Cathedral Peak / Mount Russell
Ascent of Cathedral Peak (Southeast Buttress, II 5.7), and failed ascent of Mount Russell (Fishhook Arête, III 5.8), with Alberto Alesina, June 2-6, 2004
Timeline:
June 2, 2004. Cathedral Peak: Driving up from the Bay Area on the afternoon of June 1, Alberto and I settled down for a hearty dinner and a comfortable night at the Tioga Pass resort. We were up bright and early for breakfast the next day, and started off from Tuolumne Meadows along Budd Creek around 8:30. After fighting off swarms of mosquitoes at the trailhead, and an otherwise uneventful approach to the base of the Southeast Buttress, we started climbing around 10:00. There was one other party starting up the route, three Forest Service employees with whom we shared the route and some good conversations. They simulclimbed most of the route, while we wanted to belay all pitches and practice our rope management skills in preparation for the Fishhook Arête. In the end we climbed the route at exactly the same pace as the other party, so we were together most of the time, starting to their right and crossing over to their left below the chimney pitch (we basically followed Route B of the SuperTopo). Alberto took the first lead, and we alternated leads so that he kept the odd numbered pitches and I got all the even numbered ones. Atop pitch 3, the other party chose to climb the chimney, and in order to avoid a wait, we opted for the 5.7 golden knobs face to its left. So after climbing this route twice, I still haven't climbed the chimney! (Lanier and I had opted for a similar variation the first time I climbed it in August 2002). The climb was perfect and went very smoothly. We reached the summit around 1 pm, and enjoyed the views for a good half hour. Two other parties had started climbing after us, and were making rapid progress. One of the other people claimed to have climbed the Southeast Buttress over 30 times...
On the descent, there was a lot of snow in the Northeast facing bowl behind the summit. We followed the crest that links Cathedral to Eichorn pinnacle - which has some pretty awesome exposure - in order to avoid the snow, and then made our way back up to the top of the descent route. The other party had decided to climb Eichorn Pinnacle, which made for a nice photo opportunity. We took our time on the descent and hike back, reaching the car at 16:00. Driving to Mammoth, we checked in at the Rodeway Inn and went for a nice dinner and beers in town... We made our packs for the next day, dividing all the gear, and spent another comfortable night acclimatizing.
June 3-4, 2004. Approach to Iceberg Lake: Our day started a bit later than we had anticipated. After loading the car, we drove South on I-395 hoping to reach Lone Pine by 8:30. But the lure of a big breakfast at Jack's in Bishop was too hard to resist... we didn't get started up the North Fork of Lone Pine Creek until 10:00. Reaching Clyde Meadows in the early hours of the afternoon after a strenuous hike up to Lower Boy Scout Lake (including a long lunch and nap there), we decided to set up camp in the trees below Upper Boy Scout Lake and spend June 4 as a rest day at Iceberg Lake. The next morning, we hiked up leisurely to Iceberg Lake, a beautiful hike along the North side of Pinnacle Ridge at the foot of Mount Whitney and the Needles. Since we were alone at Iceberg Lake, we had a large choice of campsites to choose from, and picked a comfortable one. A couple from Japan and Taiwan later arrived - they had camped a few yards away from us at Upper Boyscout Lake the previous day and intended to climb the East Buttress of Whitney the next day. There was no shade at Iceberg Lake and we set up a shaded shelter with the fly of our tent, under which we spent the entire afternoon dozing off and talking.
June 5, 2004. The Climb: Since we knew that climbing the Fishhook Arête would take us to the limit of our leading abilities, we decided to start very early on the morning of June 5th. We were up at 5:00, enjoyed the alpenglow on Mount Whitney and the Needles, were out of camp by 6:00 and at the base of the arête by 7:30. Approaching the arête, it was clear there were several options for the start. One option was to follow the SuperTopo and climb a 5.9 crack on the south side of the arête. This seemed hard and exposed to us. Another alternative was to hike to the base of the arête and start climbing there, avoiding the initial difficulties by dropping down slightly on its left side. We chose the latter option, which seemed easier at first though we knew the climbing was also rated 5.8-5.9.
Alberto took the first lead for a very short pitch of mostly 4th class rock, and we alternated leads for another two short but harder pitches (5.6?). In retrospect we probably could have run these first three pitches as two longer pitches. When time came for me to lead the fourth pitch, we knew we really needed to get back on the arête proper. We were just a few feet below it, but still on the left side, where we knew the climbing would progressively get more difficult. Unfortunately, the fourth pitch proved quite hard for me to lead, with several sections of 5.8-5.9 climbing. Every time I tried to climb up to the arête, an easier way opened up on the left and I would follow the path of least resistance. I ran the pitch for the whole length of the rope, placing 6 or 7 pieces only. The pitch had it all: cracks, face, roofs, you name it. The crux was a roof move with a weird right hand and no left where I almost fell (it had good pro, though).
