal descent route off of Stuart is on the other side of the mountain, after summiting. Not wanting to have to rappel and leave gear for any of the sections we had just climbed, we took a chance and tried to descend down an unknown gully near where we were. The first gully was a pile of poo. Nasty skree and loose blocks of rock brought us down a bit where we then traversed into another equally crappy gully. This one involved some snow downclimbing, water polished slabs and some waterfalls mixed in with the loose rock. Wow, this is getting fun. Oh wait, this gully cliffs out. Guess we'll have to traverse into another one. Basically the next few hours sucked. But in a hurt so good kind of way.

See, life in the boreal had really made me craving some adventure. And a bit of mountain suffering was just what I needed. So while my body was pretty tired from having been on the go for over 12 hours straight, my soul was on fire. This is the kind of self-purification you only get in the mountains. It's very hard to explain unless you've experienced it. At the time you think, "This sucks, why am I doing this?" But, once you get back to the car you start to think, "That wasn't so bad. I mean yeah it hurt, but it wasn't THAT bad. Man, I wonder what I'm going to climb next weekend?" Call it obsessed, call it crazy, call it what you will. This is what happens.

It took us over four hours to get off Stuart and back to Stuart Pass. This is looking back at the beast from the Pass.



The hurt was definitely on at this point and we just kept pushing our bodies to continue back the way they had come. We made it back to Ingalls Pass around sunset and caught this view of Stuart on our way there.



The next three miles down to the car were probably the longest in my entire life. The hurt was on in full. We stumbled back to the car at 10:45pm. We had been awake since 4am and had been on the move for almost 18 hours. Our bodies were well spent. As I sat down in the front seat to remove my boots I noticed something new about my body. My feet, after all that time on the go, literally looked like mashed potatoes. It was simultaneously fascinating and disturbing. Still, by the time I crawled into bed that night, I was thinking about another attempt on Mt. Stuart.

Adios Alberta

It's been quite a bit since I've last blogged, but a bit has been going on in the last 10 days or so. I've since left Canada and am now in California for a month or two. However, I stopped and had a few adventures along the way down south and I'll be putting up a couple of blog posts to highlight some of those stops. So we begin from the start...

On July 16th I loaded up my car and planned to make it to Edmonton, a three hour drive from the tower, where I would be staying with France's sister. However, the weather, namely the rain, had other plans and I wasn't able to get out of the dirt road, which was a rather muddy and pool ridden road at that point. So, I gave it another go 24 hours later and my little Marjorie made it through the somewhat diminished mud puddles and we both breathed a sigh of relief when the tires finally hit asphalt again. The simple joys in life. Saying adios to northern Alberta.



After an enjoyable evening of eating a delicious elk roast in Edmonton, I was off to Nelson to pick up some of my stuff from storage and see some buddies. I drove through the most hellacious hail storm I've ever witnessed while driving just outside of Calgary. The road was covered in 2 inches of hail. Not fun driving. However, the clouds soon parted to reveal the unique and breathtaking majesty of the Canadian Rockies. My soul breathed deeply in the topography. The bastions of rock and ice welcomed me back from the flat land of the boreal.

The subtlety of the mountains increased as I drove west. Unlike the Canadian Rockies, the Selkirks, which surround Nelson, are a bit more secret. Granite massifs abound, but they are secretly guarded by thick forests and the long, deep glacial lakes that make this area so beautiful. The high peaks poke their heads out just enough to draw you in, but the secrets of these mountains require honest effort from the beholder. For me, these mountains feel like home.

In Nelson, I stayed with my good friends Jean-Francois and Suzie, from Quebec. They are, without a doubt, two of the greatest, happiest people that I have ever met. I also met up with my buddies Tim and Katie for some rock climbing. We had a blast sport climbing next to Slocan Lake.

Here I am getting back on the rock for the first time in over two months.





Beautiful Slocan Lake.



Katie getting ready for her first climb on real rock.



Timmy sending his nemesis.



Me approaching the crux.



Me, Katie, and Timmy.



I had a fantastic couple of days in Nelson and it made me sad to know that I was leaving it for some time. Nelson, like the Selkirk Mountains, certainly feels like home to me.