Seattle Climbers

[TR] The Tooth – June 25th, 2011

Posted on June 27, 2011 by Dylan Vanderhoof

Its been a lazy spring, with pressures from work and moving keeping me from spending much time climbing. I guess it was kinda expected, but I’m still extremely disappointed with my fitness level right now. Since we’d planned on doing some climbing over the 4th, Ryan and I headed out to Snoqualmie Pass to make a run at The Tooth as a warmup. I’d only ever attempted it in the dead of winter, so I was looking forward to a relatively mellow (supposed to be 5.4) climb.

The snowpack is surprising considering its almost July. Our late snows and coldish spring have left a long lingering deep snowpack for nearly the entire approach. Source Lake Basin will felt like early spring and I was nervous we were going to have snow on the route still. The snow bridge leading into the notch south of Pineapple Pass was only a mere 8″ wide at this point, with a 20′ drop onto rock to the right should it blow. I’m guessing it’ll only be around for a few more days before people need to find a way around the snow tongue that’s still blocking that gulley.

Fortunately, once we reached Pineapple Pass, it was clear that the route was nicely snow free. The weather was a bit cloudy and looked like it might even be getting worse, but we decided to run up it anyways. Since we got a late start, the only other parties we saw for the day were on their way down, so we more or less had the route to ourselves for the duration of the climb. Unusual for an alpine trade route so close to Seattle.

Ryan led the first two pitches, linking them into a single pitch for efficiency’s sake. Apparently the rope drag was bad, but manageable. I followed with a pack, which I hadn’t done for a while, I forgot how obnoxious that can be. Even so, the first couple pitches went fairly quickly and were easy to follow despite Ryan’s consistently trying to find the hardest of any two options to get up the wall. =)

We re-reacked at the top of the 2nd pitch while a WAC party rapped past us, then I took over the lead for the last couple pitches. I’d intended to link the two, as the 3rd pitch was nearly all class 3 – 4 with a couple low-5th class moves just before the belay, but it was clear that rope drag was going to be an issue so I belayed Ryan up before taking off to lead the last pitch.

I’m still not entirely certain where the actual 4th pitch goes. I followed a flake system generally up and to the left to a large ledge and found a nice rightward facing corner crack that led to the summit. At that point I was very glad to not be dealing with rope drag issues, as I was expecting a 5.4 climb. Either way, the last few moves were fairly straightforward if a bit awkward.

We’d lucked out on the weather, the previous parties were almost entirely socked in for the whole climb, but since we decided to sleep in we caught a nice break in the clouds at the summit for a decent view.

Since we only had a single 60m rope, the rappels took a while. I’m not convinced I’d use double ropes to rap the actual route, there’s a lot of rope-eating features on that face. However, a double rope would’ve been very nice to rap off Pineapple Pass since it would allow a bypass of the higher angle snow and a much more rapid descent.

In the end, we were about 9 hours and 45 minutes car to car. Far from a speed record, but given the lack of practice and being out of shape, I’m actually pleasantly surprised.

Next weekend, off to Washington Pass!

Me contemplating the soon to be broken snow bridge on the last approach gully. It held, for now. (Photo by Ryan Cronk)

Looking back down at Pineapple Pass from the top od the 2nd pitch belay. Ryan linked these two together. (Photo by Ryan Cronk)

Me leading the scrambly section of the 3rd pitch. Its almost not worth a belay, and indeed we probably could've moved the belay higher if we wanted but I didn't feel we were particularly pressed for time. (Photo by Ryan Cronk)

Me starting the lead on the 4th pitch flakes. (Photo by Ryan Cronk)

Pitch 4 rope line heading up to the 5.7 notch just below the summit. I believe the standard easy route is somewhere off to the right. (Photo by Ryan Cronk)

This climb had rap tat EVERYWHERE. If a tree could hold bodyweight, it had slings on it. This was one of the more amusing examples, I don't even want to think about what some of the force multiplication on this was, but it connected to something like 6 different points, so it seemed safe enough to rap from. (Photo by Ryan Cronk)

Posted in Alpine Rock, Trip Reports | Leave a comment

Defeat, Demoralization and Direction – Lessons Learned Attempting Town Crier

Posted on April 24, 2011 by Dylan Vanderhoof

Our grand plans to send a 7-pitch Grade IV aid wall came to a stop almost as soon as we’d started. The plan was to head up to Town Crier on the Upper Town Wall mid-day on Friday, fix the first three pitches, then come back the next day to finish up the route. We had timelines planned, equipment selected, haul bag packed and were feeling nervous but pretty good about things.

In football (soccer) there’s a saying that says, “The ball is round, a game lasts 90 minutes, everything else is pure theory.” In climbing, especially aid, you have to find some way to get from the bottom of the wall to the top; Everything else is pure theory.

The weather was cooperating, and although we had an unexpected setback in our timeline, we still felt we had time to conquer the first 3 pitches before dark, we’d just need an early start the next day. In the end, we made it up about a pitch and a half, before bailing on some gear and retreating, realizing there was no way we were going to meet our objective.

The first pitch took much longer than expected, the belay transition to the second pitch took much longer than expected, the rock’s condition (wet and slimy) was worse than expected, the climbing was harder than expected, and in the end the wall was a much bigger undertaking than we expected.

I’m not going to go into all the details, they aren’t that important right now, but suffice to say that by the time we rapped back onto the deck, we agreed that it was an important learning experience if nothing else.

Saturday Ryan and I headed back out to Index with plans to run up the first couple pitches of City Park and finish off with Sloe Children, a nice Grade III-ish aid romp up the Lower Town Wall to practice swinging leads on a more accessible wall. In the end, we didn’t even set foot in an aider. Ryan’s shoulder was hurting from his lead the day before, and I was feeling dizzy and somewhat nauseous for no reason I could discern (maybe the sunlight that I’m no longer used to). I sorta wonder if those were excuses though. We were clearly completely demoralized from the colossal failure and once we were actually staring at the rock it was clear but unspoken that neither of us had any interest in climbing that day. Instead we enjoyed the sun and watched others crawl around the rock, wishing we were up there but not feeling up to the challenge.