Alberto yelled several times for me to regain the arête, when I saw above me what appeared to be an easy way to reach it. That's when I ran out of rope, and I set up a belay on a small ledge where a previous party had abandoned a small stopper lodged in a crack (this reassured us we were not woefully off route). I clipped the stopper, placed a bomber tricam to back it up, building a solid anchor, and called for Alberto to start climbing. By then it was maybe 10:00. The pitch was hard and it took some time for him to reach me. He also took a fall on second at the crux - but the anchor did not bulge. When he reached me on the ledge, we were both quite pumped, but we thought the hardest part was behind us. I announced it was his turn to lead, staring at an awkward dihedral to our right. It looked like perhaps a 5.7 move to us, after which things got easier and the arête could be gained - we saw the morning sun cresting the arête, so we could tell it was right there. Alberto thought he's have no difficulties getting through the move. Before he left, we readjusted the anchor, adding a red cam to build a more reliable three-piece anchor. I was not too happy with how equalized the anchor was, because the pieces were clipped with separate slings rather than a single equalized cordelette as I generally prefer. But Alberto took off, trying to climb the awkward crack/dihedral. Reaching about 7 feet up, he almost pulled through the hard part when he yelled "falling!!!"
I was right beneath him, and tried my best to get out of the way on the small ledge. He fell head back to my left, his head avoiding the ledge by an inch. It was a short fall - no more than 15 feet - but a scary one since it happened right above the anchor and onto the ledge. I was staring at the anchor all the while, and yanking the rope over the belay device to arrest Alberto's fall. As Alberto fell, I saw the small abandoned stopper that I had clipped pull out, and the red tricam bearing all the load. Alberto got badly scratched pretty much everywhere on his body, but nothing broken. He regained the ledge (soon generously splattered with the blood dripping profusely from his scratches) and clipped back in what remained of the anchor.
The fall took a toll on both of us, especially on Alberto. The fact that a piece had pulled out from the anchor only made matters worse. We started worrying, realizing that we would have both been sent down to our deaths if the other pieces in the anchor (chiefly the tricam) had not held. At the same time, due to the curving nature of the arête, it was unclear to us how we could rappel down from our ledge. The first thing we did was to try to calm down from our state of semi-panic. The second thing we did was to rebuild the anchor - placing a large blue cam and equalizing everything solidly with a cordelette. At that point I was fully confident in the anchor, so at least we were not going anywhere. We decided the safest way to proceed would be to try to climb up rather than rappel down. If we could reach the ridge and climb just a short way up to the notch that marks the half-way mark of the Fishhook Arête, we would be almost home free: from there, a single rappel to the scree slope below would afford an easy retreat (it was clear to us by then that we would not complete the route that day). I attempted to lead up a ramp to the left of our ledge, but it proved too difficult. In retrospect, it probably was well within our climbing abilities, but by then we were too spooked to climb anything harder than 5.6. At this point it was probably close to noon, and we had spent a lot of time on this ledge.
It became clear we were not going to be able to climb up, and we faced the prospect of an awkward rappel down the same way we came. Alberto was spent and I was scared, and I knew that setting up multiple rappels would create many opportunities for possibly fatal mistakes. So I took an inordinate amount of time setting up the rappels (four in total), checking and double checking the slings, generously abandoning carabiners at each station to make sure the rope would be retrievable smoothly (in all, we abandoned one tricam, three carabiners and three slings - lucky will be the climbers that follow!). Alberto always went first, and would create an anchor of sorts every time he would reach the end of a rappel. At one point the gear he was carrying had become such a tangled mess that I called for another long stop to get it all re-racked. We needed to regain our composure.
Finally reaching the toe of the arête around 13:30, we took a long lunch break, took in the beautiful view of the North Face of Mount Whitney, and packed all our gear. We started hiking slowly back to our camp, which we reached at 16:00. A few hours later, at sundown, the two japano-taiwanese climbers stumbled back into camp, victorious after their ascent of the East Buttress.
June 6, 2004. Hiking out: Hoping to reach Whitney Portal by lunchtime, we left Iceberg Lake at 8:00 on Sunday morning, June 6. Weekenders who had camped at Upper Boy Scout Lake were starting to stream into the area on their way to climbing the Mountaineer's route on Mount Whitney. Our descent was uneventful, it was a beautiful day and I felt strong after five days spent at elevation. After a lunch break at Lower Boy Scout Lake, we resumed our descent, down the Ebersbacher Ledges, crossing the roaring stream twice, and reaching the Portal around 13:00. We SUV'd our way through the maze of dirt roads that crosses the Alabama Hills, ate a huge lunch in Lone Pine, and drove to Santa Barbara, reaching town in time for dinner.