dberdinka

After eating a large serving of humble pie, I guess I'll be off to join the summitposter gang. Have a nice day!

Ok, I'll go ahead and put myself in the firing line here. So based on the AP article I can surmise (is that a word?) the following. Day 1 (Thursday April 4th) Sea level to 10,000' Day 2 (Friday April 5th) to 14,500' Day 3-4 (Sat-Sun 6th and 7th) to 16,000' Day 5 (Monday April 8th) to 18,008' Ok, so they all lived at 7,000+ feet, skied and climbed hard above that regularly. The weather was probably great (rarely on Elias in April?), so they chose to go for it (speed equals safety being the latest buzzword). Anyway you cut it that is a really fast rate of ascent. How safe was it? I would GUESS! that they were performing at less than optimal levels due to a lack of acclimization. Considering they were climbing and trying to ski down technical terrain that MIGHT have been near their limits ("It was survival skiing" was the quote in the Sunday paper) under optimal conditions. MAYBE (obviously?) they pushed it a little far. Fire away boys!

Ok, even the last rewrite was bound to piss someone off. Let it be forever expunged. Sorry Chuck. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX [ 04-16-2002, 01:49 PM: Message edited by: dberdinka ]

Maybe this was beat into the ground a long time ago..but Wotan's got me thinking As excellent as Mr. Nelson's first book was, the second is by all means the worst "select" guide book I've ever seen. What is all that crap? and how did it get selected? The intros were never proof-read and seem to be lifted in chunks directly from the first. Worst of all whats with the REI model doing the hanging rappel of Pinnacle Peak? where's his pack? or is he going superlight? So to compare the Nelson's 1 -to- Becky's 10 ratio you'd need to take Fairly's old guide, count em up, add a few more and do your math. Dru, you going to handle that?

I own an old Black Diamond butt bag. It is buried in the bottom of a gear box somewhere. Basically, I never thought it increased my comfort level at hanging belays. It took some of the pressure off the leg loops, but created additional pressure points by smashing anything on my harness against my body. Carabiners, nut tools, etc. don't feel very good digging into your hip. [ 04-12-2002: Message edited by: dberdinka ]

If you choose to go to the most crowded route in Red Rocks on a weekend, one that attracts more than it's share of less-than-competent parties due to its classic stature, easy rating and solid pro, I think you should probably just suck it up, take it easy and deal with the waits unless you're given permission to pass. Basically you're there (hopefully) to have fun, just like everyone else. Climbing over, under, on-top-of and around other parties (particularly without belay ledges) is rarely fun for anyone involved unless your ego needs some bolstering. To solve the problem, get up earlier! (though you'd probably need to bivi to get dibs on that route) or pick something harder, remoter, or less classic. On Wednesday, March 27th my buddy and I showed up at the base of the same route to find ourselves 11th and 12th in line. We immediately bolted about 10 minutes away to Ginger Buttress where our only company that day was a big horn sheep. Great climbing on a fine line. On the hike out we ran into #7 and #8 on CC who spent 4 hours climbing and waiting on the first 2 pitches before bailing. Pretty harsh considering they started their walk in at 4:30 AM!

Whats the deal erik? We can practically smell that negative vibe of yours all the way up here (or maybe its just that lingering odor of T-town in its heydays). If you ever lived here what happened? Couldn't get a real job? Or are you just envious of the one region that has (so far) managed to escape inclusion in the ever growing Pugetopolous?

The standard route (east side I think) is a wonderful little climb on granite equal in quality to anything in the Washington Pass area. I remember it being 3 pitches and about 5.6-5.7 though generally easier. The route is fairly obvious with the final short pitch climbing up (and down) the very exposed "ear" that forms the summit. Bring a small rack. If it were 4 hours closer to the road it would be as crowded as the Becky Route on Liberty Bell.

A friend was in there through last Friday. Drove to gate and hauled sled from not far beyond. Seems to match Necronomicons beta. Have fun.

Hey Dru, I was just trying to think of this 10a near the Purina Crags thats has 3 (?) stars in the guide book. Existential Exit sounds right. I recall it being an excellent route, steep and spicy compared to most crack climbs in the area at that grade. While not really off the beaten path "The Bone" on lower Castle is definitely exciting and is a great link up to the south face of Jello Tower and Midway Direct-Direct. Spaghetti Sauce might be the best 5.8 anywhere with friction, to layback, to stem to jam to chimney. Fun!