So, what happened? The more I think about it, we had pretty much set ourselves up to fail. A quick list of what we did wrong before ever touching the rock:

We had hardly gotten any multipitch aid experience in at all, just single pitch. Tons of time got lost at the belay transition as a result.
We started way too late (again, not really our fault, but it cost us dearly. We needed to be on the rock at dawn)
We had varying degrees of recent aid practice relevant to the route
None of us had climbed anything free for a while (especially relevant on the first couple pitches)
We hadn’t brought rock shoes (probably wouldn’t have helped with the slimy rock, but it might have)
Another party started at nearly the same time we did (this contributed to a big cluterfuck at the anchor that would’ve been avoided had we started as early as we planned originally)
We’d never climbed aid as a group. In individual pairs we had, but never the three of us approximating what we’d be doing on the route.
We’d never climbed with this particular rack combination. (Close, but when the offset brassies or offset cams you’re used to having there, aren’t it slows things down as you get creative)
We weren’t in good enough shape (the approach cost more energy than it should have)

I could go on, but those are the big ones. Adding to the above, Ryan and I have never climbed a Grade IV anything, much less a big wall, and Ken hadn’t done anything this difficult since 2007. Realistically, there’s no way it would’ve gone with the combination of obstacles we had in front of us. I think that Green Drag-on would’ve been more likely to go, but not with the timeline we had.

So, what now? We stop feeling defeated (which I’m still guilty of) and hit the walls. We aim to climb 3+ pitches of aid in a single shot, swinging leads, in a good time. (6 hours would be a nice target, I’d take 7 hours.) We either wait for the rock to dry, or we switch to a pure-aid route like Green Drag-on.

Most of all, we don’t give up and tackle it again in a month or two, better prepared mentally and physically. It feels way out of reach right now, but I think in reality we don’t really have all that far to go.

In the meantime, we got to enjoy two gorgeous days at Index. The mountain views were stunning, we gained some much needed Vitamin D, we had a killer conditioner with a ton of weight on the way to the Upper Town Walls, and we got to map out beta for our practice line on the Lower Town Walls.

Any weekend that isn’t spent at home playing video games is a success. Maybe next time we’ll send it. If not, it’ll still be there.

Getting ready to leave the deck under Green Drag-on

Ryan belaying at the base of the route

Ken leading the first pitch of Green Drag-on

Ryan working his way into the ugly chimney on the 1st pitch of Town Crier proper

Mt. Baring showing its bunny-ear profile on a beautiful day

Posted in Aid, Climbing, Trip Reports | 1 Comment

Grade IV on the horizon

Posted on April 19, 2011 by Dylan Vanderhoof

Last weekend Ryan and I headed out to the Index Upper Town Wall to scout out the route we’d be climbing this coming weekend. After a somewhat embarrassing incident involving missing the main trail and bushwhacking up a 45 degree slope, we found ourselves at the base of Town Crier, our target for the weekend. Its humbling to stare up at a sheer wall of granite like that and think that you’re actually going to attempt to climb it in just a few days.

Last night we had a gear and route planning meeting. This is somewhat new really, previous when I wanted to climb something, I’d throw the rack in the car and off we went. That doesn’t work so well for a climb that will span two days and involves fixing lines and backing off to come back for the send on the second day. We discussed which pitches might go free (Ryan’s lead on the 2nd pitch), which are definitely aid (everything else), and what order we should climb in.

There’s a lot to think about that I wouldn’t normally even consider. I figured I’d toss out a few of the interesting items we discussed that were out of the ordinary for a day-long free climb (Grade III).

Water: A gallon per person per day means 24 lbs of water alone. Its probably overkill, but the worst thing we could do is run out while we’re up there.
Food: Be courteous to the hauler and bring dense food that’ll survive the trip up the wall. (Sandwiches, energy bars, etc)
Nailing gear: TC goes clean, but only with fixed gear. If any of that comes out, we’ll need to replace it. A wall hammer, a few pins, and some copperheads go into the bottom of the bag as a last resort. What a difference from free climbing that is! I’m sure we won’t need them, but if we do, we’ll be very glad to have them there.
Large gear: With the free routes we’ve done, the lead rack is the lead rack. This time we get to throw some large #4 camalots in the bag and probably just leave them there. If we need one though, its easy enough to have it tagged up.
Hauling: 1:1? 2:1 w/ a ratchet? 3:1? We’re basically doing two days of day aid, so no need for mechanical advantage. If we need an assist, just stick and ascender and aider on the haul line and use body weight to bring it up.
Body Waste: Yeah, about that… Just hope you don’t have to go while on the wall, but if you do, best be prepared. (The part of wall climbing nobody likes to talk about)
Technique: Free, or aid? Free is faster, but none of us is an Index 5.9 free climbing right now, and we’ll probably be climbing in sturdy approach shoes, with aiders and ascenders and tons of other heavy, bulky and awkward gear. Switching from ascending to “freeing” a class 4 slab last weekend was terrifying simply due to the amount of rope drag and my wall ladders trailing off my harness. I plan to aid all my leads, I’m far more comfortable at it.
Routefinding: We have beta, but it doesn’t always agree. Particularly the pitch that’s my first lead (pitch 3 roof). Some beta says to traverse to a fixed pin, then pendulum or tension traverse to a crack on the left. Some beta says turn the roof using cam hooks and micro pro. I suppose that’s the difference between C1+ and C2? I’m told the aid grades in Index are soft, if we’re going to climb in The Valley later this year, might as well push now. I guess we’ll see how I feel when I’m sitting on that fixed pin.

Truthfully, I’m nervous. This is a far bigger undertaking than we’ve done before. It’ll be long, slow, and demanding. Its not technical in the way free climbing is, but every piece of gear has to be placed, tested and weighted. Organization becomes key.

And, come Saturday when we’re hanging 400-500′ off the deck on the side of a sheer granite face, all the planning becomes theory and you just advance, one piece, one hook, one bolt at a time.

I can’t wait!

