whirlwind Posted May 4, 2004 Posted May 4, 2004 Ok so first off I’d like to state that this weekend was my first real slog fest/ alpine climb. Now this tale all begins on Friday afternoon. Thad and I left Bellingham right around 3pm or so and reached the infamous campsite at close to 7pm. At this point in time the drinking begins. I’d like to also mention that for some reason on Friday I keep forgetting to eat, instead I coaxed the hunger demon with snacks and mountain dew, in fact the only real food I had was a burger and some fries from the drive up place on the way to Washington pass. That being said I tied one on in a hurry and it was all down hill from there, before I knew it I was 6 deep in black buetes. This is when the tap finally arrived and I started filling and drinking from a litter bottle, as far as I remember I only filled it up twice, and as a side note the Terminal gravity stuff is soooo good. I say as far as I remember because after I took a hit of J.D, I was out, not passed out by any means the lights where on but nobody was driving. Hard alcohol always puts me in black out for some reason, probably because I only drink it when I have one foot in the grave. And so the slog fest begins: The next day I wake up with a slam of the van door, thinking I must have slept in and not remembering how I got to bed, I get up and immediately jump in the driver’s seat. Thad then gives me a funny look but I just say “lets go” so we drive to the parking lot at Washington pass and this is when I actually start to wake up a little only to realize I’m still quite disorientated. So taking my time, I throw on some jorts a polypro shirt and a fleece pullover; eat a couple of breakfast bars and peanut butter-n- honey sandwiches, and down some water. We finally hit the trail at about 7:15 or so, about 5-10 minutes into it I realize I forgot my rock shoes, used a couple of choice words and headed back down trail. Thinking Thad understood my perfect pig Latin, I was quite confused when I got back to my bag and discovered Thad was no where to be found. Not really knowing where exactly I was suppose to go and tired of trying to kick steps with my $30 Costco “hiking” shoes ( which I didn’t buy for hiking in case you where wondering) I found a nice boot track behind a hand full of skiers, who at this point in time where a couple 100 yards ahead of me. Finally separating myself with the tree line, a feeling of dizziness and nausea took precedence in my belly and head. Now normally peanut butter and honey sandwiches are the shit for climbing, lots of protein and natural sugars, but this morning it seems they took a disliking to the liquid diner that still resided somewhere in my guts. Not wanting or willing to turn back I pressed on and before long found myself ahead of the skiers, kicking steps and trying not to puke. I finally decided I needed to get my bare legs out of the snow and sit down for a minute before I decorated the snow in an unpleasant bouquet of beer and peanut butter, so I trek over to the closest exposed rock about 50yrds to the left which also happens to be big enough to lie down on, and rest for a bit. Gaining a little composer I now find my self wondering where the hell Thad is and which spire he was planning on doing first. Then I notice down and to the left of me john and Craig making way up the Becky gulley, thinking maybe that’s where I should be I hang out a bit longer to see if I can spot my partner. With no luck I mentally tell Thad to fuck off and that I’m going to get up this shit with out him, because as I sat on the rock and stared at the spires I got the feeling that I just had to climb them even if it meant free soloing routes in which I have never seen or read about. Finally deciding the best course of action would be to slog to the upper most spire and work my way back down the chain. After a bit more slogging, I found myself on the south side of south early winter spire staring at Thad as he was raping off the last pitch. We both say WTF, apparently, unable to decipher my Greek, he though I got pissed and decided not to climb when I went back for my rock shoes, and so he himself decided to climb solo. So with out saying much more I drop my pack and started soloing the route he had just finished. As I got closer and closer to the summit I noticed my body was feeling pretty good and as I stood on the summit of that first spire, admiring the indescribable beauty, finally I was aware why it was I pressed on. The view simply took my breath away, and I was at peace for the first time that morning as I began to down climb. Meeting up with Thad at the bottom we traversed around and past the north spire to Lexington. On Lexington we climbed through water spots, ice spots and sections of lose rock, on marginal gear placements. Topping out in 2 fairly long pitches, we rap off our next route lie just across the gulley less than 30 yards or so. I was kind of sketched however, do to the tremendous drop off on the back side and the fact the route started at the point in which the gulley stopped and we had to slog through snow to get there. Thad seemed unfazed how ever and crossed the snow kicking steps with out much hassle, I following his boot track but punch threw into waist deep snow before long, standing there with the sensation that there was absolutely nothing under my feet. I finally pull my self out and set up a belay station as Thad traverses the rock wall down to the start of the route, and proceeds to climb with out a problem. He belays me up to him I take the next pitch, after climbing for or a few I look over and notice that