The Perils Of The Approach

On the first of three or four times Merrick and I got lost approaching Mt. Slesse, we were unsure which road to take to get up the Nesawkwatch Creek Valley. In the packing rush we'd (well, I'd) forgotten to bring the book or a map, it was late and dark, and we were lost. We drove by a bunch of guys having a bonfire and drinking from a keg sitting on the bed of a pickup truck.

We approach them and ask if they know where we need to go. They have no idea, but in an effort to be helpful they give us bad beta.

Then one of them says to me "hey, you look like the Sedin twins! Hey, Johnny, buddy here really looks like the Sedins, eh?!" Johnny and company agree. I was baffled.
"who?"
"WHAT!!?? OH MY GOD, YOU MUST NOT BE FROM VANCOUVER!!!!"
Realizing that it must be a player for the Canucks , I began to wonder whether or not I could get my ass kicked for not knowing this who this doofus is. My mind then wandered to whether or not the fact that I was with a cute girl made my situation less or more precarious.
"HEY JOHNNY, BUDDY HERE DOESN'T KNOW WHO..."
"uh, well, I just moved there. Anyways, thanks, guys for the advice, and we better get goin..."

What does it mean to "climb" something?

What does it mean to "climb" something?

Oh fuck, philosophy.

But not me. You.

When climbers say they "climbed" something, they usually get specific. They redpointed, or bother to mention if they onsighted. If someone didn't "climb" something they often choose to be vague, saying they "got on" the 12d.

Once upon a time, I had a very healthy attitude towards climbing. If I got to the top of a climb, commonly hanging my way to the top, I checked it off in the guidebook, told my friends that I did it, and forgot about it. I had "climbed" it. Even my mom would agree.

Of course, getting obsessed with the rules took the fun out of climbing. I've since returned to the basics. If my mom would agree that I climbed it, then I did.

Me, climbing.  Photo by Jed Brown.

This was a day dream rant that I had a long time ago. I just mentioned it to The Legendary Nick Elson, and he mentioned that it would make a good blog post, since that is on his mind lately. I figured I wasn't really qualified, since I'm not exactly pushing any sorts of standards (perhaps pushing them off a cliff).  But actually, this is armchair alpinism at its finest, and few are more qualified than me. So I'll go on. 

When Jed and Jeff climbed the Cutthroat Couloir they climbed "to the end of the difficulties", reaching the ridge on the first day. I asked them if they had time left that day to descend. Easily, they said. "You should have - then you could claim that you were modern alpinists doing a speedy repeat." Instead they built a snowcave and spent the next day summiting and one more descending. I suppose they thought they had to summit in order to say that they climbed the mountain. My mom would agree.

But not everyone does. "How can you climb a new route on a mountain without actually climbing the mountain?" almost anyone's mom would wonder. Good question.

(not to pick on Kruk and Walsh - they hardly the invented the notion of climbing the feature they intended, going down, and calling it "firing a new line".)

Admittedly, all activities become more complex and layered as you delve further in.  Hence all the ways that climbers have invented to have "climbed" a route.  But I don't like the idea of saying that you climbed a route on a mountain that you've never climbed, and I didn't like being told that I didn't climb a route that I damn well did.  See what I mean?  I think it would pay to return to the basics - what does your mom think?  Did you climb it or didn't you?  It ain't that complex.

David Lama, Cerro Torre, Redbull

I realized that in order to be a legitimate blog even remotely pertaining to climbing I have to comment on the latest David Lama/Cerro Torre controversy. So here I am to broadcast my utter disgust:

Who gives a shit? Its just a fucking rock. You know some people in the world don't have enough to eat?

The Bugaboos, August 2010

Summary: we sent that shit.

Bugaboo Spire, NE Ridge

It was my first trip to the Bugs, and Neale's first that oughta count. As is often the case, I was pretty out of shape when we went. At least out of rock climbing shape. Neale, as is often the case, was in shape and was like a border collie after a tennis ball. This created drama nearly from the start - for example, the day we arrived at Applebee Neale couldn't help but notice that it was still early afternoon and the sun was shining. I couldn't help but notice that I was exhausted from the hike in. Neale soloed the tower right near camp, and I rested.

The next morning dawned partly cloudy. Neale thought we should climb. I thought we should sleep. We were both right, but we succeeded in climbing the NE Ridge of Bugaboo Spire anyway.

I say we were both right about sleeping in, because it was socked-in up high.

And the summit shot. The whole time we were in the Bugs I was obsessed with making this face in every photo. Get used to it. Sometimes it worked better than others. Neale, unfortunately, wasn't posing.

The Next Day: Snowpatch Route on Snowpatch Spire and the West Ridge of Pigeon Spire

The next day Neale didn't see any reason that we shouldn't launch directly out of my sleeping bag and onto Snowpatch Spire. I grudgingly agreed that he was right.

Our new friends Don and Garrett followed us up the route.

Neale ran the five or so pitches of slab around in the snow patch together in about half and hour.

Neale on the summit ridge, as seen from the summit.

This is going in the Stupid Summit Photos Hall of Fame for sure.

Rapping down the Kraus-McCarthy

The same day: the West Ridge of Pigeon Spire

Then we walked over to the West Ridge of Pigeon.

...in excellent style.

We got there as the masses were leaving.

You've gotta go down in order to go up.

I wasn't brave enough to stand up and walk.

I was straddling the ridge over huge exposure, but does Neale get that in the photo? No.....

Japanese tourist motif.

Summit.

Don and Garrett followed us up this, too.

The Day After Next: The Beckey-Chouinard on South-Howser Tower

The day after we walked over to East Creek and slept. In the end, we didn't need the extra time, but we didn't know that. Based on reputation, I thought that the Beckey was gonna be real, real hard. But its actually pretty moderate. Of course, Neale led every pitch over 5.8 - wanna make routes easy? Get a rope gun.

Looking down at our camp from the start of the difficulties on the Beckey.

"What's up there?"

"Oh god!"

"Well Seth, only one thing to do."

There were four parties on the route that day - we were number 3. Party number 4 got benighted real bad - they were good climbers, but as soon as I saw them belay I knew they were gonna sleep on the route. Party 1 was 2 people that are on a quest to climb all the 50 classics. They were nice people, but I doubt make their quest. Notably because the routes that they're most likely to die on are the ones that are least worth dying for, and I think they know that, too. There are four people climbing this beautiful 5.8 corner.

Mark on the crux, Janelle belaying and photographing, me and Neale napping in the sun (for about an hour).

Looking back down.

Chris and Ryan from Squamish. I was bonking, but Chris had just had one of those 5-hour energy things and told me about it 1,000 times. Ryan was freeing (rather that A0ing) the traverse. If he fell, he would land on me.

I have some summit photos, but I have food in my teeth, and I don't want to look stupid on my own blog. Well, I have one good photo. I'll post it later. But we did a team rappel - all six of us leap-frogging down with our ropes.

Me, on the walk back into East Creek, soaking in the views from the Pigeon-Howser Col.

The next morning, looking up at the route. You can see two people bailing (thunderstorms came in in the afternoon - Don and Garrett were on the summit when they came in and they both discussed the experience with an almost-religious reverence. Apparently the boulder they were hiding under got struck by lightning twice.

Me, packing up. The next day we climbed the McTech Arete (no photos - camera died, if I remember right) and then hiked out to climb in the Rockies. Post to follow.