After I last reported in here, several related things happened. First, Lauren and I successfully summated Pyramid Peak, made famous around these parts by the Iskibc/Kya TR from two springs ago. Pyramid is known to be one of the hardest of the Colorado 14ers, with very steep fourth class terrain, lots of exposure, and very rotten rock.
Pyramid was a great climb that challenged us both. It was great to climb with Lauren. We are both Wilderness Instructors/Guides, and we happen to work well together in the backcountry. We feed off each other in a very positive way, and we have very similar views on backcountry ethics. Overall the climb went smoothly. At one point, we got off route and climbed too closely to the north face, exposing ourselves to its vertical 2,000+ foot wall. The rock in this area was extremely rotten- every handhold was pulling out. Lauren, who was climbing next to me found her way safely to a ledge while I attempted to climb up. When the gravity of the situation sunk in, I immediately started moving upwards as quickly as I could. If I had been on a horizontal plane and not a vertical plane, it would have looked like I was crawling as fast as possible. Handholds pulled out and passed between by feet, footholds were knocked off and fell the length of the north face, but I quickly made it to the ledge Lauren was standing on. What a relief. Shortly there after, we made it to the summit. We quietly celebrated on the summit, knowing all along that we were only half way there so to speak. While on the summit, a mountain goat father and son showed up and enjoyed the view with us.
The East Face of Pyramid Peak-The remainder of the route as seen from the Northeast Ridge. Climbing onto the east face is like entering the throne room of God. It commands a very deep respect. http://photos-b.ak.facebook.com/phot...47773_2612.jpg
Looking across at the Maroon Bells. I’d like to climb the Bell Cord Couloir, which is the thin band of snow and ice going up between the two sometime next spring when the snow stabilizes. http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/phot...47795_6085.jpg
To our surprise, the downclimb of the east face was significantly easier than the climb up because of our vantage point from above. We were able to see ledge systems that were impossible to spot from below, allowing us a much easier way down than the way we had ascended. I suppose it is important to note that the descent from the northeasr ridge to the amphitheatre was time consuming and annoying. It wasn’t technical, but it consisted of very loose scree, talus, and dirt. We had just descended this last section into the amphitheatre when a thunderstorm moved it. The echoes of thunder ringing through Pyramid’s amphitheatre were some of the most impressive and powerful things I have ever heard. Pyramid was letting us know that we got off easy, and we were humbled to think of what might have been had we been on the east face when the storm moved in. I thanked Pyramid Peak for its graciousness and for allowing us to experience its beauty as we made our way down to the West Maroon Drainage.
A funny side note- Lauren had a ticket to the Rusted Root show in Boulder that evening and we feared she wouldn’t make it back it time. As soon as we down-climbed the last technical section we literally ran back to Crater Lake where we had camped, packed our tent and gear, and then ran back the several miles to Maroon Lake where we had parked. People out for day hikes and there to look at the Bells and Pyramid from the lake were very confused as we ran passed with full packs- a few asked if we were in an adventure race. Lauren made it back in time for the concert.
09-09-2007, 11:10 PM
Kevo
Back in February, I told my Dad that I’d like to go on a backpacking trip for his birthday. He is a former Outward Bound instructor and back in the 70s he was big into climbing and mountaineering. We used to go on all kinds of trips when I was growing up, but we haven’t done to many adventurous things together in the past several years- just a few inbounds ski days a year. I’m kind of following in his footsteps now as a wilderness instructor, so I thought a backpacking and climbing trip would be a great way to spend some time together. The original plans were to go to Alaska, but as it got closer to August it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to get enough time off to make a trip like that happen. We settled for a backpacking trip to the Maroon Bells Snowmass Wilderness. I decided that if we couldn’t be in Alaska, we might as well go to one of the more beautiful places in Colorado and climb a challenging route on a challenging peak that I had already turned back from once- the Northeast Ridge of Capitol Peak.
Capitol has long Captivated me as a climber. Like Pyramid, it has a reputation for being one of the hardest 14ers of the Colorado 14ers to climb. This mountain as long captivated me. It is strikingly beautiful, and it had a sort of magnetism that drew me in. Earlier in the summer, I attempted Capitol solo, but I had to turn back at a point called
Unlike last time when I tried to summit Capitol in one day from the trailhead, this time we set out in the evening and hiked to Capitol Lake to spend a night and a day of rest before climbing Capitol.
