RAM
08-10-2009, 06:41 PM
-We awoke in a cloud. It was mostly calm. Then a drizzle. Then a sleet. Then a
rain. Then it would blow. Then calm. Sometimes it would brighten, the sun trying
to come in over the top. Then it would darken. By noon we were stiff and
restless. A party had headed the way we needed to go, the day before. They had
turned back. But if we could follow their prints, it would point us in the right
direction. So in a lull, we packed. Ziff found a great route over a pass, saving
us a rappel and in our own personal " box of cloud," we headed upward. After a
turn left and and turn right, we found the apex of the glacier and headed up
Austera Peak.
An exposed ledge would take us past most of the difficulties. The rock was
loose. The rock was lichen covered. The rock was wet. When we fall, we fall
fast. And so it was with Aaron. Half the tumble was over before he would
remember any of it. It was a class 3 spot. Did the foot shoot out? He doesn't
know. We do know that the angle was low.....but still he went over backwards and
rolled. He came to a stop. Ziff called urgently for me. I was up ahead with
Sonny. I let Sonny hustle back to my fallen son. The people there were SAR
people. The people there were medical people. The people there were not related
to him. They did not need a panicked parent. I let my mind wander off to my
first romance. Still the conversation below filtered in. Wave of parental panic.
Moment of calm removal. Wave of.....
Inventory was taken (4th picture) and the damage was minimal. A chewed up butt.
An scraped up lower back. Test that sore elbow. Note the dink on the helmet.
Ahhh, to be young, fluid and flexible!! And helmeted! I strolled down as the
evaluation continued. We were remote. We were in a cloud. We were lucky! What to
do? We summitted and continued on.
Down, down, down and around the corner. Then that best of Cascade magic starts.
The clouds start to part. A show with 100's of acts. A peek here. A window
there. A parting. A closing. A sunbeam. Then patches of blue. It mesmerizes. It
is constant change. It is timely, for we can now see where we might go
But where to go? It seems cliffed out in all directions. We discuss. We
disagree. We probe. It is hard to see a way, in and out of cloud, going
downhill. And the thought of climbing back up is daunting with loads on the
back. A hateful thought. We probe and probe and finally a loose gully offers
hope. A full double rope rap and watch out for those loose boulders. We land on
a glacier. Sonny's pack tumbles and lands 150 vertical feet lower or so his
altimeter says. It was right on the edge of a much further fall.
Our reward for getting here? Over 1,500 vertical feet of climbing up to a pass.
It is 8 PM. I am feeling the tension of the day and I snap at folks who don't
deserve it. Then these people blitz hard up the hill. Camp is made before dark
in a place called Lucky Pass. Lucky we are to be all in one piece and the luck
would hold. The next day would be among the most extraordinary of our lives.
http://picasaweb.google.com/aramv14/AusteraPeak71309#
rain. Then it would blow. Then calm. Sometimes it would brighten, the sun trying
to come in over the top. Then it would darken. By noon we were stiff and
restless. A party had headed the way we needed to go, the day before. They had
turned back. But if we could follow their prints, it would point us in the right
direction. So in a lull, we packed. Ziff found a great route over a pass, saving
us a rappel and in our own personal " box of cloud," we headed upward. After a
turn left and and turn right, we found the apex of the glacier and headed up
Austera Peak.
An exposed ledge would take us past most of the difficulties. The rock was
loose. The rock was lichen covered. The rock was wet. When we fall, we fall
fast. And so it was with Aaron. Half the tumble was over before he would
remember any of it. It was a class 3 spot. Did the foot shoot out? He doesn't
know. We do know that the angle was low.....but still he went over backwards and
rolled. He came to a stop. Ziff called urgently for me. I was up ahead with
Sonny. I let Sonny hustle back to my fallen son. The people there were SAR
people. The people there were medical people. The people there were not related
to him. They did not need a panicked parent. I let my mind wander off to my
first romance. Still the conversation below filtered in. Wave of parental panic.
Moment of calm removal. Wave of.....
Inventory was taken (4th picture) and the damage was minimal. A chewed up butt.
An scraped up lower back. Test that sore elbow. Note the dink on the helmet.
Ahhh, to be young, fluid and flexible!! And helmeted! I strolled down as the
evaluation continued. We were remote. We were in a cloud. We were lucky! What to
do? We summitted and continued on.
Down, down, down and around the corner. Then that best of Cascade magic starts.
The clouds start to part. A show with 100's of acts. A peek here. A window
there. A parting. A closing. A sunbeam. Then patches of blue. It mesmerizes. It
is constant change. It is timely, for we can now see where we might go
But where to go? It seems cliffed out in all directions. We discuss. We
disagree. We probe. It is hard to see a way, in and out of cloud, going
downhill. And the thought of climbing back up is daunting with loads on the
back. A hateful thought. We probe and probe and finally a loose gully offers
hope. A full double rope rap and watch out for those loose boulders. We land on
a glacier. Sonny's pack tumbles and lands 150 vertical feet lower or so his
altimeter says. It was right on the edge of a much further fall.
Our reward for getting here? Over 1,500 vertical feet of climbing up to a pass.
It is 8 PM. I am feeling the tension of the day and I snap at folks who don't
deserve it. Then these people blitz hard up the hill. Camp is made before dark
in a place called Lucky Pass. Lucky we are to be all in one piece and the luck
would hold. The next day would be among the most extraordinary of our lives.
http://picasaweb.google.com/aramv14/AusteraPeak71309#