Indian Peaks – 9.7.2013

Atop the Indian Peaks – click for more pictures

Atop the Indian Peaks – click picture for some more great photos

After spending a mostly relaxing Labor Day weekend in Traverse City, MI, boating, playing Can Jam (it’s an awesome game), and kayaking with lifelong buddies, Joey Suttle & the Kevins (Hammond & Kulp), it was time to return to the high-country to put in some work in the thin air.  Great friend, Ben, and I headed up to the Indian Peaks at an excruciatingly early 4am.  After a brief interlude with a cleverly hidden State Trooper (who knew radar worked that early in the AM) and a $165 fine, we were on our way.

We climbed the SE Ridge of Mt. Audubon (13,223′) that had a lot of fun terrain as well as a really interesting class III/class IV notch that had to be negotiated.  The climbing itself wasn’t terribly difficult, but the exposure was pretty significant, so let’s just say that this wasn’t a place where you would want to take a tumble.  After passing this section without incident, we scrambled the rest of the way to the summit and enjoyed the views of Rocky Mountain National Park, the surrounding Indian Peaks and the Continental Divide.

From there, we continued across Mt. Audubon’s class III West Ridge to the summit of Paiute Peak (13,088′).  It was a fun scramble down 600’+ and then back up to Paiute’s twin summits.  We touched both just to make sure and enjoyed a leisurely snack on top while soaking in the magnificent views.  It was a clear and beautiful morning, but the clouds started to form quickly and it was clear that it was time to head down before the afternoon thunderstorms moved in.

We made quick work of the chossy SE face of Paiute Peak down to Blue Lake and Lake Mitchell.  It was steep and loose, but we made it down safely just before the rain and thunder started.  Once we were back on the trail, it was a quick hike back to the truck.  On the way home, we enjoyed some of Nederland’s finest BBQ while rehydrating (where we also ran into buddy Bob and some other climbing partners), making it a just-about-perfect Colorado day.

Continental Divide Traverse – 8.24.2013


Click picture above for brief slideshow – James Peak (13,294′)

I awakened at 3:30am this past Saturday morning to attempt a long traverse on the Continental Divide above Winter Park, CO, that I had been eying for a while.  Great friend and long-time climbing partner, Bob Berger, joined me for this full day on the Divide just south of Colorado’s Indian Peaks and Rocky Mountain National Park.  We started as the sun broke above the eastern horizon at Berthoud Pass and summited 6 peaks ranging between 12,500′ to 13,400′ before descending St. Mary’s Glacier to complete a 12-mile traverse with a 4,500′ vertical gain (and ~5,500′ of descent).

It was a great day in the high-country, although it seems that the seasons are already in transition up there.  It was a blustery day and we spent much of it in the clouds despite our early start.  We quickly ascended 12,497′ Colorado Mines Peak, from which we could see the rest of the long day ahead of us.  Most of the terrain was Class I or Class II, so we made good time across the subsequent peaks, which included:  Mt. Flora (13,146′), Mt. Eva (13,130′), Parry Peak A (13,391′), Mt. Bancroft (13,250′) and James Peak (13,294′).

The final ridge connecting Mt. Bancroft to James Peak was a slightly more interesting and engaging Class III scramble that added some much-needed spice to an otherwise straightforward day.  We reached the summit of James Peak by midday in a whiteout, so it was clear we needed to make a quick retreat below treeline.  We made it to my truck just as the thunder, lightning and rain started, so we timed our day well.  After a quick stop at The Buffalo in Idaho Springs for a burger and some mandatory electrolyte replacement therapy, our day was complete.

This successful traverse puts me at 20 summits, half way to my goal, with about 30 weeks to go.  Many of the weekends this fall look busy, so I’ll likely need the cushion to keep me on pace.  More to come…

DeCaLiBro Loop – 8.17.2013


Summit of Mt. Lincoln (14,286′) – click for brief slideshow

Carla, Camden and I set-up camp last week at Kite Lake in the heart of the Mosquito Range in central Colorado.  Kite Lake is conveniently located at the base of four of Colorado’s 14,000’+ peaks.  The following morning we set out on an ambitious climb, although not technically difficult, of all four of these 14,000’+ mountains via their connecting ridges.

