mavs00
New member
Okay, that might be an over-dramatization, but let's say, things didn't go according to plan. I generally don't write TR's anymore, unless there is something of interest or education, and this trip does qualify. We're up in Placid vacationing for the week and after a few hikes visiting old friends (46er hi-peaks), we thought we'd get in a HH peak. A few recent reports (written and verbal), spurred our (Nick and Mine) interest into hiking Calamity, via a slide on the SE side.
Ordinarily, it's about a 7 mile walk in up the "Hanging Spear" trail to get to the jump off spot, but thanks to the generosity of a good friend with club access, we were able to drive to within a mile of the jump-off spot. From there it's a paltry .85 miles bushwhacking/slide-climbing to the summit. Okay, it's a steep .85 (to the tune of just under 1600' climbing), but still for a couple seasoned bushwhackers like us, no sweat
. We would go up the slide, then either come back down the other side, or back down the slide, whatever we wanted. We had good beta and we're told to expect a leisurely 5-6 hour day. Scheduling issues had us hiking on August 2, 2007, quite possibly the hottest day of the year so far. The high temp in nearby Newcomb officially registered 91 degrees (1 shy of the record). However, my Kestrel 3000 was pinned between 92.5-93.5 all day. Not exactly prime bushwhacking/slide climbing temps. Oh well, no matter, sometimes life is like that.
By the time we'd made the drive back in there and were ready to go it was 10:30 AM. Me and Nick had gone over, pretty extensively, the signs for heat exhaustion and promised to monitor each other closely. The sweat was pouring off us just putting the packs on and getting started. Once we got on the trail towards the Opalescent and in the woods, it was better and we made quick time, and we soon found ourselves at the river. The recent dry spell made the crossing easy and before we knew it we're in the woods on the other side. Now things got interesting.
All we had to do was climb several hundred feet and side-slope to the right to reach the slide track. Once in the woods, which at 2200' were surprisingly thick with conifers, it was stifling, energy draining, HOT. It was too thick to zip out our pants and the dead air made for real slow progress. This side of the mountain is so steep that there was tons of dead fall, leaning downslope and the side-sloping was agonizingly slow and tiring. Finally, more than an hour (yeah, really) from leaving the car, we popped out onto the slide track about 100 up from the bottom. A long rest and hydration was in order, as we were both drenched and dirty.
The lower slide was a beauty. A wide ribbon of clean rock that was easy to climb and very grippy. It was about 400 vertical feet up to the first ledge. It was so nice to be out of the woods, but the rocks were steaming and there was only a whisper of a breeze to moderate the searing sun. We promised ourselves slow progress and many breaks. The views over to Cheney Cobble and the N. Rivers were stunning. Once you hit the ledge, you basically go back into the woods and have to follow grown over slide remnants and an (unfortunately) dry streambed. We did find one water spot we're we refilled (unfiltered). We were alarmed to find that we'd already gone through close to 2 Nalgene's each (2 hours into the hike).
We got a little off-course and had to correct left in the thick (seemed) woods, but eventually (at about 2850') we came out to the upper-slide. It's not really a slide at this point as much as it's a series of rock walls that must be negotiated. There seems to be two sides (a left and right) with a thick wooded section between them that acted as a bail-out to the really scary steep rocky parts. We took another long break in the trees before heading out. The rocks were fun and for comparison, I'd say they were steeper (with fewer handholds) then the Saddleback cliffs, with less exposure though. It was one of those experiences that you climb a section, then look back and say "Holy crap, I just climbed that". On any other day, it would be exhilarating. Today, both me and Nick were feeling a little "groggy" (him less then me). The only complaint was that the rocks were getting HOT and this was 4 pt. climbing. Great care was needed. Early on in the rocks, we both started to get that nagging, yet unspoken feeling in the back of our heads. Neither wanted to utter it aloud though.
The next pitch, I believe, was the steepest part of the rocks so far. As we kept climbing, each pitch required more thinking, more planning, just a bit more caution..... and in the back of our minds, still unspoken, a reverse plan on how to get back down them. We already separately decided that there was NO friggin way we were descending the other side. The thought of spending 2 hours slogging downhill, over blowdown IN THE WOODS in that heat was simply uncontemplatable. We both knew that everything we climbed, we'd have to down climb as well. With more care too.
