ptownclimber

sorry just saw this. yes, there is a pretty obvious boot track.

Trip: Baker - Coleman Headwall Date: 8/9/2010 Trip Report: This was an unlikely trip. I'm out of shape and the weather forecast was not promising. The forecast called for 50%, then a 70% chance of rain on Saturday, and about a 30% chance on Sunday. Monday's forecast called for partly cloudy skies. Not wanting to bail, four of us agreed to go Sunday-Monday. Pushing the trip out one day meant I would probably catch a little hell at work. It also meant I would get home a whole day later than my girlfriend was due home from Canada. Now I did have some reasons to go on this trip in spite of that. Owing to a long, sad litany of reasons, I' haven't been getting out much this year. OK, so they're not all sad reasons. Take the aforementioned girlfriend, for example. All of this explains how this climb came about when it otherwise might not. Early Sunday morning we left gardens full of green tomatoes under cloudy skies. Is it really August? We made good time on the drive, avoiding weekend traffic. There was a little bit of precip on the way up, and some breaks in the clouds. We grabbed a bite to eat in Bellingham. Things were looking up. The promise of blue skies gradually faded; we arrived at the trailhead in a steady drizzle. Undaunted, we headed up - putting our faith in the prospect of clearing skies. The wildflowers on Heliotrope ridge were somehow more brilliant under the grey mist and silvery beads of water. The black rock glistened wet. We set up tents and tried to nap and dry out, hoping it would let up. Sure enough, by dinnertime things were dry and we started to get glimpses of Baker. We resolved to head up early. If the weather cleared, we'd go for the Coleman headwall. If not, we could always run up the Coleman-Deming. We woke at 1:30 to a very fine, cloudy mist - just some visible humidity, if you will. Jeff had seen some stars at night, and we could see the moon through the clouds. We geared up and headed out. Very soon, we were climbing above this low cloud layer. Our excitement grew as the snow was nice and firm - well frozen over night. We followed an obvious boot track up, veering North somewhere around 8,000 feet. We headed straight for the tip of the Roman nose, but had to back-track and descend a little to find a reasonable way across. Ever since last year's trip to Orcas Island, I've wanted to climb the West side of Baker to get a summit view of the ocean. It didn't look like this would happen, as a sea of clouds obscured everything below camp. Sunrise over this layer raised the excitement. Soon we were ascending up to the cone, through rock and icefall debris. The beta we had indicated a traverse onto a swath of black ice. Approaching this, the transition from snow to ice looked rather exposed, so we trended up and right instead. After a simul-climbing pitch, we found a nice belay that offered an option down and across the black ice, or up and through more broken up glacier snow/ice. We opted for the latter, and soon found ourselves crossing snow bridges on softer and softer snow. We didn't intend to avoid the black ice, but never found our way over to it. As the hours drifted by, thin layers of high clouds were building, and the tide of low clouds was rising. By the time the sun crested the summit, the high clouds thickened, blocking the bright rays but not the warmth. Higher up, we encountered less ice but softer and softer snow. Things were taking longer than anticipated, and it was clear that ocean of clouds was going to beat us to the summit. By the time we got to the final bergschrund, it was snowing. Is it really August? This section proved to have the softest, steepest snow. We placed pickets, somehow finding psychological protection in their 0kN strength. By the time we topped out, snow was starting to accumulate and visibility was limited. The bright white snow over old, wet snow lent enough contrast for us to find the descent track. The lack of visibility seemed to extend the descent. On and on we slogged, down through the snow and into mist, then rain. Camp looked as wet as when we arrived. We stuffed wet gear into packs and soldiered out. The lack of sleep, visibility and dryness cast disbelief on the experience. Is it really August? Did that really happen? Sore feet confirmed that it did. Not bad for a Monday. Thanks guys for a great outing.

:-)

Also - volunteer opportunities in Huaraz???

Does anyone know if butane fuel canisters are available in Peru (Lima or Huaraz)?

Hey about what size does that translate to in street shoes? Are those heat moldable linings?

Injuries and boredom have conspired to motivate me to finally build the dry tooling garage. Looking for recommendations on holds to use for dry tooling training...

word

Beyond the Mountain with Steve House Reading and signing with slide show Portland Eco Trust Building http://www.patagonia.com/web/us/patagonia.go?sssdmh=dm23.115850&assetid=1920&src=store_event

Rumor has it there may be some post funk at the horse brass...

Evidently not

The Mazama Expedition Committee hosts Colin Haley for a presentation of his 2009 ascent of two 6,000 foot routes on the North Buttress of Mount Hunter, Alaska - the Bibler-Klewin (AKA Moonflower Buttress) and the harder but less-known Grison-Tedeschi (AKA French Couloir). Colin is a Patagonia Climbing Ambassador and has exploded onto the alpine scene lately with numerous major achievements. For a sneak peak of the show check out Colin’s blog post.

