Hit Timberline at about midnight, geared up and signed in. We were off before 12:15. The first few hours were pretty uneventful, we climbed and climbed and the temperature kept dropping and the wind picked up. Amazing stars and milky way, with the mountain silhoutte in front of us. We saw a few shooting stars as well. My nalgene mysteriously popped out of my backpack and disappeared into the darkness below - but other than that, all was smooth.
As we approached 9000' everything really iced up and got steep, so we put on the crampons. Everyone had shells and hats on by this point, but we were moving pretty quickly so we kept warm. Switchback city for the next hour until we hit the approach to hogsback ridge, which was a long traverse on a fairly aggressive slope. I know the angle and distance of the slope really tested Andy's injured knee. At this point the altitude was also starting to come into play, light head and weaker muscles were present.
We finally hit Hogsback with a nasty sulfer smell around, but still managed to clean off a ton of food, including at least half a can of pringles between Andy and myself. Dave wasn't eating much due to his typical "altitude fasting." It was windy and cold, so we didn't stay too long. We roped up with me in the front, Andy and then Dave.
We worked our way up the ridge, hugging the downwind slope for a little protection. Things got progressively steeper as we sidestepped our way up.
After about 40 minutes we hit the bergschrund. She was big and deep. I took about 10 minutes scouting it out as Andy came up closer to the lip to give me a solid belay. There was no obvious snowbridge without a big traverse, but a few spots you could jump over if you could trust the lips.
With a solid ice axe plant and a bit of adrenaline, I popped over. I set up a belay and Andy and Dave followed in the same spot. Coming back down, with the sun up, I realized just how wide that sucker was - I'm glad we crossed it in the dark the first time. We followed the ridge up another few hundred yards until it hit a vertical wall. It got quite steep here - maybe closing in on 50 degrees? I hit the base of the wall and set up an ice axe belay.
No more than two minutes later through the wind I faintly hear Andy yell "falling" and the rope snaps tight and but holds well. He quickly yells "OK" and makes his way up to my position.
At this point, there is no way to continue up, but there seems to be a traverse around a modestly exposed ledge onto another even steeper face leading to the chutes above. With Andy's belay I head around and find the going to be fairly straight forward. I set up anchor and bring Andy around and Dave follows. It is steep climbing to the base of the chute we chose, solid axe plants and front point kicking the whole way up.
The base of the chute had a nice ledge, which was crucial because it started out with a 10 foot step of mixed ice and frost (I think Andy may have got a pic of it?). At this point, the excitement of the climb wiped out any fatigue and I was feeling strong and energized. I worked my way up the step with some trial and error axe plants and a lot of front point kicking.
After about 20 feet there was a spot where I could set up a reasonable anchor and bring Andy and Dave up. It was still dark, but some light was starting to come through. There was a constant fall of ice chips in the wind, but no major chunks yet. The chute opened up a bit and we ran a few more belays up to the top. It remained quite steep, but manageable. Then, when I was about 15 feet from the top bench, I heard Andy relay a yell to "bear down!". Dave's crampons had blown - I'll let him tell that story, but I don't know how he got up the slope without them on. I guess it was one pull-up after another. Andy and I got the ledge and set up a double anchor as Dave worked his way up. This is where we enjoyed the beautiful "mountain shadow" and a few moments of peace. It was certainly nice to be on level ground for a bit. Andy dropped his phone and we laughed as we watched it fall for what seemed like minutes.
We ate and drank and then wandered along the summit ridge to the top. The wind was killer up there, so despite the crystal clear views we didn't stay long. My camera was frozen, but I think Andy managed to get a few quick pics. Less than a minute later we were on our way back down. We REALLY didn't want to go down the way we came up, so we followed the ridge a bit to try and find the old climbers route. Dave was right that we should of followed it farther, but after consulting the map, we decided we just have to suck it up and head down. Going down was worse than going up. The ice fall was picking up, the wind was picking up. It was now impossible to communicate with someone 15 feet away the wind was so bad. Dave had to make the descent with only a bottom belay, so if he fell at the top of any of the pitches he would have had a nasty fall. I think Dave and I both had the idea of just sacrificing a picket and rappelling down, but the snow quality wasn't that great and it would be tough to trust it. It took a long time to slowly make out way down. Down climbing the last step was particularly dicey, but we managed. As Andy was belaying Dave down that last piece a large ice chunk exploded off his helmet and cut his forehead a bit. We had all been pelted with little chunks for the last 45 minutes. This was not a good place to stay. But as we were getting set to drop, we heard a ringing
in the shin deep ice chips below. It was Andy's phone, buried a foot deep.
That thing had amazingly survived the fall and been funneled right down the chute to our position. If it didn't ring right at that moment, we would have just gone on down. Crazy coincidence.
I dropped down the next pitch and set up anchor. As Andy was coming down a large ice chunk came flying my way and nailed my right leg. I was surprised at the force of the impact and got a nice bruise, but at the time, I was so focused that I didn't really spend much time thinking about it. Many more pitches, around the ledge and down to the top of the bergshrund. In daylight, seeing the whole deep blue darkness of the thing, I was even more scared to cross now than going up. With an awkward ice axe plant and a long dangling bridge step down we were able to get a foot across and then lower ourselves completely. You could now see that we were trusting an ice cornice with our full weight.
Once we were all passed, we were pretty much in the clear. We worked our way to the bottom of the ridge and sat down to rest and unrope. My arms were beat and even tying up the rope seemed like a big task. On our way down we spoke to someone going up who said that we just took some unnamed "alternate chute" to the top, between the Pearly Gates and the Old Climber route, but who knows if they were right?
It was a long, pounding descent. The miles just dragged by. Andy attempted a few glissades, but there was not much doing with the ice conditions. We made it back to the car around 2:00? We all felt pretty beat up, but definitely feeling good about the adventure. I was expecting a pretty easy trip, but was pleasantly surprised by the challenge we met. Beautiful mountain. I'll definitely be back.
Long drives home for all. Luckily I had Rebekah with me to drive - I bet it was rough for Andy and Dave.
- J
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