Mount Oxford is one of three 14ers will be attempting in April. The plan, as it stands now, is to move across the saddle from Mount Belford before descending and attempting Missouri Mountain the following day.
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The best part of this project has been, without a doubt, the connections we’re making with climbers around the world. Our next climb is a perfect example of that.
We’re just getting started here but climber Alan Arnette has been a major source of support for us – providing much needed feedback, climbing tips, contributing a post to We Never Stop, and even volunteering to be the subject of our first climber interview. Now he’s offered to host our next climb – a valuable learning opportunity for climbers in our position.
The plan (it’s still evolving) is for the two of us to meet Alan and two of his experienced climbing buddies (Patrick and Robert) in April for camping and crampon/ice axe assisted climbing in the snowy Collegiate Peaks section of Colorado’s Sawatch Range.
Day 1
Drive to the trailhead and hike, likely with snowshoes, to a camp at 11,500 feet.
Day 2
Climb a long ridge to the summit of Mount Belford (14,197 ft – 4,327 m). We’ll break there before making our way over the saddle to the summit of Mount Oxford (14,153 ft – 4,313 m). From there we’ll make our way back to camp for the night.
Day 3
We’ll be climbing early – up a fairly steep snow wall before turning up a steep, somewhat exposed, ridge and heading for the summit of Missouri Mountain (14,067 ft – 4,288 m). We’ll return to our initial camp from there.
Day 4
Break camp. Search for steak and beer.
Needless to say, we’re pretty geeked out about all of this. It’s the perfect challenge for us at this time and fantastic learning opportunity. We also expect it to be a hell of a lot of fun. You can’t ask for more than that.
Stay tuned for more updates as planning and training continues.
Note: The photo of Missouri Mountain is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 License by szczepan1990.
I don’t usually play these blog games but Jim Hughes is a volunteer Lay Chaplain at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center and he wants to know “5 Surprising Things About Mountain Climbing” so I’m going to take a shot at it.
First, I should state the obvious – I’m just getting started at this whole mountain climbing thing. You’re going to get a newbie’s perspective but after months of research and work I’m at least a somewhat educated newbie. Take all this with a grain of salt – or feel free to offer your own suggestions in the comments. Here are my five observations:
Style Matters
Climbing is often portrayed as an epic struggle where the only goal is reaching the summit. It’s easy enough to understand why a script writer would take this approach, it’s dramatic and universally understood, but it often obscures an incredibly complex sport and community.
Alpine, ice, and rock climbing (there are others such as bouldering) have their own unique approaches to gaining altitude. A technique appropriate for one style might be the worst possible approach in another. And like any constantly evolving sport there will also be disagreement, often amongst equally competent climbers, about which approach work best and when it is best used.
Style extends beyond technique and also applies to community established rules of etiquette. Again, these rules may vary from niche to niche or, like the Leave No Trace movement, be widely accepted across multiple climbing styles. Since the sport is extensively self-policed, and because the community is relatively small and tight-knit, gross errors in style and etiquette can have a lasting impact on a climber’s reputation.
A lot of the feedback that I receive from experienced climbers has been positive and tends to revolve around style. They appreciate the fact that I want to be a self-reliant climber, that I want to master the skills needed to move safely in an alpine environment, that I’m training to the limit of my ability, and that I want climb for what they perceive as the right reasons. This is obviously a complex and highly subjective evaluation but this is what climbers subject themselves and their fellow climbers to almost constantly. Ultimately style matters most because it gives us partial but valuable insight into a climber’s personality, competency, and ethical standards. The stakes are high and these factors are weighed heavily.
It’s Harder Than it Looks
First, climbing is physically demanding. It doesn’t matter if you’re attempting a steep 2,000 foot walk-up, a challenging 30 foot boulder, or an 8,000m peak. There are obviously many degrees of difficulty but climbing demands moderate to the most extreme levels of physical fitness. If you choose to seriously pursue climbing then typically you are also choosing to commit yourself to months or years of intense physical training.
“It’s always further than it looks. It’s always taller than it looks. And it’s always harder than it looks.” – The 3 rules of mountaineering.
Climbing will also challenge you intellectually. Becoming a successful climber requires a significant amount of knowledge, skill, and judgment. There are climbing techniques to master, weather conditions to monitor, and many different types of equipment to evaluate and use effectively. Don’t forget survival skills and physiology too!
