NOLS Expedition, Climbing Camp, Part III (And The End)

Part III.  And the end.  I promise.  23 days is a lot to cover in a blog.  That's my excuse.

Maryott Lake is not a layover day, but we sneak in a summit ascent by getting up at the absurd hour of 3 in the morning for a bouldery ascent of Sky Pilot Mountain.   Sky Pilots being those rather weird flowers which only grow above 11,000 feet of elevation and smell rather like a skunk.  But they are blue and pretty, and which makes up for a lot of smell.   Sky Pilot Mountain bumps just over 12,000 feet, which didn't seem so bad after a few weeks living at 10,000 feet.  But the start in the dark isn't fun...our headlamps aren't really useful under a bright moon and among tricky large boulders.  Plus we take a turn too early and end up exposed over a knife-edge to the summit rather than coming up the valley.  Whoops.  What were we thinking?  By sunrise we are casually walking up to the summit along the plateau top, which offers some of the nicest hiking we've had in a while.  It's cold and windy but calving glaciers and mountain goats distract us.  The Beartooth Mountains are laid out like a patchwork quilt around us.

We're down by 9 am, just in time to cook breakfast and pack up for a move over to Jasper Lake.  It's a short move but we are all tired and hangry by the time we reach our second to last camp of the trip.  Hangry being defined as "so hungry and tired that we become cranky until we are fed".   While we are cooking supper, 4 mountain goats come to visit.  They lick the rocks where we've peed, and generally get so nosy we have to scare them away.  They run off into the cliffs and entertain us with some heady mountain goat leaps.



But not much time to rest.  Our final hiking day may be the biggest of our trip.   It's only 3 miles, but it's up and over an 11,000 foot saddle with full packs, and a scree descent down to Glacier Lake that we've all been dreading since Doug first brought up the idea.   We know it's our last day though, and we make it a good one.  Two parts...first we slowly climb up to the saddle...my team selects a big scree field with boulders big enough to swallow us.  They shift and move and generally scare the crap out of us, but we made it to the top devoid of adrenaline.   I have to admit that ascent choice was not one of my better ideas.


Car sized boulders cover the top of the saddle, where the I team plays endless games of yahtzee while waiting for all teams to first ascend, then descend the scree on the other side.   It's slow going in gigantic, never ending boulder fields.  We're all sick of rock hopping by this point, knowing that just one shift would be enough to pin and break an ankle or leg.  Our team finds some snowfields, making a quicker descend to the lake and avoiding some rocks.  But it's a long day for everyone, taking 9 hours to go just 3 miles.  15 grateful faces regard our final climbing camp above Glacier Lake when we arrive.  The tents won't move for a week...no more hiking.

Or is there?  With empty packs (and some empty bellies) we descend down a couple thousand feet to our final resupply, where a truck meets us with another 5 days worth of food.   And much climbing gear.  Ropes, harnesses, slings, helmets, carabiners, and lots of trad.  Our packs are not empty or light on the way up.  I'm having another tough day...with a light pack on the nice trail, I am tripping and sliding all over, trying not to look like a total beginner at walking.   On the way back up, I put my head down and concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

So 4 days of climbing ensue.  I must admit I too tired to concentrate for the first couple days...a side effect of hiking with heavy packs for most of the last 17 days.   It was a mental switch for all of us...from packing up to not moving.  We learned to set up anchors, rappel, ascend, climb, and mange a top rope site.  It was quite fun, in a different sort of way than our hiking had been the rest of the time.

Of course, by that time we were really smelly, tired of eating oatmeal and rehydrated hash browns, and ready to get back on the bus back to Lander.   Some one taught me once that if you are doing a fun activity, you should quit when you are still really having a great time.  This way you will remember loving it and will want to do this again.   I love backpacking and being in the backcountry, but perhaps a shorter time period might suit me better.  I like showers too much.  I think I've mentioned that already.  

Anyway, all good things must come to an end, and we reached our last day, to the relief of some and the disappointment of others.   Our newly loaded packs, this time with climbing gear, too, were shouldered for the last time.  The trail descent seemed to go quickly, but the bus couldn't navigate the rutted gravel road to the trailhead.   We continued walking, on hard ground which pounded our tender feet.  3 miles turned into 5 before the bus came into the view of our grateful eyes.

We managed to find pizza and ice cream for dinner in a passing town, but we weren't done with camping yet.   Our final night was spent in the Wyoming desert, under skies flashing with lightning bolts.  We sorted all our gear to turn back in, then stayed up late to reflect on the journey we had just come through.

