Ischinca 18,143′ viewed from Urus

Life in the Quebrada Ishinca had fallen into a rhythm, an “alpine schedule” of sorts.  A bedtime of 7PM with a planned wake up of 2AM felt pretty normal.  At 2AM sharp, Elias was once again moving from tent to tent to rouse the sleeping team.  The two recent practices had streamlined everyone’s routine, and it was barely ten minutes before drowsy climbers wriggled out of their tents fully dressed and began to shove final items into their packs. We exchanged whispered greetings, unsure whether buenas noches or buenos dias was more appropriate for this hour.   I noted that there were only six out of the nine of us getting ready.  The other three were suffering from either altitude or ‘gringo gut’.   I was not at 100% but was feeling much better than the previous day. Before 3AM we were once again a single file line of headlamps bobbing up the hillside above camp.  The acclimatization process was working and this morning the team’s breathing was a little quieter.   Yesterday everyone except me had cached most of their gear including mountaineering boots at the base of the glacier.  The lighter loads had the group moving well and in good spirits.   This approach was longer than Urus, but it was also much gentler.  We hiked on good trail for a little more than two hours to reach the glacier at 16,700 ft.  At nearly 17,000 ft the thin pre dawn air was frosty and the gentle breeze was biting.   We took a break to gear up for the glacier climb. Since I did not cache gear I was ready much faster than the others.  I sat and gawked as the peruvian sun revealed the full beauty of the mountains around us.  Ranrapalca is hands down the most impressive, massive and complex mountain I have ever laid eyes on.   I think I may have a crush on it.

Ranralpaca at dawn from the edge of the glacier on Ishinca (16,700 ft)

As Robby, Kim and I tied ourselves  together with a rope, we dubbed our team Ro-Ki-Ke.   Punctuated by the satisfying crunch of crampons on hard snow team Ro-Ki-Ke stepped onto the glacier, and the fun part of the day got underway.  We climbed a steep slope and then traversed through the debris of a massive avalanche.   The inconsistent nature of the debris made it difficult to maintain a good pace.  As we faltered through the jumbled mess of snow, I looked up at the massive crown of the avalanche above me.  I could imagine the terrifying power as the tons of snow rushed down the steep slopes.    I thought to myself. “gotta be careful today Keith,  don’t become a statistic!!”

Ro-Ki-Ke ascending an easy section of the Ishinca glacier with Ranrapalca in the the background

The ridgeline (pictured above) seemed pretty close.  However, we had to scale nearly 1000 ft of 40 degree snow to gain the ridge.  Even though my team was moving well,  getting to the ridge crest proved no small task.  As we climbed there was no talking, just the rhythmic sounds of high altitude work.   First was the sound of crampon teeth biting into firm neve, followed by the cold chink of the ice axe shaft as it was plunged in for self belay, finally a sharp whistling whoosh as each climber exhaled with what is called a “pressure breath”.   For more than 1.5 hours we danced up the mountain to this largo rhythm.  As I topped out on the ridge I was met by lead guide Elias.  He was clearly in his element and was wearing a huge grin. He put his hand on my shoulder and said “dude you need to turn around and check out this view”.   I turned around to face a sea of white fanged mountains and jagged rocks.  I pulled out my camera and joined Robby in clicking away furiously trying to photograph the vista.  However, I knew my efforts were futile. Grandeur of this scale refuses to be captured by a picture.   So I put down my camera and just enjoyed the moment.

A pumped up Elias looks out at Nevado Urus which we climbed a couple days earlier.

Taking a break on the shoulders of a giant.

Tocllaraju (our next objective) peaks over the ridge

From the break to the summit things really got fun.   We left break and immediately climbed a short but steep section, and then worked our way through a number of yawning crevasses.

The team climbs up around a beautiful open crevasse, on hard glacial ice.

After the crevasses we made a flat traverse to the base of the summit.

The final pitch to the summit was a steep 50+ degree snow climb. It was fun, but at 18,000 ft it was physically challenging. (this picture is not from our climb)

The summit of Ishinca is pretty wild. It is just a steep slope dropping off to a cliff below. The top of the summit is heavily corniced.

Maybe 45 minutes after leaving break we arrived on the summit of Ischinca. The summit was small and had steep slopes dropping off on all sides. We first pounded in a snow picket to anchor ourselves to and then carefully removed our packs and anchored them with our ice axes.  Anything you set on the snow would go careening down the steep slope and off a cliff.  Once we were safely seated we congratulated each other on an awesome climb.   Not far behind us the second rope team arrived on the summit.  Every one was exuberant and we had a great little summit party. We ended up spending almost an hour in perfect weather. It was such an enjoyable experience. Elias interrupted our ardor “So who feels like they could keep climbing for 4 or 5 more hours of steepness similar to that final pitch?  That is what we face on Tocllraju.” I felt good but it was still a sobering thought.

On the summit of Ishinca (18143 ft / 5530 m)

Our summit perch

We left the summit and begin the tedious work of descending the steep snow. I was once again in front and faced out plunge stepping down the steep steps. Extreme care was warranted in this section. A slip would almost certainly pitch the entire team off the face. After this section the descent was pretty straight forward on good snow. We made great time back to the rocks at the base of the glacier. Everyone else switched to hiking boots and we started our hike out. All of us were tired but still pumped from a fun climb, so the hike went quickly. We arrived back at base-camp where Emelio had prepared a delicious lunch that was essentially a meat stuffed sopapilla (‘Hotpocket’).  Some of the group were taking a second try at Urus the next day.  Those of us heading to Tocllaraju headed to bed later knowing we had the luxury of sleeping in. As I slipped into my sleeping bag and rested my tired body, my thoughts were already on Tocllaraju  silently standing 20,000 ft above me in the darkness.

That night back in camp I watched the sunset over this beautiful giant.
Tocllaraju (19797 ft / 6034 m)

The first objective was to move our tents 2400 ft up the mountain to “Moraine Camp” at 16,800 ft.  This would give us a head start on the big day.  We were going to carry everything to high camp.  So to save weight we would be leaving the luxuries of basecamp behind, and sleeping three to a tent.  Only three of the nine climbers were going to be allowed to try for this mountain.   Two additional ladies were strong enough and decided they wanted to at least go to high camp with us.  Following a leisurely breakfast, we broke down our tents and stuffed our packs until they were heavy with gear.  I didn’t have a scale but I am certain mine was above fifty pounds.

The team packs up at basecamp to move higher

Making our way to high camp

The hike up to high camp was a messy struggle.  The trail is steep and loose for the first half, and an exhausting scramble over a jumbled boulder field for the last. I put some good music on in my headphones, and let the sweat flow for three hours as I grappled with the hike. Around 3PM we finally reached high camp.   We dropped our packs and immediately got to work erecting our tents to shelter us from the increasing wind and cold.  Weary from the hard hike I crawled into my tent for a brief rest.  We only had a few hours in camp to recharge our aching legs for the summit attempt later that night.    While we rested, Elias (lead guide) fired up the stove and began the endless process of melting snow for water.

High camp (16,800′) situated in the moraine.

We had a little protected nook in the rock where we melted water and ate dinner

As late afternoon slipped into dusk, the sun dipped behind the horizon, but the daylight still lingered in the air as though accidentally left behind.  All around us the vast mountains and cloud filled sky exploded with orange and red.   We watched in awe as the colors changed and slowly faded.  Behind us the last of the sunlight worked its way up Tocllaraju and the mountain slipped behind a curtain of darkness.  I thought to myself that the next time the light touched those slopes we would be near the summit.  I felt a tingle of anticipation for that moment.