Looking up at Green Drag-on (left) and Town Crier (right)

Town Crier's 2nd pitch flaring chimney, and the 3rd pitch roof (the party above us is turning the roof)

A closer look at the 2nd pitch chimney

Posted in Climbing | 2 Comments

[TR]: Vantage – Getting back on the ropes

Posted on March 14, 2011 by Dylan Vanderhoof

Sometime last week this unshakable feeling that I HAD to get back on the rock this weekend afflicted me. Other than a lot of time in the gym, and some bolt ladder practice on the side of a building, I hadn’t climbed a thing since our ill-fated run on Saints last October, and it was more than time. After some emails bounced back and forth, some potential scheduling issues, and the decision that we’re going despite the sketchy forecast, the decision was made to head out to Vantage for the weekend.

Saturday’s forecast looked tolerable (50% chance of showers, less than 1/10th of an inch of rain), so we planned to do a few mellow sport routes on Sunshine Wall, then head back to the The Feathers to chill with some friends who were leading a Mountaineers Basic SIG on their first rock outing.

Despite to cold and forecast, there were a surprising number of people on the trade routes over on Sunshine. We waiting for a party to finish on The Chossmaster, the Tyler headed up for the first lead of the season and sent it in excellent form. I headed up second on TR, wearing my approach shoes to see how they climbed. The verdict? Not bad, but they don’t edge for shit. I think I’ll stick to rock shoes for free climbing 5.6 or stiffer. They’re great wall/aid shoes though! Chris headed up and cleaned our long route for the day and we moved on to other pillars.

I’d planned to lead Vantage Point, since I haven’t led that one since just after I started climbing outdoors and wanted a rematch, but there was a party on it and we didn’t feel like sticking around. Chris suggested Peaceful Warrior, and excellent 5.6 chimney/arete climb that I’d never done before. Lovely lead, and a very aesthetic if short little pitch. I’d do that one again.

Sunshine was getting busy so we wandered over to Zig Zag intending to do The Jagged Edge, but of course it had a couple parties on it as well, so at Chris’ suggestion we wandered over to the other side of the canyon where a single short bolted line hides (the name of which is escaping me right now). Ty led it quickly, as we could feel the first of the rain starting to come in. We all agreed that it felt much more like a 5.6 than the listed 5.8. (I thought Peaceful Warrior was a good deal more difficult) Still a nice little pitch and a climb is a climb.

We headed back to The Feathers after that, setup camp for the evening, and had a beerand relaxed for a bit. Afterall, we’d planned for a mellow weekend, so we figured we might as well stick with that. Afterwards we wandered up to The Feathers and I did a short trad anchor refresher class for Chris and Ty. Gear at The Feathers sucks, the cracks are rotten as hell, but it was a perfectly fine place for an anchor clinic. Since the plan for Sunday was an aid climb, I figured I should try out my new adjustable daisys (switched to Yates) and give Chris a refresher on aid cleaning. I aided Don Coyote for grins, making sure to use large hooks set back as far as possible on the ledges to avoid damaging the route. Once past the first bolt, the bolts were close enough that it could be aided by top stepping rather than hooking up the wall. (Definitely makes it feel a lot harder than doing it free!) It was dark when I got down and Chris didn’t want to clean in the dark, so I jugged back up to clean explaining the process as I went rather than having her do it.

Sunday rolled around after off and on rain all night, and a forecast predicting a 75% chance of rain. We bid farewell to the Basic SIG and wished them luck free climbing over on Sunshine. My guess is their endeavor wasn’t meant to be given the weather. Chris and I took off for Middle East wall, aid gear in tow. We were expecting an approach similar to Sunshine, so the exposure of the approach trail took us by surprise a bit, but eventually we found ourselves at the base of Lingerie, which my limited Vantage aid beta said was the nicest aid line in the area. Beautiful thin crack that started out fingertips and widened to fingers towards the top. Definitely a C1 crack, no hook moves or body weight placements at all. Goes free at 5.11d. The crack was so thin I didn’t have any cams that I could use for the first placement, so I tossed a couple opposed nuts in place, Chris got anchored in (I outweigh her by probably 100Lbs), and I headed up just as the rain started to come in. I’d never aided on gear before, just bolt ladders, so making the first move was the hardest part psychologically. Once up on the rock, everything went incredibly smoothly. Lots of small nuts for the first 25′ or so before I finally got a microcam in place. I didn’t bother to backclean for the first half of the route, but I started to get concerned I was going to run out of small gear in the upper half and backcleaned 2 pieces for every one I left in place. The crack did widen at the top, but the largest piece I put in was a .4 Camalot. After a slightly overhanging bulge, I was greeted by three huge chains (I think it lead took about 90 minutes, although I didn’t look at the clock when I started). Weighting and bouncing on all your pieces is very different feeling than free climbing trad. Its also a good learning experience. One cam I had in place seemed bombed until I bounced on it. A heard a sharp “pop” and looked up, and the cam had pulverized an unseen flake on the inside of the crack. It still held, but it was nearly fully uncammed at that point and likely wouldn’t have held a fall. Good lesson in gear and rock quality. Every other placement was bomber. The rain was nice and kept me nice and cool on a lead that was physically demanding for my aid experience level. I found myself making a lot more use of my fifi hook than I had on the bolt ladders and started feeling very comfortable with the process by the time I was 1/3 of the way up or so. Definitely a successful lead from an educational perspective, which was the whole point of the outing for me really.

I had Chris tag up my Grigri (we only had one) and rapped off the haul line to help Chris get started on cleaning the route. Once she got past the first couple pieces and figured out how best to hammer out all the welded nuts, she rocketed up the rest of the pitch. Periodically she would stop to yell, “This is awesome!” Huh. First time cleaning an aid line, in the rain, and she thought it was awesome. Clearly a sick individual. :P

It was raining pretty good by the time we got the line cleaned, and we were both cold, wet, and not feeling up for much else so we packed up and headed back out, feeling like the trail wasn’t nearly as bad as we’d thought it was on the way in. An excellent first “real” aid climb, and a successful weekend overall!

