Otto

Climb: Mt. Shuksan-Price Glacier Date of Climb: 6/11/2006 Trip Report: I’d wanted to go to the Price Glacier on Mt. Shuksan for several years now, so when Jake Larson suggested it I knew this was the time for it. Our partner Jim Daubert was also highly motivated and had done the descent route recently, so we had a fully prepared and charged group. The weather the weekend of June 10-11 was predicted to be unpredictable, and we got to fully appreciate the variety implied by “on shore flow”. With a forecast of 20% chance of precipitation, we got rain, hard hail, snow, thunder and lightning, around 20% of the time. Fortunately, it held off for the technical portions of the climb, like climbing out of the bags and packing up in the morning. First came the creek crossing at the trailhead: And the infamous log crossing: Price Lake starting to melt out: Bill and Jake ascending the moraine in the rain: Peekaboo views of the route: There’s Nooksack Tower on the left. Jake and I had approached it last month and sussed out the trail, but the weather was much worse: We carved out an 8 foot square platform for a tarp, with the weather clearing off: The route goes up and right, to the snow saddle above the large rock hump in the foreground, then up and across the glacier to the big schrund: A good evening: An alpine start: From up on the snow saddle, dawn light: Crossing the glacier, Jake sensing victory: Features of the glacier. Probably the best shot of the worrisome schrund problem coming up; it is at the left end of the rock prow in the center: The schrund which we passed on the rock on the right: Surface snow kept shooting out of this tube, every few minutes, as we crouched off to the side waiting to step across a slot onto the rock: Otto starting up the rock pitch: A rather dicey step across here with a bulge forcing one’s pack out: Rambling up the summit pyramid: From the summit, there’s Mt. Baker: Thunderhead: What a good glacier climb. It seemed reasonable at all times, although the roar of the surface snow pouring out the chute at the top was disconcerting. About the possibility of ice fall on the glacier, Jake says, “While deserving of respect, I didn't think the route was an objective danger "horror show" as it is sometimes portrayed, at least in the conditions we did it in. Personally, I found the objective danger on the summit pyramid far outstripped those encountered on the Price...” Thanks Jim and Jake, for another grand adventure.

Absinthe of Mallett is a particularly good climb. Six years ago the protection was good, with no worries about bad bolts or other mankiness.

I know this event is over, but what does PDX stand for?

Nice picture. Yes, that was great, down stemming chimneys with the pack hanging off the harness. There were rappel anchors set up for this stuff, but chucK made a game of downclimbing them instead. He made all but one, a real drop-off. The one in the picture was easy, with all those beautiful huecos on the wall.

Climb: Red Rocks, Nevada-several Date of Climb: 10/1/2005 Trip Report: I've had a dreamy couple of days at work thinking of the trip to Red Rocks just completed. chucK had the camera, so I hope he can provide some pictures here. We had a productive stretch of days, arriving Saturday morning, 10/1 and flying out Wednesday night 10/5. Here's what we did: Day 1) Fly in, get rental car and camp site, start climbing at 3:00: First three pitches of Prince of Darkness. I led the second pitch which was hard for me, off the couch and out of shape. Huge relief to get a 5.10 on-sight lead out of the way so early in the trip. Successfully followed chucK up the next pitch, 5.10c, amazed to get up it. Day 2) Did Epinephrine on my 50th birthday. Thanks to my wife for understanding that there could be no better way to celebrate. Started late, having moved to a hotel on the Strip, climbing at about 9am. But still ran into another party in the chimney! I thought it was all over, but chucK was highly motivated and negotiated passing them using two nearby anchor ledges. We got back before dark, but they probably did not! I hope they were comfortable. Day 3) Stil in Black Velvet Canyon, did Refried Brains. Two wonderful 5.9 pitches with short off-width sections made the day a blast. We didn't go to the top as we didn't bring hiking shoes up the wall, rapped down after 6 pitches. Day 4) Went to Oak Creek Canyon, did Black Orpheus, another classic. I got the first 5.9 crack, which was very fine jamming and stemming. chucK got the worrisome 5.9+ pitch, but it was only one move and easy for tall people. Day 5) Went to First Creek Canyon, did Lotta Balls. They say this is the most famous pitch in Red Rocks, where you pinch these little mushrooms of desert varnish the size of marbles to golf balls. Next chucK backed off of Rob Roy, 5.10-, at the first bolt, a devious start. Then I did my hardest pitch of the trip: Gin Ricky, 5.10c. It felt harder than Sloe Children at Index. Anyway, it had me gasping and talking loudly to myself, "Come on, Come ON!". A fingertip crack in a huge dihedral leaning over a slippery, smoothly varnished wall for 20 of the 180 foot pitch. Now that we had a rope up, we top-roped chucK's Rob Roy thing, and of course it wasn't that hard and he was bummed! We finished off with the easy pitch Kindergarten Cop in the Romper Room. That place is fun, but it's easy to come back broke. Gear Notes: #4 Camalot for Refried Brains.

