Subject: TR: Another One Date: Tue, 25 Aug 1998 15:15:50 GMT From: Tom Stybr Organization: I speak for noone else Newsgroups: rec.backcountry
Northeast Ridge Grade II, Class 2+ 2.0 miles; 1,800 ft. elevation gain August 3, 1998
I've made one choice, now it's time for another and I better make it quickly. I was digging hard with the pick of my ice axe but I wasn't slowing down as much as desired. One thing about self-arrest - it's hard to see where you're going when your face is just a few inches from the snow. I decided to revert back to my baseball slide posture, removing pressure from the pick in the process, so I could look over my shoulder and see which part of the outcropping I would have to fend off. There! THUMP! . . . .
"That's a heck of a lot of snow for August." I thought, gazing across the lower basin to the slope that led to the north ridges of Castle Peak. Then again I had never been to Montezuma Basin before. At 0645, traversing the eastern edge of the lower basin to the snow slope, the snow was hard and icy. Crampons would have been nice but there were plenty of footprints to follow. Once on the slope itself, climbing it was a bit like climbing an irregular staircase though that staircase was made of ice. Only occasionally did a moderate kick move the crust and improve my footing. Steepness was just enough that I was glad I had an axe in hand.
The slope leads to upper Montezuma Basin and Castle Peak's ramparts, the studded northeast ridge and the smoother northwest ridge. Snow reached nearly to the saddle between Castle and Conundrum Peaks on the northwest ridge while the slope to the northeast ridge was completely clear of snow. A lone figure was well on its way to the northeast ridge when I reached the upper basin and it did not acknowledge my presence; that was its prerogative. I may as well have been completely alone. The talusy but well-established trail darted up the slope to the left immediately after the entrance to upper Montezuma Basin.
The axe had served its purpose and was ready to take the ride strapped to my pack. The sun was warming things up a bit though clouds were welling over the peak and ridges, tumbling into the basin. Following the trail as it switches back frequently and steeply up the slope I found I was measuring my steps to have the downhill foot planted in the right spot so as to begin the change of direction with the other. The switches are replaced by a long traverse that takes dead aim at a notch in the northeast ridge on inconsistent footing. It is not immediately clear viewed from afar where the route goes once it reaches the ridgeline.
An eye-opening view greeted my arrival at the notch. Exposure is only a step away and the Pearl Pass road wanders up across the opposite side of the tiered slopes before me. Not really needing a rest, I stopped anyway to watch sun and cloud dance a wispy jig. I decided I was a bit hungry, making the stop logistically worthwhile as well. I ate facing the Conundrum twin summits and noticed the deeply cleft couloir splitting its face cleanly. Snow filled it deeply until shadows hid its top third, leaving me to guess how full it really was. It necked about halfway from the top to the ridge below but seemed rather smoothsided otherwise. I turned my attention back to the ridge.
The easiest route was essentially class 2 requiring only a supporting hand when the exposure dictated. However, by sticking close to the ridge top proper it became 2+ on good rock with perhaps a few class 3 moves here or there. This strategy removed much of the exposure. With no major obstacles, time slowed to the summit and by 0815, I was there. Cloud obscured nearly everything as I could only discern brief patches of snow below the north face. The wind merely breathed marring an otherwise silent perch. I relaxed for a good twenty minutes watching as the curtains parted in this direction and that allowing glimpses of Pyramid's ridge, Cathedral Peak and other features nearby.
As I started down the northwest ridge, I could see my predecessor at the Castle-Conundrum saddle, the clouds diminishing to a veil. Loose footing greeted me here but there was virtually no exposure. I was aware suddenly that my shadow was being cast across the veil to my left perfectly ringed in a halo of color and I stood and watched the phenomenon until it faded with the rising mist. The photo has since turned out quite nicely. I reached the saddle and decided to go ahead to Conundrum. On non-obvious trail, I worked my way up the rocky ridge to a long summit from where I could see the second summit just beyond a couloir.
This couloir was indeed full to the top and obviously steep. I remembered that Dawson had mentioned it was about 45 degrees at its steepest. The cornice was easily avoided and I made my way up to the second summit trying to decide how I would descend when it eventually came time to do so. The clouds had lifted quite a bit, rewarding my extra effort to reach the second summit with a stupendous sight of Cathedral Peak to the north. I clicked a panorama and a close-up of the peak then made ready to go down. I paused to study Conundrum Couloir. The slope was made a bit convex by the greater melting along the edges of the chute but the snow was in fine condition. Let's do it.
I self-belayed and kick-stepped to the center of the snow, lay down on my hip and sunk a boot edge to hold my self while I arranged my axe in self-arrest. Then I was off in an accelerating slide into second base. I quickly rolled into self-arrest and controlled my speed to change course slightly. The slope steepened just a bit and I was really moving now, my elbow locked to my side while I held the pick about two-thirds into the snow, the other hand holding the spike away from the slope. The walls began to neck and I went into self-arrest again. I remember thinking this is happening too fast and not fast enough referring to my rate of descent and my rate of arresting. I quarter turned and picked the spot on the encroaching wall I would fend off as the convex slope cast me to a side. I dug with the pick and absorbed the remaining energy with my right foot firmly planted on the rock.
I don't remember any pain just the feeling that I hadn't finished what I was doing. I rested briefly then set course for the bottom half. I resumed a wild pace that was unfettered by encroaching walls. The runout was snow as far as I could see and my only fleeting worry was that I could reach the icy tarn set in the middle of the basin. I could see I needed to stop the descent before descending too much necessitating a climb up to the exit rim of the basin. Gliding to a stop, I collected myself with deep breaths to steady my racing heart and rest my aching hand. I stood to the realization that I had sprained my ankle during the quick stop above. After rearranging my outerwear I wandered to the exit of upper Montezuma Basin, the softening snow cushioning the blow on my bum wheel, where a small crowd was slowly approaching up the snow slope below.
Some were properly equipped with axe and boots while others were making their way without axe and wearing sneakers. The latter were trying, not too successfully, to avoid as much snow as they could by tightroping along the sporadic rocks along the west edge of the slope. Stopping during a leisurely glissade on the moderate slope, I was questioned about the rest of the route. I mentioned that the route up the northeast ridge is snow free but that snow reached nearly to the northwest ridge. I expressed that a descent by that route probably wasn't wise without an axe. I resumed my slide in the more conventional glissade posture and soon was ready to traverse to the basin's end.
Back at the truck by 1000, I noticed the soloist's Jeep was gone. I had no idea what his descent route had been. I had followed him up Conundrum and there were no other marks in the Couloir. Perhaps he had descended the scree slope directly above the parking area. It didn't look inviting with its steepness and looseness but what other way could he have come down? I scrapped plans to pack to Snowmass Lake that afternoon as my ankle had swollen nicely from its meeting with the wall. I braced myself for the rocky road out and, even more, my wallet for lunch in Aspen.
-- Thanx for your interest.
Tom