Lessons learned:

Make use of a fifi and get as high on the aiders as possible to limit the number of moves and amount of gear
Bounce test pieces hard! (Greater than body weight)
Have a sit pad for the belayer, especially if the ground is cold and wet
Make sure the belayer has their food and water handy, a lead takes a long time
Don’t carry up double #1 and #2 cams when the route beta says gear to 1″. I could’ve tagged them up if really needed, but it was unnecessary extra weight
Aiding in the rain isn’t that bad

One side note: We were told after we got back that Middle East wall is closed for raptor nesting, but I wasn’t able to confirm that anywhere. The signboard at the parking lot had nothing but bullet holes on it (Oh Eastern Washington), so we assumed we were good. I’d like to figure out if its really closed or not, since there were several other lines I’d like to hit up over there on the next trip

Me leading Peacefull Warrior

Getting ready to head up Lingerie

Aiding up Lingerie

Me at the Lingerie anchor

Chris getting ready to clean the line

Chris having a blast cleaning Lingerie

Posted in Aid, Cragging, Trip Reports | Leave a comment

Finding balance and flirting with injury

Posted on February 3, 2011 by Dylan Vanderhoof

The winter was long, cold, and unproductive. We all seemed to lose momentum at the end of the 2010 climbing season, and the last day of cragging went so poorly my motivation to get back in the gym was made even lower than usual. 3 long months went past, with little to no effort to get back off the ground. I said it was to rest my injured shoulder, but I think it was more momentum than anything else. Ryan seemed to be suffering from the same, so we weren’t pushing each other to get out and train like normal.

As soon as the New Year hit, somehow, motivation started to return. My shoulder hadn’t gotten much better, but it hadn’t gotten much worse either. We went from zero to a packed training schedule overnight: 3 days a week in the gym (or other climbing activity), 2 conditioners a week with weighted packs, and whatever general fitness we could throw in there for good measure. It felt great, my mood immediately was lifted out of its winter slump and we started talking about plans for the year and how we are going to achieve them. Evening schedules went from drinking with friends, to having something active every night of the week. In short, a perfect end to the winter.

I think, somewhere in there, I’d forgotten that I hadn’t done much in the way of activity for 3+ months. I’d gained weight, lost muscle, and worse my tendons weren’t used to abuse anymore. Last weekend saw me hopping on cross-country skis for the first time since I was 8, and doing a ~19k tour on Saturday, then doing aid climbing training for 8 hours on Sunday. Jugging free lines, leading aid lines, cleaning, practicing hooking and lower-outs, it was awesome.

At least, it was awesome until Monday rolled around. I could barely get out of bed. I cancelled Monday’s conditioner hike (nobody complained) and took a rest day to shake off the pain of using muscles long dormant, plus a few that rarely got worked at all during the past few years of mostly climbing. Feeling a little better, we hit the gym on Tuesday and started to run through the normal training circuits before being abruptly stopped by some of the worst elbow pain I’ve ever experienced. Dialing back a bit, we pushed through a few more routes before calling it and grabbing beers instead. A wise decision I’m sure, I figured it was stress from the motion of the ascenders and it’d go away after a day or so. This morning proved me wrong. Aside from my persistent shoulder pain, the elbow pain was almost as acute as it was Tuesday evening, despite climbing easier routes without much overhang. Ken pointed out (correctly) that I’m flirting with classic tendonitis. After running up a couple more easy routes, I called the morning climbing session despite only being in there for 45 minutes or so.

Its easy to forget sometimes that just because muscle is returning doesn’t mean the rest of the connective tissue can handle it. I weight north of 200Lbs no matter how fit I get, its just how I’m built. Tendon is only so strong and can only take so much abuse before it tears.

I’ve finally admitted my shoulder issue, whatever it is, isn’t going away on its own. The pain is in the upper rotator cuff, and that could be a lifelong problem if I don’t deal with it. Monday I have an appointment with an Orthopedic Physician (some one who works on the Seahawks, I figure he must know what he’s doing), hopefully I’m being needlessly concerned and I can climb lightly for now at least.

I have to keep reminding myself its only February, we have a lot of time to ramp up into the season slowly, and we’re already in much better fitness than the beginning of last year. Sometimes I don’t really want to listen to myself, I just want to push harder, but that isn’t going to accomplish much of anything. Afterall, I’d much rather have a slow start, than no season at all.

Posted in Personal, Training | Leave a comment

All together now: An exercise in Simulclimbing

Posted on September 6, 2010 by Dylan Vanderhoof

After getting weathered off yet another weekend of alpine climbing plans (I’ve decided I’m cursed), we found ourselves back in Leavenworth with the intent of doing a more skills based weekend, possibly with a larger objective come Monday if we were feeling up to it and the weather cooperated. (We weren’t, and it didn’t, so we headed back home Sunday evening)

We got a late start Saturday, so we ran up Saber again mid-day Saturday. It was Tony and Jeff’s first time on Castle Rock, so a good time was had by all. The weather was nice, and Saber is very sheltered from the persistent wind that comes down Tumwater canyon, so it felt like we were climbing in July again. Other than Jeff spending 10 minutes trying to pull a hex that had probably been fixed on the 2nd pitch for years, the climb went quickly and without any issues. We were definitely feeling the fact we hadn’t been on the rock for a month or so, so aspirations to climb Outer Space or Orbit on Monday were abandoned (at least in my head) at that point.

Sunday morning we headed up to Playground Point to get Jeff doing some sport leads. He led a couple slabby routes on the lower tier like a pro! We hadn’t climbed these before, and they were probably a little heady for first sport leads, but he did a great job. Afterwards we spent some time resting in the sun on the 2nd tier and teach Jeff the basics of gear placement and multipoint anchors.