This project will be appreciated by many. I would like to second the comment by crazyjz that the bolt at the top of Rollercoaster Chimney is a very old quarter incher. Thanks for considering replacing it.

Looks like a blast, Dave! There's nothing better than spending multiple days in the wild. You really got down into the dirt and bush, it looks like! It is great to have maintained trails, better than not. My son and I recently spent a day with WTA on the Lake Dorothy trail, which was the best way to spend a rainy day! Also, I got skunked this summer trying to get up to a climb on an abandoned trail, on which we managed one and a half miles in four hours. We never saw the peak we went to climb. So, trail maintenance is Good!

Great one, chucK! Strong headed solo effort. I went there a long time ago up the Middle Fork road, and we bivvied at the base after a long hike. Your approach route astounds me.

Thanks for the fine picture and story. Way to go!

Yes, it's a classic. I'd wanted to do this for a long time, as chucK says it was a mania of mine. Tried it with a party of three, with my buddies Jake L. and John M. on the Fourth of July two years ago. We were too slow and just bivvied under the North Peak, drinking bourbon and watching the light show...

I got to watch chucK's flying act up close as he hurtled toward me. When we saw you on G-M, we had just done Gorilla My Dreams, then Plum Pudding on the Middle Wall.

Wow, thanks for the photo Daryl. That looks really good to me. I'm always looking for another "moderate" pitch at Index. Any idea of the rating of the one marked in red?

Ha ha, OK I won't try it with my 58m rope. We should look for the (new) 5.8 finish (or was it .9?) that appears in Daryl's guidebook some time. It's hard to imagine it goes, that wall is steep...

Thanks for the interesting report! I'll have to go there some time, perhaps with crowbar...

I just got off the phone with one of the first ascent party, John Medosch. He says they climbed thin cracks on the face to the left of my wide crack. They protected it with slider nuts.

Thanks for the confirmation on the gear. I don't see how the pitch could be safely done without a big honkin' piece. I climbed the face out to the left and looked, and there's no pro out there. I climbed up and right, and it's mossy and ugly with no pro. A more committed face climber might do it, but it's obviously the big crack for me. I think it's too bad that info didn't make it into Daryl's guidebook - it could save some parties some anguish if they only bring up to 3" pro. I'm looking forward to calling Medosch to see how they did it on the first ascent!

Not "standard" for me, too big and heavy. I only carry it if I know the route has something that big, or if I just play a hunch like this time.

