EXPEDITIONS NORTHWEST L.L.C

Shooting Photos on the Arete d' Papillon - Chamonix

2011-08-21T01:15:00.000-07:00

As my guiding trip in the Alps came to a close two weeks ago, my friend Matt Anderson - former guiding colleague turned Switzerland based photographer, met me in Chamonix for two days of casual climbing and photographing. We were skunked on day one by bad weather, but on day two we got on the Arete d' Papillon, a classic alpine rock ridge which is easily accessible from Chamonix by taking the telepherique to the Plan de Aiguille. This is a terrific climb to knock of while visiting the area and makes a great warm up for longer routes in the area.

ALASKA RANGE-LACUNA GLACIER EXPLORATIONS

2011-07-23T17:15:00.000-07:00

Dispatch one -First Contact, Lacuna Glacier

Graham Zimmerman high on day one of the Lunar Spur~Mark Allen

We wanted to give you a call real quick and give you our one week update on our expedition 2011 on the Kahiltna Glacier. First of all when we first got here we dug in our camp at the Kahiltna landing strip and immediately set out on a six day trip to the rarely or never visited West Fork of the Lacuna Glacier. This entailed over twenty miles of glacier travel and it took us four days to recon the route out from the base of the peak which we intended to climb.

Graham Zimmerman transitions to booting while navigating one of the many ice falls of the Lacuna Glacier system. One of several reasons it would take 4 of our 7 days of supplies to recon a route through the gauntlet to our desired Advanced Base Camp. ~Mark Allen

We put ourselves below the unclimbed South face of a unnamed numbered peak on the Lacuna Glacier system and made it up 2,500 feet of a new route and were turned around due to bad snow conditions and an impending storm.

Graham Zimmerman Looks down 1000ft of newly discovered terrain on out bivi perch above the Northwest fork of the Lacuna Glacier. ~Mark Allen

So we ended up descending after one and a half days on route and ended up returning to our camp. We used the remaining time for the 20 mile of glacier travel back to base camp. It was pretty much an odyssey into a more remote area Alaska Range terrain into a zone that neither of us had ever seen with the naked eye and possibly hadn't been visited by another human being. It was a pretty wild adventure. Everything is going well, right now we're focusing on acclimatization. We're going to spend the next four days climbing the West ridge of Mt. Hunter, with the intent of climbing most of the route tomorrow, and bivying as high as we can to spend as much time as can above 10,000ft to start acclimatizing for bigger objects. Hope all is going well at home and wish you guys luck, and wish us luck on our next adventure up the West ridge of Hunter.......READ MORE @..http://lacunaexpedition.blogspot.com/

OUTDOOR RESEARCH VERTICULTURE-SEASONED IN THE ALPS

2010-09-20T16:31:00.000-07:00

by Mark Allen
posted on OUTDOOR RESEARCH VERTICULTURE
Climbing in Chamonix

Pounte Natillon in the Chanonix area as two climbers top out alpine rock classic "Amazonia" one of the standard IV 5.10 trad routes 15 minute walk from the Envers Hut.

Every time I drive into the North Cascades National Park I read a park sign that says “The North Cascades-The Alps of America.” This has always struck a spiteful chord in my dark side and I have dreamt of vandalizing this sign to read “The Cascades of America”. The Cascades are my home, and to me there is no comparison. But this year, to see what all the pother was about, I set off for two months taking advantage of new work opportunities in the French Alps.

IMG guide Sheldon Kerr mid swing on summer alpine ice route positoned on the Contamine- Mazeaud route of the North Face of Triangle du Tacul. One of the many examples of stellar alpine ice objectives just minutes from the Midi tram.

As an avid traveler, the basic nuances of wandering the western world are not novel. So trying to arrange a ride from the Geneva airport to Chamonix, France with a two-word French vocabulary was entertaining. But what had my attention most was standing in the back of the line for the tram that would take me to the summit of the Aiguille de Midi. Culture shock sunk in. Taking mental notes of my observations; small petite alpine packs, climbers in harnesses, ice axes in hand with neatly coiled rope ready for the instant access to the 3000m alpine zone. It only took a few minutes to quickly learn the European etiquette with regards to your pack, crampons, and axe in the crowded tram-line. The French tram operators had no problem suggesting the correct drill. It was as if we were all in line for an amusement ride for adults. The sharp reality: this “ride” was real and would poise you at a turnstile gate leading to the alpine 10,000ft higher than you were 30 minutes prior.

Somewhere on the East face of the Mount Blanc Tacul

I was not in the North Cascades anymore. The differences were obvious. The incredible access was coupled with a population of well-adept alpinists represented in large numbers. The line was heavy with guides awarded credentials by the International Federation of Mountain Guides Association (IFMGA) or Union International Des Associations De Guide De Montagne (UIAGM), the EU equivalent. These high-ranking guides are easily recognized by the metal pin on their lapel, the badges sewn onto their shoulder and pack, and their acutely well-organized and mint gear selection. This badge itself has significant meaning for this culture. To become a professional guide in countries that honor the tradition of IFMGA standards takes dedication. First, to achieve aspirant status that allows a guide to work under a fully-certified guide-mentor, at least four years are spent mastering ski mountaineer, rock, and alpine guiding. This is followed by another two years completing exams and work requirements before achieving full-guide status. The tram line reeked of this tradition.

IMG Guide Sheldon Kerr busting mixed moves during the Traverse de Rochford on the French-Italian Boarder

Mountain access like this began nearly one hundred years ago in the French, Italian, and Swiss Alps. The history of guiding is even older. It was here that alpinism and mountain guiding were created. By the looks of the terrain, I began to understand why. I was in line equally for the guiding tradition and culture as I was for the ride up the Midi into these mountains.

The French Alps lean over Chamonix, cutting the skyline with large granite massifs laden with icefalls and towering needles. Glaciers gouge valleys for kilometers, dividing the towers who each pronounce their independence and unique character. Massive monoliths draw your eye in. The famous Grand Dru belonging to the Aiguille Verte, the Grepon, the Midi, the three summits of Mount Blanc, and all the serrated gendarme ridges that connect each feature capture your attention and unfold a potential lifetime of alpine objectives.

As I rode the cable car up from Chamonix into the alpine and over the North face of the Aiguille de Midi, the dihedrals and crack systems, including the Frendo Spur first climbed in 1941 were easy to pick out. The Frendo is a 3700ft 5.8 rock rib that leads to the upper ice faces and rock tower shouldering the Midi and is a test piece of any aspiring young alpinist. It is prominently seen from Chamonix center and summons you while you safely sip your draft beer in the square bellow.

French guide with client high on the South Face of the Aiguille de Midi on one of the classic routes overlooking miles of alpine glaciers.

The reason I came to Chamonix was to take advantage of mentorship and apprenticeship. There are hundreds of fully qualified guides who have graduated from an international certification system of the Alps IFMGA or UIAMG. These guides have spent their careers taking clients into the far reaches of these ranges. As an American IFMGA aspirant, it was this group of men and woman who I looked to for help reaching the next stage of becoming a full guide.

I didn’t focus on Alps test-piece objectives, but instead on routes with good guiding problems for me to negotiate and train on for my AMGA alpine guide’s exam this September 2010. My training goals led me to some of today’s classic alpine routes that historically, in the early 1900’s, were some Europe’s premier alpine achievements.

Mount Maudi and the Kuffner ridge. The ridge was gained via an main coulior at the base of the buttress. The route assends that prominate ridge through spines and towers topping out the dome to the right of the needle summit.

The Kuffner Ridge, also know as the Frontier Ridge, on Mount Maudi was first climbed by Mortiz von Kuffner with Alexander Burgener, Josef Furrer, and a porter in 1887 and is one of these classic routes. This ridge is a complex buttress of exposed ridge and towers holding an entire days-worth of moderate mixed climbing and snow spines.

With beta from IFMGA guides Mike Powers and Richard Mansfield, my two America ex-pat partners Matt Anderson and Dan Protz, and I set out for the climb. After a quick breakfast by headlamp in the empty cafeteria of the Italian Torino hut, we crossed 2 kilometers of glacial neve under moonlight back into France, approaching the base of Mount Maudi. The peak towered over us. Storm clouds began to build over the summit of Mount Blanc, an indicator for oncoming foul weather. The weather was moving from the back of my mind to the front as the darkness veiled the peaks true scale. I began to feel the anxiety manifested by the unknown. If we climbed high on the route it would be difficult to retreat anywhere but up. But, without much hesitation, I committed to the up.

We crossed the bergschrund and gained the sharp ridge via the 850ft access couloir running rock and ice protection along the way. Simul-climbing this classic alpine ice couloir in one long pitch set a tone of security and speed for the day.

Matt Anderson nad Dan Protz simul climbing the goat's back spines of the Kuffner Ridge with Italy to the right and France on the Left.

The terrain was already classic and kept getting better. Corniced snow ridges, moderate granite rock climbing, and easy ice all combined in a rolling gauntlet ridge crest with an electric view of the Italian side of the Mount Blanc massif. My favorite parts of the route were the exposed corniced snow ridges. I felt alive with the team perched on its crest. The French use an appropriate metaphor for this feature relating it to the furry tuft of hair that sticks up on the back of mountain goat, giving the mountain a living spirit. These ridges are difficult to protect and it is assumed among partners that you throw yourself off the opposite side in the event of a fall. This method of protection is a challenging but somewhat affective practice though not entirely fool proof. Two Italian climbers met their fate on this exact feature 24 hours after our ascent. A fatal slip caused by a collapsed cornice led to grave results. Giving plenty of respect to the spines, I knew that we were not immune to a similar fate.

AMGA ALPINE EXAM TRAINING- Chamonix Alpine climbing from Mark Allen on Vimeo.

Another classic I climbed, the Midi-Plan traverse, is a ridge run on the skyline from the Aiguille de Midi to the Aiguille de Plan and back; glaciers, knife blade snow spines, and buttresses of 5.8 hand cracks on perfect granite. This takes a full day of rope wrangling and dozens of transitions from pitch climbing to rappelling to short roping and back. Returning to the tram before the lift shuts down for the evening is the main motivator for moving efficiently. This is understandably one of the reasons people from this land are efficient alpinists. I mock-guided this objective with U.S. IFMGA guide Dylan Taylor while he played client. This is common practice among guides who are in training mode and it allows us the opportunity to critique each other on potential improvements and correct exposure to unnecessary risk.

Mark mid-transition on the Midi-Plan Traverse-Photo Dylan Taylor

Mount Blance getting served a typical afternoon storm for the 2010 alpine climbing season. Unpredicatble white orographic lenticulars consumed the upper elevetions regularly this year.

While all my climbs helped train me for my goals, most of my mentorship happened while on Mount Blanc. I was able to work several trips with UIAGM and IFMGA guides from France, Switzerland, Britain, Italy, Slovenia, and the U.S. They treated me like a little brother. Aspirants, I discovered, are somewhat of a commodity compared to the number of working full-guides. Full-guides were extremely eager to help out an underdog guide, remembering their own struggles while learning the craft. And, on this objective I felt right at home. The terrain was reminiscent of the glaciers and elevations of my home mountain, Mount Rainier. The guiding, conditions, and client profile for this peak were somewhat old-hat and made the transition into a new venue much easier. At the end of most days, I would sit with mentor guides and debrief the event on ways we could do things better. This evaluation is an extremely valuable moment for the aspirant, and is how development can occur.

The Aiguille de Envers Basins

The most memorable venue I visited during my stay was the Aiguilles de Envers up valley on the Mer de Glace glacier. Two cirques with massive granite towers resemble that of the Sierra. Grade IV and V rock spires of impeccably steep granite jet 2500ft out of the glacier. The hut is positioned below the steep, massive towers 10 min away from where you start roping up for the 18 pitch, 5.10 rock route.

Mark Allen casts of into a world of pristean granite with splitter cracks shooting to the summit on the Aiguille de Roc located near the Envers Hut-Photo Jay Allen

Nothing during my stay topped climbing splitter granite cracks a thousand feet off the deck with a valley glacier sweeping bellow and the Grandes Jorasses dominating the horizon. Several of the climbs lead to classic hypodermic granite needle summits provoking disbelief. This is a place I will certainly travel back to in the future.
Overall, my time in the Alps was incredibly educational. I was exposed to many historical aspects of Alpinism and what it means to the local valley. Being immersed in the alpine and exploring what the French Alps have to offer, I progressed in my own guiding and took one step closer to becoming a full IFMGA guide.

The fifth 60m rappel off of the Aiguille De Roc. Seven more to go. Jay Allen using a sigle strand descent method will a 5mm tag line for the pull-photo Mark Allen

One thing that I found missing during my adventures was something I experience in the Cascades; serenity. Coming home, scaling to the crest of the North Cascades, and looking over glaciated vistas of unclimbed rock was a breath of fresh air. We are spoiled to have this resource. We are lucky to be living in the heart of true wilderness. The North Cascades are untouched by European standards; no trams, no people, no villages and with a culture and tradition that is still being developed. Because I enjoy this wild place so much, I don’t want to see all the traditions of Europe become a standard here is the U.S.

Europe has figured out, though, how to professionalize guiding as an industry and into a legitimately well respected trade. Professionalizing the mountain guiding standards and simultaneously deepening the traditions of guiding with our U.S. climbing culture will create a better, safer experience for my clients, my co-workers, and myself in the beautiful places we call home. I encourage you to look into the IFMGA standard by going to the American Mountain Guides Association (AMGA) web site and educate yourself about the importance of guide standardization and how this might affect you as a consumer. Good luck and see you in the Alps!

posted on OUTDOOR RESEARCH VERTICULTURE to read similar articles

BLACK DIAMON JOURNAL-Mt. Bradley Comprehensive Report

2010-07-11T01:17:00.000-07:00

Mark Allen and Graham Zimmerman make first ascent of 4600-foot alpine big wall in Alaska-link to BD Journal

Black Diamond supports the AMGA rock guide exam with a grant and each year we are excited to see new guides pass their exams and become certified AMGA rock guides. Such is the recent case with Mark Allen (also an AMGA-certified ski guide), who passed his exams before setting off on a wild first ascent adventure with Graham Zimmerman to Mount Bradley on Alaska's Ruth Glacier. Below is Mark's report with impressive photos and superb video from the ascent that truly shows what it's like to commit to a massive alpine first ascent.

“To achieve vigorous manhood at least five qualities are necessary; muscular strength, endurance, energy, courage, and will power…There are numerous examples of vigorous men in recent history and present day in American life…By faithful adherence to the five requirements previously mentions, one develops a high degree of bodily resistance”

~ E. H. Ruddock, M. D., Vitalogy 1899

Mt. Bradley SE Face this April in the condition the SE Buttress was noticed during the late March reconnaissance. ~Photo Graham Zimmerman

Walking up after a third bivy on the wall was not the plan. We only had resources for one night on the buttress and with little padding. We anticipated a second night during the descent, but not the third—and certainly not a fourth. We agreed to not have enough fuel for breakfast brews. We shared an energy bar and a beef stick to kick-start our metabolisms. We peered out the door of the Firstlight tent having a strange aerial vista. This vantage of the North Wall of Mount Wake reminded us of our position; Twenty-five pitches up a 4600-foot buttress in undiscovered country on a tiny bivy ledge just big enough for our two-person tent.

Zimmerman on the summit morning, the third day of the climb, taking in the view from the Tower~Photo Mark Allen

We were in mid-swing of the second major crux network of the route. We had fixed the lines the night before and rappelled down to the exposed ledge after the climbing became a game of diminishing return. A near-perfect bivy blessed us part way up the 800-foot granite tower that stood like a bouncer guarding the summit. One corner of the tent that was draped over the ledge collected gear like a sinkhole. Ropes ran out of our sleeping bags, to the door, and up to the anchor. Gear hung clipped under the visor of granite that protected our bivy from what loomed above.

This morning marked the last day of steep mixed terrain before the buttress broke down and we could count on the summit. We couldn’t afford to have another night out on the wall.Graham indecipherable words came over a mouth full of Turtle Bar combined with gestures indicated his appreciation for the view. I couldn’t help but share the excitement for what we had done already. We were having the time of our lives and we were the only lives in the Alaska Range.

Seven years ago, Graham Zimmerman and I met in Washington on an alpine course through the American Alpine Institute. I was a young North Cascades guide and he was one of my youngest clients at 17. He absorbed everything I had to offer. He was, and still is, one of the most positive and motivated people I have ever shared the rope with.