The route is named after the first letters of each peak in the cirque:  Mt. Democrat (14,148′), Mt. Cameron (14,238′), Mt. Lincoln (14,286′), and Mt. Bross (14,172′).  Hence the name the DeCaLiBro loop.  It was a beautiful day, which allowed us to take our time and let some of the crowds clear out in front of us, so that we were able to have the final three summits virtually to ourselves.  Camden managed to wear through one of his shoes (after only 7 mountains – c’mon!  Gonna have to send those back!), but other than that we were none the worse for wear after a total vertical gain of 3,700′ over the 7-mile loop. It was yet another great day in the Colorado high-country.

For those keeping count at home, that makes for 14 peaks completed, or 26 more to go, with 32 weeks remaining to do so.  So far, so good.

10 Down – 30 To Go

Click for SlideshowAfter a relatively quiet week upon my return home from the epic outing on Mt. Jefferson, it was time to return to the hills.  I am very happy to report that Craig is mending well (his ribs were, in fact, broken).  Although he’s still feeling a bit roughed up (as one might expect), it appears that he’ll be back at it in no time, which is great news for all of us that were involved.  Happy healing, buddy!

In order to ease back into things, I chose to get in some altitude work while not doing anything exceptionally challenging.  For the past two weekends I’ve been sticking to the “dog routes” on some of Colorado’s beautiful 14,000’+ peaks (the 14-ers).  Camden has been my steady companion on these outings and has completed three 14-ers already.  That’s more than a lot of people in Colorado can claim, so he has certainly earned his mountain-dog stripes as of late.

Carla joined us for a quick 4.5 mile round-trip hike up the west ridge of Mt. Evans (14,264′) via Mt. Spalding (13,842′) on a beautiful Saturday morning.  We successfully got up and down prior to the midday thunderstorms moving in on us.  Camden and I repeated this success this past Saturday on Grays Peak (14,270′) and Torreys Peak (14,267′) in an 8+ mile day with 3,600′ of vertical gain in just over 4 hours, so he’s a pretty efficient climber on Class 2 terrain.  It looks like he’s going to be my climbing buddy on many of the 30 peaks that I have left to complete my self-imposed 40 peaks in 40 weeks challenge, at least on those that are Class 2 or below.

Mt. Jefferson EPIC – 7.20.2013

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Helicopter rescue at 11pm on 7.20.2013 at 9,200′ on Mt. Jefferson’s Whitewater Glacier – Click for slideshow

Mountaineering is an inherently dangerous undertaking that has many underlying risks, including:  falls, avalanches, rockfall, icefall, crevasses, seracs, cold injuries (frostbite, hypothermia, etc.), altitude sickness (AMS, HAPE, HACE), weather, etc.  So, we do not head into the hills lightly and typically work very hard to mitigate any and all hazards as much as is possible.

That said, this past weekend, I joined long-time climbing partners Craig & Mark and their friend Bob on a climb of Mt. Jefferson (10,497′) in central Oregon.  Mt. Jefferson is a difficult peak despite its lower altitude and as a result is not often climbed.  It is known for its rotten, volcanic rock that is very loose while it’s ridges and faces are quite steep.  It is this combination that makes Mt. Jefferson a tough and potentially dangerous mountain to climb.

After some debate and pre-planning, we decided to attempt the Jefferson Park Glacier to the upper knife-edged ridge route to the summit.  The crux, we determined, would be the bergschrund (the large glacier that separates the lower Jefferson Park Glacier from the upper headwall).  If it hadn’t melted out too much, we should be able to negotiate it and attain the upper mountain.

We completed the 7-mile hike to our base camp while gaining 4,000′ from the trailhead, so by the time we arrived at our camp in the early evening we were all pretty tired.  We ate a quick dinner and went to sleep for an early alpine start.  By 4:15am we were climbing and quickly reached the bergschrund at sunrise.  Fortunately, it was still in good shape and we were able to negotiate our way up and over it.  From there, it was fun climbing up the steep snow of the headwall, on and over the 4th and 5th class NW Ridge and up the final summit block.  There was a lot of loose rock, but we moved deliberately and safely to the summit by 8:30am.

