Not Ready to be Housewives: Welcome to India

Main Bazaar

India.  I hated it upon first arrival.  Not because I actually had an educated peripheral experience.  

Buying supplies

I was a jet lagged unprepared American and it was 4 am.  

I spoke no Indian.  

I smelled of recycled air and privilege.  

With a fax number for my hotel contact and a vague mile long street location, I was .... 

I was plain lucky the kind and patient taxi driver decided to use his own phone to repeatedly call my mistaken phone number.  He asked every snoring street-side sleeper if they had heard of Karlos Kastel Hostel.  Finally he backed into a small alleyway with a smile, nod and hand motion that we had arrived.  

Public Baths, Vashisht

I was uncertain...thinking he just wanted to be rid of his pre-dawn cargo drama.  

He was right. 

We had arrived.  The 3 boys sleeping across the tiny lobby sofa's and coffee tables assisted in my check in.  My name was 'on the list' thanks to Crystal and Whitney nearly one month prior.  

I entered my private room, sweaty, exhausted and cross-eyed.  

I slept.  

Maybe I slept.  

View from the town of Vashisht

Legs twitched from 20 hours of airplane comfort.  

My journey jostling elbows in this city of over 18 million people had only just begun.  

Alone with many more hours to travel, I ventured cautiously from my 'private' alleyway to sort transportation onward.   

Whitney enjoying one of the many Chai stops

The Main Bazaar is a bustling commerce center in the heart of Delhi.  

Car horns, rickshaws, people and cows fighting for space nearly all hours of the day.  The hours zoomed by in a whirl bobbing and weaving through the street lined shops, fruit stands and occasional pile of feces…cow and human alike.  

Packing up early morning Vashisht

Finally, on the night bus, I tossed and turned almost rhythmically along with the exceptionally winding road north.  After a brief and unintended 3 hours pit stop somewhere rural northern India, due to an axle issue, I finally plopped into a gravel parking lot in Manali.  Excited my travel journey was only to be 20 minutes more, I hailed the first motor rickshaw driver in sight, forgoing any sort of bartering with the driver.  Forget saving 40 cents, I just wanted to be in Vashisht with the girls! 

Manali to Vashisht richshaw ride

A beautiful, stunning, breath taking ride from Manali to Vashisht, reignited my heart.  I had been so life busy prior to India and brain focused on travel logistics, that I hadn’t taken a moment to ponder and appreciate.  I had now reached fresh air, scaling lush mountains and ridges abound.  More perfectly vague directions dropped me off at the end of the small cobblestone road, right outside a public bath.  I ditched my gear at a local shop, backtracking a few hundred yards to a rooftop cafe.  Crystal and Whitney were anticipating my arrival on this day.  

A glorious sight for sore eyes— people and a language I knew! My shoulders nearly slid down off my back entirely as I relaxed.  

just a few of the regular roadway hazards

Summit!

The girls, having 3 weeks prior to my arrival, had just completed their second foray into the Himalayas.  Their first mission included a second ascent of peak CB6a (5450 m), by their route NibbiJibbi (5.10-, 400 m).  Their second adventure climbed an unnamed 5100-meter peak in the Miyar Valley, they named their route Poornima (5.10, 600 m).  This valley was icy cold.  A long storm left them tent bound for days.  Almost October, the higher peaks were experiencing a pubescent cycle.  Immature ice, once clean rock now pitted with snow and a horrible cover-up of crevasses.  

They switched objectives and climbed a beautiful new line in a push.   

Crystal cheezin 

Seeing their smiling faces, breathing fresh mountain air and nearly touching the surrounding peaks, renewed my stoke.  I bit my lip, attempting to calm the energy boiling… What do you think, how are conditions, what is the snow line, what is the weather? 

“When do we head back in?” I blurted somewhere between “Hi” and “It is so nice to see you.”

Pitch 3 of Poornima

Shrugging, Freshy Ms Fresh was up against miles of trekking with big loads, cold climbing and wet camping.  I am not blaming these ladies for lack of enthusiasm nor diminishing their accomplishments.  I wish I could have joined.  