Ryan and I had decided we needed to get Simulclimbing dialed in before we tackled some of the longer alpine routes we hoped to do. Since we both agreed that Groundhog Day (3-pitch, easy 5.7) was a nice mellow climb when we’d last done it, we decided to simul up that route as far as we wanted to go. We lost a fair amount of time trying to decide how to tie in for the simulclimb. Halving the rope led to a far too long 30m of thick rope to deal with, and bringing in the doubled rope in coils was unruly for Ryan who was going to be the follower. We finally ended up bringing in all but about 15-20 meters of rope in coils split between the two of us much like a glacier climb. In retrospect, that makes more sense anyways, since the who point is quickly transitioning from pitching out a route, to simulclimbing a few easy pitches, and then switching back. Doubling the rope would require one of us to untie from the end and butterfly into the middle, which doesn’t make sense in the middle of a route.

Despite having climbing the first pitch before, somehow I got offroute onto a blank slab part of the first pitch. Fortunately, I was still on belay at that point, since the crux of the route is in the first 30′ or so. Mentally, I just wasn’t feeling engaged for the lead, so its a good thing the terrain got easier quickly. Just after I got back on route, I heard Ryan yell “Climbing!” from down below and mentally noted that we were now in “no fall” territory. Tony noted that Ryan left the ground at about 5pm, which was good to know for later analysis. I led up past the 1st pitch chains and up easy low-5th class terrain to the 2nd pitch chains. There was a party up on the 3rd pitch anchor, so I built a quick anchor and brought Ryan up to to the belay station. We were starting to lose the sun over the hills, and I had psyched out Tony by getting offroute on the 1st pitch, so we decided to bail off at that point. We quickly converted to rappel and made the short descent back to the car.

Overall, other than my routefinding issues, the exercise went very well. We were back at the car at about 6pm, which means Ryan climbed the first two pitches, we did 2 single-rope rappels, gathered our equipment and did the descent is about an hour. Had we pitched out those first two pitches, it would’ve taken at least twice that time, maybe more. We assessed the runners and gear I had left at the 2nd pitch and decided we could’ve easily continued to simulclimb all 3 pitches without stopping to build an anchor had we not been running out of time.

While we definitely need to practice getting the transition from belaying to simulclimbing dialed in a little better, I think the experiment went quite well. The mental pressure of being in a no-fall situation throughout the climb didn’t seem to make much difference, and given my current comfortable lead level I doubt I would be simulclimbing pitches rated at 5.7 right now anyways. I’ll want to find some areas we can practice a little more, but some of the routes on our hit list (Serpentine Arete for example) have long sections of 4th class and low 5th class climbing where we could easily shave hours off of our time by simulclimbing until we reach stiffer rock again.

Maybe next time we try I’ll actually be mentally focused enough to not get off route so we can see just what the time savings would really be. I think it’ll end up being huge.

All in all, any weekend where new skills are explored is a good one. No huge climbs or big objectives met, but even if the weather doesn’t allow us to get on another alpine rock climb this season, I’m feeling very well poised for a great season come next year!

Posted in Techniques | Leave a comment

Turning back the clock on the American Dream

Posted on August 31, 2010 by Dylan Vanderhoof

I first started climbing in the gym some 5 years ago or so. It seems like a lot longer than that, but I suppose given the degree of passion with which I approach climbing, that’s not a surprise.

Way back then (hah), I was caught up in pursuit of the usual work hard, get married, buy a house thing. You know, The American Dream in all its glory. I was engaged, just put a down payment on a house with an oversized yard full of fir trees that reminded me of home despite being (sorta) in the middle of the city. The commute was hell, but at least I had a place to call my own with tons of space to work with. I’d “made it”, at least in as much as this is what I always imagined success would be like.

I promise, this is climbing related, just bear with me.

Fast forward a few years, I’m a week or so away from stopping my mortgage payments and walking away from it all. Not because I can’t afford it. I can. Not even because of how far underwater I am on the mortgage really. (And oh, how far that is)

No, the real reason is that I’ve come to realize through climbing that The American Dream is crap. How can an acre of mowed grass and a few trees measure up to the forests the winding approaches take you through on the way to a climb? What’s the point of owning a small chunk of property that I have to spend precious time maintaining when I could instead pack my backpack and scramble up to the glorious views and pristine privacy of the Cascades in less time than it takes me to mow my lawn and clean the house? What need is there for a cavernous living room and a separate TV room, when I rarely use my couch and I turn on the TV once a month?

I may someday change my mind. Maybe I’ll slow down a bit and decide there’s something appealing about all this again. Maybe I’ll get old and the mountains will become just far enough out of reach that I can’t go where I want to anymore.

But, then again, maybe I’ll spend the rest of my life climbing and die somewhere up on a glacier, be it of old age or a freak storm. I find nothing wrong with the thought that someday I may end up being killed by this thing I love, if it means I’m out there. Up there.

I think sometimes about the toast we make at the bar when we’re down from a climb. ”To cheating death!” Even after the simplest and safest of days toproping beginners at Vantage. I sometimes think the point isn’t that we cheated death in any meaningful way on that particular outing. Perhaps its more that by being there and doing something like climbing that makes us feel so alive, we’re avoiding the feeling of cheating life instead.

Occasionally, I get moments of feeling like I’ve failed at a major undertaking through this process of unwinding myself from this materialistic morass. And perhaps I have at that. But, is that feeling of failure worse than the feeling that by being here I’m cheating life instead? I think not.

Besides, once all this is done, the mountains will still be there waiting.

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[TR]: Static Point – Lost Charms (5.9) – 7/31/2010

Posted on August 1, 2010 by Dylan Vanderhoof

The original plan was to do the WA Pass linkup we got weathered off of on the 4th. Alas, once again the weather wasn’t cooperating, and the idea of getting caught in likely thunderstorms didn’t appeal. Lost Charms was on the hit list from earlier in the year when we were doing more cragging, so Ryan, Jack and I decided we were going to head out and give it a shot finally. Ken was going to come, but bailed a the last minute. Honestly, we all agreed he would’ve hated the climb. :P

Old TRs indicated significant issues finding Static Point, but I thought it was pretty straightforward. The road is now closed right at the South Shore Road by the reservoir, adding another mile of road walking and deep water bars every couple hundred feet. Expect 1.5-2 hours to reach the crag. Approach beta is excellent, there’s a large wash about (now) 2 miles in from the road closure, and just afterwards is a large abandoned culvert 1/4 full of dirt, with a climbers trail leading off to the left across the main trail. There’s also a large cairn (the only one on the trail) at the turnoff. The climbers trail climbs steeply for about 1000′ and dumps you off at Static Point.

