TR: Climbing Long's Peak?
JSJ
July 26th, 2003
"We need to get the hell off this thing." I'm not sure who said it
but we were both thinking it. Moments earlier the first gust of wind
had slammed into the Diamond, marking the arrival of the storm. The
party on Black Dagger had begun frantically French-freeing, while the
party that had topped out on the Casual Route was zipping down the D-7
raps. We were still one pitch away from Table Ledge and the start of
those same raps.
The day had started off well: We began hiking at 3 AM, were racking
up at the base of Mill's Glacier by dusk, and were climbing shortly
thereafter. Our plan was to link up Kor's Door (II 5.9) and
Pervertical Sanctuary (IV 5.11a) for a Grade V day. David had never
been on the Diamond before, but after our success two weekends ago on
Spearhead and Chiefshead we felt confident. But now, sitting on top
of the Obelisk Pillar with one pitch to go and the storm approaching
very fast, we were just scared. I handed David a handful of wires –
what was left of the rack after the last pitch – and he took off like
a madman on the final stretch of 5.9 to Table Ledge. Moments later
the rope came tight and, assuming belay was on, I started running up
the last pitch. I topped out completely out of breath and with hardly
a glance at David I just ran past the belay to the rap anchors. I
brought David over and while he was tying the ropes together I fed the
ends over the edge into the abyss. Thunder was crashing all around us
and the sky turned very dark.
Halfway down the rappel the skies finally opened up and the hail came
down. Within five minutes I learned exactly how "water resistant"
Schoeller DrySkin isn't. Everything – gear, shoes, rock, and skin –
was drenched in freezing water and ice.
Clutching desperately at the 8mm doubles, I worked the tangles out on
my way down and squinted through the downpour for the next set of
anchors. I eventually spotted the bolts 20' below and I continued a
little more quickly now that I had them in sight; but unfortunately, a
mere 5 feet from them, I pulled a knot up into the ATC. The tangles
in the lines that had been dropping down below me finally seized up
and would not loose, despite pleading cries of "Come on! Come on,
stupid knot!" I never before felt so helpless as I did then, trying
to set up a Prussik with numb fingers, the wind, hail, and thunder
deafening, my partner out of sight and earshot above me, the ground
1500' below. I was finally able to pull the knot loose enough to make
it to the anchors, clip in, and get off that dental floss. David
practically pulled my belay device out of my hand as he put himself on
rappel, and, moments later, arrived at the belay shaking violently.
"Josh, I have to warn you that I may go hypothermic." David said this
with the authority of someone who could only have experienced it
before. "OK," I said, "What do I need to know?" "For now, just keep
rapping first and give me a fireman's belay." "OK." I made David
pull the ropes to try to generate some heat.
The next few raps continued like this. I never set up an autoblock on
the raps and as I remember this I feel sick with my stupidity – how
easily I could have slipped. Never again. On the last rappel to
Broadway I kept myself on while I traversed about 50 feet up a narrow,
loose, slush covered sidewalk to retrieve the approach shoes we had
stashed there earlier. My legs were shaking wildly and on the way
back I lost control and slipped, penduluming across the face,
squeezing the ropes with all my strength hoping I wouldn't hit the
wall so hard that I'd let go. I didn't, but it was very, very scary.
I finished the rap to Broadway proper, and while David came down I
worked to free up the ends of the ropes that had wrapped around a few
blocks – one of these came loose, and tumbling down, landed on one of
our ropes, cutting right through the sheath. The only reprieve from
the nightmare was that, as David joined me on Broadway, the hail had
stopped.
We traversed over to the Crack of Delight raps and then the hail
started up again. David looked upwards and cursed loudly – I almost
laughed aloud despite our situation as I remembered the scene in
Forrest Gump where Lieutenant Dan definitely challenged the raging
storm from the mast of the "Jenny." We threw the ropes for the last
four rappels to Mill's Glacier.