A Fiery Peruvian Sky over Ranrapallqa (6,162 m)

As soon as the sun was gone the temperature began to plummet.   We grabbed our puffy down coats and headed to the shelter of some near by rocks to huddle in a circle for dinner.   Tonight there was no fresh cooked food served on a table by our camp cook.  This evening we would be supping on dehydrated mountain-house meals.  As we waited for the boiling water to reconstitute the dehydrated food we shoved the meal package in our jackets.  The warmth from the hot water helped ward off the chill that was emanating from the rocks beneath us.  While we were eating dinner the third guide Robby arrived at high camp.  He had taken four climbers on a second attempt of Urus, and then made the hike up to base camp. I was quite fatigued from just hiking up here and was very impressed by the high level of fitness of our guides.

By 7PM, we were all crammed into the tents for a futile attempt at sleep.  Our tent was perched on an uneven slanting rock slab.  Little nubbins of rock dug through the inadequate padding of my thermarest.  The angle of the ground caused us to slowly slide towards the downhill side of the tent.  I was unlucky enough to be at the bottom of this manslide. I knew early on that sleep was not going to happen.  I simply laid in the tent and tried to rest without disturbing Magnus, who was pretty much laying on top of me.   My thoughts were already on the mountain which towered above us in the darkness.  As the evening progressed I felt an increasing disquiet in my guts.  Unsure if it was nerves, altitude, or food borne illness I tried to ignore it.

About 11:30PM Elias got out of the tent, a few minutes later I heard the hiss of the stove as he began heating water for breakfast.  I knew it wouldn’t be long now.  Elias was back at the tent with hot water around midnight.  We used the water to brew instant coffee. I stared at my selection of breakfast items and my stomach contracted violently at the mere thought of food.  No matter,  I had to get in some calories.  I chose the least disgusting sounding bar and put it in my mouth.  I somehow forced the entire bar down,and it settled in my stomach like an unwelcome brick.  Even my coffee, which is usually my favorite part of the morning routine, was unappetizing.

By 12:45AM I once again felt the familiar bite of my crampon as we stepped onto firm snow.  The neon green rope glowed under a full moon as it stretched uphill to Robby.  The glacier started with a gentle slope which was a nice warmup.  I was glad for this gradual start as I was still not feeling well.   All around us was quiet cold snow fading into black chasms beyond the ridge.  Up this high there is remarkably little sensory stimulation.  No plants or cities to produce smells, no rush of water or chirp of birds. Only wind, cold, and the constant crunch of crampons.   We took a break around 2AM. I was unable to force down any food, and settled for drinking Gatorade.  The moonlight revealed that the next hour would be on much steeper snow. Reluctantly we removed our down parkas and felt the bite of the high altitude air.   I wriggled my toes against my stiff boots to warm them as we continued to make an easy traverse towards the ridge proper.

The gentle traverse ended abruptly into a steep 70 degree wall of snow.   We paused briefly to discuss how to surmount this obstacle.  It appeared a previous party had kicked in some steps which would  ease our assent somewhat.  It was decided Elias would lead and place pickets for protection.  The rest of us would follow using a single long axe in high dagger.  I was the last in line to make the assent.  The climbing was by far the steepest snow I have been on and it was exhilarating.  My heart was pounding from the combination of adrenaline and exertion.  I was so concentrated on what I was doing I forgot how crappy I was feeling.  This type of 100% focus and being forced wholly into the moment is one of the main thing that draws me to this sport.  I apparently suck at high dagger (using a mountaineering ice axe pick much like you would use an ice tool).  On the entire pitch I never felt like I got secure placement, and wished for my tool which was strapped to my pack.   Being the last up I needed to pull the pickets and stash them between my pack and my body.  The last picket got caught up and wouldn’t go in cleanly.  I had to take both hands off the snow and balance precariously as I worked to get the picket stowed safely.  Heart racing I finished the pitch and the angle of the slope soon eased.

Before long we were at the first crux of the route the section where we gained the ridge proper.  There was some steep snow approaching a Bergschrund (a wall of ice created where the ice separates).  Even in the dark the steep climb looked very intimidating.  You could see the overhanging lip looming above us silhouetted against the setting moon.  Elias being the baddass he is simply walked up and sent the climb with out even pausing.   Once on top he built an anchor to belay the rest of us up.   Magus and Kim who were on his rope went up next. I watched Magnus struggle to pull the roof and then fall.  I knew this was not going to be easy at all.  I was going to the the fourth to climb and as the minutes ticked by a deep chill set in.  I stood in the darkness shivering, stomping my aching feet to get circulation.   My stomach was cramping and I was nauseous from both nerves and unfamiliar bacteria.  “Maybe I should just go down” my inner voice was becoming much louder, and I had serious doubts if I was going to summit.   It was too late Robbie (first on my rope) was already on route.  Looks like I am going to be trying this.    I stuffed my puffy jacket and prepared to climb.  I found the use of one tool and my axe in high dagger very awkward.  Especially as I worked to clear the overhanging roof.  I struggled and fought and managed to get to the top without falling.  As I hauled myself over the lip and clipped into the anchor I felt like complete crap.

This is the schrund that we climbed to gain the ridge. It was dark and I was too focused on feeling sick so I didn’t get any pictures of this. This picture is from summit post.

The extra exertion and excitement of climbing this section was just too much.  I told Elias how bad I was feeling.   He told me I needed to decide right then if I was going to go to the summit or turn around.  Once he tore down the anchor it was going to be too difficult to split up.   If i couldn’t summit the whole team would have to turn around.  I really didn’t feel like I could commit 100% to continuing upwards.  So there at 18,700 my 7 month quest to climb Toccliraju was going to end.  I knew it was the right thing to do but I struggled to admit it and verbalize that I was quitting.   I asked Elias for a break to think it over.  “No time everyone is cold an we need to move”  he responded.  I nodded and hung my head and he knew that meant I was done.  We quickly set about to rig me on rappel and Elias call down to Carlos who was still at the bottom of the pitch that I was turning around.   I quickly wished the team good luck and rappelled down to Carlos.   He had another rope in his pack which we tied into and started our descent.   It wasn’t long before we were at the top of the lower steep section.  I got out my second tool and prepared to downclimb.   I thought I had noticed before but the light from my headlamp seemed very dim as I fiddled with the straps to remove the tool from my pack.   Carlos put me on a boot axe belay and I climbed down over the lip.   Just a few steps in and out of the glow of Carlos’s lamp I realized my headlamp was dying.  I yelled up at Carlos obvious concern in my voice. He replied “do you have spare batteries?”  I took a mental inventory of my pack and distinctly remembered leaving them all the way down at base camp.   “Well you are just going to have to get down then Keith”.  Off I set, gingerly feeling my way down near vertical snow.  It was positively terrifying.  I was not at all confident in the belay, and I was expending tons of energy kicking to secure foot holds.   I took a really long time to climb down.   Once I was on the ground I called back up to Carlos.   In what seemed like less than a minute he was standing next to me.

I was still feeling really sick.  He suggested I put on my big coat and see if getting warmer didn’t help me feel better.   We also decided I needed to transfer the batteries from my avalanche transceiver to my headlamp so I could see where I was walking.  He was kind enough to do this for me while I rested and drank some water.   The rest of the route to basecamp was easy walking on snow.  Even in my poor condition we were back in camp in less than an hour.   The first sky was getting light as I crawled into my tent sick, tired, and very sad.  As I lay there alone in my tent,  It really hit hard that all that work, and all that dreaming was ending without a summit.   I drifted in and out of sleep my thoughts were still on the mountain.  At about 6:30 an urgent ache in my gut drove me back out of the tent for another date with a blue bag.   Camp was quiet and I spent a while looking up at the mountain trying to spot the team.   Carlos heard me up and asked if I was ok.  He suggested we rest until the sun hit our tents and then pack up.  I was feeling quite a bit better and was able to get maybe an hour of real sleep.  I was awakened to Carlos calling up Elias on the  radio.  The team was high on the ridge and all was going well. The excitement and elation in Elias voice made it obvious they were in high spirits. I pulled my sleeping bag around me and pouted.