Finding Lost Charms was a little harder. Theoretically, the trail leaves you at the base of OnLine, but we never did see the bolts for that route. Some dirty scrambling to the left leads to a point with two largeish trees on it, which is the start of Lost Charms. A 5.0 move on the approach is protected with a bolt and a fixed sling, but I’d recommend gearing up there so you have the extra security of rock shoes for the final scramble to the base of the route.

First, a word about grade. This route is listed as 5.9/5.7 A0, with clear beta that the crux (P5 slab below the Great Flake) is protected with a single french freeable bolt (it is). That said, the 5.7 A0 grade implies to me the rest of the route is 5.7 or under. This is not correct, and the topos clearly indicate a 5.8 section between The Pillar and the Bridge Flake. This route deserves a lot more respect than I originally gave it due to the grade.

We’d planned to block lead in sets of 2, so we didn’t have to untie and reorganize our tie-ins at any point. I got P1-2, Jack P3-4 and Ryan P5-6. None of us had much experience in the way of friction slab climbing, which became almost immediately obvious. Also, this whole slab is covered in sketchy flakes, some of which would likely hold and many of which are already broken. Long runouts are the norm, and scary pro is inevitable.

P1 starts out traversing up and right from Lost Charms Tree. A couple 5.7 moves on a blank slab leads to a better protected flake and crack structure before reaching a set of chains between a couple bushes on the right margin of this slab section. The chains are listed as “hard to find” in the beta, but I found them to be fairly obvious. Two quads are fixed on the anchors for some reason, which we left in place but didn’t use. The did appear to be in good condition though.

P2 is barely Class 5. Follow an up and left trending set of dirty shallow corners, aiming for the cluster of trees. I overshot the belay slightly and came up to the right of the trees, when I should have come between the middle and right tree. I set a nut as a directional about 20′ above the belay and downclimbed to the new set of chains at the base of The Pillar.

Jack was slated to lead P3/4, but we wasn’t feeling well and handed the lead off to me. P3 runs up a flake structure to the right of The Pillar. There’s little pro here, but I managed to get a solid cam in the right edge of The Pillar before traversing right onto a few unprotectable 5.8 friction slab moves before gaining the Bridge Flake. This was without a doubt the hardest lead I’ve ever done, I nearly slipped off the slab towards the end, and the fall line was nasty. The slab isn’t completely blank, but there’s about a 10′ section with only small features for feet and nothing for hands. Traverse along the top of the Bridge Flake (stick a #4 in when you gain the bridge flake as a directional, your follower will thank you), and build a gear anchor when the flake arcs upwards.

We switched leads to Ryan at this point for the remainder of the route. P4 moves about 5′ right of the P3 anchor to gain a small finger/fingertip crack that moves up and leftward before gaining a right trending ledge structure to a solid belay ledge. Gear anchor here again.

P5 is the crux pitch. From the P4 anchor, head up and left doing friction moves onto an attached flake with a few crimpers for balance. There’s a new bolt in the middle of the 5.9 blank slab, this is the crux. Mad props to Ryan for leading this free, I had a hard time following it, and the temptation to yard on that bolt is intense. :P The slab free goes if you move slowly and deliberately. The Great Flake has a nice undercling/pincher lip running along its bottom edge that feels like the best hold you’ve ever had. Follow the great flake up and around to the top, then traverse left across another slab with a solid but shallow ledge structure until you reach a set of chains.

We stopped at P5 due to incoming weather and it being much later than intended. Our descent was a set of rap anchors immediately below the 5th pitch chains. Whoever set these was an idiot, they’re too far apart for single 60m raps, and way too close to make double ropes useful. The first rap leads to a set of chains to the right of the great flake. Second rap gains the top of The Pillar. 3rd rap to the base of The Pillar (single rope works here), 4th rap to a blank slab between The Pillar and Lost Charms Tree, 5th rap to the base of the route.

We all agreed that the best way to describe this route was “terrifying”. I’m sure a lot of that boils down to a lack of slab climbing experience. I think this is pretty much the norm for the type of climbing. I think the 5.7 A0 grade is dangerous in a way, as there are some stiff unprotectable moves early on with nasty fall lines that could bite people. All in all, it was a beautiful and fun climb, but definitely a lot harder than we were expecting. The approach is longer than we expected, the leads took MUCH longer, and the raps chewed up a ton of time. We ended up doing 12.5 hours car to car, and while I’m sure we could whittle a little time off, I’m not sure how much. The standard descent (finish P6, and rap Online) might be faster, but since we didn’t top out the route its hard to tell how much. P6 looked pretty easy and straightforward up a flake structure to the right of the P5 belay.

I’d do it again, but not anytime soon. If you’re feeling up for a somewhat scary slab climb, I very much recommend the route. Just don’t expect an easy 5.7 crag climb with a single hard move, you’ll be surprised (like we were). The area has a somewhat alpine feel despite its elevation, and we had the whole place to ourselves that day, which was rather nice.

That said, we felt so worked over after this we immediately abandoned our plans to climb City Park and Great Northern Slab the next day. Jack put it best, “Tomorrow, my goal is to maybe climb out of bed” Well said Jack.

Me leading the P1 slab just right of the route base

Jack following P2. The belay is just between the two trees in the top center.

Me leading the scary blank slab between The Pillar (left) and the Bridge Flake (right)

Looking down-route from the top of the Bridge Flake (P3 belay). P2 belay is at the base of The Pillar (right). P1 belay is between a couple bushes (lower left). Lost Charms Tree is the small cluster of trees higher than the others. (center left)

Ryan leading the P4 finger/fingertip crack. No pictures from the P5 lead (I was belaying), but the Great Flake is obvious in the upper left. The route crosses the slab to its lower right and gains the lower right edge before following the flake up and around its right edge.