Its just that I was amped and a little tiredness secreted out their gaze.  

We chilled for two nights in the hippie town of Vashisht, planning and scheming.  The third day 5am a private taxi van transported us eastward 12 hours across the Himachal Pradesh.  The narrow dirt roads (bike paths in North America) carved out mountain sides.  In some places the mountain regained control, causing total destruction to our path forcing all to reroute.  Delivery trucks, public transportation buses and our taxi vans literally kissed one another as we passed.  

Whitney and CB6a

Nearing our climbing destination

http://www.alpinist.com/doc/web15y/newswire-team-authors-new-lines-India-himachal-pradesh

100th Aniversary

This September was Rocky Mountain National Park's 100th anniversary. Being an obscure goal setter to keep myself interested, busy, whatever you call it, I decided to climb 100 alpine pitches in the park.

Ariana  PHOTO: Max Barlerin

At first I was trying for as many different formations in the park as possible.  This objective was going well, but saying no to the Diamond is like saying no to red wine and chocolate. You just feel better giving in.
Hallets peak is similar. It's a wonderful solo. Its a wonderful half-day climb. It's groovy to climb three times in a work day. ;).

I digress.

I counted 109 pitches. I counted the North Chimney as one pitch, as we simul-climb or solo. Having climbed it four times = four pitches.  My dearest margarita loving friend suggested a kindly correction.  If I am to count pitches, I should be counting them as per the guidebook.
So I need a recount.  The number is higher.

Either way. I achieved my obscure summer goal.  I climbed on formations that I hadn't climbed on previously. Like Chiefshead.
WTF.  Max rallied. I worked a rescue until 10 pm the day previously. 60% chance of showers and many alpine days throughout the week had me tired.
Sorry, I blacked out.  Did I just tell you I was tired.

Geronimo--PHOTO:Max Barlerin

I was hesitant. Definitely just hesitant. Bed seemed nice. 4am came quickly.
Max made coffee. He dragged my ass out of bed, tucked me into the truck, nearly pushed the yogurt into my mouth at the trailhead.

Okay maybe not that bad.

We started hiking. Clouds swirled slowly. Non-threatening poofs spooning the granite spires. Lovers not ready to part with dawns first rays.  We passed Spearhead with a minor glance. Max was on a mission for a new line on the northeast face if Chiefshead. As we neared the cliff, the lines still looked good.  Blue sky poked her head out just enough to support a mission upwards. Off we set!!  A ballsy 5.12 pitch off the deck, eventually led into some lovely 5.11 corners and cracks with 2 sections of low fifth class linking dihedrals.  We topped out just after noon and descended quickly. During our lunch break, I began my push for another climb on the Spearhead. As we packed up and meandered. Water droplets released from above. Persistent annoying mist, not a downpour. Bummer.

Arrowhead. double WTF.


I had never climbed on it. Saving it?  Blowing it!  Adam Baxter and I climbed Birds of Fire on the Northwest face of Chiefshead the day prior, bivied and rallied for day two in Arrowhead.  Arrowplane. SickbiRd.

The list.
Casual route
Black dagger
Pervertical
Ariana
The Beaver and Staircase
The North Face
Keyhole ridge
The SW- Saber
Dalke- Cathdral wall
South buttress direct- Notchtop
Spiral route - Notchtop
Great Dihedral -First buttress of Hallets.
Culp-Bullsier  - Secomd buttress Hallets
Better than Love - Secomd buttress Hallets
Culp-Bossier with variation start - Secomd buttress Hallets
Flying Buttress - Meeker
Directisma - Chasm View Wall
Geronimo - Northeast face of Chiefshead
Birds of Fire - Northwest face of Chiefshead
Arrowplane - Arrowhead

#amazeballs.

Arrowplane..Arrowhead

Touch of Green on Birds of Fire

Home Sweet Home

Top of the Park

Good Morning from the Cirque

Baxter getting into the Black Dagger

Goofin off on Table Ledge

New Route, No Problem.  Max on Geronimo!

