making the most of the rainy season, part III

Wow, it has been a long time since I have updated here... If I remember correctly, there is still much to tell about the rainy season, so here goes.

In late May I took an Intermediate Snow course through CMC Boulder, which was a continuation of last year's Beginner Snow course. In Intermediate we learned how to use snow pro, roped travel, setup anchors, and self arrest with crampons. It built on Basic Snow and the Basic Rock School from earlier in the spring, and was a nice culmination to likely end my classes for a while. I now feel well equipped to safely travel up couloirs (for ski descents, of course). I really like the idea of snow travel as a means of ascent (avoiding the crowds and extending the climbing season), especially when combined with a ski descent (hence the Avy 1 class also). The next class I take will probably be Avy 2 and then eventually leading trad rock. After that, I think I am schooled out.

In early June I bouldered a bit on Mt. Sanitas right outside of Boulder. It was the first time I had really spent much time on Sanitas, and I have to say it surprised me. Maybe I wasn't in the beginner area, but I definitely thought the climbing would be easier. I've heard about tons of V0/V1 problems but didn't find too many when I was there. It was really busy but the rock was much kinder on my hands than Flagstaff is though, so it's a nice little outing in its own right.

A few weeks after Sanitas, I took a spur of the moment long weekend to the Telluride Bluegrass Festival. I went with the same friend I took up to Sanitas. We left Boulder on Wednesday after work and had what basically equates to 5 days of ridiculous debauchery in one of the most incredible settings on the planet. Let's just say that if there ever was a weekend where I put on a good Hunter S. Thompson impersonation, this, dear friends, was one of a select few, hence the leaving out of several details here. Before leaving Boulder we stopped at Liquor Mart for provisions, leaving town with a handful of bottles of beer, a 1.75L bottle of wine, a bottle of vodka, and two 12 packs of canned beer. Wednesday night we drove as far as we could before I started to get spooked of driving with all the deer on the side of the road. We got to Monarch Pass, where it was still very cold and snow was in our campsight. (Nothing like a little alcohol to take the chill out of the air...) We took our time getting going and got into Telluride around noon on Thursday. I hadn't been back to Telluride since I was a boy (middle school?) so this was a very nice reunion. The San Juans were simply stunning, with tons (tons!) of snow still on them. Most of the first day was spent drinking and unloading the Jeep while we set up our camp, finally seeing a few shows, and then head back to camp only to fall asleep and ultimately miss David Byrne's headline of the night. We made friends anyways, and ultimately did not go back to bed until the sun was coming up over the mountains. We slept under the dawn/stars and woke up to begin drinking again. We had a few beers for breakfast (which became the norm of the weekend) before we headed into town for the shows. We danced all day and I got a pretty good sunburn on my feet. That night Béla Fleck & Toumani Diabaté were definitely the highlight show of the weekend for me.

Every act we saw was fantastic though... it got to the point where I would stop checking the schedule, because it simply did not matter who was playing. Every band I knew put on a great show, and every band I didn't know encouraged me to check them out when I got home.

Saturday we woke to a completely different cold and rainy setting, so we headed into town for shelter... not to mention we had run out of beer. We reloaded at a nearby gas station and then headed to the bars. Most of the bars in town were packed, but we managed to find a corner where we watched an incredible dance-off by two of the drunkest people I've seen in recent memory. Ex:

We made our way back to the stage for Yonder Mountain, who were terrific as always, and during which I ran into another Boulderite... small world. The rest of the lineup that night was incredible, with Gaelic Storm capping roughly 10 hours of dancing. My legs were tired, and I was bummed going to bed because Sunday meant a long drive home back to responsibility. The 3am quesadillas helped ease the pain though :) Sunday we caught the first two shows, packed up our tent and headed back to Boulder. I was bummed we had to leave before Emmylou Harris played, but I knew we had to. We went home via I-70 instead of 285, and that made a truly wonderful Tour de Colorado. Photos of the weekend can be found at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157620431813195.

The weekend after Telluride Ryan, Allison, Brian and I hiked up La Plata via the Southwest Ridge. Ryan and I got our revenge after last year's Jeep-sinking 4th of July incident. It was our first new 14er of the year, and a lot of fun, although (this is the rainy season, after all) we did get rained on and had some nearby lightning. We actually ended up removing our packs to run quickly to the summit and claim our prize before a quick descent. I was happy to have made it down fairly dry, but will try to not cut it so close with the weather in the future. Photos of the outing are at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157620702598064/.

