Oh my sickness is getting stronger again! For those that don't know, I refer to my love of mountain climbing as my sickness. It is something so exhilarating to me that flirts with chaos and danger. Maybe it is more an addiction for me. Well, I think most mental health professionals diagnose addiction as a sickness, right? Who in a state of well-being would repeat something again and again that could be hazardous to their living? Me, I guess. Call me crazy...well after reading this post you surely will think I'm nuts.
This past week was the focus of intense rope and crevasse rescue training. What is a
crevasse? Well, it is an opening in a glacier that usually is many feet deep. Crevasses can be in plain sight or covered by snow waiting to swallow up a climber. Needless to say, they pose a danger to climbers on glaciated peaks.
Tuesday night our team got together after the work day to review knots and rescue system set up. We met at a park in corporate Lone Tree, CO. We hung anchors from trees to practice on. This prepped us for Wednesday night, where we had a 4 hour classroom instruction on Advanced Crevasse Rescue put on by the
Colorado Mountain Club and it's subdivision, High Altitude Mountaineering School. The class was a good size of 30. Great instruction was given from guys who have been on big mountains around the world (and Rainier). These instructors have even fallen into crevasses themselves, so they bring first hand experience to the table. Billy, Jeff and I were grouped up with instructor Jeff Brown. He was my oldest son's baseball coach. He has a nice climbing portfolio- Rainier, Aconcagua, Elbrus, Kilimanjaro, Mt. Blanc, Mexican Volcanoes and many more.
Our classroom session was followed by field training on Saturday. The agenda was to get an early start on Loveland Pass. We got up shortly before 3 am. Billy, myself, Jeff and Ben carpooled and met at 4 am. We met Derrill and the rest of the class at the Morrison/ I-70 park-n-ride shortly after 4:30 am. Arriving at Loveland Pass we were greeted by fresh snow. Winter just won't give up on the mountains this year, which is good for us.
We geared up and set off on snow shoes climbing the West side of the pass. The wind was blowing and the clouds were moving in and out. Ben and I carried 45 lbs packs, Billy 52 lbs, Jeff and Derrill 25 lbs. We had to ascend an unnamed peak 12,585 ft. and descend the south side to our training area.
The trainees and instructors gradually trickled into the staging area. It was hard to tell how big the cornices were because the light was flat and the wind was blowing the snow. Jeff Brown and I were the first of our team to arrive. We were discussing a 2 person belay out to the cornice to check it's stability and stomp the edge, when another instructor walked out to the edge not roped or belayed. He stepped too close to the edge and was gone. He fell completely over the cornice which turned out to be about a 40 foot drop. Our training turned into a live rescue. We frantically dug in anchors and set up a rescue line. Luckily for the instructor he wasn't hurt. We raised him up and carried on our training.
Our training consisted of tying into a 3 person rope team (which is our plan for Rainier) and have our end person fall over the edge of the cornice. The 2 other team members need to arrest the fallen climber then build a
rescue rope system (3:1, 5:1 mechanical advantage) to haul the fallen climber to safety. Jeff was chosen as the first victim. He went to the edge and stepped over but only went a few feet in the soft snow. I think his nerves were a little on edge (no pun intended) to take the full plunge. Billy and I completed building our system and brought Jeff up in about 30 minutes.
Billy (in red) and I (in blue) building our system to save Jeff
I was next to take the plunge. I was amp'd up. The light was still flat so it was difficult to see the actual drop. I walked to the edge and stepped off . "FALLING" I yelled. My team stopped me, but not before I went the full 40 feet to the bottom and landed on the top of the steep snow slope. The cornice was enormous!! I was actually under it in what was like a cave. There were classmates of other teams dangling next to me. It was a little daunting hanging under this massive snow structure. I'm not going to lie, thoughts of it breaking off and crushing me did cross my mind.
A fallen climber to my right.
A dangling climber to my left and one further out who landed on the snow like I did.
As you are hanging, or in my case, resting on the snow, you need to hook your backpack onto the rope. This helps to distribute weight better. Next, you hook up a
Texas Prusik to the rope. This serves as a climbing "ladder" so you can ascend the rope on your own (which I found very difficult to do).
Looking up my lifeline.
As I was kneeling in the snow I observed the other climbers getting hauled up. The gal to my far left got under the snow overhang and was pinned to it. She was screaming/crying for help. She said she couldn't breath. Her team finally heard the shouts from other climbers and she was lowered. Scary moment for sure! Then it dawned on me that I was in the same potential situation, being under the overhang. I made sure that I would manage it different than she did. Communication with my team was difficult from my vantage and I had no visual sight of them. They wouldn't know my status as they pulled me up. I felt tension on the rope and was pulled a few feet off the snow. I hung for a while twisting at times in the breeze. It was fatiguing holding myself in position and my harness would come awfully close to riding up in the WRONG place! Finally, my team began to haul me up. I got to the overhang and dug my feet in to push away from it. I got up on it safely without being crushed into it. Slowly I inched my way up the snow cliff until I had a visual on my team. I had been over the edge for a hour! The team had difficulty with the rope set up which delayed my return up top.
We repeated the scenario again, this time Billy went over. I led the rescue set up and we pulled Billy up in 26 minutes. Unfortunately, Billy had too much rope and hit the bottom snow hard, hyper-extending his knee. After bringing Billy up, we thought about running a middle climber fall scenario, however the weather was turning for the worst. We packed up and were the first group to head back to the car. Images of our last outing of whiteout chaos flashed before Jeff and my eyes. We were in another potential hazardous situation above treeline with a less than straight forward route. Luckily the storm never took full shape. Billy's knee was sore on the return hike and we took it slow.
Our return climb over Peak 12,585 ft before the weather turned sour.
We made it back to the vehicles safely in warming temps and decreasing wind. While we removed our gear a road cyclist crested the top of the pass...and you think I'm crazy?!? I wanted to ski down the North side of The Pass to complete the day. Billy, Jeff and I all brought our skis to do this, however Billy's knee prevented him from joining us. So, Jeff and I clicked in and skied an awesome run down Loveland Pass in fresh, deep, heavy snow. Billy and Ben picked us up at the bottom and we headed to Tommy Knockers again for wings and beer. We all felt confident in our rescue training and newly learned skills...Bring it on! (though we never want to use these skills of course).
We are under the two month count down to Rainier! Our plane tickets are purchased and our Mt. Rainier National Park climbing passes and wilderness camping reservations are confirmed. More training blogs to come- next weekend we are climbing South Boulder Peak and Bear Peak in Boulder.
