Paco

Well done!

I think it's time for sausage at Schultzy's in the U district.

I usually refer to those folk as gumbies or some such. The weekend warrior term really applies to those of us who hold regular 9-5 Monday thru Friday jobs and therefore cannot climb 24/7. Thus we only play on the weekends, albiet a lot of us play pretty hard on the weekends. I believe the term was created to distinguish those livin' the life as a climbing bum, and those that "sold out" by getting regular jobs and climbing only on the weekends.

Alright, maybe I haven't thought this one all the way through yet, but how bad is it (in terms of increased impact force) really if there is some extension in you anchor if a piece fails. I agree that you want to minimize the extension, which can be done when using the death x configuration by simply tying overhand knots in the runner, but the whole reason for "no extension" is so that you don't "shock load" any piece. By "shock loading" a piece I think we all mean loading a piece statically. Picture this: Two pieces equalized in said death X configuration with a 48" runner. The pieces are right next to each other so if one failed the anchor would extend 24". If a climber is out 30ft from the anchor and falls he falls 60ft, it's a fall factor of 2. If one piece fails then he falls 62 ft a fall factor of just a little over two. So the impact force in this case is just a little more than double on the single piece then each would carry if one piece did not fail. The system still does not get statically loaded because the rope stretches and absorbs the impact force. The only way the death x will statically load a piece if another piece in the anchor fails is if the climbing rope is not a part of the system. You can add a fat belayer into the equation because said belayer would be conected directly to the anchor. If one piece fails then the fat belayer would statically load the anchor, but how much force does this generate if the belayer weighs, say, 200 lbs?

Oh, and check some of David Allen Coe's stuff too.

Nanci Griffith Johnny Cash Gil Scott Heron, well sort of. And I second Bob Dylan.

While we are on the subject... work has been pissing me off recently and today it's really fucking annoying. Time to go mutha phukin' climbin'!

Yeah, Twight kinda came to mind when I posted this question. I was wondering if it worked for anyone else. I think Twight climbed more out of despair and anger at himself, not because someone else pissed him off.

Being really pissed off does little to help my technical climbing ability. Usually I end up climbing like shit and getting even more pissed off. The type of climbing that works well for me when I'm really angry are those long non-technical slogs. I find those climbs that take minimal technical ability, but large amounts of energy are great climbs to do when mad. That way the extra energy from being angry can get channeled and dissipated in physical exertion. Hope this helps. Sucks that you are pissed off.

Adventuregal

I'm down with the Sloop or how about the Old Peculiar, also in Ballard?

Nice job! Sounds like a fun route.

I thought that I should respond to Juan’s and others’ comments because it seems that my Dragontail TR post, at least in part, was responsible for him starting the thread. Here goes… Juan, your concern is appreciated and I share your sentiments in that I hope people are more careful out there. The main reason that I wrote and posted my trip report was to share a really intense personal experience with others in the climbing community. This climb was decidedly not just another ordinary experience for me. I do not regularly solo routes, and I consider myself, at best, to be just another climber. My plan for the climb was to take minimal gear. I even considered leaving my helmet at home to save weight, but thought the better of that. I didn’t take a rope so the only method I had for bailing was to down climb or traverse off, if possible. I was practically naked. I wore a thin polypro layer on my legs and two thin layers on my top. In my pack I carried an additional thin fleece layer for my top, and a pair of gore-tex pants for my legs. Wearing all I had would not have kept me warm at night if I were unable to move. I did, however, carry plenty of water, and plenty of food. Climbing in this fashion leaves little or no room for error. The margin of safety is significantly decreased. The importance of climbers’ actions and decisions are increased exponentially as less gear taken. Soloing further reduces the margin of safety. Soloing involves very serious consequences. Regardless of the difficulty of the route or the climber’s ability, soloing takes a full commitment and anything less will leave you in a heap at the bottom. Such is the nature of soloing. On the climb, after getting off route, I encountered harder technical climbing than I had expected. There were times during which I felt really exposed. I wasn’t sure what was ahead, and I knew that I couldn’t down climb what was below. There was never a moment where I felt like I was on the verge of pitching off, but by no means did I feel totally secure and comfortable. There was a brief moment when I thought to myself, “Man, I don’t know what the outcome of this is going to be.” This was my first experience of the kind. There was no panic, only a disheartening acceptance. The full effect of the commitment that I had made when starting was being reinforced. This thought lasted only for a few moments and then my attention focused rather intensely on the climbing. My moves were deliberate and methodical. I was surprised at how well my mind and body reacted to the situation. These situations do make an impression on you. Maybe these situations are common to great climbers who constantly push their limits or soloists who do the same, but for me this was a very new and very different experience. I got in a situation that was more difficult that I would have normally chosen to solo, but in the end when all was said and done I felt extremely rewarded. I liked how my body and mind reacted. I liked the intense emotion. I liked being able to rise to the occasion. I learned a lot about myself through this experience. I can’t say that I want to rush out and go through the same experience again, but I like how I have grown form it. The harder we push, the more we are rewarded when we succeed. Failure in this game occurs only once. Is this what is required to become a great climber, in particular a great alpinist, today? Do the best climbers succeed because they solo hard routes. It certainly indicates to the climbing community that they can hold their shit together. Does soloing hard routes allow one to push themselves that much harder when on lead with a rope? The difference in fear between a 20 ft fall and a 2000 ft fall is indeed significant. Is soloing hard routes the membership requirement for joining the ranks of elite alpinists, or is it merely a quick way to weed out those who are not qualified? Messner soloed hard routes in the Dolomites, the Alps, and on Everest. Twight soloed hard routes I the Alps. House soloed a new route, Beauty is a Rare Thing, on Denali. Muggs Stump soloed the Cassin on Denali. John Bouchard soloed the Black Dike and new routes in the Alps. Colin soloed the North Face of Graybeard last May. (I just had to plug one in there for Colin. He’s a badass!) The list goes on. This is what has plagued my mind for a few years now and caused me the greatest concern. Is there an unspoken need for today’s aspiring alpinists to solo hard routes in order to join the ranks of the elite?