I'm not sure why I wanted to sleep with no tent...oh, wait I wanted to fall asleep under the stars for at least one night on our expedition.  Why I thought it was a good idea with thunderstorms around, I really can't say.  At 2 in the morning I woke to raindrops falling on our sleeping bags, and hurriedly tossed the rainfly over us and got it set up.  Not quickly enough, though, as I was then damp and rather smelly the rest of the night.  Ooops.

At least the next day was bringing us to clean clothes and the almight shower, so it didn't matter too much.   We made quick work of sorting our gear in Lander, the quicker to get to our showers, our cell phones, and back to the real world.  A few more debriefings, a dinner out on the town (salad, at last) for a last hurrah with our group, and then it was over.  We'd be going our separate ways the next morning, back to real life and the rest of our lives.   I hesitate to get sappy, but such a journey like this was intense in a lot of ways.  We might not meet up as a group again, but we won't forget, either.   And sometime down the road of life we'll realize just what we learned on this and other life experiences and our lives will be better because of it.

The end.

NOLS Backpacking: Part 1

NOLS Backpacking: Part 2

NOLS Backpacking: Part 3

A Backpacking Poem

NOLS: The Crew

Sky Pilot Summit at 12,047 ft.

The Bear Fence

Impressive snowfields on Sky Pilot Mountain

Harrogate Rock Climbing Wall

The Harrogate Climbing Centre has been my weekly climbing escape for a few years now...pretty much since it opened.  Great for upper body strength, and fun, too.  Plus a great way to hang out with friends of all climbing abilities, there is a climb for everyone. 

This was Rob's first practice attempt at using Adobe Premiere Elements.  Since his sense of music and timing is much better than mine, guess I'm out of a job!  (Look for the cool time-lapse at the middle and end of the video).

Adventure Racing Poem

...and now for something a little silly

Adidas TERREX Sting In Stirling AR 2012

Bang! Goes the gun, and we’re off like a shot,

Oops, running too fast, better that we’d not!

A long race awaits, a true test of skill,

Reaching the finish, is a force of will.

Racers spread out over hill, fell, and dale,

Near the beginning we all feel quite hale.

As days pass unending, pace starts to slow,

Without any rest, how far can we go?

Food is our fuel, so we constantly eat,

Gummies and shot bloks, are all so sweet.

Hand me some chocolate, to melt on my lips

I’m craving the sight of some fish and chips.

Time on the water can be a nice change,

We paddle in pairs and rest tired legs.

But rivers throw rapids around each bend,

This race is continuing without any end!

Help! We’ve tipped over, what’s to do now?

The bailer, I’ve lost it!  Pick up the bow.

Dump out the water, hope our bags are sealed,

Where’s the next rapid, keep your eyes peeled!

Our moods come and go, about like the sun.

With warmth on our face, then wow this is fun!

More likely, though, is a faceful of rain,

Soaking wet clothes are a consummate pain.

When darkness falls, we continue along,

The world is sleeping, this just seems so wrong.

A beam breaks the darkness, to show the way,

Some trails stay hidden, and we go astray.

It’s 2 am, can’t we stop for some sleep? 

My eyes are half-closed, I try not to weep.

Not on your life, we’ve got deadlines to beat,

I slump, uncaring, against my bike seat.

At last, a transition, a really nice sight,

With shelter and food, and welcoming light.

Spare bags give us shoes, dry clothes and some socks,

A place to sit down, and dump out the rocks.

Now for a wetsuit, a harness and lid,

Jump in the waterfall, act like a kid.

Canyoning cools down our muscles just right,

The largest leap, is an adrenaline spike!

Back on the bikes for the longest bit yet,

Puddles soon show us we’re gonna get wet.

Glen Tilt pulls us up the smooth valley trail,

Oh, more hike-a-bike, I let out a wail!

The orienteering is optional, right?

Instead we’ll just sit with antlers in sight!

Food from Clive Ramsey’s, some pasta and veg,

Warmth keeps us from tilting right over the edge.

We’ve chosen the long route, our bums rebel,

We’re biking a Munro, that’s something to tell!

O-k, we’re hike-a-biking a Munro?

Bums get a break, but progress is so slow.

Time to box up bikes, get them out of sight,

Let’s get up on the hills while there’s still light.

The long trek before us, how far can we go?

I don’t know, but we’re traveling so slow!

Teams travel in packs, just the four of us,

Alone on the horizon, from dawn ‘til dusk.

My feet are so wet, it’s boggy out there,

Where’s my dry socks? Our toes deserve some care!