At some point, we reached the top of one pitch and we're looking at another wall above us that looked like it might be the final pitch. I looked at the altimeter and were were at 3170', about 450 vertical feet below the summit. Looked at the watch and we'd been gone 3 hours. Taking stock, we both were mentally, physically okay and in good sprits (just hot and tired). So we'd done a good job moderating our efforts, but we were pretty spent and it had taken a LOOONG time to go .7 mile (~1400' feet). The summit was .2 miles and 450' above us. It was at least 1.5 hours away. We both were down to about 40 oz of water each with no way to resupply until well back down the mountain so we'd have to conserve hard from this point on. The Kestrel registered 93.6 degrees. I looked at Nick and he already knew what I was gonna say. The 16 y/o "I can overcome anything" in him registered mild protest but in the end we both knew the obvious. Turning back now, while physically in good enough shape to SAFELY get back down, was the more reasonable option than pressing on and putting ourselves in REAL danger of heatstroke, without water, with no safe way exit.
Once the decision was made, and our minds at ease...... We sat long on the rocks (close enough to the trees for shade) and gazed at what was out before us. The view was stunning. From Redfield, Allen, Cheney, the N. Rivers and beyond. It was breathtaking. After a while we got up and safely made our way back down. It got interesting in a few spots, but for the most part uneventful and quiet. We ended up following the slide track right down into the Opalescent flume, which required a nifty 35' shoot to the base and we found several deep (3'-5') pools. We couldn't get down to our skivvies fast enough. The cool water on our hot skin was just the tonic we needed to rejuvenate us.
There we were, a fit 16 y/o kid and his fat old man, in nothing but skivvies, splashing around in the cool rushing waters of the Opalescent flume with high 30-40' walls on either side of us in 93 degree heat. We were like 5 y/o's in a summer wave pool. It made the pain of not making the summit all the more easy to accept. After what seemed like forever, we got dressed and made our way back to our car a little more than 5 hours from first setting out.
All in all, both of us, despite the extreme conditions of the day, will look back on the day with fond memories. If not the heat and struggle, certainly the slide and swimming at the end. At 16, getting on 17, I know these days are probably numbered and soon all there will be is memories. But for now, I'll take what I can get, even an unsuccessful summit, so long as it's another day in the mountains with my favorite bushwhacking partner and best bud, Nick. I think he feels the same.
Besides, both of us look forward to making this hike on a reasonable weather day. It will actually not be that bad of a hike and we learned a great death that will help us out for next time.
A few -PICTURES-
Ordinarily, it's about a 7 mile walk in up the "Hanging Spear" trail to get to the jump off spot, but thanks to the generosity of a good friend with club access, we were able to drive to within a mile of the jump-off spot. From there it's a paltry .85 miles bushwhacking/slide-climbing to the summit. Okay, it's a steep .85 (to the tune of just under 1600' climbing), but still for a couple seasoned bushwhackers like us, no sweat
. We would go up the slide, then either come back down the other side, or back down the slide, whatever we wanted. We had good beta and we're told to expect a leisurely 5-6 hour day. Scheduling issues had us hiking on August 2, 2007, quite possibly the hottest day of the year so far. The high temp in nearby Newcomb officially registered 91 degrees (1 shy of the record). However, my Kestrel 3000 was pinned between 92.5-93.5 all day. Not exactly prime bushwhacking/slide climbing temps. Oh well, no matter, sometimes life is like that.By the time we'd made the drive back in there and were ready to go it was 10:30 AM. Me and Nick had gone over, pretty extensively, the signs for heat exhaustion and promised to monitor each other closely. The sweat was pouring off us just putting the packs on and getting started. Once we got on the trail towards the Opalescent and in the woods, it was better and we made quick time, and we soon found ourselves at the river. The recent dry spell made the crossing easy and before we knew it we're in the woods on the other side. Now things got interesting.
All we had to do was climb several hundred feet and side-slope to the right to reach the slide track. Once in the woods, which at 2200' were surprisingly thick with conifers, it was stifling, energy draining, HOT. It was too thick to zip out our pants and the dead air made for real slow progress. This side of the mountain is so steep that there was tons of dead fall, leaning downslope and the side-sloping was agonizingly slow and tiring. Finally, more than an hour (yeah, really) from leaving the car, we popped out onto the slide track about 100 up from the bottom. A long rest and hydration was in order, as we were both drenched and dirty.
