North Face of Longs Peak

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   Colorado Rockies

Climbing & Mountaineering

  Sierras / California

    Kindergarten Chute

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    North Face - Longs Peak

    Bell Cord Clr - Maroon Pk

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    Las Illinizas - Ecuador

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             Well, I wanted longer and harder routes, and I suppose I got one.  After driving a load of furniture up to Boulder, preparing to move from Carlsbad , I spent the weekend at Matt’s place in Longmont.  Since on Saturday Marshall had plans to go four wheeling, I was looking at relaxing and unpacking some things at the house in Boulder.  By noon, though, Marshall’s plans had fallen through, so we came up with the idea to do the North Face of Longs Peak.  Marshall had never been up Longs before, so it seemed like the thing to do.  We planned on the ultimate fast-and-light ascent – ice tools, crampons, water, a few Power Bars, and our mountain boots. 

                We finally get out of the house at noon and start hiking at 1:30 PM .  All the way up the trail we pass hikers and backpackers coming down the trail.  They all look at us like we were nuts – most “intelligent” people leave at 3:00 or 4:00 AM to summit Longs in a day and be off the summit by noon or so before afternoon T-storms hit.  They also take 12-16 hours to do the 16-mile hike.  But we weren’t overly concerned – the weather pattern had been stable for the last couple days, and the few Cumulus clouds that were leaving moisture trails were north of the mountain and not a threat. 

                Ledges on the East Face all still held snow, and the Notch Couloir looked in perfect condition.  The North Face was melted out a bit and the slab I had descended with Matt in 1997 looked bare – we hadn’t planned on that.  As we rounded the bend to the Boulderfield, the Diamond and North Face became visible, looming above the col between Longs and Mt. Lady Washington.  The scene was creepy, with the 1,000-foot face streaked by ice and snow, and the sun filtering and fingering its way through clouds. 

I put on mountain boots, while Marshall starts up the hard snow in his tennis shoes.  An ice tool provides the only security on the 45-degree snow.  I huff and puff behind Marshall, only slightly slower than he – surprising, since it had been only 30 hours since leaving Carlsbad at 3,000 feet.  The clouds and storm cells to the north were breaking up, boding well.  The slope steepens to about 55 degrees and ice coats steps in the last 100 feet before reaching the rock.  Marshall randomly decides on a turnaround time of 6:30 , so we were “sure” to be back on the trail by dark.  That gives us an hour to climb the 150+ feet of rock and final 500 feet of snow and scrambling to the summit.

                Marshall starts up the rock slab, using big holds on the dihedral and a narrow ribbon of snow and rotten ice to make fast progress.  As Marshall climbs, he knocks some fist-sized ice chunks down, but they miss me and I watch as they skitter down the snowfield and smash into the rocks below.  I reach the dihedral and start up, about eighty feet below Marshall.  The first half of the dihedral is a hoot, climbing with one tool in rotten ice, one hand on rock, and crampons switching between rock edges, cracks, and the ice.  The rock slab sits at about 70 degrees – easy. 

        The Diving Board, the Camel, and Mt. Lady Washington line up to the east below us.  The crux ahead follows another 15 feet of rotten ice and slopey face holds before traversing up over the dihedral to a rock step, and a few more feet of slabby rock moves.  As I start the crux moves, Marshall finishes and sits down on the last of the rock.  He gives a little beta as I balance on two marginal crampon placements, one in bad ice and the other on a sloper to the side.  My only sense of security is a bomber tool placement as I consider the final moves and give only a passing thought to what might happen if I blow them and fall.  I reach up and find a positive hold on top of the dihedral.  Move my feet up, and mantle, skooching a leg around onto the face.  I pull up and stand on a small ledge.  Not exactly the easiest moves I’ve ever done, especially ropeless.  I balance on the slab, step up again, and mantle up next to Marshall.   

                Mark Twight says that climbers who think alpinism is beautiful are delusional romantics and that “hard alpine climbing is all-out fucking war.”  I don’t know if I’d go that far, but then again I have yet to climb any really hard routes in the mountains.  What routes I have climbed have been fairly moderate, and the only real battle is one of the mind.  They take stamina, technical proficiency, and a bit of courage, and to MT’s credit they weren’t beautiful.  The scenery is rugged and harsh – pretty in some perverse way as I move over it maybe, or at least I can make it look that way with my camera  – and the mountain doesn’t particularly give a shit whether I live or die on it.  Alpine climbing is suffering and pain, and makes you wonder sometimes why we do it.  There’s nothing beautiful about how you feel after 10 or 15 hours on the move.  For me it’s about overcoming demons in the mind and throwing off other’s expectations. 

                We slog up the last 500 feet of snow, pass through some rocks, then pause to remove crampons.  Five minutes of scrambling and we’re at the summit.  14,255 feet, 6:15 PM , and there’s no one around for miles.  The mountains of Rocky Mountain National Park are all still holding snow.  The Y Couloir on Ypsilon is visible, as is Dragon’s Tail on Flattop.  We pause for photos, and I congratulate Marshall on his first trip up Longs Peak . 

                Since we have foregone ropes, we can’t rappel the North Face, and there’s no way we can reverse the 5.5 rock moves in crampons.  We decide instead to endure the Keyhole, and traverse the entire backside of the mountain.  The sun drops lower on the horizon as we finally reach the Keyhole and drop down a rock slope to the Boulderfield.  The jarring, boulder-hopping, and deep-knee bends are excruciating on my knees.  I’m not looking forward to getting old.

                Down at the Boulderfield we meet one of the climbers camped there.  We talk for a bit about his plans and the routes on Longs.  He expresses amazement at our choice of timing and style.  He says he and his partner had seen us climbing the snowfield and surmounting the rock band earlier and commented, “Are they climbing without a rope?”  “No one does the North Face without ropes.”  “No way.”  He seems in disbelief that we started so late and made such good time up the route and back down.  The clash of traditional thought and values with our chosen ethic is ironic.  We wish each other well, and Marshall and I turn down the trail.  The sun sets as we watch from about 12,500 feet, bright orange rays light up the clouds and highlight rain showers to the northeast.  By dark we’re down to tree line, and an hour later we reach the parking lot, two tired puppies, every muscle in pain or numb from it.  We hiked almost 15 miles and did 1,000 feet of snow and rock in a respectable 8 hours 45 minutes.  It would have been significantly faster had we brought harnesses and a rope to rappel the route, but I’m happy in knowing our style was impeccable.  With no extraneous equipment, food, or clothing, we moved quickly and securely up technical terrain.  

Summary:  6/ 16/01   North Face / Cables Route , Longs Peak   (14,255’, II 5.5 M3 AI2, 1,000’)

Click on photos for larger versions.

Mt. Meeker and Longs

RMNP from the North Face of Longs

On the upper North Face

With Marshall on the summit
 

Sunset (photo by Marshall)