Past Featured Trip Reports

Exagerated naming of peaks is rampent the world around. Is the "Jagged Point" in your home range really that jagged? Does the "Petit Grepon" really look anything like Le Grepon? How often are the Smoky Mountains smoky? But tucked in the French Alps near the town of Chamonix the term "aiguille" (needle) is applied to almost every peak around and justifably so. Like a scaled-up version of Brice Canyon, countless granite spikes defy gravity, culminating in sharp tiny points some barely big enough to stand on. "Les Aiguilles de Chamonix" earn their name, and beg to be climbed.

Friday night was the day I wanted to head out for camp; but since my Dad had to buy new hiking boots, this was not the case. Me being the ambitous one, wanted to climb the Needle and Humboldt on the saturday, then climb Crestone Peak on sunday and leave that same day. At any rate we awoke at ~4:30 a.m. on saturday and began the long drive. On numerous occasions the climb was almost scratched... lets just say that I almost hit a car on a left turn and almost hist a skateboarder on another left turn. When we finally reached the beginning of the 4*4 road, I hopped out and my dad hopped in.

This year due to my studies our Maltatal ice climbing trip was posponed till the 10th of February with a planned return on the 19th. We started out in a snow storm late in the evening. A week prior to our departure the weather was just perfect, freezing like hell and sunny. Now we were trying to stay on the road even on the Austrian highway, which was slowly but surely becoming lost under the tons of snow coming down from the heavens.

For the long July 4th weekend, Haydar and I decided to take a road trip out to the Sawtooths – a place neither of us had been before. We were enticed by the promise of beautiful solid granite, classic climbs, and few people. Armed with some awesome beta from Radek (rpc), we eventually settled on a plan: we’d hike in from Redfish Lake to Warbonnet Peak, climb the South Face on Warbonnet, then backtrack to the Saddleback Lakes area and climb the Mountaineers Route on Elephants Perch – one of the 50 classic climbs in North America. I naively thought maybe we could fit a third climb into this four day weekend – what was I thinking?

Our plan was to hit something in the Sierras over the long Independence Day weekend relying on historical data that said: North Cascades weather during this time is shit. But forecast surprised us and on Wednesday night we were repacking our junk with the intention of hitting one of our goals for the season: Inspiration Peak via East Ridge route. Good approach beta from Martin was obtained, TR's on West Mac were printed (thanks Tazz!) and we was ready. This worked out well as Shirley couldn’t really take the extra day off meant for the Sierras (work bullshit).

On my way back from Yosemite, I decided I’d take a shot at climbing the striking mountain that’s on the cover of my guide to climbing in the high Sierra – Bear Creek Spire. To this end I headed south from the park towards the booming metropolis of Tom’s Place, gateway to the peak. I found a nice spot and crashed in the bed of my truck while mosquitos whined hungrily outside. I was up and on the trail for my usual alpine start – around seven in the morning or so. It wasn’t terribly cold out; I only needed the fleece for an hour or so. And the mosquitos seemed to have slept in too. A few landed on me, but they seemed terribly sluggish and uncertain about where to bite, thus giving me the time to smack them to pieces before they drew blood. I apologized to the first few for destroying them and then gave it up.

In June I was pretty busy showing parents around the nearby mountains, going to the various salt mines and "Sound of Music" tours that us Americans just have to do. But the visit to Berchtesgaden was especially frustrating for the mountaineer in me. Sitting on a patio above the Koeningsee, looking across at the Watzmann, I longed to burst away and race up as fast as possible (in my case, not very fast). Had anyone given the slightest signal of wanting a nap, or a lazy day reading books I would have pounced at the chance to visit the high rocks! Alas - we all had too good a time to allow such things, so it was with deep "mountaineer frustration" that I planned a day trip to the Wilder Kaiser with Josef. The Predigtstuhl (or, Preacher's Pulpit) had a long (16 pitches), relatively easy (IV+) North Ridge that seemed like a perfect intro. Plus, a small but delightfully exposed ridge climb was next door on the Hintere Goinger Halt (III+). As a reward for being efficient, we could climb that too!

Ever since I first visited Yankee Boy Basin to climb Sneffels with my wife in 6/05, I have been entranced by impressive Teakettle Mountain. I look at it each day at work as it is my desktop background. Enlarge Teakettle from Lavender Col on Sneffels during an early June '05 climb. The tiny summit of Teakettle is considered to be one of the most spectacular in Colorado. The enchanting place is surrounded on all sides by cliffs and loose, unstable rock. From below it appears to be a scary climb, but as long as you stay on route the climb to the summit block can be kept at a steep class 3. When Layne Bracy invited me to climb this with him and his experienced brother, I couldn't wait! Layne's brother Andrew is not a peak bagger, but agreed to lead us up the short 5.3 summit block. He didn't know what he signed up for!

Now that the Tigiwon Road is open for the season Tracy and I decided that an ascent of the Cross Couloir on Holy Cross was in order. Our plan was to head down on Saturday and camp at Halfmoon Pass, get up and leave camp at 3 and be at the base of the couloir by sunrise. This didn‘t happen. Based on reports from someone at the trailhead, we had heard that the base of the Cross was melting out, and we started to form a back up plan. Originally we thought we would check out the cross and if it was bad we would continue on to Teardrop. When waking up at 3 proved difficult, we reset the alarm for 4 and decided maybe we would try Angelica instead.

In the summer of 2004 we were again in the Dolomites, but for the first time the weather was mostly bad and had only permitted us to do some easier tours with a good prospect of being completely soaked. This gave us more time to study the Klettersteigführer, and we found out that the crux of the Mèsola ferrata is a 35 m high vertical slab with few grips along which the ferrata cable hangs loose with no anchorings. Especially the latter deprived us of any real wish to try that route, for what is the advantage of a ferrata if you risk a free fall of 35 meters?