“The pleasure of risk is in the control needed to ride it with assurance so that what appears dangerous to the outsider is, to the participant, simply a matter of intelligence, skill, intuition, coordination… in a word, experience. Climbing in particular, is a paradoxically intellectual pastime, but with this difference: you have to think with your body. Every move has to be worked out in terms of playing chess with your body. If I make a mistake the consequences are immediate, obvious, embarrassing, and possibly painful. For a brief period I am directly responsible for my actions. In that beautiful, silent, world of mountains, it seems to me worth a little risk.” – A. Alvarez.
Perhaps most significantly, climbing will also challenge you psychologically. Climber’s routinely push themselves to achieve the difficult and seemingly impossible. There is a very delicate balance, one that many climber’s have failed to achieve, between maximum performance and a suicidal commitment to gaining altitude at all costs. Climbers pushing the limit must remain aware and self-critical in the most demanding circumstances imaginable. If they do cross the line, especially in places like the death zone, then only the judgment and intervention of their climbing partners may save them. On top of the personal challenge you’ll may also be tested with difficult group dynamics or leadership challenges if you climb in a team environment.
“Technique and ability alone do not get you to the top; it is the willpower that is the most important. This willpower you cannot buy with money or be given by others..it rises from your heart” – Junko Tabei, first woman to climb Everest.
The ultimate goal of climbing is the navigation of immense physical, intellectual, and psychological challenges under extreme pressure in a manner that ensures success. Success, at least in my book, is chiefly defined by safety. There may be many goals and factors that contribute to your individual evaluation of a climb, and definitions of success, but I think that most of us agree that it only matters if you are still around at the end of the day.
“Getting to the summit is optional, getting down is mandatory” – Ed Viesturs
It Is More Dangerous Than You Think
This might not be surprising considering what you’ve read so far, and recent events, but I’ve only hinted at the possible dangers. Seemingly bottomless, and often hidden, crevasses, tumbling seracs, crumbly rock, huge variations in weather, altitude sickness, avalanches, bad decision making, and countless other factors conspire to make climbing a demanding and unforgiving sport. Climbing risks in popular culture are typically limited to falling and freezing to death. While those are certainly legitimate risks, the full picture is significantly more complicated and it can take years for a climber to master it fully.
“Mountains are not fair or unfair, they are just dangerous.” – Reinhold Messner
It should also be noted that although additional risk does come with increased altitude the most dangerous climbs are not always the highest. Weather, remoteness, geology, a climber’s ability, and other factors come together in a complex and ever-changing web of risk that may result in your local 4,000m peak being far more dangerous than Mount Everest on any given day. In fact, while Everest may seem to embody all that is dangerous about mountaineering, and is quite dangerous, it is also statistically safer than other mountains such as K2.
It’s Safer Than You Think
I know that it sounds like I’m contradicting myself here but stay with me. It is true that highly skilled and cautious climbers can face injury or death due to factors beyond their control. Freak accidents can and do happen. However, a careful study of mountaineering accidents will reveal some very telling trends. Many accidents can be traced to climbers using poor judgment, using faulty gear (or using it incorrectly), climbing well beyond their abilities, and entering extreme environments unprepared. These mistakes are preventable and within the climber’s control. It may be a bit unrealistic to call climbing “safe” given it’s inherent risks but it can be as safe as you choose to make it.
You Can Do It
Admittedly, I’ve probably made climbing sound like an incredibly difficult undertaking. It is. However, you don’t have to be born at the base of the Rockies or have a perfect set of lungs to have a go at climbing. Mountains are no less demanding but challenges that were once thought to be insurmountable obstacles are being overcome with increasing frequency as the sport advances. There are now climbers with prosthetic limbs – even wheelchair bound climbers. Climbers are reaching the highest peaks in their seventies. Respect for those who love mountains, and who are willing to work hard to overcome apparent obstacles to get there, is shared throughout the climbing community. Commit yourself, connect to the community, and you’ll be surprised how they come together to help you reach your goals. You can climb mountains.