Up until now we hadn't seen any of the other parties who had been on
the wall with us earlier. Apparently the Black Dagger party headed on
to the summit instead of doing the rappels, and the other two parties
had took the raps to Broadway just ahead of us, but, not knowing about
the Crack of Fear* raps, these parties elected to descend the North
Chimney. I could now see one climber way below me. He was standing
on a narrow rib of rock just left of the chimney, about 100 feet above
the glacier. Just then a thunderous roar and the shouts of "rock!"
drew my gaze to the upper reaches of the North Chimney. A
split-second later a barrage of stone launched out of the chimney; the
climber on the fin of rock looked up just in time to dodge the first
few rocks, including a 250' boulder that soared by his head. It was
one of the most sickening and terrifying things I'd ever seen: Rocks
flying through the air while the climber swayed back and forth trying
to dodge them and keep his balance at the same time. And then it
happened: One of the last of the rocks struck him in squarely in the
face and he doubled over on his tiny perch – only by a miracle not
tumbling down the chimney to his death. I cupped my hand over my
mouth in horror. His partner began screaming, "Are you OK? Are you
OK?" For a moment he was motionless and then he looked up and moved a
bit. Eventually he yelled, "No! I'm not OK!" I stood motionless for
the first time since the storm hit. But then he got himself to his
feet, and, knowing he'd be alright, I threw the ropes for the next
rappel. It turns out that the rock had broken his teeth, but that he
was going to survive. Nevertheless, many people were very lucky that
day.
And then, it happened again! Another roar – this time an avalanche
down the Lamb's Slide. I watched a 2000 lb boulder tumble down the
couloir, coming to rest a mere 25 feet from our packs! It was
incredible. "When is this going to end," I wondered aloud.
Fortunately, the hail began to trail off to freezing rain, and we were
able to finish the rappels, kiss the ground, and hurry over to our
packs.
I hadn't stopped moving hard since leading the wide crack pitch to the
top of the Obelisk, and finally the effort, exhaustion, fear, and cold
caught up with me and I found myself altitude sick for the second time
in two weeks. It was slow going for me on the hike out and I didn't
stop shivering until well below tree line. Finally, at the car, my
stomach was settled enough that I could drink water – I was
desperately dehydrated. I have no memory of the car ride home.
Today my wet gear still sits piled in the garage. I haven't inspected
the ropes yet and I'm afraid of what I'll find. I curse the Diamond,
and I wonder seriously if alpine climbing may just not be my thing.
*This is actually an adaptation of an email I sent to Charles Vernon
describing the climb. In that email I wrote "Crack of Fear" raps – a
Freudian slip referring to a hideous off-width climb in Lumpy Ridge.
On Charles' recommendation, I decided to keep the slip in the TR.
Somehow it fits.
Chiloe
> The Perverted Diamond (Kor's Door & Pervetical Sanctuary):
> July 26th, 2003
>
> "We need to get the hell off this thing." I'm not sure who said it
> but we were both thinking it. Moments earlier the first gust of wind
> had slammed into the Diamond, marking the arrival of the storm. The
> party on Black Dagger had begun frantically French-freeing, while the
> party that had topped out on the Casual Route was zipping down the D-7
> raps. We were still one pitch away from Table Ledge and the start of
> those same raps.
Wow. Heluva story, glad you came back to tell it.
Guido
> The Perverted Diamond (Kor's Door & Pervetical Sanctuary):
> July 26th, 2003
>
> "We need to get the hell off this thing." I'm not sure who said it
<snip of superb drama>
> Today my wet gear still sits piled in the garage. I haven't inspected
> the ropes yet and I'm afraid of what I'll find. I curse the Diamond,
> and I wonder seriously if alpine climbing may just not be my thing....
'Just awesome writing, best of best grade. Greatest hits of 2003. "Great
escapes" of 2003, as well. Bravo!
Tis amazing what power reflection wields.
G
"Oh, if we had foresight of days to come, how many men might choose to not
continue?"
--- My father in melancholic reflection of
WWII.
John Smith
made it down, alive if not necessarily ok.
Fritz M
I thought it was unpleasant getting pelted by the hail last Saturday at
Longs, but you guys had it much worse.
RFM
--
To reply, translate domain from l33+ 2p33|< to alpha.
4=a 0=o 3=e +=t
Mr.T
tale.
This one got me to thinking about the Epics IV issue of Climbing I
just got. The first issue seemed so good, the best rag-read I had
enjoyed in a long while.
But the 3 sequels haven't been very good. What gives? Your story was
as well written and interesting as the stuff in the newest issue. OK,
maybe a thing or two more needed to go wrong to become a mini-epic.
But still, it seems there should be no shortage of great little epic
stories to tell, and yet...