Trips report — Hallett Peak and Spearhead
Hallett Peak (Great Dihedral, 5.7)
Last week, we went back to Rocky Mountain National Park to do Hallett Peak. Hallett Peak is a beautiful formation around the Emerald Lake, which I had actually spotted in my first visit to Emerald Lake a couple of weeks ago, while sitting by a tree eating snacks and being attacked by the chipmunks.
We left Boulder at 4:15am (Rob’s attempt at idiosyncratic decision-making) and were hiking right before 6:00am. The approach to Hallett is a short ~2–2.5 mile hike with just about 800 feet of elevation gain. More importantly, it’s a beautiful hike in. You get to see creeks, falls, lakes, and tons of vegetation. We even saw two elk hanging by the lake in the early morning. Also, unlike my previous excursion up Emerald Lake, the snow had almost fully melted.
We got to the base of the climb right around 7am, where we ran into a guided party, who thankfully was going up a different route. We settled on doing the Great Dihedral (at 5.7, a pretty moderate climb) with the intention of pitching it frequently. The first couple of pitches are completely unremarkable until you get to the climb proper. Then, we got three solid, sustained pitches of excellent feature and crack climbing. Rob did, as usual, an outstanding job of leading the route and providing feedback where possible. Given our emphasis on efficiency and minimizing transition time, I was psyched to see how we could get a belay transitioned in a matter of 2–3 minutes. Awesome.
After the solid climbing, we got to the big ledge before the scarily-named-but-straightforward-to-climb “headwall.” We wanted to go straight up, but the guided party was on our preferred route, and, given their struggles, we did not feel particularly excited about climbing right behind them. A little bit of weaving and wandering later, and we managed to pass them right before the final pitch, and it was on to the top of the climbing portion (~150 feet below the true summit). All in all, it took us about 3:45 to climb about 800 feet of vertical, so I was ecstatic, and so was Rob. Coming down was quite straightforward: Two rappels and some 3rd class scrambling to the base of the route.
Of note, I was feeling so good after the climb, that I even managed to hit the gym after we got back to Boulder.
Stats: ~2,300 ft. 4.85 miles.
Spearhead (North Ridge, 5.6)
For my final week in Boulder, Rob suggested that I choose a climb and lead the day top-to-bottom. We settle on the North Ridge of Spearhead, a beautiful route I had scoped before and really wanted to try. It’s a beautiful mountain, and the ridge is an equally beautiful line. The climb entailed a 7-mile approach and then 6–8 pitches of 5.6 climbing (~800 ft. of vertical). I’ve been leading for a year, but so far only in cragging situations, so I was both excited and slightly scared about the task ahead.
While I could write multiple posts about it, I’d just say that lead-climbing is, fundamentally, a mental sport. You are dragging the rope up, trying to do multiple things at once:
- Find the route — Obviously, you have done your homework before, but there’s nothing like being on the route itself to get you to think about route finding. Do I go left? Up a bit more?
- Find protection — While finding the route, you also want to find opportunities to place protection (what you then attach to the rope and — hopefully — holds your fall).
- Manage/accept/work with your fear/anxieties — As you are climbing, you are also working to manage your fear and your anxieties. If you suddenly find yourself 20 feet above your last piece of protection, that would mean, in the best of cases, a 40-foot fall if you slip. And a nasty one. Multiple fractures. Alternatively, you start questioning your ability to make moves that are well within them. In any event, this is the toughest part of lead climbing. Your head game.
- Climb — Oh. Yeah. You also need to climb.
As you can see, this is climbing at its best — challenges you, requires your full attention, and with high stakes. As with all mental sports, however, if you don’t practice it, it gets rusty. In my case, I hadn’t led anything for a month, as I’d been focused on cardio, efficiency and speed.
Thankfully, Phil Levin came to visit this past weekend, giving me the opportunity to get back into lead climbing (and spend quality time solving the world one commune and bottle of sake at a time!). We had a very productive three days, including a great climb up the White Whale (5.7) in Lumpy Ridge and a failed attempt at the First Flatiron, thwarted by a flash thunderstorm after the weather forecast showed “clear skies for the afternoon.” More so than technical leading, the weekend also showed me how far I’ve come in the broader aspects of climbing — Running approaches, managing time and tempo, transitions, weather, and quick decision-making.
With the weekend behind us, it was time for Spearhead. Rob and I met at our usual spot at 4am on Monday to drive up to the Park. We got to Glacier Gorge and were hiking out at 5:25am. My goal was to take ~3 hours on the approach (7 miles), and were off climbing at 8:50am or so. Surprisingly, we had the route to ourselves, which was great. I started up the first pitch, which has a bit of steepish start, before hitting a runout easy slab. I then headed up a left slot, getting us to the bottom of what I thought was the the third pitch on the route. Alas, that was not the case, and once I launched up it, I realized it ended on an exposed and gearless slab. Keeping my cool, I found a tricky and flaky traverse to the right and to a solid anchor (OK, maybe a solid alpine anchor). From there on, I found my rhythm, and we climb efficiently and relatively quickly. The next three pitches were a lot of fun. I climbed confidently, and the rock quality was outstanding. Most importantly, my head was in the right place — focused, calm, and having fun.
Unfortunately, clouds had started gathering as we went up, and as a result Rob and I decided to have him lead the last two pitches to get out before the storm. While admittedly a bit disappointing not to lead the route bottom-to-top, it was certainly the right decision. Absolutely no point on getting stranded with a thunderstorm for sport only. Rob was super supportive on this front, and, after blasting up the last couple of pitches, we were done with the roped section. Given the increasingly threatening clouds, we decided to skip the true summit and hike down. After a bit of mild route-finding, we found ourselves at the bottom of Spearhead. We then descended to the trail, taking a bit of a detour to avoid a group (pack? herd? team?) of female elk and their offspring who were in the way. Rob and I agreed it’d be so sad, and ridiculous, to avoid injury in the mountains only to get hoofed by a protective elk.
Another 2.5–3 hours on the way back, and it was over. Probably my favorite day so far. A totally enjoyable approach, a beautiful mountain, great climbing, and an uneventful descent. More importantly, we had a 10–12 hour day, and it didn’t feel like that. I guess that’s the whole point of training. I look back at the first long days in early May in the Cascades, and how tired I felt, and I can see massive improvement. Definitely a great way to wrap up my training in Boulder (OK, technically, we are headed up Green Mountain and the Flatirons again today). I’m feeling quite confident going into Peru and the Alps. First, though, a pit stop in NYC for a few days.
Stats: 4,000 ft. 14 miles.