“The first question which you will ask and which I must try to answer is this, ‘What is the use of climbing Mount Everest ?’ and my answer must at once be, ‘It is no use’. There is not the slightest prospect of any gain whatsoever. Oh, we may learn a little about the behavior of the human body at high altitudes, and possibly medical men may turn our observation to some account for the purposes of aviation. But otherwise nothing will come of it. We shall not bring back a single bit of gold or silver, not a gem, nor any coal or iron. We shall not find a single foot of earth that can be planted with crops to raise food. It’s no use. So, if you cannot understand that there is something in man which responds to the challenge of this mountain and goes out to meet it, that the struggle is the struggle of life itself upward and forever upward, then you won’t see why we go. What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life. We do not live to eat and make money. We eat and make money to be able to enjoy life. That is what life means and what life is for.” – Edward Whymper, Scrambles Amongst the Alps
(Thanks to JockontheRocks, Alan Arnette, and Climbnarc for their feedback as I was preparing this post. The opinions and errors are mine alone.)
Guadalupe Peak
Texas High Point
Elevation: 8,749 feet (2,667 metres)
Coordinates: 31°53′28″N 104°51′36″W
An Early Start
We’d arrived at Guadalupe Mountains National Park at dawn the following morning, hiked to Devil’s Hall and back (with no sleep whatsoever), and crashed out in our tents by 4 PM after setting alarms for 4 AM the following morning.
The 4 AM wake-up wasn’t too much of a shock thanks to nearly 12 hours of sleep but it was still an ungodly early hour to be up. It was cool, perhaps in the upper 30s (fahrenheit) , with clear skies that revealed millions of stars. Jermaine and I both quickly, and quietly so as not to disturb the campers surrounding us, went to work breaking down tents, stuffing our backpacks, filling hydration packs, and munching on gorp and energy gels to fuel ourselves for the effort ahead. Lifting my pack to throw it into the bed of Jermaine’s truck for the short drive to the trail head was a shock. At 50-55 pounds it seemed heavier than ever but that’s exactly what we wanted for this training climb.
We drove the short distance to the trailhead, parked, took a couple of photos, and started dialing in our packs. The trail to Guadalupe Peak isn’t really visible from the campsite even though its countless switchbacks crisscross the walls that tower a thousand feet above the lower camps. Maps tend to use straight lines to represent the long series of switchbacks so they don’t always accurately reveal what you are in for when you start this trip. We’d read dozens of trip reports and knew that the trail gained elevation quickly but didn’t really know what to expect otherwise.
Moving on to the trail I muttered something about keeping it “slow and steady” and lead off in the dark with my Black Diamond Spot headlamp lighting the way. I had no idea exactly how slow things would actually be until I ran out of breath about 30 feet later. Jermaine wasn’t fairing much better. We stopped a few seconds and moved on only to stop again a few feet later. We repeated this three or four times before I muttered something about failure not being an option. I think I dropped a few F-bombs as well. Privately, I was wondering how I could go from months of strenuous workouts to nearly being stopped dead in my tracks at the base of Guadalupe Peak but I wasn’t going to stop. I decided that the cold, altitude, pack, and early hour were all a shock to my system and that I’d eventually hit my groove if I could maintain a slow and steady pace. At this point I asked Jermaine to lead so that I could could focus more on getting into the zone.
Climbing Higher
Jermaine did a great job of setting short-term goals and moving us slowly from point to point in that early hour. I did manage to find my groove and we found ourselves several hundred feet above our camp by sunrise. We started switching in and out of the lead position with the leader calling out hazards, mostly exposed areas, along the way. We’d stop occasionally to send status updates to Twitter or give our shoulders a rest but mostly we keep a slow steady pace that took us higher and higher up the wall.
Exposed
The Guadalupe Peak trail is fairly rugged. It’s almost entirely rocky and uneven. Some of the rock is quite slippery and it is not unusual for the narrow trail to also slope gently towards exposed drop offs that would easily prove fatal should you be unfortunate enough to slip. I can’t say it really concerned us much in those early hours. I think we were both more excited about gaining altitude than worried about falling but the standard leader’s joke when passing through the more dangerous sections was “Um, don’t fall here.”
While there was a healthy respect for these areas any fear was offset by the sheer awesomeness of standing two feet from the edge and surveying the landscape spreading out a thousand or more feet below and knowing that you reached that point under your own power. It’s a feeling that can’t be conveyed by photos, videos, or trip reports. You have to do it to fully grasp the impact.
Alpine Forest
We continued to gain elevation and move along the wall towards Pine Springs Canyon. At this point we moved up to a gap on the mountain’s shoulder which is exposed on two sides. From here you move around to the other, windier side, which shortly transitions into switchbacks that climb through an alpine forest. The view from this point was amazing so we paused for a moment. The 30-40 MPH winds were chilly but bearable. However, we were nearly knocked off our feet by a freak gust that must have exceeded 70 MPH. We were both rocked but instinctively leaned forward on our trekking poles at a 90 degree angle to minimize our profiles and managed to ride out the gust. It was an exciting but dangerous reminder of the unpredictability of mountain weather.
