"Icecapades" Part 3

With the initial scare over the group assembled near the base of the ice with very little acknowledgement of what had just happened we began construction of three ledges to be our home for the next several hours (One for packs and gear one for sitting and one for traveling between positions.). After more coffee and a little liquid courage, normally cheap whiskey but can be anything hard of the cheap persuasion. We began up the vertical ice face lovingly dubbed “Icecapades” I exchanged the lead spot for a position belaying, the person assigned in securing the rope of the leading climber during the climb. After another hour the leader signaled that he has made it safely to an anchor, a theoretically fail-safe attachment point for protection and was prepared to belay the rest of us two by two up the climb. Little incident followed the actual climb itself, there were several tenuous moments when large sections of the face we were climbing slid off and crashed down the gully below our base ledges. Needless to say once everyone had gotten their climb in and had rappelled down the choice to descend was a quick and unanimous one. At this point I felt relieved and happy that I hadn’t turned back and that I had come out period. That was until the method of descent was displayed.

The glissade that I was so worried about before became the fastest and safest way down the mountain. So one by one ice axes in hand began the three thousand foot slide down the couloir. This turned out to be one of the most exhilarating things I have ever been involved in. A wonderful and seemingly endless snow slide, with only an ice axe for a brake and somewhat of a rudder, the hike up the couloir had taken us almost 3 hours and the descent less than 45 minutes. The hike back to the snowmobile was similarly arduous to the approach the sounds of rock and ice fall becoming more constant with the slightly raised temperatures of the afternoon.
After we made it back to the trucks I with no real idea why I began plying the others for the time of our next climb into the snow covered hills of Lamoille. With second instantaneous and unanimous agreement of the day we quickly made our way to O’Carroll’s and with beers in had allowed a bit of pride into our voices. The experiences I had that day changed my perspective on ice climbing and those who take enjoyment from it as I was now one of them. None the less the whole day was one of the most intimidating, mentally, and physically exhausting days of my life. The respect I gained for this aspect of a sport I have loved for many years has opened my horizons. Never again will I say that people are crazy for doing what they love just when I myself don’t fully understand it. I now have the experience of my climbing partners, a bit of personal stamina, concentration, sheer luck, and the grace of the mountain gods to thank for that.

Eternally having the Clash in my head.

Should I stay or should I go?
Elko:
Range Tech.
GBC Resource Managment Degree Program
Lamoille
Las Vegas:
Restoration Tech.
UNLV Parks and Recreation Degree Program
Red Rocks

?

To Bolt or Not To Bolt?

So what does everyone think? Should bolts be used as a primary protection or should climbers be brought up on traditional methods before being introduced to bolts?
I have my own opinions on this topic but here is where I ask you.

Good Tunes

Listen to:
Cloud Cult
Say Hi
Stars
Really amazing music thats made me very happy over the past few days.

Icecapades Part 2

Once the entire group was assembled we stashed our snowmobile along the road, donned our snowshoes and began the trek up the side of the mountain. Our party consisted of five climbers and one photographer. The group was led by veteran Lamoille first ascensionist, my landlord Ken Hurst, our photographer Bruce Thompson a few other traveling hard men (and women) and myself. The first mile was difficult to say the least. We hiked down the side of the road to a stream we were hoping would be frozen enough to cross with ease. The winter this season has been much too warm for any snow bridges to form for our crossing. The snow had melted that the normally trickling creek was engorged to a fully fledged river. However the mountain gods were on our side, at least with the crossing, everyone made it without any real trouble and a few comical moments (try crossing a river in snowshoes). We slowly ascended the western bank of the creek and began bushwhacking through a thick stand of fledgling trees and brushy debris. On a dry summer day this would have been only a slight annoyance, but today in deep snow with 60 pounds of gear on our back, the brush was a nightmare. Clearing the trees we had the first clear view of our objective and the conditions of the route in front of us.
The photographer was first in the line breaking trail through the snow. (The first member of the party “breaks trail” to create a tamped hardened path through the snow for the rest of the party.) His progress was slow and the climbing was steep. Slips and falls were common. Our photographer was the first to succumb to the difficulties of the hike when he re-injuring his knee still sore from a recent accident on a previous climb. There was no safe way to turn back at this point with the closest vehicle three plus miles in the other direction and a storm looming in the not so distant future. He decided to just take up the rear and became our “sweeper” (The last person in a group, they make sure everyone is accounted for.) position and I took over breaking trail. Being the least experienced with steep snow and mid-winter conditions this was quite an intimidating task. We continued beyond the trees and slowly descended into the couloirs. The veteran of the party quietly explained to me the chances of an avalanche occurring once in the chute, also advising the rest of the party to keep talking and noise to an absolute minimum. From that point on the only sounds we heard were the snowmobiles well below us on the road, the occasional whomp whomp whomp of the heli-ski crew thousands of feet overhead and the regular crunch of ice or rock scattering to the ground somewhere in the canyon. After several thousand vertical feet of this the climb became too steep for snowshoes and favor went to the more secure albeit more strenuous step kicking, which is exactly what it sounds like, forming steps in hardened snow by kicking downward with the foot so when weighted, the heel comes to rest on solid snow.
Each step and each pole placement was critical. Progress slowed as the snow became deep and soft in certain sections. As we crested the final neve (Commonly used as a synonym for a large amount of steep consolidated snow.) before the ice our pace slowed almost literally to a crawl. I was exhausted and now resting on somewhat flat ground had a moment where fear set in and I forgot why I had come up this mountain, why I had changed my stance on ice climbing? Why all the things I thought were once crazy or out of the question had become my desire? I was scared but I was the lead member of the party. I didn’t just have myself to think about. I had five other people to think about. So, with a disregard for my own instinct and fear, I continued upwards, counting my steps kicking ten to twenty at a time resting for a minute in between. At last after what seemed like forever we made it to the base of the wall only to be greeted by a large sheet of ice cascading down at us. That was less than a hundred feet away from our entire party. Immediately everyone stopped and put on their helmets and hoped for Mother Nature to get it all out of her system. This just reminded us that the nature of climbing doesn’t leave much room for pride or joy of the accomplishment just constant concentration and a heightened sense of awareness.