Looking up our rap line from the chains at the top of The Pillar. Great Flake is on the upper right.

More pictures available here: Lost Charms Gallery

Posted in Cragging, Trip Reports | Leave a comment

[TR]: Mt Olympus – 7/17 – 7/21/2010

Posted on July 21, 2010 by Dylan Vanderhoof

I’d been trying to put together a team to do Oly for a couple months, Ken had some time off, and Liz wanted to do a backpacking trip and get a climb in this year, so relatively last minute we grabbed a reservation and set the dates for a nice climbing and backpacking trip out to Olympus. Ken managed to convince his ex-coworker Judy to tag along as well so we had a 4 person team.

We rolled out way late on Friday the 16th and made it out to the Hoh car campground to enjoy some beers and get gear situated for a leisurely start the following morning. The weather was gorgeous, and we had a lovely campground by the river. This idyllic scene was suddenly broken by Ken’s exclamation of “Oh. My. God!” from somewhere by the back of the car. “I don’t have a pack!” This was, perhaps, an omen. We decided to sleep on it and I’d see what I could rustle up from my various family members that didn’t live too far from there. The next morning we headed out to Joyce where my dad lives to see what he could offer, after paying for the campsite for another night in case we just ended up drinking at the car campground for a few days. Fortunately, my step-brother had an old North Face pack at my dad’s place that was sufficiently large to hold the gear we needed, and back to the Hoh we went.

Not all Grade II climbs are created equal, since the approach isn’t figured into things. Day 1 was a brutal slog, despite being flat. We were packing in copious amounts of alcohol and had gotten a roughly 3pm start at this point, so the pace was much faster than we probably should’ve taken. After a very long feeling 4 hours or so we rolled into the Olympus Guard Station camp and found a site that we shared with half the mosquitos in the Olympic National Park. However, there was wine to be had, which helped everybody’s moods significantly.

After caching a good deal of the alcohol (including some welcome beer for the return trip), off to Glacier Meadows we went. Despite the decreased pack weight, I think we were all already feeling a little run down. Insufficient conditioning and more weight than we’d been accustomed to for the year made things more brutal than they should’ve been. Even so, we made decent time despite being stopped what felt like every 10 minutes by Park Rangers giving us newbie beta about the climb and repeatedly warning us about an avalanche chute just before Glacier Meadows. The warning was appropriate in many ways, the avvy chute was fairly nasty, although a well placed hand line and sand ladder made the descent possible. The flagged route back up the chute on the other side was downright dangerous, and we made note of a better and safer route across for the return trip.

We got what felt like 5 minutes of sleep at Glacier Meadows before heading off to the moraine at 4am. A group of about 16 high schoolers and guides beat us to the edge of Blue Glacier by about 5 minutes, so we tried to rope up as quickly as possible. We nearly beat the on the glacier, but we forgot to coil one of the two ropes which led to an amusingly short start and allowed one of their two teams to overtake us. So, stuck between two rope teams of kids, we wandered across the excellent snow on the glacier. Little to no crevassing on the route, surprisingly for this time of year. We could see evidence of a few hidden crevasses underfoot, but the bridges were still very solid.

We took a route up Snow Dome a bit before the high school groups, which fortunately led to them getting far ahead of us after a nice break on a rock band halfway to the Snow Dome crest. The snow was getting a little icy so we put on crampons at this point which ended up completely unnecessary since the snow softened as soon as the sun hit it. A long but beautiful slog across the crest of Snow Dome brought us to a little more icy snow at Crystal Pass that was still in the shade where we took another short break before the push to the false summit.

Not far after this is when some issues started popping up, we’d slowed down significantly heading towards the false summit, but made it up there eventually in short bursts. There was a party just gaining the summit block, so we took a nap while the high school groups ran around the false summit in tutus (I’m not joking) being generally annoying. Fortunately, they were topping out at the false summit and wouldn’t be going any further.

The ramp down to the snow saddle between the false and true summits was extremely icy, so we switched to crampons again and headed up to the summit block where the party ahead of us had just set their lead rope. Ken handed me the rack without much comment and we unroped and waited for the 2nd of the previous party to tibloc her way up to the summit. The “standard” open book rock route was blocked by a snow tongue above the snow moat, so the party ahead of us was on a slightly more sporty looking route to the left. Still nothing that would’ve been too big of a deal to lead. A few minutes later, Ken turns to me and says, “I hate to say it man, but I ain’t feelin’ it. I’ve got AMS. I think my days of climbing big mountains are over” None of us argued, I think I was the only person feeling up to tackling the rock at that point. We took a few minutes of rest and then roped back up for the glacier and headed back down. As soon as we regained Snow Dome, Ken was feeling better, so the descent pace picked up a bit at that point, helped by 500-600′ of team glissades from Snow Dome nearly back to Blue Glacier. The snow conditions were still solid, although there were a lot more obvious snow bridge crossings at that point in the day. We slogged back up the moraine and got back to camp around 5:30pm or so, a much longer day than anticipated.

The backpack out was pretty uneventful. We camped on the gravel bar at 9-mile on the last night, which we should’ve done the first night too. One of the nicest camp sites I’ve been in for a while. We had a nice fire, lots of alcohol, and just generally enjoyed life.

We might’ve missed the summit by 100′ or so, but it was still a beautiful and fun climb. Definitely need better conditioning before I tackle a 42 mile trek with that much weight again though.

Our first view of Oly. Snow Dome prominently on the left.

The sand ladder and handline down the Avvy chute

Sunrise on Blue Glacier

Blue Glacier Icefall

Bergshrund blocking the direct route

At the base of the summit block

More pictures available here: Facebook Photo Gallery

Posted in Glacier, Trip Reports | Leave a comment

[TR]: Acker Rock/Peregrine Traverse (5.7R, 10P) – 7/4/2010

Posted on July 4, 2010 by Dylan Vanderhoof

After a beautiful couple days at Smith Rock, we took a rest/travel day to head down Hwy97 for our next objective. Acker Rock is a dacite plug in the middle of nowhere (I mean REALLY in the middle of nowhere) in West/Central Oregon. The Peregrine Traverse is a beautiful ridge climb billed as the longest rock route in Oregon, which I’d certainly believe. You only gain some 500′ vertical elevation, but probably climb about 1200′ all told. The gorgeous Crater Lake is on the way from Smith Rock to Tiller (last “town” before Acker Rock), so we stopped there for some beer, lunch, and beautiful views. Its a National Park, so there’s an entrance fee if you don’t have a pass, but its well worth the visit!