Money

Looking for climbing partners interested in developing big wall skills - culminating in the Salathe route.

Trip: Bugaboos - multiple Date: 7/26/2009 Trip Report: Following many months of planning, scheming, evenings of reverie and good times - the moment had finally come. We were in the dusty parking lot after about an hour of gravel roads, wrapping our car in chicken wire. It's not really wrapping the car up like a present...it's more like putting a skirt of iron around the loins of the trusty automobile. Yes, we were finally here, strapping on these obscenely large packs, chock full of gear and food for a week in the Bugaboos. We being Jport, Gabrielle, me and countless hungry mosquitoes. The forecast called for a few days with chance of afternoon showers/thunderstorms followed by four days of sunshine. So we planned on alpine starts to get off the routes before the weather rolled in. The first day we opted for a warm-up, climbing the SE ridge of Eastpost Spire - mainly a 3rd and 4th class scramble with a little bit of simul climbing. Early on, in the dark and rain, Gabrielle took a short tumble (she and the rock next to her, evidently). It seemed like just a scrape. Undaunted, we plodded on. With just a few hours of morning exhausted, we hiked over to Crescent Spires for a route called Ears Between. We found the direct start quite a wake-up call, followed by some fun climbing and some chimney work. We finished rappelling off and started the hike down just in time to soak up the afternoon showers. Day 2: we had our eye on wingtip arete on Pigeon Spire, but opted for an easier route after our experience on Ears Between. A quick consultation of the guidebook yielded a more moderate objective, something like 8 hours door to door, a more obscure route calledMillar-Shepard, rated 5.6. We came to call the route "5.6 my ass". This called for our first trip up the Bugaboo-Snowpatch Col, which we found in good condition - decent snow coverage and a straightforward ascent track. Getting on the route was a little bit of an adventure, navigating around abergschrund and up a rotten gully. It seems like the snow level was fairly low, with a lot of big moats and bergschrunds . The start to this route could be an easy walk-up with the right snow conditions. The route proper follows the (more or less) obvious eastridge line - or in other words, up slabs, cracks and chimneys covered in that delightfully manky black lichen. For one pitch we had the option of low angle snow/ice or cracks. Opting for the snow, we found hard ice underneath (would have been a good day for steel crampons);Jport dispensed nicely with this lead - gloveless. Scrambling and roped climbing brought us all to the summit just in time for Jport to get a clear view of the weather coming in from the east. One rappel (70m rope) got us to the downclimb of the West Ridge just as the first drops started to fall. The position of the West Ridge is spectacular, the rock is clean (much cleaner than we had been on) and the climbing is positive. It would have been more fun without the rain. Of course the precipitation let up at pretty much exactly the same time we got to the base of the climb, had a late lunch and changed back into boots. The climb took us longer than we had hoped, our hands were beat up from the sharp rock, and we had struggled on pitches rated well within our experience levels. We were climbing with half ropes, so in theory climbing as a threesome shouldn't have slowed us down that much. Day 3: Now at this point it was becoming evident that Gabrielle's tumble resulted in more than just a scrape. She was in sporadic pain with laughter, breathing and certain upper body movements - all hard to avoid while climbing. She elected to sleep in on day three whileJport and I tried to climb faster and more efficiently. On the northwest corner of Snowpatch spire we found 8 pitches of fun climbing on 'Buckingham Route - the enjoyable way'. We were able to ditch boots, axe, etc. at the base and climb with one small pack between the two of us. This came off more in line with our expectations, except for the bonus 5.9 chimneyJport decided to throw in for no good reason. This was not a matter of getting off-route, more a matter of saying "well, I could go this way..." (right) and going left. Above this the last pitch took us over some fun flakes, cracks and crux slabs - protected with bolts. The descent was time consuming with lots of rope management on the rappels. So we were finally starting to get into our groove and a cadence. Day 4: the forecast for good weather seemed to push out day by day. Between weather (highest probability of precipitation in the forecast so far), Gabrielle's injury and our general state of fatigue, we opted for a very light day - an easy 3 pitch route onEastpost . What we found was only one manky pitch of crack/chimney/lichen. Discouraged by the route finding failure and our general state of lassitude, we called it a rest day - cards, naps, lunch...and lots of sunshine. It did rain that night, but the afternoon weather we were trying to avoid never materialized. Day 5: the long promised sunny weather continued to push out day by day, so we more or less ignored the forecast. We wanted to do the NE ridge of Bugaboo, but still concerned about our pace, the descent and Gabrielle's injury. Evidently a lot of parties don't make it back before dark. So we figured it would be a good day to climb the Kain route on Bugaboo as a threesome -Jport and I would then have the descent dialed for the next day. We enjoyed good weather, fun scrambling and a few pitches of airy climbing. We were quite impressed with Conrad Kain's 1916 first ascent - round trip from the valley floor. A couple of moves around the gendarme must have been pretty gutsy with the gear he had. By this point the Bugaboo-Snowpatch Col was getting pretty nasty. Towards the top, heat and rain had conspired to melt off a lot of the snow, leaving more and more ice above thebergschrund. We were doing two double rope rappels to get down. The second rap took us over the bergschrund. There had been a snow bridge but it had melted out by now, making for a more exciting rappel down into the 'schrund and back out. We were glad this was our last trip up the col. Day 6: Pared down to one day pack, one camelback and a rope backpack, Jport and I headed out early for the NE ridge of Bugaboo. We made good time on the approach, roping up around sunrise. It was a smokey, hazy day but without threat of clouds so far and pleasant temps for climbing. We were surprised to have the route to ourselves. The route lived up to its billing - clean rock, great position, and the moves are all there. We got off route at the low 5th class chimney system - getting into the nice cracks to the left. Before we knew it we were making our way over to the south summit, the Kain route rappels and the end of our Bugaboos trip. We were packed up and leaving the hut before 7, and back in Radium in time for burgers and beer. From Portland, the Bugaboos are every bit as accessible and enjoyable as a trip to Yosemite. We barely even scratched the surface - lots of quality climbing to be had. Gabrielle is recovering nicely. More pictures forthcoming http://picasaweb.google.com/ptownpreston/Bugaboos2K9?feat=directlink Gear Notes: could have packed in less Approach Notes: Beautiful; strenuous

