Quandary Peak bluebird summit

On June 14th, Ryan and I headed into the hills again. Our objective was the summit of Quandary Peak (for the 2nd time this year) and I was really hoping to not repeat our previous turnaround with the summit in clear view. In addition to Ryan and I, 3 of my coworkers (Alex, Brian, and Xavier) joined us for their first 14er summit. With three days of snow in the week leading up to our climb, our "spring" climb turned out to be fairly winter-like, and even included a snowboard descent. Thinking back on our descent, however, causes a bit of internal controversy. To be quite honest, the whole 24 hour experience turned out to contain far better luck than planning, which unfortunately reflects my skills as a group leader since I was the one Alex, Brian, and Xavier in particular had trusted for their safety and well-being. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Here is the full story:

Friday night Ryan, Xavier, Brian and I headed down 285 to Alma and headed to Kite Lake campground, on the other side of Hoosier Pass from Quandary. I hadn't put the 2 and 2 together, but realized when we got there that Kite Lake is an approach to the "DeCaLiBro" (Democrat, Cameron, Lincoln, Bross) 14er group. We had a bit of difficulty finding CR8, but eventually enjoyed an adventurous drive up to 12,000 feet, which I didn't know was our destination until looking at Brian's topo. At that point a few concerns went through my mind ("We're heading above treeline? It's going to be very cold and windy." ... "The road might not even be open all the way."), which eventually proved true. We set up tents just off the road where it was buried by snow and impassable. It turned out to be one of the windiest nights I've spent outside. Luckily, it wasn't one of the coldest, because I found out Saturday morning that Xavier didn't have a sleeping pad, and Brian used a comforter instead of a sleeping bag... even with both I only managed to sleep in 30 minute increments. I awoke at 4:55 feeling exhausted, but after noticing the first rays of sunshine I poked my head out the tent to look north up the valley to see sun warming Lincoln's east face. I wish I had a camera, because it was one of the nicest views I've taken in from a tent, and immediately I was well rested, and had a very hard time getting back to sleep. It's funny how quickly the mountains can change a mood. After we stopped in Alma we headed over Hoosier pass (giving us a good view of Quandary's east ridge and the Cristo couloir) and met Alex for our climb.

There was much discussion leading up to the weekend about taking the Cristo couloir down after climbing the east ridge (Quandary's standard route). We had been warned to get an early start and be weary of the couloir after about 11am. Brian had flirted with the idea of carrying his snowboard gear to the top for a ride descent, and ended up bringing it. The rest of us decided to leave our snowshoes in the cars, and started up the east ridge from ~10,800' at 8:30. We found the snowline before we found the treeline. It was a perfectly wind-free and clear bluebird morning, so the sunscreen, sunglasses, and chapstick were well worth their weight right away. The snow was in great shape, though, so there was no post-holing to be had until about 10am. It was fairly sun-cupped, and we still needed to kick steps at times. Ex:


Brian and I took our time with Xavier while Ryan and Alex continued up the ridge and probably gained the summit by noon. [Apparently Alex and Ryan were accompanied by Horton the Quandary Dog most of the way, and had folks convinced on the summit that Horton was theirs. I was excited to meet him after reading and hearing so much about him... I'd like to have a pair of lungs like his!] I was a bit concerned about Xavier, so I made sure he was always within eyesight until the summit ridge where it gets steeper and harder to see as far. Brian and I were on top by 1pm, and Xavier finally made it to the top about 30 minutes later. The views were incredible, similar but still a better vantage point than Mt. Sherman last weekend. The Elks stood out in the distance, with Snowmass in particular calling my name. I was elated to be on top, and felt the Bretticus of Sparticus coming on strong...


Photos from Xavier, Brian and I:

• http://flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157605620751055/
• http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=56604&l=7a3c0&id=664490589
• http://www.flickr.com/photos/66324109@N00/tags/mtquandary

I was really excited for Brian, Xavier and Alex to have made it to the top of their first 14er. It was the 8th for Ryan and I, and we were pumped about that too. I think this played into what I consider to be the poor decision of descending the famed Cristo Couloir. In my opinion, there was less discussion about this decision that there should have been, and I would not make the same choice again given the option. There were way too many human factors that went into the decision, such as

• Brian had lugged his snowboard, boots, etc the whole way up and wanted to use them
  
• We were curious to descend another route, and a couloir at that, to turn our route into a loop... (what a great excuse to use the ice axes too!)
  
• Xavier had a bad headache, which we later found out probably had more to do with dehydration than altitude
• It was getting late and we wanted to get down fast
  

Those human factors, especially the last one, are exactly what need to be suppressed when making decisions about avalanche terrain. A few other strikes against us:

• We didn't have any avalanche gear and would not be prepared to dig someone out in an emergency
• Alex and Xavier didn't even have ice axes for a glissade
• We hadn't ascended this route and didn't know the conditions on a south-facing aspect
  

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Cristo couloir seems to be notorious for lulling beginners into this behavior. Apparently the "I think I can do it. It's supposed to be a good beginner couloir..." or "It's so close to Breckenridge that it must be safe..." are common thoughts in the beginner mountaineer community. Here are two unfortunate examples from this year

• http://www.summitdaily.com/article/20080613/NEWS/514280954 / http://www.14ers.com/phpBB3/viewtopic.php?t=13521 (a beginner climber fell the day before our climb)
• http://www.summitdaily.com/article/2008384835777 (man falls and breaks neck among other injuries on his "first alpine climb" in Cristo)
  

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In our defense, I had done a lot of reading about Cristo beforehand, and had read nothing but good things about the condition of the snow. However I was not experienced to evaluate the snow stability, and *most* that I had read was about much earlier times. I had spoken with a guy on the summit who *seemed* quite knowledgeable and had climbed Cristo. He mentioned that he was descending Cristo too and pointed the way for us. With excitement and a bit of hesitation we headed down the south face of Quandary. There were rollerballs near the summit, but nothing worth aborting for, so I thought.


