Climbing

Saturday, August 6th, 2005

On Saturday afternoon, Apryle finally gave in. Agreed to join me for an attempt on the East Face of Long’s Peak, via the Casual Route on the Diamond.

The climb would not, however, be casual. The Diamond is a striking feature, visible from miles away as it rises over a thousand feet in an unrelentingly vertical sweep of unbroken granite. To attempt this climb in a day, the Diamond hopeful must first wake in the middle of the night and hike to Chasm Lake, 4.2 miles while gaining 2360 feet of elevation. The trail ends, replaced by a faint climbers path that weaves through boulders and gravel on the north side of the lake, up the ancient glacial moraines to the base of the ever-shrinking Mills Glacier. Now in the age of glacial retreat, this once-mighty iceflow amounts to little more than a permanent snowfield posing a minor inconvenience to the would-be climber. Only at this point does the actual technical climbing begin, first by treading carefully up the loose, rotten granite of the 600 foot North Chimney to Broadway Ledge. From Broadway, the climber strikes up the face, overhung so steeply at the top that it seems the! re is no sky to the west, only a vast sea of pink and black granite, split by thousand foot cracks only visible from this near vantage. The Diamond itself gives ample cover to approaching storms, so our tense climber glances nervously skyward at every puff and wisp of cloud, always ready for a monstrous black demon to rain down hail and lightning from above.

The Diamond was first climbed in 1960 by a Californian pair, via a challenging aid route that took two days and much fear to complete. Over the decades since, ambitious climbers have forged over 30 new routes up the menacing face, the easiest route wryly nicknamed “The Casual Route”.

Thankfully, the Casual Route itself offers a bit of a reprieve from the otherwise terrifying array of hard free climbs and aid routes on the Diamond. Though fully eight pitches long, the route is comprised of mostly moderate climbing, with a few fearful sections on easier rock and well-protected cruxes, culminating with an airy move of 5.10a climbing over a bulge high on the face.

Apryle and I started our day well before the crack of dawn. The alarm barely registered in my groggy mind as it blared away at midnight. She nudged me awake and we ate some cereal. We grabbed our packs, and as we turned off the lights and headed our I snuck a little package from high in the closet into my pocket. We were off to climb the Diamond!

A measly hour and a half of sleep had not treated either of us all too well, but we shouldered our climbing packs and hit the trail around twelve-thirty. The quiet chill of the night was broken now and again by other Long’s Peak hopefuls – packs of woefully underprepared Keyhole climbers headed off to do battle with the standard tourist route up the mountain. The cold night air was a surprise, I had expected warmer temps, so we trudged along with shell jackets tightly zipped. My cold fingers found refuge in my pants pockets, and I found myself gripping tightly to my little surprise. Apryle and I moved steadily up the trail, arriving somewhere near Chasm lake at around three o’clock in the morning.

The new moon kindly left us naught but starlight and the pale glow of our LED headlamps by which to navigate. Faintly silhoutted against the dark night sky, tremendous buttresses of rock surged skyward. I felt insignificant, indimidated, and tired. We found an overhanging boulder with a sandy sheltered bivouac site underneath, set a watch alarm for four AM, and curled up under a space blanket to wait for the reassuring glow of early dawn to show us the route.

Our “nap” passed just as unplanned bivouacs frequently do – slowly, with much shivering. By four AM there was light enough to see the hulking mass of the Diamond and the inky blackness of Chasm Lake lying before us. We started around the left side of the lake, though we were soon stopped by a short but steep snowfield, cliffs above, lake below. A pair of headlamps bobbed and weaved across the lake, so we backtracked and found the climber’s path. Other parties appeared, hiking up from below or rising out of their hidden bivouacs. We found ourselves third in line as we approached the final moraines at the base of the East Face of Longs.

A cold wind had accompanied the blood-red sun, so we huddled behind a small boulder as the other parties geared up to ascend the rotten North Chimney. The Diamond looked friendly almost, shining pink and orange as it stretched skyward for half a mile. We were worked. I was nervous, whether from the challenge before us or my hidden agenda I know not. I felt sick as I had on Gannet Peak in the Wind River range, the last time I reached 13,000 feet in the States. Apryle was tired from the hike and lack of sleep; she was worried that in her state she wouldn’t be able to contribute much to the climb, let alone lead the crux pitch.

So instead of climbing, I pulled the ring out of my pocket and proposed.

I was almost sure she expected it. I couldn’t fathom how she hadn’t caught on, when she had discovered my intentions and foiled this very plan two weeks earlier. Unbeknowst to her, I had received the ring in the mail a day earlier, a beautiful brilliant diamond set in the smallest of platinum bands. I was excited, and wanted to take her on the Diamond to propose. I asked her to go with me a few times, but she wasn’t ready. She wanted to wait until she was ready to play an active role in the ascent – to share the leads, not just follow.

