Watusi Rodeo

The high-pressure temperature inversion was forecasted to last through MLK weekend, so at a leisurely hour on Sunday morning, Mark Bunker and I headed up Highway 20 to Colonial Peak. The north face of Colonial was first climbed in 1986 by Mark Twight, Mark Bebie, John Stoddard and Monte Westlund, by a central route they named "Watusi Rodeo." It's only seen a handful of ascents since, but is an impressive face, and one I'd been eyeing for several years. Although completely reasonable as a car-to-car day route, we decided just to approach on Sunday, since the days are still so short.

The north face of Colonial Peak from the basin above Colonial Creek. There were 4,500 ft. of crampons-required terrain from here to the summit, although the face proper is only 1,500 ft:


Soloing moderate terrain on the first part of the face:


Conditions in the Cascades are currently more spring-like than winter-like, which makes for excellent alpine ice conditions. Mark leading the first of two fat ice pitches:


Coming up to Mark's belay with the second fat ice pitch above:


After the ice pitches it was unclear what would be the best way to climb the upper rock bands. The route was chose worked fine, but was not easy. In fact, while traversing some steep rock bare-handed I ripped off a handhold and took my second-ever lead fall while alpine climbing! Fortunately, I had just placed a good pin, and the fall was uneventful. Some of the plentiful step-kicking between steeper pitches:


Cumbre! We made it down to our bivy just before dark, and then after melting more snow slogged back down to the car:

North Face of Shuksan

After climbing the Supercanaleta I had barely enough time to pack my bags and catch a bus out of El Chalten, because I was already overdue for the start of winter quarter. I think I slept a total of less than eight hours between the summit of Fitz and my home in Seattle! I've been super busy living the city life, and trying to get caught up in school work. Fortunately though, I have no classes on Thursdays this quarter, and neither does my brother, Booth. So with a forecast for sunny skies and unseasonably high freezing levels, we decided for a ski-mountaineering trip up Mt. Shuksan.

Traversing from the Mt. Baker ski area towards the North Face, which is the left skyline:


Climbing the North Face:


Circumnavigating most the summit pyramid to climb it from the Sulphide Glacier side:


Climbing rime on the summit pyramid:


Los hermanos Haley al cumbre:


Putting skins back on en-route to the White Salmon Glacier, which we skied down in fading light. Mt. Baker behind:

Supercanaleta Solo: A Slightly Long-Winded Description

One of the reasons why my trips to Patagonia have always been among my most cherished climbing trips is because I have always broken new personal ground in terms of my climbing. All four of my previous trips to El Chalten resulted in what was at the time my best climbing achievement: Aguja Poincenot with Bart Paull my first trip, Fitz Roy with Mark Westman my second trip, the Marsigny-Parkin-to-West-Face linkup on Cerro Torre with Kelly Cordes on my third trip, and last year accompanying Rolando Garibotti on the Torres Traverse. Climbing the Care Bear Traverse with Rolo this December was absolutely fantastic climbing, likely the most enjoyable climb I've done down here, but did not feel extremely serious or mentally taxing. And so, after a month of bad weather following the Care Bear Traverse (actually, there was one 1.5-day window at New Year's that I missed due to a respiratory infection), and with my ticket home looming imminently, it seemed that my spell of making personal progress every trip to Patagonia had finally come to it's inevitable end. But then, as the Patagonian weather seems prone to do, it decided to give me one last-minute opportunity to challenge myself...

Since Rolo had gone back to the US, I decided that I wanted to attempt to solo something. I had never soloed anything in Patagonia, and in fact I hadn't really done any hard soloing since I was seventeen in The Cascades, but I felt motivated again for that kind of adventure. Fitz Roy's Supercanaleta was an obvious choice. It is big (1,600m), classic, hard enough that I knew it would be quite challenging for me, but a sane idea because I had climbed it last year with Maxime Turgeon, and thus knew what to expect.

On Tuesday I hiked up from El Chalten to my camp on the Torre Glacier. I had just taken the last pill of a course of azithromycin that morning, and still felt a bit weak from my lingering respiratory infection. But Patagonia presents so few opportunities that you can't afford to miss any, and the weather forecast for Wednesday and Thursday was decent - not great, but probably good enough.