In short - it sucks. Waterfalls, low angle slabs and slide alder. Of course, some people would call that 'fun'...

Awesome. Congrats

Road access?

Anyone been up recently? How is the snow down low by the lodge?

Hey your photo is not showing up - can you re-post?

Congrats!

Thanks to generous contributions: win cool raffle prizes from Patagonia, Mountain Hardwear, Marmot and others.

Thanks to generous contributions: win cool raffle prizes from Patagonia, Mountain Hardwear, Marmot and others.

April 30th at the Bagdad Theater 3702 S.E. Hawthorne Blvd. Portland, OR 97214 503-236-9234 -doors at 6pm, show at 7 -tickets $8 in advance and $10 at the door All proceeds will benefit the dZi foundation, which supports twenty-two health, education, and community development programs throughout the Himalayan region of India and Nepal - primarily in communities not on the radar of other International Non-Governmental Organizations due to caste make-up and remote location. www.dZifoundation.org Trailer: http://cascadeclimbers.com/forum/ubbthreads.php/topics/875887/TR_Himlung_Himal_Nepal_Northwe#Post875887

Trip: Himlung Himal, Nepal - Northwest Ridge Date: 10/28/2009 Trip Report: **trip date was 2008 - not available from the drop-down** Sunset over Besisahar After several years of scheming, planning, training and preparation, we arrived at long last in Kathmandu by dark of night, tired and oblivious to the experience awaiting us. We soon found ourselves in the dirty, frenetic, fascinating jungle of this third world city. Final preparations were made - procurement of Yak cheese, orange juice (lost my Gatorade bottle at airport security), prayer flags and whiskey. Our sherpas slept through the half-day bus ride to Besisahar. We were riveted by the white knuckle ride, motorized masses of humanity weaving up and down precarious roads, along steep, terraced hillsides of corn and rice. The initial, most shocking impression is the ubiquity of green. Even coming from Portland, the lush, verdant landscape was overwhelming. Soon our pace was dictated by that of the donkeys. Leaving the clatter and fumes of diesel behind, we made our way deeper and deeper into the mid mountain region of Nepal, farther and farther away from the sequacious, tedious concerns of our comfortable western lives. Coming to the Himalaya, we had every expectation of majestic vistas, steep relief and fascinating people, but no concept of this lush, sub-tropical landscape. Immediately we were impressed with the relative poverty – and transcendent happiness – of the Nepali people. Thoughts of home were soon supplanted by the richness of the experience. Hiking through this country brought me back to my agrarian roots - agriculture still makes up something like 40% of the Nepali economy, and it is hard, manual work in this country. Day after day we pushed higher and higher – into familiar, temperate, coniferous forest...with bamboo and cannabis. The depth of the valleys, the extent of the river systems was hard to fathom - the absence of roads (for now) - refreshing. Endless rice paddies early on in the approach At Chame we turned North off the busy Annapurna trekking circuit, towards ancient, dry, dusty, inhospitable country. We reached the village of Phu by mid October, at thirteen thousand feet the last permanent civilization we would see before our grassy base camp at fifteen thousand feet. The monastery at Phu has been there for one thousand years, and the village looks as it would have that long ago, save for some solar panels, plastic buckets and western tourists. This small corner of Western Nepal was opened to tourism in the last five years. This is one of the things that drew us to this objective. We were surprised and a little disappointed to find a small crowd at base camp: two German teams, one Swiss group, Belgians and a dutch couple plussherpas and tamang porters. But base camp is on a broad, grassy, low angle slope and was plenty spacious for all these people and the local Yak herders. We found it great forhacky sack - the dearth of flat spots and the abundance of dung notwithstanding. We ate better than back home, three square meals a day: hot, fresh food, gallons of tea, ever smiling service. Ubiquitous prayer flags and mani stones Himlung is a relatively straightforward, non-technical climb. The route ascends a long, winding, snow covered and glaciated ridge flanked by broken, impassable glaciers. The summit is obscured from below base camp until over twenty thousand feet - where most parties establish camp three after several weeks of acclimatization. The challenge in climbing this mountain is simply its remoteness, the cold and the