June 18-19, 2011.

Cracks and more cracks

After a really long drive, setting up camp and eating a big breakfast, I met up with Tom to do some granite cragging. We futzed around a bit finding the Planet of the Eights climbing area and then surveyed our three options. First we took turns leading Surveillance of Assailants (5.8), mixed trad climb. The top was pretty slabby with teeny ledges, which mad the first climb less of a warm up and more of a heart-racer.

Next we took turns leading Small Change (5.8) This began easily, with ledges and angled jams, ultimately leading to a narrow, angled ledge that I used for my feet and smooth, rounded slab that my palms were gently resting on for balance. I had to step my left foot across, between my right foot and the wall, when I lost my balance and took a pendulum fall onto a #1 Camalot in a pocket. I screamed “falling!” and remember looking back at that cam, feeling good that it would hold my fall. It did, and it was gentle enough that a minor scrape on my wrist is all that happened. I was shaken up and Tom recommended that I cheat left like he did. That was the ticket!

We kept the rope through the anchor and toproped Make Mine a Bold One (5.8+), a mixed climb. I thought the bottom was the crux; the climbing eased for most of the rest of the climb, with the exception of some friction moves at the top.

We walked down the trail a bit and I boldly jumped on Poison Ivy Crack (5.9). The bottom is a longish friction slab with no opportunity for pro until you reach the base of the crack. Mind over matter on this one…

The crack itself was flaring, making trusting my gear difficulty. But I did a lot of resting on cams, so I learned to trust them! A lot of the feet were friction smears, with the occasional small ledge on the right. The crack opened up to hand size at the top beneath the roof, which gave me a chance to catch my breath. I rested one last time at the roof, searched around for holds a but, and finally figured out the last sequence to the anchors. I t wasn’t pretty, but I finished it.

We moved on…back to the car for a short ride to another approach trail to Surf City. People were actually climbing at this area. We saw a rattlesnake on the approach. It was just a little guy. Then Tom led Paydirt (5.6), a crappy little crack/slab with an easy walk off I was about halfway up the crack when I reached my hand into the crack and heard something squeaking at me. I yanked my hand out and looked inside. It was a BAT! I took about a hundred pictures of it and stared into its angry bat face. It was wedged into the crack, its hands just beneath its chin. The back of its head was pressed against the other side of the crack. I could see its wings folded up, and it was baring its bright white teeth. I don’t remember much about the route, since the bat was just about the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.

We packed up and headed back to camp. For one last climb we took a short walk up to XY crag. There were three climbable “cracks” there. The two to the left were okay, although I really sewed up the one to the far left. The cracks were wide and flaring. I didn’t have tape on my hands, which made the jams painful. I complained about the painful foot jams too. Clearly I need more practice with this style of climbing. I hope tomorrow I can climb past some of my fears.

A plan, and a backup plan

Today turned out to be an adventure of a different sort. We left early with the intention of getting the most out of our half-day before we had to head back. We set out to find Warrior Wall, which turned out to be a long, steep and involved scramble up to the based of a cold, wet and mossy rock face. We decided we didn’t want to climb it and very carefully retraced our steps to some other crags that Tom was familiar with. We checked out Dirty Dome, but that was mostly sport. Tom wanted to climb trad. So we walked a little further to Keen Acres.

Here, I racked up and led Kilt Twister (5.8) on the left edge of the slab. It had some bolts and some crappy gear in the flaring cracks I’ve started to come to expect. I grabbed a draw at one point to allow me to scooch my feet over on tiny ledges and check out my next sequence. It was tough for me, but good. The start and finish were fun.

Then, Tom and I shared leads on Snakes! (5.9). He led most of it, stopping to belay me from a tree growing out of the crack. From there I stepped left into the slanting off-width and thrahsed through a few big moves to get to a sweet hand and fist crack that led to the upper anchors. It was a really fun climb. Even though Tom could have led through to the top I’m glad he gave me a shot at a lead. There’s something just way cooler about multi-pitch climbing.

June 5, 2011.

6 miles | 2500′ ele. gain | 6.5 hours
Snow Lake TH > summit and back
Photo album
Rick and I took advantage of early sunlight to get a semi-alpine start on this climb, not because it’s particularly long and grueling, but because we’d hope to avoid large groups of newbies heading up. Unicorn Peak, the highest of the Tattoosh Range located near Mt. Rainier, is a fairly straightforward snow slog with a short rock climb at the top. A quick rappel and some glissading finish off the descent on this high bang-for-your-buck climb.

Not knowing what to expect on my first visit here, I prepared for everything and carried harness, helmet, rock shoes, rock protection, 60m rope (the only rope I own), crampons, axe, hiking poles, the whole nine yards. That, combined with slushy wet snow, made for a tortoise-like walk through the forested approach. This year’s snow levels are high compared to last, and the warm June temperatures didn’t allow the surface to harden up for easy travel. Rick and I followed a bootrack as it snaked through the trees and crossed a river twice. There were lots of ups and downs that led us to a wide U-shaped valley containing the elusive Snow Lake. Steep slopes on either side of the valley had recently shed snow and debris onto the snowfield we walked across, making travel a little tricky. A few times we punched through a weak layer of snow devilishly covering up a loose conglomerate of evergreen branches below. As we picked our way through the debris we eyed the thick layer of gray clouds between us and the sun, wondering if we’d get the 80 degree weather predicted.