On Wednesday, Jan. 7, I left my camp on the Torre Glacier at 3:10am, while it was still rather windy, and snowing lightly. Although the weather didn't look promising, I had nothing to lose in approaching the route, and headed toward the Filo del Hombre Sentado ('Sitting Man Ridge,' which divides the Torre Valley from the Glaciar Fitz Roy Norte Valley). Fresh snow on the Filo del Hombre Sentado slowed my progress on the fourth and low fifth-class rock, but shortly after first light I nonetheless reached the ridgecrest, approximately 1,000 meters above my camp in the Torre Valley. It is then necessary to downclimb about 200 meters off the north side of the Filo del Hombre Sentado, but this deposits one immediately below the Supercanaleta. The weather still looked menacing, but I rationalized that the couloir itself would be easy to downclimb if necessary, kicked steps up the snow cone below the couloir, and crossed the bergschrund at about 6:00am.

The majority of the elevation gain on the Supercanaleta is made in the couloir proper, and the difficulties here were moderate, with just a few steps of AI3. So I made good time to the jammed block where the real technical difficulties begin, albeit a bit tired from a lot of swinging and front-pointing. I took a break at the jammed block to eat, drink, rest, and bust out the rope and rack; I had brought one 60m 7.5mm rope, 1 ice screw, 8 Camalots, 3 pitons, 8 Stoppers, and a small selection of slings and carabiners. I tied into the middle of the rope so that I had one 30m length for hauling my pack, and the other 30m length to quickly set up a self belay where necessary.

The first pitch above the jammed block was steep and delicate; I had to take off my gloves for a few moves, and then endure the 'screaming barfies' as my fingers re-warmed above. The waterfall ice pitches above were in lean condition, but it didn't make them much more difficult. Pulling over a bulge of steep ice onto a lower-angled section, I was suddenly confronted with Frank, half-exposed from the ice. Other than doctored bodies in coffins at funerals, I had never seen a dead body before, especially one that had been exposed to the elements for years. I must admit that I felt sick to my stomach and thought I might vomit. More than anything else, seeing Frank was a grim and sobering reminder of the consequences if I made any mistakes - Frank fell while attempting to solo the California Route, and has been frozen on the Supercanaleta route ever since.

Shortly above the waterfall pitches the route leaves the couloir and trends up mixed terrain on the right wall. There were several delicate sections here, including one where I set up a quick self-belay, but before too long I reached the ridgecrest and junction with the California Route. It was about 1:00pm, so I felt I had made good time to this point, but I could tell that trend was about to change - the last several pitches climb up and around several towers on the ridgecrest, and contain the hardest rock climbing on the route. I had brought rock shoes and a chalkbag hoping to use them on this section, but not only was it far too cold to don rock shoes, but the ridge was severely rimed up. I immediately set up a self-belay for a 5.9+ traverse, and after climbing through it spent nearly fifteen minutes dealing with my rope and pack as they snagged on all the fins of rime sticking out from the rock. On a steep, thin crack a couple pitches higher I chose to solo-aid, making sure to always be clipped to at least two good cams at a time. The last technical pitch is the hardest on the entire route, and this was the only place were I set up a traditional self-belay, which meant that I had to climb the pitch, rappel back down the pitch, and then prussik back up. The weather had remained iffy all day, but while prussiking back up this pitch it took a turn yet worse, and I was buffeted by strong winds and lots of snow in the air.

It was a great relief to finally reach the third-class terrain that leads to Fitz Roy's summit - partly because I was happy to have successfully finished the route, but more because I then knew I would be descending the Franco-Argentine Route, and all day I had been dreading the possibility of having to descend the Supercanaleta with just one rope. I reached the now-familiar boulder on Fitz Roy's summit at 8:20pm. I had already run out of food and water, and was utterly exhausted (from my camp on the Torre Glacier it is 2,600 meters of elevation gain, including the elevation lost descending the north side of Filo del Hombre Sentado). Although I have been to many places that are far more remote, I don't think I've ever felt more out on a limb than alone on the summit of Fitz Roy with bad weather, 2.5 hours of daylight left, and one rope.

