Fabio, Scott, Julien, and I made plans to climb at Timberline Falls in RMNP. The weather was mild and, with no recent snow, we made quick time up the trail from Glacier Gorge to the Loch. Timberline is the outlet from Lake of Glass and Sky Pond, where the stream supposedly falls over 200' into the forest below. On the approach, we didn't see much. Then there was a short, bit of ice, perhaps 20' in all. Oh well. We've come all this way, we might as well throw up one of our 70 meter ropes (drastic overkill for something this modest) and run some laps.
To our surprise, there was a lot more ice than we'd expected and it was a lot bigger from up close. Fabio tackled the left line, a straight sheet of untouched ice which turned out to be 100' high and in the WI3 range. Meanwhile, Julien, despite not having been on ice in many years, grabbed the lead of the more convoluted right side; a route comprised of a 30' bulge followed by some low-angle ice and finally a 10' bulgy headwall.
The day was partly cloudy, relatively warm, and with only the slightest of breezes. We each ran three or four laps of the routes, enjoying ourselves immensely. Where was everyone? Isn't is supposed to hurt more? Why was this ice completely untouched? It felt criminal to swing my tool at a meter square sheet of deep, tourquoise ice so clear you could see the underlying rock and snow several feet down.
To round out the day, Julien and I ascended to clean the anchors, then wandered a hundred yards up to Lake of Glass to take in the awesome panorama at the head of the Sky Pond cirque: Taylor Peak flanked by the Cathedral Spires and Powell Peak.
OK, show time! I deskinned on a minor hill at 12,000' and started the descent. The snow was warming up nicely and turning into fine corn and I managed some rather shaky turns on the low-angle terrain up high. Getting down into the trees again was a whole 'nuther matter. Steep, narrow, and chopped up... I got down, but it wasn't by any skills I'd mastered this year. Finally I had a glorious bit of runout on the narrow trails through the trees and back to the trailhead.
Weather conditions were great and everything looked "go" for a nice, mellow day of peak-bagging. But the starting and ending elevations don't take into account the three minor summits you have to scale on the way to the main event, and again on the way back! The initial 1000' climb up from the Pass to where the ridge bifurcates on shoulder (12,915') of Mt. Sniktau was a bit of a puff, but that's to be expected. Then I dropped down to a broad saddle (12,714') and climbed the rounded summit of the unofficially-named Cupid (13,117'). Then down a steep slope to a narrow saddle (12,756') and up again across some moderately challenging ridge across the unnamed hump (12,936') and down the heavily-corniced south side (12,720'). Finally, a climb of 600 vertical feet in a linear quarter mile up very steep snow and talus to the nice summit of Grizzly Pk. (13,427'). For those of you keeping score at home (and multiplying by two), that's 2800' of climbing and descending, all of it above 12,000'!
Grizzly, Torreys and Grays from one of the lumps on the ridge. | And now, the return. All the steep drops from before became steep climbs and vice-versa. I'd briefly considered running out and tagging Mt. Sniktau from the ridge junction (an easy mile each direction), but it looked like it involved climbing up and over another intervening hump each way. The wind was picking up and I was totally whipped. Time to retreat. I still had three more days of bachelor-hood to survive with after all... |
More Backcountry Fun
Meadow Mountain
April 11
With three quarters of a day left in my temporary bachelorhood, I loaded the skis on the car and headed for Meadow Mountain. For a pretty mellow mountain, I've had decidedly mixed results being 1:3 on previous winter ascents. Usually extreme wind is the problem. But this time, the weather was flawless and I was hoping to finish off the BC ski season in style.
The first mile of trail looked like it was packed pretty well and I opted to just hike it. This turned out to be a good idea as there were plenty of blow-downs and bare spots to contend with. By the time my tips were getting caught in the overhead branches a little too often, I was able to switch to skins and climb the steep bowl, sweating mightily in the hot sun. Above the bowl, I wound through the trackless, dense evergreens before breaking out above tree line on the moderate slopes below the saddle.
