Monday, November 28, 2011

Birthday climb up the Sawtooth

For my big 2-9, I browsed a couple of maps of the Indian Peaks and found a very aesthetic peak in a seldom-traveled drainage. Sawtooth Mountain is modest by CO standards, topping out at a mere 12,304ft. After reading the Summitpost Route Description I decided that, given the weather conditions and my lack of experience with technical routes in the winter, I would scramble the East Ridge to the summit. I convinced Ian to join me on this adventure. We are both very close in levels of fitness and technical skill so I felt that anything that would be a stretch for one of us would be a stretch for both.

As it turns out, this peak is the namesake of the delicious Sawtooth Ale by Lefthand Brewing Company in Longmont.


Left-Hand-Sawtooth-Ale


Look closely at the bottom of the bottle design and you'll see the distinct shape of the summit ridge and peak.

We left Boulder around 4:45 AM and arrived at Beaver Reservoir around 6:15AM. There was light snow on the roads and it was cold but the skies were clear, and there was not a breath of wind. As is the standard for long approaches we both were very quiet; we put our heads down and trudged on until the snow on the 4wd road became deep enough for snowshoes.

For the entire approach hike, we saw only occasional rabbit tracks but no hints of any other human presence. Nothing beats cutting fresh tracks.


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Ian breaking trail just after sunrise



We came within view of the objective as the sun was touching the summit and got a breathtaking perspective on the ridge and summit. Any pain I was feeling in my feet from the long approach was immediately forgotten.


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A blurry picture of Sawtooth Mountain on the approach


The route description tells you to hike along the Buchanan Pass trail until the ridge is visible across a clearing and then head up the ridgeline. When we reached a clearing that seemed to match that description, we got a taste of the conditions to come. Shifting, fast-moving clouds were now menacing the summit and it felt like a wind tunnel had been turned on us.

We added layers, balaclavas and goggles and began slogging upwind looking for a way to gain the ridgeline without crossing any snowfields that posed a potential avalanche hazard. It was 10:30AM when we started the climb. After being out in some very harsh conditions last weekend, I felt much more comfortable with how my face was covered and protected from the wind.

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The summit guarded by scary-looking winter clouds


Lacking crampons, we snowshoed our way through slopes of loose rock intermixed with patches of snow. Strong winds had loaded portions of the slope with inconsistent patches of snow. One minute we would post-hole up to our thighs, the next we would be walking on top of a crust of near-ice.

Finally gaining the ridge, the wind picked up again and conditions became that much more serious. Ian's goggles had iced over by this point and we stopped to talk about our options like when or if we might make the decision to turn back. I really didn't want to leave without summitting, but I also wanted to make sure that we were safe; I left the decision up to him. Ian said he would try without the goggles, but if the wind and blowing ice were too much, we would have to bail.

Having adjusted our gear systems, we moved on. We had to climb down to the south side to pass around of the three rock towers on the ridge. "Tower" is a bit of a misnomer for these giant piles of chossy crap; they looked like they only had a few winters left before breaking into pieces and falling down the slope.


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Looking back at the ridgeline from the beginning of the final summit push. You can see the rock "towers" in the lower left corner.


Once we reached the end of the ridgeline, we climbed straight up the final face, staying clear of snowfields to the North and a large cliff to the South. This last push up the face was the steepest portion of the climb so far and the most hazardous. At any given stance it was hard to find a rock to grab onto that didn't come loose in your hand.

On the way up this final slope, I started swearing at the stupid mountain and yelling about the stupid crappy rock, the stupid wind and the stupid effing snow until I stopped and realized how idiotic I sounded. I whipped my head around to make sure that there wasn't anyone around who might hear me...on a mountain...in a windstorm...yeah...Fatigue and psychological stress had made me pissed off at a pile of rocks instead of seeing that all this was in my head. I took a deep breath, laughed at how ridiculous I probably looked and kept climbing. In my opinion, any mountaineering trip that gives you some perspective is a successful one.

We pushed on and, after what seemed like an hour, we made it to the summit! From the base of the ridge to the summit, we had gained about 1,700ft of elevation, though the weather made it seem that much harder.