Once things warmed up we quietly packed up our gear and hit the trail. I was weak and slow on the hike to base camp. I felt as exhausted as if I had climbed Everest. Midway through the tedious descent we encountered the rest of the team who had decided to hike up to high camp to experience the fantastic views.  They were all very surprised to see Carlos and me returning we  shared the same sadness of unfulfilled hopes and they offered some encouraging words.

Shortly after dark we got word that the successful sumiteers were nearing camp. We all got out of the tents and stood out to congratulate them.  As I embraced my battered and badly sunburned teammates I was honestly happy that they had had success and returned safely to camp.  Magnus soon teetered towards our tent and literally collapsed into it.  I helped him with his boots and offered to get him some food and water.  He was completely exhausted but managed to relay some of the story of their exiting day.

As I sit and reflect on this more than a year later I feel much better about this failure. I think I have changed a lot in my definition of “success” in the mountains.  The summit of Toccliraju was not a singular experience.  It motivated almost a year of wonderful adventure.  Sure I would be proud to have accomplished this goal.  There are still unpleasant nagging doubts about if there was anything I could have done better or if I could have been mentally stronger and pushed through.    There is also a calm assurance that I made the right decision.  I had a fantastic life enriching experience, I summited two big peaks,  I am alive, and I am still filled with a passion for the mountains. I showed up I gave it my best and on that day it wasn’t enough.   I don’t know if I will ever return and finish this particular climb, but I know I have grown from it and I will continue to push myself to climb mountains that are big and hard and scary for me.

Urus Este 17782 ft (viewed from high on Ischinca) 
Grade: PD

Last year Independence day was spent climbing Mt Rainier.  I would spend the second 4th of July in a row climbing a mountain.  The goal today was to climb 17,782 ft Urus Este.  This peak is considered easy by Cordillera Blanca standards, but in comparison with the mountains in my resume, it is a big mountain. 

WHOMP WHOMP (banging on the side of the tent)  “Ok guys lets get moving”.  It was our guide Elias and he was way too cheerful for 3AM.  The next few minutes were quiet as we squirmed into clothes and out of our sleeping bags.  The camp quickly came alive as everyone stuffed final items into their packs and laced up their boots.  We ate a quick breakfast and left camp around 4AM.   We quietly weaved our way through tents in the valley trying not to awaken sleeping climbers.  Once across the valley, the easy introduction was over.  The approach trail was a miserable set of switchbacks cutting their way up a ridge-line formed from loose glacial debris.  Thankfully a blanket of darkness dampened the senses and dulled the misery.  The trail would have been difficult to locate and follow by headlamp.  We were fortuitous enough to have an experienced local guide who had made countless assents of Urus and knew the trail well.  The only sounds penetrating the still darkness were the scuffing of uncomfortable mountaineering boots and gasps for oxygen.

We took a break about an hour in, and it was clear that many were struggling with the altitude.  I was breathing hard, but otherwise felt good.  We were now at 15,000 ft.  Every step I took from here to the summit would be a new personal altitude record.  We took our second break around 6AM (just as the sun came up).  From our vantage point at nearly 16,000ft, the views of Ranalpaca were mind blowing.  During this break a few of our climbers decided to turn around.  Out of the nine who started, we were down to five climbers plus two guides.    About thirty minutes after this break we reached a steep rock band that marked the end of the miserable trail.  I was excited to go “hands on” and do some scrambling.

The group taking a break just before the scrambling section. Ranrapalca in the background

Urus Centre at sunrise

The rock scrambling was short, relatively easy, and unexposed (in other words plain fun).  After maybe thirty minutes of scrambling we reached the toe of the glacier.  This glacier is small and thus does not have any major crevasses.  I stepped onto the glacier, slid my ice axe from my pack, and knelt down to awkwardly fix my crampons onto my boots.    “Mas Rock!” our local guide Carlos is yelling from lower down.  “There is still more rock!”  Elias darts up the mountain to investigate, turns around and shrugs.  We moved up the first section of glacier and immediately hit more rock.  We temporarily stowed the ice axes and get back to rock scrambling.  Climbing even easy rock in crampons is not fun.  It is much like wearing high heals for the first time.  Metal scrapes on rock as it searches for purchase.  Thankfully we are soon back on firm glacial neve.

The snow was a great consistency for cramponing.  The glacier started with a straight forward 30 degree slope.  This doesn’t sound steep but as always it feels steeper than it looks on paper.  This is especially true at high altitude where every step requires effort.  It had been a while since any of us had moved as a rope team on a glacier.  I was the last guy on the rope and it took few minutes of fits and starts for pace to settle out with a nice consistent interval.  Climbing moderate grade snow is somewhat monotonous business.  You carefully move up a few feet at a time methodically stepping, breathing, moving your axe, checking the rope interval.  Despite the high altitude the equatorial sun is strong.  When it was out the temperatures were pleasant (bordering on warm).  As soon as it ducked behind a cloud things got chilly.

At our glacial pace It took maybe an hour to get to the summit pyramid.  Here the climbing got more interesting.  It was a mix of 45-50 degree snow and granite slabs.  This was the most fun section of the climb.

The remaining route up Urus. (Photo courtesy of Alvarado Adventures)

We reached the summit around 9:30AM.  The south side of the small summit had a cornice with a steep drop off of several hundred feet.  The views in all directions were stellar.  I was very happy to be there and was very excited about breaking my altitude record.

My rope team(Los dos carpas)  for Urus Summit day.  Yes my hat is ridiculous

Team Two Arriving on the summit of Urus

Maybe thirty minutes after we arrived, the second team reached the summit.  We lingered for a while more, drinking in the views of tranquil lakes surrounded by dramatic peaks.  After a few final shutter clicks,  we hoisted our packs to start our down-climb.  I led most of the descent.  Carefully we made our way off the summit, facing out.  For the descent Elias placed a picket near the top of the steepest section.  If one of us pitched this would stop the entire team from rocketing down the steep slope.   Except for a few tricky sections, the remainder of glacier down-climb was easy and fast.

Once we reached the first rocky section we removed and stowed our crampons.  We took a different route down which involved an exciting traverse of 50+ degree snow without crampons.  There was already a route put in, and Elias once again took the lead to make sure there were solid steps to follow.  After the traverse, we descended a short but steep snowfilled gully.

Kim and Elias pause on the descent.

One of the gully’s we used on the descent

Soon we were back on rock.  The bottom part of the trail was unpleasant loose dirt.  The final hour of descending, was an odious one indeed.  I was teased by camp which seamed tantalizing close, but seemed to move with each step we took.   I had been out of water for a few hours, and the sun was now beating down on us.  My mouth ached for a cool drink, and my head pounded from the combination of dehydration and altitude.

Finally, nine hours after setting out, we were back on flat ground.  The climbers who were back in basecamp gathered to congratulate us and hear our exaggerated tales of mountain glory.

Saturday (July 5th)

The day following our climb of Urus we got to sleep in.  After a leisurely breakfast at 8:30 we spent the morning working on crevasse rescue scenarios around camp.  We took turns setting up different pulley systems and working to extract a fall victim.  At dinner the guides informed us of a change to the plan.  Tomorrow the group would hike to the glacier on Ischinca and stash some gear.  This would give some of those who had altitude illness a chance to aclimitze before going for the summit of Ischinca.