"Icecapades" Part 1

Rock Rock Rock! Hundreds of pounds of rock were flying meters away from where we all stood. Watching the slide crash through our path, had we been a few minutes slower on the approach we would have been directly under it. Such was climbing. For as longs as I remember, I’ve been a climber and have lived my life with a slightly “different” sense of danger and risk. However, there have been aspects of the sport that I have avoided. Most of these were avoided because I assumed the risk was beyond the gain. Others were (as I now know) ignorance and inexperience on my part. The day I finally got the courage and desire to attempt vertical waterfall ice climbing was one that I will always have vivid memories of. I could only imagine the sounds of rocks crashing through trees and blocks the size of motorcycles falling, exploding into a million pieces sending icy shrapnel hundreds of feet in every direction. I see now how vivid an imagination we climbers have. A day on the ice is just as safe and satisfying as climbing the most bullet hardened granite. That being said I was still intimidated and maybe slightly out of my league.
The air was cool and a slight dampness was still apparent from the previous night’s rain. The moisture and chill added to the overall feeling of being in way over my head. The smell of coffee, exhaust, and smoke were heavy and seeped into everything around me. The entire house had been up since four in the morning packing and racking (The act of organizing technical climbing equipment on the ground to allow for ease of access while climbing.); gear clinked and clanked filling the house with a cacophony of sounds that only the hardened “gear-head” has a pallet refined enough to appreciate. As the final cups of coffee were drained, the final member of our party arrived. And so began the hour long drive to a snowy crevasse within the Ruby Mountains know as Lamoille Canyon.
The drive to the canyon is one that everyone but my old -4Runner “George” enjoys; he has quite a problem making it over Lamoille Summit any faster than thirty five. After a long hour in George we all emerged at the final turn around that marked the end of George’s journey. He sputtered and died ready for a well deserved rest. We met with the others of our party and began to arrange travel up canyon to the base of the approach. The others of the party had acquired a snowmobile and began to shuttle the entire group one by one three more miles up to the base of the couloir. At the top of the climb, our goal a hundred foot tall cliff made of ice 3 miles away and three thousand feet up a steep avalanche chute. Again (and not for the last time) I had the feeling of being a very small fish in a very large pond. This time it had something to do with flying up the canyon on a questionably safe snowmobile while hauling a day or more worth of supplies all the while staring up at the weather. Ahead in the distance we saw a blanket of clouds making its way from higher up the canyon, right where we wanted to be. I thought of what my roommate always says “I only climb under full conditions”.

Trust Me and I Will Trust You.

When you really trust someone, you have to be okay with not understanding some things.

आईटी तकेस अ लोट तो त्रुल्य ट्रस्ट सोमोने, सोमेथिंग ठाट इ थौघ्त इ हद फिगुरेड आउट. अस आईटी तुर्न्स आउट इ दोन'टी इ थौघ्त इ हद ठाट इ त्रुस्तेद, बुत थ्रौघ अन एन्द्लेस अमौंत ऑफ़ दिस्त्रुस्त इ दिस्कोवेरेड ठाट इ दोन'टी एंड थे ओने इ त्रुस्तेद दोएसं'टी देसेर्वे आईटी, ठिर वोर्री ओवर माय अच्शंस वास रेअल्ली थेम प्रोजेक्टिंग ठिर फेअर्स ओवर ठिर ओवन अच्शंस. अ डबल स्टैण्डर्ड ऑफ़ एपिक प्रोपोर्शन्स. नो इ फील लिखे इ ऍम थे ओने व्हो इस बीइंग दिस्त्रुस्तेद एंड हवे गोत्तें तो थे पॉइंट ऑफ़ नोट त्रुस्तिंग म्य्सेल्फ़. ओवर वहत, ओवर थे मिस्गुइदेद प्रोजेक्टिओंस ऑफ़ ओने व्हो वास रेअल्ली ल्यिंग. दोएस थिस स्टाप में फ्रॉम लोविंग थेम.....नो नोट इन एनी वे. इ जुस्त विश थे वौल्ड बे ओपन विथ ठिर लैस एंड सी ठाट इ'म नोट थे ओने अत फौल्ट. इ'म नोट सयिंग इ नेवर टोल्ड अ लिए, बुत इ काम चलेँ इम्मेदिअतेली इ'म होर्रिब्ले अत ल्यिंग इ विश थे कोउल्ड सी ठाट एंड स्टाप थिंकिंग ठाट इ ऍम एतेर्नाल्ली सेल्लिंग सनके आयल.