Jeff (Stoney) and I wanted to climb a Class 5 peak while we were out in Colorado for Labor Day Weekend, so we planned on checking out The Sharkstooth. It was appealing to me because it has the distinction of being one of the few officially named peaks in Rocky Mountain National Park that has no walk up route. The Sharkstooth is just east of the Continental Divide in the Glacier Gorge area of The Park and is the highest of the Cathedral Spires, a group of pinnacles on the rugged ridge that separates Loch Vale from the narrow gorge known as The Gash. (brought to you by SummitPost). The Sharkstooth has a few moderate routes that top out at its 12,630 foot summit. The classic of these is the 6-pitch Northeast Ridge Route (5.6) and our route of choice.
After running around on Saturday picking up the bivouac permit, grocery shopping and playing around at a local rock climbing venue in Estes Park, we drove out to Glacier Gorge Trailhead at 5 p.m. Like clockwork, a nasty thunderstorm rolled through so we sat tight about 45 minutes hoping the hail wouldn’t damage the rental car. It passed by and the weather looked like it was starting to improve so around 6 p.m. we hiked in with our overnight gear.
It was a beautiful hike in as we passed by a few waterfalls and splendid views. Loch Vale was highlight of the evening and we reached it just as the sun was setting. About 4 miles in, we passed by Andrews Creek campsite and decided to go just a bit further up the trail to set up our own camp at around 10,000 feet. We didn’t want to try and negotiate The Gash and talus field in the dark and I was starting to run out of energy and needed dinner. So around 8:30 p.m. we were cooking up dinner and settling in for the night. The weather vastly improved and the stars were shining and around 9-9:30 the moon rose making the night extraordinarily bright.
We woke up around 4:30 a.m. and began cooking breakfast, stashing our bivy gear and packing up our climbing day packs. Tall pines and taller rocky cliff walls were our backdrop as we ate, relaxed and packed. We hit the trail just before 6 a.m. under a rising sun and setting moon. Then there she was. We rounded a corner and I saw the summit of the sharp towering spire come into view glowing amber from the early morning sun.
Once we reached The Gash, the sun was up and the rocks turned from their friendly amber glow into a slightly menacing grey. Here we could see the rather intimidating mountain and the tough approach ahead. The Northeast Ridge was clearly visible to us now. We cut off the trail and started our approach through the boulder/talus field. It was slow negotiating the boulders and we stopped several times to try and pick the best route. We headed right around some cliffs and up through a small ravine staying right of a snowfield. The Northeast Ridge started on a small ledge above the large bottom obvious ledge, in which we needed to spend time scrambling up off the left to get around. We reached the base of the climb around 8:30 a.m.
Since thunderstorms were the major concern here, we wanted to be as efficient as possible. A nice bluebird morning quickly turns into a threatening weather system as we began to understand just by spending one day in Colorado. It’s recommended to summit by noon and then get the hell of the dodge. This route (as with most rock alpine routes) is an exposed and committed route. Once you start up you need to see it through because it’ll take just as much time if not more trying to bail off. I can’t imagine how nasty it would be on a route like that once the weather started to turn.
Jeff would lead the whole route - we didn’t need to discuss it. If I tried to lead a pitch it would have taken more than twice as long. I was looking forward for this be Jeff’s climb anyway and I would happily be his belay up.
Pitch 1 (5.5): We geared up and began the first pitch around 9:00 a.m. There are a few options to choose from. Some climbers started from an obvious moss-ridden dihedral, but we choose to start 100 feet to the right where there were some nice large flakes. Half-way up there was a bit of route finding, but once Jeff spotted a good way to go he climbed up to a nice belay station and anchored in. I started up and the pitch felt like a 5.5 although with the altitude, I was panting like a dog. The air was so dry, it immediately felt like someone shoved a bunch of dried out leaves in my mouth and I hadn’t drank for days. I reached the anchor and we checked the time. It had been an hour, now at 10:00 a.m. If it took an hour a pitch we’d top out well after noon and we just have to hope the weather would hold.
Pitch 2 and 3 (5.6-5.6): The climb started out vertical, as would most of the route. A wide stem-out in a shallow chimney and then Jeff was out of sight. About 30 minutes would pass and I fed him rope a foot at a time until the rope began to run out. I’d radio to him the halfway point when it came at every pitch. Now this time I radioed, “20 feet” “10 feet” “out of rope”. Jeff was searching for a good belay ledge. He had to settle for a sketchy anchor spot and put me on belay. I broke down my anchor and began up. Unfortunately I couldn’t clean his blue cam and I tried every which way with my fingers, the nut tool, pumping myself out. Due to time and my sore muscles I had to leave the poor guy behind. I worked my way up the vertical face until I reached a piece of webbing around a rock horn. Jeff radioed to me to stop there and anchor in so he could continue up another 25 feet to a better belay station. We did that and then I finished off the second/third pitch.