The lower slide was a beauty. A wide ribbon of clean rock that was easy to climb and very grippy. It was about 400 vertical feet up to the first ledge. It was so nice to be out of the woods, but the rocks were steaming and there was only a whisper of a breeze to moderate the searing sun. We promised ourselves slow progress and many breaks. The views over to Cheney Cobble and the N. Rivers were stunning. Once you hit the ledge, you basically go back into the woods and have to follow grown over slide remnants and an (unfortunately) dry streambed. We did find one water spot we're we refilled (unfiltered). We were alarmed to find that we'd already gone through close to 2 Nalgene's each (2 hours into the hike).
We got a little off-course and had to correct left in the thick (seemed) woods, but eventually (at about 2850') we came out to the upper-slide. It's not really a slide at this point as much as it's a series of rock walls that must be negotiated. There seems to be two sides (a left and right) with a thick wooded section between them that acted as a bail-out to the really scary steep rocky parts. We took another long break in the trees before heading out. The rocks were fun and for comparison, I'd say they were steeper (with fewer handholds) then the Saddleback cliffs, with less exposure though. It was one of those experiences that you climb a section, then look back and say "Holy crap, I just climbed that". On any other day, it would be exhilarating. Today, both me and Nick were feeling a little "groggy" (him less then me). The only complaint was that the rocks were getting HOT and this was 4 pt. climbing. Great care was needed. Early on in the rocks, we both started to get that nagging, yet unspoken feeling in the back of our heads. Neither wanted to utter it aloud though.
The next pitch, I believe, was the steepest part of the rocks so far. As we kept climbing, each pitch required more thinking, more planning, just a bit more caution..... and in the back of our minds, still unspoken, a reverse plan on how to get back down them. We already separately decided that there was NO friggin way we were descending the other side. The thought of spending 2 hours slogging downhill, over blowdown IN THE WOODS in that heat was simply uncontemplatable. We both knew that everything we climbed, we'd have to down climb as well. With more care too.
At some point, we reached the top of one pitch and we're looking at another wall above us that looked like it might be the final pitch. I looked at the altimeter and were were at 3170', about 450 vertical feet below the summit. Looked at the watch and we'd been gone 3 hours. Taking stock, we both were mentally, physically okay and in good sprits (just hot and tired). So we'd done a good job moderating our efforts, but we were pretty spent and it had taken a LOOONG time to go .7 mile (~1400' feet). The summit was .2 miles and 450' above us. It was at least 1.5 hours away. We both were down to about 40 oz of water each with no way to resupply until well back down the mountain so we'd have to conserve hard from this point on. The Kestrel registered 93.6 degrees. I looked at Nick and he already knew what I was gonna say. The 16 y/o "I can overcome anything" in him registered mild protest but in the end we both knew the obvious. Turning back now, while physically in good enough shape to SAFELY get back down, was the more reasonable option than pressing on and putting ourselves in REAL danger of heatstroke, without water, with no safe way exit.
Once the decision was made, and our minds at ease...... We sat long on the rocks (close enough to the trees for shade) and gazed at what was out before us. The view was stunning. From Redfield, Allen, Cheney, the N. Rivers and beyond. It was breathtaking. After a while we got up and safely made our way back down. It got interesting in a few spots, but for the most part uneventful and quiet. We ended up following the slide track right down into the Opalescent flume, which required a nifty 35' shoot to the base and we found several deep (3'-5') pools. We couldn't get down to our skivvies fast enough. The cool water on our hot skin was just the tonic we needed to rejuvenate us.
There we were, a fit 16 y/o kid and his fat old man, in nothing but skivvies, splashing around in the cool rushing waters of the Opalescent flume with high 30-40' walls on either side of us in 93 degree heat. We were like 5 y/o's in a summer wave pool. It made the pain of not making the summit all the more easy to accept. After what seemed like forever, we got dressed and made our way back to our car a little more than 5 hours from first setting out.
All in all, both of us, despite the extreme conditions of the day, will look back on the day with fond memories. If not the heat and struggle, certainly the slide and swimming at the end. At 16, getting on 17, I know these days are probably numbered and soon all there will be is memories. But for now, I'll take what I can get, even an unsuccessful summit, so long as it's another day in the mountains with my favorite bushwhacking partner and best bud, Nick. I think he feels the same.
Besides, both of us look forward to making this hike on a reasonable weather day. It will actually not be that bad of a hike and we learned a great death that will help us out for next time.
A few -PICTURES-
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