Keyhole Ridge, Longs Peak

Notchtop and her goods

Rizzo enjoying the view from Notchtops Summit

Clean teeth-- Clean climbing!

Ariana winks.  

Precisely etched corners refract the dawns early rays.  The orange, no, the pinkish-red glow of triangular granite looms overhead.  An evolving electric blue sky hugs from behind.  A gurgling pitter patter of fresh snow melt slips its way through lime green tufts.  
Color and energy abound.  

The Diamond lives up to its namesake this July morning.  

Brilliant

We approach quietly, soaking in the scene.  Long's Peak and its East Face stand proudly at 14,000 feet. 

14k Diamond.  

Two parties are tucked in a boulder bivy on the west side of Chasm Lake. They are friends of ours from Durango.  Just six of us hoping to claw upward through dreamy granite splitters.  Lucky to be with friends, lucky there wasn't more.    

Alluring

The North Chimney is no joke.  The Diamond's proximity to the Front Range, a handful of 'moderate' climbs such as Pervertical and the Casual Route, combined with the proliferation of climbing in Colorado---eh, the world -- makes it a crowded alpine 'crag' some days. The Diamond has become a popular first alpine climb.  Sadly, delicate grace and mountain humbleness has not yet been cultivated. 

Pernicious

Loose blocks tumble, grazing by heads and ropes---if your lucky!  Death and serious injury do occur.    

Stomping our way up steep snow, a wet cross over onto a rock apron finds us shoed-up and tied-in.  Jens sets sail up the North Chimney in one long pitch.  We dance the fine line of casual-moderate-terrain-effortless-cruising and wheels-off-the-wagon-loose-rocks-shit-could-hit-the-fan.

Unscathed, we sashay across the massive Broadway ledge.  

Jens following the golden crux pitch

Ariana teases.   

I begin to ascend the perfect dihedral's-- stretching to the ropes end.  My lead felt fluid, but my head was already spinning in anticipation.  

Thoughts refract.  

On-sight? Failure? Motivation? Ability? 

Jens arrival to the ledge snaps me from the day dream.  Gear is exchanged and he dances upward. 

Another moderate pitch sets us at the base of Ariana's goods.  A golden pillar sliced with a shallow finger crack.  I didn't pause, I am not even sure I made eye-contact with Jens. 

I played through.    

Timid at first, cautious of rejection.  Ariana's finicky nature precedes her.  

My breathing is labored.  Chasm lake glimmers and tiny boulders 2000 feet below edge my peripheral.  I place a wire, with a firm yank it holds fast.  

I shrug, still uncertain.  

Feet--feet-- stay on your feet.  

I step left precariously than upward, placing a small cam.  

Bah 

A grunt escapes as I delicately jam upwards.  Blood pulses into my forearms.  Ariana holds steady, providing thin finger locks and meek shallow hand jams  These provide temporary relief, calming my breath while balancing on tiny edges.  I miraculously find tiny stances and continue ascending.    

AhaHHHH 

Many more loud grunts echo through the Chasm cirque.  Exhausted, I throw myself through the final moves to the anchor.  

HOLY SHIT!!!  I exclaimed or thought or whispered.  

Jens follows gracefully, with a toothy smile and a giant exhale he arrives ready to tackle the final pitch.  Another full value brilliant hand and finger crack with a slabby crimp finish. 

Soon I am moving upwards.  While not as pumpy as the crux pitch, there is no backseat during this 140 foot pitch.   

With a glance at the time and a quick conversation of up or down...we couldn't resist.  

UP, one more at least!! 

I jetted up the last 5.9 pitch to Table Ledge.  With an ever important dentist appointment at 3pm--we thread the ropes and worked our way back to Broadway and the once far far away scree field.  Chasm lake still shimmering but the Diamond much darker.  

Her brilliance exhausted for the day-- Ariana let two cruise by first try!!   