I'm always drawn back to the Wind Rivers. The climbing is excellent but the remoteness, easy approaches, beauty of the landscape, the abundant wildlife and the lack of crowds have always made trips there special. The 18 hour drive across southern Idaho tends to be a little harsh though. http://www.ac.wwu.edu/~berdind/gallery/images/gallery3_lg.JPG

Unless you need multi-second exposures consider a monopod. They are light and cheap! You can even find trekking poles that do double duty. A monopod can give you about a 2-stop decrease in minimum shutter speed. Meaning you can shoot with a 24 mm lens at 1/8 a second vs. the traditional 1/30 or with a 50 mm lens at 1/15 a second vs. 1/60. In shadowy canyons or alpine faces that can be difference between a fuzzy shot and a sharp one. Of course it only stabilizes your shooting, you still have to hold onto the camera. A very nice monopod will run less than $100 and a good one is way cheaper than that. Check www.bhphotovideo.com

I'm just day-dreaming at work. Anyone out there ever climbed/attempted to climb one of those killer looking routes on the north side of Fury. Fill me in, fill us in. Give us a trip report. How was it. Any recommendations on logistics? Peace. For kicks: My one attempt at getting to Luna Lake ended with my partner spilling a pot of rolling-boiling water in his crotch. His long underwear did a great job of retaining the heat, and while I didn't inspect it myself he evidently had a pretty nasty burn where the sun don't shine. We, particularly he, spent the next day hobbling 12 miles out in the pooring rain. Suck.

Will Strickland -- Once again a voice of reason...

Well at least you got close enough to see it!

I second Will. After using/stealing my roommate's on a number of occasions the BD Raven is the perfect balance of weight, durability and functionality for an all-around axe. I actually own an Grivel Air Tech Racing ($55 from Telemark-Pyrenees). It's definitely lighter making it great for alpine rock climbs where the axe is a grudgingly carried neccessity, but for all around use, tromping up volcanoes, climbing steep snow couliors or whacking the occasional piece of ice the BD will be better.

Around Highway 542, Mount Ruth and the West Ridge of The North Twin Sister see lots of repeats. They are both excellent, modest day trips that just kind of grow on you. I like to spend time in Darrington and have been drawn back to Dreamer and now Safe Sex (its great!) many times. The approach, ambiance and climbing are worth repeating in spring, then summer, especially fall.... Up at Washington Pass The Southwest Ridge of S Early ("the other arete") is an excellent climb that I always look foward to as is the West Face of North Early and the East Face of Lexington. While I haven't repeated it I look foward to heading back to the Nw Face of Liberty Bell as well. I think all these climbs offer a nice consistent experience from beginning to end with sustained climbing at their respective levels, a pleasant but interesting approach and LOTS! of good memorys. Oh, they also offer a bivouac in the comfort of my bed or truck. Nice.

On Skagit Gneiss found on the likes of Eldo, Forbidden, Goode, Black, etc., I've found you can get by with very little. I usually bring about 4-6 stoppers (every other size to an 11 or 12), 2-3 small to medium Metolius 3-cams (#1, #3, #5) and 2 hand size hexs. Throw in 4 shoulder slings with biners, some extras of both and some belay stuff and you're good to go. 1-2 pickets might come along if there is some significant glacier travel or lots of steep snow. Generally bring an 8mm rope and double it up if anything really serious comes along and simu-climb single strand. Maybe a little sketchy, but...I'm still alive...I think.

Hey jstreet, I was one of the many bafoons running around the area. How'd you guys make it home? Did the keys appear?

Long live the Ex-Bellingham climbing brothers!! You know who you are. Peace.

BELLINGHAM Lots of good rock climbing no more and no less than 2 hours away (Sqish, Index, Darrington, etc) Lots of good mountains no more and no less than 2 hours away (N Cascades, Chilliwack, Coast,etc) Lots of good skiing no more and no less than 2 hours away. (Baker, Washington Pass, etc.) Lots of rain no less than 2 hours away. Haaah! Lots of good food no more than 5 minutes away! Yummy! [ 02-28-2002: Message edited by: dberdinka ]

