Bell Ringin'

The very photogenic Maroon Bells

Keith and I decided to ditch work on Friday, so we found our way over to the Aspen area on Thursday night. Our original plan was to climb North Maroon Peak and Maroon Peak (collectively known as the Maroon Bells) on Friday, and climb Pyramid Peak on Saturday.

We began hiking, with skis on our backs, at about 4:30 am. By 7:30, we had dropped off our overnight gear at a camp spot and were putting our crampons on 3500 feet below the summit. The weather was absolutely beautiful, making the majority of the climb sunny and hot. After weaving our way through some cliff bands lower down, we entered the Bell Cord Couloir at 12,000 feet. This couloir is the extremely aesthetic line that bisects the two peaks.


Half way up the Bell Cord Couloir

We climbed the steady 45 degree couloir for 1800 vertical feet to the saddle, where we could finally see over the other side and switch from climbing in ski boots to trail shoes.


Keith topping out on the Bell Cord, Pyramid Peak in the Background

The physical demands required to reach this point were greater than anticipated. We were both feeling tired and drank the last of our water at this point. Having dealt with lack of water and dehydration before, I calculated that I could still complete the day's plan of summiting both Maroon Bells. After a short break, we started towards North Maroon's summit.


Scrambling up North Maroon Peak

The ridge linking the two peaks offered great contrast to the snow couloir we had spent the last few hours in. The sedimentary rock was awful (crumbly) by Colorado standards, but great by Cascade volcano standards. Although only a short distance away, it took about an hour and a half for me to climb my way over to the summit and back in the tricky terrain. The ridge traverse is rated Class 4 in the guide book, but I'd give it 5.4 in a few sections.


Maroon Peak from North Maroon Summit

After making it back to the saddle and top of the Bell Cord Couloir, our level of exhaustion was noticeably higher and we weren't becoming any less dehydrated. The Bell Cord was littered with rocks, so our original plan of skiing down it was put into question. On the way up, we could see the 'Y' Couloirs and they didn't seem to have nearly as much rockfall strewn about them. As tired as we were, it was a difficult decision to make, but we decided to put our skis on our back for the final summit push up to Maroon Peak's summit. Upon reaching the summit, we could only think of water, so we didn't spend too much time there and began hiking down the south ridge, aiming for the top of the 'Y' Couloir's northern branch.


North Maroon Peak, from Maroon Peak Summit

As we approached the 'Y', we found a trickle of a stream of melting snow. We put Keith's water bottle under it for a few minutes and had our first water in quite some time. I made sure not to overdo it since shocking a dehydrated system is generally not a good idea. It was about 4:00 in the afternoon now, and we were anxious to get down.

We took another short break at the top of the 'Y' to put our ski boots back on and prepare to ski.


Looking down the 'Y' Couloir

Keith dropped in first as my knee brace had broken on the way up the Bell Cord couloir and I was a bit timid skiing without it. The fact that it was now so late in the day meant the snow was very sun softened, but it never froze overnight, so I doubt our timing had that great of an affect on the conditions.


Keith dropping into the 'Y'

Although soft, the snow was still quite forgiving and very enjoyable to ski! After descending through the narrowest part of the couloir, we encountered several water runnels, some posing fairly substantial obstacles. Keith found his way into a rather large one of these and I managed to get a comical shot of his attempt to extract himself.


Keith stuck in a giant water runnel

Carefully choosing our line the rest of the way down to avoid future encounters with these man-eating runnels, we soaked in the beauty of the line we were skiing.


Keith skiing the beautiful 'Y' Couloir

Lower down, we skied through the garbage chute which had multiple waterfalls cascading over the surrounding cliffs, compounding the beauty of our location.


Exiting the Garbage Chute

After about 13 hours, we finally made it back to our camp. Although I've had many outings in the mountains lately, this is the first one for a while where I really felt like I accomplished something. It felt great to push myself both mentally and physically in one of the most beautiful landscapes in Colorado.


The Route, as completed

Needing more time to recover, we hiked out the next day and left Pyramid Peak for another time.

Tri the Creek

This past weekend was pretty busy. Josh and I had 4 parties to attend (2 birthdays, 1 solstice celebration, and 1 work-sponsored pre-Rockies game shindig). Between parties, Josh and I squeezed in a 57 mile bike ride on Sunday. But my biggest event of the weekend was a triathlon Saturday morning.

My summer goal is to complete a half-iron distance triathlon in August. As my previous tri experience is limited to the Beaver Freezer, this is a big step-up in distance and seriousness. To prepare, I have been doing quite a bit of biking, some running, and swimming with the masters group at CU. Most significantly, I bought a wetsuit and have been practicing the open water swim (the Beaver Freezer was in a pool). I am finally getting more comfortable in the open water and this weekend was my first opportunity to put my new skills to the test in my first "real" triathlon.