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My summit shot; I had to take it from inside my coat since I can't operate my cameraphone with gloves on and taking my hand out of my coat would have meant I may have come back with one less hand.


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Ian's summit shot; he is wearing almost all the gear he brought with him.



We didn't linger long; checking our watches, we had summitted at 1:30PM and had a very long hike back. I had told people I would be back in Boulder and getting ready to go out at around 6:00PM and I didn't want to disappoint. We took one last look around, breathed in the thin air and started back down the slope.

There were some patches of snow large enough to butt-slide down, so the descent was made that much quicker. When we did have to walk, the movement was treacherous. The snow was shallow and anytime I would plunge my heel into the snow, my toes would catch on covered rocks. More than once, I was forced to sit down or kneel to keep my ankle from being caught or twisted. It was a very frustrating descent.

We got to the bottom of the ridge in 30 mins flat. The thought of burgers and beer was inspiring enough that we put on our snowshoes and double-timed it back the way we had come. Over the course of the day, the wind had blown away our tracks, leaving us routefinding once again. Luckily, the approach hike had followed a creek drainage nearly all the way to the base of the climb, so there was almost no risk of taking a wrong turn. When we finally found our tracks and entered the woods, we looked back to get one last view of the peak as the sun was beginning to go down behind the peak.


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Sawtooth Mountain with the sun beginning to set.


It wasn't until we were within two miles of the trailhead at Beaver Reservoir that we began to see ski tracks from others who had been out that day. It was nice to have the solitude of the peak, but every sign of civilization we saw meant beer and burgers were that much closer. We double-timed it back towards the car.

We made it to the car at 4:45, as it was beginning to get dark. After a quick stretch, a high five and some gear shedding, we were headed back to Boulder. Total distance: ~14 miles; total elevation gain: ~3000ft. This was a good birthday present.


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Sunset behind Sawtooth



Friday, April 08, 2011

Extorted by the NPA

I guess the statute of limitations on getting in hot water with Peace Corps staff has expired so I can finally tell this story:

Every place has its gangs; LA has the crips and the bloods, El Salvador has MS13, West Side NYC had the Sharks and the Jets, and the Philippines has the New People’s Army. They are a fun-size communist insurgency that was founded as a group opposing the oppression of the country by Ferdinand Marcos (his wife Imelda had the 4000 pairs of shoes) and the US bases around the country. During my Peace Corps service, all my local friends would call them the NPA or the Nice People Around. Bikol, where I was stationed, is a particularly “nice” part of the Philippines. Since everything I said was in the local language, I will do my best to translate from my broken dialect into English.

One of the pipelines I designed and built was for an INCREDIBLY rural upland barangay or “hood”. To get pipes and sacks of cement to the main work site took a 40 minute drive from the city and then a 20 minute hike over steep, sharp limestone terrain. Cellphone signal in this area was spotty normally, on more than once occasion I had to climb small trees to send text messages.

All of my local friends and counterparts had told me that the project area was within about a kilometer of the regional base for a platoon of these nice people. While I was a little nervous at first about working on this project, I decided that since I didn’t have any money and my organization was internationally neutral, no one would bother me, or I would just woo them with my totally amazing language skills. I managed construction on this project for more than a month with no interruptions and without even seeing so much as a single nice person. In fact, since if anyone from my agency knew what I was doing, I would probably be sent home, I had only told one or two close American friends where I would be working. The only safety precaution I had was a pre-written text message with the location of the project and the fact that I had been kidnapped by the NPA. I practiced sending it with one hand with the phone in my pocket and got good enough that I could send it out in 2 seconds using only 5 clicks. This was my safety plan.

One day, right after lunch, my buddy councilman Jimmy, this short, nervous guy, took me aside, and said, Page, there’s some PEOPLE who want to TALK to you.” At that point, I could have run, I could have hidden in the woods and snuck back to the main road after dark, but I decided that I had morality on my side and I had no reason to be scared of a group of clearly idealistic “communist” rebels. I was totally ready for this and had my morals all puffed up to defend myself and the work I had been overseeing.

Jimmy led me another kilometer into the jungle, down a steep series of cliffs, along a creek and behind a giant boulder. If there was had been any chance of using my texting skills to save my ass that ship had long since sailed. As it happened, earlier that week, the nice people had blown up a nearby cellphone tower when the tower company refused to pay their “revolutionary tax.”