Paul Roderick landed us in the Great Ruth Gorge. According to the National Park Service we were going to be all alone; have the entire range to ourselves. Storms shut down any more traffic to ensure this. This was a rare opportunity for our climbing team and provided a new element of remoteness to the range. The Alaska Range is funny that way. On a sunny day one could easily flag down one of the many passing planes. On a no-fly-day you might as well be in the Hymal. Now we were on our own. No climbers. No planes. It was just the ravens, the mountains, and us.

Mt. Wake NE Buttress after a snowstorm ~Photo Mark Allen

Great Gorge ski tours during route recon. ~Photo Mark Allen

Upon first arrival the range was freshly loaded by recent storms. This put most of the climbing on hold until safer conditions. We narrowed our alpine climbing faire down to what would not predictably kill us. Mount Bradley. Initially it was the 1000-foot ribbon of ice that sucked Graham’s binoculars. Our eyes connected what looked enticing, possible, and had a hint of full-on. Weather was good, so we went for it.

We retreated after seven pitches. Our timing was all off, a schoolboy mistake. We didn’t get high enough to gain the upper snow bench and we scratched around below. We were under a giant solar collector. The warming snow grinded on my psyche. Graham picked up on my stress. Our mortality felt like a coin toss. I slammed in two knifeblades and we bailed. Rappelling from our high point I could foresee the rope becoming stuck. We now had more time. We took sanctuary in a cave when the avalanches came. Snow poured over the cave. We resorted to alpine trickery to get the ropes back then hung out cracking jokes for an additional hour. The stressed molted away like dead skin and without remorse. The sun faded, the wall cooled, and we descended to camp.

It was exactly what we needed. A warm-up. We received a freeze thaw and mileage on ice tools. We were going to return to the wall smarter, with less weight, and with beta. We needed a different strategy. Climb through the cold of the day and through the night, bivy in the heat of the day. We'll get about nine hours of climbing, bivy in the sunshine, and then come off the next day. That was the plan. It was simple.

Approaching the “Lighting Bolt Coulior,” the entrance to the SE Buttress during the second attempt in colder temps. ~photo Mark Allen

At 6pm we simul climbed up the 500-foot Lightning Bolt Couloir. We set Graham up for the first crux, a 5.9 A1 offwidth in the cave. I watched him squirm through a hole in the ceiling just wider than his hips and haul our packs. Before night fell Graham swiftly took us through two more pitches of runout mixed cruxes and belayed off our bail pitons from the day before.

The next block of rock and mixed climbing were key to our progress. We get through this and we are onto the “fun climbing.” The approach to the uncharted territory was to climb out off the snow ledge, change into rock shoes, and send. This was a time-consuming arduous process. After the transitions I had so much shit on my harness. The ice tools, double boots, crampons, and rock rack all created a hoop dress effect. It was a blue-collar pitch. A chicken-wing and hooked tool behind a frozen block while stemming in rock shoes. I found the next belay and watched Graham’s headlamp progress up from the abyss. After some scraping about we agreed I would tension off the anchor into the void. I made it to a small stance and was able kick a perch with rock shoes in the snow. The long arch of slack back to Graham’s anchor terrified me. A fall here would be radical. I excavated some frozen dirt moss near my waist and pounded in the pick of my Cobra ice tool and clipped off my waist. It was a tenuous 30 minutes to return back to boots and crampons while tethered to the tool. A thousand feet of exposure hidden by the darkness. My world had the radius of my LED beam and I was glad. With my feet in crampons again, I began work up the mixed pitch. Deliberation was forced by lack of gear found in the compact headwall. Necessity is the mother of invention; I forcibly drilled a 19cm ice screw into a patch of frozen dirt moss, my only good piece. It was like a bolt… crazy-solid. I laugh reflecting on what brings us peace in the chaos.

Graham coming into the Prow after a spice 140m unprotected snow wallow. Steep terrain above reminds us of our low position on the route. ~Photo Mark Allen

It was several more hours of easy mixed and steep snow climbing pitches to the first bivy on The Prow. We positioned the bivy safe from any avalanches on a spine abscessing from the buttress. Graham and I had one of the most astounding views of the long Ruth Valley Glacier. We sunk into the bivy basking in the sun, letting the stress of the mountain shed away.

The Prow Bivy about 1500ft up the route after pitch 7 of new climbing. North Face of Mt. Wake in the background. This was a 6 hour mid-day bivy to wait for snowslopes to refreeze and ice conditions in the coulior to improve. ~Photo Mark Allen

After the bivy we headed out in the cooler temps of the afternoon as the slopes came into the shade and cast off into the headwall couloir looking for ice~Photo Graham Zimmerman

We packed up in cooler temps. The blue shade pushed out alpine yellow glow. That was the cue. We headed up to explore the Ice Ribbon. A thousand-feet of moderate gully ice protected by an entrance fee of M5+ and thin eggshell WI 5. Graham led off the belay without hesitation. It was a burly pitch and one of the route’s headiest points. Watching at the belay I fumbled with the video camera trying not to give a bad belay. Each gear placement was like a small triumph. Graham’s persistence was admirable and right then he was my personal hero. Off belay. We were in!

We jammed out the next five pitches like it was routine. It was the first time on the route that the climbing was straightforward and predicable. We gained the momentum we needed, swinging into fat, sticker blue ice in a chimney just wider than our shoulders. The climbing rivaled the world-class gully climbs of the Moose’s Tooth on the horizon just over my right shoulder. We were in our element. The formidable objective was far from our minds.

Photo of the Second Snow Bench, the Prow Bivy (bottom left), and the Ribbon a 1000ft of ice that on the second night took us to the second Bivy on the ridge just left of the couloirs exit. This was the prize of the route and the most memorable climbing. We then had to wait until first light to navigate the complex blocky ridge. This was our reward for climbing the six pitches of ice quickly. ~Photo Mark Allen

We topped the Ribbon and gained the buttress crest. The terrain above us was supposed to be easy and fun ridge climbing. Graham and I looked up into the darkness at a complex fortress of rock. We needed sunlight to navigate such a gauntlet. Unwilling to deal with the physiological stress, we pretended the mountain was not there and bivied until light.

We woke to the eerie shapes of lenticular clouds on the horizon. They were right on time. Large spindrift avalanches began to pour off the slopes above. We dared not leave the spine of the buttress. I was taken away from this predicament by Graham’s positive demeanor and conversation about cute Yosemite girls that slackline. We never had a conversation about committing, but this would have been the time.

Out of the fog came the ominous Tower. We planned on skirting the feature on exposed snowslopes but the triple-x death conditions omitted any further discussion of the option. We squared up to the 800 feet of granite. In most cases I would have felt in over my head. But instead Graham and I were overriding dread with laughter and fist bumps. “Yeah, get some”became the mantra to stoke the other on. Our humor was driven by the gravity of the situation. Above us were hundreds of feet of steep technical mixed climbing tattered with fresh spindrift, below were thousands of feet of frozen alpine big wall. Our spirits were the protective shell against all that would attempt to impede our progress.

Graham racking for the final pitch to the summit. Graham is preparing to leave the Tower bivy and jug up to the high point from the night before ~Photo mark Allen

Graham Zimmerman climbing the last mixed pitches of the tower~photo Mark Allen

Graham Zimmerman at the last belay (28) while transitioning to simul climbing the last spines of the buttress. ~Photo Mark Allen

Graham and I were revitalized after the exposed six-hour bivy on the Tower. Our minds told us this was the end of the climb; we couldn’t have been further from the truth. We finished the tower and the terrain broke down. We could feel the reality of the top for the first time. Its as if dreaming of food and getting the first realization of its aroma as it becomes near to ready. My fear, my fatigue, my hunger all faded away for the moment as we sauntered towards the highest point of this giant. While walking I pointed out the two ravens that circled the summit just tens of feet above. There presence felt as if they knew the significance of our arrival. This was a climax of our climb…a very special moment in our friendship, the partnership, and our lives.

We gazed at our descent. It was still going to take us 33 hours before we would finally be done. We finished the last of our food and began heading the only way we could, down.

Mark Allen and Graham Zimmerman on the summit of Mt Bradley.

On April 5th at 4pm Mark Allen and Graham Zimmerman summited Mt. Bradley via a new route on the SE buttress. This 4600-foot buttress of sustained mixed climbing required 29 pitches, 19 of which are M5 or WI 4 or harder. After sixty-six and a half hours including three on-route bivies, Vitalogy (Alaska grade V, M6+ WI5 5.9R A1) was opened. After summiting the climbers began to descend but the descent was not in condition when a second storm began to present. With the remaining time the two were forced to rappel 1500 feet down a headwall to an alpine glacier and then descend 1000 feet of active icefall to the Backside Valley Glacier to escape avalanche terrain were the two found a “safe bivy” (under an overhang of rock tucked close to the massif base) while spindrift avalanches began to run down the wall. This storm brought 15 inches of new snow, pinning the two down for a day without food and little fuel. A clearing 12 hours later allowed the climbers to start wading seven kilometers through new snow on Backside Valley Glacier, back around though 747 Pass, and then down into the Ruth Glacier to regain their camp. A third storm hit, requiring them to navigate in a whiteout, in the dark. After 99 hours they removed their packs for the last time.

Mark Allen and Graham Zimmerman make first ascent of 4600-foot alpine big wall in Alaska from Black Diamond Equipment on Vimeo.

READ MORE TRIP DETAILS AT TRIP BLOG

CLIMB ICE IN THE OURAY ICE PARK

2010-07-10T11:06:00.000-07:00

LINK TO "OURAY ICE CLIMBING" TO SEE MORE DETAILS-CLICK HERE

Climber top ropes "Nose Job" a popular pillar climb in the Ouray Ice Park.~Photo Mark Allen

TRIP DATES DEC 16th-MARCH 1st

CONTACT:

Mark Allen

Cell Phone: 360 305 2383

e-mail: climb@markallenalpine.com

Ice climbing is one of the most gratifying styles of technical climbing. To be able to swing the ice tool and crampons into frozen waterfall ice is electrifying. Climbing ice has always been a surreal experience that looks like it should be beyond the realm of possibility but is quite achievable. Climbing in Ouray is the most accessible venue for technical ice climbing in the Lower 48. The Ouray Ice Park provides a full spectrum of challenges for those first-timers exploring the sport to the seasoned annual ice climber. The winter setting of the San Juan Mountains and small town mountain culture of Ouray make this the perfect vacation spot to explore the sport of ice climbing. There are many restaurants, hotels, and other recreation options to make a fully loaded vacation in Colorado this winter.

IMG Guide Ben Kurdt leads out of the Box Canyon in the Ouray Ice Park, CO~Photo Mark Allen

Join Mark Allen and other IMG guides for a privet or scheduled program this winter. I will be available to book trips December through February this season. Contact me as soon as possible to get your spot on the calendar. Availability becomes limited so don’t wait too long! To learn more about what IMG can offer you go to the International Mountain Guides Link listed above.

LINK TO "OURAY ICE CLIMBING" TO SEE MORE DETAILS-CLICK HERE

BOOK THIS TRIP!!
Contact me directly at climb@markallenalpine.com to coordinated with my availability. Once we have resolved the dates I will help facilitate your registration through the IMG office. ~Photo S.B. Giddings

AK EXPEDITION 2010-ALPINIST ARTICLE

2010-04-22T00:27:00.000-07:00

Washington Climbers Kick Off Alaska Season

by Erik Lambert

The southeast face of Mt. Bradley (9,104'), Ruth Gorge, Alaska Range, Alaska, where Mark Allen and Graham Zimmerman established Vitalogy (Alaska Grade V: M6+ WI5 5.9 R A1, 4,600') earlier this month. The team climbed for 99 hours camp-to-camp. Read more.....

DODGING BULLETS ON MT RAINIER, WA

2009-10-26T20:32:00.000-07:00

CLOSE CALL-LIBERTY RIDGE

EPIC

Claudio Argento

The discovery

From June 21^st to 24^th I took part in a classic climbing epic; one of those stories with cold and wet bivouacs, ice caves, crevasse falls, rock slides and avalanches. There was even talk of cannibalism, but only as far as deciding who was the most appetizing one. Incredibly it all happened on Mount Rainier, spitting distance from Seattle; not in a remote mountain range named after an obscure God of the Wind. The events were overwhelming for me, and I am sure were also for my fellow climbers.

I am an armchair mountaineer; I like to read about the great climbers’ adventures and achievements; the history of the first ascents on all the celebrated peaks of the world. The romantic images of these adventures, both real and constructed in my mind, have been astonishingly beautiful; I yearned to be in these alpine places. But I haven’t; for fear and lack of self confidence, I have always blamed a rarity of opportunities. Even though I have been climbing for around 25 years, I can’ call myself a rock climber. When I think of it, I have never climbed anything really remarkable. So one day something happen, something brought me out of my climbing apathy and self‑pity. It was probably a combination of mid-life crisis and financial awareness. I had a revelation: I could climb with a guide! If I didn’t have the experience and confidence to do a real alpine climb; I could buy it.

So on a boring day in front of my computer, during what is cynically called “working hours”; I started browsing the guiding websites. It was quickly evident that my only pre‑packaged and immediate option would be Mt. Rainier. And the only guided route on Rainier that was not just a walk-up, but advertised as a real alpine climb, was Liberty Ridge.

Fortunately for me all the trips were completely booked, so I abandoned the idea and went back to my life. Unfortunately for me, I decided to check again; and on May 29^th found an opening with International Mountain Guides (IMG). I called George Dunn at IMG, had a brief discussion and gave them my credit card number. I decided to put my money where my mouth (or stupid idea) was. I decided to burn the bridge, without the cash payment I would have bailed out; but being down two grand, there was no refund, so no turning back.

The problem was that the trip was scheduled for June 20^th; which gave me just 3 weeks to get in shape. So I trained hard, on a treadmill. I did exactly 9 trips to the gym where I would put on a 60lbs backpack and walk for 1 hour on the steepest possible incline. And given how tired I was getting, I thought that I was making progress; and there was little else I could do. Of course I could just kiss the two grand bye-bye.

The days passed, and I let them pass. This was the kind of situation were procrastination actually makes you do things. I never took the initiative to get out of my predicament; I just let it get closer and closer. The anxiety and fear grew every day; and in disbelief I boarded the plane. I was going with the flow, despite my absolute conviction that I was way over my head.

On my way to Seattle, the view from the plane was a landscape blanketed by clouds; with only one huge mountain sticking out.

In my mind I heard Police Chief Brody as he saw Jaws gliding by : “You’re gonna need a bigger boat.”

The route

The IMG website describes Liberty Ridge as “a very serious, technically difficult and physically demanding ascent that is reserved for strong climbers with prior climbing experience.” Not me. Mike Gauthier describes Liberty Ridge as “an exposed ridge that challenges climbers with steep ice climbing…it is long and committing”. Not for me. It is the word “committing” that kept me awake at night: in sport climbing, if you can’t do it, you just lower off. I am not used to be stuck somewhere I cannot come off as I please. In mountaineering “committing” means a bad marriage with a father in law that owns sawed-off shotguns.

The approach to Liberty Ridge starts at the White River Campground, around 4400ft of elevation. Mt. Rainier is 14,411ft, it is a 10,000ft climb! To keep things in perspective, Everest is a 12,000ft climb. Liberty Ridge is a very long climb.

The ridge itself barely deserves the title of a ridge. It is small wrinkle on the north face of the mountain. It looks atrophied when viewed in a map next to its neighbors Curtis Ridge to the east and Ptarmigan Ridge to the west. But it is just enough; it divides the North face into the Liberty Wall and the Willis Wall. At the very top, there is Liberty Cap; a glacier that spills over the wall. And as we are going to see later, the walls are death traps, waiting for climbers with extreme denial problems or short life expectancies. The ridge stands like a prow sending falling debris and serac ice to one side or the other; like a goalkeeper that is not capable of stopping the shots, just of deflecting them. What the ridge is not is free from rock falls within itself. The ridge is in fact not much more than a huge pile of loose rock held in place by frozen mud, ice and snow.

Mountaineers talk of “weakness” of a mountain. If there is such a thing, than Liberty Ridge opens the overhanging glaciers of Liberty Cap, the last obstacle on the climb, giving us a way up. It is only and just above the ridge that the precipitous seracs give away to a mellower slope, something stable and climbable without a death wish. If the cliffs are the walls of a citadel, than Liberty Ridge is the gate that was left open: the mountain just forgot to close it and we hope to sneak through.