Sunday (July 6th)

Saturday night I had fitful sleep.  I awoke breathless several times during the night.  I got up to pee twice and the second time I felt very nauseated.  I got up with everyone else at 5AM and got my gear ready for the hike.  My stomach royaled as I tried to choke down bread and jam for breakfast, and I couldn’t finish a single cup of coffee.  I took my morning trip to our unpleasant pit toilet and it was clear that I was not well.  Elias and I briefly discussed whether I should hike to cache gear, and decided it was best for me to stay in camp and rest for a summit push on Monday.   I returned to my tent washed down an antibiotic and Imodium, and tried to get some more rest.  I spent the day hanging around camp conversing with the two cooks.

Overall it was nice to have a calm restful day.  We retired early to prepare for tomorrows attempt at Ishinca.

This blog post has been broken into 3 sections due to length.  You can expect an update in the next week with a report of Ischinca and Tocllaraju

I am struck by this quote from the movie Lone Survivor, which I am watching on my iphone as I travel by bus to the city of Huaraz.  I have certainly sacrificed, and worked hard to be here.  For the last eight months much of my free time has been spent on training, and this trip has lightened my wallet considerably.  The level of climbing these mountains demand certainly entails more risks than I have previously been exposed to.   Whether I am living a balanced life or overdoing it I’m not sure, but one thing is certain, I am happy to be here.  I am tingling with anticipation for the adventure that awaits me.  I am headed into the Cordillera Blanca, one of the highest and most rugged mountain ranges in the world.  This area has a special combination of  interesting culture, great conditions, insane beauty, and wild routes that make it a mecca for alpinism.

This post has been broken into multiple parts.

Video of the entire trip

Part 1 (Lima to Ischinca)

Part II (Climbing Urus Este)

Journey to Hurarz (10,000 ft)

On the bus with me are ten strangers.  Strangers who I will be very intimate with for the next two weeks.  We will be sharing small tents, linking our fates with a rope, and (eek) even taking a crap into a blue bag while tied to them.  The group met for the first time this morning.  Our guides Elias de Andres Martos, and Robby Young led a short meeting where we introduced ourselves and briefly covered our experience.  Everyone in the group is well traveled, and most have climbed several big mountains before (Rainier, Denali, Aconcagua, Cotopaxi, Kilimanjaro).  In fact, nearly everyone has more big mountain experience than I do.  At least I spend a lot of time climbing the lowly mountains of Colorado.

The climbers from left to right. Lucy, Dan and Angie, Me, George, Kim, Victor, Magnus (my tent-mate), and Correl. In the center is one of the Guides, Robby.

After our meeting we boarded our bus for the 8-9 hour ride to the mountain town of Huaraz.

As we drove, the slums thinned out and the scenery was slowly replaced with the ugly sandy mountains that comprise the arid Rimac river valley.  It took about four hours to reach costal town of Baranca where we stopped for lunch.  From here we followed a steep winding road into the mountains.  We reached a pass of over 15,000 feet merely two hours after leaving the ocean.  After what seemed like an eternity of driving we finally arrived in Huaraz.   Huaraz is a city that sits at 10,000 ft above sea level.  It is the jumping off point for most expeditions and adventures into the Cordillera Blanca and Cordillera Negra.  The city is poor and dirty by US standards, but it had a great vibe / personality and I felt perfectly safe wandering about.

Upon arrival at Hotel Andino, we unloaded our mountains of gear from the bus and checked into our rooms.

Our gear pile in the middle of the hotel lobby

Hike to Laguna Churup  (14,600 ft)

I hauled my butt out of bed shortly after dawn at the insistence of the rooster who had been nagging incesantly since at least 4AM.  As soon as I stepped outside the hotel room I was struck by the view of the dazzling peaks surrounding the city.  The giant Huascaran (22,205′) dominated the horizon.  The shear scale of these mountains was simultaneously exciting and intimidating.

The original plan for the first day in Huaraz was to relax and see sites in the city while we acclimatized to the altitude of 10,000ft.  As if we were not about to get enough hiking in over the next ten days, our original plan was quickly replaced with a hike to Lake Churup.  At 14,600 Laguna Churup is higher than any mountaintop I had previously stood on.  The hike to reach the lake provided some fun scrambling in addition to trail walking.

Scrambling up the Peruvian version of Via ferrata

Back at the hotel we attempted a little relaxation.  I was trying to avoid a high cost phone bill and thus used an app to call my wife via hotel WIFI.  This was great when it worked but the wifi was infuriatingly inconsistent.

Basecamp Bound (14,400ft)

I once again was treated to a fitful nights sleep courtesy of that indomitable rooster.  This time he recruited a local mutt to also bark obscenities at me all night.  Aw well sleep be damned, I had plenty of energy thanks to the combination of super strong Peruvian coffee and excitement coursing through my veins.  We loaded the bus and started the two hour drive back to the small village of Pashpa.

Not long after leaving the paved road we hit a snag in the form of road construction.  Here however there are no alternate routes or detours.  The construction crew did not want the bus to pass and it took quite a bit of time for the guides and bus driver to work out a solution.   Finally we all debarked and the bus drove across the construction hole on a makeshift wooden bridge.

Pashpa our departure point for 11 days in the mountains.

Loading all of our food and duffles onto donkeys.

The hike back to basecamp was easy and mostly uneventful.  We hiked along a beautiful river, through interesting (even if slightly sparse) vegetation.  Unfortunately on the hike in Angie fell ill due to something she ate, probably in Baranca.  She struggled to reach basecamp, and unfortunately this stomach issue affected her entire trip.

A donkey plods along laden with our gear

The group a little ways below base camp (around 14,000 ft)

The valley was home to a heard of cattle. They are known to steal packs, duffles and other gear from tent vestibules in search of salt from sweat.

As we rounded the valley and Tocllaraju came into view my stomach did a summersault. It was so big, and steep, and glaciated!!! I couldn’t wait to test myself on it next week.

Basecamp was situated at 14,400 in a broad moraine valley called “Ischinca valley”.  A river wandered through the valley providing water and dividing up camps.   My tentmate for the 10 nights would be Magus.  Magnus was  an affable fellow who hails from Germany by way of San Diego.  We got along well and made a good team.

This was our base camp(foreground) in the Ishinca Valley. We slept in the orange tents and the blue tent was our cook tent. The big brown tent was where we ate our meals.

The local outfitters included two Peruvian cooks, Emilio and Pablo.  The local people we met were all gracious, welcoming, and interesting.  I very much enjoyed my broken spanish conversations with these gentlemen.  They set up a large cook tent and a well furnished mess tent.  We were treated to great traditional peruvian meals, which were amazing considering our surroundings.

Our Mess tent at base camp.

I was worried that time in camp would be boring.  Instead time in camp was quite busy.  It seemed we were always training, eating, preparing and packing gear, doing laundry etc.  When I did have downtime I watched movies on my phone and wrote.

This was a ‘seminar’ so days that we were not climbing we spent learning.  Instruction included:  knots, glacier travel, placing protection in snow / ice, crevasse rescue, rappelling, avalanche beacon search, and glaciology.  I also spent time working on my Spanish.