What a day!!!            What a dream!!!!              What a dentist appointment????

Table Ledge Success, Ops --11:45--Time to Jet!  

Spring Forward--

Josh heading up Pitch 5 or 6 of Lurking Fear

"Dude, this is WAY above my head."  I stated flatly to my climbing partner Josh Lavigne as we scrambled the last bit of 4th class terrain in Yosemite Valley.

Pitch 4 Lurking Fear

"It is over mine too." Josh returned.


Yeah right, I thought.  You climb the shit out of El Capitan! --with grace and good attitude to boot.


This was Monday.  My first full day back in the valley--of only 5.

Five!!  NEVER NOT ENOUGH!


A ridiculously squeezed in trip...dropping objectives, but sharing wonderful company and the prospect of a killer new job at home waiting.

Josh and I hiked along side a favorite Yosemite cliff.  Moseying past the prow with Haul bags waiting, brushing our shoulders against the fixed lines of the Salathe Wall, finally dropping our packs at the base of Lurking Fear.
Our plan was to free climb with no dire need to push for a summit.

Just free climb, try hard, and have a good time.

We did!

Josh and I cheezin' after sending some El Cap free climbing!  

Josh led the first 2 pitches of the morning.  Both of us stymied by the boulder problem finish of the first pitch.  A wild sloping-pinch- mantle- over type move.  Hard, but doable.
The second pitch, 5.13c, was an intentional aid-fest.  I checked out the sideways dyno half-hearted.

Jens on the first pitch of Romulan Warburg, FiFi Buttress

What?  Beth Rodden, nice work!!!!!

I led the next two pitches.  The first being a funky mix of crack climbing with slippery face climbing.  I combo-packaged this 12c pitch.  Not ready to commit to trying hard.
Pitch 4, slab climbing to the base of a slippery water runnel.  A thin RP seam slowly widens to a hand crack finish.
I free climbed the SHIT out of that pitch!!

WOW!!  I just on-sighted a 5.12 on El Capitan!!  I quit climbing.  That's it, reached my pinnacle.  Done!!!!!!

We proceeded in climbing 2 more amazing pitches of 5.12, then decided we were happy with our achievements!

What a Monday!

I arrived to the Big Ditch at 5pm Sunday.  A decent amount of daylight tempted me

Time for Royal Arches?

First stop, Camp 4.  Jens Holsten, my other climbing partner, waited patiently.  After chatting with some folks, we finally made our way to the Pines to meet up with Josh.  The golden hour had settled in, Royal Arches was out.  Beer and conversation in the Meadow with a magical sunset ended our day.

Monday arrived.  Jens feeling mellow opted out.  So, Josh and I rallied for the Lurking Fear adventure.

Me, leading us up the first 7 Pitches on Watkins

Tuesday, the three of us fueled with coffee and hilarious motivation over Monday's dinner, headed to Fifi Buttress.  Romulan Warburg, a highly recommended rock climb-- beautiful steep corner system stacked with 5.11 and 5.12 climbing, was our objective of the day.

We rotated leads.  Jens volunteering for the sharp end first.
This pitch climbs a stellar dihedral---thin-- with awesome finishing moves.

Note to self:  Stretch before this pitch

Pitch 2, continues up a corner system-- a little run out.  Some sections required thoughtful climbing, I had trouble with this one.

I might have teared up.

Pitch 3 consisted of some off-the-hook steep blocky 5.11 climbing.  Really fun and airy.

The 4th pitch combo-meal consisted of a  bouldery dihedral switch with a bolt to a ridiculously pumpy finger/small hand crack.

RadiCal  

Josh danced up this...it was awesome to watch!

Next, pitch 5, was unique-- face climbing knobs with a few bolts and the ability to stem right.  Fun and short.
Pitch 6--  the glory crux.  A thin tips layback to an awkward mantle finish. Super strenuous and tiny pro.  I pinky jammed and layed-back, while Jens opted for some stemming.

A fabulous climb and company to celebrate Andrew's birthday!!

