The past year I've been living in the
climber's paradise known as Baltimore, MD. We have an endless supply of plastic
on which to pull, including a steep indoor lead cave which ( I find hilariously
ironic) is often overrun w/ stronger than me young folks all rocking Miguel's
t-shirts in the gym. My move from Joshua Tree back to the east coast has proven
difficult from a climbing perspective, but I've able to keep my mind on other
things partially because I've recovering from a torn MCL/ACL (and subsequent
knee surgery) earned after David W. took the whip on an R/X climb and decked
onto his human crashpad (me).
After 4 months of physical therapy I was cleared to start climbing in the gym, and I soon began dreaming of getting out to do a big trip somewhere out west. I hadn't been in the alpine since an ascent of the Sun Ribbon Arete (High Sierra) last summer and as my body healed I started missing the feeling of altitude stressing the lungs, alpenglow, the committment of starting up a big route despite the possibility of bad weather....basically all the things that lead me to consider time spent w/ good friends on alpine rock climbs as, if not the quentessential climbing experience, certainly the one that I value most.
I have always wanted to climb in the Wind River Range, and a quick call to Brad Stapperfenne sealed the deal as we'd been tentatively planning a trip there since we were in the Tetons back in 2009. I flew in to Rapid City just in time to catch a few beers w/ Trew and to hear his first-hand account of climbing in the needles and the tower. The morning after my flight, Brad and I made the 8 hour drive to Lander and got set to get up early and mission out to the Big Sandy Opening trailhead, a mere 40 miles down a dirt road in some of the prettiest country I've seen anywhere.
The drive out to Big Sandy was amazing and really contributed to a feeling that we were going to be climbing pretty far out in no man's land...at least until we hit the parking area and saw the 40 other cars proving that we weren't the only folks to think that the Winds on the fourth of July weekend were a great idea.
Our initial plan was to hike in to the cirque of the tower and climb the NE Face of Pingora (5.8, 1500ish feet, one of the 50 classics) as a warm up for some harder routes in the Deep Lake area of the Winds. About 7 miles (10,000ish feet of elevation in) I was quickly realizing that the combination of sea-level living and a year off after knee surgery wasn't doing me any favors. The hike was kicking my ass way more than it should've given how mild it is for most of the trek again. Needless to say we eventually made our way over Jackass pass and in to the Cirque where we were treated to amazing views
If you haven't laid eyes on the Cirque then I
suggest you make plans to go there soon , as it's a beautiful place to climb,
hike, fish, or just laze around. As I mentioned, our initial plan was to climb
Pingora and then head to deep lake as we didn't think there was much more in
the cirque that would pique our interest. As soon as I laid eyes on Warbonnet,
Warriors I and II, etc. I realized the folly of trying to make snap judgements
on such an amazing landscape.. There are enough peaks to keep everyone from the
casual peakbagger to the alpine hardman busy in that place for decades. ( On
that note, I want to get back out there to climb Black Elk, a sweet 5.11 but
I'm too weak handle a 5.11 wide crack crux pitch at altitude...any rope guns
who are interested should let me know and I'll gladly head back next season.)After 4 months of physical therapy I was cleared to start climbing in the gym, and I soon began dreaming of getting out to do a big trip somewhere out west. I hadn't been in the alpine since an ascent of the Sun Ribbon Arete (High Sierra) last summer and as my body healed I started missing the feeling of altitude stressing the lungs, alpenglow, the committment of starting up a big route despite the possibility of bad weather....basically all the things that lead me to consider time spent w/ good friends on alpine rock climbs as, if not the quentessential climbing experience, certainly the one that I value most.
I have always wanted to climb in the Wind River Range, and a quick call to Brad Stapperfenne sealed the deal as we'd been tentatively planning a trip there since we were in the Tetons back in 2009. I flew in to Rapid City just in time to catch a few beers w/ Trew and to hear his first-hand account of climbing in the needles and the tower. The morning after my flight, Brad and I made the 8 hour drive to Lander and got set to get up early and mission out to the Big Sandy Opening trailhead, a mere 40 miles down a dirt road in some of the prettiest country I've seen anywhere.