I had rappelled the Franco-Argentine route four times before, and the previous knowledge was invaluable. There are two places where I have normally made 50m overhanging rappels, so I wasted no time - I wanted to be sure to navigate alternate rappels through these areas while there was daylight left. I finally turned on my headlamp only a few rappels above La Silla, and before too long made my way down to the Brecha de los Italianos. I spent about 45 minutes climbing all over the Brecha de los Italianos looking in vain for a series of fixed ropes that I heard an Italian expedition had left at the beginning of the season, but finally gave up and started down the terrain I was familiar with. I was so tired at this point that every rappel was taking about twice as long as they had at first, but I finally made the last rappel over the bergshrund onto the Piedras Blancas glacier, and took off my harness. I never looked at my watch, but I think it must have been somewhere around 1:30-2:00am. I spent the next nine hours slowly stumbling down the glacier and out the trail to the road, mostly in 20-minute intervals of walking separated by episodes of falling asleep while shivering, sitting-up on my backpack.

Compared to the routes I climbed the past two years with Kelly and Rolo, the Supercanaleta is a very easy route, so I certainly didn't continue my trend of leaving Patagonia with my best-ever climbing route. However, the strain and intensity of climbing it alone, particularly in mediocre weather and with mediocre conditions, made it I think the overall hardest day I have every spent in the mountains. While still enveloped in the stress of the solo, I remember thinking to myself, 'OK, enough of that. I don't think I'll bother with any hard soloing again for quite a while.' Of course only half a day later I already began to view the experience in a different light, and wonder about what else might be fitting objectives for a solo adventure in the future - funny how that works!

Photos taken while soloing are notoriously lame, so I'll try to make up for the lack of quality with quantity.

The view east toward Filo del Hombre Sentado and Cerro Pollone from the base of the Supercanaleta. Not confidence-inspiring weather:


The view up the Supercanaleta from just above the bergschrund:


Looking up somewhere in the middle of the couloir:


Concerned about the weather:


The first technical pitches above the jammed block:


Bringing my pack up to my stance above the first section of steep cimbing:


The waterfall ice sections were in lean condition:


Looking up above the waterfall ice sections. The route heads out on the right wall before the chimney-ish feature in the gully proper:


Looking down some delicate mixed terrain to the right of the 'red tower, ' just below the juncture with the California Route:


The upper towers were not rock-shoe-friendly:


Looking back across the 5.9+ traverse, and all the pesky rime fins that the rope and pack will get stuck on:


Looking down the ridge with Torre Piergorgio in the background:


Looking down the 'flaring mixed grade:'


Aid-soloing the steep, thin crack:


The last, crux pitch climbs up and left on the diagonal cracks:


Looking down the crux pitch while climbing it with a traditional self-belay:


On the summit, cold, tired and anxious:


____________________________________________________________________________________
Being the expert Patagonia historian that he is, Rolando Garibotti sent me this list he compiled of previous Fitz solos:

- Renato Casarotto (Goretta pillar) 79 Italy
- Thomas Bubendorfer (Californian) 86 Austria
- Miroslaw Smid (Californian) 2/90 Cz
- Yasushi Yamanoi (Californian-in winter) 7/90 Japan
- Miyazaki Motohiko (Franco Argentine) 2/94 Japan
- Cristoph Hainz (Franco Argentine-9 hours from basecamp to summit) 12/94 Italy
- Dean Potter (Supercanaleta - 6.5 hours from base of the route) 02?
- Dean Potter (Californian)

Yves Astier (F) claimed a solo of the Californian in 85, but there is good reason to believe it was a tall tale.
____________________________________________________________________________________

La Nueva Patagonia

I've been in El Chalten about a week and a half now, and have had some time to soak up the new changes. El Chalten has been growing and changing very dramatically in just the five years since my first trip here, and each time I come there are a slew of new buildings and paradigm shifts in the climbing scene here. Last year I realized that there were just as many climbers here to boulder and sport climb as there were for alpine climbing, which is not particularly surprising since the bouldering is very good and much of South America is too hot for good rock climbing at this time of year.

