Back At Er

The hellish semester finally ended.  I'd worked straight through every weekend since the end of September, and pulled off a good academic performance despite being so busy.  There are a lot of students out there who will complain six ways to Sunday about how hard their life is, but this semester was probably the hardest thing I've ever done.  There were three straight weeks where, between two of six courses, I logged 50 hours.  I've worked plenty of hard jobs with long hours and those were all a cake-walk compared to the 460/403 semester.

On Thursday, I wrote my last two exams, crushed a beer halfway through the last one, then went home and packed up.  Friday morning I got my braces off, and after picking up my gag-inducing retainer, hit the road for Calgary.  After it got dark, I puzzled over why everybody kept almost rear-ending me on the highway, before realizing that all my tail lights were out.  Oops!  After some searching, I managed to find the right bulb in Red Deer and enjoyed a slightly safer drive the rest of the way.

Saturday morning, Steve and I ripped into Canmore and met up with Justin.  We carpooled over to the Sulfur Mountain parking lot, and proceeded to take the wrong trail in search of Spray River Falls.  At about 10, we abandoned bushwacking and ran over to Cascade Falls to salvage the day.  There were three groups already on it, but we figured that they'd move through the harder bit by the time we got there.  Relaxed hiking and chatty soloing brought us to the start of the harder climbing before the first leader was even halfway up the first pitch.  Boy these guys were slow!  1.5 hours later, Steve was able to lead up.  Justin and I followed, wearing all our layers and mostly frozen.  Some ugly suffer-faces ensued at the next belay while our extremities thawed out.  Some more waiting, and then we headed up the second pitch at the same time as another group.  Seeing the last pitch still full of these slow-polks, we rapped the route and were back at the car before the group that we were climbing beside even finished the pitch.  I must be spoilt by climbing in Jasper and Nordegg, cause putting up with that sort of stupidity on a climb just ruins it.  Despite the long waits and cluster-facks, it was a real good day and my first multi-pitch ice climb.

Cascade was a good second choice, mainly because it's impossible to get lost on the approach.

On the lower "pitches"

A Chinook was in-bound, leaving these wild lenticulars across the front ranges

On Sunday, Erich replaced Justin while Kendra joined us as well.  We originally headed for Borgeau Left, but Steve ended up getting sick so we bailed again (this seems like a trend) and Kendra took Erich and I up Louise Falls.  Well, we climbed the first two pitches before backing off the third.  The pillar was pretty thin and seemed to be mostly made of air.  1 60m rap to the ground, and a short walk brought us to drinks at the Chateau.  Back in Canmore, I got to my car, then headed over to Chateau Knight and made a surprise appearance.

Erich starts Louise Falls

Kendra starts the thin pillar

Kendra turned around from this point, the ice seemed pretty sketchy

Based out of Pete's place, I skied the next three days.  Monday was pretty brutal, with my lackluster fitness and horrid skiing technique (first turns of the year).  Tuesday was a bit better at Tryst Lake, but things really came together on Wednesday.  Armed with a full day and a "giver" avy forecast, we did the Black Prince Traverse.

Dug a pit, found one of the most stable snowpacks I've ever seen at this time of year

Approaching the Purple Col, with a pretty good sized cornice in it

Found an old skintrack in there, looks like we weren't the first to get this idea

It was pretty facking cold on the other side

Bill comes up towards the bowl between Hero and Purple Nobs

On the ridge to Hero Nob, taking a short snack break behind some trees

The last turns down Hero Nob were heavenly.  I finally felt planted on the boards, and even felt the technique working well.  We rolled back to Peter's place, had a quick dinner, and then I drove back home.  It was finally time to spend some time with the family.  Although it would have been nice to get a few more skiing days in, it feels real nice to spend some quality time with the family.  Time to pack for California though!

A Kick-Ass Kickoff

This past weekend, I sneaked away from my senior design group to lead on the UAOC's Jasper Kickoff.  Driving down with my sister and an exchange student, I passed the time by blaring some some classic tunes I hadn't listened to for a while.... Jaya the Cat.  Don't think they enjoyed it too much, but I couldn't hear them over the sound of El Camino so it's all good.