Can’t go on forever, asleep on our feet,

We break out the tent, when we’re really beat.

Where to erect it, I see rocks and slopes?

Wind tries to steal it, we crawl in and hope...

For moments of stillness, a second of sleep,

A chance to lay flat, dry our feet and eat.

All too soon chimes my watch, beep-beeps your watch,

Get up, tired bones, we’ve controls to catch!

Rock scrambles loom above, so dark in the night,

We’re tired and cold, we wait for first light.

Volunteers in blue jackets point the way,

Thanks for enduring such winds without pay!

Transitions again, again, and some more,

More biking, more paddling, what’s in store?

Packs crammed with gear, may explode in a pile,

That wet shirt stuffed inside, smells terribly vile.

Hold on, I’m thirsty, my bottle is dry!

“A stream up ahead”, soon comes the glad cry.

Maps fly all over, where’s the one I need?

To tell us the turns, the hills we should heed.

Late in the race, our muscles are so sore,

Sleepmonsters beckon, with visions galore.

In stillness the midges come at us again,

Speed through transition, only way to win!

Teammates tell jokes, lend a hand, or a drink,

There when needed, to save us from the brink.

Carry our packs, and pull us up the hills,

Push bikes unceasing, pick us up from spills.

Now drop the bikes, to the finish line run,

Hand-in-hand, we will cross the line as one.

Medals and cameras stuffed in our face,

Only one thought, that we’ve finished the race!



Via Ferrata (Via della Trincee): Dolomites

This would be our 8th day in a row of hiking and climbing, so all of our legs were dragging a little bit.  But it was the last day in the Dolomites before returning to Venice so we determined to make the best of it.   It's always hard to look at a guidebook description and compare routes, but with our third via ferrata of the week, we really saved the best for last.  This one was in the guidebook (Via Ferratas of the Dolomites, Vol. 1) as ARABBA 2.

Save the legs strategy #1:  Take the cable car up.  And up, and up, and up.  At the top station, we were already looking over the Lake di Fedaia with the Marmolada glacier in the background, easily at a higher elevation than we had been all week.

Save the legs strategy #2:  Tackle the hardest climbing first.  Luckily the via ferrata route did that for this this time...after just 15 minutes of hiking up we were already at the start of the cables.  It did seem to go straight up for a while, but the book had warned us that this was just at the start.  So we rose vertically and quickly for a few meters, then found ourselves clambering along a knife ridge, with views down both valleys, of lakes and glaciers and lovely swirling clouds.

Save the legs strategy #3: Skip a section.  The cables were arranged in three parts, where it was possible to enter and leave the ferrata from the parallel hiking trail.  Sarah headed around to the second section and met us there.   Unfortunately she missed a nice bit of ferrata aside from the steep start, so perhaps she'll get to come back to this one someday.

The first section included quite a bit of downclimbing, a rickety bridge, and monumentous drops to the north.  The fog swirled in and out, giving us uncommon views of the air beneath our feet.  I lent Rob my GoPro video camera, and he was entranced by it for a few hours, resulting in the best bits of video we captured during the trip.  See the finished video here   That might be why we have less real photos of this one, we were distracted by video equipment.  :)

The second section, Sarah back with us, had a bunch of falling apart wooden and brick structures from the wars.  Well, there really wasn't much left of them but rotten beams, and a lot more downclimbing.  It was a short section, really. 

The third section was more knife ridge stuff, very cool, with a couple of tunnels including one with lots of side trails and sniper holes.  It looked a rather wet dreary place to camp out, but it was probably better for the soldiers than being outside in the winter.

Save the legs strategy #4:  Find a shortcut back to the start.   After exiting the tunnels at the end of the ferrata, the trail had us winding down and around to the trail in the lower valley.  I determined that we could go back through the tunnels a ways and then take a steep goat trail back to where we had started.  This certainly saved us some time and effort, although Rob had a few stumbles on the narrow trail with butt meeting grass. Luckily no injuries except loss of face...doubly lucky my video camera wasn't on at the time!

It is possible to walk down the hill, but the cable car was just so enticing, and fast!    Although the other two ferratas had taken us slightly longer than the guidebook predicted, this one was quite a bit fast than we expected.    Good for us, as it allowed us to reluctantly wave goodbye to the mountains and head down to Venice for a last day of sunshine and heat.

Via Ferrata (Sandro Pertini): Dolomites

Our second Via Ferrata was near the town of Selva, again not far from our campground so an easy drive.  Listed in the guidebook (Via Ferratas of the Dolomites, Vol. 1) as SELVA 5, it was the most technically challenging routes we had selected.  This was also a newer route, having been installed less than 10 years ago. 