At the far end of the valley we climbed up a moderately steep snow gully also filled with avalanche debris. Piles of rocks and snow fanned out from the rock walls above us. We moved methodically up the snow, as Rick kicked steps and I hauled up the rope and gear behind him. Beyond the gully there was more moderate snow climbing, which felt a lot harder than it was due to the soft snow conditions. We stepped gingerly across a tree top bergschrund and made the last left-hand turn onto the summit ridge.

We followed footsteps all the way to the false summit, scrambled over the small rockpile, and tossed our packs onto a dry rock at the base of the summit pinnacle. The small, docile pile of rock allegedly has 4 variations of low fifth-class climbing to choose from. I looked at a photo with some route descriptions and tried to pick out the 5.6 “Classic” route as our method of ascent. A straightforward-looking system of ledges and slab was going to do the trick for us. I never found the piton mentioned in the decription so I’m sure we were off route, but it was fun anyways. All I needed were two slings and a #2 Camalot to protect the pitch. I belayed Rick up from atop the rock pitch and we both explored the small summit area from there. The wind completely died down, and the clouds were sparse. We enjoyed views of all the major peaks in the area, including Rainier (of course), Adams, St. Helens, and Hood.

A short rappel off a gnarled old tree brought us back down to the snow, where we re-packed our gear and put on some rainpants for glissading. On our way back down to the gullies, we passed a group of Mountaineers on our way up–the first folks we’d seen today. We continued along, moving rather quickly now compared to the earlier slog, and eyed yet another large group approaching the upper gully. Being fellow Mazamas, we exchanged words and then set off for a bit more solitude. We’d had just enough of this walking business and decided to glissade down the last steep gully to the valley of debris. I’d forgotten to put gloves on, so my hands became numb as I steered the butt-sliding by driving my ice axe deep into the slush.

By now the sun had become absolutely ferocious, causing me to stop, adjust layers, pack up my axe, and have a snack. Rick trudged on ahead while I took my time basking in the sunshine. We ambled out at a comfortable pace, following our tracks back to the car. Although it was a really straightforward alpine climb, it felt great to use my combination of skills out in the field, and to spend another day in the mountains with a great friend and climbing partner. I’m looking forward to an exciting and eventful summer.

May 7-8, 2011.

Some general musings about the situation at Vantage:

• The camping situation is a free-for-all and the road is really rocky. Also, the port-a-potty was full. No pooping all weekend.
• The sport routes appear to be well-bolted, if not overly so.
• There are a large number of fun-looking sport (and trad) routes in the 5.9-5.11 range.
• There are limited rap stations, which can get very busy.
• Gully #1 involves a tight squeeze, so pack lightly or go over to gully #2 to descend to Sunshine Wall.
• The people we met who’d been there before were very friendly and helpful, a nice vibe overall.

I felt sick since Monday and barely got through the night without sucking on throat lozenges constantly. I was less than stoked to get climbing today.

Since this was an AR student weekend, I was partnered up with someone who I’d mentor for the day. He was in way over his head. He wasn’t comfortable leading 5.6 and he was painfully slow. If it was a real situation with weather rolling in or anything out of the ordinary happened we’d both be in a deadly situation. I lost my patience.

First I followed him up what we thought was Strokin’ the Chicken (5.6) but what ended up being Shady Chimney (5.7). I’m glad I didn’t look at the time because I would have hated to know how many hours of my life I wasted here. I ended up sending him a #4 cam so he could protect the top and finish it. God I hate chimneys.

Next up we got on Chapstick (5.6). This was much better suited to my partner but it still took him forever to place gear. Plus, the extra cluster of dealing with twin ropes (his idea). It was really windy up top so I mangled the throw and opted to rappel first so I could uncluster the ropes. At least that gave me a project to do.

After that learnin’ was done I hopped on a TR’d 5.9, although I hardly felt like I was on route. There was very little crack climbing involved. No matter, at least I got a little climbing in today.

The next day I partnered up with another assistant and three students to find some trad climbing. We wandered around for a bit looking for some routes on Fugs Wall, but I was NOT excited about this. With descriptions mentioning “gear to 10 inches” and many routes with no stars I thought this was a complete waste of time. When we got there, the others agreed and we headed all the way back to Sunshine Wall.

My first lead of the day was a sport route: Ride ‘Em Cowboy (5.9), rated 4 stars. I led it clean although there were some balancey moves that made me think. It was a really fun route. Next I hopped on a TR called Pony Keg (5.9). This was a super fun jug haul with some hand and fist moves at the top.

I encouraged the other assistant to put up some hard sport routes, which he did: Snooze Ya Lose (5.11a) and Easy Off (5.10c). These were both fun and challenging but the highlight by far was Easy Off. I smiled the whole way up that thing and could hardly stop yelling down at my belayer about how awesome it was. Lots of high stepping and ledges and nearly a half rope length long. This is exactly how I needed to end my weekend!

