dberdinka

If your friends have access to Black Hawk Helicopters as well they can come looking for me too!

Climbing at Red Rocks is not particularly technical, almost always friendly and generally moderate, I use to go there a fair bit and now find it sort of boring (and I suck!). Just to agree with everyone else you probably wouldn't regret spending a few days in Black Velvet Canyon. Yes it's popular and generally moderate but the climbing is superb. It's also more than likely freezing ass cold at this time of year. There is also some superb "adventure" climbing in some of the other canyons. Go do Community Pillar it's the ballz.

FOTH? What in the hell does FOTH mean? Acronym Definition FOTH Fool On The Hill FOTH Friends of the Harbour FOTH Front of the House (TV) FOTH Friends of Town Hall FOTH Friends of the Heroes

Oh, I forgot. Use the ducttape to make mexican lockers out of your prize ovals, at least with the belay biner. That means duct tape the gate shut after passing your rope through it. There, after 10 months of patience you now have an answer. Though of course the best solo method would be to get someone else to belay you or even get the rope to the top of the pitch.

Just ran across this thread, can't help but respond. I've used the following with good success (I never fell!). Now assuming your freesoloing a majority of the time and only want to belay a few crux sections this actually works and is incredibly simple. Only disadvanatge is you leave all your gear behind!, so bring a rope, a bunch of ovals, a bunch of webbing, you no longer use, some ducttape (it even uses ducttape) and some pro, preferrably pitons and a handful of bootied stoppers. 1) Tie rope to harness. 2) Build (relatively) bomber multidirectional anchor. Or hell at least an anchor that could sustain an upward pull. Slung tree, slung block, single piton etc. 3) clip oval into anchor. 4) Pass rope through anchor biner then girth hitch onto harness about 30' (or whatever) from tie in point. This puts you on a loop of rope 15' long. 5) climb 15'. 6) Now place a piece of gear clipped through both rope strands and add another 30' of rope to loop and repeat. 7) Eventually when you feel like soloing again, untie girthhitch, pull rope through all biners, leave your shit behind and keep climbing. (None of that building more anchors, rapeeling, cleaning jugging crap to slow you down) Obviously this isn't the one solution for everything and it's kind of expensive and trashy but it might get you through that crux bit. D

Awesome historical antedote Bryan. Thanks for posting. I found the Nav Wall to be the most intense experience I've had climbing in the Cascades. It's a bit reassuring to see that you and Doorish also found it to be pretty serious. Heck of an onsite FA!!

Yeah. Guess I needed something to say, maybe I shouldn't have.....

No doubt the guy was a real shitbag who deserved the gallows, regardless of the success of some of his economic polices. But I just love this photo. That guy was living large...