Practicing rappelling at base camp

Next Read the trip report on climbing Urus

]]> https://coloradokeith.com/2014/07/21/cordillera-blanca-peru-lima-to-ischinca-basecamp/feed/ 1 157763586 Ranrapallqa (6,162 m) Cordillera Blanca Peru coloradokeith The climbers from left to right. Lucy, Dan and Angie, Me, George, Kim, Victor, Magnus (my tentmate), and Correl. in the center is one of the Guides Robby. All of our bags piled up in the lobby of our hotel in Huaraz There was some fun scrambling in a couple sections of the trail On the hike up to Laguna Charup Laguna Churup. Charup is the mountain in the background. Elevation 14,500 Pashpa our departure point for 11 days in the mountains. Loading all of our food and duffles onto donkeys. A donkey plods along laden with our gear The group a little ways below base camp (around 14,000 ft) The valley was home to a heard of cattle. They are known to steal packs and duffles from tent vestibules in search of salt from sweat. This was our base camp in the ishinca Valley. We slept in the orange tents and the blue tent was our cook tent. The big brown tent was where we ate our meals. Our Mess tent at base camp. Practicing rappelling at base camp https://coloradokeith.com/2014/06/26/how-to-follow-my-progress-in-peru/ https://coloradokeith.com/2014/06/26/how-to-follow-my-progress-in-peru/#respond Thu, 26 Jun 2014 08:52:40 +0000 http://coloradokeith.com/?p=157763579 This page describes how you can receive updates about my trip to the Peruvian Andes (Cordillera Blanca)

Here are the primary ways to get information

• The RMI Blog will have a daily dispatch posted with pictures and a detailed description of what we did that day.  You may have to scroll a little bit to find the updates from the Peru Seminar.
• My SPOT Page will show my latest messages and tracks.
• I will try to tweet updates using my spot device as well.  You can follow me @colokeith for updates

Itinerary

There will be a few days (shown below) that should have some interesting updates. The rest will be spent traveling, acclimatizing, and working on climbing skills around base camp.

• Wednesday 7/2 BASE CAMP    14,400′
  Leaving Huaraz in the morning, we make the short drive to Collón (11,150′). We meet our mules and begin the trek through the Ishinca Valley. Several hours of hiking through alpine landscapes brings us to our Base Camp.
• Friday 7/4: URUS ESTE SUMMIT DAY  •  17,800′
  We make an early alpine start to climb Nevado Urus (17,800′). After the climb, we descend back to Base Camp.
• Sunday 7/6: TOCLLARAJU GLACIER CAMP  •  17,380′
  We leave Base Camp and climb to our high camp below Tocllaraju. After establishing camp, we settle in for the evening.
• Monday 7/7: TOCLLARAJU SUMMIT DAY  •  19,796′
  Leaving high camp, we make our summit attempt on Tocllaraju (19,796′). The climbing is a mix of glacier travel and exciting, steep snow climbing to reach the mountain’s summit. Following the ascent, we descend back to our high camp to retrieve our gear before descending to Base Camp for the evening.
• Wednesday 7/9: ISHINCA SUMMIT DAY  •  18,143′
  The Seminar culminates in a participant-led ascent of Ishinca (18,143′). Climbers have the opportunity to put their  mountaineering skills into action and lead the team on a summit attempt. After the climb, we descend to Base Camp for the evening

Overview Of Area

Peru’s Cordillera Blanca is one of the most spectacular mountain ranges in the world. The high peaks of the Cordillera offer phenomenal climbing and ideal opportunities for mountaineering training. Cordillera Blanca is the world’s highest and most glaciated tropical mountain range.  Topped by 6768m high Huascaran there are 25 6000ers and more than 50 peaks above 5500m within this range, amongst them beautiful Alpamayo and “Paramount peak” Artesonraju. Climbing season runs from May -September. It provides long periods of dry and sunny weather only interrupted by one or two less stable days, which however may force you to wait in your tent before the summit bid.

This is a notional map of the Ishinca Valley area where I will be climbing

Click for interactive map and downloadable GPS route

Last Spring we made an attempt at climbing this exciting couloir, we were turned back by poor weather. You can read more about that attempt here. Even though we were happy with our decision to turn around, being defeated did not sit well with any of us. So we coordinated our schedules for a rematch.

As we drove up towards the mountains the weather enveloped us. By the time we turned on the 4wd road that leads to the 4th of July trailhead, we were in a thick fog bank. This dreary weather left us afraid that we would once again encounter bad conditions on the mountain. Jeremy and I arrived at the trailhead around 8PM Dayton arrived a short while later. We agreed on a 3:30 wakeup and headed to the back of our trucks for some rest.

Enjoying the beautiful views on the drive to the trailhead

My alarm startled me awake at promptly 3:30. As I fumbled to turn it off I looked out the truck window and saw a clear, star filled sky. “Check it out Jeremy”, I exclaimed, “Looks like we are going to have a good shot at this.” Jeremy had already noticed this fact because he had not been able to get much sleep. We hurried about the trucks eating breakfast, and getting ready for the climb. It took longer than usual to prepare and we didn’t get hiking until 4:20AM.

The trail to timberline went quickly we frequently alternated between dry patches and hard snow. We reached timberline around sunrise. Some of the hard snow traverses were steep enough we decided to pull out our ice axes. There was a good boot track in so a fall was not likely.

Dayton is ready to get those skis of his back on on to snow!

The views from Arapahoe Pass are simply amazing!!

Neva looks beautiful in the early morning light. We were all excited to see good coverage on the North East Face. Juliet is the hour glass shaped gully, left of center

We made good time up to Lake Dorthy.  There we encountered some interesting snow formations. Clearly this area gets some nasty weather in the winter.

A Colorado crevasse at the edge of lake Dorthy

Looking back over a frozen lake Dorthy

Cool Cornice at the base of Neva

Once we got up above the lake we stopped to put on crampons, and take in some food.  The sun was just starting to warm the snow.   The couloir looked quite steep from this angle.  The slope approaching Juliet wasted no time in steepening and was 35-40 degrees right off the bat.  There were really good steps already kicked into the snow so we made fast progress. As we entered the constriction I measured the slope angle using my ice axe / iPhone.  I had it at 49°

Dayton walking up the snow staircase

I was messing around with a second tool to get to self belay with a technical axe. This earned me the moniker “Two tool Keith”

The finish on this climb was definitely exhilarating! Things got quiet as we carefully concentrated on what we were doing.  We paused for a minute at the ridge line to catch our breath.  All three of us had huge grins on our faces from the fun climb!   It was a short walk to the summit with a choice of snow or class two talus. We arrived on the Summit around 7:45 AM.

The temps were warming quickly and we agreed to keep the summit break brief.   While we sat and ate we discussed descent options.  We decided to go down the NE face.  Dayton would ski down first Jeremy and I would follow in crampons.

The first part of the descent was easy we plunge stepped down in perfect snow.  Just soft enough to get your heal in securely.  We opted for a patch of rocks to skirt some steep snow that was soft (probably due to surrounding rocks). The rock patch was loose and unpleasant class two, made less fun by the fact we were wearing crampons.  Dayton removed his skis and also walked across this section.  Once back on the snow Dayton took off and was at the base of the mountain in 30 seconds flat.

Dayton making a turn before disappearing down the NE face.

We made one more traverse and then hit some steeper soft snow.  The runout on this section was not good, and the snow was getting greasy.  I felt much more comfortable facing in to downclimb this section.  It was slow going and getting HOT quickly.  The hard work of descending this way had both of us sweating!!  We faced in for maybe 10 minutes.  As the slope angle relented and we reached an area with a safe runout, we turned around to finish the climb.  The snow at the bottom of the slope was very sloppy I was going in to my knees with every step.

We met back up with Dayton at the base of Neva.  He was heading down the drainage hoping to get some skiing in, and Jeremy and I were returning via the normal trail.  There was another party getting ready to head up the route.

The party behind us in the cooly. You can see our descent route marked by Dayton’s ski tracks.

The hike out went smoothly with a rainstorm catching us 10 minutes before we reached the car (Around 1100AM), Dayton had beat us out by a about 10 minutes.    We were happy that  we got an early start, because the storm looked fairly nasty as we drove away.

This was a fantastic route done with some great partners.  Overall one of the best days I have had in the mountains!!

Seven of us, including our cheerleaders headed to Fort Collins the night before the race.  We stayed at the sponsoring Hilton Hotel where we had easy access to the small expo.  Our friend’s parents invited us to carbo load on a spaghetti feast at their beautiful home.

Nicole’s parents were kind enough to have us over for a homemade spaghetti dinner the night before the race.