Again, the parking lot was filling up as we arrived, but the valley was also popular with hikers so the cables themselves weren't as crowded.  It was a short hike to the start of the climb, which went pretty much up the nose of a cliff face.  It was very steep, very sustained, and only had one real location to rest and eat on the way up.  We were more than ready for a break by the time we reached it! 

We had chosen this route because it was a fairly short approach and descent afterwards...we were trying to save our legs a little. After all, this would be the 6th day in a row that we had been hiking up hills with some serious elevation changes, and we were all feeling a little pooped. So to rest our legs, we tested our arms instead. Which turned out ok, as the route was really beautiful, and fun to climb. The knife-edged rock ridges across the valley were stunning, and the cumulous clouds just made the scenery more dramatic.

I particularily enjoyed the ladder/bridge, but we were all happy to rest our arms when we finally arrived at the top.   We took a few minutes to just lay in the grass and look at the gorgeous scenery.  The Dolomites will take your breath away, they really will.   Little did we know, though, that we were laying on top of a shallow, natural bridge of rock, which connected the flake of cliff we had climbed to the rest of the ridge!   Luckily we didn't find out about that until we had hiked up and around by the hut and back around onto another finger. 

The descent was fairly modest, with good trails and no scrambling (unlike previous days) so we did get a bit of a rest.   Not enough, though, unfortunately.  Rob and I set off to do a via ferrata the next day at Falzarego Pass, and I was so tired (after 35 hours of hiking in just 7 days, ouch!) that I barely made the hour's climb up the pass, and after arriving at the start of the via ferrata, could only look at it and shake my head.  I knew I was too tired to safely tackle the cliffs ahead of me.   So we'll save that one for a future trip, as it did look to be a cracking route for energetic legs!

View of the natural bridge from the descent route, the via ferrata comes up the other side.

       

 



Via Ferrata (Brigata Tridentina): Dolomites

After a break of at least 5 years, we have returned to the Dolmonites to indulge in one of war's few positive achievements, the Via Ferrata.    Started in World War I as a way to get troops up into the high mountain ridges to defend their countries, Via Ferrata means "Iron Way".   These mountain paths use cables, pegs, ladders, bridges, tunnels, and sometimes even ziplines to go up and over cliffs and otherwise impossible terrain.  Via Ferratas are now built around the world, but remain concentrated in the Alps.  The old war routes are maintained and new routes are still being designed and installed.  Best of all, the routes are free!   Although some do require the use of a cable car to get up to them, therefore saving the legs...

 

The route: up the waterfall in the right valley,descent on the left.  Simples.

Our first via ferrata in Italy was chosen because it was just up the road from our campground in Corvara.  In fact, we could see the start of the route before even setting off.   The parking lot was filling up as we drove in, and a steady line of people headed down the trail in front of us.  The guidebook (Via Ferratas of the Dolomites, Vol. 1) had warned that this route, listed as CORV 4, would be really popular, and they weren't exagerating.  By the time we were geared up at 9am, the lot was full.   

Wearing a helmet, harness, gloves, and special via ferrata landyards, we arrived at the start of the cables, which were just a few minutes from our car.  No wonder the route was popular!   The line of climbers was already clambering up the side of the waterfall, but once on the route, everyone went mostly at the same pace and it didn't feel crowded.   

The waterfall was coming down off of the Sella Massif, the heart of the Italian Dolomites.  We had wonderful weather and the views were absolutely stunning.  Slowly climbing the 700 vertical meters of the via ferrata gave us time to enjoy the views, and gasp as each new range came into view.   

The climb got steadily more difficult (perhaps we were more tired), concluding with a vertical ladder and then a bridge across a deep, narrow chasm.  Pisciadu Hut was waiting at the top, offering refreshing beverages to the steady stream of climbers.  The gorgeous backdrop of a mountain lake and further high summits set off the hut perfectly, and we got to enjoy snatches of song from a large group of men worshiping at the lakeside.

The shortest descent back to our car was reputed to be very steep and not so nice, according to a family of Brits resting at the top.  So we took a longer route home, dropping us into a scree valley home to a few mountain goats.  A steep descent opened up into the valley and multiple gentle routes choices;  Rob and I walked back to the car, and Sarah took the path to the campground.  Once again the rain held off until we were all back in the tent.

A busy route but well worth the crowds.  The scenery was absolutely stunning.

Our campground is down there somewhere....



Rob leads the way