Just over fifty years ago on December 9, 1956 a DC-4 crashed into the upper flanks of Mount Slesse killing everyone on board. There was never an official attempt to clean up the resulting wreckage or the bodies of those who died. To a climber Slesse appears as a savage, threatening and terribly alive landscape. Imagine how it must appear to those whose lives are not vested in the exploration of our mountain-scapes! Their minds must reel when attempting to comprehend the chaos of Slesses’ topography. Only climbers have to presence of mind to become truly intimate with this terrible visage and as a result have become, in a very direct way, the custodians of Slesse and its unfortunate victims. On the southeast flank of the mountain lies a memorial far more intimate than the highly visible and well-known Propeller Cairn. Its history is at best vague and most likely more myth than fact. But regardless it does exist and stands testament to climbers of another era doing their best to preserve some relics of that terrible clash. I learned of it maybe ten years ago. I was on a “reconnaissance” hike, not yet endowed with the experience or confidence to actually attempt a climb of this mountain. It was late summer and the pocket glaciers below the south summit had long disappeared. The Propeller Cairn and the morainal ridge it rests on was a relatively safe place to try and relax and take in the astounding views of the myriad rock walls above. I was surprised to see motion near the base of a long spur separating the south couloir from the terrific sweep of rock below the south summit. Soon I could make out a solitary figure working it’s way down the gneissic slabs towards me, and before long I was joined by a somber man. This guy was a true “mountain man” far removed from the latte-drinking, Arcteryx-smothered, cubicle-dwelling mamas-boys that constitute a vast majority of modern day climbers. Double-welted leather boots over what were practically knee high wool socks matched with running shorts and an old flannel shirt. His face was obscured behind the most cliché aviator sunglasses, a wild beard and long greasy brown hair held back in a bandana. He was friendly enough and we struck up a conversation. Eventually I got around to asking him what he was doing up there. “Well kid I’m going to let you in on something. Today I returned human remains that had been collected by a less pious acquaintance of mine. I brought them back to the Bone Cairn.” I laughed, “The Bone Cairn, give me a break.” He sneered, shook his head in dismissal and said, “Don’t dismiss the exceptional., there is still mystery in these mountains.” I wasn’t sure what to say, I think I just sorta looked at my feet. But he was fired up and laid into a long tirade that went more or less like…. “Today after fourty years of snow, wind, rain and avalanche nature has done its best to clean up from the crash. Now all that’s left is a few scraps of tin, a landing strut half buried in gravel and the well-know propeller cairn. However this was not always the case. Climbers of the 60’s and 70’s found much, much more scattered across the area. Aircraft debris was everywhere and evidently personal effects and human remains were not uncommon. The wreck had definitely attracted “Treasure Hunters” including some looking for a supposed fortune carried aboard the plane and it is unknown how much was carted off by these looters. However even after many years evidence was still easy to come by. At some point in time climbers on their ways to various attempts and ascents collected some of this debris and carried it back to the mountain. A well protected niche in the rock far below the crash site become a shrine of sorts. Morbid, curious and ultimately respectful men created a monument where the remains of some victims could lie undisturbed in perpetuity.” “You should check it out, just don’t stay too long.” With that he turned his back and trotted off down the trail. I’ve yet to run into him again or anyone like him since. That afternoon I made my first visit to the “Bone Cairn”. I scrambled up the gneiss slabs then followed the right side of the rock spur until I was almost directly beneath the south summit. Several wet, mossy gashes cut into the spur below a long band of roofs. With careful examination I spotted a small cave or alcove in the side of one maybe thirty feet up. Easy scrambling and chimneying led up to the alcove. It struck me as both grisly and incredibly serene. The alcove was nothing more than a small, well-protected hollow in the rock wall, three or so feet in diameter, maybe five feet deep. The middle of the alcove had been packed with a loose wall of bones. There were two generally intact skulls and a few fragments of jaws wedged neatly between a collection of long bones. Fibulas and so forth. Scattered about the front of the alcove were small fragments including a few vertebrates. Beyond this wall of bones I could see a collection of other artifacts. I could make out a small pile of decaying rags, an old leather shoe and two suitcases. One of fabric ripped in half the other aluminum-like, twisted and smashed, but still latched it’s contents unseen. Already it was late in the day. It was tempting to take a souvenir but instead I left a small offering of a granola bar and hurrying back to the trailhead now very intent on reaching the car before dusk should my imagination run too wild. I’m older now. Those butterflies I once felt while laying by the propeller cairn and day dreaming of someday conquering Slesse’s shear walls have been replaced by fading memories of actual ascents, details forgotten. The excitement of the unknown replaced with the melancholy of youth disappeared. Over the years I’ve met several people who are also aware or have at least heard rumors of the Bone Cairn so I assume it’s no secret. This last summer on a day very similar to that first exploration ten years prior I found myself alone once again scrambling up the gneissic slabs below the south summit. Sure enough between my two visits several additional objects had collected near the entrance, a rusted belt buckle with a few threads of severely decay leather still attached, what I think were the frames of a barely recognizable pair of glasses and a few bone fragments that appear to be metatarsals or something similar. Certainly nothing had been removed. I sat by the entrance for some time. Sun was replaced by shade. A sharp chilly breeze swept across the rock walls. Nearby I could hear the clatter of stone fall and in the distance the occasional groan of ice straining to be released from the mountainside. The transformations of geologic time are too slow for us to perceive, Slesse was no different than it had been on my first visit. The wall of bones was no longer as orderly as it had once been, but it was clear that it would remain for a long time to come. ... I remember once summiting a peak it the Wind Rivers. I can’t remember it’s name, it’s sits between Shark Nose and Wolfs Head. The summit was a beautiful slab of solid granite. On the very top sat three or four rocks about the size of basketballs. I grabbed one and trundled it off the overhanging east face. Immediately I felt a great guilt. Who was I to disturb these rocks that had sat there for tens of thousands of year since the last ice age? From the perspective of our frenzied and fleeting lives it is too easy to forget the scale at which the inert, material and deceased exist. ...