My co-worker Todd, an experienced climber and Diamond veteran, goaded and coaxed hard us that day when we stopped by the CMS office. “Just give it a go! You can send that route; it’s so beautiful!” That afternoon, Apryle guessed at my plans, certain that Todd knew something she did not. My overanxiety to climb a route that we both knew might be beyond us seemed uncharacteristic….but suddenly she knew why. And she was sad to ruin my surprise, but what could be done? It was a grand idea, we both acknowledged.

I had played the fool with respect to diamonds and rings; anytime we talked of marriage I made it plain to Apryle that I didn’t know a diamond from a granite crystal. She knows me well enough to know that I would never embark on such a purchase without months worth of research and pondering. She couldn’t believe I thought I could just run out and pick up a ring the week before she agreed to climb that menacing and thrilling Diamond. She was completely fooled. When I asked her again to climb the Diamond, she honestly thought we were just going to climb, that she had ruined my surprise and I would end up taking her out to dinnner or some other cliched proposal.

As we huddled behind that boulder with the East Face of Longs Peak soaring above us, painted pink by the rising sun, and our faces flushed from the cold night air, we decided to throw in the towel and head back home. Apryle looked at me and jokingly said, “So you don’t have anything for me?”

I smiled told her “No”, even as I pulled the ring from my pocket. Her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide. She said yes.

We both felt like giving the climb a chance after that, but three hundred feet up the North Chimney we bagged it. I was still feeling the altitude and Apryle was tired. We enjoyed the warmth of the rising sun for a half hour on a little ledge as rockfall rained down from above, then quickly descended and happily hiked down the valley and headed home. We didn’t climb the Diamond, but it isn’t going anywhere. And if you ask me, what we accomplished up there was far more important than any rock has ever been. Definitely a day to remember, forever.

Shortly after our successful climb on Hallett Peak, Apryle and I discussed another alpine adventure. She was interested in climbing a route independently, to see what she was capable of in the mountains without relying on my experience….so she paired up with Sarka, a friend of ours from the Czech Republic. Sarka was a strong climber but had little trad experience and had spent almost no time alpine climbing. She was the perfect partner. They planned to climb the Spiral Route, a well-known 5.4 that wraps the entire way around Notchtop before topping out in the notch itself.

I paired up with one of the CMS guides, Randy Judycki. We aimed for the South Face, a 5.8 that shoots straight up the south-facing prow of Notchtop on clean granite.

Both parties had a good day. Randy and I swung leads and topped out in the early afternoon, then rapped the descent route without major difficulty. Apryle and Sarka had no trouble climbing the route with Apryle leading every pitch, but got hung up with another party on the descent and took a while getting off the mountain.

We wanted to get out and sample the alpine rock offerings in Rocky Mountain National Park, so we set our sights on the classic “Better Than Love” route on Hallett Peak. The route was moderate, especially in the lower sections, and ended with a stellar vertical face. Route-finding was ambiguous, as with most mountain routes, but we made our way without major difficulty. Protection was good but not frequent, especially on the upper sections. All in all it was a great moderate route, but not one for the first-time alpine rock climber. It took us about 14 hours from car-to-car.

We were not as motivated as you might think during our first summer in Estes Park, for many reasons…but we did get out and climb some of the classics – such as Kor’s Flake. The line is a mega-classic 5.7 on Sundance Buttress at Lumpy Ridge. We had heard plenty of stories about the crux pitch: a 200 foot squeeze chimney with little to no pro. Figuring that it wouldn’t have the crowds found elsewhere at Lumpy, we decided to have a go.

The “crux pitch” was my lead – and it was indeed a 200 foot squeeze behind the massive flake that give the route its name. I struggled my way up, fishing in a pair of micronuts for my only pro on the route. Falling wasn’t an option – not because of the consequence, but simply because it wasn’t possible. I was so stuck in that damn chimney that I would have had to try really hard to fall out.

Apryle drew the next pitch, which I firmly believe was the crux. She placed ample pro, but send the awkward, under-clingy crux moves with a smile on her face. I almost popped off while following.

Afterwards, I discussed the route with Eli Helmuth, head guide at the Colorado Mountain School. He commented that “that route should actually be graded 5.7f or something…” We both agreed that the last pitch feels more 5.8+ish than 5.7. I guess no one has the nerve to go re-grade a Layton Kor classic. You should check it out; it’s worth the approach.

Apryle few out to LA for Thanksgiving, and we spent the long weekend at Red Rocks, a large canyon system 20 minutes outside of Las Vegas.  Red Rocks host a number of moderate multi-pitch climbing on less than confidence inspiring sand stone.  The approaches are generally long and the descents range from many rappels to endless 3rd class scrambles.

