Wind Rivers (Part II)

While we were retreating from the pinnacle we were directly across from the biggest wall on the west face of Fremont. 

There were two previous routes on this wall. One follows the arete on the southern edge of the wall, the other follows a major dihedral system up the center. As we descended I noticed an intriguing system of ramps and cracks in between the two routes. It looked climbable but it was positioned such that it didn't see sun until 3 pm. I told Mark it would be like climbing on the dark side of the moon. We seriously doubted we could stay warm enough to climb it.

When we awoke early on day 2 we noticed the wind had stopped. It was all the encouragement we needed. 

Breakfast in the Dark

Mark Jenkins Photo.

The Approach

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Roping Up

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Climbing

Mark Jenkins Photo.

The first few pitches were easy and went quickly. It was nice to cover ground and establish ourselves on the wall.

Early Morning Psyche

Mark Jenkins Photo

Soon the Climbing Increased in Difficulty and our Upward Momentum Stalled

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Even Without the Wind we Froze. Trying to Warm the Fingers.

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Belay

Mark Jenkins Photo.

After 5 pitches of engaging climbing we found ourselves at a base of a large dihedral. The climbing above looked challenging and difficult to protect. We debated our options. A few challenging leads could take hours - too long if we hoped to finish the wall in one day. We needed a faster, easier option. We traversed right and hoped for the best.

The Traverse

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Mark Jenkins Photo.

The traverse took some imagination and work to protect but Mark lead with confidence and skill. It was just as exciting to follow.

Our gamble paid off - we found ourselves at the base of a beautiful ramp/dihedral system on a massive ledge. We ate lunch and soaked in the scenery.

Lunch

Mark Jenkins Photo.

First pitch of the Ramp/Dihedral System
Mark Jenkins Photo.

Mark Belaying

The ramp/dihedral system was incredible climbing. Featured granite, good protection, and a commanding position over an ocean of vertical space. The wall steepened as we climbed higher and the exposure was intimidating as we hung from belays over 1,000 feet off the ground.

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Mark Jenkins Photo.

After 3 pitches of 5.8-5.9+ climbing we were at the top of the ramp/dihedral system, the sun was finally upon us, and it was late in the afternoon. Climbing straight above looked difficult to protect and we weren't sure it would go. We had no choice but to follow the crack system. Mark lead a challenging 5.10 traverse pitch where the entire wall spilled beneath your feet. Even for a seasoned climber it was hard to fight back the vertigo.

Mark Leading the Traverse

The crack ended just before reaching the dihedral system to our left. We climbed to its end and then lowered about 20 feet into the next large dihedral system. We were far past the point of retreat, all our cards were on the table. We climbed out and up - hoping the find the final piece that would solve the puzzle.

The View Below

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Our intuition paid off. We reached a beautiful crack system that offered easy, fun climbing. The fatigue of climbing all day was setting in but we made quick work of the final pitches.

Mark Nearing the Top

On Top

Happy to Be Starting the Descent in the Daylight

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Descending

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Fremont peak consists of big walls and lots of scree. You can hike to the summit. We were happy to be able to walk back to camp without any rappels.

Celebrating Sucess

Mark Jenkins Photo.

In my mind there is nothing better than a dip in a ice cold alpine lake after climbing all day. Even though we froze all day I couldn't resist the temptation.

We made it back to camp just before dark. Happy to have accomplished this . . . 

Dark Side of the Moon. IV 5.10. 12 Pitches

Wind Rivers (Part I)

In September I joined Mark Jenkins for a trip into the Wind River Range in western Wyoming. Over the last couple of years we’ve established a small number of new alpine rock climbs in the Winds. This trip was a concerted effort to add a few more.

Mark Jenkins

Mark is an iconic Wyoming climber. He’s exuberant, dedicated, and tough. He’s made his living as a writer and has seen more of the world than anyone I know. While hiking into the mountains with him you’re just as likely to hear stories about dodging police in the jungles of Burma or trying to find poachers in the Congo as you are climbing tales.  He currently writes for National Geographic and when he’s not writing, on assignment, or with his family he likes to climb new routes, especially in the mountains of Wyoming.

Climbing a new route in the mountains is pure, unadulterated adventure. The concept is simple but the subtleties are complex. After choosing a large alpine wall one must glass the rock with binoculars, looking for cracks and weaknesses that are climbable. Some degree of difficulty is desired, but humility must play a part as well – one blank section on the route can mean failure and retreat. Beauty is desired, both in the overall objective and in the climbing itself.