Temperatures started to fall as we climbed through the forest. We were no longer directly exposed to sunlight and we were catching strong winds. Heavier gloves came out and we moved on – wondering when the high camp would appear. We were still strong but busting 50+ pound packs uphill on rocky surfaces while getting pushed around by strong cold winds is hard work – very hard work.
Climbing higher we could see the vibrant fall colors of the trees in Pine Springs Canyon over a thousand feet below. The high walls of the canyon, that towered above us on our previous day’s hike to Devil’s Hallway, were now far below.
We busted out the new series of switchbacks for another few hundred feet of elevation gain and moved around to find a small valley bordered by 100-200 foot slopes on either side. We didn’t know it yet but the high camp is situated on the high point to the right at about 7,900 feet. It would take us another half hour to reach that spot and we were cursing the person who decided to place the backcountry camp site on a point above the trail.
High Camp
We were the first group into the site that day and had our pick of the few sites. The most popular site is surrounded on three sides by a small wall made of tree branches and rocks. However, there is another site before it that looks more exposed but sits in a naturally recessed area. The winds were really moving at this point, constantly high and probably gusting to 50 MPH, and it seemed that the recessed camp site was actually fairing better. We dropped our packs, decided to take a short break before setting up our tents, and found places to sit that were sheltered from the wind.
About 30 minutes later we both woke up. We had sprawled out on the cold ground, fallen asleep, and were now shivering like mad. Temperatures were dropping and the wind was picking up. We struggled to our feet and moved quickly, as quickly as we could, to erect our tents. We needed to get out of the wind and warm up.
Setting up tents in howling, and increasingly cold, winds is not a piece of cake. However, we were motivated and worked as a team to setup both quickly. Mine went up first. Jermaine actually had to get inside of it, while I worked outside, to keep it from blowing away at one point. Luckily, we had rope which we used to tie off the tents in every direction. Between rope, our gear, and large rocks placed in each tent, we managed to keep them in place. Still, large gusts of wind (some approaching minimal hurricane force) would come out of nowhere and nearly flatten them.
With dove into our tents, cleaned up, and crawled into our sleeping bags. We were in pretty good condition but the nap on the cold ground and winds had sapped body heat and we were looking forward to warming up inside our tents. Our initial plan had been to setup camp, eat and relax, and then sprint for the summit but the increasing winds and diving temperatures forced us to push our summit plans back a few hours. We decided to crash out, get up well before dawn (when winds are typically lightest), and head for the summit without the 50 pound packs.
Freaky, Hellish Wind
We spent the next couple of hours eating and getting our gear sorted out. Occasionally we’d have to push back against the tent walls as huge gusts push them in. I’ve ridden out several hurricanes and tropical storms but this wind was just different. It wasn’t uniform. You could hear several different gusts moving around you. They often moved in slightly different directions and each had a unique sound. Some whistled, some swirled, some sounded like jet engines at full roar and it went on for hour after hour. We each fell asleep long before it died down. The tents would hold but one of my metal tent poles would actually be bent by the wind before things calmed down.
Summit Push
I’d told Jermaine that we’d get up at 4 AM for the summit push but woke up sometime in the night and decided to move the time up an hour and set my cell phone’s alarm for 3 AM. When it went off I hit the headlamp, reached for the phone, and accidentally took this photo.
A minute or two later I called out to Jermaine to wake him up and we started reviewing our plan for the morning without leaving our respective tents. I had to take a large Canon 40D to the summit so I needed a pack. I didn’t have an extra day pack with me so I stripped my large pack of everything but the hydration bag, stuck the camera in it, and got ready move out. Jermaine also carried a liter of water.
We were off quickly, making our way down the slope back to the main trail, and up towards the final sets of switchbacks that curl around the mountain and up to the summit. It was bitterly cold, we were told later that rangers estimated it at 23 degrees fahrenheit before wind chill, but it didn’t effect us much while we were moving uphill. Moving in the dark, with only headlamps to light the way, was eerie. Sections of the remaining trail are quite exposed and it was not uncommon to turn to look left, right, or down and see nothing but utter darkness. The headlamps beam, with over a hundred foot range, found nothing to land on and just disappeared into nothingness. It was like hiking on a thin white line in space at times. The “don’t fall here” jokes came out again.
