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.

Flagstaff Monday

About a month ago, Josh and I started a tradition of biking up Flagstaff Mountain on Monday evenings. This is the best hill ride close to our house and good for quick ride after work. I usually turn around at the amphitheater for a total ride time of a little over an hour. However, Josh sometimes continues up to the true Flagstaff summit for an extra steep climb. Keith joined us yesterday and we hope to get a group together for this ride throughout the summer. Also, my parents were in town, so we have some rare photographic evidence of this event.


Keith leading the pack up the lower steep section


Josh


Ashley


At the top

Tour de Rocky Mountain National Park

Yesterday I went with Chris and Andy on a beautiful tour of the high country in Rocky Mountain National Park. We first climbed up a ridge to the less-than-impressive summit of Flattop Mountain. Although there wasn't much of a summit, the south side of the ridge was quite impressive with several steep and skiable couloirs dropping from its crest. Early in the morning, we were fortunate to see a few animals braving the altitude and cold weather, which gave me a chance to practice my wildlife photography.


Camp Robber


Well Camouflaged Ptarmigan

From the summit of Flattop Mountain, we hiked along the continental divide, above the Tyndall Glacier, until we reached the summit of Hallett Peak. The weather was beautiful all day, and we were perfectly content to linger on the summit a while, enjoy the view, and ogle at all the great rock and alpine routes that were visible from our vantage point.

From here we proceeded to ski down the south face of Hallett Peak (we had come from the north), dropping into Chaos Canyon, the area where Chris and I had skied the previous weekend. The top of the mountain contained some surprisingly nice snow on moderate pitches.


Me throwing some snow near the top of Hallett Peak

After the opening moderate pitch, we rounded a corner where the only way down was to ski, more or less, below a monstrosity of a cornice.


Cornice looming over the top of our ski run

Thankfully, the cornice didn't try to eat any of us as we took turns skiing this slope, which varied from classic corn snow to windblown powder.


Andy Giving some Perspective to the Cornice

Lower on the mountain, where the snow melt was a little more pronounced, there were several obstacles with which to contend. I decided to jump over this one, and Andy miraculously captured this photo documentation.


Airing off a small and poorly covered rock

Not to be outdone, Andy decided to go for a little air of his own on the next section of skiing. I was unable to get any footage of the ensuing event, so I'll have to describe it. Skiing down some hard packed corn, Andy sized up an air off of a wind sculpted feature. He executed it nicely, only to land in about 2 feet of packed, windblown snow. As this was quite unexpected, Andy quickly performed an advanced face plant that stopped all forward progress. Upon pulling his head out of the snow bank, he looked . . . well . . . see the picture below.


Andy's Dorsal Fin

We proceeded down the rest of the valley in high spirits. We intended to do a repeat of ski descent of Otis Redding Couloir from the previous weekend, but by the time we reached the bottom of the couloir, the snow conditions were becoming suspect due to the recent snowfall and the fact that it was warming up dramatically. We decided not to ski Otis and proceeded to tour back to the parking lot - a wise decision based on the snow conditions we encountered on the way back.

Today Ashley and I went for a mountain bike ride where we did three laps on the Betasso Preserve Loop. Despite the copious amounts of tourists, we managed not to run anyone over and made it out with only minor scrapes and bruises.