Sometime around 2:30 am I rolled over in my hotel bed.  My thoughts drifted as I lay there partially awake.  I wonder what time it is … I think it is Sunday, I don’t have to worry about the time… OH MY GOD! I have to run a friggin marathon this morning!  And like that my sleep was over.   I lay there and tried to rest for another hour or so.   I actually felt relieved when my alarm finally went off at 3:45AM.   I was up immediately and began the process of fueling up for the run.   The first course was beet root juice.  I read in a nutrition book that studies show the nitrates in beet juice give you a 2.8 percent performance boost.  I cannot confirm this study, however, I can confirm that beet root juice tastes horrible.

My foul tasting morning cocktail

It didn’t take long to finish getting ready.  Melissa, who was staying in a different hotel, drove over to my hotel and met me for the ride up to the start line.  As we twisted and turned our way up the canyon, I sipped my coffee and distracted myself by conversing with the man sitting next to me.  His name was  Jim and he was here from Wichita to run his third marathon.  After what seemed like an hour the bus slowed and the headlights illuminated a line of porta-potties.  Oh we must be at the starting line.  The bus lurched as it made  a sharp turn,  nope I guess that was only the start of the half  YIKES!!  We continued up the canyon for what seemed like a very long time, and reached the marathon starting line just as the first signs of dawn appeared.

The marathon start was a picnic area along the river.  Melissa and I sat at a table and prepped ourselves for the race.  The temperature at this hour was brisk, but with a forecasted high of 84° I knew it wouldn’t last long.  About 6AM we decided to use the restroom before the race start.  As we walked towards the porta-potties we noticed that of the 1700 runners at the campground, 1650 of them were standing in a long  line.  Unsure if this was  the weirdest race start ever or the bathroom line, we lined up at the end of the campground.   As we waited in line we discussed our race strategy.  Melissa was thinking she wanted to follow the 5 hour pace group.  I was waffling between 4:15 and 4:30.  We really wanted to run together so we agreed to start with the 4:30 group and play it by ear.   We finally made it to the porta-potty  around 6:25 AM (5 minutes to race start).  I rushed through the bathroom and hurried to the road.  In the shuffle Melissa and I were separated.  I lined up with the 4:30 group, and looked around for Melissa as I put on my headphones, started runkeeper, and tossed off my sweat shirt.

Runners at the starting line just before race start.

This was certainly a smaller race than the others I had run.  There was no music, no staggered start times, no loud announcer pumping up the runners.  I took a few deep breaths of cool canyon air to calm myself and waited for the start.  There was a crackle as a voice came over the PA and began to count us down. The race began to a chorus of beeps as hundreds of runners started their garmin watches.

Race start. (Photo  courtesy of the Coloradoan).

It didn’t take long to fall into a rhythm.  The sound of thousands of feet on asphalt mixed with the swollen Poudre river was soothing.   I felt tight and a little out of breath,  a flood of thoughts raced through my mind, was my training really enough to run 26 miles.. is that little feeling in my hamstring going to turn into a cramp … my right shoe may be a little too tight…  A punch on my shoulder jolted me out of thought.  “There you are, I lost you at the start!” Melissa said as she jogged up next to me beaming a smile of excitement.  Alright I can do this, this is going to be fun.  And like that, the first ten minutes thirty seconds and mile one of the race was gone.  We were a little ahead of the 4:30 pace group, and the downhill grade felt easy.  As we passed mile 2 (10:07), we really got warmed up and our pace quickened to  a 9 minute mile.  We began to drift further and further in front of the pace group.   The first aid station and the first gel came and went.  We chatted with other runners, listening to stories of other races they had run, and discussed races we wanted to do.   Very soon the first hour was gone.

The temps were perfect, and I was feeling strong.  By mile five it was clear my efforts to avoid dehydration was going to cause a bathroom break.  Around 6.5 miles I  spotted a national forest vault toilet with no line and ran over the embankment for a speedy pee.  Maybe a half mile later I caught back up with Melissa.  Before we knew it a big flag reading ‘mile 10’ came into view.  Only a 5k and we are halfway done.  We were still holding below a 9:45 pace and it felt almost effortless. This was very encouraging.  My thoughts turned to Angela and Juli.  I hoped they were also having a good race, I knew they would be past the halfway point by now.  Somewhere even further down the canyon I assumed Nicole was pounding her way to a 10K PR.

Running through a tunnel on the marathon route. (Photo courtesy of the Coloradoan).

A struggling runner lays by the river (Photo courtesy of the Coloradoan)

Melissa decided she also needed to take a bio break at the next aid station, she would do her best to catch back up.  She pealed off and ran to the bathroom line.  That was the last I would see of her until the finish line.   Somewhere in this section I passed a decomposing carcass of a deer.  Shortly after passing it, the rancid stench of it hit me, and I fought to keep my last gel down.

I crossed the halfway point right around 2:10, was I really on pace to finish this thing in 4:20?   I took extra time at this aid station.  As I rejoined the steady stream of runners, the 4:30 pace group appeared next to me.   I was unsure if my race time was off or if they had also banked some time in the first half.  In either case I fell in with them determined to keep the pace in the last half.

As I finished the first half I again thought about Juli and Angela who would soon be finishing their first 1/2 marathon

Over the next few miles I enjoyed conversing with a few other runners in the pace group.   The pace leader was a runner from Runners Edge running club.  This was  her first time pacing a race.   Our pace (around 10 min miles), felt comfortable through mile 16.  Somewhere around this point a guy stopped his truck to scream profanities at us.  Apparently he was pissed that we were causing traffic slowness.  In my experience as a runner and cyclist, the bigger the truck the bigger jerk the owner is.  This guy had a very large truck!

Mile 17 was one of only a few places where we encountered spectators (Photo courtesy of the Coloradoan)

Somewhere between mile 16 and 17 we came out of the canyon.  It was now after 9AM and it was positively hot.  The first signs of real fatigue began to appear in my legs and along with them came doubts of being able to hold the pace.   nine miles is a long way to hold this pace…

I had a peanut butter gel at crazy ted’s aid station.  I did not have enough water with this gel, and I left the aid station with a sticky sweet feeling in my mouth.  Mile 17 had a mild incline which felt way harder than it should have.

Mile 18 contained bagel hill, the biggest hill of the race.  Compared to hills I ran in training it was an easy hill, but after 3 hours of running it was anything but easy.   We held a 10:09 pace into the aid station at mile 19.  I was clearly getting dehydrated so I grabbed 3 waters, poured two over my head and drank the other.  Still thirsty I also grabbed some sports drink.  A little extra time in this aid station caused me to fall behind my pace group.  They turned around yelled encouragements at me.  I knew if I lost them I would not be able to sustain this pace.  I dug down and surged to catch up.

“Anyone can run 20 miles.  It’s the next 6 that count.” Barry Magee, New Zealander; marathon Olympic bronze medalist (Rome 1960)

This popular quote was on my mind as the 20 mile mark approached.  Those final six miles are what set marathons apart from shorter distance races.  Many runners hit the wall somewhere around mile twenty.  The “wall”, is a severe glycogen depletion which forces a runner to drastically slow their pace often to a walk.   As we passed the twenty mile mark I set a new personal record for distance.  My hamstrings were beginning to ache with every contraction and real exhaustion was setting in.  It was now 10AM and the the strong sun was beating down on the asphalt.  It felt like it was 90 degrees out.  I knew this next hour was going to suck.

I clung desperately to the pace group as we passed mile 21 (9:55 pace) by this point conversation had ceased.  The runners around me all had a look on their face that was a combination of pain and determination.   My calf, knee, feet, and hamstring all joined forces screaming at me to slow down.  I knew there was an aid station at mile 21.5 and I resolved to stay with my group at least to the aid station.  When we reached the aid station I was the definition of a hot mess.  I again grabbed extra water and Gu brew, and walked for 30 seconds to drink the fluids.  I watched as my pace group pulled away from the aid station and turned to cross the Poudre river on a bridge.  I returned to a run, but simply did not have the energy in me to catch up.  I knew then that I had little chance of making my 4:30 goal.