After a very long and windy road (some 4.5 hours nonstop from Smith), we reached Tiller and bought some provisions before heading into the forest to find a campsite. It being the 4th, we were worried we wouldn’t find any, but a gorgeous site awaited us at the Boulder Creek Campground. The other campgrounds in the area were full of some of Oregon’s more colorful denizens, and we were serenaded by Black Sabbath and a constant stream of cursing from the nearby campsites all night, but it was otherwise a pleasant place.

We got an early start and headed up to Acker rock. The route/approach beta we used was from Weekend Rock: Oregon, and was really quite good. The approach trail is very hard to find, but it is marked with tape. The “trail” hadn’t seen any traffic for months due to the Peregrine closure, so it was covered in loose tree duff on rock slabs. The base of the route was fairly obvious when we finally reached it however. (Plus, you can’t really go any further once you hit the base).

Now, while the approach and routefinding beta in Weekend Rock is excellent, the gear/pro beta is downright dangerous in my opinion. The book claims is to be nearly a sport route, so we were all set with dogbone draws and very small alpine racks, expecting to clip bolts for 10 pitches. We were very very wrong in that assumption. There ARE bolts where you need them, but there’s also significant runout on exposed terrain in many places. If I were to do it again, I’d leave the draws at home and come with a standard alpine rack and slings, plus a set of tricams (lots of pockets). On top of that, bailing is nearly impossible after pitch 3, and you’re many miles from help or cell reception.

The climb itself is gorgeous however! Excellent rock, beautiful views and airy exposure, fun climbing that’s runout but not terribly difficult for the most part. A comfortable 5.7 leader will have no problem with this route if they’re ok with running out 5.4-5.5 or so. The crux of the route (4th pitch) is well bolted, and it has an alpine feel overall. I’d actually say this is one of the more aesthetic rock climbs I’ve done. The valley is mostly forest, with even the roads blending into the trees. The hills all around are devoid of cell towers or clearcuts, and its hard to believe civilization is lurking beyond them at all.

I think the only thing keeping me from calling this a 4-star route is the somewhat sketchy pro, poor beta, biting ants (see Pitch 9) and a scary rappel at the end of the climb (more on that below). Definitely a climb I’d do again.

Specific Route Beta:

P1: Climb a 4th class ramp that eases off into walkable terrain before a set of bolts

P2: Head up to the obvious bolt line, then traverse right on 5.6ish face climbing to an awkward belay. (Be ready for your following to launch right into the next pitch, the belay ledge isn’t big enough for 2)

P3: Follow a couple bolts (not enough) up and left towards the ridgeline. Roughly 5.6 again. Tricams would be nice here, there’s definitely opportunities for pro on this pitch, and it would be nice to have. Fairly mellow climbing, but definitely runout.

P4: Head up the bolted 5.7 ramp to the right. Its easier than it looks, nice pockets as features. Once you gain the ridgeline, traverse right (long runout, at least for me) to a tree with a set of bolts just past it. There’s another anchor about 20′ to the right, but the belay stance is much better at the tree.

P5: Fun notch/downclimb pitch. Traverse right to the edge of the ridge and an easy downclimb into a notch, then climb back up the other ride. Low 5th class. Bolted anchor on a large ledge on the other side of the notch and up 20′ or so.

P6: Climb up the blocky face (not quite as easy as it looks from the base) and traverse left across an exposed and runout ledge. Nice and airy. =) The route then continues up the ridge. This pitch is quite runout, and rope drag can be very nasty if you don’t have extendable draws. Probably 5.6ish climbing.

P7: Extremely runout low 5th class climbing up and left towards a tree visible at the ridge crest. A shiny pair of bolts awaits here once again.

P8: Climb around a notch and small exposed knife ridge, then up to the false summit. There are a couple places to belay from up here. This is a good place to take a break too, the next couple pitches are longer and a good deal less fun, and this is the last good place to rest. Probably 5.4 climbing for a few moves.

P9: “The Jungle” Downclimb over a prow, and beware the ants that made their home in the dying tree just at the start of the downclimb. They bite, and they like to swarm over gear and ropes. Took me a while to shake them all off the sling that was around the tree when I was cleaning the route. Continue down to a rock ledge, and then onto a dirty ledge with a tree on it. Find a place to make a gear anchor if possible, as the tree is directly in the rockfall line of the last pitch. This pitch is mostly 4th class.

P10: Sketch! Climb the obvious rotten chimney. I had a #2 camalot shoved in a pocket, but apparently when the next team came through the pocket broke apart. I guess it was good for psychological pro. Falls in the chimney would be short due to it being several steps, but its more or less unprotectable. The route moves up the crack system on the right face at the top of the chimney. There’s probably pro here, although I didn’t use any. The route gains a ledge across the final ridge where I was able to sling a small horn. Run out the rest of the pitch (easy but scary) across a somewhat knife-ridge to two sets of bolts. We belayed off the top one.

Descent: This is one of the most difficult rappels I’ve ever done, including Monkey Face. The lower set of bolts sits about 8″ below a downward sloping lip and has a set of rap rings on it, setting up a scary sit and spin start. Its not obvious where you’re rappelling to, and a single rope clearly doesn’t reach the visible bottom below you. Rap to the large tree on the left (careful, the ledge is dirty), pull the rope, and follow a dirty trail across the gully and up the other side. Immediately upon reach flat ground, you’re greeted with an excellent view of… a backcountry toilet. Very rewarding. :P

The view from the lookout tower on this peak is excellent, and the descent from the tower is well maintained.