We moved across a small wooden bridge suspended over a gap in the cliff’s edge and across into another alpine forest. This one was sparser than the earlier, lower, forest and contained long switchbacks that climbed up to a rockier area. We were climbing above 8,000 feet at this point and would soon turn a corner where we’d see the silhouette of El Capitan in the darkness and what we could only assume to be the summit a few hundred feet above us to the right.
The switchbacks grew shorter and steeper as they curved up the peak. It became difficult to make out the path at some points and making our way over some of the large rocks on the way required careful movement. Frankly, by this point it seemed like the switchbacks were just going to continue forever even though it was apparent that there wasn’t much ground left to climb. We took our last short break at about 8,500 feet, turned off our headlamps, and stared out into the darkness that surrounded us. The sky above was filled with millions of stars and on the desert floor below we could see the occasional truck pass. From our vantage point they looked like tiny, slow moving, points of light. On the horizon, over a hundred miles away, we could see the lights of El Paso. It was a view worth suffering for.
We moved on again, hopeful that we were quite close, and we were. Just a few minutes later I’d turn to my right and catch the summit marker in my headlamp’s beam just 30 feet above. I yelled “We’re there!” and scrambled, as quickly as possible, the remaining distance to the marker. Jermaine joined me a minute later and we shook hands – relieved.
We immediately started taking a few photos and pushed out a summit announcement via Twitter. We also made quick calls to our families. However, we’d stopped moving and the cold really started to set in. First our hands, then feet, began to suffer. We weren’t in danger but we were incredibly uncomfortable. We’d each take couple of photos and then have to stop, push our gloved hands back into our coats, and warm them up before attempting repeating the painful process again. Luckily, sunrise (and warmth) was only a few minutes away and we elected to stay on the summit to take more photos.
The rising sun revealed El Capitan and features in the desert that had remained hidden during our climb. The hour we spent on the summit started to pass quickly as the temperatures rose.
We shot a few more photos and then Jermaine pulled out the summit register contained in the old ammo box wedged under the summit marker. We read through it briefly and found entries ranging from inspirational to the comical.
We each signed the register and prepared to make our way down the mountain. Along the way, the temperature would rise quickly. We’d have to remove all the cold weather gear before even making it back to our tents.
This is one of our favorite Rainier videos on YouTube. It isn’t long or flashy but it does really capture the beauty of the place.
Team NSC definitely has its sights on Rainier. We’re planning our schedule through 2010 now and Rainier is probably going to be scheduled for the second quarter of 2009. Contact us if you are interested in going along and would like to be kept in the loop as plans progress.
“Of all the fire mountains which like beacons, once blazed along the Pacific Coast, Mount Rainier is the noblest.” – John Muir
Guadalupe Peak is Texas’ highpoint and a natural choice for us as we put our initial training to the test and prepare for higher, more difficult, peaks.
On a clear day, the view from the “Top of Texas” (8,749 feet, or 2,667 meters) is outstanding. The trail is very steep, but is well established. Some areas are exposed to cliff edges. It is rated strenuous, with 3,000 feet of elevation gain. The round trip distance is 8.4 miles, and generally takes 6-8 hours. Avoid the peak hike during high winds and thunderstorms.
The hike up is relatively safe but reaching the summit of Guadalupe Peak does present some risk:
The Guadalupe Mountain area is one of the windiest places in the nation. Winds in excess of 100 mph have been recorded and high winds are common year round. Bring your Wal-Mart tent at your own risk.
Mountain Lions and rattlesnakes are located in this area. Read all the precautions and warnings at the ranger station. Despite their presence, I haven’t seen any snakes (although I only go in winter and they are probably hybernating) nor lions in 7 trips to the Guadalupes other than some lion tracks in the snow. Dawn is the most likely time for a lion encounter.
Snakes aren’t a concern, ditto for mountain lions really, but weather is. November is typically fairly mild in that part of Texas but it is entirely possible to catch a strong cold front that time of year. Still, life-threatening temperatures are unlikely (we will be prepared for colder than expected temps) but wind could be a problem. When isn’t weather a problem on mountains?
We plan to spend two days on the mountain, spending one night at the high camp at 7,700 feet. That will allow us to summit before dawn and capture the sunrise if weather permits. On a good day the view is incredible. Check out these amazing photos of Guadalupe Peak on Flickr for proof.
All right reserved © John W. Little
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