Ice Climbing - February 16, 2002
After getting "ousted" by poor avalanche conditions last year, Dave and I finally decided that conditions would be good enough to make a second attempt at climbing some virgin ice.We got a 7:30am trailhead start by snowmobile, and Dave brought his bow saw, ready to do combat with any downed trees. Luckily, the main downed tree from a scouting mission a few weeks previous, had already had some work done, and there was a tunnel through it just big enough for a snowmobile.
Along the way, there were a few delays: the snowmobile engine overheated twice (there wasn't enough loose snow to cool the engine sufficiently), and the PVC harness used to tow our gear broke. We rigged a superior system with bungee cords however, and continued on, reaching our destination fresh and ready to go.
Me on the approach photo by Dave Burdick
We passed what looked like a snowboarder track. That's impossible. Then we saw that it turned into little footprints for a while, then continued as a snowboarder track. I recalled a day from my childhood when we were hiking around our cottage in the winter, and we saw these slide tracks all through the woods, and later learned it was from otters. So I guess this was an ice climbin' otter!
At a certain point, we branched off from our previous ascent route, and began skinning up through some tight shrubby trees. The snow was a bit slick (a slushy covering on a hard base), making the going difficult. Eventually the terrain mellowed out, but the snow underfoot had grown deeper and mushier, and was accumulating with alarming rate on our skis! Dave's already heavy skis were now even heavier, probably 10 pounds per foot!
Dave contends with sticky Cascade snow.
We had a snack and headed on over. On the way, we saw another sliding track. This time, it had plunged through some ice into water. This otter gets around!
We ascended towards the most impressive of the flows, expecting it to look less and less steep the closer we got. But it did not; it looked fairly relentless, with very few easy sections, and a long vertical section in the middle.
Hmm, no I don't think we'll climb this one today.
After some discussion, and realization that we probably couldn't complete the climb in front of us, we headed further right, towards a broad flow that looked to be one of the "easiest" lines around.
Yes, this looks a little better.
The ice certainly wasn't very steep, but I had "first of the season" jitters, and I used a "healthy" number of ice screws. The ice was ok for climbing, but screws seemed to go in just a wee bit too easily. Partway up, the ice quality started to become very poor, slowing me down. In one spot I punched through into empty space. After half a rope length, I reached the only decent nearby spot for a belay, and managed to put in a pair of good screws. With good ice, the pitch would have been only WI2/3, and a total cruise. But the ice quality definitely added some challenge.
Me leading the first section photo by Dave Burdick
Dave led off to the left up a narrow ramp. It was at about this time the first spindrift started to come down. First it was on neighbouring climbs. Then it started coming down just a few feet off to my right. Was it warming up? Luckily, I seemed to be protected by a rock cliff right above me.
We climbed on the broad right-hand flow
But then they got bigger and bigger. Then, a breadbox-sized boulder of snow shot out 20 feet in the air from above, followed by a fairly large wall of powder which covered the climb, over where Dave was. After it passed, I called out his name. No answer. I figured he was ok, since the snow had looked sort of powdery (other than the boulder), and he was probably just concentrating on the climbing. After another few minutes, I called again. Still no answer. The rope had not moved in several minutes. Uh oh. I began shouting louder and louder. Finally, I heard him pipe up: he was alright.
Bonus picture of shnasty-looking terrain seen on the approach
At some point, I grabbed some of the snow in front of me, and made a snowball. Hmm... wasn't it powdery just a while ago? Now it was slush. That would explain all the sloughs coming down. The icicles right above me seemed to be dripping more now.
I told Dave he was running out of rope. After an agonizingly long period of time, and with just a few feet of rope left, I heard him shout "off belay!". It had taken him about an hour to lead the pitch, and my legs had gotten pretty sore standing at an uncomfortable belay.
I followed up, intending to move as quickly as possible on a long traverse across where most of the sloughs were coming down.
The first 20 or 30 feet were on solid fun ice, up a narrow tilted ramp. Then the ice became rotten and snow-covered. I saw the holes Dave had made on this traverse. Footprints? No, they were from hands - the ice immediately above the traverse had air underneath it, and was useless for ice tools, so you had to balance on your feet, and plunge your ice tool shafts into slushy crap, hoping that your feet wouldn't blow out!
Me seconding the second pitch. Our skis are visible below. We started the climb off to the left of the picture. photo by Dave Burdick
I now saw Dave above. The remainder of the pitch involved vertical sections of decent ice, alternating with very sketchy rotten sections. After struggling up a dead vertical section, I reached Dave, and congratulated him on his bold lead. He seemed a bit phased, and replied: "I didn't lead that... alter-Dave did!"
I had managed to squeeze through during a break in the sloughs, but they had started again, with growing intensity. Another large snow boulder shot out from above us, followed by a big slough. Despite the fact that there was about 50 feet of good-looking ice left to the top, we had to get down NOW!
Dave making a V-thread
Dave went down first, and after a few minutes, announced with great joy that the rope just reached the bottom - we wouldn't need to make a second rappel! He retrieved my pack from the base of the climb while I came down, and we both continued downslope a few hundred feet to get out of the way of any further avalanches. Then it started raining.
I had taken us three and a half hours to climb and descend one and a half pitches, and we'd gotten our asses kicked. But most importantly, we'd gotten down safe and sound.
Me trying to manage junky snow with a heavy pack. photo by Dave Burdick