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Dru

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A few years back I went up to Banff for some ice climbing for the first time with some other dudes. Our second day there we were going up the icefields pkwy for a climb and we followed some other guys out of Lake Louise but we all missed the turnoff and we got down to where we started to see the beer climbs and realized we were off. We turned around and headed back and found the turn. Early on the parkway I saw the sign saying "no services for 50 km" or something and I figured I was ok with just under a quarter tank. I was in awe of the surroundings and the cold as drove the parkway to the point where you come to the gas station. Of course it was closed for the season but my gas light hadn't come on and we were with another car so all was ok. We climbed Two O Clock falls and marveled at the Indian ceremonial grounds and had a great time. Got back to the car early afternoon and decided to check out Lady Wilson's Cleavage before we left. My gas light was on at that point, but I figured I had a gallon and a half left and I figured out the mileage and thought we'd be ok so we sent the other car away and checked out Lady Wilson's. Sure enough on the way back, we ran out of gas about 15 miles from Lake Louise. We were all pretty quiet as we coasted to a stop and put all of our clothes on and watched the sun drop below the mountains. It was right arond zero and very quiet and still. We waited for about 20 minutes before we saw our first car and it was heading in the right direction. We flagged them down and asked for a ride for one of us, but they told us a tow truck was behind them aways and would be here soon with gas. Cool, and in about 15 minuted a tow truck did come by and the guy was nice and pulled out his gas can and said "oops". There was only about a cup and half of gas or so. We put it in the car and he said he'd follow us back to town. We cranked the heat on the way back and made it back to Lake Louise for a night of storytelling.

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Good story VeggieB I too found out how far my car can drive with no gas coming back from Rampart Creek last winter. The tank was reading E with light on all the way from saskatchewan Crossing to Louise, i figuredfer sure we were gonnsa cough and die and i would have to hitchhike 50k to get gas or siphon off a passing vehicle. cantfocus.gif

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As a follow-up to my previous story, let me tell you about when Diana and I went for round 2: skiing at Railroad Pass.

 

We drove up to Pemberton on Friday after Thanksgiving, and this time I figured I didn't need to impress her so we slept in the back of the truck Friday night. As could have been anticipated, we breathed a little too heavy and the canopy dripped condensation all night. She was NOT impressed. Saturday morning, we drove up to Railroad Pass to go skiing, and the road was poorly plowed -- there was at least a foot of new snow on the roadway at the pass and we had to dig out a spot where we could park off the roadway and go skiing. Despite the fact that there was about three feet of snow on the ground, and it snowed all day, there really wasn't enough snow in the woods and we had claw our way through brush and a couple of times we had to take the skis off and crawl. We managed to climb about a thousand feet up the ridge to where it starts to become a little gentler, but we never made it to timberline and we never got any views. It sure was cold at our lunch stop, though. This was real NW ski mountaineering and Diana was NOT IMPRESSED. We got back to car before dark (thank god) and I figured we could still have some adventure and hey, honey, how about we go over to Bralorne and see about this old mining area. She was worried because I'd refused to fill the gas tank in Pemberton and the road was pretty snowy. But I wanted some adventure, god dammit, so off we went.

 

Driving to Bralorne really was an adventure. After a few miles, we turned right where it said "Red Owl Pub --> " but there were no more signs after this and the road forked many times. There was almost two feet of powder snow on the road, and it was drifting up over the windshield as we went; it was damn near impossible to tell which was the main road whenever we reached a fork or turn (sometimes I'd get out and scratch the ground to see if I could tell which was "newer" gravel--and apparently I guessed right each time). Diana was worried about the gas tank and about getting stuck, but we drove for what seemed like hours and finally, as I was beginning to get nervous, we rounded a small canyon and there it was: the Red Owl Pub. We had found Bralorne. We went inside and ordered some soup and started drinking beer.