I picked Apryle up at LAX at 1:30am on Thursday, we headed strait for Vegas.  We arrived at Red Rocks at 6:15am, which was a perfect time to start a climbing (who needs sleep?).  Since Apryle had never been to Red Rocks, we decided to climb solar slab, a long, but easy introduction to the sandstone.  We arrived at the trail head as several parties we beginning their hike into the canyon.  Solar slab being a popular climb, we knew that we would have to move fast, as to not get stuck behind large slowly moving parties.  We arrived at the base of the solar slab gully (a 3 pitch 5.3 climb) in a record-breaking 25 minutes and quickly past a group of four who had just started the first pitch.  We simul-climbing the gully and reached the solar slab ledge, first in line for the climb.  The 6 pitch 5.6 climb went with out problems, with Apryle enjoying the occasional slabby run-outs typical of Red Rocks.  We opted out of the 7th pitch and scramble to the top, feeling the effects of 30 hours with out sleep, and began the rappel.  We passed many groups on the way down, most of who would not make it to the top by dark.  We were glad that we had moved quickly early on the climb.  We returned to the car around 3pm and headed to the campground, which was full.  After getting kicked out of the picnic area, we drove to the look out rest stop and prepared our Thanksgiving dinner.  We filled our selves with mashed potatoes, stove top, and green beans.  We then found a deserted area to sleep for the night.

After over-sleeping to the late hour of 6:30am, we headed to black velvet canyon, with plans to climb frogland.  When we arrived at the parking area, several groups we leaving in the direction of frogland.  We decided to change our plans and head towards Arrow Place, a climb that was sunnier and less crowed than frogland.  The three pitch 5.9 climb was great, a direct line, with varied climbing. The first pitch was a thin 5.9 dihedral with sand on several of the holds, adding to the difficulty of the pitch.  The second pitch was beautiful  5.8 corner crack climbing, with rests when you needed them.  The last pitch was a loose 5.7 face climb, not great, but finished the varied climb nicely.  We then rappelled to the ground and made our way back to the car for some dinner.  We setup the stove and proceeded to make some delicious refried bean quesadilla.  As climber returned from longer climbs in the canyon, they were envious of our feast. While talking to a nice group of climbers, we were offered their campsite since they were leaving that evening and had paid for an extra night.  After a mix-up with the site number, we were in the right site, sleeping in preparation for a long day on Saturday.

We woke up around 5am on Saturday, ate some PBH sandwiches and headed to the loop road gate.  The plan was Black Orpheus, an 11 pitch climb, which a 5.10a crux move, and several 5.8 pitches.  We were first in line at the gate, which opened 15 minutes late.  We drove quickly around the loop road, pulling off into  the Oak Creek Canyon parking area.  The approach took us into the canyon bottom, and ended with about 400 feet of 3rd and 4th class scrambling, which we did as a running belay.  We arrived and the base of the climb and quickly re-racked. The first two pitches followed a large left-facing dihedral with nice 5.8 crack climbing, lay-backing, and stemming.  The third pitch eased a bit, mostly 5.7 face climbing.  The next four pitches were easy placing us below a right facing dihedral broken with a thin hand crack.  The 8th pitch followed up the dihedral, 150 feet of sustained 5.8 stemming and jamming.  The 9th pitch began with a short 5.10 finger lock move with small feet, and then eased to a beautiful 5.7 splitter crack.  The 10th pitch reminded me of the dihedral at Stone Mtn, NC, with 5.6 slabby lay-backing.  The last pitch was 5.6 slab climbing ending atop a windy ledge.  The wind was gusty all day, but on the last belay it was so strong, I though it was going to rip my helmet off of my head.  The decent was long, involving both many rappels and lots of 4th class slabs.  Our last three rappels were in the dark, placing us deep with in the canyon.  As we began our hike down the canyon floor it began to rain.  The hard rain held off until we were out of the canyon floor, back on the trail from solar slab.  We got back to the car around 7:30pm, tired and wet.  We quickly changed into dry clothes and headed back to camp for some chili and more quesadilla.

Due to the rain Saturday night, we were unable to climb on Sunday, so we headed for Joshua Tree.  We did not have much time, but Apryle had never been and wanted to see what it was like.  We arrived around lunch time, quick racked-up and climbed double cross.  After a quick photo shoot, we were on our way back to LA, so Apryle could catch her flight back to Pittsburgh.  Although the trip was short, we made the most of it.  The highlight for me was Black Orpheus, which forced me to lead quickly, and tested my route finding abilities.  I think Apryle had a good time, despite being really scared on the decent of Black Orpheus.

Trip report and photos courtesy of Dan Anderson.

* phil leads unrelenting verticality and apryle leads lichen or leave it *

Since saying farewell to the Southern Cross and re-establishing myself in Pittsburgh, life has been interesting. The photos on this page are a glimpse of life this fall…climbing and spending time with friends from work and Captain Spam, Adopt-A-Crag 2004 at Krahlick, doing lots of cooking, paddling and paddling, teaching a backpacking class for Exkursion, and weekend after weekend at Seneca pushing limits with Apryle.