Bugaboos Part 3: Big Day on Bugaboo Spire
We saved the best for last…after a few marginal weather days, we finally had a perfect window on our last day.
Climbing the Northeast Ridge of Bugaboo Spire is really only the start of this adventurous day.
After twelve or so pitches, one reaches the north summit, but the traverse to the south is wildly exposed and a bit complicated…requiring a cheval technique—scooting along the ridge as if you were on horseback.
Then comes the descent of the Kain Route, a long and complicated traverse of the entire mountain before returning down the Bugaboo Snowpatch Col.
Natalie and I had no issues, but it certainly took a full day to figure out the little tricks of the route.
After returning to the Kain Hut, we gathered our things and hiked out by headlamp. Thanks Bugaboos--you're the stuff dreams are made of!
Bugaboos Part 2: Warming Up
PigeonNatalie and I got a casual start to our trip. Pigeon Spire is the gold standard easy alpine outing in the Bugaboos. A straightforward ridge of perfect granite rises out of the glaciers to an airy summit. After a trip up the loose, steep and icy Bugaboo-Snowpatch Col we made quick work of the glacier and flew up the ridge with views of the Howser Towers, Snowpatch and Bugaboo Spires and the heart of the Purcell Range.
McTech
That evening, Alex (who I’d had the pleasure of getting to know well on Peaks Korzhenevskaya and Communism last summer in Tajikistan) and Vincent arrived. Both meteorologists and snow scientists, they’d just flown in from France. Natalie and I decided to join them on a climb of the legendary McTech Arete on Crescent Spire. This route didn’t require much of an approach, but presented the hardest technical climbing of the trip. Fortunately, rope-gun Natalie led all the hard pitches.
Best. Trip. Ever. Bugaboos Part 1
I'm continuing on my work from a coffee shop, sleep by a dirt road summer. My research work has been quite good and productive, more on that shortly, and the climbing has been nothing short of stellar. With all of my summer expeditions, I've never really had the chance to go to a lot of the areas in North America that have been on my mind. I've also been able to develop quite a bit as a rock climber.
After my fieldwork in BC finished up, I headed to Squamish, just north of Vancouver for some rock climbing. There, I met up with Hamik, who I'd climbed with in the Alps, and Natalie, a mutual friend of some of my climbing friends and a complete animal in the mountains. After a couple days of climbing on the perfect granite of Squamish, Natalie and I headed out and geared up for the long drive to the Bugaboo Provincial Park, located in British Columbia's Purcell Mountains.
The Bugs are one of the most picturesque places I've been, and are relatively civilized despite their true alpine character.
After a long drive over narrow dirt roads, we packed up, making sure to line our vehicle in chicken wire to prevent porcupines and other critters from chewing on anything or hitching an unauthorized ride down to civilization. We'd booked a stay at the beautiful Kain Hut, so we were able to pack light without stoves and camping gear and splurge on delicious food for our stay.
The hike up to the Kain Hut was steep but relatively short and we settled right in cooking dinner and sorting gear for the next day's climb.
I have too many photos from last week, so I'm gonna milk this over a few posts. Next major outdoor stop will be Wyoming and Montana where I teach a field course for Stanford sophomores.
Running in the Olympics
For nine years, a great deal of my time and energy was focused on one running fast and turning left. Track and field, especially at its upper levels, is all consuming and requires steady effort. It can take quite a bit of time to return to form after even a couple days off. When my back started acting up over the last three years of my running career, I denied the reality as long as I could, but eventually needed to confront my own limitations...I simply wasn't consistent enough to perform at a higher level. It took a while to be comfortable leaving running behind, but I see my ability to carry a pack and move fast in the mountains as a sign that I made the right call to drop the 90 mile weeks. Now I'm a happy member of the cheering section for my friends and former teammates as they chase the dream.
A few days ago, we wrapped up our fieldwork in British Columbia and I found myself with about 36 hours of freedom in Washington's Olympic Peninsula. I quickly schemed up a plan to climb Mount Olympus. No small undertaking, Olympus is one of the most remote peaks in Washington, requiring 45 miles and over 8000 vertical feet of elevation gain. My only exposure to what was possible on the route was coming from my friend and speed fiend Leor Pantilat, who holds the record at an insane 11 hours, 6 minutes. Leor is still the only partner I've ever had to leave me in the dust on the trail, so I knew I was in for a big trip.
I started out a bit late, around 5:30PM and got to running up the trail. I went as light as I thought I really should...no tent, just a small sleeping bag and pad, just a few clothes, minimal food and of course crampons and ice axe for the crossing of the Blue Glacier. The route ascends the Hoh River valley, through spectacular rainforest.
I ended up not making it quite as far as I'd liked...about 15-16 miles in, before I found a nice bivy site and settled in for the night. The next morning, I realized that my alarm had died in the night so I didn't have the alpine start to my advantage. Needing to be back at the trailhead by late afternoon or so, I realized I simply didn't have enough time to finish the remaining 30 or so miles of the route, so I slept in before hiking and running back down to the trailhead. Mountains aren't the same as track, but I'll take these Olympics any day.
On the road (again)...and Generation Anthropocene Interview
Greetings from British Columbia! I've been out doing fieldwork with my research group. We're all collecting samples that will help constrain the climate in western North America during the particularly hot and humid Eocene (33-55 million years ago). We're visiting some of the most amazing plant fossil sites on the continent and collecting samples for our isotopic work. The fishing is amazing, both for us and the bald eagles. Bugs aren't (so) bad.A few weeks ago, I sat down with Generation Anthropocene, a podcast started by fellow Stanford students Michael Osborne, Miles Traer and Leslie Chang that confronts the reality that we, humans, are a force driving global-scale change. In the first ever two-part GenAnthro conversation, Miles, Leslie and I discuss mountains, science and beyond in a somewhat biographical piece:Part OnePart Two