Waiting behind this boulder were 6 guys in camo t-shirts and shorts, flip flops, baseball caps, ammo clips and AR-15 assault rifles; if these aren’t the NPA, they are at least giving them some serious competition. So what do I do, having gone into this thinking I could talk my way out of this situation? I introduce myself to the wrong guy. I walk up to the first nice guy, shake his hand and start talking to him like we have known each other for years. After a few sentences, he starts to get a little bit nervous and is looking over my shoulder. I follow his eyeline and find myself staring at someone who is clearly the leader; he has dark, deep-set eyes, is pretty built for being 5’ tall and has way more full clips of ammo than anyone else.

“do you know who we are?”

“you are the NPA”

“you are building a project near us, do you know what we want?”

“no”

“we want respect”

Now this would have been easier to handle if he had said something concrete like money or food or gas or something but how do you give someone respect? Does he want me to follow him and his platoon around and compliment his leadership style?

“ummm”

Again: “We want respect" then “How much is the total amount of your project budget?”

“500,000 pesos” (about $10,000)

“we want 10%” or 50,000 pesos worth of respect

This is where I should have said “yes sir no problem sir I’ll get it for you as soon as I can sir.” But I have a big mouth and I thought my morals were in the right. The workers on this project had all taken a cut in their daily pay since they were the ones getting the new pipeline.

I said “no, I can’t do that; these people are working hard and if I give you that money, we won’t be able to finish the pipeline and all this work will all be for nothing.”

Not to mention all the paperwork I would have to do and receipts I would have to forge to hide 50,000 pesos in the project budget….

And then I said “What class of communists are you, trying to stop a project that is for helping the people?”

I know he must have been a little miffed because he said a bunch of words very quickly that I didn’t understand to some of his buddies and spit a little bit when he said them.

“golly gee these negotiations are unexpected”

After a couple more minutes of going back and forth, he realized I didn’t have a briefcase full of bills with me in the jungle so I had two days to go back and send him a text message when I had the money available; he wouldn’t interrupt construction but after two days all bets were off, including the health of my buddy councilman Jimmy. As I was getting ready to leave, I asked for his phone number so I could get in contact with him. He had one of those phones that shows multiple contacts at a time so I tried to get all James Bond on his ass and write down all the numbers I could see like someone was going to send them to some central database with all their DNA and give me a run-down on their criminal history and any medical conditions they are predisposed to…

I let the workers off early from trenching for the day, got back in a bus back to the city. When I got back to the office, my coworkers already knew everything that had happened. Someone’s brother’s wife’s mother’s friend knew someone in the platoon of NPA and had made the necessary text messages and calls to let everyone know how they just shook down a big white guy. Of course, they all thought it was funny as hell that I had gotten to meet some nice people and had already been planning for how to pay them off since day one of the project (without telling me about it of course). We eventually settled on paying them 10,000 pesos, a goat, a sack of rice and a big box of instant coffee. My counterpart took the goods to them and once we paid I never saw them again. The pipeline and pumps were installed without a hitch and the village still has easier access to water.

Besides learning to keep my mouth shut, what I took away from this whole experience was that even principled revolutionaries turn to extortion if they can’t get their morning rice and coffee.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

The Spearhead, RMNP

Full Album of Pictures Here

Climbing the Spearhead in Rocky Mountain National Park was the first winter ascent I have made or attempted steep enough to need crampons and a mountaineering axe. I have heard read hundreds if not thousands of pages of stories about the trials and treachery of alpine climbing and I needed to experience it for myself. The Spearhead is a granite prominence in Rocky Mountain National Park; the summit is at 12,560’. The summit is best accessed via the Glacier Gorge trailhead (9,300’) near Loch Vale.

It never ceases to amaze me how the most wild and fun adventures seem to come from the most simple kernels of thought, origin unknown. All it takes is an offhand comment or even a whisper of a word to set ablaze the neural pathways connecting the yearning for adventure with THE OBJECTIVE. The Spearhead was no exception to this; almost as soon as the name was mentioned, I jumped on the idea and planning mode took over.

