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| Sunrise on Mt. Waddington |
“Hey Jas, are you going to drop your prunes here?” I did a
double take… how did Chris know I had been counting down the steps until we
were off the glacier so I could untie from the rope and dash away to the broken
talus to relieve myself. And the more important question: why should he care?
Did he want to take an alpine shitting lifestyle shot? Come on, I thought
grumpily, this is taking the pose-down thing WAY too far! I took a deep breath
and explained that I was going to head behind some rocks before his quizzical
expression prompted my realization that he was asking where I was going to
leave my POONS! AKA crampons.
Chris Christie, adventure photographer and Vancouver fireman
extraordinaire had abandoned the comforts of Squamish with it’s cheap and
delicious sushi, flat surfaces to sleep on and cool lakes to dip in for two
weeks of lumpy tent sites, crevasse dodging on a treacherous glacier and so
much estrogen that I wouldn’t be surprised if Tiedemann Creek was running red
by the time we left the range. Chris had
opted to join Squamish climbers Sarah Hart, Kinley Aitken and myself, Jasmin
Caton on our trip to the Waddington Range as team photographer. By the end of
the trip Chris had seen a lot. The things he might have expected –laughter,
sunbathing, reading Vogue Magazine, boulder-top dance parties and some other
things he might not have – tears, farting, shitting in close quarters at a
tight bivi spot, verbal promises to quit alpine climbing forever in favor of
returning home to have babies. Let’s just say Chris may never be the same.
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Probably the fullest heli I have ever been in.
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Basecamp kicks enjoying the view from Sunny Knob.
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Bikini season wasn't waiting until we got home to Squamish... Kinley had to stay on top of her tan!
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The first tears of the trip were mine. I admit it freely. We
had flown in late in the evening, set up camp at Sunny Knob, a rocky ridge like
feature a few hundred meters above the Tiedemann Glacier sandwiched
between two active serac fall zones. The unsettling crashing at intervals
throughout the night kept my dreams full of landslides and avalanches. On our
first morning, Sarah, Kinley and I went on a glacier walk reconnaissance up the
Tiedemann Glacier, feeling smaller and more squishable with each step as
Waddington, Combatant, Tiedemann and Asperity towered above us. A huge and
somewhat fresh looking avalanche deposit had covered most of the upper reaches
of the glacier and the roars of repeated serac falls off Waddington kept my
heart in my throat as we wandered upwards, trying to get a look at some of our
possible objectives. Suddenly, a huge roar came from the direction of
Waddington and a massive powdercloud raced down the face. I was terrified and
began backing away from the mountain, even as logic told me that we were likely
safe where we were, and if we weren’t, running wouldn’t do me much good. As the
dust settled, tears ran down my face as I wondered why the hell I left the
relatively safe and fun playground of Squamish for this scary and intimidating
venue. I didn’t necessarily feel like I was in over my head, just that my head
wasn’t into these kinds of hazards.
After a few warm-up routes on Tiedemann Tower and Claw peak,
we were ready for our main objective. We hoped to climb a new route on The
Grand Cappuccino. Naturally, being coffee fiends, we were drawn to the name of
this 3300m spire, but the lack of serac fall threatening its vicinity, and the
fine-looking steep headwall comprising the east face made this objective even
more tempting than an expertly poured, extra foamy, dark-chocolate sprinkled,
biscotti accompanied beverage.
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| Sarah and Kinley in the early morning en route to Tiedemann Tower, Combatant Col in the background |
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Kinley and Sarah soloing on the bottom of Tiedemann Tower
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| Climbing in tanks on Tiedemann Tower, Mt. Waddinton behind |
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The intent was to climb Serra Two (3605m) via it’s 1500m
South Ridge (TD 5.9 45°) but to travel
with enough gear to stop partway up and attempt a new route on the Grand
Cappuccino, which branches off of the south ridge of Serra Two just over half
way up. We convinced Chris to join us, thinking he could chill at our bivi and
possibly even take photos while we climbed the Grand Cappuccino.
On our first day we covered 1000m of ground on rock and
snow, with some tricky sections of loose rock and deep snow wallowing
interspersed with sections of beautiful rock climbing. As we climbed evidence
of a “dirty high” was mounting. Before you get too excited, I should explain
there were no impure drugs or sexual behavior involved. “Dirty high” is a
legitimate meteorological term for “a high pressure that has clouds and/or
precipitation within its domain”. Optimists that we are, we kept climbing up
despite the lenticulars, mares tails and other ominous cloud forms building in
the sky.We bivied in an unsavory jumble of blocks, with the Grand Cappuccino
towering above us, and awoke to a nightmarish sight of fresh snow coating
everything, and no sign of improving weather.
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Sarah looking thrilled at the snowy state of things.