Lastly, Ryan and I tried to climb on 4th of July weekend in Boulder Canyon and got rained out. As soon as we reached the crag after some trailhead-finding troubles the clouds let rip with rain and lightning nearby. It looked something like:

I was happy just to head into town for some time at The Spot. The 4th of July truly seems cursed for us.

Thus concludes the rainy season. Bring on the snow season!!

making the most of the rainy season, part II: Tuning Fork couloir

After my hiatus mentioned at the end of the previous post, on May 30th I decided to employ my ice axe, crampons, and Avy 1 class lessons in an attempt of my first day of backcountry skiing (aside from the field trip in the avy class). I joined a coworker on his annual outing up to Torrey's Peak, a Front Range 14er which I've summited in the summer. Instead of the route from Steven's Gulch, we headed up Grizzly Gulch to Tuning Fork couloir with the objective of skiing the same route ascended. I felt safe knowing that both guys I was going with had done the exact route previously, that the season was getting late enough to have a nicely consolidated snowpack, and that we had an easy emergency bailout possible by simply clicking in and pointing downhill.

We all had beacon / shovel / probes just in case, but to be honest, my bigger concern was whether my cardio would allow me to keep up with guys in much better shape than I. My disadvantage was exaggerated by not having an AT or tele setup, so I climbed in mountaineering boots with both my alpine skis and alpine boots on my back instead of just wearing my ski boots for the climb (... let's just say that I am now acutely aware that my alpine boots weigh 10 lbs). I was extremely excited but in all honesty, because of this, I had really low expectations of actually making it to the top and was resolved to be content with however the day turned out.

We left Darren's house in Golden around 5:15am and headed towards the Bakerville exit. Rob's Land Rover made quick work of the 4WD road, and we hit the trail with clear skies. After a little bit of routefinding, stream crossing, and postholing, we made it to the steeper section where you gain the bench that is effectively the apron of the couloir. Apparently I hadn't eaten enough for breakfast, because in between the time that we put on our crampons and reaching the top of the bench (just a few minutes) at ~11,400' my stomach dropped and I was completely out of steam. I started in on my lunch before starting the couloir (and the climb in earnest). After a few minutes' delay, I was off, trailing behind Darren and Rob but making progress.

I got into a decent rhythm of "plant ice axe, step, step, repeat" and slowly formed the opinion that this was the true way to fully experience a mountain.

After a while clouds started to roll in, and it seemed like making it to the top would not be possible. We pressed on knowing that a quick getaway was easy, but apparently only averaging about 500' elevation gain / hour. In the end this proved too slow, and we were turned around somewhere around 12,600' having climbing only about halfway up the couloir. As the graupel began to fall, we moved skis from packs to feet and headed down. I hadn't realized how exhausted I was until I tried to make a few turns. My legs were absolute mush. (Note to self: leave enough gas in the tank to be able to let 'er rip next time.) I made it down OK, but wasn't able to fully enjoy the descent because of the condition of my legs. Darren's video of me tells the tale... embarrassing. If I had been fresher, those may have been my funnest tracks yet... they were easily my hardest earned ones. I will definitely be returning to complete the journey in seasons to come.

Hopefully without putting too much emphasis on these points, I'd like to also point out that I personally consider this a foray into more legitimate mountaineering (I don't really count the glissade of Cristo couloir), as well as a deviation from previous 14er outings where the main objective was the summit. I was climbing on this occasion not primarily to make it to the top, but to reap the rewards of the climb on the descent. I wasn't hiking to the top to check a mountain off of a to-do list. (I had already been to the top of Torrey's, after all. I've talked to this before, so I won't dwell...) I'm not about to suggest that all my previous 14er outings have been boring aside from the summit photo (completely the opposite), but still, this day seemed like a progression in my mountain experience, or whatever you want to call it, and it felt very good. The climb was extremely interesting in its own right, and wasn't just a means to an end. I was thrilled to be using my axe and crampons instead of following a train of backpacks up a relatively straightforward trail. What little couloir kool-aid the day provided was more than enough to plant the seed for an addiction to climbing couloirs and skiing them... or getting off-piste turns at the very least.