The most significant material changes to town this year are that half of the roads are now paved, Campomento Madsen has been shut down allowing for almost no free camping, and prices continue to rise (A good measure of the cost of living here is my beloved snack food: empanadas. Three years ago they were one peso each, and now they are three pesos each - a 300% price increase in three years!) For better or worse, El Chalten will continue to evolve from a rural outpost to a bustling tourist destination.

While I can't help but slightly lament the changes to town, the changes in the climbing scene are exciting. Continuing the trend of the past few years, virtually no climbers are staying at Campo Bridwell, Campomento Rio Blanco or Piedra del Fraile - everyone lives in town now, and simply caches equipment up high for quick approaches when good weather arrives. The most exciting change I have noticed this year is the frequency with which the local Argentine climbers are attacking the big routes. In the past years that I have climbed here it seemed like a few Argentine climbers (Rolando Garibotti of course, Ramiro Calvo, and a few others) tackled big routes, but most remained on the smaller routes. This year the local Argentine climbers are equally confident in attempting big routes as the European and North American visitors.

Cerro Torre's West Face has seen a huge amount of traffic recently. The last pitch was painstakingly "carved out" as usual by the first ascent of the season (Ackerman-Aguilo-Cabezas-Villavicencio-Pietron-Garibotti), and subsequent ascents have benefited from the hard work. Rolando Garibotti, the most expert historian on Patagonian climbing, has compiled an excellent summary of the activity on Cerro Torre:

_______________________________________________________________________________________
Via dei Ragni, Cerro Torre West Face.
Info compiled by Rolando Garibotti

Twenty one people have climbed the Ragni route on the West Face of Cerro Torre in the last two weeks, more than all previous ascents combined. In comparison, this season there has been only one ascent of the Compressor route. It appears that the climbing community has finally come to understand that an ascent of the Compressor route is not really an ascent of Cerro Torre. It is as if overnight everyone stopped climbing Everest with oxygen, fixed rope and sherpa support. This is a humongous step forward for the Patagonian climbing scene. While Maestri’s bolts remain in place, the climbing community appears to have been able to finally give them a cold shoulder.

Ascents to the summit.
1- Daniele Chiappa, Mario Conti, Casimiro Ferrari, and Pino Negri (Italy), January 1974. This was the first ascent of the mountain.
2- John Bragg, Dave Carman and Jay Wilson (USA) January 1977. Second ascent of the peak. First Alpine Style.
3- Michael Bearzi and Eric Winkelmann (USA) February 1986. First free ascent.
4- Simon Elias and Josu Merino (Spain) February 1997 via the West Face Route.
5- Ramiro Calvo, Gabriel and Luciano Fiorenza, Max Odell, Walter Rossini (Arg) and Bruno Sourzac (France) December 2005. Bruno Sourzac made the first free and leash-less ascent.
6- Kelly Cordes and Colin Haley (USA) January 2007 approaching via Los Tiempos Perdidos (south face).
7- Jorge Ackermann, Tomas Aguilo, Charly Cabezas and Matias Villavicencio (Arg), and Rolando Garibotti (no country-or 3?), and Doerte Pietron (Germany). Doerte's is the first female ascent of the route, and the 6th female ascent of the peak (after Rossana Manfrini, Inez Bozic, Cathy Cosely, Monika kambic and Tanja Gromosek), and the first female ascent without using Maestri's Compressor route bolts. December 1, 2008.
8- Ole Lied and Trym Atle Saeland (Norway) approaching via the SE ridge by traversing above the south face. A snow mushroom along the SE ridge forced them to use some of Maestri's bolts before traversing west. December 2nd, 2008. This is the much talked about "Corkscrew" link-up, originally discussed by the English and Argentine expedition in 1968 (Fonrouge, Haston, etc). A "bolt-free" ascent of the "Corkscrew" link up remains to be done.
9- Mateo Bernasconi and Fabio Salini (Italy). December 2nd, 2008.
10- Julien Dusserre, Pierre Labbre, Baptiste Rostaing Puissant and Jerome Para (France). December 9, 2008.
11- Walter Hungerbuhler. First solo ascent of the route, first solo ascent of Cerro Torre without Maestri’s bolts, 5th solo ascent of the peak. December 9, 2008.
12- Nico Benedetti, Flavio "Manzana" Renzacci, Fernando "Capi" Irrazabal and Jimmy Heredia (Arg). December 9, 2008.
13- Cullen Kirk (USA) and Bjorn-Eivind Artun (Norway). In 13 hours from Niponinos to the summit via the Standhardt col. December 9, 2008.