We then descended the west face and down to the Terrible Traverse, which is a 50+ degree snowfield that we had to traverse to get to the Red Saddle and the SE Ridge for the safest route of descent.  We protected this dangerous section that had a 1,500′ run-out (which would make for a very long, body-mangling fall) with a running belay and made quick work of the rest of the descent to the Whitewater Glacier that we would have to traverse for ~2 miles back to our camp.  The hard part of the climb was over and accordingly we all let our guard down a little bit.

With the heat of the midday sun reflecting off the icy glacier, temperatures were hot so we were all in short-sleeves and took our helmets off since we were clear of any rockfall hazards.  At this point in the season, the snow of the glacier had melted considerably so the crevasses that were once buried and hidden under the winter snows were now visible and easily avoided.  As such, we didn’t rope up, as is standard practice on a crevassed glacier – particularly early in a climbing season.

About 1pm, we were traversing quickly and were only about an hour from our camp when I found an ice axe in the snow and asked Bob to affix it to my pack.  He did so, and this put us about 50 feet behind Craig and Mark.  They paused briefly as they approached a heavily crevassed area.  As we approached them, Bob suggested that we rope-up just as Craig probed a significant looking snow bridge crossing a large crevasse and suddenly the whole world changed…

Craig simply disappeared.  With a whoomph, the entire snow bridge gave way and Craig plummeted into the abyss.

I froze momentarily in absolute shock and disbelief.  Then my heart sank.  I was convinced that I had just witnessed the death of a dear friend.

Then Mark started yelling, “Get the rope!  Get the rope!”, which snapped me back to the present.  Bob replied that the rope was, in fact, in Craig’s pack…  My heart sank again.

As we yelled into the void, we heard Craig’s voice, weak and strained, but we heard it nonetheless.  Hope was not lost.  At least not yet.  Mark was able to peer down into the crevasse and could see that Craig was mostly buried about 30 feet below us, but his right arm was free and he had been able to scrape his face clean with a carabiner so he could breathe as well.  We still had time to get to him and get him out of there.

So, we sprang into action and improvised a rope from all of the remaining gear we had left.  We girth hitched runners, webbing, web-o-lets, etc. together to form a 40-foot rope.  As we went to lower Mark into the hole, I noticed that the lip of the crevasse we were on was completely overhung and corniced.  We risked knocking all of that down onto Craig and burying him permanently, so we had to back off and look for other options.

Bob suggested, correctly, that we move to the opposite side of the crevasse where we could set-up safe anchors and avoid knocking anything down on Craig.  We had to carefully avoid several crevasses to get to the other side and set up our anchors.  By the time we achieved all of that, 30-minutes or so had passed.  Time was of the essence.  We had to get to Craig immediately and get him out of there before he succumbed to hypothermia.

Additionally, the large snow bridge that collapsed with Craig and then partially buried him was 10′ across by 20′ long and subsequently wedged into the tapering crevasse 30′ down. The snow bridge was dense and held there but it could go at any time since the crevasse was closer to 100′ deep in total.  If Craig slipped any further down the crevasse we might not be able to get to him.

Bob and I lowered Mark into the crevasse via a hip belay on our improvised rope.  Mark proceeded to dig Craig out of the packed ice and snow around him using an ice axe.  By the time Craig was finally freed from the snow, another 30 minutes had passed.  Craig was getting increasingly hypothermic.

Mark got some warmer layers out of Craig’s pack and put them on him.  He also retrieved the rope from Craig’s pack.  After securing himself and Craig to the crevasse wall using an ice screw to ensure they didn’t fall any further down into the crevasse, Mark told us to pull up the improvised rope that now had our actual climbing rope attached.

Bob and I quickly set-up the pulley systems and anchors that would allow us to pull Craig and Mark up out of the hole and sent the rope back down to Mark.  Mark tied Craig into the rope and we started pulling.  With the mechanical advantage of the systems we had built, we got Craig quickly up to the lip of the crevasse.  However, the snow at the crevasses’ edge was so soft that the rope bit into it several feet and we could only lift him to the point where we could see his head, but no further.