This was one of the most rewarding days on a 14er I've had, despite not summiting. I re-learned that eating, timing of nutrition, and mental clarity are hugely important in these kind of outings. I have also officially decided to do something about my crappy lungs. I'm not going to allow myself to just be the slow one in the group anymore. If I am serious about intense exertion at high altitute, I need to get my lungs in better shape, and so I will. My photos of the outing are at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157618945111321.

making the most of the rainy season

I've been slacking on keeping you, the loyal reader, up to date here. Sooooooooooo here goes. From mid-April through May:

After April powder I moved on to April rain at lower elevation. I took the Basic Rock class through the Boulder CMC. We had 2 night classes during the week and then 3 consecutive Saturday field trips. It turns out that all 3 of our Saturdays were either rainy or snowy, so we didn't actually get much climbing in, but I still learned a decent amount. I still can't lead and don't have much knowledge about building anchors, but at least now I can second multipitch, prussik up something I can't climb, rappel around a knot, tie you off if you break your leg as my leader, and get myself out of a system to go get help.

The following Saturday actually wasn't too rainy, so I went climbing with Ryan, Tony, and Joe as part of Ryan's bachelor party/day. We went up to Mt. Boner in the Ironclads area for some top-roping. I led my first sport route, a 5.6,

and for some reason got spooked when it was time to come down. A bit embarrassing. I recovered by climbing a 5.10b. Considering I hadn't (and still haven't) climbed 5.9 outside before, I was a bit surprised to have made it to the top. It was a short route, and I might not have done it exactly right, but either way, it was a fun climb. Apparently my sessions at The Spot have been paying off. A few guys from work and I were recently wondering how hard we could climb outside, so I guess we'll have to see if I can actually climb 5.10 again soon. The rest of the photos from the Ironclads outing are available at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157617844291613.

The weekend after climbing outside was Ryan's and Allison's wedding, so I hosted 3 friends from college in my 1 bedroom castle in Boulder. It was the first time Ryan, me, and those 3 had been together since graduating from Miami, so that was fun. I have no idea who out of the 5 of us is going to get married next, but hopefully it won't be another 6 years before we find ourselves at the same place/time again. The weather for the wedding was very pleasant, the setting was perfect, and overall the day went great. I gave my second Best Man speech (which went well) and had a really good time catching up with everybody. I'm sure Ryan will have more photos and details on his blog soon, so I'll let him tell the whole story there...

The next weekend I decided that after spending the last 6 weekends out of Boulder, I would stay in town. I did nothing (well, caught up a lot of stuff around the house...), and it too was wonderful. Sometimes you just gotta rest.

sense of place and the affects on the individual

At Miami my Thematic Sequence was about conservation. In the last class our final project was to write a paper or create a project about Sense of Place. I really didn't understand the goal of the project until I was almost finished with mine, and could do a far better job now... 6 years later. (Have I really been out of school for 6 years? Yikes.) As I drove home from Denver a few nights ago I was struck with a bizarre yet interesting (to me, at least) realization that a lot of music (American or otherwise) reveals with amazing accuracy a person's sense of place. Hopefully this doesn't sound arrogant, but I really feel like I could describe a songwriter's relationship with their local geography, even if I'd never heard the song, with pretty good accuracy. It is actually a common theme that an artist conveys their surroundings more than they might realize? Or is it intentional? Maybe it's a reflection that as a musician you express what you know/see/feel best. I guess that makes sense; unless you were hoping to make a very specific statement that was the opposite of what you were surrounded by, that's exactly what you would do. A few examples are probably needed here.

• Listen to any (ANY) Lynyrd Skynyrd song. You can practically smell the bayou, the whiskey and crawfish,
• It is impossible to separate the Red Hot Chili Peppers from California. I can almost feel the Pacific and the southern California sun beating down on my face.
• Grab your nearest Andean pan flute album and tell me you can't feel the damp clouds rolling in over the lush mountain valleys. (Liar!)
• What does the Jamaican state of mind sound like? Queue up the Bob Marley album of choice.

This made me think about what else reflects that we, to a certain degree, are a product of our surroundings. Vocabulary and hobbies are a few examples. I wonder what interests would occupy my free time if I didn't live in Boulder or hadn't been exposed to the Rockies at an early enough age to pine for their bounty. If I grew up on the Pacific coast, for example, would I have an interest in sea kayaking but care less about skiing? If I grew up in Australia would I have a passion for scuba and detest winter?

late season resort powder!!!