Jens heading up the middle of Watkins on his block.  

Wednesday greeted us with more sunshine but achy shoulders.  The Merced river gently lapped at my toes for most of the morning.  Yoga beneath El Cap soothed my brain in the afternoon and a beer with Jens firmed up our plans for the following day.

Thursday -- 4am came like Christmas.  I was ready to get up well before Jens actually hollered at me to get up!

Mt. Watkins day!

WOOT!


Jens and I hiked in while Josh dropped us off at Mirror lake, returned the car and biked back up to meet us.  All of our first time on Watkins --I love the family adventures!!

Josh (left side behind flake) taking us to the top...with the rad tree on the ledge to the right!

We speechlessly took turns on the approach, re-directing one another if a hiking error occurred.

Sunlight emerged as did the mosquitos as we made our way up the fixed lines.

I led the first 7, Jens the next 6 and Josh the last 6.  Our pasts melding into the present, everything clicking.  Roughly 8 hours or so after tying in, we reached the summit!

An evening in Tuolumne and a quick solo of Cathedral Peak closed the week out.  I piled in Randy the Subaru and headed East.

How perfect that I climb in Yosemite with two friends Josh Lavigne and Jens Holsten.  All three of us having similar experiences and attitudes towards the loss of loves, friends, and family.

RaDicaL tree on the hike out from Watkins

Cumulative a lot of loss amongst us but so much growth.

A lot of learning.
A lot of reflection.
A lot of conversation.
A lot of adventure.

One of the best trips I have ever had in the valley.  A seamless integration of decades of climbing experience with life changing lessons.  We fit together so well in this crazy puzzle of life.

This only emphasizing the importance of letting the world show me, not me showing the world.

I must be open and gracious.

Adapt and laugh.

Most important, love and spend time with those who cultivate a similar path.

Tuolumne and the boys!  

Fitz Roy

Approaching Fitz Roy's west side

“Is that you Clay?”  Sam piped up, poking fun in the full moon from our tightly packed perch. 

We had all just settled uncomfortably into our sleeping bags, tethered by cordelette and were already greeted by the loud rhythmic sound of air squeezing through a nasal passage.  Chad was out, snoring, and clearly comfortable with his legs dangling over the lip of granite.  Dreaming of rainbows and Alfahores (the most delicious cookie/carmel/chocolate treat EVER), I am sure. 

The final push to begin the route.  

  

Jens silently stirred snuggled next to Chad in their dual sleeping sack.  

Two peas in a pod.

Luke lay to my right, stiff and quite.  I think he snuck a sleeping pill.  

Clay laughed on my left side. “Ha, nope, not me tonight Sam!”

Sam, somewhere near my feet...hugging the edge...rubbed his arms methodically in attempts to stay warm, complaining of cold triceps!!! 

I slept with my face buried into my sleeping bag, hugging a rock with my cheek, chest down all twisted up.   The climbing rope under my ass leveled me just enough from slipping too far down the ledge.

Six of us sleeping on one 8 by 5 ledge, strewn with boulders and patches of ice.  

Snow was not easily accessed for melting and we were all too lazy to seek it out.

This was our second bivy on Fitz Roy. 

Stoked to be on Fitz Roy!!!

Earlier that morning Luke, Sam, Clay and myself had been awoken at our first bivy (a plush platform hanging over the northern side of Fitz Roy.

Chad and Jens had gotten an early start from their bivy lower down on the route and were climbing over our sleeping bags with smiles.  

“Morning guys,” Chad greeted us with a smile through the early dawn light.  The 4 of us started packing our kits as Jens and Chad set-up to blast up our first headwall.

Jens handed me back the #4 we had left for him on the snow pitches the day prior.  He gathered it out of the ice lined crack, but said he couldn't bring himself to clip it.  Nice work!!!!

Adam and Mike also began packing their kits, sleeping in a not-as-sweet- alcove 15 feet below us.  

100m of simul-climbing came to a halt!

Clay and I had started the approach and climbing with them Wednesday, February 12.  

