The past couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of activity: bouldering, sport climbing, trad climbing, ice climbing, and ski touring. Ah, the Front Range with its mild climate, sunny crags, Cabernet powder (?), and dripping ice… Oh yeah, sometimes it just all comes together for a brief fleeting momement of multi-sport bliss. But anyways, today it’s bitter cold (though sunny), and that Wyoming wind is rolling through town, rattling windows. I’m hunkered down in a cozy coffee shop, sipping an Americano, savoring a blackberry muffin, and studying up for first quarter exams which are quickly approaching. My thoughts drift to wind, spindrift, and plastic ice. The Park is calling. I haven’t been climbing enough ice… The relatively warm sunny weather was a nice dream of the coming spring, but looking outside I realize it’s early February and that we’re still in the midst of winter. [Read More]
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Julia, embodying post-fall joy. Note the trucker's hat and aviators. Just 'cause we're in the mountains doesn't mean we can't look good, right? …He’d ski Red Coon Glades after a long sunny stretch. Because, as wise ski bums say, “Anyone can be happy on a powder day…it takes a real skier to smile in the crud.” And I’ll tell you what; Red Coon after a long sunny stretch is the real crud. A couple weeks ago Julia and I got a less than early start toward the south-facing Red Coon Glades on Mt. Emmons (aka The Red Lady), which was sub-optimal, seeing as how she had to work at noon and all. But, we figured the Red Lady would be our best bang for the buck: climb straight out of the parking lot, and ski right back, sans approach slog. Plus, I figured the skiing would be mighty fine: last time I was there the snow was so deep I was poling hard to make it down 27-degree slopes, so I hoped that the sunny spell after the storm would firm up the powder and give us some play. Plus, the glades, like the January sun, are so [Read More] A couple of friends and I made it up to Cameron Pass on Tuesday and found great conditions. A couple weeks worth of mild weather allowed for the consolidation of the snowpack’s upper layers while the weak storm cycle that came through this past weekend dropped several inches of low density precipitation with little wind. Unfortunately the winds picked up Monday night and began their usual cycle of destruction. By Tuesday morning the face was a blank slate with few tracks from the weekend visible, (though soft sastrugi –like wind runnels were obvious on most exposed slopes). Another party of backcountry enthusiasts were skiing the slopes of South Diamond that slid back on January 10th and it looked like they had triggered a small slide near the summit ridge. Other small pockets of natural activity were visible on the center of the face as well. [Read More] I’ve begun to feel the first desperate stabs of this winter’s mortality. Routes that are only in climbable condition in the early season are, by now, gone until November. I’m looking forward to friends coming out here soon on their spring break weeks. I’ve started researching Western rivers and potential rock climbing destinations. Football is over, and pitchers and catchers report next week. The ice climbing season is still going strong, but it doesn’t have the “endless summer” vibe about it that it had when I first got out here. It’s time to pour a little gas on the fire, and there’s only one way to do that right: road trip. These scenes never seem to get old. This is the green-tinged pitch that gives "Smooth Emerald Milkshake" its name — Cody, WY Jason and I left Bozeman on Monday afternoon. Destination: Cody. Objective: Smooth Emerald Milkshake and maybe a stopover in the Beartooths on the way home. Jason had been eyeing the route for a few seasons, but its reputation as being hard to find and hard to reach had steered him toward other climbs in the area. I assured him the approach was no big deal [Read More] Monica, enjoying a beautiful, introspective tour. It’s mating season in the High Country: all around I see the blossoming of new, survive-the-cold-of-winter romances, as well as (in my case) the bidding adieu to love past and passed. The stakes are high and our hearts, like a sketchy Colorado snowpack, are a veritable battleground of subtle yet dynamic, and powerful yet mysterious energies. Last week I went for a tour with my friend Monica, who was in town to take her Level I avalanche course. As usual, the chug-a-chug rhythm and aerobic endorphins of steep skinning induced a good, philosophical heart-to-heart chat: my recently lost relationship, her recently budding-but-complicated relationship, relationships past and what we learned, relationships yet to come and what we hope. We climbed fast and between rapid breaths we chopped out the big questions of our day: “Why…doesn’t…he…just…tell me…” and “Maybe…she…needs…more…stability…” Over water and snacks, we had more continuous conversation: “I’m just not sure where this leaves me…” and “What are you looking for?” What, indeed? Second Bowl: The open face with the dispersed trees slid about 200 vertical feet below us as we stood on top. As Monica and I topped out on [Read More] I had a few days off from work last weekend and my buddy, Will, drove in from the Bay Area to spend some time in Bozeman. Will moved out west after law school and has enjoyed the Berkeley gym climbing scene, but a pending trip to Mt. Hood had him ready for some real action in the mountains. We spent a couple of his days here climbing in Hyalite and a couple more hiking laps at the “M” for a pretty decent training shakedown. Will, puttin' out the vibe in Hyalite. I was relieved to find Will all smiles after our second climbing day. This wasn’t his first ice climbing experience (that came on a trip we took to Mt. Baker with my dad and brother two summers ago), but it’s impossible to tell how accurately one will remember things like that. Kelly Cordes, American Alpine Journal senior editor and general mountain badass, calls it Type II Fun: “fun only in retrospect, hateful while it’s happening. Things like working out ‘till you puke and usually ice and alpine climbing.” In other words, ice climbing belongs in the same category as tequila shots and Brontë novels: you’re proud to [Read More] |
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