Scoping a new line

Once an inspiring line has been chosen the time comes to see if the idea will become a reality. With confidence and a small backpack you leave camp before the sun rises. And then you start climbing. You climb all day, with everything you need to survive in the vertical world on your back. Nothing is more important than movement, decisions need to be made carefully and quickly. Without a topo or notes from someone who has been there before, you spend your time lost in a giant puzzle that requires all your strength, stamina, and experience to crack.

Mark on the first ascent of Alexander's Band. IV 5.10.

At some point you’ve climbed high enough and become committed to reaching the top. At this point the overwhelming nature of your surroundings finally sinks in. You feel small, insignificant, and extremely vulnerable. With intuition and experience as your guide, you throw all your cards on the table. Immersed completely, belief in the objective and your partner become absolute. It is without doubt the most rewarding climbing I’ve ever done.

Mark committing to the objective.

Mark has been climbing new routes around the world for decades. It’s not the most glamorous climbing and often it is dirty, loose, and scary. But climbing with Mark has opened my eyes to entire new world of adventure.

Mark reaching the top of You Gotta Want It. IV 5.11a.

A couple of years ago we took things a little too far on a new route. We reached the summit late in the day and night caught us when we were still high on the wall. Our descent slowed to a snails pace as we rappelled in the dark. We lost most of the rack and were forced to use some less than ideal rappel anchors. We became totally committed to our line of descent when we rappelled over sections we could not climb back up. It took us all night to get off the climb, and it was a lesson we won’t forget. Climbing in the mountains keeps you honest. 

Yours truly getting ready to drop into the abyss.
Mark Jenkins Photo.

This year we hiked into Titcomb basin which is the heart of the Winds. Our base camp was a 17 mile hike from the car so we hired a horse to help us carry our stuff in. The horse dropped everything at mile 15 so we had to carry some obnoxious packs the last two miles.

Beer and ropes inside the pack. Everything else strapped on. 

Mark Jenkins Photo.

The West Face of Fremont Peak is a maze of pinnacles, gullies, and huge walls. It is a veritable ocean of vertical granite. We made base camp just below. 

 West Face of Fremont Peak. 

Mark Jenkins Photo.

We were up before dawn on the first day and we headed straight for a steep rock pinnacle in the middle of the face. We made quick work of a moderate wall below. The climbing was easy but there was a cold wind and we were in the shade all morning. The cold slowed us down and sapped our strength. I had an unsettled feeling in my stomach all morning. I chalked it up to the cold but something didn't feel right.

Cold granite for breakfast.

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Climbing in the Shade

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Just before midday we reached the base of the pinnacle and we found an impenetrable mass of steep granite. As hard as we looked we could not find a route that looked climbable. With the sun finally upon us we warmed our frozen fingers and headed for the only option we could find - the southern ridge line of the pinnacle.

The Pinnacle. Stumped.

Mark Jenkins Photo.

I lead a traverse pitch onto the ridge line but ended up in a gully below instead. Our options were quickly diminishing as we wasted valuable time trying to find a climbable way up. 

Mark Traversing into the Gully.

Mark continued up the gully while I belayed below. He was just finishing his lead when I head him scream frantically. He'd just dislodged a rock and from the panic in his voice I knew it was big. I squeezed up against the left side of the gully and watched as a rock the size of a flat screen TV came hurtling towards me. I was two feet from being smashed into oblivion and afterwards my whole body was shaking with adrenaline and fear. Mark belayed me up and we rested for a moment, thankful to be in one piece.

We were stymied. Our objective was too ambitious, it wasn't within our abilities. We had to descend. We set up a rappel and I headed down. Twenty feet below the anchor I found this . . .

Mark Jenkins Photo.

The rock had hit one of our ropes - shredding it. We cut it, and continued down. Humbled and thankful.

Retreat

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Climbing requires resourcefulness. Using the bad part of the rope to descend.

Mark Jenkins Photo.

Sometimes defeat teaches you more than success. We spent the rest of the evening scouting, trying to find an objective more closely matched to our abilities and ambitions. The ultimate goal in climbing is to live to tell the tale. We were reminded of this fact as we crawled into our sleeping bags for the night.