The climb is divided in three days, and these match with three very distinct route sections. The first day is a hike with an attitude. We start at White River Campground. We hike up Glacier Basin, cross St. Elmo Pass (minus the fire), cross the Winthrop Glacier and set camp at the lower Curtis Ridge, at 7,200ft. According to George from IMG, it is a “9 hours long day with full packs”. Second day we cross the lower Curtis Ridge, turn north, cross the Carbon Glacier and climb the first half of ridge to Thumb Rock, our high camp at 10,760ft. Again, according to George, “an easier 6 hours long day”. Third day, Summit Day, we finish the ridge over snow and ice slopes, all around 60 degrees, to the Liberty Cap. After negotiating the ice cliffs, looking for the open gate, we gain the Cap at 14,200ft. Parties usually take 12 hours to complete this section. I wish… To come down, we go over to Emmons Glacier and descend to Camp Schurman.

The headquarters

I arrive in Seattle and meet Ann at the airport. Ann and I have never met before, only exchanged a couple of emails before the trip, sharing our excitement about the climb ahead. We carpool down to Ashford for our gear check meeting at the IMG Headquarters. There we meet Rick, the third climber and Jeff, our lead guide.

Jeff exudes experience and cool-headiness. His casual self-confidence and cool presence are apparent from the first second we talk to him, and are so strong that I immediately acknowledge to myself that I will have no problem following him up Liberty Ridge. I liked and trusted him from the very beginning.

We review and distribute the group gear. I am in shock: after spending a couple thousand dollars buying the lightest gear possible, my pack still weighs in at 45lbs. I have a little panic attack: damn, it is too heavy, how the hell am I going to do this? I consider dumping some food; maybe leave my puff jacket behind… Jeff advises against it, I will have to just deal with it. I totally loose my self‑confidence, and go my hotel room desponded. The problem is that we have to carry everything over to the top and down the other side, the dreaded “carry over”. Irony of ironies, the pack doesn’t even get any lighter as the trip progresses, as you eat the food and lighten the load, you put it right back in the bag, in the form of shit, the infamous blue bags. And since I have shitphobia; I am bringing extra thick zip locks and latex gloves to handle the whole ordeal.

Day one – Glacier Crossing

We meet Jeff and Mark, the second guide, for breakfast at 6:00am. Mark seems to be a young and enthusiastic climber. He clearly looks up to Jeff for direction and validation. During breakfast I try to eat as much as I can, anticipating long days with a huge calorie deficit, and hoping to have as many bowel movements as possible before we get in “blue bag territory”.

We drive a couple of hours to the White River Range station where we do the necessary check-in; and soon after we start the hike.

We hit the trail at 9:30am and I go into a very introspect mode. I am dealing with my own anxieties about the physical demands of climb. The same anxieties that kept me awake for a week or so before. I am finally here and still completely unsure of my capabilities. The first few hours are difficult, my boots are new and not broken in, I feel blisters coming. My pack is heavy, my shoulders and back are not used to the weight and hurt. The trail however is easy and I push along pretending I am not worried about the climb ahead, pretending to be cool, to be casual about what is to come. I am very aware of my attempt to mask my apprehension.

We reach St. Elmo pass (no fire in sight) at 1:30pm and go down to the Winthrop Glacier. As we rope up to cross it, Jeff casually and rhetorically asks: “You all have been on glaciers before, so you know what to do, right?” Hmmm… I haven’t; but I know the theory, I read about it. Jeff looks at me in disbelief: “I need to talk to George about that”. Unfortunately for me, it is too late for him to kick me out. I can only imagine what is going through his mind.

Jeff turns south and we move way down the glacier losing elevation, to find a less fractured section for the crossing. I hate loosing elevation, if I am going up, I want to stay up. It is long enough the way it is. We turn north again and move over to Curtiss Ridge.

At around 4:00pm, a storm hits us. The usual mountain cocktail of wind and snow, with sleet as topping. We navigate through the storm and find a suitable camp location around 4:50pm. Jeff and Mark quickly prepare the platforms as Ann, Rick and I erect the tent. We get in, the wind is blowing hard and it is cold. We spend hours melting snow and cooking dinner, chatting about past experiences, motivations and, inevitably, about tomorrow. I notice that Ann and Rick are good partners; they are mellow, mindful, considerate. Life in the cluttered tent is made very tolerable because they show patience and understanding of the others necessities. I am pleased it is them that are here with me; and it is odd, since until yesterday they were total strangers.

Jeff announces our departure time for day 2: 4:00am. I tuck in my sleeping bag; take my knock-myself-out drug combination: 2 Tylenol PM, 3 Ibuprofen and 3mg of Melatonin. I try to fall asleep, I am cold and uneasy. By now I am resigned to live with my doubts, I can’t let go of it. Tomorrow is going to be a

challenging day; I have no illusions to perform; I just hope not to become a liability. I think of home, and how much easier it would have been if I had accepted my reality and stayed with my books.

Day two – Up to Thumb Rock

Day two I wake up around 3:30am. At 4:00am Mark sounds the reveille, time to get going. The weather is bit ominous, but it is not too cold. We get up, break camp and start going north, over Curtis Ridge and onto the Carbon Glacier. I rope up at the tail, Ann is in the middle and Jeff leads. Mark and Rick form the other rope team. The glacier is beautiful, white and vast. The crevasses are deep, and blue. It is easy to see how one could get caught in the beauty of the thing and walk too close to the edge. The weather clears up and I finally get the feeling of being where I wanted to be. The going is easy and I am feeling good; enjoying the hike. At 8:45am, we are starting to go up the glacier and crossing a pretty fractured zone when a huge avalanche comes down the Willis Wall, due north to where we stand. It roars like a jet engine and the white plumes shoot down the wall. We are in a safe spot, far enough from the wall. I ask Jeff if there is any danger where we stand:

Jeff: “Only if the whole cap comes down”

Me: “If it does, which direction would you run?” Jeff points to south-east. Since we are roped up I want to make sure we don’t run in opposite directions.

At around 12:00pm we reach the ridge proper and everything changes. We start climbing a mess of loose rock and frozen mud. There is a lot of exposure and rock falls. We are short-roped for most of the climb and I hate the feeling of being so closely bound to the other climbers. I feel that I have no freedom to choose my movements and to make small decisions about my climb. I cannot follow my own pace. The whole day we are climbing with crampons and there is very little ice or snow. I look forward to the patches of frozen mud, the only places where I feel confident of my footing. Jeff explains that when we are short-roping in steep terrain, only small slips can be stopped, if anyone has a full fall, it is unlikely that the team will be able to prevent the deep plunge. Not very reassuring, a few years back, while hiking up Mount Whitney, I face planted a couple of times because my crampons kept catching the cables of my gaiters. Any mishap like this in the ridge, would probably not end well.

As we go up a knife thin ridge, Ann knocks down a small rock slide; a couple of microwaves and old style TV sets happily tumble their way down towards Willis Wall; it is a reminder of the precarious condition of the route. An hour or so later; we hear Mark and Rick above us yell: “rock, rock…”. I look up and see a burst of canon balls coming down the gully straight towards us. We all look up, Jeff immediately takes the initiative, controlling our rope team, cool under fire: “Wait...wait…wait…” We all watch the rocks as they approach, faster and faster. They bounce and jump around; chaotic; until they decide where they want to go. Our brains pick up the clues at the same and right moment, Jeff yells: “left... left... left…” We move in unison, fast and together in this very precarious terrain; the rocks shoot past us exactly where we were. One of them hits Ann in the leg; she gets a bleeding knee and some bad bruises. Fucking A, yes that was close one; and off we go.

The story repeats itself a little later. A grapefruit size rock shoots down, but this time no warning. Jeff ducks it, Ann hides behind Jeff; I hide behind Ann, unapologetic. It whistles past us, this time without touching anyone.

We continue up, flat-footing on frozen mud; slipping on loose rock; bad exposure through out; I feel on the edge all the time, very iffy. This is definitely not the idyllically alpine climb I had in mind.

We reach a rock step, a section of vertical and fractured rock, probably 20ft tall. The guides spend some time looking for the best way up. Jeff tests a rock horn by hitting it with the palm of his hand; he wraps a couple of coils of his rope around it and attacks the step. I am holding my breath; all he has for a belay is the horn. If he falls he will go down 30 feet or so, and hopefully the sharp horn would not cut the rope. His crampons scratch the rock looking for purchase, I imagine sparks coming out. He struggles and struggles and concludes that he cannot do it. He then decides to down climb it. I can’t look anymore, down climbing with crampons, heavy pack, helmet, thick layers of clothing, gloves… I am convinced that he is about to eat it, but he makes it down. Jeff decides to try again without the pack. He attacks, huffs and puffs, and disappears over the top. He then tells Mark to send his pack and he hauls it up. Jeff finds a good spot for a “nut-belay” and tells Ann that it is her turn. Ann fights her way up, it is my turn.

Ok, now it is my turn, a rock step to a rock climber, this is my domain, my thing is rock climbing; I can crimp of these little suckers and pull my ass over that no problem… I start on it, but can’t keep my body close to the wall; the backpack weight pulls me off. I try to raise my foot to a good hold, but keep getting kicked away from the rock. I pull my gloves off and crimp on some tiny edges; my hands immediately go numb because of the cold. Damn, this is hard. I try to place the front points of my left crampon in a small angled crack, but wrong angle, I cannot flex my foot because of the boot, it skids off, I imagine sparks again. I try to backstep, stem with my right foot; but when I turn my head to look at it I can’t see anything because of the pack. I am getting tired; my forearms are starting to burn. I do the unthinkable; I use my knee on the edge where I was trying to place my left foot. The sharp little edges against my knee cap make me cringe in pain. This is so embarrassing, in rock climbing the only allowed use of a knee is the exotic knee bar, on a bad ass overhang for a hands free rest. This is pathetic, a shame, a 20 foot piece of rock has completely trashed me. I crawl my way to the top. I hear Russell Brice: “come on Claudio, you cannot climb this mountain on your hands and knees”. The top is a flat slab covered with ball bearings; awful for a leader. I finally get to Jeff, tired, done. I do not want to be here anymore.

After we are all over the rock step, Ann and I rope up with Mark. We are just below Thumb Rock. We start up a steep snow slope, the first good one since the glacier. Mark turns around, look at us and says: “I need a break, I need to eat, I am feeling loopy”. Loopy? I am in disbelief; it is like if Superman is flying around with Lois Lane and tells her that he is feeling loopy, he needs to land for a snack. Mark, bad ass guide, and Superman, should never get loopy. I ask him if we should wait until we get to a flatter spot. Mark decides to forego his snack, and keeps going. A minute later we finally get to our high camp on the upside of Thumb Rock. It is 3:50pm and we have been climbing for almost 10 hours. It was not a “short 6 hour day”.

I am tired, my legs are wobbly. I am hungry enough to become somewhat apathetic. I have a hard time organizing my actions to accomplish anything useful. I feel lost and overwhelmed; I look at my backpack open with tent and sleeping bag and food and stove spread all over and I don’t know where to start. I need to be shaken out of stupor. And I am, at this very moment an avalanche rips down Willis Wall, “mountain fireworks” in the words of Jeff. I snap out of my paralysis, we are all amazed and stand up to watch it. I get my camera and shoot a video; it is an awesome sight. A white river of snow and debris follow the gullies, oftentimes overflowing them, hugging the wall, just to be ejected over the edge of the cliff. At the base, a cone of gray dirty snow fans away from the wall, the consequence of countless previous avalanches. After the show, we all get moving preparing for the night.

The camp is basically a couple of tent platforms on a 45 degrees slope, beautiful and exposed; with very little room to move around. Blue-bagging will be a challenge here; but we all do our duties. We cook dinner, and I try to eat as much as I can. Little that I knew at the time, I would not have another meal in 30 hours. We settle again for the night, I am glad I am sleeping on the uphill side; Ann is in the middle and Rick just over the edge. His position does nothing to prevent him to quickly fall sleep and soundly snore throughout the short night. Thankfully I am well equipped with drugs and earplugs. Jeff announces start time for 2:00am.

Day three – Not quite so Summit Day

I wake up at 1:30am, and toss and turn until I hear Mark approaching our tent. It is 2:00am, time to get up and get going. I am in a hurry, yesterday was too demanding; I question if I will be capable of a harder day. I want to get down as fast as possible. And the quickest way down, I delude myself, is over the top and down through the Emmons Glacier.

To speed things up, I decide to not eat a hot breakfast; I grab a couple of granola bars and start packing. It takes us a couple of hours to break camp. To the East we see dawn; the horizon is a gradient of purple and orange. To the North we see the lights of Seattle. The weather is excellent and the sky is clear. The forecast is for good weather until the night, when a storm is supposed to hit the mountain.

Just before 4:00am we are going up the first snow slope. We are finally pitching up; the climb is too steep for short-roping. I like the climbing better, much better than yesterday.

Mark and Rick are ahead of us. They seem to stop and we get closer. I see Mark throwing up on the slope, he complains that he fucking hates oatmeal. Jeff packed their breakfast and that’s all they had. Great way to start the longest day of my life.

The going is slower, but I feel much safer. Jeff climbs ahead, stretches the 50m of the rope and builds an anchor, either with snow pickets and ice axes or with ice screws. He then brings Ann and me up. Pitch after pitch we climb into the morning. Throughout the day we will do 17 pitches of climb; and several sections of short-rope; all over snow and ice.

I am amazed with the patience of the guides. They could be running up here. I asked Jeff how long it takes him to climb Liberty Ridge without clients; he tells me that they do car-to-car; and they only rope up to cross the glaciers. For them to be walking at this very measured pace to keep us client in the game is a display of self control. Jeff steps seem to follow a metronome:

1,2,3 step

At times I am sure his mind is wandering:

“I need to clean the gutters at home” – step

“Can’t forget the diapers for the baby” – step

“Old McDonald has a farm” – step

“Ee i ee i o” – step

At around 12:00pm, after 8 hours of climb, we start moving on ice. I look down and I see the Carbon Glacier, 2000ft bellow us. In the short-rope sections I feel that our lives are hanging on the tips of three pairs of crampons. If anything fails, if anyone takes a flat foot step that is not so flat, if a crampon catches another, Jeff will not be able to stop us… the ice is bullet proof. I have never before put my life in the hands of people that I knew so little and in such exposed conditions. Jeff has been doing this for 20 years; I am sure that if there is a mistake is not going to come from him; but me or Ann? I feel irresponsible. But the decision to go through this was made a long time ago, when I gave IMG my credit card number; and when I didn’t take any action to stop the sequence of events. Up here, it is not the time to put it all into question.

When it gets sketchy, Jeff cuts little steps on the ice with his axe, to improve our footing and odds a bit. It is unnerving, it is relentless, and it goes on and on. We are tired, and the backpacks are heavy. This is the nature of the beast, the alpine compromise: speed is safety; so we trade. The fact that we made out of here is probably proof that the right calls were made.

We keep going and 3 hours later, now 3:00pm, we get to the bottom of the ice cliffs that surround Liberty Cap. I tell Jeff that I am exhausted; I am breathing as hard as I can; I feel that my heart rate is maxed. I keep asking for mini-breaks; the “Old MacDonald has a farm” pace is too much for me now. I hope that Jeff knows a song with a longer refrain; maybe “row, row, row your boat…”? When I see the size of the cliffs I realize that it is going to take a long time to clear it.

There is no way that we can avoid the storm that is coming. I look over my shoulder and there it is. Large clouds are coming up the mountain; we are level with them now. They are well defined, no fuzzy edges; they look like solid, consistent objects. They are beautiful, in the way that black and white pictures are beautiful, with fractal patterns and grey gradients. But this beauty betrays the load they carry in their bellies. They are coming to engulf us. It feels irrevocable; I wish someone would call them back; just go, go to wherever you came from. For us the time for decision making is long gone. What will happen will happen, not a thing can be done; the only question is how bad we are going to get it.

We spend a lot of time looking for an easy way up the cliffs. First we climb a couple of pitches going diagonally to the right; until we reach a shelf where the guides bring us all up. From there we do two pitches of pure traverse to the left, right underneath a big vertical wall. The traverse puts us on a ramp that climbs up slightly to the right, over the wall, and away from the edge of the Cap. It feels like we are finally on the summit ramp. By now the wind is picking up, and there is plenty of snow being blown around, a lot of spindrift. It took us 4 hours to negotiate the cliffs; and at 7:00pm we get to summit of Liberty Cap: 13 hours of non-stop climbing. And we plunge head first into the soup.