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Chris Christie, revelling in the glamour of being an adventure photographer
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| Where's the pink bikini and Vogue magazine now? |
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| The team, mid chew, getting packed up to go climbing. |
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So began a truly epic day in the mountains. At least to my Squamish softie, wimpy girl standards. I am sure that all you real alpinists out there who plunge your bare hands into snow before ice climbing and deprive yourself of water and food so your body gets used to starving on multiday sufferfests would not even put this into the mini-epic category. It's true, I didn't lose any limbs, not even the tiniest tip of my nose succumbed to frostbite, I didn't run out of oxygen and become drunkenly disoriented, and I didn't have to drag my broken carcass out of a crevasse and down the mountain alone. But there was some thigh deep snow wallowing up a 45 degree slope, slippery wet-lichen encrusted
rock climbing up to 5.9, and frozen fingers and toes as the snow continued to
fall. My personal low point of the day was when I led up a steep and burly
crack that dead-ended. I slung a horn and lowered down, but the rope wouldn’t
pull. Rookie move! I jumared up, reset the anchor to a better position, rapped down,
pulled the rope easily but it fell into a crack and got stuck. I climbed up for
a third time, freed the stuck rope and began down climbing but the rope I was
getting belayed on jammed in a crack and I had to solo down to free it. Cursing a
blue streak and frustrated that my hour of effort had progressed us exactly
nowhere, I was bumped to the back of the bus so Kinley and Sarah could have
their fun on the sharp end.
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Kinley loving life on the snowy, licheny rock, with Phantom Tower behind
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| Conditions are prime. |
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The final portion of the climb was a never-ending super
exposed and esthetic knife-edge, made slightly more complicated by intermittent
snow sections. We simulclimbed as quickly as we could, barely even pausing to
take in the extreme beauty of where we were as occasional shafts of sun
penetrated the thick clouds around us, highlighting the stark shapes and
contrasts in the rock and snow on the ridge. The day was flying by as false
summits and tricky buttresses of low fifth-class climbing, sometimes on very
loose blocks, continued to present themselves. The fact that we were all
carrying bivi gear and extra stuff for our planned ascent of the Grand
Cappuccino, including a bolt kit, pins, a hammer and a sizeable rack, did not
help our speed.
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Trying to hustle on the snow rock snow rock of the final ridge section of Serra Two
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Finally, as night was falling, we gained the top of the
south ridge and were able to begin rapping down the Hidden Couloir onto the
Tellot Glacier. Our fourth rap took us over the bergrschrund just as dark was
truly upon us. We roped up and began descending the broken glacier with icy
mist collecting on our clothes and hair, silently wondering how the hell we
were going to navigate several kms down the glacier to the warmth and shelter
of the Plumber Hut. Just as we began to need our headlamps to see, the clouds
dissipated for the first time all day and the full moon illuminated the
glacier. My whoop of relief echoed across the surreal landscape of spires, snow
and ice, and as if in response, a bright meteor flashed overhead. As we
stumbled in a sinuous path over the unpredictable breakable crust of the
glacier, I marveled in the beauty around us and felt overwhelmed by gratitude that this
amazing adventure had concluded safely.
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| One of the last raps onto the Tellot. It's getting dark and I am ready to be done. |
The next morning, we spent several indescribably pleasant
hours lounging about in the sun outside the hut, drinking instant coffee,
eating the last of our food and reminiscing about the crazy climb it had been.
I could hardly believe my eyes when Kinley pulled out a pink compact mirror and
tweezers from her pack and began preening. I love these seemingly incongruous
moments when strong, competent women do very stereotypically girly things in the mountains.
Personally, I had no desire to look in a mirror when I could feel my sunburned
and chapped lips flaking off in leprous chunks.
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| Kinley the mountain princess in her natural habitat |
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| The team. Alive, well and extra bonded after our long climb. |
Eventually we marched back to our Sunny Knob basecamp and
de-rigged from our Serra Two epic. A small infection in Kinley’s elbow had producing
a kiwi-fruit sized lump during the climb, and a sat phone call to a nurse
confirmed that she needed to get to an ER. As we packed up, my disappointment
at leaving without even getting a sip of the Grand Cappuccino was dwarfed by my
satisfaction of completing three safe and classic ascents in this stunning
range. I am certain I don’t have the necessary cahones to pursue most of the
big-mountain objectives the Waddington Range is full of, but my caffeine and
granite spire addiction is giving me a craving for a second round of Grand
Cappuccino next summer…
Mountains and mountains of gratitude to MEC Expedition Support and Patagonia for giving us financial help with the pricy heli flight to go on this trip. Black Diamond Equipment supplied a ton of sweet gear including my new fave small pack - the Speed 22, and some super light and comfy Vector Helmets. Sterling Ropes supplied us with some super durable and awesome handling Velocity 9.8mm ropes. 5.10 set me up with my extra comfy super-sized Galileos which I wore socks under on every pitch. PRObar and Vega hooked us up with some tasty food that kept us going (climbing and #2). These companies ROCK and make going on trips like this possible for those of us lucky enough to have the time and desire to make them happen.