Rolled into the Marmot Meadows group camp and helped get the fire started.  Finally met Mr. Barry, also known as the Nightime President and head of the Geriatric Crew.  Dude has been coming on trips for over ten years... an inspiration haha.  The party got going, and I announced my trip for the next day, Mt. Wilcox.  Too soon though, it was only the exec up and everyone else had gone to bed.  What the heck?  Anyway, we partied a little more and then went to bed ourselves.

Got the troops rallied the next morning and drove down to the Icefields.  I coordinated with a hiking group, so we had a group of 21 people with Robert Z, Claire and myself leading.  Hit the pass and had lunch, then Claire and I split a scrambling group off and headed for the peak.  We slogged up the scree, then hit the more difficult section of the ridge.  Here, a guy from Singapore was climbing pretty darn sketchily so we decided to turn him back.  I volunteered to hang back (even though I didn't want to), but Claire was a champ and stuck back instead.  I still owe her beer.  Anyway, I took the rest up to the peak in great spirits and an awesome break in the weather.

Chilin at Wilcox Pass

Cornelius hanging out above the Parkway

We attacked Wilcox using siege tactics

Sidewalk in the Sky

Wilcox is pretty special to me, mostly because of how exposed and alpine it feels, even though it's real easy.

"It's just like the Alps", easy but exciting terrain

Melanie's first summit!

The crew on top

Nigel Peak, could be fun on skis

There's a ski line

Wooley and Diadem

On top, Barry finally got the better of me.  He kept gushing about this "easy descent route" which involved heading north along the ridge and then dropping off the scree to the pass.  He ended up convincing a few of the participants.  He said he'd done it before.  Long story short, he was horribly wrong, and after taking a few people on some very serious terrain, was forced to come back the way I went down, two hours late.  I was pretty pissed that he pulled that stunt, but at least everyone came back safe and sound.  Another lesson learned, it'll be a cold day in hell before I trust someone with my group again.

Walking back to the cars

Anyway, we got back to camp, made dinner, and then the party really got going.  I was on fire and definitely wrote a chapter in "The Legend of Craig Hartmetz" as Pete would say.  Woke up early the next morning, recovered a bit, then headed to the Miette Hotsprings for a dip before driving back home.  A good weekend, and a party that will likely last at least a few years as my rowdiest performance.

Our campsite at Marmot Meadows

Being a Wimp

Well, this could be seen as a failure of a weekend.  Early on, a Erich and I got some grand plans going for exploring some remote areas near McBride, mostly along the Jasper NP north boundary.  The weather forecast slowly crapped on those plans, and since we were just a pair, I wasn't stoked on doing extensive glacier travel.  So we bailed to Nordegg.

Pulling in on Friday afternoon, the weather looked pretty splitter.  Along the parkway, however, we could see lightning flashing and the storm looked pretty socked in.  We awoke the next morning to rainy/windy weather, slept in, and then did the unexpected; we sat in camp.  Well, we mapped out the camping area for future reference, napped, then made dinner and set the alarms for the next day hoping for a passable day for Elliot NE Ridge.

I got up at 6 and saw nothing but dark cloud up above.  We slept in again, but this time got our act together and walked into Hidden Quartzite.  It's a great crag with lots of room to explore.  I'm excited to try and get back out there!

Camping near Wildhorse Creek

Once in a blue moon, I have a lazy weekend of camping.

Prepared for a day of camp mapping, with a bag 'o beers.

The "trail" to Hidden Quartzite

The trail is flagged by tying tiny bits of tape onto the mankiest twigs in existence.  That's why half the flagging is now gone, even though it was done last fall.  Seriously, it's like they were trying to keep the trail non-existent.

Erich forgot his water bottle so we used an old trick learned from many an outdoors club member.

At the top of the cliff with Triangle Peak and Mt. Murchison behind.  There was a lot of snow up high, another reason why we didn't go alpine.