Mile 22 was an 11 minute mile which felt like at least an hour.  All around me runners were replaced by zombies, all doing the same deflated painful shuffle towards the finish line.  Somewhere in my head a voice began to whisper “If you walked from here you could still easily finish in under five hours”.  My shoes felt like they were constructed from lead weights and broken glass.  Everything in both my mind and body screamed at me to walk.  Finally around mile 23.5 I succumbed and took a short walk break.  Just a minute or two to get some energy back.   Determined not to quit I forced myself back to a run a few minutes later.  It was agony.  The remainder of the race was a repeat of this pattern.  No matter how hard I tried I could not hold a run for more than 1/2 mile.   I simply stopped caring about my finish time and was now resolved just to finish.  I passed a runner being helped up the trail by paramedics, and another runner retching in the bushes.  I felt like puking myself, but I knew I had nothing in my body to throw up.

The temperature was now above 80° and a somewhere a grass fire was filling the air with acrid smoke.   Step after determined step I progressed towards the 26 mile mark.  Off in the distance I could hear the din of the finish line party, and somewhere on the sidelines a spectator yelled “Come on Keith PUSH! Run! you are almost there, RUN!!”

I took a deep breath of hot air and strained to force my dead legs back to a run.  As I turned into old town the first real crowd appeared.  Then the finish line came into view, and a surge of adrenaline dulled the pain.  Soon I saw my friends Justin and Brian holding up some awesome signs.  Seconds later I saw my other friends in the crowd screaming at the top of their lungs.  It meant so much to have them at the finish line.  A voice boomed from the loud speakers “Keith Ganger from Castle Rock, lets bring him in folks”!  And with that I was across the finish line and it was all over!!  I finished with an official time of 4:41:56

Almost To the Finish Line

If felt SO good to have the finisher medal slipped over my neck. I met up with my friends and got some pictures as I fought back nausea.  We stayed at the party for just long enough to see Melissa finish (only a few minutes behind me).  We all wanted to get back to our hotels and begin caring for our battered bodies, so we did not stick around the finish party for long.

Click for a break down of my race from runkeeper

Tocllarjau is the biggest objective of the trip. It stands a mighty 19790 ft / 6032 m tall.

I will be spending eleven nights camped above 14,435′  a mere 4 feet lower than Colorado’s highest point (Mt Elbert 14,439′) .  From basecamp we will be climbing three peaks Urus Este (17,800′), Tocllaraju(19,796′), and Ischinca (18,143′).  We will also spend lots of time working on climbing skills.Tocllaraju will certainly be the crux of the trip. The route finishes with a 70 degree ice pitch at 19,000ft, which is sure to be a real challenge.   For the last mountain Trip participants will be chosen to lead in place of the guides.

Last year a group of us made an easy trip back to Continental Divide Cabin.  Since everyone had a blast we decided to pick a different hut and repeat the trip.  This year the group agreed to up the challenge, and go for a more remote hut.  We settled on Polar Star Inn which is a 17 person hut in the 10th Mountain Division Hut system.   We also convinced more people to join us getting the group size up to 11.

As the date of the trip approached the winter storms centered in on Colorado.  Wave after wave of storms dumped snow on the mountains.  This was exciting, and also intimidating.  Tons of fresh powder raises the avalanche danger, and  makes backcountry travel very difficult even with snowshoes. As if to set the tone for the trip we started off on Sunday night with a three hour drive in a snowstorm.  Nine of us decided to spend Sunday night in Eagle, in order to get a few extra hours of sleep. The storm made the drive slow, but we made it there without incident.

Around 8:45AM we arrived at the yeoman park trailhead, and began to ready our gear as snow continued to fly.  Our original plan was to take the newcomer spring route which follows a 10th mountain trail.  Due to the conditions we decided to take the Fulford Road route.  This route is longer, but it follows a 4WD road for the first four miles.  The packed base and obvious road cut made routefinding, and travel easier.

           “There’s no such thing as bad weather, just soft people.” -Bill Bowerman

It was tough to keep things dry while preparing to leave the trailhead

Slogging up the road was pretty uneventful.  The grade was easy, and the route was obvious despite the ongoing snowstorm.   Even though the road was mellow, it was no walk in the park.  As we sat down for our second break it was apparent that four miles of struggling up hill in the snow was starting to take its toll. Worse we were staring at the trail sign which pointed our way toward steep powder covered hill.

The crew makes good progress on Fulford road

Leaving the road and beginning the haul up the steeper terrain

After a few minutes of respite we strapped on our packs and turned onto the trail.   It was immediately clear that things were going to be much tougher from here on out.  The hill was very steep, and the snow was deep.  My glutes screamed as I strained to pull the heavy sled.   We soon met another party of three who had taken Newcomer spring on skis.    It took us nearly two hours to cover the last 1000 vertical feet.  Finally Dayton and I caught a glimpse of the Polar Star Inn through the trees.  I let out a yell of joy, which was immediately deadened by the heavy snow blanketing the trees.  It had taken us about 5.5 hours to make the 6.25 mile hike in.

Our weary party arrives at the Polar Star Inn

One by one we removed our packs, kicked copious amounts of snow from our boots, and headed into the warm hut.  Like many huts in the system, the polar star has a common area on the main floor, and sleeping areas upstairs.  We hauled our gear up the stairs and claimed our beds.  There we changed into some dry clothes, and gathered around the fire to warm up, and recover.

Enjoying some well earned rest

spaghetti, warm naan with olive oil, and a cabernet!!

We didn’t do much the rest of the afternoon.  We just hung out in the hut and enjoyed some laughs.  Brian hauled back a small foam roller, which felt wonderful on our stiff muscles.   The 1oth mountain huts have a well equipped kitchen.  I took up cook duty, and  started work on a big pot of spaghetti for dinner.   As we sat down to eat a party of three skiers arrived at the hut.  They had made the ski up from west lake creek.   The hard work and cold temps fueled our appetites, and we demolished an impressive amount of food.

Around 8PM the yawns grew more frequent and people started to disappear from the table.  A few of us had an impromptu yoga session, and then we called it a night.  The stove in the polar star was small, but efficient.   Even as the temperatures plunged outside it was stupidly hot in our room.  After a few hours of sweating it out we got up and opened the window. The cool mountain air was refreshing, and sleep soon found me.

Day 2 

I woke up around 7AM and made my way downstairs.  The trip to the outhouse was a brisk one, the stinging cold air was a rude awaking.    One by one the others were coxed out of bed by the  crackling fire, and promise of a hot cup of coffee.   The plan for the day was to hike New York mountain.   Due to all the recent snow the avalanche danger was extremely high.  Only a couple of us had beacons and we were unsure if the entire party was going to do the hike.   After some discussion, we decided to at least get up to timberline, and see what conditions were like.

Dayton leads the way towards NY Mountain on skiis

The group nears timberline

We reached timberline in about 45 minutes.  We stopped there to dig a pit and see what the snowpack was like.   The slope angle was mellow, and the ridgeline looked wind scoured so we decided to continue.  The wind had kicked up, and most of the group decided they had enough so they turned around.

We continued to traverse up and around NY mountain.  Spreading out to avoid all being caught if there was a slide.   Annie and Eliot (skiiers from the hut) caught up to us around 11,800.  It was clear I was going to hold them back on my snowshoes. Brandon and Rocky were ready to call it quits, and I didn’t feel comfortable soloing the mountain in current conditions.   So the three of us on snowshoes turned around, and the three skiiers stayed to play in the powder.

