Alpine Climbing: A discipline of climbing where the primary aim is to reach the summit of a mountain or large geological feature; often requiring the ascent of steep rock, ice and snow faces, or a mixture of both over many lengths of climbing rope.
It is a beautiful Friday afternoon. Myself and my climbing partners Jason Wilmoth and Chris Doll have just arrived in the little Bavarian-themed town of Leavenworth, nestled at the base of the Cascade Mountains. Upon first look, most people see a cute tourist town. We see something different. We see the gateway to some of the best mountain climbing in the Northwest, maybe the world. Just beyond the edge of town lies a canyon that runs to the south that holds the treasure we are seeking: granite, entire mountains made of pristine alpine granite — the stuff that climbing legends have cut their teeth on for generations. The same type of rock that makes Yosemite so famous is abundant in Washington. The Icicle Canyon is one small slice of that piece of climbing heaven.
We make a quick stop at the local grocery store for some last-minute items. Then we head out of town and up into Icicle Canyon. We drive up about 9 miles to our camp spot. We have outfitted our trucks with sleeping platforms in the back, so we can quickly and easily crash for the night in a dry cozy spot. After the 3.5-hour drive, we are exhausted and head for bed. Tomorrow will be a big day when we hope to find the perfect route that will properly test our skills and further help define why we do this.
It is the overwhelming beauty that drives me to dedicate so much time to alpine climbing over other types of climbing. What I have seen in the 10 or so years that I have been climbing has, without a doubt, drastically shaped the way I look at the world. It has certainly given me a profound love of the mountains and the wild places that lie outside of the city limits. It has given me a place that makes me feel completely alive; and it doesn’t have to be while clinging to the side of a 1,000-foot-tall rock face. It can also be far below that rock wall, in canyons where the snow and ice that I climbed during winter has since melted and has now filled the creek and river enough to allow me to paddle down its incredible whitewater in my kayak.
The mountains are also where I have built some of my strongest and most cherished relationships. I introduced this cute little blonde girl I met a while back to climbing. She was instantly hooked and I firmly believe our relationship has become as strong as the granite that we love to climb on due to the experiences we had together in the mountains. She has since become my wife, and now mother to our beautiful baby daughter who at four days old was already out learning the power of the mountains. Even the guys I have come to Cascades with on this trip I have known for years and have forged friendships with them in the mountains.
Climbing, moreover alpine climb-ing, demands perfection. You must be able to completely trust your partner when in the mountains. Your life de-pends on it. It is almost impossible to not develop a close relationship with the people you venture to massive summits with. High in the mountains, you must make sound and logical decisions together, where the outcomes may have drastic and long lasting physical and emotional effects on everyone involved. I am lucky to know people like Jason and Chris. Both have a plethora of experience and an equal amount of passion for the mountains. They are motivated to venture to the high peaks around us for the same reasons that I am — the freedom, the beauty and the adventure that is waiting to be discovered.
Saturday morning comes quickly. The wind picked up ferociously overnight and shook the trucks all evening; its icy fingers trying desperately to find a weakness in our shelters and dissuade us from our mission. As we slowly rise from our slumber and clamber out the back of the trucks, we remark about the change in the weather. As we groggily prepare breakfast and coffee on our tailgates, we joke about getting blown off the wall by the wind, which is much stronger than initially predicted. Despite that, we take solace in the fact that we have abundant sunshine for the moment. Although, we do not take that for granted, as the years of time spent in the mountains has taught us that if you just wait a few minutes, the weather is bound to change. After breakfast we hurriedly pack our gear into our packs and get ready to head down the road to start the approach to our chosen climb.
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This is not unlike most approaches to a typical spring or summer alpine climb. It is steep and rocky on the side of a mountain and filled with wildflowers. Despite the fact that I have an almost unhealthy obsession with winter and the cold, I can certainly appreciate the vibrant greens, yellows, purples and blues of the wildflowers that cover the mountainside we are climbing. The views across the valley to the famous Snow Creek Wall and Enchantments are equally awe-inspiring. Giant jagged mountains as far as the eye can see and a stunning waterfall cascading down into the Icicle River below are enough to make our minds wander in between catching breaths from our hike up the mountain to our route.
We finally make it to the bottom of our route and begin unpacking gear from our packs. The sound is like a toddler rummaging around in the cookware drawer in the kitchen as we pull dozens of pieces of climbing hardware out of our packs and lay them on the ground in front of us. Chris scans the guidebook one last time, and we verify that we have enough gear to safely and successfully climb this giant rock face. We roshambo for who will lead the first pitch. Jason takes the win!
Tied into the rope, Jason starts up the route. The shear focus and calm that he must maintain to successfully climb this section is impressive.
Meanwhile, an eagle soars just overhead, seemingly enjoying the high winds and probably wondering what those crazy humans are doing on the rock below. As we work our way higher and higher up the wall as a team, we are again reminded of why we do this. The feel of the granite at our fingertips is grainy and cool to the touch. We search out the tiny holds that will allow us to stand and ultimately move up the vertical wall in front of us. Everything is extremely methodical. Finding just the right body position to balance on a tiny crystal is all it takes to continue to move upward.
Just as we thought, the weather has continued to deteriorate as we move up the route. The wind has been howling and a couple of gusts have blown us off balance on more than one occasion. Just as another strong gust hits us, Chris looks up and points across the valley at the wall of snow that is hurtling toward us. Within a minute or two we are engulfed in a massive freak snowstorm while only half way up our climb. Hanging off the side of a cliff 400 feet above the ground while belaying your buddy during a snowstorm is not the most pleasant thing to experience.
We like to refer to this portion of a climb or adventure as a sufferfest or Type 2 fun. This is part of the adventure where things start to feel miserable. Our hands and feet are cold, we are cold and beginning to get wet since the snow is melting as quickly as it hits us, and the wind is causing a brutal chill. At this point we realize that since there is water running down the rocks, we will not be able to fi nish our climb and reach the top. We end up struggling up the last 100 feet to an anchor at the top of the next pitch (a spot where the rope is secured to the wall). The anchor was located just below the top of the mountain, and we quickly wrapped the rope up to begin the scramble off the side and back down to where we started. As luck would have it, once we reached the bottom the storm was over and the sun came back out — a typical day in the mountains of the Pacific Northwest.
In the end, this is what alpine climbing is all about: Freedom, focus, trust, suffering, failure and success. We do this even through the extreme mental and physical challenges, and ultimate exhaustion, because the mountains are home and the place where we feel complete. Years of practice, honing our skills and building unbreakable relationships despite insurmountable challenges is what draws us to the mountains. Even in failure we find success in the fact that we came home safely and ultimately had a great time. N
By Chris Celentano
Photography By Chris Celentano
1 Comment
That’s my boy! I think he gets it from me.
Signed T. Wilmoth