Erich starting his figure-4 training early.

He is a very capable and dependable belayer.

"Chainsaws and Battery Acid", and easy 8

We climbed a 7, 8+, TR'ed the 8R (seriously runout, would be properly scary), and did Chainsaws as well.  A good short day, we got back to the car at 5:30.  BUT we had no car keys so back up the trail we went again, enjoying it's high quality bushwacking and log-hopping.  Found the keys at the crag, then went back to the car and made dinner back at camp.  Of all places to lose the keys...

On Monday, we packed up and drove out to The Dark Side, where we quickly onsighted "Wet Slut" and "RJ" (both 10b) before hurrying back home.  They're both nice climbs, and I'd really like to work at some more stuff on The Dark Side.  There's loads of room there and an 11a as well that I'd like to try my hand at, but  I was quickly realizing that I had a lot of stuff to take care of before school starts...

David Thompson Country, home sweet home.

Making Mistakes

Following all these darned courses I've been taking, I finally wanted to lead an alpine climb with the ACC.  I got Mt. Edith Cavell up on the schedule, but a rather humorous piece of information reached me about a week prior.  The Ghost Glacier (large serac perched precariously on the North Face) had calved, slid down the face, taken air, hit the small lake below, and blown the moraine and parking lot to smithereens.  Parks Visitor Safety Specialists termed it a "tsunami".  Well, as I said in an email, my group can count itself among a small number of climbers who have had to change plans due to a tsunami!

I searched for a backup plan.  Mt. Colin was an option, mostly being scrambling with a couple pitches of 5.6 thrown in.  But, it is a long way from the road, and doesn't exactly have groomed access.  Mt. Geraldine has a good exit trail, is in Selected Alpine Climbs, and based on the description in that book, was rather similar in character to Cavell.  It apparently was just "one pitch of 5.5).  I've hiked the Geraldine Lakes trail with the family on at least one occasion, so I knew where to go and how to get out.  I felt that a good choice as an alternate plan, so that's what we did.

From the cars, we hiked along the fire road and then bushwacked directly to the base of the ridge in about two hours.  Here, at the start of the rock, is where I felt the epic beginning.  The terrain here was steep but easy.  It was a classic leader's dilema.  Could I trust everyone to climb unroped?  Would that be deemed a safe and prudent choice?  I pitched out two ~45m pitches of fourth class before shortroping one of the two participants to the top of the first buttress.  Flat walking brought us to the base of steeper and what appeared to be more sustained climbing.

This long set of steps was predominantly 4th class with the odd 5th class move.  I put on my rock shoes for two of the pitches, mostly because I wanted to move fast and not place pro.  Shoes were not necessary.  Most pitches were climbed on two or three pieces and were in the 40-50m range.  Those pieces of pro were either to protect traverses, or just for the sake of having something in the pitch.  Eventually, the ridge eased off, but remained exposed.  I again shortroped through this.  We then came to a third step which appeared to be rather steep and difficult.

Traversing left, we worked through very loose talus to two pitches of rambly terrain followed by a descending traverse.  Shortroping around left and up again, we finally hit the descent gully just below the summit.

Here, there was a general atmosphere of retreat.  I am guessing that I did a good job of manifesting my concern with our progress through body language.  Nobody was surprised when I broke the news that we weren't going the last little bit to the top.  We were awful close, but with the way I had been forced to belay and rope up the participants, I would expect at least two hours to the top and back from where we were.

I shortroped a significant part of the descent.  It went from snow to good steps down low angle rock, to downclimbing a gorge, and then 3rd to 4th class downclimbing to reach nontechnical terrain.  It was a long haul, and I was rather concerned the entire time.  It was by no means a straightforward trudge down.

We reached the car at 9:39 PM.  We had left at 5:20 that morning.  It was a ridiculous day.  My verdict is that the guidebook is actually rather misleading.  I would actually argue that we never encountered rock harder than 5.3/4, but we encountered a rather large quantity of 4th class terrain.  More than that, though, I need to figure out how to handle groups in that sort of terrain.