Climb: Gunn Peak-Gunnslinger Date of Climb: 7/10/2005 Trip Report: After finding that the spur road does not cross Barclay Creek, but stops at a fire ring, we parked and started the hike at about 8:00am. Crossing the creek on our hands and knees, the log being as slick as snot on a doorknob, was a humble beginning. Following the faint trail back downstream, it leads to the old road where one turns left. The trail heads right again in about an eighth of a mile, heading straight uphill. Approaching the peak one looks right up at the route. As I worked up the boulder field, I kept at bay a feeling of dread looking into that forbidding dihedral with the bright green patch on its left wall by thinking, "that can't be the route..." But there is no other continuous line on the south side of Gunn Peak. As we racked up it started to rain. I didn't want to get on this intimidating looking route with wet rock, feeling I needed every advantage to get up it with a relatively inexperienced partner. This could be the climb of the year for TJ, or total disaster. So with an edge of anger we decided to forget the route and just run up the easy, standard route. Anger, because I didn't want to do that approach hike again, ever. After a pleasant stroll to tag the summit and back, the sky seemed a bit lighter. My partner casually mentioned that maybe we could try the route we came to do. My first thought was, "this is crazy, we've just wasted another hour, after wasting an hour in the car finding the trailhead, that's two hours, both of us forgot our watches, the clouds are really low..". I said, "yeah, let's go for it." Moving fast now, I plowed through the trees at the base of the dihedral and set up the anchor. Every step was explained, I only hoped my partner would absorb most of it, the only route I knew he had ever done was the Tooth. This was going to be way more exciting than he knew. After a couple of semi-hanging belays, we were at the 5.9 crux. I don't know if Bryan and John used a cam larger than 3" or not, but Daryl Cramer's guide advises pro to 3", and the overhanging crack I was looking into was a good 4.25 inches wide. How glad was I that I brought the number 4 Camalot? With joy I pushed it up for several moves, stemming wildly, fist jamming nearly to my limits, latching the beautiful horn at the top. I stopped after just a few more face moves up steps in the dihedral, directly even with the beautiful bright green wall, making a short pitch to stay in voice contact with my partner knowing he had an ordeal to overcome. After several falls, trying the face moves out to the left, voicing an idea of face moves to the right, my partner finally struggled up the big gaping arm crack. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done!" was his comment, and I knew it to be true. Huge relief at not having to rappel off that small wedged chockstone with the two runners and biner we passed just below the overhang filled me with happiness. Lower down we had passed a chewed up runner around a horn, and I bagged a booty wired stopper, someone else had bailed off... Now I finished the last of the dihedral crack, and clambered up and off to the summit, knowing we had a race with the darkness. Walking away from Gunn Peak, I turned with the curve of the basin and went too far East. TJ caught the mistake and called a halt, we checked the map and compass, and got back on route. The familiar tree-filled basin of Barclay Creek lay below us, now we just had to downclimb wet rock which was exposed but easy in the dry morning. With much careful, time consuming zig zagging down the cliff, we plunged into the wet trees and ferns, getting totally soaked, and happily found a pink ribbon and the trail home. With all the hesitations, wrong turns, careful picking our way, and climbing the peak twice, we still got to the car by 9:00pm and before dark. Thanks Bryan and John, for another adventuresome route in the Cascades. Gear Notes: #4 Camalot Approach Notes: Road does not cross the creek. Follow a way trail to a log crossing.

Yesterday we had some fun removing a big log from the road-end at the Static Point trailhead. The log prevented driving into a convenient turn-around. There is still one big log blocking access to the true road-end, but it's less than a quarter mile. We left that one for the next crew - wanted to go up and climb! Thanks to Chris K. and his big Huskvarna.

Thanks for the fine route report. It looks like a good, tough route. What, no moss and cedar pulling?

Nice description of the desperate search for a good climb. I've done it in Washington a few times, it's cool to hear the BC version. Do you have any pictures of Yak by the way? Thanks for the good earth-tone article.

No, we didn't go down there. We had hoped to move a camp over there and do some routes on Combatant, but my partner's infected toe took precedence, and we left four days early.

Not sure, Colin seemed to think it might be. We're hoping to get some info on that from Mr. Serl...

I'm not sure of Colin's last name, but Nick has baby twins.