Sweet photos josh! Nice job on the climb. Maybe I'll have to head back in there and do the route proper this time.

In general I prefer to use a 30M half rope. I think mine is around 8.5mm or so. Half ropes are plenty strong enough for glacial travel. I like using a 30M rope for glaciers in the Cascades as most of the crevasses are not very wide. I think that for Rainier a 30M rope would be a bit short, but I suppose it depends on what route you are doing, etc. Short and skinny ropes can save a lot of weight, but they definitely provide less flexibility when spacing people or when setting up pully systems. Also, if a pitch needs to be belayed or rappeled, you are pretty limited as well.

This winter when ice climbing in the Canandian Rockies I simul-rappelled many times when climbing as a threesome. The first two would rap with a backed up anchor, then the third person would rappel taking the back-up out. It worked out really well in this situation. If there were two climbers, it is probably better to rap individually. Needless to say extra care must be taken when simul-rappelling. If one person raps off the end, then both people are screwed. Also, care must be given when weighting and unweighting the rap lines so the lines don't slip, or so the other rappeler doesn't fall when the other end is unweighted. Climb, and rappel, safe!

Just bringing this one back to the top. Billygoat, did you head up there yesterday?

So where are we boozing, Wedgewood or downtown? My vote goes Wedgewood.

I passed on tagging the summit. After climbing up and over the ridge I just decended down the other side. Come to think of it after all of that I didn't even think about going for the summit from the south side.