altitude. We enjoyed predictable post-monsoon weather, clear calm skies in the morning with varying degrees of wind and high clouds developing every afternoon. Above base camp we could see Annapurna to our West - generally with clouds raking off the summit from the winds. Yak herder just below base camp After our first carry to camp one and a rest day, Keith was coming down with HAPE. He informed us that he'd be walking back down to Chame. Twenty minutes into this hike, he was coughing up blood. Phurba, our sirdar (head sherpa) turned the progression around and called for a helicopter evac on the sat phone. By this time it was after noon and the winds had picked up. The helo would not arrive until the next morning. One of the Swiss climbers coming down from camp one is an ER doctor. Suddenly we were not so bummed to have neighbors at base camp. The ensuing hours passed uneasily. With treatment, descent and rest, Keith made a full recovery and traveled around Kathmandu before returning to the Annapurna trekking circuit. We took another rest day under perfectly clear skies - to regain our wits and catch up on sleep. Sunrise over the Annapurna range We established camps one and two at seventeen and twenty thousand feet, respectively. The comfort of base camp drew us back down again and again after trips to elevation. Finally we left the leisure life and committed to the high mountain, fighting brutally strong winds up to camp three where we took another rest and acclimatization day. 'Rest' above twenty thousand feet is a misnomer. We couldn't relax much, crammed in our cocoon of nylon and down, patiently melting snow to stay hydrated, trying to sleep. On October 28th we headed for the summit: We embark sometime after five in the morning, wearing pretty much everything we have – puffy pants, puffy coats, overboots. The sun is just beginning to light the eastern sky. I am stumbling at first, hadn’t slept well, not feeling strong. We traverse up and down the ridge to reach the climb proper – 30-45 degree slopes with steeper slopes, ice and crevasses below – not a good place to fall. The snow is dry, crystalline, firm, giving excellent crampon purchase and a loud crunch underfoot. The summit seems hopelessly far away. I settle in to a rhythm of twenty steps, then a stop to catch my breath. The ratio is easily 2 breaths for every step. We are gaining on the one section of rock & ice exposed by glacial action. We ascend the broad slope between the corniced ridge (left) and large crevasses (right). We see some avy crownwalls but the slides look pretty old. The sun reaches us around 9:30. Calm turns to a light breeze. We weave through slabs of sastrugi, sculpted into wings, airfoils and all manner of delicate shapes. We reach the fixed lines, tangible evidence of progress. The day wears on. I think about all the routes I haven’t climbed on Hood, yet. I think about how nice it is to climb in the relatively rich atmosphere below 10-12k ft. I think about Pizza – not the kind we’ve been eating here, but Pizza Scholls or Pizzicatto. I think about sitting on my couch and watching Old School. I think about the incredible experience of climbing in the Himalaya, more and more of it visible with each set of steps. Breeze turns to wind. Fingers and toes are just barely warm enough. One, two, three, four…the climbing is slow, methodical, not super technical – maybe 35 or 40 degrees. We enjoy good climbing conditions – the snow stays firm, we get some high clouds but nothing too serious. The sky is a deep blue, unnatural, more of the blue of a lake or an ocean, not the sky. We see Tibet. All around are mountains of brown and grey rock, covered with snow and glacier higher up. The final corniced ridge and small rock bands don’t seem to be getting any closer. I now do three steps before stopping to breath. I think about Keith and Andy Basque, which makes it harder to breath. Big mountains seem to have this effect on me. Finally cresting the summit, the first view is a precipitous drop off, a big flat glacial valley and Makalu. The views are overwhelming. The experience is overwhelming. I’ve seen amazing mountain vistas back home, after only 1 or 2 days climbing. The 15 or 20 minutes of views here are disproportionate to the effort. The experience is not. Older mountaineering literature describes climbing in belligerent language: war, attack, conquest, retreat. Perhaps this was the allegory that allowed them to understand the danger of injury and death. No mountain has ever been conquered by man. We stand on the top for a few minutes, in good conditions, and congratulate ourselves on the accomplishment. The mountains couldn’t