The night before we left for our summit attempt I looked across Capitol Lake towards Capitol Peak as the setting sun cast deep red light on the granite massive of Capitol. I knew the climb would be strenuous, especially for my Dad. I had turned back once earlier in the summer because of a lack of time, but I knew that I hadn’t reached the crux before I turned back. With this being said, in the back of my mind a remembered a note someone had left in the summit log on top of Pyramid, “Harder than Capitol in a snowstorm!”. I had already been up Pyramid and made if back safely. Capitol couldn’t be too bad, could it? As the last light retreated from Capitol Peak, I humbly asked Capitol permission for the climb we would be attempting and for safe passage.
We were planning on waking up at 3 for our summit day. For some reason, I slept through my watch alarm and woke up at about 5. I quickly woke up my Dad and soon we were climbing towards the saddle between Capitol and Mount Daly. My Dad was having some problems with altitude at first (he lives in Pennsylvania), but I gave him some ibuprofen and water and within an hour he was feeling much better. After some time, we made it to the saddle and across the steep gullies on the north side of Capitol. Unlike last time, there was no snow to navigate through. We were making reasonably good time, but we had gotten a late start. At about 9am we reached K2, where I had decided to turn back. It is at K2 that the hard climbing starts when there is no snow. The next part of the route was an exposed a somewhat rotten fourth class section around the side of K2 with a significant amount of exposure. My Dad looked at it and didn’t like what he saw.
In the weeks preceding our trip, my Dad and I had had extensive discussions about roping up for the fourth class sections of Capitol. While I believe that roping up on Capitol creates a false illusion of safety because of rotten rocks and bad anchors and that it would likely result in rock fall danger, my Dad was accustomed to roping up for most fourth class terrain from the mountaineering days of his past. When he saw the next part of the route, he didn’t feel comfortable with what it would take. I let him know that I was ok with him not continuing (although I would be supportive if he did decide to continue) and that I was going to continue the route. He decided that at this point in his life, he didn’t want to take the risks associated with rest of the route, and I continued on.
My Dad left me in the exact location where I had turned back in July. There was no one else on the mountain that day. I would truly be soloing the northeast ridge. I had heard that the roundtrip of K2-Capitol Summit-K2 could take in excess of 4 hours. At 9 in the morning, I knew that I needed to move quickly and be prepared to turn back if the weather didn’t look good. As I neared the Knife Edge, I once again asked Capitol for permission for permission to climb and safe passage. For me, doing this puts me in the right mindset to approach a climb and it forces me to examine my reasons for climbing.
The Knife Edge was very exposed, as I had expected. As far as technical difficulty, it wasn’t necessarily difficult as much as it was mentally taxing. The Knife Edge is appropriately named- it is a section of granite just a few inches wide with drop offs in excess of 1,000 feet on either side. As I crossed the section, I repeated a mantra that I had learned- “This is what it is all about, just stay focused.” I tested every handhold and foothold at least twice to make sure that I wouldn’t accidentally pull off a hold and fall to my death.
Before the climb I was under the impression that the climbing after the Knife Edge was easier and straight forward. This quickly proved to be incorrect as I continued on. Route finding and fourth class climbing persisted all the way to the summit, about 500 or so vertical feet above the Knife Edge. For me, the crux came about half way between the Knife Edge and the summit when I traversed a thin ledge system about 50 feet long with about 1,500 feet of exposure. The “ledge” that my feet were on was no more than 5 inches wide, and I had a thin finger holds the whole way. The ledge was covered in sand and dirt, and it was so thin that I couldn’t even begin to fit my entire boot on it. I have come to find that this section that I had climbed was pretty far off route and that it added about 400 more feet of fourth class terrain to my climb.