the snow we had just crossed unroped was in fact, a overhanging snow bridge, in which dropped off a couple 100 feet down into the gulley. Now I’m not sure if we where over the open air with nothing but snow between us and 100 or so feet of air, followed by rock and more snow, due to the angle of view, but I quietly thanked the lord and keep climbing. Topping out after Thad lead the last very exposed traversing pitch to the summit we raped off two pretty sketchy anchors half buried in ice and snow and ended up directly under the Becky route on liberty bell. because of the cloud system we noticed that was moving in we wanted to make haste so we quickly ate and drank. Thad then stretched the rope out on the first pitch making it about 10 ft short of a full rope pitch, after a fast gear swap I lead out the next rope stretcher getting yet another lesson in rope drag 101 while I belay Thad up. We then solo the last pitch of easy climbing to the summit where we meet a couple of other guys and bask in the fact that, not only was this our fourth spire of the day, but the route it self was just simply amazing. Now the fun begins: as I mentioned before I had decided to wear jorts that morning, mostly because I didn’t know any better, the hike in was ok, climbing was good, but I’ll tell ya the hike out was quite interesting to say the least. I had the urgent feeling that I needed to get out of there as fast as possible. After trying to run/slide with no luck, I decided sliding down on my ass was the fastest way to get down the gulley. And it was before to long I was hauling ass and had to roll out of the river of slush in order to gain control. 2 or 3 slides later we found ourselves on a less vertical bank and I started running and switching leads with Thad for a bit but soon I was out front. Feeling quite eager to get out of the snow, mostly due to the sliding which soaked me from the waist down and left my hands and feet numb. Things where going ok till I tried to jump over a spot in which some poor fellow had punched throw earlier in the day. My effort left me nipple deep in snow that turned to ice around my legs in less than a min. finally I slammed my chest forward a couple of times which packed the snow and allowed me to pull my ass out. But another complication occurred, after I pulled my ass out I had virtually no feeling in my lower right leg and the left wasn’t far from being the same. It felt like when you sleep on your arm so long the whole limb is detached and has no feeling what so ever. So once again I decide the best course of action is to run in order to reduce the time I spend in the snow and produce more body heat even though this risk of injury would be higher. Amazingly enough despite their lack of feeling my foot falls remained stout. At least till I caught my foot on some ice and ended up on my back, and I swear the heal of my foot kicked my shoulder, with a loud pop from the knee and a sharp pain from my ankle I jump up out of the snow and stood on my good leg for a few seconds in order to assess the damage. After a few painful steps down the trail I say to my self “fuck it” and start running just as Thad says something about “maybe now you’ll take it a little more easy”. I did go a bit slower, though still at a decent jogging pace, I kept this pace till we could smell/ hear the road. At which point in time we both walked the rest of the way out to the van where warm clothes beer and food awaited our return. It was just a little after 7pm when we started the drive back, making our days adventure nearly 12 hrs long. Quote
chucK Posted May 4, 2004 Posted May 4, 2004 Holy shit! I had no idea I was brushing shoulders with greatness all weekend! Quote
EWolfe Posted May 4, 2004 Posted May 4, 2004 That's a great TR Wirlwind. BTW? The next day, his legs looked like he had slid down a cheesegrater and then layed in the sun for 8 hours. Quote
cracked Posted May 4, 2004 Posted May 4, 2004 Gorts are NOT goretex. You know not of what you speak. Quote
chucK Posted May 4, 2004 Posted May 4, 2004 Can't you guys start your own damn thread about pants and leave this one alone Quote
Roger Posted May 4, 2004 Posted May 4, 2004 Mr. wind specifically mentioned his 'jorts' twice, so I think we're still on topic. But if this turns into an ugly jorts vs. gorts debate, we should probably take it to spray. Quote
Dru Posted May 4, 2004 Posted May 4, 2004 Gorts are NOT goretex. You know not of what you speak. they aren't cutoffs either Quote
Thadsboner Posted May 4, 2004 Posted May 4, 2004 That about sums it up (and amazingly readable by whirls standards) but you forgot to add the fact one of the prime motivators for quick belay changes and rappels was the terrible rumblings in my stomache from the breakfast porter. Gas so bad and stank that even Mr.T would pitty the fool who shared the belay stance with me! This also worked to my advantage too, i have never seen anyone so eager to jump onto manky tat as he was, good tester I guess. And jorts are Jean Shorts, jorts. Right? Quote
whirlwind Posted May 4, 2004 Author Posted May 4, 2004 mr. wind that rocks and fits in so many ways, for i had pretty bad gas as well probly from all the btw thanks fellas Quote
catbirdseat Posted May 5, 2004 Posted May 5, 2004 Welcome to alpine climbing. A very entertaining and unusually lucid TR for Mr. Wind. Quote
Winter Posted May 5, 2004 Posted May 5, 2004 But what about the puking, spew, chunks and hurling?! Come on .. no post drinking TR is compelte without some projectile upchucking. Extra points if you puke on your P. Quote
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