care less. Can’t care at all, in fact. They are passive, inanimate objects. So far as we know, ours is the first American ascent of this unfeeling, nonthinking, (large) pile of rock, snow and ice. A significant accomplishment for American mountaineering? Doubtful. An amazing experience for each of us as individuals? Absolutely. There are ascents which are both personal achievements and major breakthroughs for mountaineering at the same time. Ours is not one of those. The process of reaching any summit has always rewarded me with powerful perspectives, introspection, cathartic cleansing of the trivial every-day. Arriving here, half a world away from home, in a wild, remote corner of the world brought new insights, tranquility, humility. I thought a lot about Andy Basque, about the ribbon from her memorial service that Keith asked me to carry to the summit. On this trip, leading up to this trip, I thought at great length about my own mortality, risk, and about living good days - free of regret, with passionate (not reckless) abandon. In those fleeting moments on the summit, I am fulfilled, at peace, changed. Before three in the afternoon we were making our way down the still firm slopes - back down towards our high camps, base camp, the Annapurna trekking circuit, Kathmandu, Portland and our boring, affluent lives. Above nineteen or twenty thousand feet, the wear and tear of altitude exceeds the benefits of acclimatization. We had spent four nights at that elevation. The next afternoon we arrived in base camp, physically exhausted and emotionally, spiritually rejuvenated. After some rest and a final trip to retrieve camp one, we celebrated Halloween with our Swiss friends. A fifth of whiskey goes a long ways at this elevation. We were already talking about future climbing plans - the love of life being the most universal of languages. While we had realized our climbing objective, we still had a good deal of trekking in front of us. This had always been a big part of our agenda. We retraced our steps back toChame and turned West. A few days later we were happy to be reunited with Keith in Manang. Our path lay to the Northwest, over Thorung La (pass) at seventeen thousand feet and down to Pokhara . Day after melancholy day we made our way back down from high, barren desert to temperate forest, through subtropical lowlands and towards civilization. Days spent on the trail or slogging up some glacier afford one good time for clear thinking - as my friend Gabrielle describes it "recalibrating the brain to calm the business of our minds." The trip in was filled with thoughts of the climb and why we expose ourselves to the hazards of climbing. On the way out thoughts of leaving Nepal weighed on our minds. What at first struck us as the shocking, chaotic, smoky, colorful craziness of Kathmandu now seemed familiar and comfortable. We were no longer surprised to see more motorcycles than cars, monkeys running around thegompas, the cattle guard at the Kathmandu international airport. It is impossible to travel in Nepal and not be impressed with how happy the people are in spite of their apparent poverty. Per capita GDP in Nepal is something like $270, as compared to around $45,000 in the United States. Coming back to the developed world in the middle of November - to contracting GDP and rising unemployment - I can only conclude that we are still really well off compared to the majority of the six billion people on this planet. This is not your typical post - not about sharing route or conditions beta, shameless self promotion or cool photos. This is about the happiness we get out of these experiences. It is an invitation to come hear some of the stories and give back a little to people living in these distant mountains, who don't enjoy the luxury of climbing as an avocation. We are putting on a slide show Thursday, April 30th at the Bagdad Theater in Portland (doors at 6pm, show at 7; tickets $8 in advance and $10 at the door). All proceeds will benefit the dZi foundation, which supports twenty-two health, education, and community development programs throughout the Himalayan region of India and Nepal - primarily in communities not on the radar of other International Non-Governmental Organizations due to caste make-up and remote location. There are many, many such remote regions in Nepal and the Himalaya - we saw just one. Namaste www.dzifoundation.org Gear Notes: Conquistadors of the Useless - Terray Annapurna - Herzog Breakfast of Champions - Vonnegut The Rock Warriors Way - Ilgner The Monkey Wrench Gang - Abbey Three Cups of Tea - Mortensen Notebook and paper Hacky sacks Approach Notes: The approach was the climb