In exchange for me picking him up at the airport a week ago, I convinced Josh to drive me to my triathlon on Saturday morning. I essentially tricked him into getting up at 5:30 (night after party #1) to drive me to Denver and be my race day photographer. "Tri the Creek" was held at Cherry Creek State Park in Southeast Denver with the swim in Cherry Creek Reservoir. This "sprint" distance triathlon consisted of an 800 meter swim, 14 mile bike, and 5K run. I survived and felt great during the whole race, which was all I was really hoping for. It was great practice for the half-ironman, especially swimming with 400+ other people (the swim was in waves of about 75 athletes, a new wave starting every minute). It was also good to practice transitions and biking/running in my swim clothes.

I was hoping to finish in under 1 hour 20 minutes, but just missed this finishing in 1:21:16. As an excuse, I think (and most the other competitors agreed) that the swim was longer than 800 meters, it took about 5 minutes longer than I expected. However, most surprising is that I finished 2nd for women overall (out of 160) and first in my age group. I rationalize this as a lack of competition and am trying not to let it go to my head. I know at my next race (an olympic distance in July) in Boulder that I will be humbled by all the insanely athletic Boulderites.

Josh more than exceeded expectations with his photographic skills. His swim pictures are excellent, but he claims that I biked and ran too fast for good pictures of these portions.


Start of the first swim wave, men under 30 years. Shows the pure chaos of such events, I particularly like the guy getting kicked in the middle of the photo.



Getting ready.



Looking serious, maybe too serious.


After the start of the last wave. If you zoom in, you can see people have already made it around the second buoy (orange triangle marking the course). I'm out there somewhere.


Now this is the amazing part. Josh somehow picked me out as the swim returned to shore, despite the fact that I was wearing the same race-provided swim cap as about 75 other people.


Starting to unzip the wetsuit on the way to the transition area.


Heading out on the bike.


Almost at the finish. (I tried to smile on purpose, trying to avoid the usual pained look I have in running pictures.)

Mt. Rainier: 0 for 2

I spent much of last week undertaking a spectacular failed attempt at reaching the summit of Mt. Rainier. After meeting up with Jake in P-town late Sunday night, we drove up to the White River Campground near the base of Mt. Rainier on its northeast side. Our goal for the day was to hike to Camp Scherman at about 9500 feet, a 5000 foot elevation gain from the trailhead, with heavy packs. At around 9000 feet, the weather went from sunny and breezy to blowing snow in the midst of a vicious, sustained wind with ridiculous gusts. At this point we made a decision to set up camp rather than risk wandering farther into the storm. We spent the rest of the day chillin' in the tent and playing cards (we later found out that this sudden-onset storm ultimately killed a guy on the south side of the mountain and forced his two partners to require evacuation).

We slept in the next day as the storm was still raging outside. Upon trying to exit the tent I realized it was quite buried, making an escape without filling the tent with snow somewhat challenging. Kudos to Mountain Hardware for making a tent that can turn into a snowcave without deforming.


The tent after the storm

By noon we decided to brave the waning storm and work our way to Camp Schurman. A hike that should have taken about 2 hours took closer to 4 as we battled 2 feet of fresh snow, moderate winds, and challenging visibility. At high camp, we found the shelter staffed with 2 climbing rangers, a guided party of about 6 people, and a party of 2 Koreans who were on their way home from climbing Mt. Foraker in Alaska. The Koreans passed us about the time the storm hit the day before and managed to make it all the way.


The ranger's cabin

Not wanting the tent to be buried again, we quickly went to work building a protective wall. An hour later, we had the most luxurious camp for miles until the following day when two more guided parties showed up.


The wall at high camp

We knew the weather wasn't supposed to be very good the following day either, so we slept in with hopes that our last possible summit day (Thursday) would be nicer. We spent Wednesday sleeping, eating, and playing in crevasses. We practiced crevasse rescue techniques and had a lot of fun in the process.


Jake playing in a crevasse

The clouds above and below us continually came and went, providing brief glimpses of the mountain and surrounding terrain. The massive size of the mountain, combined with the fact that we were on the largest glacier in the continental US, made it seem like we were on a different planet. That night, we overheard the guided parties' plans to start hiking at about 1 am for the summit. We adjusted our schedule to give them a head start in hopes that they would provide a nice boot track until the time we would catch and pass them.

We started hiking at 3 am on Thursday under a perfectly clear sky. The route was pretty straight forward until we got to the top of the corridor, a relatively uncrevassed strip of snow and ice that defines the junction of the Emmons and Winthrop glaciers. At this point, we passed the first guided rope team. We continued to follow the other rope teams still above us as they traversed left under and around a heavily crevassed zone of the Emmons glacier. One by one, the remaining guided rope teams turned around. Client fatigue was my guess at their reasoning for turning around, because the weather was nearly perfect except for a mild wind.