Climb: Mount Waddington, Northwest Peak - Risse Route Date of Climb: 7/30/2004 Trip Report: A full day of rest after climbing the Wiessner-House route was what I wanted and I took it. Our other partner, Jim Daubert, had arrived while we were out and set up a tent for us. He was fresh and wanted to climb, so he went with the tough Calgarian up Trundler's Point via its Trundler's Buttress route. When Jim got back, he soon mentioned his idea of going up the Wiessner-House route with me if I wouldn't mind climbing it twice in a row! Not likely. But I felt a little bad for leaving without him on the first trip, so I had to come up with a counter offer. "How about teaming up with these Canadians for the Risse Route?", said I. All agreed, so it was decided to start the next day at the crack of noon for our bivy on the upper Dais. Which is what we did the next day, with the snow much softer and bridges more tenuous after five days of sun. Other than the replacement of Jim for Jake, who had come down with an infected toe, with the ever-strong Colin and Nick the team was the same and well motivated. We reached the same high camp on the upper Dais that we had made earlier for the Wiessner-House route. There I found my stove, pan and cup where I'd left them in the snow. I would carry them over the top this time, to avoid a return trip to this camp. We overslept a bit, but Jim saved us by waking me at 2:15am and we were almost on schedule, brewing up and then leaving at around 3:30. The crossing of the schrund was a steep and sugar-snow affair which Colin led without hesitation. As he proceded up the narrow ice couloir I worried about the central section which was without any snow or ice visible. Another loose chimney, this time in the dark? I needn't have worried, as this was the first really interesting section of the climb. With much dry-tooling, stemming across the running stream with crampon points slotting firmly into little edges and pockets in the rock, the section flowed with that heightened focus and determination that makes all else drop away. Daylight arrived on the other side. With a long stretch of arduous front-pointing ahead, I set up a belay in case Jim had any difficulty, not knowing how much of this kind of mixed climbing he had done. I didn't want to stand on frontpoints with calves burning for long! But he came up quickly, cleaning the seven or eight pieces that the two rope teams had placed. Colin and Nick had been perfectly thoughtful of the group, leaving a piece where they thought we might need it, and they were right every time. Hundreds of feet of steepish snow slopes ensued. We made the great right-turn at the envisioned place, the "snowy basin", and angled to the right for several more pitches. Jim and I took over the lead here, and we were climbing pitches now, swinging leads. We kept looking for the route to hit the "flying buttress" but it went on and on so we were confused. I finally came to a vertical, loose rock outcrop right on the ridge we were looking for. Still in crampons, the next pitch was when Jim showed he had absorbed some mixed climbing techniques if he didn't have them before. The steep 5.8 face climbing would have been interesting in rock shoes. I was hard put to follow it without skating off, but made it and did one more pitch before removing the crampons. It looked like good rock climbing from here on out, and it was. The Flying Buttress was an amazingly sharp, narrow blade of jagged rock with huge drops on either side. We would have enjoyed it completely if the sun were not turning red, just a short distance above the horizon. There was no place to bivy, I did not want to sit out a cold night, and the summit spire still looked huge at the end of the ridge. I admit my mind accelerated into a frenzy as we dashed across the knife edge. For instance, I let one rope get horribly dragged and impossible to pull at one point, where Jim solved it by coiling the problem rope as he came, belayed by the other. Another time I let the two ropes tangle terribly, forcing a frantic taffy-pull. Furthermore, the final section where the ridge meets the summit spire was not visible, and I worried that there was a deep gap to be rappelled, or some technical problem to solve to slow us further. It was a huge relief to find that the mystery section was simply met by vertical downclimbing three moves to the final gap. Looking across at the last pitch, an easy snow slope up to a saddle, I finally knew we would make it. When Jim and I got up we realized that Colin and Nick were quite a ways behind us. We reached the snow saddle at 10:15pm and it wasn't until 11:30 that they came up - Jim and I had really moved out when chased by oncoming darkness. We were on the False Summit of the Northwest Peak, so we each hopped up the snow bump in turn to bag that point. But still I didn't know the way down, so we burned up the last of the fuel making cups of hot chocolate trying to stay warm in the wind. We followed Colin up to the true summit from there at midnight, being the easiest way to get back to their tracks from four days earlier. He set up a picket belay and I tottered backwards down the steep snow to the Terrace below, stiff and exhausted. My watch alarm went off at 2:00am just as I was pulling myself into my sleeping bag in my old home snow coffin. It was a cold, windy night but a satisfying 24 hour day of climbing. Colin coming up into the snowy basin Looking down the initial couloir Typical of the verglassed ramp Colin and Nick at the start of the Flying Buttress The last pitch to the False Summit Next morning, the Northwest Peak Gear Notes: Rock and ice. Approach Notes: Bell 407