Vail: Some More Ice

The last two fridays I have spent in Vail, Colorado. Strangely enough, I've been there three times so far this year, and I haven't skied yet. But the ice climbing has been great!

Two weeks ago we went back to the Rigid Designator amphitheater. Such a beautiful location.

Rigid Designator

"Rigid Designator" WI 4-5

Click here to see more ice climbing photos!

Exhausted: It's not the climb, it's the approach

The wind in the parking lot is blowing hard, blowing snow into our coats before we can get them zipped. The trees block the wind on the trail, and I quickly start to overheat from wearing too many layers; I do not operate well when I am overheating.

I walk at a pretty fast pace. I grew up with a father that only operates in one gear: Go! But I'm in the Rocky Mountain National Park to go ice climbing with Matt Lloyd and Colin Coulson, both of whom are quite a bit taller than me. And Colin has the same gear as my father, only with longer legs. He charges up the inclined trail. My lungs are still getting used to operating at high elevations, coming from a lowly altitude of only 900 feet for the last 26 years. Every step takes much more effort than it should. Every step Matt and Colin take puts more space between us. I try to charge faster but that only causes the fire in my chest to overpower my breathing. To make it worse, the knee deep snow forces me to expend so much more energy.

The snow is nicely packed on the trail for about the first mile, but as more variants split off the number of hikers and snowshoers that have gone before us dwindle until the trail becomes much less obvious. And difficult: we sink into at least our knees with every step (Makes me wish for some snow shoes, or I'll take my skis and skins next time).

Glacier Gorge

We are greeted by blasting winds as we reach The Loch, a beautiful frozen lake nestled into the valley between rocky peaks. Leaning into the harsh winds we cross the lake, and above us, about half way up the mountain, we see an ice flow that's formed out of a waterfall. This is our destination. But we struggle through waist deep snow to finally reach the flow. 

Matt and Colin lean into the high winds sweeping across The Loch, a frozen lake in the Glacier Gorge area of RMNP

It's shorter than it looked from the lake - only about 35ft tall - but as I have found in my little experience ice climbing, climbs tend to be more technical and challenging than they look.

Matt jumping on "The Crypt". 

Matt Lloyd leads "the Crypt" in the midst of a snow storm

And the exit through Glacier Gorge

We trek out the way we came in. Thankfully a few more snowshoers had come up this trail making the hiking a bit easier. We tried check out another area, but the there was not tracked trail and we were all too tired to give it any real effort. I'm thankful to reach the car. Exhausted.

I'm pretty new to ice climbing. I started in January. I've found, in general, the approaches are the most exhausting part of the day. I feel comfortable, and probably blissfully & ignorantly confident, on the ice. I just recently did my first lead climb on a WI3+ in Vail. And I'm psyched. But unless you're at a park like Ouray, the approaches tend to be the hardest part of the day for me. In RMNP 3 miles of hard hiking through deep snow has been the pinnacle so far. But there are so many climbs I want to do now, and the approaches seem to be the most daunting.

The More I Shoot the More I Learn

The more I shoot the more I learn. As it should be. Sometimes you have a great shoot where you love everything, and sometimes you leave feeling like you knew you could have done better. I think you learn the most from the latter. 

You can light it differently, look for a different angle, use different framing, communicate with the subject better, etc. It can be any number of things. But I also find that even when I leave feeling like that, when I look through my photos I find something that surprises me. 

Just some random thoughts.

View from the backside of the 3rd Flatiron looking south east. 

The second Flatiron as seen from the 3rd, overlooking Boulder. It's amazing that this trailhead is 5 minutes from my apartment door.

Shelf Road

Tuesday I took my first trip to Shelf Road, a sport climbing area about an hour west of Colorado Springs. It will be the first of many. I am excited about doing more trad climbing in Colorado and around the west, but I definitely love sport climbing. Matt Lloyd has been giving me the deluxe tour of Colorado climbing, and it's been great!

I am definitely missing climbing in Red River Gorge, Kentucky: the overhanging, juggy, sandpaper pockets; the easy approaches; Miguel's Pizza. But I have to say, I love having a view. I feel locked into a tunnel of deciduous trees; you can't see more than a few feet from you. There's something relaxing about open spaces. I love being on the peaks of mountains or looking out into the emptiness of the ocean.  Shelf Road provides some great sport climbing (even the cracks are bolted, which is weird to me) with some amazing views.

We climbed at an area called Cactus Cliffs. Matt had been talking about a route up a blank face that you could see from across the valley, Lats Don't Have Feelings. It's a very aesthetic and crimpy 5.11d, which is fitting to my new found style. (Somehow my style has switched recently from powerful and overhanging to crimpy and technical, which is great for Colorado. I'm not sure when this transition happened, but I am enjoying it.)

I am excited about discovering more of Colorado's climbing, and shooting with some great climbers. Shelf Road will definitely offer me some great times in the future.

Matt working through the crux of a fun 5.12a

Matt makes some great faces when he's "trying hard"

Finally, a Post With Some Snow In It!