I don’t remember the specifics of this pitch but I do remember that the weather got my attention. As I was belaying Jeff up the third pitch, I heard a few rumbles and behind me was a thunderstorm about 5-10 miles away. I kept a close eye on its direction, but it didn’t look like it was moving. Then out of nowhere it started to snow flurry. The moisture made me nervous, but it stopped after 10 minutes. Another rumble of thunder and Jeff and I discussed the plan of action over the radio. We decided to continue up. I left a piece of webbing for a possible get-the-hell-off-this-mountain-as-quick-as-possible rappel down.
Heading up Pitch 3 took a turn around a corner to a large, thin face. At first I didn’t even see anything to hold on to, but I stretched up at the extent of my reach and there was a beautiful in-cut. I started up and saw the next pro about 30 feet up. It was a long run-out and a bold lead by Jeff. I was very impressed. The face was tricky and this was my only peel-off during the entire climb. Jeff held my fall easily and I swung just a bit to my left and needed to muscle my way back on route.
Pitch 4 and 5 (5.5-5.6): The route began to really feel like we were on a ridge, because it started to narrow. Every time I looked up it felt like I was climbing a pinnacle. The entire route was very consistent – vertical but great climbing, always a hold when you needed it, but you had to have a little technique to get there. I’m a 5.7-5.8 follow climber on my best day, so adding in the enormous exposure and long vertical pitches, this 5.6 climb demanded my full attention. Oh, did I mention the views were awesome?
Short video from the belay ledge after Pitch 4
Twice there was a drop down into a small little col and then a vertical. Pitch 5’s vertical also came with an off-width crack (photo taken just above the crack). I’ve read about the off-width through various trip reports and wasn’t looking forward to it. Now, I was staring at it, catching my breath and looking at another thunderstorm that was off to my right. Luckily the previous one blew off in the other direction. This one was a little bigger. Another impressive lead by Jeff. He’d found a chockstone inside the crack to throw a sling around, but otherwise it was a run-out up the large crack before he could find another pro placement. After a moment of deliberation, I started up. Knee jams, foot jams, arm jam – I muscled up. About twenty feet up, found some nice in-cuts on the outside of the crack to grab on to and the climbing eased up slightly. Ahh, the best part of my day when climbing is getting up over a bulge and seeing Jeff. I mean, we do spend at least ¾ of the day out of sight of each other.
(continued)..
After running around on Saturday picking up the bivouac permit, grocery shopping and playing around at a local rock climbing venue in Estes Park, we drove out to Glacier Gorge Trailhead at 5 p.m. Like clockwork, a nasty thunderstorm rolled through so we sat tight about 45 minutes hoping the hail wouldn’t damage the rental car. It passed by and the weather looked like it was starting to improve so around 6 p.m. we hiked in with our overnight gear.
It was a beautiful hike in as we passed by a few waterfalls and splendid views. Loch Vale was highlight of the evening and we reached it just as the sun was setting. About 4 miles in, we passed by Andrews Creek campsite and decided to go just a bit further up the trail to set up our own camp at around 10,000 feet. We didn’t want to try and negotiate The Gash and talus field in the dark and I was starting to run out of energy and needed dinner. So around 8:30 p.m. we were cooking up dinner and settling in for the night. The weather vastly improved and the stars were shining and around 9-9:30 the moon rose making the night extraordinarily bright.
We woke up around 4:30 a.m. and began cooking breakfast, stashing our bivy gear and packing up our climbing day packs. Tall pines and taller rocky cliff walls were our backdrop as we ate, relaxed and packed. We hit the trail just before 6 a.m. under a rising sun and setting moon. Then there she was. We rounded a corner and I saw the summit of the sharp towering spire come into view glowing amber from the early morning sun.
Once we reached The Gash, the sun was up and the rocks turned from their friendly amber glow into a slightly menacing grey. Here we could see the rather intimidating mountain and the tough approach ahead. The Northeast Ridge was clearly visible to us now. We cut off the trail and started our approach through the boulder/talus field. It was slow negotiating the boulders and we stopped several times to try and pick the best route. We headed right around some cliffs and up through a small ravine staying right of a snowfield. The Northeast Ridge started on a small ledge above the large bottom obvious ledge, in which we needed to spend time scrambling up off the left to get around. We reached the base of the climb around 8:30 a.m.