Ascents to the base of the final 40 foot summit mushroom.
1- Dan Cauthorn and Jon Krakauer (USA) 1992.
2- David Authemann, Patrick Pessi and Fred Valet (France) 1994.
3- Thomas Ulrich, Stefan Siegrist and David Fasel (CH) and Greg Crouch (USA). Winter 1999.

Several other teams have reached the base of the mushroom pitch preceding the summit mushroom. This 50 meter vertical wall of cotton candy has turned numerous parties back, including Bruno Sourzac in 1997 that, not unlike a passionate lover returned after being rejected and finished the job eight years later.

The list of non-Compressor route ascents of Cerro Torre has now grown to 14 ascents, including the 12 of the 13 mentioned above (minus the recent Corkscrew ascent which used a few bolts), plus Alessandro Beltrami, Ermanno Salvaterra and Rolando Garibotti’s November 2005 ascent of El Arca de los Vientos; and Colin Haley and Rolando Garibotti’s January 2008 Torre Traverse finishing also via El Arca.
________________________________________________________________________________________


As for me, I arrived in El Chalten having already missed several days of incredible weather. Fortunately, more was on its way, and a few days later Rolo and I made a repeat ascent of "The Care Bear Traverse," a ridge traverse of Guillamet, Mermoz, and Fitz Roy, established last season by Freddie Wilkinson and Dana Drummond. Two young Argentine climbers, Jorge Ackermann and Tomas Aguilo, also repeated The Care Bear Traverse immediately behind us during the same weather window. All four of us descended Fitz Roy via the Franco-Argentine.

Rolo leading on the first day of our traverse, on the Brenner Ridge of Guillamet:


Jorge and Tomas below the summit of Mermoz:


Rolo leading a traversing pitch on the ridge between Mermoz and Fitz Roy:


Rolo following a pitch on the North Pillar of Fitz Roy (which we climbed via a combination of the Casarotto, the Kearney-Knight, and "Mate-Porro"):


Luciana and Doerte bivying on the top of Fitz Roy's North Pillar, having made the first female ascent of "Mate-Porro" to this high point:

Trym and Ole also repeated "Mate-Porro" to the top of the North Pillar. Between Rolo and I, Jorge and Tomas, Trym and Ole, and Luciana and Doerte, there were 8 people bivied on top of Fitz Roy's North Pillar at the same time! Rolo pointed out that 8 people have bivied here together once before: when Alan Kearney and Bobby Knight topped out their variation on the North Pillar, and encountered 6 Polish climbers who had just reached the top of the pillar from their gigantic dihedral route. "Mate, Porro, y Todo lo Demas," established last year by Rolo and Bean Bowers, has been one of the most popular routes on Fitz Roy recently, but has still yet to see an integral ascent from the base of the route to Fitz Roy's summit (all ascents have stopped at the top of the North Pillar).

Bad weather has finally returned to El Chalten, and thus things are beginning to feel a bit more normal...

Viaje al Verano!

I'm currently en route to El Chalten, Argentina, for my fifth trip to Patagonia. I just looked at the weather maps, and tragically there is a great weather window at this very moment, that looks like it will be closing just after I arrive in El Chalten... C'est la vie.

The rest of my time in the Red River Gorge was great, and I made good progress on my sport climbing. It is an almost totally unrelated form of climbing from alpinism, but nonetheless useful training, and super fun too.