The Storm

When we approach the summit; the storm hit way stronger than any of us expected. The wind builds up quickly; visibility is almost zero. The temperature is in the teens, and with wind chill is way below zero. Rime ice builds on us. From time to time, I can’t even see Jeff, who I know is 10 yards ahead of me. It feels like being in a train station, with an infinitely long white high speed train going 60mph right in front of my nose. Once in a while, through a window in the train, I get a glimpse of Jeff on the other side of the tracks, struggling against the wind. The image is sharp and crisp and ephemeral, it vanishes again in a fraction of a second.

Jeff tells us that we should protect our faces but my balaclava is still in the backpack. I need to take my gloves off and dig for it in the pack. I keep thinking of Russell Brice line in “Beyond the Limit”: “you loose a glove you loose a hand; you loose a glove, you loose a hand”. Jeff kneels next to me holding my gloves and my helmet as I put the balaclava on. It is a very stressful moment; I am very aware of the seriousness of the situation, I don’t have a spare glove. As soon as the balaclava is on, ice immediately starts building on it, around my mouth and nose. I have to keep peeling grape size chunks of ice from my face, from my eyebrows. My eyes are icing up; I feel the exposed flesh on my face being sandblasted. I have to pull clumps of ice from my eyes to open them. The wind sucks the air out of my lungs and I can’t stop hyperventilating, it feels like panic.

In the middle of storm, with the wind roaring around us; Jeff announces “this is Liberty Cap”. So what? Am I supposed to be happy, proud? I just want to get out of here. Jeff walks around like he is looking for something, he squints like is trying to pierce the whiteout and see beyond it; first to one side than another… he is lost. He calls Mark and tells him: “This is not right; we need to get the GPS”. Mark drops his pack and gets the GPS and the map, which has all the waypoints on it. I am watching all this in horror; they are handling this tiny little piece of paper in 60mph winds. If we lose it, how the hell are we going to get out of here?

During this whole time, I am just sitting there and watching. It is a bizarre sensation; I know that the situation is dire; but I am not cold, my feet and hands are fine. I am lucid and self-aware. I have no remorse, no self-pity. I know I am in trouble, but I don’t feel in trouble. My fear and apprehension are very rational and merited.

After fiddling with the GPS for sometime, Jeff comes to me and shouts next to my ear: “The GPS is dead, do you have batteries?” I get to my knees with the pack in front of me. My headlamp is in the top of my pack. I take my gloves off again, open the headlamp and take the batteries out. Jeff holds the GPS to me with the battery compartment open; and I place the batteries in, struggling to see the right orientation. The whole process is deliberate, every move is slow and measured; it feels like we are doing some kind of religious ritual, handling some old sacred relics.

The guides get the GPS going again, and after what seems an eternity, Mark shouts: “I get it, I have a good bead on it”; and with this, he takes off.

At this moment I look back and see Ann sitting down slightly behind me and not able to get up. To my left and somewhat ahead of me I see Rick, struggling to get out a hole he fell into; he is pinned down by the wind. That is the first time that I think we are not going to make it, we are falling apart. I sit down in frustration and realize that tonight is the night I am going to die.

The Austrian climber: You're very good. I have really enjoyed climbing with you.

Dr. Jonathan Hemlock: We'll make it.

The Austrian climber: I don't think so. But we shall continue with style.

With that I decide to get up and keep Mark on my sights, follow him no matter what, I will drag Ann if I have to. Jeff kneels next to Ann and coaxes her up, helping her stand and walk. I am ahead and try to pull her to keep her moving. It is getting late, probably 8 or 9 pm, and in normal conditions the descent to Camp Schurman, on the Emmons Glacier, takes 5 to 6 hours. I go to Jeff, and shout in his ear: “Should we dig a snow cave, should we look for a crevasse?” Jeff replies: “Not yet, not here”. He tells me to lead the rope and follow Mark. Mark goes over a ridge and starts going down the slope on the other side. I try to keep up, but in the maelstrom I stumble and fall. My second ice axe is in my harness and in the fall the pick tears into my pants and cuts my leg; the spike gets stuck in my boot. I try to free it and spend too much time doing so, I loose sight of Mark. I get really pissed. I have to put the tool in my backpack and loose more time; I don’t want to deal with it; so in frustration I toss the axe. Some lucky climber in a clearer day will walk out of Rainier with a brand new Quark.

We start going downhill, and as soon as we break from the plateau, the wind slows down; to a point where it is actually possible to do things, to be functional. This was the right slope at the right time, just enough to give me hope.

I start trying to motivate Ann, “we are getting out of here, tomorrow we will have dinner at Copper Creek and pig out, we are going to make it, we are going to make it”. I get excited, and decide that it is time for a picture. I call Jeff and Ann and tell them that “I want to take a picture”. Jeff looks at me: “you want to what?” I reply, “I want a picture, I need a picture of this, this is important, we are going to remember this”. We get together and I hold the camera out with my right arm in typical self-portrait mode. I press the button and damn, the flash doesn’t fire, shit! All this time my gloves are in my jacket, my hands are getting cold. I fiddle with the buttons to put the flash on; and tell Jeff: “I need another one”. I think he is about to kill me, his face in the picture shows how much he is not liking this. After the picture, we rush to catch up with Mark. We keep moving but it is too late: after an hour or so Jeff turns to us and say: “This is not working; we need to find a place to spend the night”.

When he says that, I have just walked by a rock outcropping. Between the rock and the snow, there is a trench, as it is typical because the spot is sheltered from the wind by the rocks, and the snow accumulation is less than in the open. At the bottom of the trench there is a hole, probably 3ft by 2ft; and dark inside. I yell at Jeff: “there is hole there, there is hole there”. Jeff checks it out and tells me: “Wait here; I will go check it out”. Jeff and Mark get together next to the hole and I hear Mark telling Jeff: “put me on belay and I will go down check it out”. They build an anchor with an ice axe, throw a rope down the hole; Mark rappels down. I am sitting down, not looking at them because of the direction of the wind. Sometime goes by, I don’t remember how long. Before I know it, they call me: “Claudio, it is your turn, set up your belay device and rappel all the way to the bottom”. I put the rappel device on and it is backwards, Mark yells: “it is ok, go”. Nope, I want it right, gloves off, redo it, gloves on, I don’t want to get sloppy. I redo it and rappel, letting myself slide into the hole. I rappel past Rick; he is standing immobile, slightly hunched forward, on shelf a bit to the side, staring at nothing. I keep going down. I pass Ann; she is on a snow ramp, kneeling against the wall, her face inches from the ice; both hands flat against the ice. I ask: “Ann, are you ok”. She looks scared and replies: “I can’t see anything”..

The Cave

I keep going, all the way to the bottom. Mark later tells me that it was 100ft from the entrance. When I start going down the cave I have visions of Maurice Herzog and Louis Lachenal spending the night in a bottomless crevasse, and coming out without toes and fingers. I think of two slopped ice walls, a couple of feet apart. And we jammed in there, crampons on one side, our backs on the other, hanging from our harnesses, without blood flow to our legs. Tomorrow we would get out incomplete, if at all. What I find is a huge cave, with the bottom mostly flat, the ice walls reflecting a faint and serene blue, like the inside of those sleep goggles from a Skymall catalogue. The air is filled with sparkles, tiny little ice crystals floating around and shinning back at us, like a thousand Tinker-Bells going about their business. It is peaceful, it is quiet, it is warm; for me it is also salvation. How improbable to find it? How much more improbable would be to have Gollum coming out of the corner?

At the bottom of cave there is a spot flat enough for the small tent and a larger slope that with some chopping will easily accommodate our larger tent. As soon as we are all down, Jeff and Mark start preparing for our stay. They borrow my adze and attack the slope to make it flatter so the tent can be set.

My eyes keep getting worse; my right eye is so painful that I can’t open it. I ask Jeff if he has a first-aid kit, I need to tape the eye shut. Jeff tells me that the kit is on the side of his pack. I dig for it and with a lot of struggle cut a piece of gauze and tape and build myself an eye patch. The pain gets so intense that I almost pass out. I tell Mark: “I can’t see anymore, I need help”. I am hating myself for this, I want to be there with them, proactive, participating in our survival; not been led by the hand. I try to make myself small and get out of the way, feeling fucking useless.

I hear Ann throwing up, dry heaving. I hear that she is cold, shivering. I hear Mark and Jeff trying to warm her up, heating water bottles and helping her change into dry clothes. Mark asks me for my sleeping bag and pad and sets it all up in the tent. He tells me to get in the bag and get warm. I am not really cold, but I am exhausted. I get in and lay down, and I can’t move. It has been 23 hours since we started climbing. I am about to fall asleep; but relentless Mark is back: “You need to eat, give me your food and I will prepare it for you”. I am thinking, “Leave me alone, I want to sleep”. My left eye starts to hurt and I bandage it too.

Mark gives me my food, re-hydrated scrambled eggs. I eat a couple of spoonfuls and put the rest aside. I can’t eat; I am in so much pain that I am nauseated. Tomorrow he is going to yell at me for not eating enough. We are running out of gas, so Jeff places out the pots and canteens to collect the drip coming from the icicles. During the night, it is all we hear, the drips are very soothing; and it is hard to comprehend the disparity between our now peaceful surroundings and the roaring outside. Were we really out there?

Ann is lying next to me, she can’t get warm, and she can’t stop shivering. I ask her if she wants me to get in the bag with her to warm her up. I get in it and after ten minutes she stops shivering and we both fall asleep. Later in the night I wake up too hot, sweating, and tell Ann: I need to get out, I need to go to my bag. I have my neck gaiter over my eyes and my face is sweating now. With the pain I start to feel nauseated again, I start panicking. I take the gaiter out and rub some snow on my face, it cools me and I am able to fall back asleep. Next thing I know it is 8:00am, and the guides are up and about. Again I can’t bring myself to eat breakfast; I nibble on a piece of granola bar. I am fully aware that this is what makes the difference, people that can remain functional and keep taking care of themselves; these are the survivors; and I am failing.

Jeff climbs out of the cave and gets in touch with George at headquarters with the satellite phone. The storm is still going full strength and the forecast is that it will continue for a couple of days. The plan now is for a couple of guides that are halfway up the Emmons Glacier to come up to us. They will wand and GPS the route to mark the descent. There is also another guide team on Camp Muir, on the other side of the mountain, on standby, just in case.

Day four – Rescue

The two guides, Eric and Josh, are coming up through the storm. They were coming up the Emmons Glacier with their group of clients and two other guides. When they got the call, they sent the clients down to camp, turned to face the mountain and climbed into the storm. I wonder how it felt to go in where everyone else was running from. I wonder how it feels to have the confidence to stare down the barrel of the gun and keep moving. Mark would later say that we dodged a bullet on Liberty Ridge; but Eric and Josh first got in front of it.

In the cave we are all anxiously waiting for them. I have no idea how long it would take; so I pack and I wait. I try to get myself ready to go out and face bogeyman again. I put on every layer of clothing that I have; I tape my right eye shut and use my sunglasses to protect my left eye. The glasses keep fogging up and I can barely see anything.

There is intermittent radio exchange between Jeff and Eric. I hear that Eric is having a hard time crossing the bergshrund to get on the Cap; I hear Jeff giving him the GPS coordinates of our cave. Every time they broadcast another IMG guide, Ann, who is at Camp Schurman pitches in: “We will have food for your guys down here; hang in there, you are doing well, be safe, the weather is getting better”. It was very reassuring to know there is all this care and concern about us all over the mountain.

Jeff and Mark get us in motion; they shuttle our backpacks out of the cave. We are soon done and we have to wait. I should use this time and eat and drink; but somehow I am already feeling rescued and start to get lazy and negligent. I have the feeling that I am done with this game, can you please just take me home now?

I put my crampons on by feel; I have to ask Jeff to double check if I put them correctly. If they come off on a steep slope it would be a long way down. We keep our eyes on the cave entrance; a faint blue light comes thru. As the light hits the ice it forms a beautiful gradient from light to deep blue as you look away from the entrance. We are in the dark, and the blue is our boundary.

The rope dangles down from the entrance like a fishing line from a lazy fisherman. We sit down, stare at the bobber, drink beer and wait for a guide to bite.

Around 10:00am I hear Eric’s voice in Jeff’s radio, he is screaming with excitement: “We see the backpacks, we have found you”. I look at the rope and it starts to move: a fish is nibbling at the bait. The rope does this little dance, small moves up and down, up and down. I see someone rappelling down the rope: he is covered in rime ice, but his equipment looks tight, everything is in place. It is Eric, and he yells: “Dude, this cave is awesome”. Josh follows him and soon all the four guides are excitedly exchanging stories, how hard it was to cross the bergshrund, how lucky we were to find the cave, how bad it is out there. We climbers are sitting to the side, staring at this display of excitement. For us, it is a struggle, for them it is just another day in the mountains, almost enjoyable.

The guides decide how we are going to rope up and we start climbing out of the cave. It is the most technical climb that we do in the whole trip, vertical ice styrofoam snow, with two axes; this could actually have been a lot of fun.

As soon as my head pops out, I am back in the washing machine. The wind is as strong as ever; the light is diffuse white, I cannot tell where land separates from sky. I imagine that this is how it feels to be in a glass of milk with someone furiously stirring it; now I know and I am sure one day this analogy will be useful.

We all line up outside, and parade like, get started, one rope at a time, to the right, march. I am now single minded, I know I can walk downhill; I can’t do anything else. But as soon as we start we go uphill: I yell “betrayal, I’ve been cheated…what the fuck? We were supposed to go downhill, down not up, the camp is down there, I don’t want to go the summit, I want to go home, and home is at sea level; way down there…stupid guides, they are trying to go to the summit.” They are not; we have to go up the saddle to wrap around and down the other side.

I am roped up with Josh and Mark. Erik is navigating with his compass and GPS, we all follow. There is absolutely nothing visible, we and the ropes are the only non-white things around. I focus on the rope ahead of me. I try to guess if I am stepping up or down by watching the rope. I have no contrast perception, and can’t see any of the terrain features literally under my nose. Josh at one time seems to stop and point to the ground. He keeps going and I follow. When I get to where he was, I look down trying to see what he was pointing at. Obviously it was a crevasse, and obviously I fall in it. I hear someone yells: “We got one in the hole”. I feel my legs dangling in the space, without touching anything. I am stuck at the mouth of the ogre, looking down the throat of the beast. I imagine that I fell in my Hollow Man and he will soon come out of the ice and pull me all the way down. I am jammed, my chest and my backpack prevent me from falling deeper. I struggle and inch my way out; crawling on my belly and using my ice axe to gain leverage. I lift my head and look up to see Josh attentive, tensioning the rope. The effort is debilitating for my depleted body. As I come out, I am in all four, panting and discouraged. When is this going to be over?

After one hour or so Eric’s GPS dies out. This is GPS number 3 going down. The guides huddle up; I am right next to them. I hear all the discussion and am impressed: they are so confident; the discussion is direct and to the point: guide A: we passed this, guide B: so we need to turn left in 200 ft; guide C: yeah, I saw that… It was bad ass through out. Jeff says: “Ok, good job, well done, than let’s go”.

We get to the bergshrund and Erik says: “it is too steep; this is not the way we came”. Jeff goes look for a way down. We all sit around, I am slightly behind Ann and she is motionless, hunched forward. She has her hands in front of her, like she is trying to form a ball. I know she is dealing with her own demons; I have been completely enclosed, I have forgotten that there are others here also trying to make it down. I wish I had the strength to go to her and put an arm around her.

Jeff finds a way down, they set a rappel and one by one we go down the bergshrund. Mark is the gatekeeper, he stands at the anchor in a platform dug above the cliff. He tells me to go to him and prepare to rappel. He asks me if I know how to tie a Munster Hitch. I don’t think I can hold the rope with my frozen gloves, frozen grip. My hands are fine, but my gloves got wet and froze. I tell Mark this but am not sure if he hears it. I tie the knot and hesitantly lower myself down. It all works; and soon I am down.

I am the last one besides Mark and I wait for him to go down. Mark coils the rope but doesn’t like the way it turns out; so re re-coils it, again and again. All the time, I am just there on the slope looking up and waiting for him to come down. When Mark is done, I rope up with him and Eric.

We soon catch and pass the others. From now on we are going ahead and will only see them in basecamp. Erik is leading because he placed the wands, the wands that are going to guide us down through the crazy maze of crevasses. Watching Erik at work is mesmerizing. It is a total whiteout; he is totally silent and inexpressive, just walking. He walks one way, and all of sudden, without any visible landmarks he just turns in another. It makes me think of a bumper car in an amusement park. I start trying to guess when he is going to turn next. What triggers it? What does he see? Does he really know where he is going? And there, in the middle on the fog, a faint dark line, like someone just scratched the white canvas. It looks out of place; a thin black stalk slowly moving in the wind, like an improbable flower coming through concrete and just teasing the elements: “I can be here”.