I have since purchased STAYING ALIVE IN AVALANCHE TERRAIN and read on pg 168 that this is a 100% red light for wet snow / wet slab avalanches. Everything beyond our initial pitch seemed too wet or slushy to make sizable rollerballs on. The rest of the descent varied for the group. Brian was at the bottom of the couloir in about 15 minutes, Ryan glissaded to the bottom about 10 minutes after Brian, and Alex hiked / lunged-stepped right behind Ryan. Xavier and I took our time, with me leading the way in ~100 ft increments. Xavier did very well despite being very tired... his headache went away after drinking water and descending a few hundred feet. I was a bit concerned, however, when I began to hear water running near the edge of the couloir... it seemed we were on a big sheet of lubed snow ready to slide right down to the reservoir below us. I had read about this online (while reading someone else's account of triggering a wet slab avalanche on Cristo in May - http://www.14ers.com/phpBB3/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=12872&p=153059&hilit=wet+hear+water#p153059)...

There are a lot of places we we heard running water under the pack on 10-15deg slopes. If you hear that go the other way.

...and began to seriously regret the decision at that point. My concern was all the more increased when at one point I looked up to watch Xavier follow my tracks only to notice he was sliding right past me at an alarming rate. The look on his face assured me this was unintentional. I took off down the couloir after him as he gained speed, hoping to catch him and self-arrest us both (how???). As a rocky outcrop approached, I thought for sure I was going to be heading to the Summit County hospital with an injured friend that I was responsible for. Xavier remembered my 5 minutes of "self-arrest with a trekking pole" coaching and came to a stop a few feet shy of rocks that would have caused serious damage if he had collided with them while going much faster. That was an interesting dialog to say the least...

"Dude, you scared me."
"I scared YOU? How do you think I felt."
"Umm, right... sorry about this."
"Yeah, let's just get the hell off this mountain."
"Agreed."

In the end we all made it down safe, with only minor cuts from Xavier's "freeslide" incident. We had a good meal afterwards and have stories to tell of the day. For that I am thankful. I suppose everybody has some kind of wake-up call in their dangerous pursuits (a first near accident on a motorcycle, for example), and I'd say this was mine. Although it was fun, I am embarassed when I think back on it now, and definitely feel like we collectively swiped one ball from the "luck" jar and dropped it into the "experience" jar... hopefully I don't need it later in life. I think I have a new appreciation for the phrase, "there are old mountaineers and there are bold mountaineers but no old, bold mountaineers."

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Here is a bit of additional reading about wet slab avalanches which caught my eye after our climb (from http://www.avalanche.org/~moonstone/slab/avalanche%20release%20and%20snow%20characteristics.htm):

Once the potentially unstable snow layer has been warmed to 0.0 degrees C throughout, the entire amount of solar energy is available for the melting process.

As noted above, wet snow has a lower albedo than dry snow. Therefore, as the surface layers begin to melt, the wet snow is capable of absorbing more solar radiation, which in turn causes more melt to occur.

When the entire thickness of the snowcover has warmed to within 2.0 degrees C or less of freezing, the possibility of thaw-induced avalanche events greatly increases. Once this criteria is met, the next requirement is for the mean daily air temperature to exceed the freezing level and at that point avalanches occur.

Therefore, even though optimum sun angle for a south-facing slope might occur at noon, avalanching may not begin to occur until sometime later, perhaps coincidental with slopes possessing a more westerly orientation.

See Fig 27, showing East and South facing aspects slid between noon and 4pm, even though maximum direct, clear-sky solar radiation was between 9 and 11am

The slope with the more easterly aspect shows a definite time lag between maximum energy received and the beginning of avalanche activity.Looking at Fig 27 shows that there is almost no danger prior to 10am but significant danger between 10am and 4pm.

The spring cycle of 1973 occurred six weeks later in time, beginning on April 27 as opposed to March 15 of 1974. On the later date, 22% more solar energy is ideally available on a south-facing slope with an angle representative of actual release zones.

In other words, taking the date into consideration and the fact that this year was a banner year for snow, any snow that is left (and there's a lot left!) is receiving more solar energy this year than in years past where the wet slide season was earlier; ie a larger danger this year.

The occurrence of wet snow avalanches depends largely upon air temperatures, heat flux and water content in the snow. The usual period for widespread release of wet snow avalanches is spring when snow temperatures rise and melting begins as a function of the seasonal trend of air temperature. Since the initial requirement for a wet snow avalanche is melting temperatures through the bulk of the snowpack, systematic snow temperature measurements are essential in order to forecast the onset of wet snow conditions.

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Maybe I'm being a wuss, maybe I'm excessively cautious, but I think we got pretty lucky out there. I've since put it on my calendar to get avalanche certified when winter comes back. Here are some lessons learned / closing thoughts:

• Trees are good at stopping wind. Make sure to sleep near/below them for a good pre-climb rest.
  
• You don't know anything about spring snow until you've been on spring snow and been taught about spring snow. It can harm you just like a handgun or a motorcycle. Don't kid yourself.
• Luck is very helpful but should not be relied upon.
  
• Group outings are definitely harder to manage, and should be handled differently than a duo climb. Determine decision making criterion as a group before starting.
  
• Couloirs are loads of fun, but even the "beginner" ones demand respect.