Fortunately, I was able to flag down the only other two climbers we saw on the mountain the entire day as they descended from the summit near us.  They came over and provided some additional manpower as we continued to struggle to get Craig over the lip of the crevasse to relative safety.  Another hour passed and we were gaining only inches at a time.  Craig was in and out of being lucid and was occasionally unconscious for brief periods.

By this point, Craig was severely hypothermic.  He was belligerent (more so than normal), and he had no use of his hands, arms or legs.  Essentially, he was unable to help us at all as we struggled to get his soaking wet, shaking, incapacitated, large body back to the surface.

Finally, we were able to get his arms up and over the lip of the crevasse and could pull him up a bit further by his armpits.  Inch by inch we made progress until we could finally reach his harness and yank him up and out of the crevasse.  He was unbelievably cold by then with a core temperature likely below 90 degrees.  This was 2+ hours after his initial fall into the crevasse.

His first words once on the surface, to no one in particular, were “I think I’m going to die.”  Not that he thought he was going to die while he was in the crevasse, but rather that he was so cold and injured that at that point he thought he wasn’t going to make it.  I quickly assured him that that was NOT the case and that he was going to be just fine (or so I hoped).

We stripped Craig of his wet clothes and got him into some warm, dry ones as well as into a couple of sleeping bags and a bivvy sack.  The priority in these situations is always to get the victim out of the crevasse, get them warmed-up and then assess other injuries, since suffocation and/or hypothermia are the most immediate and life-threatening risks.  Upon assessing Craig’s other injuries, he was clearly beat-up with bloodied hands and mouth, bruised face and protruding ribs.  He was understandably in a lot of pain.

With Craig no longer in immediate danger, we quickly turned to Mark and extracted him from the crevasse.  He had been down there 90 minutes or so and was drenched due to the snow melting on top of him in a constant downpour.  He was also hypothermic, but still able to assist us with the extraction using his ice axe and we quickly got him to the surface again.

Once everyone was secure on the surface, the other two climbers who assisted us with the rescue headed down to make a 911 call as soon as they attained a cell signal.  Soon after they departed for the trailhead to summon help, Mark and I descended to our camp to gather our sleeping bags, sleeping pads, stoves, fuel, etc. in order to set-up our overnight bivvy on the glacier at the site of the accident since we couldn’t move Craig without risking further injury.

Several hours later and an hour or so before sunset, Mark & I returned to the accident site with all of our gear.  We dug sleeping platforms for each of us in the icy, 30-degree slope, fastened ourselves to the mountain so that we didn’t roll into a crevasse in our sleep and settled in for a long, cold night.

Unexpectedly, we were awakened at 11pm by the sound of helicopter rotors cutting into the night sky.  Soon a spotlight was on us and a blackhawk from the National Guard was overhead.  The para-rescuer was lowered to the glacier where I tethered him to my anchor.  The metal litter came down next and careened through the air dangerously due to all of the rotor-wash reflecting off of the 30-degree snow slope.  Bob was able to secure that and bring it down to where Craig was.  We quickly transferred Craig to the litter, secured him tightly, and he was on his way skyward.  They finally maneuvered the careening litter and his size 15 feet into the helicopter.  The para-rescuer followed next and suddenly the night fell silent and Bob, Mark and I sat in disbelief of all that we had just been through over the past 11 hours.

At sunrise, and after a very cold night on the glacier, Mark, Bob and I packed-up our gear and descended to the trailhead, where we arrived midday to find our friend Todd awaiting our arrival with beer, chips and sandwiches.  It was one of the best meals I have ever eaten.  We then headed to the hospital in Salem to check on Craig.

It turned out that Craig sustained dislocated & broken ribs, a bruised liver and heart arrhythmia due to the severe hypothermia.  His heart returned to normal once his body warmed and had the chance to recover from the shock of severe hypothermia.  He is certainly very lucky to be alive, with limited injuries that will heal fully in time, while we’re all incredibly thankful for the outcome given the dire circumstances.