Erik walks by the wand without acknowledging it, like it has always been there and was never a question of finding it. For me it is the first sign of the basecamp, my Milk way that will take me home, my bread crumb, my first connection with the getting out of here. I have to touch it, so as I pass by I stretch my frozen hand and with a caress test its flimsiness.

Now with every step down the weather is a little clear, the wind a little less. The terrain is quite easy, just heel plunges on a névé of perfect texture. But the way is long and I am tired. I still have all my layers on, and as the wind dies I get too hot. I have no water, and haven’t had any since we left the cave. I need to stop. Erik keeps pushing, we are almost down. At one point, I just stop and refuse to move, I tell Erik that I need five, I need layers off. Do you have any food? Do you have any water?

Finally, sneaking on us, the sun shines, and the views open up. I think it is all behind me, I am out of here. Erik: “Do you see the camp? We are almost there”; “no I don’t see the camp, I don’t see shit”… After another eternity of stumbles, of rolling my heavy boots and crampons down the hill, I notice a minute assembly of objects arranged in neat little rows. They are at the edge of the glacier, by some rock structure. I realize that’s camp, I realize that I had the wrong perception of the size of the landscape around me. The tents look so small and tucked away, hidden in a little corner, like they don’t want to be perceived, they want to stay out of trouble. It takes us a good hundred stumbles from the moment that I see camp until I finally collapse in it. It is 7:00pm; I am sitting down looking at my boots, my elbows on my knees, my hands holding my head. Jamie comes to me with a bottle of water, sits next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. I look at her, have never seen her before. Who is this angel? She is pretty, the reassuring look of a strong woman. She smiles with her eyes, the sweet smile of kindness: “We were worried about you guys”. Three days of exposure, cold, anxiety, fear, anguish, and it all ends with the sweetest stranger consoling me? Am I dreaming? Could it get any better than that? I break down and start crying. My tears come out like a torrent. I try to hide it, I held it together up to now, a little pride should take me a little further. Jamie helps me into the cook tent and gives me a bowl of noodles, the best in my life. Josh (another Josh) is in the tent and wants to take a look at my eye, he puts drops in it and bandages it. I am been taken care of, I feel warm and accomplished.

Jamie is an IMG client with the group that was going up the Emmons Glacier; Josh is one of the guides with the same group. I feel the eyes of everyone on us; the Liberty Ridge climbers that spent the night on the summit, in the midst of the storm that sent them packing down the mountain. I have had my romantic adventure; I have gotten into one of my books. I have the cynical realization that I just had my own little epic. It may be insignificant in the wide mountaineering world but it shook my own small world. The only remorse now is the self-doubt that afflicted me throughout the climb. How preposterous can one be?

I ask Jeff to borrow his satellite phone and call Kim, my wife. She is still totally unaware of what happened to us. I struggle to tell her that we are fine. She doesn’t understand it, of course you are fine. I tell her that it was not pretty, but we are down and safe; I will tell her everything when I get home. I can’t hold the conversation any longer.

After a while everyone starts turning in for the night. I walk around camp by myself. The light is beautiful; there is quietness and a bizarre lack of movement. It is all so clear, so lit, so still, so easy. I go to our tent and Rick and Ann are already asleep. I keep replaying in my head all the events and have a long tortured night.

Day five – Going home

The next day we are light beings, giddy with excitement, glissading down the glacier, having fun; like kids playing by a backyard swimming pool, the sun is strong and grass leaves floats in the water. We talk a lot, we joke, we are casual about it all. But it doesn’t feel right to me, we have just extricated ourselves from an awful predicament; shouldn’t we show more reverence? It feels like we are betraying the gravity of our yesterday, of our survival and existence.

Twenty four hours after leaving basecamp I land in San Jose, to my wife’s welcome at the airport. I am surprised again by her new short and dark hair; even though she had had it for two weeks now. I am home and realize once again how smooth and warm my dog’s coat is; and how much it makes home so welcoming and cozy. I walk out of this world and this reality disappears, becomes an uncertain memory; a collections of did-it-really-happen moments.

I am sitting in front of my computer; I am starving, ravenous; I am really really sleepy. I am now near-sighted on my right eye; my left eye is not affected. My toes and the tip of my fingers are sore and numb. I have nightmares, for a couple of weeks. This is the balance of our epic. It is surprising how little damage we suffered. I wonder what would have happened if we had not found the cave. On June 18^th 2008 three people got hit by a similar storm near Camp Muir. They dug a trench and spent the night in it. The next day one was dead and the other two were rescued with severe frostbite and hypothermia. That could have been us. I imagine that we would have dug a hole and crawled into. It would have taken time; I doubt that the Ann, Rick and I would have been much help. We would have probably stayed to the side while Mark and Jeff prepared a snow wall or a cave. We would have gotten cold and apathetic. What would have happened? Up to this day, every time Ann and I talk about it, I feel my stomach churn; I feel that I took a gamble and was irresponsible. The incredible improbability of finding the cave saved us.

When I was checking out of the hotel in Ashland, Ethel, the owner, is surprised to hear our story; they didn’t get any storm down here:

“She does her own thing, doesn’t she?”

THE FALL MOUNTAIN FESTIVAL SEPT 12th 2009

2009-09-06T14:13:00.000-07:00

FALL MOUNTAIN FESTIVAL

Again Join Mark Allen, Philippe Wheelock, and Seth Hobby for a Multimedia experience to celebrate the worlds undiscovered Mountains.

Host:	Mark Allen, Philippe Wheeelock, and Seth Hobby
Type:	Party - Night of Mayhem
Network:	Global
Price:	$5 MEMBERSHIP FEE

Start Time:	Saturday, September 12, 2009 at 6:00pm
End Time:	Sunday, September 13, 2009 at 2:00am
Location:	MAZAMA -FREESTONE INN-NORTH CASCADES HELI BARN
Street:	HY 20
City/Town:	Mazama, WA

Phone:	3603052383
Email:	climb@markallenalpine.com

Description

Seth, Philippe, and I will be hosting a party of slide shows, socializing, and music in the North Cascades Methow Valley. It's been too long since we have seen all of you so lets get together and celebrate!

Philippe and will be showing slides from the Ruth Gorge AK and Seth a section on Ice climbing in Norway.

After the show DJ Travis Smith is going to spin records until the broad day light.

This has rocked in the past and it will continue to keep rocking. Don't miss out, I always hear about it when you do. Don't cry in your beer later when you can drink with us!

ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE DOOR and HOP WATER
WILL GO TOWARDS THE INDEX CLIMBING FUND.

COME OUT FOR ROCKTOBER AT RED ROCKS NV!

2009-09-05T20:43:00.000-07:00

LINK TO SEE MORE DETAILS ON RED ROCKS CLIMBING-CLICK HERE

TRIP DATES: April 1-20

This Spring, IFMGA guide Mark Allen will be guiding through his outfitters network in the Southwestern US to take advantage of North America's prime rock climbing season: October. Please join me on a trip geared to your liking in Red Rock National Conservation Area (NCA), just out side of Las Vegas.

With the variety of traditional cracks and sporty face climbs, Red Rocks has something to offer for every skill level, from beginner to seasoned rock climbers. This world-renowned climbing area and desert mountain environment make the perfect combo in creating a rewarding climbing trip.Plus, did I mention these are day-trips? How civilized! Days end with beer at the ale house, planning the next best outing!

Jay Allen climbing Neon Sunset 5.8*** at one of the many sport climbing areas at Red Rocks. ~Photo Mark Allen

ABOUT THE CONSERVATION AREA

Red Rock Canyon was designated as Nevada's first National Conservation Area located 17 miles west of the Las Vegas Strip on Charleston Boulevard/State Route 159. The area is 195,819 acres and is visited by thousands of climbers each year. In marked contrast to a town focused on entertainment, bling-bling, and gaming, Red Rock Canyon offers hundreds sport climbs, moderate multi-pitch rock climbs, and long Alpine routes, and treks. "Alpine Routes" you ask? Absolutely. The nature of the red rock terrain is such that it yields climbing that requires the skills of an alpine rock climber. Tall faces and towers, interesting approaches, adventure climbing, and complicated descents evoke many of the same strategies required to climb in places like Washington Pass in the North Cascades or the High Sierra in California.

Willie seconding Pitch 7 on Epinephrine. My favorite pitch of the whole climb. Steep finger crack that locks your fingers into place. The climbing was steep and fast~ Photo Mark Allen

So Come on out! Bring the family and combine it with a trip to Vegas, Stay on the strip or one of the more quiet modest ranches. Lets work out the best trip for the time you have. Drop me a line and lets do it!

LINK TO SEE MORE DETAILS ON RED ROCKS CLIMBING-CLICK HERE

TRIP DATES: April 1-20

Contact:

cell :360-305-2383

climb@markallenalpine.com

**For further reading on my adventures in Red Rocks go to my HOME and click on Rock Climbing.

SPEND NOVEMBER IN JOSHUA TREE, CA

2009-09-05T16:13:00.000-07:00

LINK TO SEE DETAILS ON "JOSHUA TREE CLIMBING"

The Quartze Monzonite rocks and the Joshua tree forests provides a unique escape from your home. There are literally hundreds of crags here like this one located in pristine desert for your climbing enjoyment. ~Photo Mark Allen

TRIP DATES NOVEMBER 1-DECEMBER 1st

WHY JOSHUA TREE?

November is just the tip of the J-Tree prime season. Each year many climbers from all over the world travel to Joshua Tree which has more established routes than any climbing area in North America. It could very well be the most popular climbing area in the world. What climbers experience here today is the result of several generations of climbers who have come before them. This has influenced the climbing ambiance of Joshua Tree to be a very commutative and relaxed environment. This November Mark Allen's Expeditions Northwest (ENW) will be running custom trips through local outfitters offering the most accommodating rock cragging trips in the park.

NUTS AND BOLTS:

ENW can customize your trip to suite your groups climbing style, skills needed, and logistics required to maximize your time here. All you need is a small carry-on or ruck sack in your car with a few basic essentials and the rest is easily provided. Food, camping essentials, shelter, or accommodations can be arranged through my service.

Ian McEleney send out the depths on a local favorite 5.10 hand crack~Photo Mark Allen

NEAR-BY AIRPORTS

Palm Springs Airport :

1hr : 15min from Park Entrance: $220-300 for a round trip ticket.

ENW can arrange:

*Food*Rentals*Accommodations *Camping Essentials*Camping*Climbing Guide*Group Equipment

Ian McEleney works out the moves on Coarse and Buggy 5.11b on Top Rope training for a clean future lead~Photo Mark Allen

So come on down and lets make your trip happen. Book your trip now for Joshua tree for the 2009 season. I'm looking forward to working with you all.

LINK TO SEE DETAILS ON "JOSHUA TREE CLIMBING"

TRIP DATES NOVEMBER 1-DECEMBER 1st

CONTACT

e-mail: climb@markallenalpine.com

phone: 360-305-2383

30 DAY EXPEDITION TO RUTH GORGE ALASKA

2009-03-11T00:15:00.000-07:00

LINK TO ALASKA RUTH GORGE ASCENTS, FOR TRIP DETAI LS

*Mooses Tooth in the Ruth Gorge Alaska Range
Expedition Location: Ruth Gorge, Central Alaska Range, Alaska USA
Date of Expedition: April 25 through May 26
Expedition Climbers: Mark Allen, Ben Kurdt, Phillip Wheelock

Contact: IMGalpinistgrant@gmail.com ;
PO BOX 1004 Winthrop WA 98862;
Tell: 360-305-2383

THE PROJECT
The Ruth Gorge in the Central Alaska Range has been in the center of alpinist activity in North America. It is this venue we seek mixed alpine objectives while establishing new routes on major peaks.

LINK ALASKA RUTH GORGE ASCENTS, FOR TRIP DETAILS

CLIMB IN THE NORTH CASCADES WITH NORTH CASCADE MOUNTAIN GUIDES

2009-03-10T18:09:00.000-07:00

LINK TO "NORTH CASCADES CLIMBING THIS SUMMER" FOR MORE DETAILS

Come join me this season in the North Cascades this summer. This is an Alpine environment that will give you an experence that you will not find on the Larger Cascades Volcanos. The North Cascades gives you a wild sence of remotness on Alpine Rock and Alpine Glaciers at moderate eleveations. I will be basing my trips out of two small towns (MAZAMA and MARBLEMOUNT) depending on the objective we seek. Bellow are common programs that I will be running.

*INTRODUCTION TO ALPINE ROCK CLIMBING
*ADVANCED ALPINE ROCK
*RESCUE CLINICS
*INTRODUCTION TO ALPINE MOUNTAINEERING
*ADVANCED ALPINE CLIMBING
*ALPINE TREKS
*GLACIAL TRAVEL AND RESCUE

ALPINE ROCK CLIMBING AT WASHINGTON PASS
Near the Town of Mazama

*Mark Allen Lead's up splitter granite on North Early Winter Spire at Washington Pass~Photo Joel Kauffman

NORTH CASCADES NATIONAL PARK
Based out of Marblemount, WA

There is no other location that offers the same quality of climbing in as breathtaking of a venue than the North Cascades. The verity of terrain offers something for all interests in Rock, Glaciers, or Ice. The climbing yields long moderate rock ridge runs, Glacial traverses, steep rock Climbs, or interesting snow climbs all pack into the remote jagged peaks of the range.

*Bob Huge crossing the Boston Glacier in the North Cascades National Park during a 5-day Alpine program.

LINK TO "NORTH CASCADES CLIMBING THIS SUMMER" FOR MORE DETAILS

2008-11-09T21:04:00.001-08:00

SENDING THE SIERRA

2008-10-23T16:37:00.000-07:00

COMING SOON!!

Joel Kauffman takes on sustained Red Dihedral 5.10c pitch 4 on the Incredible Hulk in the High Sierras CA ~ Photo Mark Allen

Follow Mark and his partners in crime attempting to climb the "Big 4" Alpine Rock Climbs in the Sierra. Also share the rope with Fred Becky and follow how Mark kicked off his season by training in Bishop CA.

ROCKTOBER AT RED ROCKS

2008-10-23T16:25:00.000-07:00

Chris Daymartin approaches Rainbow Mountain in Red Rock National Conservation Area through desert flora. Our early morning group make an alpine start on the classic Crimson Chrysalis III 5.8****. The route climbs the largest tower in the Right side of Mountain.

INTRO TO RED ROCKS

Red Rock Recreational National Conservation Area (NCA) just out side of Las Vegas was my stomping grounds for three weeks this October 2008. 13 Mile BLM campground was my home. I hit the road this fall with the intent to once again focus on technical climbing and not on guiding. This was a long time coming. As a guide chasing my AMGA certification I felt this development to be a necessary in order to raise the bar. Idling the grade of 5.10 for the last ten years it was time to step off the plateau. I chose Red Rocks as one of three key destinations this year for a two-and-a -half month tour de climb in the Southwestern United States along with the Sierras and Joshua Tree. I have avoided this nomadic circuit out of love and time in the Northwest. This time I captured it with both hands. During any length of time in one place I get to see the coming and going of new and old faces. The ebb and flow of social waves is an appreciated part of the climbing life. The reunion of acquaintances is turning us into friends; an effect out of common goals in interests. This year this was highlighted in the deserts of Nevada.

THE CLIMBING

Re-entry into Red Rocks
I teamed up with some great climbers this year. The day I dropped into the area I was already sharing a rope with Todd Passy on Unimpeachable Groping (A climb referring to Clinton during his trial). This is a popular 8 pitch, 5.10 sport clip-up on Rainbow Mountain. It was a reflective moment for me. The last time I had any interaction with this climb was when George Urriosity and Paul Van Beaten, the two first ascentionists, were finishing the climb in 1997. The two climbers pick up me and good friend Matt Anderson hitch hiking into the loop road of Red Rocks during our first visit. George and Paul hounded us to try their new route. I was too intimidated to try the second ascent as an unseasoned 19 year-old. It was the time my climbing was naive and reeked of epic. Twelve years later it sounded like a fun day out.

Todd Passey climbing the Rainbow Wall on Bird Hunters Buttress III 5.9*. This is a partial retro bolted route that climbs to the top of the Wall. Quite the adventure climb on one of Red Rocks proudest features. ~ Photo Mark Allen

Todd and his wife Winslow are veteran Alpine Ascents guides and live in Salt lake Utah. I met both of them in Alaska on the Kahlitna glacier during an ascent of Denali and later became friends in Antarctica when we all worked on Vinson. Todd is a great partner. His quiet humble character is refreshing to be around. He doesn’t talk things up much but then takes the pitches that others don’t want to. We rack up with little conversation. The gangster rap that he religiously listens to on the way to the rocks contrasts his demeanor.