A few weeks ago Colorado had a really nice system come through that dropped good late season snow across the whole state.  Since I felt like I hadn't had a really sick powder day this season, I watched the forecast and kept an eye on the storm until I decided Thursday was the day to head up to the hills.  I called off work and went to Breck for what was largely considered to be the best day of the season there.  It was one of those days where the lightly falling snow muffled every sound except the euphoric involuntary screaming of [Wahoo! / Yeeeahhh! / Sick!], heard in the distance ...which you found yourself repeating after you got off the T-Bar and dropping in to discover it was so deep you couldn't see your skis, boots, or even knees at times (... followed up with Matthew McConaughey's high pitched stoned giggle a la Dazed And Confused...).  Spring skiing felt really good.  Here's a little story / lesson learned though:

Before one of my laps on Boundary Chutes (untracked trees, steep but so deep you hardly need to turn to maintain safe speed) I'm on the cat track and this guy comes down from George's Thumb bowl talking about how he might have been dreaming, but could swear it was up to his waist at one point.  His wife confirms.  I think to myself, (a) that's ridiculous, they have to be messing with me, or (b) waist deep would be the most erotic snow experience of my life, so what if they're telling the truth?  I decide to call an audible and check it out.  When I get back to the top of the T-Bar, I cut over and take the Imperial lift to the top.  It wasn't too windy, but blowing over the ridge into George's Thumb bowl.  I start to believe the wind could actually make waist deep a reality.  When I got to the other side of the ridge, the wind changed directions.  I was overtaken by what I believe was the hardest gust of wind I've ever experienced.  I stopped when the next pole marking my cat track disappeared into the whiteout, probably only 20 feet away.  After about 30 seconds, which felt like an eternity, even with wearing a neck/nose gaitor, the windward side of my face was completely numb.  I buried my face in my armpit - only to expose an unzipped pocket that I later discovered was unzipped and had a baseball sized ball of snow in it from this 30 seconds... I had a mini-panic attack thinking that the wind was not going to stop so I had to get back to the trees but I couldn't see to get down safely.  I literally could not see past my skis in the whiteout but I decided to just go for it and drop in where I was.. and nearly took a fall into a 10 ft natural quarter pipe (the wind eventually let up).  Once I did get my bearings I made it down just fine, discovering that it indeed was deeper, but not quite waist deep.  That's just silly (although I did share the T-Bar with a girl who told me her little sister was over her belly button in Blue Sky the day before, and she seemed to be telling the truth).  Lesson learned: the grass is not always greener.  After that I had windburn so bad that the right side of my face actually peeled like a sunburn.  Crazy.

I couldn't get up to the mountains in the weekend after Thursday, but was able to head up the following weekend.  On the 4th Ryan and I headed to Salida on Friday night to use our free day at Monarch (thanks Gems card!).  It had been snowing by the foot in the Sawatch range all week, and I had heard good things about Monarch, so I was very excited.  Monarch did NOT disappoint.  When we woke up on Saturday they were reporting 6" of fresh overnight, so we hurried up to get as many fresh tracks as possible.  Holy cow.  Even the main runs were fairly untracked.   After several laps with Ryan, I headed off to the hike-to terrain to see what kind of trouble I could get into.  After about 10 minutes of hiking I was simply too excited and just dropped into what I could see hadn't really been touched.  It was like sand dune fresh powder up to the knees.  I was beside myself!  I had to stop to take some pictures to remember it.  Ex:

After my first lap through this goodness I skied back over to Ryan to give him a chance to enjoy the powder.  The long story short there is that one day in the future he will look back on the experience with excitement... but that might be a while.  I think next time when it's that deep he'll bring his skies instead of snowboard.  Ahh well.  The whole Monarch set can be found at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157616676291062.  

The next day I went up to Eldora after hearing how good the snow was up there in the glades.  I skied with a friend from my Avy 1 class, and was not disappointed yet again.  I had heard about how terribly icy the skiing at Eldora usually is, but that was definitely not a problem after a foot of fresh snow.  We were able to find some decent stashes in the glades even a few days after the storm.  Note to self: check out Bryan Gully at the bottom of Bryan Glades again... that was the first time this season I had skied two days in a row, so I was tired on Monday, but it was really worth it.  

This season is finishing on a really good note.  I'm going to be climbing the next 3 Saturdays, but if I can myself out for some more skiing in May or June, I'll be really happy with how this season finished.