Alpinglow on summit day

At about 12,500 feet we passed the last party, which was resting before they headed down. At this point, we decided to stop our leftward traverse and head up. Three-hundred feet higher up, we began to second guess our route finding decision. We entered a maze of crevasses and seracs that originally appeared to have a weakness, permitting access to the smooth surface above the icefall.


Off route in the land of the seracs

After attempting several dead-end paths, we decided to backtrack to 12,500 feet and traverse further left in attempt to go around the obstacle. This proved to be something we should have tried a long time ago, as the difficulties eased greatly. After getting to a point where we could see that we were around the problems we had previously encountered, we again headed up. At 8:00 am, we were at about 12,800 feet, where it got a bit windier. There was a wand marking a crevasse crossing, which was a good sign that we were now on a reasonable route. With 1600 vertical feet left and the crevasse and route finding difficulties behind us, we turned around.


Looking down the Emmons glacier

We were back to the tent by 10:00, and there still wasn't a cloud in the sky. It seemed a shame that we put in all the effort over the previous days to haul all our gear to high camp and wait for decent weather just to turn around 1600 vertical feet from the summit under near ideal conditions. Even so, we had a great time, learned a lot, and got Jake to the highest elevation he's yet to achieve. Provided it doesn't pull a "St. Helens", the mountain should be there for future attempts.

Anna

I have a niece!

Anna Karen Kimerling
6 pounds 9 ounces
19 1/2 inches
6/2/08 7:40pm

Here are some pictures my mom emailed me last night:

Love you Anna! Can't wait to see you in a month.

Finishing the Sawatch Range

There are 15 14,000-foot peaks in the Sawatch Range of Colorado. This weekend, with Ryan's company, I completed the final two. On Saturday we hiked Mt. Huron, which provided spectacular views of much of the Sawatch Range and beyond. I managed a ski descent from the summit, while Ryan worked on his glissading technique.


Upper part of the ski descent


Lower section of the ski descent


The Three Apostles and Ice Mountain from the summit of Mt. Huron

Moving slightly further south on Sunday, we hiked Mt. Antero. There was much less snow here, which was good because we were able to drive to 11,000 feet on the 4-wheel drive road, but bad because a ski descent from the summit was impossible (no continuous snow). I was able to ski from about 13,000 feet, though, saving myself a lot of walking.


Ryan heading up the final climb to the top of Antero


Ski Descent - I came down the chute on the right, which goes up quite a bit higher than shown in the photo.


Creek Crossing at 10,800 feet

Next weekend I'm headed back to the Northwest, where I plan to meet up with Jake and climb Mt. Rainier. I should be well trained with my five 14er ascents over the previous two weekends.

A Trio of 14ers

Ashley, Ryan (coworker) and I left after work on Friday with the ambitious plan of hiking three 14,000 foot peaks, all in close proximity. On Friday night, we backpacked in to the northern end of Missouri Basin. It was here that we would camp and launch or campaign to summit Missouri Mountain, Mt. Belford, and Mt. Oxford over the next two days.


Our campsite at about 11,000 feet

Saturday morning we woke up leisurely, melted snow to make water, and set off up the basin to try our luck on Missouri Mountain.


Ashley skinning up Missouri Basin

The further we went, the windier and snowier it became. Around half way up, Ashley decided to turn around due to weather and terrain concerns while Ryan and I decided to persevere. About an hour and a half later, and after negotiating some steeper sections near the top, we had reached the summit. It had been snowing lightly since about the time we parted ways with Ashley.


Ryan on top of Missouri Mountain

Somehow, I convinced Ryan to hike down the couloir I wanted to ski (Ryan was on snowshoes and didn't have skis). The snow conditions permitted a ski descent from the summit all the way back to our camp. The few inches of fresh snow in the couloir made for a tremendous late May surprise and excellent skiing! In the photo below, you can make out Ryan's more or less straight line descent with my ski tracks being the furthest to the left.


Our tracks coming down Missouri Mountain's 'C' Couloir

We decided to head back to camp and wait to attempt Belford and Oxford the following day.

We got moving a couple hours earlier on Sunday morning than we did the previous day in hopes that we could summit Belford and Oxford and return to camp in time to pack up and hike out before the snow got too soft. From our camp, the route up Belford was short and direct, gaining about 3200 feet. Ashley and I sent Snowshoe Ryan on the standard trial, which followed the ridge just above the gully that we skied up. We were able to ski to within about 50 feet of the rocky summit, which was an unexpected surprise as most of the snow-filled gully was hidden from below. Ryan reached the summit about 5 minutes before Ashley and I arrived.