This winter has been poor when it comes to good quality snowfall. I feel like Boulder has had more snow than any of the Summit County ski areas. Anyway, last Sunday I met my friend Nick, and we went to Breckenridge. I was betting that because of the Super Bowl people would be staying away from the slopes, even though it was a gorgeous day. I think I was partly right, but then again, I don't really know. We didn't see much of Breckenridge (proper).

Nick almost at the top of Peak 6

Without much a plan, we just started going up. We took the T-bar lift to the top of Peak 8 and decided to traverse Peak 7 to the ski area boundary line. Everything we passed was super chopped up, and off in the distance we could see fresh, untouched lines coming from Peak 6. Eh, why not? We duck under the boundary line and make our way around the mid section of Peak 7. We find a path where a few others have ventured off with the same plan and start the trek up the south face of Peak 6. Where the wind has blown off the loose snow and it's rocky the walking is easy, but as soon as you step away from the rocks you find yourself almost chest deep in powder.

Another skier makes the trek to the top of Peak 6

The last little bit before the summit

Nick modeling my pack and skis

Going down takes a lot less effort than the approach, but we stop and make the most of it. I drop in first so I can get in position to photograph Nick coming off the cornice. The first turn is on super hard pack, but the further down we go the better the snow gets. We're floating in powder; jumping off small clifflines into pillowy soft landings. By the time we reach to bottom of the bowl we're not ready to quit.

We decide to take a second lap. The conditions are just too good to only get one run in. So, off come the skis and we start the push up the north east face of Peak 6. There is a trail here as we are not the only ones doing laps.  Two snowboarders pass me, one on a split board with climbing skins and the other using snowshoes. A split board is a snowboard that separates into two boards you can wear like skis for ascending and traversing. Climbing skins attach to the bottom of your skis or split board and allow you to glide forward to prevent you from sliding backwards, which makes ascending much much easier. I need to buy skins for my set up, making my life a lot easier.

Speaking of...both guys mentioned to Nick and I that we shouldn't be in the side country without avalanche safety gear. This is true. Things I need to get: a beacon, a shovel, and a probe.

Climbing the northeast slope almost destroys me. Climbing at almost 13,000 feet: I am not accustomed to this. Nick gets to the top in what seems like an hour before I do. Each step up my boot sinks into the snow making each step even harder. I take five or six steps and have to stop to catch my breath. At times, when I'm sinking up to my waist, I just start crawling. I think this probably looks pathetic, and I start thinking to myself, "I am the tortoise. I can win this race. Take each step slow." And with one step at a time I slowly make my way to the summit. After a few minutes laying on my back, staring up at the blue sky, my body forgets the pain that it's in.

We take our victory lap slicing through the thick powder, jumping off of small clifflines and enjoying the soft landings. It's time to head back in-bounds in Breckenridge. We can see where we need to go. Just head as far right as you can. We traverse right but reach the tree line before the boundary. Once in the trees Nick has trouble keeping his short snowboard above the powder, but we keep moving down the mountain. We're making our way to the right while still pointed down hill - apparently not far enough south. We come out on a cross-country ski path that shoots us out into a residential area. Skiing on the snow-packed road we figure we will pop out at the resort sooner or later. After a couple of miles we finally come across a lady walking her dog who informs us, "You're still over a mile from the base of the resort and it's all up hill from here." Thankfully, a young guy in a Jeep stops and gives us a ride the rest of the way. We get to the base of Peak 8 at 3:50pm, just in time for one last run, which means we technically got 3 runs in on this great great day! It was Nick's first time at Breck and he still really hasn't ridden Breck.  

Bouldering in Colorado in February

I think everyone can agree that the weather this year has been exceedingly strange. In my first winter in Boulder I've seen too many bluebird and 50º days in January and February. Right now there is a foot or more snow on the ground, but just before the snow came I went with Matt Lloyd and some friends to Eldorado Canyon for a quick bouldering session. I love having so much climbing just 20 minutes from my door!

Keith North on his send of the problem

Ice Climbing in Vail

A couple weeks ago Matt Lloyd asked if I wanted to join him for some ice climbing in Vail. After my short introduction in Ouray a few weeks before I was psyched to try it out again. I meet Matt and Jose Rodriguez outside of Golden, and we head west on I-70 into a snowstorm. The tunnel through Loveland pass is closed just behind us; we were lucky to get through (would have made our day a lot less productive). The approach to the Rigid Designator Amphitheater starts among fancy condos with hot tubs and groomed cross country ski paths (that if you step on you get yelled at), but soon we're knee deep in fresh powder pushing up the mountain through an aspen forest. Still being relatively new to this altitude, hiking at 10,000 feet is very strenuous for me, especially in deep powder. 

Matt's hands are cold

Matt jumping on The Thang (WI 5+, M 5+)

Matt leading The Spiral Staircase (WI 4)

My first ice climb lead (sport?) on The Spiral Staircase