It was Sunday, March 13th at 1:55 AM; daylight savings time would start in 5 minutes. My alarm clock went off for the second time and jolted me out of sleep. I had guessed, correctly, that there would be some kind of clock malfunction if I set my alarm for between 2 and 3AM so Adam, Ian and I had decided to use this excuse to wake up that much earlier and have more of a cushion on our day. Ian swung by in his small car that has been the start and end to more good adventures than bad. We drove to Adam’s apartment, grabbed him and his gear pile and were on our way.

The drive to the park was slow since there is a high risk of elk on the roads between Lyons and Estes Park. At least once, Ian slammed on the brakes to avoid turning yet another deer into road kill or car into scrap metal.

As we approached Estes Park, rain and sleet were splashing down on the windshield and the mood in the car was apprehensive and quiet; as though if anyone drew attention to the fact that rain could mean a cancelled climb, the rain would hear them and fall harder. As we crested the last hill before the descent into Estes the rain abruptly turned to snow and though Ian’s driving became more cautious, playful chatter about the climb started up again.


I had decided to carry ~2.5 liters of water and quite a bit of food. We carried a working stove in case we needed more water, but Adam was insistent that we take every precaution to manage our heat so as not to sweat or become overly dehydrated.

We arrived at Glacier Gorge trailhead at 4:45AM and after 10 minutes of clipping, strapping, tightening and chugging water, we put on our snowshoes and headed off into the night. Fresh snow and an early start meant that even on a trail as popular as Glacier Gorge we were cutting fresh tracks.

Thick, fresh snow can turn any trail from a something resembling a tourist highway into a more natural type of exploration. With no well-defined path to follow, we paralleled a deep gully, scrambling over snow-covered rock when necessary until we found the turnoff for Glacier Gorge trail.

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There was plenty of snow on the trail



Glacier Gorge is about 4 miles long and slowly sloping uphill. We all settled into a walking rhythm and slowly moved up the valley as the sun began to touch the summits of the towering peaks above. On the way we passed the start of several other impressive alpine climbs including All Mixed Up. Our objective was the easiest thing in the valley, but I made a few mental notes to return once my skills have improved.

At 9AM we finished arrived at the base of the bench on which The Spearhead sits at the very end of the gorge. We had seen a single other car parked at the Glacier Gorge trailhead and it looked like it had been there for some time. We found the car’s owner camped at the base of a snowy slope within 1 mile of the Spearhead; he climbed out of his half-buried tent to say hello. He was on skis and, from all the snow pillows on the rocks we had passed it looked like he was going to have a more fun hike out than us.

We climbed up onto the bench (passing a beautiful, blue, multi-pitch ice climb on the way) and then hunted around for a giant boulder that had served as Adam’s bivy. Although we found the boulder, unfortunately the entrance was blocked with several feet of windblown and consolidated snow and ice. With a shovel, perhaps we would have gained access to the cave, but chopping at the snow with ice axes was futile. We had a brief rest on the lee of a rock, had a little lunch and strapped in again.

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Mental Note: Come back and climb this ice


We snowshoed up to the base of the North Ridge of the Spearhead and traversed around to the right to find our route, the more manageable Northwest Slopes scramble. We hiked up until the snow was steep enough to need crampons and put on our harnesses.


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Our first view of the objective


We started up the climb at 11AM after 6 hours of approach hiking. This would be my first pitch of climbing with crampons and a mountaineering axe. Ian and I both roped in to Adam’s harness and Adam soloed the first 60 degree snow pitch and built an anchor. Once the first anchor was set, we simulclimbed as a team of 3; Adam leading and Ian and I following but close to one another. The snow was deep with a consolidated layer about 2 feet under the surface so moving up the slope went something like kick, place axe, stand up, wallow in 2 feet of snow, kick, step, repeat. Once I got the rhythm down, my movements got faster and I sped up, at once point outpacing Adam and inadvertently putting a bit too much slack in my rope. When I noticed the excess rope, I stopped and matched his pace.