Ashley nearing the top of Mt. Belford

From Mt. Belford's summit, Mt. Oxford lies about 1 mile away. A gracious ridge links the two with a saddle elevation of about 13,500 feet, so traveling from one to the other is easy relative to climbing an entirely separate mountain. Although there were less clouds this day and it wasn't snowing, the wind was vicious. The price we had to pay for the handy ridge linking the two summits was a steady 35 mile an hour wind with balance-destroying gusts.


Ashley traversing from Mt. Belford to Mt. Oxford

We successfully made it to the summit of Oxford in spite of the wind. The bad news (and we already knew this) was that the easiest way back to camp was to reverse the ridge, re-summit Belford, and descend Belford to camp. The retreat seemed even windier than the original traverse. Despite the names of these two mountains, more Missouri was encountered on that traverse than anything the previous day.

While Ryan continued hiking and glissading down from the summit of Belford, Ashley and I put on our skis and began (for me) the second ski descent of a 14er in as many days. Without the fresh snow, the skiing was not quite as good as the previous day, but it sure beat walking down!

Dealing with various degrees of exhaustion and altitude sickness, we spent some time recovering at the tent before packing it up and hiking back to the car.

Quote of the Day

While reading Yvon Chouinard's "Let My People Go Surfing" last night, I ran across this quote that grabbed my attention:

"A master in the art of living draws no sharp distinction between his work and his play, his labor and his leisure, his mind and his body, his education and his recreation. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence through whatever he is doing and leaves others to determine whether he is working or playing. To himself, he always seems to be doing both."

- François Auguste René Chateaubriand

I couldn't agree more, and I hope to someday master the art of living.

Audubon

Capitalizing on the terrific but all-too-short spring ski season, Andy, Keith and I climbed up and skied down Mt. Audubon in the Indian Peaks Wilderness. We left our car on bikes at 4 am in attempt to reach the summit and begin skiing down before the snow softened up too much. We biked up the gate-closed road for a mile or so before encountering enough snow that skiing became the preferred method of travel. We then skied towards and up the southeast ridge of Mt. Audubon until the terrain became 'unskiable'.


Traversing some of the 'unskiable' terrain

Shortly after this section we encountered some steeper snow slopes which lead to the broad and much flatter summit plateau.


Keith booting up the steep snow

About 200 yards beyond the summit, we began our ski descent down the Crooked Couloir. The snow was slightly icy in the top of the couloir, but softened up considerably near the bottom, suggesting that we hit the timing just about right for the ski descent. The couloir maintained a steady pitch, which I measured at 42 degrees, for nearly 2000 vertical feet.


Me cruising on the mellower slopes below the couloir

After skiing the rest of the way out the valley, we eventually made it back to our bikes and rode back to the car, making for an 8 hour round trip.


Keith, fully loaded, riding his cruiser (I think this get-up is worthy of a Patagonia add)

Needless to say, I had a blast during this bike-climb-ski escapade. The only thing better than engaging in one of my favorite activities is to engage in many of my favorite activities! The Crooked Couloir is just one of many classic ski descents in the Indian Peaks, and I look forward to doing some more this spring - especially after the road opens and the approach isn't so long.

Moab

My parents came to visit last week and we wanted to leave Boulder over the weekend to avoid the CU graduation craziness. On previous visits, my parents have seen a majority of the cool places in Colorado, so we decided to head out of state to Utah this trip. We left for Moab Friday morning and returned late Sunday night.


Near Fisher Towers on the drive out.

Josh and I brought mountain bikes because it seemed like a shame to travel to Moab without them. Saturday morning we rode one of my favorite rides from the last visit to Moab, Klondike Bluffs. This ride combines slick rock, relatively gradual up-hills, and views at the top to get my seal of approval.


Supposed dino track on Klondike Bluffs ride.

After we returned from our ride, we headed to Arches with my parents. It was a crowded weekend, but the weather was nice and for the most part we got pictures of the arches without strangers in them.


Delicate Arch (with non-strangers)


The family at Arches


Josh airborne with Double Arch in the background.

On Sunday morning, Josh got to pick the bike ride. He chose the famous Slick Rock bike trail, which was more technical and to his liking. I was pretty sure I would break an arm, but finished with all bones intact.



Josh styling an uphill.


Ashley trying not to break any bones.

We then headed up to Dead Horse Point State Park and Canyonlands National Park.


The Colorado River from Dead Horse Point


The Green River from Canyonlands



I think by the end we were all pretty tired of seeing arches and canyons. Overall the trip was great and we packed a lot into three days. It was good to have my parents in town and I am glad we got to travel somewhere they hadn't been before.