Sometime around 11:30 I reached the summit with a great feeling of thankfulness and relief. I was greeted by prayer flags, stuffed under a boulder with the summit register. Finding these helped to calm my nerves a bit and focus on the task at hand. I kissed the summit block and took a few minutes to snack on some nutty bars and sign the register. Cumulous clouds had been building in over the Bells and Pyramid and had been moving towards Capitol from the east- a strange weather pattern for this area of Colorado. I knew I needed to get down quickly I thanked Capitol for letting me make it as far as I had, and once again asked for safe passage for my descent.
Cumulus clouds building and moisture in the air- looking east from near the summit of Capitol towards the Maroon Bells and Pyramid Peak. The Pierre Lakes are down below. I feel lucky that the clouds didn't build into storms. Capitol Peak was gracious. http://photos-b.ak.facebook.com/phot...68733_8514.jpg
Just as on Pyramid, I found it easier to route find on the way down than on the way up. At one near vertical point during the downclimb, I got a feeling that I really needed to kick a rock that I was about to put my right foot on. I kicked it once- nothing. Twice- nothing. The rock sounded solid. A third time, and a large horn that I would have used on a handhold in two moves broke loose and fell for probably a thousand feet. This experience was humbling for me to say the least. I moved on, crossing the ledge system that I had found to be my crux and eventually made it back to the knife edge. I was actually relieved to be on the relatively stable rock of the knife edge. I made it across the knife edge, took a few photos and a video with my camera, and then I traversed around K2 to the nontechnical scree field on the other side.
Knife Edge video
My Dad was waiting for me a short ways down the scree field. Together, we continued our downclimb to Capitol Lake. We made it back and had a large dinner and watched once again as the setting sun cast deep red light onto Capitol Peak.
The storms I had feared never built up. In retrospect, I left Capitol with much more respect than I had when I set out to climb the mountain. Once again, my limits were tested. I suppose everyone climbs for different reasons. I climb to learn about myself and the mountains and to come to a better understanding of what is important to me. For me, this type of mountaineering helps me to reflect on my life in a way that nothing else I have found allows. The people in my life and the relationships I have with them and what they mean to me become clear instantly when I’m faced with decisions in which life and death are the only possible outcomes. I also find out who I am when I am climbing alone in the big mountains.
The trip with my Dad ended up being a great trip. We spent only four days in the backcountry, but it was a great time nonetheless. The stories from his climbing days don’t seem so distant as I grow older, and in a way I have come to better understand my Dad.
In a moment of clarity that last night at Capitol Lake I came to an important understanding. Most people in my life here in Colorado know me as a relatively happy-go-lucky person. To most, I probably seem happy and upbeat, always seeking out the next adventure. Some who knew me earlier in my youth might know me as a more cynical and sarcastic person. In my personal relationships, I live by a simple rule- be friendly and kind to most, but love only a special few. There aren’t too many people that really know me- really, really know who I am deep down. Those select few that I let in I love with my whole heart to the end of the earth, to the top of any mountain, and to the bottom of the ocean. In this select group, I am unconditionally loyal. Those that know me best might tell you that there is something about me- something that even I myself cannot fully distinguish. Something is missing from my life and I seek it out in every experience I live through. I look for it in every mountain that I climb, I seek it in every powder turn I make, and in every serine landscape I gaze across. I cannot find this thing I am missing in any religious dogma, or any philosophical set of beliefs, or any academic pursuit. I can feel the space of this missing piece has left in everything that I do, and I can feel it out there calling me towards it.
The last rays of light were leaving Capitol and it was time to go to sleep. In the morning we would hike 6 miles back to the trailhead and head to my roommate Weston’s house in Aspen. The last great adventure of the summer was over, and soon I was back in Boulder to start my senior year of college.
And now for me, I will climb on and seek out what I must- I get closer to it with each passing day. I’ll be seeing some of you out there…
09-10-2007, 12:02 AM
thd
Really great photos and stories here and in the first part!
Thanks for sharing.
09-10-2007, 09:49 AM
Ireallyliketoski2
What you're looking for is right behind you.
Great TR.
09-10-2007, 04:29 PM
Kevo
prime time bump
09-10-2007, 06:16 PM
Lexi-Bell
prime time approves, sweet tr.
I know what you mean about the missing piece in your life, where you can feel the emptiness it should occupy, its calling you toward it, except I know what mine is and it has a name: Copenhagen.