Leading away from the snowy mess.  Glory ridge climbing once again

This was February 13th.  The ‘Breakfast pitch’ this Thursday morning leered at us all.  A shaded wall smeared with ice and snow.  

Adam and Mike were hesitant.  

Jens was the first to give it a rip, successfully hand traversing left into a short off-width section.  He mantled his ice axe, stemmed trepidasiously, and finally chicken-winged his way to a good stance with descent gear.  

Alright, it goes!!

The boys all looked at each other with uncertainty.  

Myself and Sam leading up the stella rib to our first Bivy

“Never climbed an icy crack with my rock shoes on,” Sam admitted to Clay as he prepped for his go on the ‘breakfast pitch.’

He nailed it with Clay following suit shortly after!  

Bivy ledge on night 1--cushy and amazing!

Adam and Mike were not feeling it, opting to descend. 

 “I think it would be safer just to go up,” I commented in an attempt to rally them along.

  

It didn’t work.

We were down to 3 teams. 

Wishing them safe travels as they figured out how to rappel off this crazy mountain, the 6 of us pushed further up the 5000 foot feature.  

Inching our way up the wall in a perfectly choreographed pattern of climbing and belaying, laughing and trying hard.    

Half-way up the headwall, I took over the leading.  Cracks were still a little snowy, but now with the sun's warmth a lot of wet.    

Eventually the 3 teams breached the headwall, belly flopping onto a flat sunny ledge.  The route continued around the south side of a western rib...more shade and ice.  

Sam Piper, Luke Holloway, and Mermoz and the moon glowing in behind.

Chatter filled the crisp air as we took a moment of pause.  All 3 parties able to mingle.  Gazing west at the vast icecap, conversations of previous weeks adventures and empanada parties.  We all smeared more zinc sunscreen on our faces.  Clay and Chad both accentuated their white face paint with a tan zinc lip goo.  

Comical to look at them both!  

“What were you dreaming about last night, Chad?”  I inquired, rousing him for his snoring.  

“Not sure? Man best night of sleep I have had in while, though!”  he replied with a grin.   

yup!

I continued the leading, but was super happy to have another team clearing the path today.  I could mindlessly wan....ops foot slipped on some black ice.  Mindless wandering wasn’t going to happen.

We all pushed on, now over 14 hours into our day.  The sun creeping closer to Cerro Torre and the western skyline.  

Short steep headwalls sections, wandering pitches with loose death blocks, black ice, snow and water.  This climb was not a gimme.

Worry swept across Clay’s face as the temps began to drop and it seemed we were no where near a comfortable stopping point.  

“Hey guys,” Jens hollered down to the four of us spread out working diligently on our individual pitches, “I think this ledge will fit all 6 of us!”  

I saw the relief in Luke’s eyes as he followed his line up the ledge with Sam, Chad and Jens already on it.  Clay had almost resigned to sleeping in a snowy flat patch a pitch lower, until this news broke.  

Phew, we were exhausted and ready to get settled in.  

Oh the Breakfast Pitch and the gang!

Chad commented on having never shared such a small ledge with so many people, he thought it was a riot!  

The snoring subsided or maybe I got a few minutes of sleep too.  

Either way Jens’ alarm at 5 am was dreadful.  

I convulsed with shivers.  Sam and Luke too.  All of us fairly dehydrated, exhausted and cold. 

Clay, thankfully, offered to lead the breakfast pitches again!  Luke and Sam started us off the third day.  More steep sections with iced blocks and another looming headwall.  

Sam and I looked at each other at one point, “Where are we???”  

The mountain stretched like Jack’s bean stalk....into the endless blue sky.  

Endless, it seemed that morning.  

My turn to head up the Breakfast Pitch, at last.  Headwall just got better!

We blasted off our bunk bed ledge without breakfast, without melting water.  

Three or four pitches had us at an angling scree and snow filled tennis field sized expanse.  Luke aimed right towards the steep red rock, a finger crack calling his name.  Jens aimed left, near the prow towards a fully rimmed-up crack he was convinced would fall out with a gentle tap.  Clay strayed straight up, towards an off-width filled with snow at its base.  