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Looking up at the snow climb
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While standing in place, I watched the steps I had kicked fill in with spindrift in a few seconds. The wind would pick up every minute or so and we would all have to hunker down and protect our faces from being sandblasted by the fine, sharp ice particles whirling around us. Although a strong gusts of wind stopped us temporarily, the gale was never sustained for long enough to be a major impediment to our progress; the impression of difficulty was there without the danger, making the climb that much more satisfying.

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Adam leading through the spindrift


After about 400’ of simulclimbing, the slope eased to about 40 degrees and was mostly exposed rock or covered by less than a foot of snow. Almost all rock on these upper slopes was loose so we slowed down and remained roped up for another 4 pitches. Crampons had to be placed carefully and the axes really came in handy for stability on these upper slopes. Although we were on belay, a fall wearing crampons on this terrain could mean a 5-mile hike out on a broken leg.

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A brief break in the weather at a belay station


Once we were within a pitch of the summit ridge, the sun was within 30 minutes of going behind the west ridge of the gorge and we needed to move quickly. Luckily, the scramble to the top was on much more stable rock than we had found below, so all 3 of us hurried to the ridge and took a much needed rest.

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Adam leading towards to summit ridge


At 3PM we reached the base of the summit block but decided that the time and exposure required to rope up and climb onto the block was an unnecessary risk; we took pictures instead. To the north of the summit ridge was a sheer 1000’ face dropping nearly to the base of The Spearhead.

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The team on the summit


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The summit block


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A break in the weather

We had been blasted by ice and wind for 4 hours ascending this chunk of snowy rock and finally, when we reached the summit, the clouds broke and the weather calmed. The North Face of Long’s Peak, Chief’s Head, McHenry’s Peak, Thatchtop and the entire length of Glacier Gorge were visible. We could see down the gorge, into the center of Rocky Mountain National Park and on to the horizon. It was a spectacular milestone on a particularly difficult day.


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McHenry's Peak


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Chief's Head


We snacked, drank water, had the obligatory victory swig of Jameson, removed our crampons and prepared for the descent. That morning Adam had suggested, for the sake of speed, that we bring some slings to leave behind, rappel 60 meter pitches on double ropes and then pull the ropes out. It only took 4 rappels apiece to get to the top of our initial snow climb; from there we plunge-stepped down through soft, pillowy snow until the terrain evened out and we were on solid ground again.

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Rappelling the top pitches



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Plunge-stepping the bottom of the snow climb

30 minutes before sunset we were gearing down at the base of the climb and releasing our stress now that we were out of technical terrain. When the harness comes off, then you can breathe a sigh of relief and start thinking about burgers and beer. If you allow yourself to relax before you are off a climb, you can put yourself in greater danger by not fully appreciating the risks of the terrain.

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One last look back


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Leaving The Spearhead behind

We still had 6 miles of hiking to go, but since it was all downhill and the objective had been completed, it was far less daunting than the hike in. We descended the bench back to the skier’s campsite to find a set of ski tracks that were almost completely filled in with drifting snow. As we walked, the trail became more and more defined from the many snowshoers that had followed our tracks up Glacier Gorge during the day. We were the first in and the last out.


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The North Face of Long's Peak on the Hike Out

As we plodded down the gorge, the half-moon shone brightly enough on the bright snow that we could move easily without headlamps. I have been camping many times in or near Boulder County and am always able to see the pink glow of a nearby city no matter how far into the wilderness I am. This time, the black sky and the bright stars showed no hint of civilization.


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The hike out

The hike seemed interminable. That morning we had cut our own direct trail for the first mile of trail, avoiding the meandering path shown on the map. Following the snowshoe tracks that evening we were led down almost an extra mile of what some people might consider scenic trail. After 4 miles of plodding we didn’t want any more beautiful views; we wanted the car, food and beer. More importantly, we wanted to let my girlfriend know that she shouldn’t call RMNP’s rescue team to come looking for us. If she had not heard from us by midnight, she was instructed to call 911 and get a SAR team organized to come searching for us. Given that she had read the Summitpost page for The Spearhead more than 10 times in the preceeding week, there was a good chance that she would call 911 no later than 12:01AM.

We made it back to the car at 10:00PM after 13 miles of hiking and 3200’ of total elevation gain over 19 hours.

We celebrated by driving home and being surprised by a batch of freshly made cupcakes and a hot meal. What an amazing day.