www.Alpinist.com now offers all their articles for free on line. Limited mtn pron but still a delightful waste of time. What better way to spend a lazy friday afternoon at work?

Dream Climb: Doug Scott Route on Asgard; 30+ pitch 5.9 on perfect granite

And I was there for all 6 of them Gene. I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy........

I've always thought it was supposed to be a replica of Atresonraju in the Cordierra Blanca from the NE I believe. Striking similarity if you can find a pic. From summitpost (A much better match than FIshtail Peak) Not my editing...

Rat Man has done it all....

IT'S FUCKIN EXPENSIVE! and they have a website. They'll give you a lift up their road for some obscene sum of money. Might be nice if you want'd to do some walk in camping with the family. A couple good-looking climbs are accessed from that area (N Buttress of Grimface, Stone City Mtn) But most climbers will probably be happier just hiking up Wall Creek to access climbing in the area. It's easy and quick.

This would be cool too. 600' tall and damn steep. Sits above Craig Lakes.

1 2 3 4 5 6

Folks with more history around here than me claim that Mamie Peak and Granite Mtn have there names crossed on the USGS maps. So in fact what you are looking at should be called Granite mountain. It sorta makes sense don't you think? I know a couple people who have gone up there over the years and put up a pitch or two. Neither of them seem to remember much or have any interest in going back.

Pombo was a fat, loathsome, greasy shitbag for sure. I almost can't believe how much good news keeps piling up from all this.

Vanilla Sky WTF?

Hey Curt. The NE Buttress would be behind the tree on the righthand side of the photo. Still could be a worthy climb, though no easy way to get back to where you started. The area is definitely worth a visit.

Climb: Salish Divide- Date of Climb: 10/12/2006 Trip Report: Gene Pires and I both skipped work on Wednesday to go enjoy one last "summer" day in the mountains. A brutal thrutch got us up to the glorious high divide seperating Three Fingers and Whitehorse Mountain. Explorer-ating ensured. Enjoy! Gear Notes: chain saw, machete, agent orange Approach Notes: Thou shall suffer.

That is so sweet that you guys walked up to X-Dome in this day and age and knocked off 5 pitches onsite no bolts. I hope you spend you all your freetime cleaning it up. D

By the time Boeing gets done with 80 million they'll have a taut string connected to some empty tin cans. I'd guess that the more rugged parts of our border (i.e. North Cascades) will have a much lower level of security than say Zero ave near Sumas.

Rad didn't quite get his post right above. In fact he didn't even mention the bolts in question, probably because they are even worth mentioning (as in being kinda pointless). Obviously you can break the climb down into 7,6,5,4,3,whatever pitches and belay all over the place, but the stance at the bolts in question is not a neccesary or particularly good place to belay. After climbing the 5.9 finger crack and the slick dihedral above I've always belayed about 30' higher at a nice, exposed small stance with a great horizontal that eats gear. A short strech of face climbing leads into the dihedral in question. In total it's a 55 m pitch or so to the big ledge atop the difficulties. Replacing the bolts in unnecessary and doesn't really qualify as an "improvement" on such an old, classic route.