This is one of the reasons you climb Meadow Mountain. |
The view from the saddle is the main reason to climb Meadow: after three miles of steep approach, you reach the ridge between Meadow Mountain on the right and Mt. St. Vrain on the left. This is also the southern rim of the incredible Wild Basin and the awesome panorama to the north and west appears suddenly over the course of a dozen strides. The snow also completely vanishes. The weather was fine and I had plenty of time, so I stashed my skis and set out on foot over the tundra aimed for Mt. St. Vrain, feeling grateful for my soft leather boots rather than stiff plastics. Unfortunately, St. Vrain appeared a lot closer than it was and I began to think better of my plans. I had places to be and people to pick up at the airport, so I turned around, bagged the unnamed minor summit (Pt. 11478) between St. Vrain and Meadow with excellent views of Mts. Audubon, Paiute, and the Indian Peaks to the southwest, then began my descent.
As usual, the descent was less graceful than it could have been. As usual, I fell a lot in the rapidly-softening powder. But for once I felt like maybe, just maybe, I did a couple of bona-fide decent backcountry turns. As I got lower and lower, the terrain became more and more constrained and the snowcover thinner and thinner. The rapidly-dwindling snow back on the trail convinced me to that hoofing it was the better part of valor, but I still managed to ski the last half mile to the car through aspen glades.
It was a glorious day in the mountains and a good way to finish the season in style. Or is the season finished after all? Regardless, I am satisfied and ready to move onto summer pursuits.
Fandango Fiasco
May 8
It started out auspiciously enough; Fabio, Peter and I set out to climb Fandango, a lovely six-pitch 5.5 route on the huge First Flatiron. Fabio and I have each climbed it a couple of times before. No problem... no. Problems.
As we geared up at the base of the climb, the second problem became evident. Fabio had forgotten his harness as well as the helmet. While I didn't have a spare harness floating in around, I did have 15' of emergency bail-off webbing that I tend to carry. He was able to tie a diaper sling harness suitable for the easy rock we expected. What's more, his belay device was attached to the harness he forgot. Again, fortunately, I happened to have a tiny spare of these as well.
Figuring that bad luck came in threes, we set out up the rock. I tackled all the lead duties and had little trouble with the first two pitches. For P3, we tried a left side variation on the regular line (5.6). This avoided the gnarly crux pitch on the regular variation and I got to try something new.
I found the pitch to be better than expected and set up a rather precarious gear belay at the top of a dihedral. When Fabio and Peter arrived, they did so without the cordalette, cam, and other gear I'd used to set up the previous belay... so Fabio made a trip back down and up again to retreive it.
From there on, it was mostly smooth sailing. P4 started with pulling a short, juggy roof and rejoining the regular route at the wonderful fist crack pitch. Then up to the ridge and scaling the various towers to the summit.
The final push to the summit of Taylor was a relentless push up a slope of tundra and felsenmere. The others might not know what lay ahead, but I did. The beauty of Taylor from this side is you don't get the view until you arrive on the summit. And what a view it is! Longs, Powell, Thatchtop, Chiefshead, Pagoda, and all the other Glacier Gorge summits arranged conveniently at eye level, decorated with steep snowfields and dark cliffs. In particular, the view nearly directly down 2000' to Sky Pond and Lake of Glass takes your breath away no matter how many times you've seen it! I hustled ahead just to watch the reaction of the other two as they arrived on the summit and had to sit down for reasons only partly related to the thin air at 13,000'.
We ate a quick lunch on the summit as clouds built in from the south. By the time we hurried off, it was getting distinctly threatening and we enjoyed the gravitational assist down to the glacier. Snow conditions back on the glacier were just right for a nice, long glissade nearly all the way down to the tarn. Then, it was a second glissade down the much scarier slopes below, dodging rocks and other hazards. The weather never really turned nasty though we did get a few sprinkles as we hiked back past the Loch. Tourists in sneakers and jeans admired our rugged bearing and we felt quite smug looking back up at towering Taylor Peak.
It was snowing heavily at Bear Lake with 10" on the ground (enough to hide most of the rocks) but more up high. We skied up past the turn-off for Flattop, and continued on up the gently rising traverse toward Lake Helene and Two Rivers Lake. By the time we reached the first lake, we felt sufficiently exercised to turn the trip and head back down.