My friend Bart snapped a few photos while I was working on "Resurrection," my first 12c, and "Tuna Town," my first 12d:

Sport Climbing 101

I was fortunate to hit a week of perfectly sunny weather while home in Seattle, and got in several great days of rock climbing at Index and Equinox Wall. But then of course the weather turned to more typical fall conditions (rain, rain, rain), and it was time to move on... to Kentucky (seriously)!

I've got just over three weeks here in the Red River Gorge before continuing down to Patagonia, which should be just long enough to regain rock climbing fitness from six weeks at 4,000+ meters. The climbing here is super fun and forgiving - almost all overhanging with big holds.

My friends Micah, Nellie, and John, along with the locals who make the Red River Gorge their home, are teaching me how to be a true sport climber. Lesson 1 was stick clipping:

Back in Seattle

Tomorrow evening will be the first time I've been home for more than 48 hours during the past 4 months! In mid June I left Seattle to spend 6 weeks in redneck, Southwest Montana, taking a 6-week geology field course that is the capstone of my geology BS. It was painful to spend 6 days a week in school, from 8am to 5pm, but I must admit that I learned some stuff.

After Montana I flew down to Salt Lake City for a few days for a Black Diamond meeting, and left almost immediately afterwards for Pakistan. This summmer I went to the Choktoi Glacier with Maxime Turgeon, Josh Wharton and Whit Magro - Max and I to attempt the Southeast Buttress of the Ogre, and Josh and Whit to attempt the north aspect of Latok I. In the end, none of us were able to make an honest attempt on our routes due to the weather. Early in the trip we had two 3-day windows, but they weren't quite long enough for Latok or the Ogre, and we weren't yet adequately acclimatized. Later we had a 6-day period of mediocre weather when, in hindsight, we should have made an attempt, but it's unlikely it would have been good enough for a decent summit chance. At the very last hour of the trip we thought a good window had finally come and set out for our routes, but Max and I had to turn around because our two cached ropes were hopelessly lost under about 3 meters of new snow (seriously), and Josh and Whit bailed because it was so cold (I have since concluded that the last week of September is getting a bit late for 7,000m peaks in the Karakorum, especially north-facing objectives).

Although absolutely insignificant compared to our main objectives, we did all get to do some satisfying climbing while acclimatizing. Josh and Whit climbed a 5,700m peak by a new route, and believe it was the first ascent of the peak. Max and I climbed a 5,900m peak by its aesthetic south ridge, and we are about 85% sure it was the first ascent of the peak, but we need to do more research to be sure. We are tentatively naming it "Baintha Kabata," which in Urdu means "Ogre's Son."

Basecamp below the spectacular north side of Latok I:


Max carrying gear up to the col at the base of the Southeast Buttress of the Ogre:


Setting V-threads while rapping down from the 5,500m col in a storm:


Max leading a rock pitch on the morning of the second day on Baintha Kabata:


Max following a slabby pitch a bit higher:


Max following a traverse across an icefield near the summit:


Back on the glacier. After a cold bivy at 5,700m, a full day of climbing and a night of V-threading down the west ridge, we were very tired:



On the way home from Pakistan I decided to stop in Oslo for a week. I had a wonderful time climbing and skiing further north in Norway a couple years ago, but had never checked out Oslo before. There are several crags and bouldering areas in Oslo that are accessible by the subway!

Camilla bouldering at a couple different subway-accessed areas:




I had about 20 hours at home after Norway before flying down to Ventura for a Patagonia design meeting, and then about 15 hours at home before flying to Anchorage for a slideshow at the Bearstooth Theatre. I had two days to play in Anchorage after the slideshow, and spent them mixed climbing up on Ptarmigan Peak in Chugach State Park. On Friday Scotty and I climbed a steep 4-pitch route called "Three-Headed Bitch," and I Saturday Clint and I climbed a longer, more moderate route called "Ski Tracks Gully." Scotty describes Ptarmigan well as "urban alpinism."

Clint following a pitch in Ski Tracks Gully:


Clint right below the summit of Ptarmigan, with saltwater behind:



Now I'm doing massive amounts of laundry, and catching up on all sorts of small tasks and errands. I swear I'll be home for at least 10 days...