2009 ICC Grad Climb
Ensawkwatch Traverse (enchainment, whatever), grade 2, 5.7
(linking up North Nesawkwatch Spire, South Nesawkwatch Spire, Mt. Rexford)
Student: Cory Hughes
Instructor: Bill Booth
Date: 9/21-9/22/09
This climb has been brought to you by:
- That annoying-ass 1972 hit ” Summer Breeze” (thanks a bunch for getting that stuck in my head, Cory)
- Frank Zappa and all that he accomplished, as explained by Cory during the hike in _and_ out.
Executive Summary:
Just to keep you on the edge of your seats, allow me to create a bit of a literary ‘open-loop’.
like an amputated limb, my *former* rope waves in the wind somewhere in Canada
Oh yes…we littered our manky gear on Canada.
The Plan
Cory and Nick planned on firing off the whole enchainment in a day Friday. We’d leave Thursday night and rally all the way through Friday to hopefully get out Friday night or Saturday morning. I’d have to say this was an ambitious plan, considering we had 4 schedules to juggle and some weather to deal with Friday. It ended up falling through to a more relaxed plan when Mike ended up having to work late. Since we didn’t want to simul the whole thing with three, Nick bailed and will reschedule. Cory and I proceeded to plan on hiking in lazily Friday and climbing all day Saturday. This turned out in our favor since every mountain in the range was under thick cloud cover all Friday and clear Saturday/Sunday. I was excited about the plan because I thought it was reasonable in time and difficulty, plus Cory made good use of overlay lightning bolts for the ascent routes in their powerpoint in class. The plan was hatched and the time was right. I was on-board.
I walked downstairs late Thursday night and selected the rope I decided to use. My new-ish Mammut 9.2mm single 60m. I looked at that little sticker on the end of the rope and wondered how a 9.2 could really be a ‘single’.
Just before the Slesse (South side) parking lot, there is a fish hatchery on Chilliwack Lake Road. You walk in there and look for the guy with the mullet. And when I say “mullet”, let me not understate how glorious this plumage really was. This guy had the most badass buttrock hairstyle, yet he was the nicest guy you’d ever meet. After signing a name and address onto a checkout sheet, we had a small key attached to the butt of a pool cue.
Before we left the car, Cory made a point of scribbling “we love canada” in the dirt on his back windshield. What a goof. Minutes after our leisurely 10:00AM start out from the cars, we ran into a couple just returning from Rexford. I asked them for beta on conditions. They said it was great except for one unusual circumstance. There was a yellowjacket nest about 3 feet from the trail just up the hill. Between the two of them, they’d been stung about 8 times. How nice. Cory and I got exact beta on the location of the very pissed off little bastards and proceeded up the trail. We went into super secret stealth ninja mode, but it suddenly became too late.
Bill: “Cory do you hear that dull hum? It sounds like the drone of a swarm.”
Cory(up ahead): “…What? What do you mea…”
Bill: “RUN!!!”
We were fucked. It was too late. By the time he started running (and I mean SPRINTING), the swarm was en-route with stingers out. I ran too, but it put me directly in the war path. The final tally: 4 stings for me and one for Cory. Not bad. We sat at a creek just ahead of all of this, sweating, wheezing, filling up our water bottles, and laughing about the silly start to our adventure.
Damn yellowjackets! Quick, someone call the waaaaambulance.
This creek just after the clearcut was the last water, we were told. We tanked up and headed up along a high foggy alpine forest using a massive granite wall for a handrail. I’m talking ‘bigger than Index’ huge. We snapped a couple pics and after we were done with all the granite porn, found ourselves in a large basin of granite boulders which held up the Spires, Rexford, and the surrounding peaks. We set up shop around 5:00PM in the trees at the tip top of a ridge with a sunset view of the North side of Slesse and Baker. That view Couldn’t Be Beaten With a Stick ™.
View from camp: (left to right) North and South Nesawkwatch Spires, Rexford -wearing a hat for us
We talked a bit of trash, I learned a bit about Frank Zappa, and quizzed Cory on his timeline plans for Saturday. He did a real good job of taking many factors into consideration in order to lay out a very conservative and detailed plan for starting, tagging each peak, and descending. We leveled out on a 5:00AM start with the sunrise and a couple hours per peak. We’d be back at camp just before sunset around 8:00pm if we slowed down. We went to sleep with the sun Friday night and woke up with it Saturday morning, to a clearing sky full of fading stars.
It was 30 minutes across the basin to the base of the North spire, and we roped up at the bottom. Cory started out simul climbing. He took a meandering route across the lower 5th class terrain. Both of us were in approach shoes and I was impressed not only at my stylish new kicks, but Cory was pulling through exposed 5.7 moves with a pair of Exum Ridges. It took him a bit longer than I’d expect to simul the first long section, and I led a airy 5.6-ish pitch to the summit. We were about 40 minutes behind schedule. The sun was rising and the clouds were being held down all around us.
