Last Ascent

It is indeed the slow season in guiding. We call it "Roctober" (although it sometimes starts in September). Great time to go rock climbing, and there's no work, so there's plenty of time!

Before the snow flew, Dave Miller (owner of California Alpine Guides) and I made it out to Norman Clyde peak in the Palisades (Big Pine creek drainage, out of Big Pine, CA). It was likely one of the last ascents (the first was taken almost a century ago anyway) of the season, marked by a certain crispness in the air and frozen fingers and toes. I think I even pulled a heel-hook on a chunk of frozen snow...

It was my first trip into the Palisades, a crest notorious for poor rock quality and a genuine alpine "feel." The itinerary: hike in to Brainard Lake in the evening, get up early the next day, climb the peak and hike out the next evening. The time plan: Start hiking at 7pm, 1.5 hours to the base of the route, 4 hours to climb the route, 1 hour back to camp, and another 2 hours to get out. So we should be back at the car by 4pm.

The reality: with an unexpected 2 pitches of technical climbing and some extensive scrambling, we took almost 3 hours to get to the base of the route. However, we gained some time on our climbing timeplan, and still made it to the summit on schedule: just before 1pm. Stoked and a little bit frozen, we emerged in the sunlight at the summit pinnacle, only to be smacked by winds whipping over from the other side of the mountain -- from which we had been fortunately sheltered most of the day! Record speed register signing and snacking (this sandwich tastes so much better up here!), and we were on our way down.

The descent route was the original route of ascent by Norman Clyde in August of 1931. A mixture of 4th class downclimbing and exposed 3rd class traversing far more extensive than we had expected put us well beyond our estimated timeplan for the downclimb (turn of the century climbers were seriously amazing alpinists!), making our day an all-too-common lesson in the usefulness of guidebooks (often not very!), and the ever-unexpecteds of climbing in an alpine environment. While beta (other climber's descriptions of a route), photos, and written route descriptions can be very useful tools, they can never replace a climber's own experience, vision, and skill in the mountains.

In the wise words of Annie Dillard, "One more reason to keep my eyes open."

Upon return to camp, feeling the length of the day and the exhilaration that exposure in the mountains gives you, Dave and I decided to stay put and enjoy the view from camp one more night. With no pressing plans and decent weather, it would seem a logical, almost luxurious decision.

And then the promised winds finally came in, and we spent the whole night with the tent flattening on our faces.

Luxurious, indeed.