Ha, cragging 4200 feet off the deck, looking for the right path.  

Luke and Sam down-climbed.  

Not right.

Clay paused under the off-width without the correct sized gear to make a reasonably safe ascent.

Jens doubted his rimy hand-crack.  

Cheezin' at the bellyflop spot.  

Stumped.  All of us.
Jens gazed left.  A hand traverse led directly left around the prow back onto the north face of Fitz Roy and presumably the easier terrain we were looking for.

“HAND TRAVERSE!” I shouted up, “That’s the beta!!”  Chris Trimble had written me a little message right before we left for this mission, as I knew he had climbed Afanasieff last year.  

‘Sick hand-traverse leads to more wandering terrain to the top.’ 

Jens took it.  

Sure enough, the sick hand-traverse bopped us around a prow and onto a few feet more of 5.10 terrain before eventually mellowing to easier 5.8 blocky climbing.  

Jens scoping out the sick hand traverse!

Chad Heading up for the hand traverse

The terrain was not too difficult, but as we climbed up higher the snow was more prominent as was the rime covering the rocks.

Capes of never-never land rime flew westward, waving up to 5 feet sideways off the granite.  Clinging like a sea urchin in the waves.  

With the developing day, the sun’s warmth melted chunks and doused us with the little ice daggers and water droplets.  

The blue sky became a more prominent visual, as 5000 feet of granite was almost entirely under our feet.  A final snow field blanketed the path to the summit ridge. 

The 6 of us high-fived, took photos, danced a little, and marveled at our birds-eye view of the Southern tip around us.  

so close...so close

Three exhausting days of work, two cold nights of sleeping on rocks, all to summit one amazing mountain.  

We were on the top of Cerro Fitz Roy!!!!!!

Summit time is exponentially shorter than ascending time.  With many rappels and tricks still to fill the day, Luke and Sam headed down first.  Chad and Jens lingered at the top with Clay and I.  I spread some of Andrew’s ashes and took a few photos for Chad and Jens with their Hostel business card.  

We all strapped on our crampons and Jens and I led our teams down the southern snow slope.  Luke and Sam had just anchored into the first rappel, Chad and Jens had just completed a 15 foot down climb section.

Cumbre dancin' on Fitz Roy!

“Hey Quinn, you might want to give Clay a belay on that section.” Chad hollered to me.  I nodded and followed suit.  

I finished the down climb after Clay, and led across a short icy bit to the first rappel station.  Luke and Sam’s ropes still through the rings.  

“Be safe guys.” Chad hollered back at us one last time.  We were not all descending the same way.  The four of us choosing the Franco-Argetintine while Chad and Jens opting for the Super Caneleta.  

We caw-cawed with joy one last time and sent one last well wish to one another.  

The six of us summited Fitz Roy on Valentines day 2014 as an unplanned team.  Psyched to spend time together, share the loads of route finding and cleaning up the icy splitters.  Snuggling and shivering on uncomfortable platforms suspended over seas of glaciers and scree.  What a treat!    

Andrew Barnes atop Fitz Roy.  Cerro Torre in the background!

The four of us completed our rappels and separated ways, as Clay and I had gear to retrieve at another camp.  Upon arriving haggard back to El Chalten on Saturday morning, our glee was quickly overthrown with news of only five successfully descending the mountain that day.  

Fitz Roy was Chad Kellogg's 5th Patagonian summit (or so he mentioned on the top).  Sadly, it was his last.  

A legend in the climbing community, it was an amazing treat to summit this prized mountain with such a pleasant and skilled alpinist.  Thank you Chad.  My heart extends to your family and close friends and to Jens for loosing his partner en route.  

Love to my dear friends Jens, Luke, Sam, Adam, Mike and my rock star partner Clay and to the whole community of climbers in Chalten who made it down safe from their adventures.  

Cerro Torre and others.  Looking west.