I can't stop! So much weirdness!! AAaaaaghh! Ok, so this isn't really my story but it's a good one, I think this guy got sick of me asking him to tell it. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Again, quite a while back, say ten years ago, two buddies of mine Steve and Clark took off to traverse the Picket Range. Like everyone they were going to hit it all, so there packs were loaded down with rock gear, ice gear and 10 days of supplies. Needless to say they were heavy. The weather was a mix of good and bad, and after summiting Challenger they head down into Luna Cirque intent on the North Rib of Fury. Just as they start down, Clark dislocates his knee in a stretch of talus. Swollen to the size of a cantalope they know they're screwed. Steve shuttles the packs down into the basin were they spend the last beautiful night of the trip. The next day begins with a low ceiling of grey clouds and a light drizzle. Unable to climb up, they start bushwacking down Luna Creek. and bushwacking, and bushwacking,........and bushwacking. On the morning of the third day they finally hit the Big Beaver Trail. By now the weather has turned to the worse. A constant cold rain has fallen for days. Low on food, Clark takes whats left and Steve cruises out to the road to arrange a boat shuttle for the next day. Still unable to put much weight on his knee, Clark hobbles down the trail using a large branch as a crutch. It's 12 miles to the lake and the rain isn't stopping. Step, step, step......step. Evening approaches, in the gut of the valley it gets dark early. There is no one within 15 miles. The headlamp comes out and he continues to hobble down the valley. Step, step, step. By 10 PM the rain is falling harder than ever, Clarks exhausted, the headlamp is on it's last legs too, casting a feeble orange glow that flickers in and out. But he only has a mile or two left. Resting against a boulder he listens to the drumming of the rain. RRRRRRRaaaaaaaaarrrrggGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!! From across the river this enormous, throaty scream rips loose and fills the valley. Clark later describes it as being angry, pissed, coming from something huge. Some beast in the forest soaking wet voicing it's frustration. With out hestiation, Clark leaned up on his stick and continued to hobble out, step, step, ..step. Like someone else said, Sasquatch is nocturnal! Scary!!!

One more It took me two trips to the Valhalla Range to climb the South Arete of Gimli. Both times the area was very dry, quiet, still. It's hard to explain but it certainly has a very desolate, melancholy feel to it (this was before it's recent explosion in popularity). On the first trip my partner was wigged out by this atmosphere I described and we bailed a few pitches up and headed out. On the second trip we hauled bivi gear into the flat bivi area near the route's base and climbed it that day. On the final summit ridge my partner stepped onto a 2000+ pound block that immediately started sliding. After surfing it for a foot or two he hopped off. The thing acclerated before taking a 1000' plunge to the talus (and trail!) below. But that wasn't the weird part. That afternoon we're hanging out near our camp. It's just compact dirt and heather with a few boulders strewn here and there on the top of a broad ridge Sleeping bags, bivi sacks clothing are strewn about in the sun. We're sitting about 30' away from the stuff. Again it's perfectly still, quiet, lonely. I feel the lightest brush of wind against my cheek and suddenly all that gear is floating straight up into the air. A pile coat, full sleeping bag, bivi sack are just elevated like 10 feet straight up in the air, flapping about like they're trying to fly. My buddy is running around under the bivi trying to grab it but it stayed out of reach for a good 5+ seconds before drifting back down. If it were some sort of micro gust it packed an incredible amount of energy and focus. Never felt a breeze again that day.

Many years ago I spent a cold dark evening in the Blue Lake parking lot. It was late in the year when the morning chill hangs around till afternoon if it doesn't refuse to leave at all. My girlfriend at the time and I drove up to camp out at the trailhead. We arrived late, probably 10 o'clock. Being October traffic was light to non-existent on the highway. As we sat on the tailgate brewing some tea it was eerily quiet and still. There was no sound, no movement. Not even the whisper of a slight breeze or the humm of an insect. Just the silhouette of tall trees outlined by the faint glow of a moonless sky with a cold mist crawling through their branches. We felt small and exposed. And without notice the trees began to shake violently, a strong wind ripped through the parking lot, blowing my pot of the tailgate and knocking branches to the ground. As quick as it came, it was gone again. Once again the trees, the night, the air were perfectly still, perfectly quiet. No sooner had I walked over to pick up the pot, that a bone-chilling wail came shrieking out of the forest. Not a bark, not a growl, not a howl. Instead a deep, warbling cry that reeked of loneliness and pain. Then once again we were surrounded by a silent, motionless night. We crawled into the canopy locked it from the inside and slept a dreamless sleep.

Stonewabbit?