It was a surreal experience… our strong, competent team made the best of a very bad situation and literally saved not just a man’s life, but the life of a dear friend.  I am extremely grateful for the outcome and the efforts of so many that made the positive outcome possible.  All we can do now is count our collective blessings, learn from the experience, and not repeat any of the mistakes (however small and innocent they may have been at the time) moving forward.

Telluride 4th of July

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Summit of Wilson Peak (14,017′) – Click for slideshow

My family came out for the 4th of July and we went to one of my favorite places, Telluride, CO.  We had a tremendous time exploring the area for the week.  We started with a hike up Ajax Peak (12,875′) at the end of the box canyon.  It was my nephew Will’s first big hike to nearly 13,000′ and he did great, as did my pup, Camden.  My sister-in-law, Caroline, and my brother, Mike, made the trip up in great form as well.  The views of Telluride and the surrounding San Juan mountains made the effort well worth it and it was great to be up there with Will on his first big outing.  Robust smiles were shared all around.

Mike and I then set our sights a little higher and climbed the iconic Wilson Peak (14,017′) via the SW Ridge.  Wilson Peak, the inspiration for the Coors Light label, is a perfect pyramid shaped peak and simply a stunning mountain.  We put in a long, hard day over a lot of Class 3 terrain, but we made it and were rewarded with beautiful weather (despite some 50mph gusts) and great views.  It was Mike’s first Colorado 14er, but certainly won’t be his last.  It was a memorable climb and it’s always a pleasure to get out with my big bro when time and schedules allow.  As a bonus, standing atop Wilson Peak and Ajax Peak added two summits to my 40 peaks in 40 weeks objective bringing the early total to five successful climbs.

We also traversed the rugged 4×4 jeep trail from Ouray up and over Imogene Pass (13,114′) to Telluride.  It was a full-day outing, but the views made the rough going tolerable.  The 4th of July parade in town is always a pleasure as well.  Will was right in the mix this year and walked away with quite the stash of candy accumulated from those floats generous enough to keep the blood sugar levels maxed for the children of Telluride.  There were some elbows flying in the scrum, but he held his own and then some.

The week went by entirely too quickly, as they all seem to, but we had a great time and are already looking forward to planning next year’s 4th of July adventure.  Perhaps, Jackson Hole, the Tetons and Yellowstone.

40 Peaks in 40 Weeks

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Click for slideshow – ski ascent/descent of James Peak (13,300′)

I spent much of the winter and spring working on my new venture while managing to get into the hills from time-to-time.  Bob and I backed out of the Elk Mountain Grand Traverse race in March due to the terrible blisters I suffered on our 22-mile training run to/from Friends Hut near Crested Butte the week before the race.  Custom boot liners followed soon thereafter.

We did a few other ski outings, up St. Mary’s glacier in 60mph winds and up Torreys Peak’s flanks, in anticipation of an early-season climb of Mt. Hood in Oregon.  Stormy weather changed that objective before we even got on the plane, so we headed to Crystal Mountain (near Mt. Rainier in Washington state) with good buddy Craig to take advantage of all the fresh snow and ski powder instead of post-hole up to our waists on Mt. Hood.  It was the best Plan B trip I’ve had in a long time.

Soon thereafter, I was abruptly confronted by my 40th birthday.  I decided it was time to get back in “Everest-type” shape, having slacked-off since my return last year, and resolved to climb 40 peaks in 40 weeks.  The first outing, pictured above (more pictures available by clicking the picture and going to a brief slideshow), was a ski ascent & descent of James Peak (13,300′) with Ben, Esmond & Porter.  It was a beautiful, splitter day and a great way to start off this quest.  I followed this up with a solo climb of Mt. Bierstadt (14,060′) linked together with Mt. Evans (14,264′) via the Sawtooth Ridge.  It was a full day and a lot of fun, particularly the interesting scrambling along the Sawtooth.

So, with this new mission in front of me, look for more posts and pictures on this blog as I work towards the 40 peak objective and build toward some tough and interesting challenges that are on my radar.