Both my participants thanked me on numerous occasions for making them feel exceptionally safe.  They both said that it was a great day.  This means to me I did 2/3 of my job; they had fun and felt safe, but we didn't hit the objective.   I need to apprentice under another club-trip leader and see how they handle these types of situations.  With just a friend, I'm sure that we could easily solo the whole route in about 10-12 hours.  I made some mistakes on this one, but thankfully, they didn't have bad consequences.  I would rather not have another 16 hour epic on a club trip in the future, and I want to make sure that I keep improving.  I just need someone to show me the way...

Erich and Chad approach the base of the ridge in morning alpenglow.

The views in Jasper are just something else!

Erich partway up the ridge

Erich looking like a mountain badass

Chad at our high point.  The summit is the peak in the left of the photo.

Finally below the difficulties of the descent gully, I relaxed enough to take a photo.

How to Stiffen a MEC Alpinelite 30

Many of the smaller lightweight packs on the market these days don't have framesheets.  If you buy a pack with a framesheet, the lightest you can go is around 1 kg, whereas "soft" packs generally can be around 500-700 grams.  When you're shedding weight that's big enough to make you favor the soft pack.  Until you cram it full of climbing gear and realize that it carries like a piece of sh!t.

Common packs like this are the MEC Alpinelight 30, Arc'teryx Cierzo and the Deuter Freerider.  They use foam rather than a stiff plastic/metal sheet to "stiffen" the backpanel of the pack.  This works fine when you just have a sweater and water bottle in your pack.  Fill it with a trad rack, hammer, pins, helmet, rope, emergency gear, etc, it suddenly carries like a piece of crap, your hammer pokes you directly in the spine with every step, and you spend all day cursing your weight-saving efforts.

Despair no longer!  For about 5 bucks, you can easily rig up 4 packs to have nice, firm "framesheets" which weigh no more than a few grams.

What you'll need:

1. Small Sheet of Hollow Polypropylene Sheet.  Commonly found in hardware stores in 2 x 4 foot sheets for around 5 bucks.  It might be labeled "Tenulite" or similar.  It should have a rectangular grid when you look at the inside.  This is enough to do about 4 packs.
2. Small Saw
3. The foam back panel from your pack.

How to rig it:

I did this to my MEC Alpinelite 30 (Long Size).  It has a pocket in which the foam is slid.  This is a common feature, as manufacturers advertise this pad as a nice seat for taking a break on.  It really never works that way, because as soon as you take the pad out, your gear smushes into the empty space and replacing it is impossible.  But I digress...

This might be doable on a pack lacking the pocket for the foam.   If your pack has a hydration sleeve, the Tenulite could be slid in there, but I'm guessing that it would be sloppy and not as rigid as my setup.  You could also sew a sleeve for the tenulite, but that requires more effort.

1. Take out the foam back panel, and using a Sharpie, trace its outline onto the Tenulite.
2. Cut the tenulite slightly smaller than the foam pad.  The extra space that this Tenulite consumes will make the fit tough, so going a bit smaller is a good idea.
3. Put the Tenulite into the pocket first, followed by the foam pad.  Put the foam towards the wearer of the pack so that it provides some comfort.
4. Close the pocket, load up the pack and test the fit.  I almost guarantee that you won't go back.

The Tenulite is the red, hollow plastic sheet.  The stock foamie is the grey thing below.  The pack is fully loaded with gear for an alpine rock climb, and carries like a dream.

For 5 bucks I got this whole sheet.  The missing portion is what my Alpinelite consumed.  Could do 3 more packs easily.

With my experience, this stiffened my pack to the point that it carries better than my Alpinelite 45!  It's real darn stiff, transfers load super well, and weights essentially the same as the stock pack.  It's still comfy because of the foam.

Bonus:  Tenulite is actually used in many lightweight leg splints.  Manufacturers essentially take the plain board, glue some velcro on, and call it a splint.  So if your buddy takes a nasty slip and breaks his tib/fib, whip this back panel out and with a few prussiks/triangle bandages/rope/sling/whatever, you have a pretty stable leg splint.  Huh!