This weekend was the weekend. I wanted to end a six-week period of profound inactivity and I wanted to do it properly. I was super-motivated, something which had not occurred over the last six weeks. I wanted to do something long and moderately difficult. I wanted to do it solo. Triple Couloirs on Dragontail fit the bill. The climb was in good shape, and the weather for the weekend as forecasted was good enough. The plan was simple: climb triple couloirs solo in a single car-to-car push. I would leave work at 5:00 on Friday, head home, pack, eat, and get jazzed up on caffeine so I could make it through the night. I was planning to forgo sleep Friday night so I could climb through the night. So Friday rolls around, I leave work, and the plan is set in motion. Shortly thereafter I’m packed, fed, one cup of Joe down, and a liter of English Breakfast Tea is ready for the ride. I’m off. The skies are clear and there’s a half moon at 10:30 when I leave the car. I don’t have to use my headlamp until I enter the woods at the Colchuck/Stuart Lake trailhead. When I reach Colchuck Lake I notice that the skies are now cloudy. It’s still dark and will be for a while when I get to the base of the hidden couloir. About 100 ft. into the couloir my hands are cold. I’m still wearing my fleece approach gloves. It’s time to switch to the warmer pair. I take my pack off, pull out the warmer gloves, and, “Fuck!,” there goes one glove sliding off into the darkness. “Fuck. How far did that slide? I can’t tell. Fuck. Hopefully I’ll find that one on my way out. I’ll just have to use the thin fleece glove for my left hand.” After climbing maybe 1500 ft. or so I see what I think is the entrance to the second couloir. I head up this onto ice and neve. “Damn, some of this is pretty thin and not well bonded. Where did all this spindrift come from? Fuck, now I know why jackets come with hoods. Too bad mine didn’t.” Above this section I climb up a 200 ft. snow couloir. It ends in a rock band. “Fuck, this ain’t right. Let’s continue up anyway and see what we see. I don’t want to have to reverse some of those last moves if I can avoid it.” Up I go. “Damn, this is dicey.” I climb through, getting hammered by spindrift, and realize that there is no way I could downclimb what I just came up. “You’re committed now fucker.” Time to fail upwards as Mark Twight might say. There’s more spindrift. I continue up through a few more rock bands and snow patches until reaching the East ridge. From here I climb over the ridge through a small notch, and downclimb the south side for 200ft. of moderate snow, ice, and rock to lower angled snow slopes below. The climbing through the rock bands involved dicey mixed climbing. The rock bands were moderately steep and covered in any combination of ice, neve, or powder. All of it was thin, a lot of it was not well bonded, some of it was hollow, and none of it was good. Thankfully it turned out to be good enough. After heading down from Asgard Pass I traverse over to the base of the hidden couloir and found my glove. Sorry, no booty for you! Needless to say, Paco got a little more adventure than he had bargained for. I’m glad that I can tell you about it instead of the AAC in Accidents of North America. Have Fun and Climb Safe. In an attempt to figure out just where on the Northeast Face I climbed, I have put together my best recollection of what occurred. I climbed up the hidden couloir about 1500 ft. or so, and then followed a short couloir for about 100 ft. that angled off the hidden couloir at about 30 degrees. I passed a pink, weathered rap sling abandoned in the rock to my right near the top of this. Exiting this couloir involved climbing neve and ice for about another 100 ft. to a second couloir. This couloir headed straight up for about 200 ft. and ended in a rock band. I climbed the rocks to a snow patch that angled slightly up and to the left with another rock band above. I opted to climb the rocks directly ahead. I first tried climbing near the right hand corner, but this looked too difficult so I traversed left approximately 50 ft. to lower angled rock. I climbed this to second, smaller snow patch. Above this was another rock band that I climbed to reach a narrow snow patch that stretched horizontally across the face below the ridge crest. I traversed right about 30 ft. to the top of a steep narrow couloir and a notch in the East ridge. I climbed through the notch and then down climbed moderately difficult snow, ice and rock for approx 200 ft. to the lower angled snow slopes below. From here it was an easy downward traverse to Asgard Pass. The best that I can figure is that I climbed a line on the Northeast face above the hidden couloir that pretty much followed a direct plumb line from the prominent notch in the East ridge to the hidden couloir below approximately 100 to 200 ft. left of the second couloir of the Triple Couloirs route.

Just to set the record straight...I registered before you, made my first post before you, and have always used this avitar. I just haven't posted as many times as you. What's it matter anyway? Find me an avitar with a sketchy looking mexican in a sombrero smoking something and I'll start a new gang.

Yeah, I read the TR. Nice job guys. That info is four weeks old now and the weather has definitly changed the conditions since then. The weather reports and avy reports seem to indicate that the route would not be in good condition this weekend. I was looking to see if anyone had been in the area within the last week.

I'm back, not only back in Seattle as I have been for a month now, but I'm back and ready to climb again. I needed a month off to rest physically and allow the mind to wander. I want to send out a special thanks for all those who helped me out this winter making my winter adventures possible and also incredibly fun! In particular, thank you DPS for letting me store my stuff at your house for a little while. Thank you ehmmic for taking me to and picking me up from the airport, and letting me crash at your place a few nights. And thank you to all the people I climbed with, keeping things fun and safe....Mike, Steve, Todd, Linda, Phil, Eric, Michael, Thalia, Sara, Geoff, Brian, Mike, Paul, Jon, Michelle, and any others that I might have missed. Let the adventures continue, the mountains are calling again!

Anybody have any recent beta for this route?