The drive out to Big Sandy was amazing and really contributed to a feeling that we were going to be climbing pretty far out in no man's land...at least until we hit the parking area and saw the 40 other cars proving that we weren't the only folks to think that the Winds on the fourth of July weekend were a great idea.
Our initial plan was to hike in to the cirque of the tower and climb the NE Face of Pingora (5.8, 1500ish feet, one of the 50 classics) as a warm up for some harder routes in the Deep Lake area of the Winds. About 7 miles (10,000ish feet of elevation in) I was quickly realizing that the combination of sea-level living and a year off after knee surgery wasn't doing me any favors. The hike was kicking my ass way more than it should've given how mild it is for most of the trek again. Needless to say we eventually made our way over Jackass pass and in to the Cirque where we were treated to amazing views
The days that followed our hike in were nothing short of spectacular...Our second day in the winds was spent fly fishing and waiting out horrible looking weather, since we had no desire to climb in the rain and hail (little did we know...) A special thanks to Grimbo for teaching Brad some basic casts that resulted in us catching 5 fish on our first day of attempting to do so. The alpine Gods ended up playing a little trick on us when the day, which started out ominous and terrible, ended up being the nicest of the week. Nonetheless we were able to get some much needed rest before heading out to climb the NE Face the following morning.
An alpine start always sounds a lot more enjoyable than it actually is, but I much prefer getting up and at it early to being on a long route in the afternoon when thunderstorms and bad weather are more likely to move in. The weather in the cirque is notoriously rainy and unpredictable, and the sense of commitment is intensified by the fact that most storms in the area come from the SW and are impossible to see from the route we were climbing until they are upon you.
We found the start to the route rather easily, and set off on pitch after pitch of super enjoyable slabby 5.8ish cracks that we tended to stretch out to the maximum extent that our 70m ropes would allow. The rock was somewhat reminiscent of the better stone in J-Tree as it was very course (primo friction) and, as I mentioned, the cracks tended to be more slabby than steep. The first pitch offered a nice wake-up to the follower who was forced (not by any fault of the leader) to down climb 20 feet of easy, but featureless, slab (think 5.8 stone mountain) just before arriving at the first belay. A fall here would be shitty, sending you feet first into a nasty ledge system, but it was an appropriate entrance exam of sorts as it prepped us for the footwork-intensive climbing that was to follow. We led the route in blocks, and were climbing super fast and enjoying perfect weather...until the end of the 6th pitch when I noticed the first of a series of super ominous clouds coming (surprise) from behind the route we were on.
(Now, I'm sure a lot of climbers would've thought, "Eh, no big deal just a few clouds on a bluebird day" but Brad and I have a terribly history of shit weather on most of the alpine climbs we've done in the past. That first dark cloud brought me back to the third pillar of Dana back in 2009, where I brought brad up the final 5.10 pitch fearing for my life as every piece of metal on my body buzzed with static electricity and the lanyards on our packs floated in midair as if possessed, owing to the highly-charged air on the front of the thunderstorm that was on its way to kicking our asses. )
The feeling of dread intensified as the first of the thunder began rolling in and light rain began to pelt us. We made the decision to continue climbing as long as possible as we knew we only had about 400' of technical climbing left and bailing would've been a pain in the ass. I set off on my last block with a rain jacket on and proceeded to climb the next two pitches in rain, hail, and thunder, with none of the carefree feelings I had experiencing earlier on the route. The climbing would've been super fun on these pitches as the rock got quite a bit steeper, but a slip on wet rock (caught myself of a hand jam, mangled the hand a bit) and the threat of lightning made it more difficult. We ultimately made it to the last of the technical pitches when, thanks be to God, the weather started to clear. Brad led the final pitch to the summit as the sun came back out, and we hit the top of the route with smiles on our faces...until we realized that we had climbed some stupid variation to the usual finish and had to rap back down to a ledge ( Cost= 1 stopper and a 48" dyneema sling) and scramble to get to the true summit.
That's the meat of the story. The side trip to deep lake never happened, and we decided to leave the alpine early and climb in the needles/spearfish canyon. All told it was a fantastic trip that got me all kinds of psyched for similar trips in the future.