Todd floated the first pitch which oddly began by climbing a tree for 20ft. The climbing was steep and not terribly positive, though the movement was easy to unlock. The wall's steepness and hanging belays try to grind you down. Small roofs and exposed cruxes of 10b and c kept each pitch going. The momentum of our climbing and the partnership gained on every pitch. We had linked too many pitches and shortened the route into a 6-pitch route by climbing longer pitches. We were left standing on the summit out of rock to climb and were almost disappointed we had made it to the summit so fast. It was good to be back at Red Rocks.

Some of my favorite routes climbed this season:

Fox 5.10c****
Unimpeachable Groping II 5.10c **
Triassic Sands II 5.10b ***
Wholesome fullback 5.10a ***
The Warrior III 5.10d (first 4) ***
Purblind Pillar III 5.7 *
Epinephrine V 5.9*****
Bird Hunters Buttress III 5.9*
Mushroom People 5.10c**
Out of Control 5.10c***
Community Pillar III 5.9**
Dark Shadows 5.8****
Bird Land 5.8**
Sour Mash III 5.10b *****
Crimson Chrysalis III 5.8****
Eagle Dance IV 5.10c****
Dream of Wild Turkeys IV 5.10****

Black Velvet Canyon. This wall holds many Red Rock classics like Dream of Wild Turkeys IV 5.10****, Sour Mash III 5.10b *****,Epinephrine V 5.9***** The list is long. This would become my favorite place to climb this October.

SOCIAL WAVE ONE

The next day Todd and I teamed up with co-guides Jonathan Spitzer (AKA The Bigspitz) and Andy Rich. Todd and Andy are down getting ready for their AMAG rock guide exam and John and I are just climbing. Groups of climbers who have similar interest pal around together like a band, each member having a different strengths. On top of that you have to enjoy each other’s company. John, Todd, and I share campsite 12, Andy next door. Every morning we woke up just before dawn to avoid the sun turning the tents into a convection oven. Todd was the other coffee junkie so we could count on one another to make it. Todd was the elder. We would all make decisions together, but Todd’s word usually stood. We referred to him as the Todd Father. This resembled the name I gave him when the two of us worked in Antarctica. After summating Mt. Vinson in 2008, Todd performed the marriage of AAI lead guide Vern Tahas and Vern’s girlfriend on the summit of Mt. Vinson. Todd pronounced the bond and I pronounced Todd “the Reverend”. Todd and Andy had a good history. It was easy to see Todd’s respect for him as a climbing partner, co-worker, and friend. Andy is what we call solid. Even that is an understatement. Todd, John, and I had the humbling experience a few times watching Andy from the belay climb the crux pitch while laughing and hooting, then we all grunted up behind him. (Todd I bet you're mumbling under your breath..."I didn't do much grunting.." . True. But Andy climbs like a cat, we climb like football players by comparison).

The four of us rolled out to Black Velvet Canyon for some cragging. John 28 and myself 30 teamed up while the two "old boys" Todd and Andy made plans for a whipfest on Our Father a 3 pitch 5.10d. John and I climbed the classic Triassic Sands a 4-pitch 5.10c finger and hand crack and linked it up with Wholesome Fullback a two pitch 5.10a (which is much harder than any pitch on TS). This is a classic AMGA exam problem and it made for good practice. That day was my transition back into Red Rocks crack climbing. I led all the pitches. I also got five cams stuck. Jonathan was more than patient with me. On occasion, we used water to wet the sandstone in contact with the cam lobes which puts the calcium carbonate matrix of the sandstone into solution and makes it slippery. A technique often used by climbers in sandstone providing a good chance of getting the welded cam out. When found without water on route the climber resorts to spitting or even urinating on the piece. Desperate measures for desperate times.

Willie Benegas follows pitch 3 on Bird Hunters Buttress III 5.9* on the Rainbow Wall.~ Photo Mark Allen

SOCIAL WAVE TWO

The motivations of climbers rarely stay unanimous in a group. This creates an swapping of partnerships in small groups of climbers. Eventually, you all will have had a turn with one another and you will go with whom ever is matching your wavelength for the current moment. My second main partnership would be with Willie Benegas. I can’t begin to say enough about him. He is a very accomplished alpinist, sponsored climber, and renowned guide. He and his twin brother Damian cut their teeth in Patagonia Argentina. The two became prolific climbers through their unique partnership. The North Face picked up the dynamic duo and now sends them all over the world on test piece adventures. All of this made perfect sense to me during our climb on the Red Rock super classic Epinephrine a grade V 5.9.

Willie Climbs pitch 4 of the Epi Chinmeys with fantastic speed. I was impressed by his confidence and form. This was still within the first 45min of climbing ~Photo Mark Allen

His fitness was hinted to me when we started running to the base of the climb from the car. He was already a very different partner from my two previous. While running up the wash and pulling over a boulder amazingly we were still able to have a conversation about the ins and outs of his current adventurous love life. We get to the base in 15min on an approach that always has taken me 25. No moment was wasted. We ate and simultaneously racked up. Willie was climbing in no more than 3 minutes after arriving at the base of the 1500ft rock climb. We climbed it in two blocks. Willie took all pitches to the ledge atop of the chimneys (1-5) and I took all the pitches leading off the ledge to the top (6-13). Willie climbed like he had jet packs on. Sometimes I couldn’t pay rope out fast enough when he was on easy ground. We climbed 5
pitches in 1 hr 15min. It was now my lead.

Willie seconding Pitch 7 on Epinephrine. My favorite pitch of the whole climb. Steep finger crack that locks your fingers into place. The climbing was steep and fast~ Photo Mark Allen

I was concerned that during my blocks the momentum would brake down, though I found myself in a zone and was able to climb fast. The way the cracks and holds unfolded felt secure, comfortable, and familiar. This was my type of climbing and I had lead these pitches before. We flew up steep and slightly kicked back featured finger and hand cracks. My leads still did not quite have the same snappy clip as Willie’s did because I was placing about 200% more gear, which still was not a lot. We broke down the system and climbed the last 400ft in simul-climbing. We summiting in 3hrs and 40min. We were really excited about our achievement.

The two of us on the Summit of Whiskey Peak after climbing the Epinephrine in 3hrs 40min. We topped out at Noon and went to the casino for lunch. This was a very cool day. ~self Photo

Willie taught me a lot during our short day out. Mostly he showed me a new potential. If you want to go-fast, go fast all the time. It was incredible to watch him work, be fast, and remain calm. Small time saving tricks were always used if one could. Every trick saved time like gaining points. It felt like we received these points back in energy. I have never climbed so much rock and not felt tired. He also reinforced the need for a high level of fitness. His ability to not fatigue, later recover, and climb with equal intensity the next day were unparalleled. He is alarmingly swift on 2nd and 3rd class terrain. I often had to slow down so I didn’t hurt myself during our descent. He crushed me and once again I found myself running on the tail to the car. This was my favorite day at Red Rocks

The following day Willie would asked me for an equally long day. I was feeling a bit torn, since I was neglecting my other travel companions from IMG and feeling the need to train for my AMGA exam coming up. It was hard to not give in to the offer. Willie sensed my predicament. He took the high road. "No problem, I think I will solo something tomorrow?".."I think I will solo Epinephrine!" And that is exactly what he did. By trimming the fat of a partner, he shaved 1 hr 4o min off his day. It was very good to get his phone message after he got back to the car and hear his excitement. Now you know what I am speaking of when I said that "All of this made perfect sense to me.." with regards to his ability.

SOCIAL WAVE THREE

My co-workers Max Bunce, Eric Gullickson, and Dan Otter came down for an extended rock trip. I had worked with all summer on Mt. Rainer. It was good to see them in a totally opposite environments. After we got them acclimated on a few route these young bucks were throwing themselves out of the nest. They chose routes at were testing their limits and skills and every time they went out they got 200% better. It wasn’t a smooth ride for them. After two weeks they finally ticked off a test piece route and got back to camp before dark. We were all stoked for them.

Mark Allen and Eric Gullickson on top of Community Pillar 5.9 III in Red Rocks, NV~ Photo Mark Allen

My brother Jay and his climbing partner Chris Daymartin flew down for four days. They too are in the early stages of efficient climbing. Jay, is one of the most supportive people I have in my life and it’s always cool to have him join me for segments of my adventures. This was my first time around Chris. I’m glad my brother has him as a climber partner. I love taking Jay out because he is always so enthusiastic. Every climb is the best climb he has ever done. Its fun to be around him and his partner because they have gained some good skills in the past two years through trails, the best way to learn why we do things. I was glad to take them to places they wouldn’t normally go.

Jay Allen and Chris Daymartin Hang at belay 8 of Crimson Chrysalis III 5.8****. We climbed the dividing the pitches between the three of us. I think it was huge hightlight of their trip.~Photo Mark Allen

I see these friends being part of a similar social wave to me. I had similar climbing relationships with them. They are all friends to good friends. We are a closer knit. The people that know you best, the good and the bad. I also see them going through much of the same steps I went through not so long ago with my climbing. I took this as a good opportunity to give them some of what I have learned and not taking the long way like I did. In return, I was able practice my guiding techniques that I was being tested on by the AMGA in the weeks to come. Even though is was not test-piece climbing for me, it was some of the most enjoyable. I learned something every climb and proves to me again that there are many levels of climbing to appreciate. Comradship and a good partnership are two of the most important.

Jay Allen climbing Neon Sunset 5.8*** at one of the many sport climbing areas at Red Rocks. This was a day that we all took turns falling on lead to improve our head space. Jay's climbing improved ten fold after he took several lead falls. ~Photo Mark Allen

CAMPING IN AFGHANISTAN

The climbers jokingly refer to the campsite as Afghanistan. The location of the BLM campsite is less than desirable. Climbers come back from long day, to cook in the open desert on cement slabs and metal tables exposed to the wind and sun. The wind picks up sand and anything not heavy enough to overcome its force make a long list that include full beer bottles, camp chairs, and tents. It is not uncommon to see an unseasoned car camper come back and find their tent 10 sites over in a cactus or still in motion like nylon tumble weed. Just over the hill to the east, less than a ½ a mile away, the LVPD has a private shooting range. Many officers hit the range before heading to work and several times we were awakened to the sound of a semi-automatic weapon unloading a monster clip. To top it off the camp managers rule the place with martial law. Armed federal law enforcers are often tending to the trouble makers who are escorted by the senior citizen couple who drive the camp host golf cart complete with “W” stickers. One can only stay for 14 days. My friend was once escorted off the premises by a federal lawman after 15 days with the same methods used in domestic violence scenes from COPS. The transient climber planning to stay longer adapts several techniques to effectively disappear and yet still reside in the campsite. We call this action “going dark”.

Tactics On “Going Dark”
1. The volunteer camp host records your stay via license plate. By storing an available vehicle in a Casino parking garage allows you to swap cars around when needing more days.
3. It is good to delegate a camp host liaison that only deals with host during the span of current vehicle on the pay stub. By association it appears your stay is shorter that it is.
3. Taking the rain fly off the tent making it appear like a new resident
4. Switching camp sites with new swapped cars and tents
5. Hair cuts
6. Fake mustaches
7. Fake accents

All of these techniques have proven to be effective. This situation provides for much entertainment during your stay. A long stay here is a testament to how much we enjoy the climbing. I also see it as a blessing. This will never be camp 4 of Yosemite but Red Rocks will never have the crowds that are an epidemic in the Valley. It will never have the nostalgia either.

South Fork of Pine Creek Canyon. ~Photo Mark Allen

ABOUT THE CONSERVATION AREA

Red Rock Canyon was designated as Nevada's first National Conservation Area located 17 miles west of the Las Vegas Strip on Charleston Boulevard/State Route 159. The area is 195,819 acres and is visited by thousands of climbers each year. In marked contrast to a town focused on entertainment, bling-bling, and gaming, Red Rock Canyon offers hundreds sport climbs, moderate multi-pitch rock climbs, and long Alpine routes. "Alpine Routes" you ask? Absolutely. The nature of the red rock terrain is such that it yields climbing that requires the skills of an alpine rock climber. Tall faces and towers, interesting approaches, adventure climbing, and complicated descents evoke many of the same strategies required to climb in places like Washington Pass in the North Cascades or the High Sierra in California.

Mt. Wilson, the largest massif in the Spring Mountains. This is home to the longest routes at Red Rock~ Photo Mark Allen

RED ROCK GEOLOGY.

600 million years ago, the area later to be Red Rock, was part of a deep ocean basin. This captured many marine fossils making a huge deposit of limestone. By around 180 million years ago the terrestrial basin area east and South of the Sierra Volcanic chain in California had become part of a massive desert with shifting red sands and huge dune fields. Visitors today can see evidence of the lithophytes dunes preserved in the sandstone as a crosscutting sweep. After the sand was deposited more sand would be deposited on top of the pervious layer by yet another migrating sand dune. This system was repeated depositing thousands of feet of sand. The weight of the sand combined with minerals in the ground water would bond the sand with two types of matrix, or glue, Calcium Carbonate making the sandstone appear tan and iron oxide Hematite making the sandstone have a rusted look...hence the name Red Rocks.

Beginning approximately 65 million years ago, during a phase of the Larimide Orogeny, famous for shaping most of Idaho and Western Montana, the earths crust also was tectonically active this area. A large system of thrust faults extending south and as far north as Canada developed. Thrust faults result in some rather unusual effects. This particular thrust fault created one of the most interesting features of Red Rock Canyon, the Keystone Thrust. Here older layers 600 million y/o Limestone with seashells and extinct corals were tectonically thrust over younger layers of 180 million y/o Red Quartz Sandstone. This amazing contrast of not only age but is also visually striking. This appears as a line shooting across the Spring Mountains between the gray and red stone.

This area was tectonically uplifted to be 2000ft-3000 above sea level. As always when terrain is above see level it gets carved down by water shed. Ephemeral streams and washes have cut deep canyons and faces in the rock making the perfect venue for rock climbers such as ourselves to test our skills.

FIRST NATIONS PEOPLE
More recently, the ancient Anasazi left their mark on some of the rock faces in the form of petroglyphs. Unfortunately due to vandalism, many of the Petroglyph areas are unmarked and their locations are kept secret.

WA PASS: LE PETIT CHEVAL: Paul Revere

2008-10-23T16:15:00.003-07:00

WA PASS: S.E.W.S; Southern Man

2008-10-23T16:10:00.000-07:00

WA PASS: S.E.W.S; East Complete

2008-10-23T16:06:00.003-07:00

WA PASS: S.E.W.S; Mojo Rising

2008-10-23T16:03:00.000-07:00

WASHINGTON: First Complete Traverse of the Silverstar Massif VI 5.9+

2008-10-23T14:42:00.000-07:00

First Ascent: Mark Allen and Mike Layton 8/24-8/26 2005. VI 5.9+

Post by Mike Layton

Arial Photo of the East ridge of Silverstar to the Summit. Our hearts sank the first time we beheld its true size. ~Photo John Scurlock

Mark and I finally completed a dream of ours we’ve talked about, but never found the time between the two of us for the past three years It’s gonna be hard to write this up since my memory is terrible and I don’t really know how to begin. I guess I’ll start from the beginning...

Day One: East Ridge of Silverstar V 5.9+

We had 4am wake up at Mark’s unibomber cabin in Mazama, downed some eggs and coffee, shuttled a bike to Silverstar creek and dove the shaggin wagon to the Cedar Creek trailhead. It was pitch black out Mark realized when his petzel “weaka” barely illuminated his shoes as he tied them. It was calm and the stars were blazing. The Northern Lights pulsed across the night sky. Truly spectacular start to a long long trip.

There’s a horse trail that leaves the Cedar Creek trail about 100 yards from the start and is basically a wooded spur off the east ridge of Silverstar. We took the steep trail about 4 miles of uphill grind wondering the whole time, “where the hell does the east ridge of Silverstar start?”