Polar Star is a warm oasis in the cold woods

Once back at the hut I settled in to read a book.   Several others were restless and decided to try sledding in our gear sleds.     Occasionally I glanced out the window, as shovels and sleds attempted to turn the skin track into a sledding run.  Soon the promise of fun in the snow, drew me from the warm hut. At the time the 2014 winter games were taking place in Sochi  Russia.  Inspired by the games and surrounded by snow, hutlympics was born.

Pulk Luge was the first event in hutlympics

A hardened snow drift made roof jumping not nearly as fun as it looked

Annie came up with the idea to build a ramp up to the shed roof, for some ski jumping

After a few successful shed jumps a piece the hutlympians were ready to retire to the warm cabin.  We cleaned up the skin track to the hut, and headed in to chill.

We enjoyed a big pot of stew, and some wonderful cornbread for dinner.  After dinner we played several games, and once again found ourselves tired before 9PM.

Game time

The next morning we were up by 7.  The hatchet was broken and we were out of kindling, so the fire was a bit more challenging to get started.  Steph cooked up a good breakfast while the rest of us started packing up our gear.  It took a couple hours to get the hut cleaned up, and all of our gear ready for the trip out.

the group pauses for a picture before we depart the hut

We once again strapped on snowshoes, and sleds and hit the trail.   The slowshoe crew decided to try the Newcomer route on the trip out.  The skiers headed for Fulford road, hoping for a fast descent.  The trip out was pretty uneventful.  The sleds were annoying, but much easier to fight downhill than to pull uphill.  We slogged, slipped, slid, and did everything we could to get down hill at a reasonable pace.   Dayton sped out on skis, making it to the cars in a little over an hour.   The rest of us took nearly three to make it to the car.   Even after an easy  3 hour hike the car was a very welcome sight.    Motivated by the promise of a hot shower, we quickly got changed into dry clothes and hit the road for the three hour drive to Denver.

It is hard to beat a weekend in the woods with a bunch of good friends.  Plans are already in the works for a 2015 trip.

If you are looking for information to help plan a similar trip to Polar Star inn or other 10th mountain huts.  Please see this page. 

Brian got a nasty blister on his heal on Hut Trip 2013

Prevention

The basis of preventing blisters is stopping friction.  This is accomplished by a combination of the following.

Hiking Boots

Your boots are the most important purchase you will make as a hiker. Buying the right hiking boots will save you from getting a nasty blister. More important than features or ratings, are how the boot fits your foot.  Each boot is made from an average foot model called a last.  Different manufacturers use different lasts.  Finding a boot that was made for a foot similar to yours will allow you to hike long days without blisters.  Your boot should fit like a snug glove. Find a breathable boot that provides good ventilation and reduces moisture.  A good boot is a balance between comfort, weight, and protection of your foot and ankle. Some stores offer a fake climbing slope to try out your boots. It is important that your foot doesn’t slide inside the boot while walking up or down hill. Your toes should have room to move, you should be able to wiggle them within the boot.

Break in Your Boots And Feet

Most modern hiking boots require very little break in time.  This still doesn’t mean that it is a good idea to tackle a major hike without first trying the boots out.  Start by wearing the boots around the house for several hours.   Pay attention to how your feet feel when you are walking around.  Do you feel any rubbing or discomfort anywhere on your feet?  Next take some walks around the neighborhood.  Finally go for a 1-2 to hour hike with a steep hill and a pack.  This should be enough to expose any major issues.  If you feel rubbing somewhere try to identify why.  Can you lace the boot differently? Can you lubricate or add moleskin to prevent that hot spot.  Would an insole or different sock make your boot fit better.  Your new boots will be a little stiff at first, which is fine. But if you notice significant pinching, rubbing or pain right off the bat, you may want to take the boots back and try a different style.

If you have purchased full leather boots you will likely need a full break in period I would say 5 different trips of 5 miles or so before taking on a big trip.

It is often said that you don’t really break in the boots you break in your feet.  There is some truth to this.  Getting your feet toughened up to the places where they are likely to rub helps reduce the discomfort.

Lacing Techniques

Properly lacing your boot can do a lot to prevent movement. Do yourself a favor and watch this video.  It is good.

Insoles

If your boot is close to fitting but is still causing some issues. You could try adding an after market insole.  Good ones run near $50 but they do make boots very comfortable.  They vary in how much volume they take, if your foot is moving around perhaps adding a high volume foot bed will help.  Some of them have a deeper heal cup which can help lock the heal in place.

Socks

A good sock is very important.  Wool hiking specific socks such as those by smartwool are designed to wick moisture, keep your foot at a comfortable temperature, and cushion your foot.   Colder temperatures call for a thicker sock.   A bigger sock takes up volume in your boot so make sure you try your hiking boots with the socks you intend to use on your trip.

IF YOU WEAR COTTON SOCKS YOU WILL GET BLISTERS! Cotton socks trap moisture and bunch up. Both of these are a recipe for a bad blister.

Some people swear by liner socks others believe they hurt more than they help. Personally I find them to help.   A liner sock is essentially a base layer for your foot.  They should be thin, fit very snugly, and be made of a moisture wicking material.  If your liner sock traps moisture or bunches it will just cause blisters.   REI Coolmax liners, and Ininji toe socks are the two liners I prefer.

When you put your socks on make sure that they are smooth with no wrinkles. Make sure that the heal sits in the right place.

Toughen Feet

If you have tough feet you will likely not experience discomfort or blisters.  Even the best fitting footwear will make your feet hurt after enought miles.  The solution lies in getting your feet tougher.   The most effective way to toughen your feet is to log lots of miles on the trail.   If that isn’t a possibility some of these tricks can help.

• Walk on pavement or concrete barefoot
• Soak your feet in a strong tea (note will cause discoloration)
• Use a product such as Tuf Foot 
• Use rubbing alcohol (this dries the foot and can cause cracking)

Trim Your Claws

Are your claws fearsome enough to scare away any predator you encounter on the trail?  Can you frontpoint up an icy slope with your middle toenails?  As impressive and useful as your talons may be, make sure they are well trimmed.  This will prevent shredding your socks, and more importantly your small toes can get rubbed raw by neighboring toenails.

Lubrication

Another common method of blister prevention is to lubricate the area that is rubbing.  Putting oil in your car lubricates the metal, reducing friction and thus wear.  In much the same way, adding lubrication to likely hot spots allows layers to slide smoothly stopping blisters from happening.   Many people just use petroleum jelly but there are several products made specifically for this purpose.  The main two I would recommend are Bandaid Blister Block, and Bodyglide.

Pre Treating

If you have an area on your foot that always develops a hot spot a few miles in, it is often better to pre treat with moleskin or ducttape.   The downside of this approach is that if your pretreatment works loose and bunches up it will just make things worse.  Additionally the adhesive in the pretreatment can cause the socks to bunch up.

My mountaineering boots always rub the back of my heals.   So before any major trip I put a strip of duct tape up the back of my heal, and then liberally apply body glide to the outside of the duct tape.  This seems to work well for me, and I rarely have issues.   I have had much less luck trying to pretreat problems on my toes caused by ill fitting boots.

Treatment

Preventing hotspots from forming is your primary defense against blisters.  If you follow the steps above hopefully you will not need the content in this section.  Still you must be prepared with the eqipment and knowledge to treat.

Early Treatment is key!! If you feel a hotspot developing, stop immediately and address the problem.  If you tough it out till the next break you will likely have  full on blister.

My favorite products for treating blisters / hotspots are

• Senco Second Skin 
• Dr sholes moleskin
• Duct tape
• Blister bandaids (these seal the blister and really stay put even in water)

This is a good article with more detail on treatment of blisters.  The basic goals are to clean the wound, and then cushion and protect so you can limp out of the woods.