Since thunderstorms were the major concern here, we wanted to be as efficient as possible. A nice bluebird morning quickly turns into a threatening weather system as we began to understand just by spending one day in Colorado. It’s recommended to summit by noon and then get the hell of the dodge. This route (as with most rock alpine routes) is an exposed and committed route. Once you start up you need to see it through because it’ll take just as much time if not more trying to bail off. I can’t imagine how nasty it would be on a route like that once the weather started to turn.
Jeff would lead the whole route - we didn’t need to discuss it. If I tried to lead a pitch it would have taken more than twice as long. I was looking forward for this be Jeff’s climb anyway and I would happily be his belay up.
Pitch 1 (5.5): We geared up and began the first pitch around 9:00 a.m. There are a few options to choose from. Some climbers started from an obvious moss-ridden dihedral, but we choose to start 100 feet to the right where there were some nice large flakes. Half-way up there was a bit of route finding, but once Jeff spotted a good way to go he climbed up to a nice belay station and anchored in. I started up and the pitch felt like a 5.5 although with the altitude, I was panting like a dog. The air was so dry, it immediately felt like someone shoved a bunch of dried out leaves in my mouth and I hadn’t drank for days. I reached the anchor and we checked the time. It had been an hour, now at 10:00 a.m. If it took an hour a pitch we’d top out well after noon and we just have to hope the weather would hold.
Pitch 2 and 3 (5.6-5.6): The climb started out vertical, as would most of the route. A wide stem-out in a shallow chimney and then Jeff was out of sight. About 30 minutes would pass and I fed him rope a foot at a time until the rope began to run out. I’d radio to him the halfway point when it came at every pitch. Now this time I radioed, “20 feet” “10 feet” “out of rope”. Jeff was searching for a good belay ledge. He had to settle for a sketchy anchor spot and put me on belay. I broke down my anchor and began up. Unfortunately I couldn’t clean his blue cam and I tried every which way with my fingers, the nut tool, pumping myself out. Due to time and my sore muscles I had to leave the poor guy behind. I worked my way up the vertical face until I reached a piece of webbing around a rock horn. Jeff radioed to me to stop there and anchor in so he could continue up another 25 feet to a better belay station. We did that and then I finished off the second/third pitch.
I don’t remember the specifics of this pitch but I do remember that the weather got my attention. As I was belaying Jeff up the third pitch, I heard a few rumbles and behind me was a thunderstorm about 5-10 miles away. I kept a close eye on its direction, but it didn’t look like it was moving. Then out of nowhere it started to snow flurry. The moisture made me nervous, but it stopped after 10 minutes. Another rumble of thunder and Jeff and I discussed the plan of action over the radio. We decided to continue up. I left a piece of webbing for a possible get-the-hell-off-this-mountain-as-quick-as-possible rappel down.
Heading up Pitch 3 took a turn around a corner to a large, thin face. At first I didn’t even see anything to hold on to, but I stretched up at the extent of my reach and there was a beautiful in-cut. I started up and saw the next pro about 30 feet up. It was a long run-out and a bold lead by Jeff. I was very impressed. The face was tricky and this was my only peel-off during the entire climb. Jeff held my fall easily and I swung just a bit to my left and needed to muscle my way back on route.
Pitch 4 and 5 (5.5-5.6): The route began to really feel like we were on a ridge, because it started to narrow. Every time I looked up it felt like I was climbing a pinnacle. The entire route was very consistent – vertical but great climbing, always a hold when you needed it, but you had to have a little technique to get there. I’m a 5.7-5.8 follow climber on my best day, so adding in the enormous exposure and long vertical pitches, this 5.6 climb demanded my full attention. Oh, did I mention the views were awesome?
Short video from the belay ledge after Pitch 4
Twice there was a drop down into a small little col and then a vertical. Pitch 5’s vertical also came with an off-width crack (photo taken just above the crack). I’ve read about the off-width through various trip reports and wasn’t looking forward to it. Now, I was staring at it, catching my breath and looking at another thunderstorm that was off to my right. Luckily the previous one blew off in the other direction. This one was a little bigger. Another impressive lead by Jeff. He’d found a chockstone inside the crack to throw a sling around, but otherwise it was a run-out up the large crack before he could find another pro placement. After a moment of deliberation, I started up. Knee jams, foot jams, arm jam – I muscled up. About twenty feet up, found some nice in-cuts on the outside of the crack to grab on to and the climbing eased up slightly. Ahh, the best part of my day when climbing is getting up over a bulge and seeing Jeff. I mean, we do spend at least ¾ of the day out of sight of each other.
(continued)..
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