 

We were quite a hit at the bar. Apparently they don't get many visitors there, because a logger-looking guy came over and asked where we were from. "Seattle? Really? The last time somebody came -- they came on a motorcycle...and they were from Salt Lake City!!!" So we proceeded to hold court as one after another of the regular patrons cycled through our table, asking where we were from and telling us about how they were keeping the town open and they hoped to be first in line for all the loot when the gold mine reopened – sure to be next year. One guy in particular, an old Austrian, told lots of stories and amused us with his lapses into German that were more and more common as he got more and more drunk. And then somebody came along and ushered him out and told us "he's really a nice guy." We wondered if perhaps he was a old WWII war criminal or something because they seemed very protective.

 

When the bar closed, we drove down to Gold Bridge and here is where I really blew it. I insisted that rather than getting a room in the hotel we would once again sleep in the back of the truck. It rained very hard, and again the canopy dripped all night, and Diana was REALLY NOT IMPRESSED!!! But after a warm breakfast, we set off down the road to Lillooet and I was redemeed through events that were (almost) entirely beyond my control.

 

The road around -- what is it? Carpenter Lake? -- is pretty rough. In spots it traversses landslides about five hundred feet above the lake, and on this occasion the road was 1/4 or ½ gone in some of these spots. We drove past the dam, entered a canyon, and all of the sudden there was a pile of rocks in the road in front of me. Wham!

 

I got out and inspected, to find that I'd blown a tire and bent a rim. No problem. I got the tire tools out and, started jacking up the truck, and the jack wouldn't go high enough. Problem. Well not really, because I piled rocks under the transfer case or something and then put the jack on a rock and continued. Then I went to get the spare tire down from beneath the truck. The lowering mechanism wouldn't budge. Problem. Now we were stuck, 20 miles out of Lillooet, with no spare.

 

Soon enough, some ice climbers came along and parked a couple hundred yards away. It turned out that we were parked right below Salmon Steaks, and they said that if we were still there in six or eight hours, they'd help us. I set up a stove on the tailgate and we cooked some coffee and started in on a picnic. A logger came by, and he had all kinds of tools including a ten pound sledge and a BIG wrench. But he broke his wrench trying to free our tire. He left. Another logger came by, and he had a radio that could reach his dispatcher. The dispatcher called the guy from the tire shop, who was home in bed with the flu, watching a hockey game or something. They said he'd be out there to help us in about two hours. Sure enough, the guy showed up and he had the boltcutters needed to free our spare. Then he followed us back into town (just made it, running on fumes by this point), straightened our rim, and sent us on our way. The bill? $100 Canadian.

 

We drove back to Seattle, and we agreed that it had been a fun adventure. Diana loves to tell the story of being treated like VIP's at the Red Rooster Tavern, and how everybody was so nice when we were stranded in the canyon. It had been a grand adventure, allright, but that was the last time I got Diana to go on a ski camping trip. Maybe this year.

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Me and a buddy Pat were climbing at Peshastin Pinnacles. It was the end of the day and as we were heading back to the car we heard a faint, "heeeeeeeellllpppppp". We followed the sound and found a hefty/large guy stuck halfway up a wall without a rope shocked.gif. What happened was he had a big runout on a 5.9 and couldn't climb up or down. So he untied and dropped the rope to his buddy who had no clue what he was doing either hellno3d.gif. Anyways we got em down with a rappel from the side and a pendulem across. Then his wife bought us dinner in Leavenworth! cheeburga_ron.gifbigdrink.gifYippee! Good Times.

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Descending Tenaya Canyon... Only small bits of climbing and bouldering along the way, but one of the better days I've had in Yos.

 

Dropping into the canyon. We took a longer way starting at Tenaya lake rather than the traditional start from Olmstead. This is right at the base of the Megaslab on the N side of Clouds Rest.

Tenaya3.jpg

 

The pic doesn't capture it, but this slot canyon is unbelievable.

Tenaya5.jpg

 

total time from Tenaya lake to the Ahwahnee: 6.5 hours.

Edited by glen
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