Uto Peak, Back 'o the Lake, and Disk Golf

After we got off the TNF course, Rebecca and I decided to do a bit of climbing in Rogers Pass.  After driving our carpool mates back to Golden, we hung around until her boyfriend, Tobias (German much?), showed up.  Then, after some healthy discussion, we hatched our plan.  Sunday, Rebecca and I would go for a fun ramble up Uto Peak and stash some gear at the bivy site.  Then, I'd have to go back and start driving home.  Tobias, sick as he was, would rest for the day in Rogers before hiking up with the rest of the bivy gear and the two of them would do Sir Donald on Monday.  It was a bit disappointing to miss out on Sir Donald, but it just gives me an excuse to go back and tag it later.

The weather was quite clear as we camped and organized gear at the Sir Donald campground.  We woke up at 4 am Alberta time (we live in the future) and got moving by 4:45 down the trail.  We hit the bivy in 3 hours, the col in 3-1/2, and we were on top in 6h15m.  That's pretty much exactly what the guidebook says time-wise.  I was hoping to do it in 5 hours, but we were both sucking wind hard on the way to the bivy.  Going soft for a week at the GMC with slow pace, good food, and short approaches meant that our bodies were both shocked by the change to normal pace and hot weather.

We pitched out two sections, and simulclimbed the rest.  We simulclimbed mostly because we had the rope on anyway, it was really roped soloing since we rarely placed any gear.  The terrain is mostly rather easy with a couple steps that make you pay attention for a second.

The view from the lower bivy

Morning beta pic of our descent route.  We descended to the low point, then took the snow and scree down.

Rebecca at the Uto/Sir Donald col, Uto ahead.

This beautiful view followed us all day

The NE Ridge of Sir Donald

Rebecca scrambling up

One of the steps that we pitched out

Sir Donald from the summit of Uto

Looking North

Rebecca with Sir Donald behind

Swiss Peaks

Mt. Booney?

Goodsirs

Setting up the camera mount.

On the snow flats en route back to the bivy

Sir Donald from the lower bivy

Another beautiful vista from the low bivy

From the top, we traversed over to the N ridge and went down.  We rappelled twice off pre-existing anchors and downclimbed the third rappel.  The whole thing could be downclimbed by staying on the ridge at the first rappel anchor, but would involve significant exposure.  We hit a scree gully and moved down to the snow slopes which we carefully traversed and then glissaded without ice axes (we didn't haul ours).  In the blazing heat, Rebecca even lied down in the snow to try and cool off.  It took us 2 hours from the summit back to the lower bivy.  Again, this wasn't going at full blast.  I was feeling 100% now, but the weather was clear, the sun warm, and the company good.  Why rush?

Back at the bivy site, we downed some food and water before I headed off.  I hiked back down to the cars in about 2 hours, then drove over the Lake Louise.  I knew that a few buddies from the UAOC were cragging there for the day, so I made a couple phone calls and actually got through!  Turns out that they were still up at the cliff, so I grabbed my gear, guidebook and started hiking in.  Managed to climb a couple pitches before they headed off.  Not anything hard or intense, but it was a nice way to cap off the day.  That was followed by a drive down to Canmore and the Chateau Knight.

I hung out with the brothers Knight for the evening, and it was nice to catch up.  They're always good company, but are unfortunately not climbers in the summer, so we don't get together much.  The inside jokes all came out and it was a good time.  The next morning, after pancake breakfast, Pete and I biked up to the Nordic Center for one of the classic loc activies: Disk Golf.  We're so loc that we even passed a group of satchel-sporting pros.  After a few holes though, Pete needed to get back to town for work, and I wanted to see the family, so we biked back to town.

All in all, it was a pretty fun way to finish off my summer vacation.  I got to climb in two ranges in a day, hang out with good people, and just have plain 'ol fashioned fun!  Can't Complain.