Our hearts sank for the 1st of many many many times when we fist saw the beast, the East Ridge of Silverstar, put up by Childs in the early 90's. It’s only seen a handful of ascents and we had zero beta. Sweet. The climbing started TWO MILES from the summit of Silverstar along an exposed ridge with lots of scrambling and climbing. Our first two raps occurred after about an hour of climbing. We could see the ridge lead up steeply to junction of ridges that block our view. The summit must be just behind

Nope, our hearts sank again after we pulled off some really spooky exposed soloing when we saw the summit another full mile away up an enormously long and confusing ridge with an unbelievable amount of sub peaks and high points. Crap, our noon summit estimate is out the friggin window

Lots and lots of soloing up the ridge (up to 5.6) brought us to the base of the Silver Horn. We tried a new route up the east ridge, but we kept blanking out in 5.10 land in tennis shoes and a long way to go still. More raps and some traversing (below Berdinka/Thibaults route on the middle ledge section...looks great ) brought Mark and I to a steep chimney system that we soloed using full stemming between walls. Very exciting. We topped out on the Silver Horn, rapped back onto the ridge and wondered where in the hell folks were going on this ridge. All our raps were new ones, so we assumed that the people who were doing the regular E.ridge route avoided the silver horn. Who knows? Route finding is full on.

Hours later of continuous climbing (to 5.9+), rapping, mind blowing exposure, dead ends, heart sinking moments of “crap, we gotta find a way through this ), and making sure we stuck to the ridge to keep a clean line (unsure where reg e.ridge goes) we reached the summit. We had one hell of a time getting around huge gendarmes that block passage on the entire width of the ridge (a major problem on this climb) and there were lots more sub summits than we could have possible anticipated. Also there was fresh snow and frozen moss to keep us on our toes for when we were on the north side of the ridge.

Wasting no time (we took zero breaks during the climb on all 3 days) we dropped down to the saddle below the main summit. 11 hours of climbing, 13.5 hours from the car. The way we went on the east ridge was a grade V 5.9+. Full on climbing all day long. Time to bivy. We melted snow and filled our long dry bottles. It got down to 28 degree that night with a brisk wind, so our bivy pads of 8mm rope didn’t make too comfortable of a sleep. Luckily the whiskey I snuck in my pack helped. Then I burned my sleeping bag on the stove and had somehow lost my tape, so I had to ridge a down tourniquet with some perlon. Feathers float about as we slept on and off.

The Old Woman Tower on the Left and the Wine Spire group center and the Burgundy Col Bivi on the right. ~Photo John Scurlock

DAY TWO: West Peak Silverstar-Old Woman-All the Wine Spires V 5.9+

It took a huge amount of willpower to get out of “bed” as it was still in the high twenties when we got going. Mark chugged his water the night before while I hoarded mine. I started to make some more water when I got about 8 ounces before the stove quite. Silence. No more fuel. Mark shoved his water bladder full of snow hoping it would melt against his back during the day. It actually worked

The “easy” west peak of Silverstar took way longer than we expected and we had to rap a few times b/c our crampon less tennis shoes didn’t really want to stick to the steep frozen dirt snow. The frozen dirt snow proved a constant pain in the ass. Then getting to the Old Women took longer than we thought. But when we got there and peered down the abyss 400 feet straight down to dizzying and impossible looking array of wine spires our hearts really sank. Both of us wanted to quit. Go home. Bail. Screw this, we’re gonna die. But we rapped off anyway on our nth rap we had to set up with the 50 feet of dwindling tat I brought.

We traversed around to the East Face of Chablis and did the Beckey route. Great fun. 2 pitches, some runout steep face climbing, and some simul climbing to the wildly exposed summit. We looked across to Pernod spire. How the hell are we gonna get up this? The east was sheer, the west was a huge ridge we’d have to rap forever to get to, and the South face rose impossibly up from the col. But the s.face did have cracks. I gulped and told Mark I’d give it a go.

I climbed extremely timidly up the vertical wall wondering at every moment if the cracks would continue and if I fell would my gear hold. I pulled the roof and ran outta gear. Mark came up and finished the pitch up a great handcrack/layback. We had no idea it had been climbed before. (This face was visited by Cliff Light and Co.)

More rapping, downclimbing, and climbing up a horrible horrible chimney/gully system took Mark and I to the North Face of Chianti Spire. My lead. This pitch was hands down the scariest, loosest, worse, most run-out piece of s*%!t pitch I’ve ever climbed. The rock was finnish before you go insane scary. Mark called it “a life or death” lead. I was glad to be done. More rapping.

One more to go Mark did a terrifying pitch up the south face of Burgundy from the notch. An exposed fingertip traverse with 3 foot tall pedestals that were so loose you HAD to only push down with your feet. Unfortunalty those were the only footholds, and I stepped on the 1st one the wrong way and it started to totter over and fall, so I hooked it with my toes and tipped it back into place so I could 2nd the traverse. Two more pitches took us to the top. I forgot what Mark called this "new" route but it was also 5.9+.

Four double rope raps and we were at Burgundy Col. 11.5 hours of climbing. Out of water once more. Mark and I were excited to be done and go home. Mark said he only had two days because he had to work the next day. But then Mark said something that changed everything “Yeah, I gotta work Saturday morning, tomorrow. Bummer” To which I replied, “Mark, today is Thursday” We instantly had another day. There was still more to climb We took stock of our food situation...we had enough for a small dinner of snacks, and a couple bars for the next day. No water though. We bombed down burgundy col east toward Chianti and found trickles in the old glacier ice. We had to finnish the Whisky. It was the only canister small enough to collect our water. With full bottles we slogged back to the col and had another minimal bivy and slight buzz. It was great

Day Three Vasiliki Ridge IV 5.9+

Vasiliki Tower starts it right off from Burgundy Col. We encountered some unbelievable s%!*y rock on this climb (from the south east ridge) and I had yet another hate filled vomit inspiring I’m gonna fucking die lead. My cams for the 1st part were probably more dangerous in the rock than running it out since when the inevitable ripped out of the rock if I fell, the block that would come down would kill Mark. Good times. Then I began gardening. All Mark saw was a waterfall of dirt pour down 75 feet up. He had the cam I needed in the belay too, so I doubled up in the same spot and went for it. Thank god it went too. Yet another 5.9+

The Acropils, Charon and Ares tower went down way easier than we thought and our hearts almost didn’t sink when we headed for the “final bit,” Juno-Jupiter tower. Jupiter was the before Juno and an exposed but easy crack took us to the top. Then our hearts sank. It was impossible to get to Juno tower. We tried a lot of craziness to make things go over the past three days, and this wouldn’t go. We had to do lots more rapping and very scary down climbing to the West. Long ribs shot down boarded by deep gullies of marginal rock and we climbed up rapped down them looking for a way up. By the time we found a way up we were past Juno. We were way outta water and food. Getting up the remaining pitches horrid rock seemed so forced and contrived. So we got back on the ridge and finished the traverse . 8 hours of climbing on day 3. Hunger was extreme by the decent, and somehow we found the energy to run the last section (the trail to the car) of the Silverstar creek decent. Mark got the privilege of biking to the car (made it back in less than ½ hour ) which I wanted b/c I get bored sitting and waiting.

All told we did 24 high points/summits and 28 rappels, took 3 full days of climbing, and did 4 miles of rock climbing (not including the approach or descent). It was a major traverse of the longest unbroken section of ridge in Washington Pass, thus the name “The Washington Pass Traverse” but it never stuck and the community calls it the "Silverstar Traverse". We feel confident in our grade 6 rating, and our 5.9+ is a conservative estimate of the pitches of “not quite 5.10 . We needed two ropes and about 100 feet of tat. God only knows how many "pitches" We stuck to the ridge crest as much as possible, dropping off the ridge only when absolutely necessary...sometimes sticking to the ridge too much We had a full rack up to a 3 cam and emptied the rack on several pitches. Future parties can add to this traverse by climbing the E.ridge of the silverhorn, and figuring a way up Juno to the south. We weren’t very sad about not tagging juno, 1/24 of the climb and ten feet from the summit we were on anyhow...not such a big deal for us. We are very happy about the whole thing and will be happy to provide beta, or get beta from past ascensionists of some of the more obscure peaks and routes we climbed. And before you (you know who you are) start bitching and wining and thinking of little things to say to call our bluff, go climb it yourself. Mark and I tried doing this climb in the best style possible, no Caches, carrying everything, no topos execpt for chianti and chablis. We made it up as we went along.

Hat’s off to you if you read the whole thing. That’s a feat in itself.

-Mike Layton

2008-10-22T20:53:00.001-07:00

WASHINGTON: First Ascent of SILVERSTAR MOUNTAIN West Face, Central Couloir

2008-10-22T20:49:00.000-07:00

Climb: SILVERSTAR MOUNTAIN West Face, Central Couloir

Date of Climb: 3/15/2005

Trip Report:
Washington Pass
SILVERSTAR MOUNTAIN

West Face, Central couloir
III, AI II M4

FA; March 15 2005: Mark Allen , Anne Keller

This week Anne Keller and I agreed to attempt an undescribed line that we had both noticed over the year. This classic alpine couloir splits the West Face of the 8,800ft Silver Star Mt. It struck me one Fall day all and I couldn’t wait for spring. Originally we both dreamt of harvesting it as a ski descent, but we noticed ice! I remarked on its directness and surprised by its steep and narrow appearance. The 1,900 ft long ribbon of steep snow and gully ice shoots the whole relief of the West Face and seamed to have uniform width cutting deep into the face. We began our day at 6:15am and regretfully left the snowshoes in he car. The morning started off with demoralizing post holing until we gained the bare trail. We final got to the base at 8:30am and noticed a flow of water ice marking the couloir entrance. The ice was not climbable so we scrambled easy rock and began to simul climb in perfect neve’ and smears of gully ice. The Snow was perfect. The walls became very high around us and the couloirs became slightly steeper as we progressed. We came to the first of two mixed cruxes. The A large bolder chock stone with steep ice smears poring off both sides of the rock’s interface with the main couloir walls. The left yielded rotten ice yet the right side went at a fun M4 for a sort pitch. Leading the pitch I was forced to ditch the pack to fit through the chock slot. The Couloir again narrowed and became slightly steeper and the conditions and climbing continued to improve with every step. Looking out to the Cascades the walls perfectly framed the Liberty bell group. We could look down the steep drainage and see the walls of the couloir cleave down the West Face for several hundred feet. Before we reached the summit ridge the second mixed crux would meet us with a second chock boulder. This crux is shorter at M3 and was climbed on the left up a small coulomb of ice. Anne stepped off the snow up the final 125ft of the line on easy rock and topped out on the flat slopes just a few hundred feet North of the West Peak. We celebrated our summit with a short alpine potlatch and began our decent down the Glacier to burgundy col and back to the Methow valley.

WASHINGTON: First Ascent of Silver Tooth, SW buttress: The Crown 5.9+ II+

2008-10-22T20:46:00.000-07:00

North Cascades, Washington Pass

Silver Tooth, SW buttress: The Crown 5.9+ II+
FA: Mark Allen, Doug Sredinsky August 6th 2004

On August 6th new line was explored on the western aspect of the Snag Tooth ridge belonging to the Siverstar Massif at Washington Pass. Doug Sredinsky and myself approached the ridge primarily via Burgundy col trail then contoured into the willow creek drainage to revisit a large undescribed satellite buttress. This feature is on the north aspect of the Snag Tooth ridge system and trends SW It was dubbed the Silver Tooth for its relation to the Snag Tooth ridge, close proximity to Silver Star, and its characteristic triangular white granite buttress. From the top a long crescent shaped ridge leads to the Snagtooth’s three final towers. The buttress reviled some exiting climbing on clean granite on a route climber’s right of the futures main cleave.
The first four pitches climb hand and finger cracks averaging 5.7-5.8 with some interesting sporty climbing at three distinct cruxes up to 5.9+. The first 650ft were climbed in three 200ft pitches and one short 50ft pitch to the top of the triangle (silver tooth). Doug and I saw fantastic views the jagged jawbone belonging the Snagtooth Ridge, Silver Star, Big Kangaroo and the Liberty Bell group. We changed gears to simul and climbed an amazing 1200ft long exposed mid-fifth class ridge over three independent towers for the remaining 600ft vertical. The route deposits you 100yds south off the West Buttress of Silver Star and allows for an exhilarating scree ski back down to the Burgundy Col trail and car. The Crown is 5.9+ 5 pitches was done car to car in a little over half a day. No pins, bolts or tat were required. A nice little quickie.

WASHINGTON: First Ascent of Burgundy Spire, North East Buttress Direct, FA Ultramega OK 5.10c/d (A0) or 5.11 III

2008-10-22T20:08:00.000-07:00

Burgundy Spire, North East Buttress Direct, Ultramega OK 5.10c/d (A0) or 5.11 III

July 24th, 2006

FA: Mark Allen, Tom Smith

Tom Smith and I spied a route up the Northeast aspect of the Burgundy Wine Spire during the second free ascent of the East Face, Action Potential, on July 22nd. The line caught my eye and I was able to carry it for several imaginary pitches on anastomozing crack systems in solid granite. On July 24th we left the North Cascades Highway at 7:30am after consuming jet fuel at the Mazama store and approached the base of the wall. We started up the first pitch of an independent line, 10ft right of Action Potential's Bugaboo pitches and shared the first belay. We trundled some good belayer-slayers and cast off into a chimney that was succeeded by an amazing right facing corner.

Tom Smith Racking up for the crux pitch 5 ~Photo Mark Allen

The system continued via hand and finger cracks as predicted by our previous scouting. Later the route unexpectedly forced us to explore an interesting weakness that loomed above. We stood on a ledge below an open book seam leading to an amazing double-roofed hand-to-first crack with changing corners. Lichen made it impossible to free climb. Tom aided the seam and freed the difficult roofs at 5.10c/d. As the second I was able to free the newly clean seam and concluded that it should be 5.11.

Tom Smith at hanging it out at belay top of crux pitch 5. Burgundy col bellow the airy stance. ~Photo Mark Allen

We continued to discover finger and hand crack systems made more exciting by great exposure and position to the galcier below. We followed the system with enthusiasm provoked by views of Vasaliki ridge and the Silver Star Glacier drainage.

Mark Allen on pitch 6. A 5.9+ finger crack and face climb for 60m. This is when we knew it would go! ~Photo Tom Smith

Tom led the amazing last spicy pitch and topped out on Burgundy's north shoulder joining the Original Route (Becky, Hane, Parrott, 1953) for a final pitch to the summit block at 8:30pm. I was amazed at the quality of another unclimbed Burgundy Face.

Mark Allen cleans the second to last pitch toping out the buttress on the North Shoulder of Burgundy Spire. The route now joins the Original Route (Becky, Hane, Parrott, 1953) for a final pitch to the summit block. This meant we did it!

This route retained high quality climbing at a consistent 5.8-5.9 rating with a stellar 5.11 crux; this is the most attactive line that Burgundy has to offer on any aspect to date. V*S*O*P* old boy! But we would not reap the rewards without a price. Upon our descent of the the North Face our rope hung up on two separate consecutive occasions forcing us to re-lead the descent and once via headlamp. After repeating the third rappell, falling rock core-shot one of the lines. Finally, at the Burgundy Col we reclined in our pile of rope, rested and exchanged a few words of celebration. During this reflection we were rewarded with the Aurora Borealis, which Tom had never seen, across the silhouetted North Cascades. At 1:00am, we returned to the Highway and to the cold Pabst Blue Ribbon chilling in the Early Winters Creek. The route was done car-to-car, free of tat or bolts. Two Lost Arrows were placed at the crux belay and one remains. Climbing at 5.11( 5.10c/d A0) III+ with seven pitches at 5.8, 5.9, 5.8, 5.11, 5.9+, 5.9, 5.8, the route was named Ultramega OK

Topo by Mark Allen

WA PASS: S.E.W.S; WEST COMPLETE

2008-10-22T19:56:00.000-07:00

WA PASS: WINE SPIRES; PAISANO PINNACLE; West Ridge

2008-10-22T19:46:00.001-07:00

WA PASS: BURGUNDY SPIRE; NE BUTTRESS, Ultramega OK

2008-10-22T19:38:00.000-07:00

First Ascent of the North Face of the "Cheval"

2008-10-17T17:32:00.000-07:00

LE PETIT CHEVAL Northwest Face Paul Revere II+ 5.9+
FA: Mark Allen, Ben Mitchell October 23, 2006

Trip Report: Mark Allen

It is hard to drive down the 20 without noticing it. As one travels over the pass it is staged in front of the Silverstar Massif and under the Shadow of the Liberty Bell Group. The three almost triplet flatiron features have caught the eye of many. The group form the three “Chevals” making the Western and Northwestern base of the Big Kangaroo Massif. Being the main paleoglacial valley these walls have over steepened and exposed solid granite for the taking. Little exploration has been done here. The faces have been subtly documented first in the Red Fred as the “Pale Horse Rock” and the “White Horse Rock” on the Washington Pass overview map
(p.292 ). The next time they are mentioned would be by Bryan Burdos North Cascades Rock guide showcasing the Black Horse Point Buttress. Burdo references the Chevals by calling them the “Buttress that faces the highway” in the Black horse figure. After reviewing the references it would seem that we have more names than features. I reckon that Black Horse Point Buttress and White Horse Rock to be the same feature. This is the North facing long lichen-black buttress in the Willow drainage (best seen from the approach to the Wine Spires on the Burgundy Creek trail) and white it is not. The Pale Horse Rock seems to be the right (southern most) and highest of the three Chevals. The 2000ft of 2nd and 3rd class approach to this feature extinguishes any desire to climb the grade II face. The central Cheval has a similar approach but looks to yield far better climbing. The left Cheval (northern most Cheval and southwest of the Black Horse) is the closest and has an approach that is quite tangible. The first time any of these features were climbed and named was not until Larry Goldie and Scott Johnston in June of 2004.
Their account mentioned driving to climb the East Buttress of SEWS and caught the Southern arete of this feature and turned the car around and sent it. They named the feature the Le Petit Cheval sticking to the horse theme and their route appropriately named Spontaneity Arete II+ 5.7. A farmed guide-route that has received several ascents and mixed reviews some love some maso manos. Exploratory and noteworthy for now climbers simply refer to these three-like features as the Chevals.