The beta indicated easy terrain from this summit all the way across to the 5th class pitches up the South Spire. We packed the rope up and hauled ass across the entire ridge, ending partway up (what the beta said were) the first roped pitches. Cory was quick getting across the 4th and even lower 5th terrain soloing.
Looking back across the ridge toward the North spire, Cory runs along the easier terrain. This saved us a lot of time!
The South Nesawkwatch Spire
We roped up at the base of uncertain terrain. We didn’t know where we were. Cory took off the jacket, racked up, and headed off into the sunlight around the left side of the ridge. Little did I know, he was sewing up a stunning 30-foot mini version of calculus crack in a left-facing corner. It was exposed and airy, definitely pushing his limits, and an awesome lead in approach shoes! Impressed, I grunted and pulled myself up the killer hand jams as the crack went from #1 to #3 in about 30 feet.
Bill (climbing): “Grrrr, arggggg” *wheeze*
Cory (belaying up top): “Summer breeze, makes me feel fine…”
Bill: “Gah! Shut up!”
That song was once again ringing in my ears. Cory used three well-placed pieces – Camalots 1 through 3. I rate this pitch “alpine awesome”. One more pitch of 5.7 and we were staring at this summit block with an interesting offwidth.
ah ah aaaahhh! no you don't!
We took the Mark Twight approach and figured our summit was good enough, so we continued on. We were ahead of schedule now that we knocked the South Spire out so quickly. I looked down at the little sticker on the end of the rope. It was wrinkled and slid down a bit, like it was recently caught on something. I didn’t think anything of it and jogged down the 4th class terrain to the first rap station I saw going toward Rexford.
When we walked up to the rap station, I noticed there was a section of climbing rope used alongside all the other tat. The rope was badly damaged. I didn’t think anything of it.
From the summit of the South spire, I located a rap station.
The rap station was in a pinch point between two large blocks. There was a damaged section of rope in there somewhere.
Cory started to rappel and found ANOTHER rap station about 15 feet down from this one, just out of sight.
WTF?
I asked where it was going and what it looked like. He noted it looked good and it was going right where we needed it to go. But wait, this is “an easy 30m rap” according to the beta. Why the hell would there be another station there?? By now, I was becoming suspicious.
He was down and off rappel and I started backing down the sharp low-angled granite on rappel. Indeed, the rap station was clean and had rings. It went over a mellow edge and free fell to the base – a totally cleaner rap route with way less risk.
I took one last look up at the rope going through the rings, making absolutely sure it wouldn’t take a path where it would snag when pulled. I quickly completed the rap and gingerly started pulling the rope. If any of you have climbed with me, you know I have a pretty good record when pulling ropes.
Not today, folks.
![[sadface] I prepare to cut about 18m off my nice (stuck) rope](http://lh3.ggpht.com/_0BnlIuBhjf4/SpDZnXohECI/AAAAAAAANQE/dViPCYh05Pg/s512/DSC02275.JPG)
sadface. I prepare to cut about 18m off my nice (stuck) rope
That little sticker screwed us and I’m sure of it! The rope was stuck and there was no way to climb up to retrieve it. As I hung my head in disgrace (for breaking my streak pulling ropes), I noticed a sweet core shot in the other half of the rope! WTF!?! I looked over at Cory and the realization that his grad climb was over washed over his face. I felt pretty bad for not putting the pieces together. Nobody brings damaged sections of rope up to reinforce rap stations! The shortened rope was guaranteed rap-anchor-antics if we continued up Rexford and we definitely couldn’t freeclimb with that coreshot. Luckily there was a complete downclimb descent route back to camp from here. We were extremely happy to have this option and not have to use (what was left of) my rope! Cory, being the lighthearted person he is, didn’t mind our plight since we’d already tackled all the fun parts. We sat down and ate lunch there and I cut the rope. *sniff* *sniff*
It would have been fun to climb Rexford, but it’s hard when:
A. Half your rope is missing
B. There’s a core shot somewhere in the remaining rope
An hour of kitty-litter downclimbing and we were back at camp.
We lounged around for an hour or so since it was only mid-day.
We found a granite dance floor at the bivy site. Cory proceeded to show his best Travolta impression on the way out. Keep it classy.
Goodbye you rope-eating granite-fest.
On the way down, we prepared for the yellowjackets again, but they were gone. They were probably pulling down like all the other Canadians we’d met.
Apparently, a large section of the pocket glacier slid on Slesse’s North side. I could tell. There were about 18 cars at the Slesse trailhead, where there was only a pull off big enough for about 6 cars max. Go get ‘em, boys.
