Validating the Effort

Traveling in the mountains combines so many variables that one of the great thrills is meeting that uncertainty head-on, recognizing that the problem solving and decision making are half the fun. Unfortunately, the accomplishment of your mountain goal doesn't always mirror your efforts. You can be caught in a whiteout just prior to an epic line after hours of brutal trailbreaking; or, be surrounded by lightning and thunder a thousand feet from the summit after two days of climbing; or, experience furious, unstable winds on a narrow ridgeline midway through a traverse. Yet every now and then, the stars align and you have one of those experiences that validates all the effort that you expend in the mountains.

This summer I went back to the Cascade volcanoes to climb two more mountains off my wishlist: Mount Hood and Mount Adams (pictured below, as seen from Mt. Rainier).

At Mount Adams, the road was still snowed-in 3.5 miles from the trailhead. There was no way we could carry all of our climbing gear an additional 7 miles round trip, so we decided to abandon our more technical route, in order to spend half the day digging out the road and climb the standard route. We teamed up with other climbers and started to dig ruts in the snow. After four hours, we were only half way. With no possibility of turning the trucks around, we had to finish digging the road all the way to the trailhead parking lot--it was pure hell.

I cursed this decision multiple times, wondering how all this effort would ever be worth it. Then, when we reached the trailhead, a 30-day survival group had a young adult who had fallen in a tree well with a 70-pound pack and blown out his knee. They had no idea how to get him down the mountain. They were preparing to carry him in a stretcher made of sticks when we showed up at 8pm. They were stunned and emotional at the same time. We put the boy in the back of the car and drove him down our newly opened road. It was an incredible experience. To have spent all that energy and time on a seemingly stupid decision, and then to validate the crushing effort by helping someone in such desperate need. 

Although we didn't get to climb the Mazama Glacier, the following day was perfect weather and we climbed the standard South Spur route, nearly 6,700 vertical feet and 14 miles round trip. You can never have enough good Karma!

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The Adamants - Part 2

Well, I gave you all the quick intro just 2 weeks ago, and now I am back.

But I am so loaded with killer photos and great stories that I will break this up into a few posts.

We landed at the head of the Austerity Glacier in the heart of the Adamant Spires, a remote group of peaks about 100 miles north of Rogers Pass, British Columbia. My trusty partner Craig McGee guides in the winter for Canadian Mountain Holidays in this area so he was chock full of lines for us to try. We built our snow camp, racked up and tried to sleep, giddy as two kids on christmas (in my case Hannukah) morning, ready to try the 2,000' formation known as the Turret.

Digging camp at the base of the Turret

Racking up in the AM

The formation had never been climbed in a day or free climbed so of course that was our goal. We walked 5 minutes to the base and picked what looked like the best line. Info on the route was virtually non-existent and the two pictures of where the route went had 2 different lines drawn in! A few hours later and about 1,000 feet of climbing brought us to the base of the headwall. We had battled a bit of loose rock and tricky route finding to this point, and now the vertical headwall took on the character of an onion skin. Peeling, hollow giant flakes were the name of the game, as we cautiously tread up another pitch or two.

Craig tackles the headwall of the Turret with Mt. Sir Sanford in the background.

About 400 feet from the top, the scary climbing got the better of us. I came up to a 7 piece anchor that Craig had made, and he still didn't feel good about it. The next pitch was a 100 foot traverse across perched blocks that was looking to weigh in at 5.11 r/x. We had enough and bailed.

We then turned our sights to trying the first one day and free ascent of the Blackfriar, another 2,000 foot wall close to camp. We did about 6 pitches of amazing Black Canyon of the Gunnison style free climbing until the skies opened up on us. I was on an intricate and run out 5.10 pitch when waterfalls starting pouring down the route. Not having a solid piece of gear in to bail on I kept climbing in the rain until I could make the anchor. Of course the anchor was guarded by 10 feet of ice climbing- this is the mountains after all! A minor epic saw us off the cliff soaked to the bone and hustling back to camp for dry clothes and warm tea.

Me bailing off the Blackfriar in a storm.