May 30, 2010.

Dirty Sanchez (5.8 III-PG), Goose Egg Mountain, Tieton River Rocks

It was the second day of climbing at Tieton, one of my favorite areas due to its wide variety of moderate trad climbing intermixed with harder stuff and bolted routes. I was climbing with a new partner who was relatively new to the climbing scene. This was a chance for me to really work on my leading skills, which I was too happy to do.

She was up for taking on a multi-pitch climb on the chossy, broken up face of Goose Egg Mountain, so I couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. I had read about Dirty Sanchez, which was within my lead ability but I knew would challenge me because it was: multi-pitch, loose, run-out, and required some routefinding. These were all skills that I often left to a more experienced (or foolhardy) leader and took on the role of follower. Now, it was up to me. Sweet.

We easily found the approach trail to the the base of the cliff and looked around for the start of the climb. It took some time, scrambling around on loose piles of rock, before we located the trees at the start of the climb at at the top of pitch 1. The book mentioned looking for the obvious rib; it turned out to be the second obvious rib which led us to our belay station.

We geared up and I led up the 5.3 face/moss slab towards a big tree. One lonely bolt lay just a few feet below the tree. I clipped it with a long sling and proceeded up to make an anchor. The tree atop pitch 1 is enormous; my cordelette was too short to make it all the way around. From here I belayed my partner up and now it felt like we were officially up and running.

The second pitch was a bolted 5.8. The bolts are spaced quite nicely at the bottom and they become run out near the top. The climb followed little ledges in a corner, where my rack could get in the way (oops, forgot to switch sides). Near the shrubbery towards the top of the climb I traversed left across the face before coming back right again to the bolt line, while my partner managed to climb straight up. The anchor consisted of two bolts, slings, and a steel biner, all of which looked to be in good shape.

The third pitch was a weird 5.7 trad lead. I couldn’t find many good gear placements because most of the cracks were tiny, dirty and shallow. Others were simply too huge. The rock quality here, as with most of the rest of the climb, was questionable; most of the “cracks” were gaps between detached blocks.

Pitch four wasn’t really memorable, although I do recall the book mentioned the anchors would be hard to find (they weren’t). I’m pretty sure I put in a ton of pro on this pitch, mostly because the rock quality was relatively exceptional.

The fifth pitch was S C A R Y. It felt harder than 5.7 to me and it was difficult to protect. The so-called “finger crack” took awhile to get to and there were only two or three good jams anyways. Here, as in the other pitches, I had to do a lot of smearing with my feet, and the lichen just made those moves feel a little spicier than they should have been. At the notch above, I had to build my own anchor, which was crap. I found myself sitting on, basically, a pile of blocks. I slung a sketchy pseudo-horn and backed myself up on a 0.5 cam behind me near a tiny shrub. So, I did the best I could, and I suppose that is a lesson to learn when climbing alpine style stuff.

The next pitch was a short, sporty 5.8. There were only 4 bolts before the anchor, no big deal. I remember the first bolt being nice and close but the other were in precarious clipping spots. I spent a good amount of time searching for decent handholds and smears while meticulously testing everything, as I had been doing all day. Right after clipping the third or fourth bolt I pulled off a serving plate-sized chunk of rock that I sent hurtling down towards my belayer. Sorry. This sent my brain spinning for a few minutes, but I got going again as soon as I could and gratefully attached myself to the anchor.

The final section is only 5.5 but this is where the PG rating comes in. I felt like good protection was hard to come by throughout the climb, so I dreaded it getting worse. The knife edge traverse was admittedly pretty cool. It felt safe to stand up there but there was a huge, sheer drop to one side, the wind was blowing, and it felt dramatic. I slung a projecting chunk of rock about halfway across for some peace of mind and quickly made my way to the slabby rubble pile ahead. The rock was covered in living things. There was a ton of exposure, jagged edges, and absoltutely no options for protection. I know that I eventually placed a nut or a cam but my recall of this section is a bit blurry. It felt much harder than 5.5 and I was talking to myself to keep my mind from wandering. I carefully planned my sequence while testing everything twice to make sure it wouldn’t blow out under body weight. I was terrified of pulling off a hold and falling 20 feet across a mangled rockpile onto a tenuous placement. Once I got to the top I found a single bolt, which I equalized with a #2 Camalot and a brown tricam (hee hee). HOORAY!!

When my partner arrived, we broke down the anchor and traversed across the top of the mountain, which is a shifting pile of big, slaty-looking blocks. The downclimb follows a rocky gully and there is one rappel halfway (or so) down to make the steepest section more manageable.

For us, the whole ordeal took 8:15 car to car, including 5 or so hours of actual climbing. We didn’t break any speed records, for sure, but this was my first multi-pitch lead of this magnitude and I was damn proud of our success. I proved to myself that I was truly capable of leading a climb like this on my own, which was the greatest lesson I have learned in my climbing endeavors so far.

The next day, we were happy to join up with some friends at the Royal Columns and let someone else do the leading. Climbing on clean rock was something of a novelty after scrambling up loose rock, dirt, moss and lichen all day. It was a spectacular weekend.