On October 22, 2006 Ben Mitchell and I would no longer drive past the Northwest face of the Le Petit Cheval. For years I was curious about its character. To be honest I am surprised nobody has ever bothered. So many times I have stared up at it. So many times I have just climbed something else just like everyone else. Its close proximity to 20 and its relatively short stature looked like a last good fall project for the closing short days.
Ben and I made it to the base in 1.5 hrs. Instead of parking at the Mile post 165 for Spontaneity Arete we chose the next northern pullout directly in front of the NW face. We drooped directly into the forest and headed across the creek to the drainage climbers left of the walls center. To say that it was chill would be a bold faced lie, but very do-able. 75% was rather quick and uneventful. The later 25% would have 3rd to 4th sections
covered in moss and needles. The green belay was helpful.
5th class bush whacking. Finally we made it to the landing just below the center of the face at 10:30am.

We both had an uneasy feeling. The face was not riddled with obvious cracks or fantastic weaknesses but rather crackless dihedral, impossible cracks to nowhere, or unfeatured slabs. Yet, the wall did have a main weakness looking like an easy 5th class scramble. Both freezing we settled on starting the wall simul climbing to gain better terrain. Pitch 1.After 200ft Ben established a belay on a good ledge with a tree. We had a few interesting options. We switched to pitching.

Pitch 2 I cast out trending right into a super fun hand to finger crack. I got to fingers and was getting schooled. I still had a rope in my pack …clipped it and pulled a stiff 5.9 finger crux on solid rock through a small tricky bulge and set up the belay at 70ft to deal with the pack.

Pitch 3 I told Ben that since my pitch was so short I would take the next pitch also. Now set up for success I left the belay with doubles and up a fun short dihedral. After gaining a small ledge I saw the remainder of the weakness to the near summit looking to be easy fifth class again. I climbed 15ft and passed twin hand cracks splitting the upper shield of the feature for the next 350ft. “Oh my…” I would have to be mad not to try. I stepped in and for the next 70ft would be pure 5.9 crack bliss. I would not say that I styled it. I had a lot on my mind. The cold, my pack, my pump, my last shitty piece, not having any gear that I needed to ease my mind in this sustained size. “Thank-God” jams finally! The pain was over and I could see a stance. I pounded a knife blade, set up my belay. Ben wondering what the hell is taking so long since my last report of chill 5th to the top. Dink, dink, dink, ping, ping, ping! His patients is admirable. Once Ben climbed the cracks himself he was happy with the new deviation that launched us into classic cracks. Ben reached my perch. He looked cold.

Pitch 4: I tried to take as much of the hard climbing to not sand bag him on his lead but it was stiff right off the anchor and definitely the routes crux. Ben launched into a hard 5.9+ lay-back off width and cruised into the rest of his relatively sustained pitch. Hand cracks, jugs, dihedrals, fingers…this 130ft pitch was full value and fantastic climbing. Ben did had an amazingly cool head and just hypnotically climbed it. At my belay I had time to admire the steepness that the wall took on. I had a fantastic view of the East faces of the Liberty Bell group and Tower. I knew now that the wall was going to fall to this ascent and I felt the pressure instantly release. Now my focus turned to fun. Ben was jazzed and got chatty once he reached the belay.

Pitch 5 It was time to jam now it was 3:30 and Finlay made high enough on the wall to be in the sun. Moral was getting much better. The climbing let up and I streacthed out the last 200ft of 5.6 crack and block climbing pulling a final 5.8 move before the lines end.

Ben came up and we celebrated and I was warm for the first time since leaving my house. Much rejoicing. We scramble to the summit and topped out at 4:30pm. 7 hours from the car. Knowing darkness at 6:30 we waisted little time and jammed down the Spontaneity Arete raps
and deviated into the gully for the down scramble after the 5th raps. Grabbed the fixed lines and
out. Car at 6:30 beer by 7.

It was the first time Ben and I have climbed together. We had a great time and look forward to it again. The line is alpine dirty and will not need much cleaning to be classically fun. The simul-climbing we did in the beginning could be potently avoided and replaced with a much classier crack pitch to the left. This would yield 4 really nice 5.9 pitches in a row taking a central line up the face. Adventure climbing is a constant theme in the approach and stays with you all day!

ROUTE INFO

Paul Revere II+ 5.9+ Pitches: 5 (5 new)
Pitch style: free
Date/Time: Oct 22, 2006: 8 ½ hrs total car-to-car
Trad anchors: one KB (still remains)
Rack: Cams: 0.3”-4”
Doubles sizes: 0.5-3”
Triples sizes: .75” and 1.0”
Nuts: Single set
A few with slings
1X 60M Rope

Paul Revere (January 1, 1735 – May 10, 1818) was an American silversmith and patriot in the American Revolution. Because he was immortalized after his death for his role as a messenger in the battles of Lexington and Concord, Revere's name and his "Midnight Ride" are well-known in the United States as a patriotic symbol. Revere later served as an officer in one of the most disastrous campaigns of the American Revolutionary War, a role for which he was later exonerated. After the war, he was early to recognize the potential for large-scale manufacturing of metal goods and is considered by some historians to be the prototype of the American industrialist. Later he would help write one of the Beasty Boys most renown tracks.

Twin Sisters Haute Route: North Cascades

2008-10-17T16:30:00.000-07:00

Twin Sister Haute Route, Grade V, 4th class, snow/ice 60 degree ascent, 45 degree ski descent. Possibly the first recorded ski traverse of the Twin Sister Range, North Cascade Mountains,
by Mark Allen, Greg Balco, Paul Kimbrough, and Chris Simmons. May 12, 13, and 14, 2006.

post by Chris Simmons

This trip was inspired by a previous climbing trip to the North Twin Sister Peak in February 2005. In the fall of 2005, I started to trace out a possible traverse route on topographical mapping software. During the 2006 winter, I found three other excellent skiers who were foolish enough to say yes; Paul, Greg, and Mark.

Mark and I met a month before the trip to look over the route and peer at a series of photos provided by John Scurlock. The route looked possible. The whole team met again in two weeks before the trip to look over the route, John’s photos, and discuss gear requirements.

We met Thursday night at my house to pack and make some final food purchases at the grocery store. Early Friday morning we cached Greg’s car at the end of the road for the North and South Twin Sister Peak climbs, and my girlfriend dropped us off at the other end near Hamilton. The access information is described below.

Friday, 12 May 2006, Day One:
We didn’t start where we originally intended and we needed to get a view of the range to get our bearings. Low clouds and snow showers kept us guessing until a lucky break in the weather while crossing an “artificial alpine zone” provided us with the view we needed. An hour and a half of skinning gained us the spine of the range immediately below the southernmost named summit, Step Sister Peak. We followed the ridge north, requiring a final boot pack to the summit, earning our first descent of the trip, the North Face of Last Sister Peak. We crossed the ridge to the east again and traversed the glacier on the east aspect of Nancy Peak, crossed a cleaver nick-named the Southern Divide and gained the glacier below the east aspect of Barbara Peak, which we provisionally named the Ripple Glacier. We climbed and skied in a zigzag pattern across the Ripple and Trisolace Glaciers until we reached the Saddle Slabs and Twin Crests where we made camp for the night.

Saturday, 13 May 2006, Day Two:
We got an early start and skied down the eastern slopes of Twin Crests and the Twin Crests Glacier before climbing back up to camp, shouldering our packs, and crossing the Saddle to the west side of the range. We dropped packs again in the bowl underneath the South Face of Little Sister Peak where Mark skied the proudest line of the trip, climbing and descending up the South Face Couloir. We hiked up to the summit ridge of Cinderella and skied the North Face, continuing down the Greater Green Creek Glacier before heading back up to the Little Sister-Cinderella Col and continuing north along the west side of the range linking together the little glaciers and cirques on the west slopes of Little Sister, Hayden, and Skookum Peaks, before finally hitting the ridge wall blocking our access to the Sisters Glacier at 4pm.

This proved to be the crux of the trip. Difficult 4th class and steep snow with heavy packs and skis required us to rope up. We also discovered our first mistake – Mark’s 9mm rope turned out to be 20 meters long, not matching up well with Greg’s 8mm 30-meter rando line. With only one thin rack for both teams, I lead the first short pitch without a pack, belayed everyone up, and then rapped down and re-climbed the pitch with my pack on a top rope while Mark lead a second shorter 20 meter pitch to the snowfield. Since Mark and Paul had the shorter rope, they lead the way as we simul-climbed the following 100+ meters of steep snow to the ridge top. We gained the ridge with perhaps a half-hour of light left.

John’s photos and the map show the Sisters Glacier clearly reaching the ridge top at the lowest notch immediately south of South Twin Sister. Instead we were looking down at 100 meters of rappelling. The ridge terrain was protected by numerous gendarmes, so we opted to rap off the ridge top where we were freezing in the wind, and finding our way down. We had to pull head-lamps out after the first 20 meter rappel to a horn. From there, we tied the two ropes together for a single strand, 40 meter rappel, which Mark down-climbed. Being his idea, and not realizing I was waiting for him to offer “Rock-Paper-Scissors”, he took my silence as refusal and offered to do it himself. Thank God. We were all pretty hammered at this point, and I was not happy.

Another single strand, 50 meter rappel over a blank, verglassed rock wall reached the glacier. We left the rope to collect the next day and stumbled down to the flats of the glacier finally setting up camp at 2:30am. When we finished dinner and hot drinks, we were all nodding off over our bowls and the sky was beginning to brighten.

Sunday, 14 May 2006, Day Three:
We were forced up at 9:30am by the bright light and heat of the day. A hard discussion over breakfast reached an agreement to forego an attempt to retrieve the ropes. As it turns out, the 8mm rappel line was rubbing over two rock edges, and neither Mark nor I were willing to risk jugging back up the line with a Tibloc and Reverso. We looked around to see if there was an easier way to climb up and traverse over using the hanging end of the 9mm strand to belay with, but saw nothing. The rope is still there and both of us expect to return later this year to retrieve it.

At 11pm we skinned and climbed up to the notch we had hoped to reach the day before and discovered why we had missed it. A full 40 meter pitch of 5th class chimney would have been required to reach the notch from the west side. This would not be possible for this team or with our packs. Our curiosity satisfied, we skied a couple of laps on the Sisters Glacier before descending below the North Ridge of South Twin Sister Peak and traversed across the Sisters Glacier to the North Ridge of North Twin. Once again, our intended notch looked good from our side on the east, but was cliffed out on the west. We continued lower down the ridge to the next notch which did prove passable. However, we ended up 1000’ below our intended route and a final skin gained us the bench below the North Face of North Twin Sister. A final descent through mashed-potato snow lead to a clear cut and road beneath the West Ridge where we were forced to take our skis off at 3800 feet. The final 5 miles of hiking in our boots finally ended when we crossed the welded steel of the Middle Fork Nooksack Bridge, and walked over to Greg’s car. It was over.

Conclusions and Lessons Learned:
There are two ways to access the Sisters Glacier which must be reached in order to finish the traverse. We don’t recommend following our route over Mirage Peak. The first possible route is to cross the Greater Green Creek Glacier to the east of Hayden and Skookum Peaks and climb a steep snow couloir that leads directly to the Sisters Glacier. Another possibility is to climb the South Face of South Twin Sister and descend the North Face.

A 60m rope would be ideal. Two 60 meter ropes are necessary if you choose to follow our line.
A speed traverse would probably work best from North to South, because one could descend the Sisters Glacier Couloir to the Green Creek Glacier instead.
We originally had hoped to climb and ski the North Face of South Twin and then ascend the South Gully of North Twin to ski the North Face. Saturday’s climbing over the ridge, our lack of sleep, and the incredible heat that hit us on Sunday put a stop to any of our ideas.

We gave a number of provisional names to a number of features to make conversations easier:
Nancy Glacier – located in the east bowl of Nancy Peak
Southern Divide – the cleaver that forms where the NE Ridge of Nancy and the SE Ridge of Barbara Peaks merge and separate the Nancy and Ripple Glaciers
Ripple Glacier – located in the east bowl of Barbara Peak
Trisolace Glacier – located in the three basins NE of Trisolace Peak
Twin Crests Basin – located NE of the Twin Crests and Saddle Slabs
Little Sister Cirque – located in the west bowl of Little Sister Peak
Hayden Cirque – located in the west bowl of Hayden Peak
Moraine Cirque – located in the north bowl of Skookum Peak
Northern Divide – the great headwall between Skookum and South Twin Sister that separate the Green Creek and Sister Glaciers
Mirage Peak – the 200-foot tall summit of the South Ridge of South Twin, which we climbed up and over at its highest point
Twin Glacier – located in the bowl on the west side of the ridge separating the North and South Twins
North Twin Glacier – located in the basin NE of North Twin

We traveled 30 hours in three days, covered 21 miles, gained 12,000 feet, descended 14,000 feet, skied every single permanent snowfield/ice field/glacier except for the Twin Glacier according to the USGS topo and made significant descents from the North Faces of Last Sister, South Twin Crest, and Cinderella; and the South Face of Little Sister.

Gear:
Typical backcountry ski and avalanche equipment. Each member carried a transceiver, shovel and probe. Greg was on tele-gear.
Ski crampons
1 Megamid tent
2 pocket rocket stoves with four canisters, two pots, and one tea pot
ice hammer
1 picket
rack: 6 knifeblades, stoppers #4-#10, #0.75-#1-#2 cams, #10 hex, 2 ice screws, 4 shoulder length slings with biners, two double length slings with biners
ropes: 9mm, 20 meters & 8mm, 30 meters
Each: helmet, harness, crampons, ice axe, belay device, three locking carabiners, one cordellete

Approach:
The Upper South Fork of the Nooksack River is closed by the Forest Service as Critical Elk Habitat from 1 November to 1 July. This effectively eliminates accessing the ridge from Baker Lake. The logging services follow suit on their private land upstream from Hadley Creek.
I convinced the Forester at Sierra Cascade Industries that this trip was part of my studies in Adventure Recreation, contributing directly to my degree and my professor vouched for my academics. We received permission to be dropped off via the roads up Hadley Creek, provided that we were careful around and didn’t interfere with logging operations that were in progress. Crown Pacific sold their land holdings to three different logging companies and they have an agreement to minimize non-business access as much as possible to minimize interference. I don’t expect to get this permission again.
Next time I plan to use our back-up plan, which is to drive as close as possible to the summit of Mount Josephine, hike up and over, drop down to the South Fork and climb back out to Bear Lake. This route is only 3.8 miles as the crow flies, but 9.5 miles of logging roads. The good news is that if you wait for the snow line to be at or below 2000 feet, this could be accomplished entirely on skis. Otherwise, bring a pair of shoes.

Special Thanks To:
Our friends and families who encouraged us, wished us luck, and thought about us while we were out there
John Scurlock for the aerial photography
Sierra Cascade Industries for access into the South Fork Nooksack valley.
Annie at WWU’s Huxley Map Library for the time and hard work making my taped together creation, digitizing it, and reprinting it into a great map.
Patsy for the driving and drop-off.

I’ve tried to keep this as factually as possible. The crazy and funny stories that come with this trip should be heard with a beer.

Chris Simmons