Back in camp we were feeling the mountain beat down. Adamants 2, Craig and Evan 0. But I have been in the mountains enough to know that humility and failure are a big part of the game and that is what keeps you coming back to try again. So we dried our gear out for a day, and rested up camp, to get ready to try the Blackfriar again...

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The Adamants

3:15am and the 7 hour after work drive from Squamish is complete. We haven't seen a light or a car for at least an hour and a half since we turned up a road toward Mica Dam just north of Revelstoke, B.C. A small light appears on the hill, and before we know it the mountain chalet of Canadian Mountain Holidays (CMH) Adamants Lodge is right out our windshield. Soft comfy beds, a cookie jar and a hot shower are somehow all waiting for us here in the middle of nowhere.

CMH Adamants Lodge

8 am and the breakfast bell is ringing. Ginger pancakes, fresh OJ, coffee to order, what have I stumbled into?!??! And the helicopter is waiting outside to fly us into our remote glaciated alpine rock climbing heaven? WOW.

Lucky for me I hooked up with my friend Craig McGee who has been a ski guide for CMH for years and has the connections to make this trip possible. Today we will fly in for 11 days of trying our hand at first ascents and free climbs on formations like the Turret:

Communications will be limited from the basin (sat phones for emergencies), but I will be sure to fill you all in when I get back out. Here's crossing my fingers for good rock and great weather...

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The Tantalus Range

Summer finally kicked in for us in the Pacific North-wet last week, and my timing couldn't have been better for a 5 day trip to teach some folks about alpine climbing. Working for Canada West Mountain School, I met with my two climbers Mike and Lou at a coffee shop in town at 7 am. A little caffeine, some pouring over maps, and a ten minute drive took us to the Squamish Airport. The heli pilot gave us a quick briefing and we loaded the bird for the hop up to the Jim Haberl Hut in the Tantalus Range of coastal British Columbia.

Black Tusk Helicopters setting some climbers up with Alpha in the background.

The Tantalus Range is an amazing string of peaks that rise out of the ocean just west of the highway between Squamish and Whistler. If you have ever driven to Whistler on a clear day and looked west off the highway, you are smacked in the face with 6 - 7 thousand vertical feet of steep, rocky peaks with tumbling glaciers pouring off their ridgelines. The problem with climbing in the Tantalus range has always been access. Steep forested hill sides guarded by major, fast moving rivers prevent easy access, and that is where the heli comes into play. For a few hundred dollars per person Black Tusk Helicopters will drop you off and pick you up at the Jim Haberl Hut, right in the middle of the range. We chose this option, and after the 6 minute flight straight up, we were practicing crevasse rescue on a glacier by 8:15 am. Unbelievable!

The Jim Haberl Hut with Dione in the background

The hut fully styles you out, completed in 2006, with its bunk beds with mattresses, hardwood flooring and walling, propane grill, outhouse, etc...it is full on alpine bivy luxury. You can walk out your door to technical alpine terrain. What could be better 15 minutes from my house in Squamish.

So with 5 days of sunshine and warm weather forecast, we set to making plans for some of the classic climbs in the range and a bit of instruction as well. First off we climbed Serratus, which is literally a 15 minute walk from the hut. Steep snow slopes led to some easy rock scrambling and the summit at 8:30am.

Summiting Serratus with Dione in the background.

Warm weather meant alpine starts: 3am wake up calls and walking by 4am so we could get the best snow conditions before the heat of the day. It also meant sunrises on the summits.

We did some skills and then ramped up for an ascent of Dione, one of the more prominent peaks in the range. This one required a few hours of glacier travel on the approach, front pointing up a steep couloir, and then 3 pitches of 5th class rock. By all means, a well rounded alpine ascent, requiring a wide skill set.

The SE face of Dione with the Rumbling Glacier in the background

Approaching the summit of Dione

The shadow of Dione from the summit

We climbed a few more small objectives the next day and then headed back down to the heat of the valley. Overall a great trip in an amazing spot just a short heli ride away from Squamish. Get up to the Tantalus if you have a chance!

Climbing above the Lake Lovely Water area.

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