Mt. Chephren, Dogleg Couloir. Our sec ond night on Chephren ...
M t. Chephren, Dogleg Couloir. O u r sec o n d night on C h ep h ren sticks in my m ind. A night spent surfing the line betw een control and chaos. The final rock b an d on th e face festooned w ith obscene snow m u sh ro o m s, like a scene from a d em ented d ream . But I am getting ahead o f myself. I c a n n o t recall w hen I first h eard th e line rig h t o f the W ild T h in g on C h ep h ren ’s n o rth e a st face referred to as th e Dogleg, b u t the nam e was appro p riate and it stuck. The line starts as a snow gully, th en at tw o -th ird s height abru p tly bends left, c u lm in atin g in a series o f chim neys cu ttin g th ro u g h the rock bands g uarding the sum m it. O n a crisp m o rn in g in early April 2007, w ith the first h in t o f daw n lighting th e eastern sky, D ana Ruddy, E am o n n W alsh, an d I were a few h u n d re d m eters up the initial gully w hen the sun hit the face. I never cease to be am azed at how quickly pleasure can tu rn to te rro r in the m o u n tain s. Slides cam e th u n d e rin g dow n an d we spent several h o u rs hunkered u n d er a rock outcrop. O nce things quieted dow n, we got o u t as quickly as possible. Less th a n twelve m o n th s later I was back, w ith Pierre Darbellay, enticed by a full m o o n an d a good fore cast. An avalanche tried to toss m e dow n the gian t snow cone below as I soloed th e initial ice step, b u t it was the only one all day. We sim ul-clim bed past o u r previous high p o in t, th ro u g h m ore ice steps, up a broad snowfield, and into a narrow ing couloir. By m id-afternoon the couloir had steepened to a vertical corner. We p ulled o u t th e rest o f the rack an d the o th er rope, and got dow n to business. The next two pitches, thinly iced, w ith decent rock gear, w ould have been fun had it not been for the overnight pack. But after som e w hining, I g ru n ted o n to th e largest ledge girdling C hephren’s sum m it block. A crater in the slope blasted ou t by a snow m ushroom th at had fallen from som ew here above helpfully exposed som e choss in to w hich to drive iro n , lash it all
together, and call it an anchor. The next rockband w ent easily, and it was tim e to find a bivy. We slept so well in o u r com fortable cave th at we overslept the alarm . O utside, the clouds were bare ly above o u r bivy site. By m id -m o rn in g it started snow ing, and su d d en ly th e sky was full o f rocks, and Pierre cam e h am m e rin g dow n the chim ney. We fo u n d th e tool he had lost d u rin g the fall, b u t his hip was bruised, and I w ent up to finish the pitch. As he clim bed past my stance, I rem ark ed cheerfully th a t it looked like th e angle eased above, the chim ney tu rn in g into a snow gully. For the first b u t n o t the last tim e th a t day, I was right about the snow bu t w rong about the angle. Snow choked the overhanging chim ney above, and tw o hard pitches later we em erged o n to the snow ledge below the final rock band. By then the light snow had tu rn e d in to a sw irling m ass o f heavy flakes. W ith strange d eta c h m e n t I w atched sm all slides start on the ledge an d gather volum e as they disappeared dow n th e ch im ney, follow ing the parallel lines o f th e ropes. Tools slid o ff o f m arginal edges, a n d c ram p o n s sparked on the sm ooth lim estone, as I m anaged the next pitch w ith o u t falling. Actually, th at is not quite true. I was standing on a snow m u sh ro o m fiddling a nu t into crack w hen I felt myself fall— and then stop. The um bilical on m y tool had caught my plum m et. W hile Pierre seconded the pitch, I tried to m em orize the terrain above the belay in the fading light. The chim ney sys tem co n tin u ed straight up, w hile off to th e right w eird snow blobs seem ed to prom ise lowerangle terrain. I headed that way first, only to retreat below a blank wall. I was balancing between snow m ushroom s, traversing back left above P ierre’s stance, w hen overhanging rock and snow rushed upw ard. I bounced to a stop 10m lower, u n h arm ed . I yarded back up to th e cam th a t h ad held m e an d th a t now becam e the anchor. Pierre cam e up and continued across the traverse th at I had helped clear o f treacherous snow fo rm a tions. At 3 a.m . I started up w hat I h o p ed w ould be th e last pitch. T he keychain th e rm o m e te r on my pack show ed −15° C. Between th e fatigue an d th e sp in d rift blow ing from th e su m m it ridge, it felt colder. My first charge, up the rig h t-h an d b ran ch o f the chim ney, g ro u n d to a halt at an unprotected, overhanging offwidth. The left-hand branch did n o t look m uch m ore p ro m ising, b u t after trying to squeeze and th en dry -to o l m y way up, I sham elessly h u n g from a few knifeblades to gain m ore reasonable g ro u n d above. W ind gusted across th e su m m it ridge as I struggled into my belay jacket and overm itts. I was too cold an d tired to feel ex u ltatio n , only relief. Pierre cam e up, som ehow m an h a n d lin g b o th o u r packs. As we traversed across the w in d -sco u red so u th e rn slopes, they slowly tu rn e d from black to gray. Day was breaking. Six h o u rs later, after w ading dow n avalanche slopes th at thankfully stayed put, and post-holing to the g round w ith every step in the woods, we were back at the car. We had a b ottle o f single m alt w aiting for us, b u t were too dehydrated to celebrate. We bru sh ed a thick layer o f fresh snow from the ro o f o f the car an d drove off to find water. Mt. C hephren, Dogleg C ouloir (V + M 7 A l), M arch 22-24, 2008. R a p h a e l S l a w in s k i,
C anada, A A C
together, and call it an anchor. The next rockband w ent easily, and it was tim e to find a bivy. We slept so well in o u r com fortable cave th at we overslept the alarm . O utside, the clouds were bare ly above o u r bivy site. By m id -m o rn in g it started snow ing, and su d d en ly th e sky was full o f rocks, and Pierre cam e h am m e rin g dow n the chim ney. We fo u n d th e tool he had lost d u rin g the fall, b u t his hip was bruised, and I w ent up to finish the pitch. As he clim bed past my stance, I rem ark ed cheerfully th a t it looked like th e angle eased above, the chim ney tu rn in g into a snow gully. For the first b u t n o t the last tim e th a t day, I was right about the snow bu t w rong about the angle. Snow choked the overhanging chim ney above, and tw o hard pitches later we em erged o n to the snow ledge below the final rock band. By then the light snow had tu rn e d in to a sw irling m ass o f heavy flakes. W ith strange d eta c h m e n t I w atched sm all slides start on the ledge an d gather volum e as they disappeared dow n th e ch im ney, follow ing the parallel lines o f th e ropes. Tools slid o ff o f m arginal edges, a n d c ram p o n s sparked on the sm ooth lim estone, as I m anaged the next pitch w ith o u t falling. Actually, th at is not quite true. I was standing on a snow m u sh ro o m fiddling a nu t into crack w hen I felt myself fall— and then stop. The um bilical on m y tool had caught my plum m et. W hile Pierre seconded the pitch, I tried to m em orize the terrain above the belay in the fading light. The chim ney sys tem co n tin u ed straight up, w hile off to th e right w eird snow blobs seem ed to prom ise lowerangle terrain. I headed that way first, only to retreat below a blank wall. I was balancing between snow m ushroom s, traversing back left above P ierre’s stance, w hen overhanging rock and snow rushed upw ard. I bounced to a stop 10m lower, u n h arm ed . I yarded back up to th e cam th a t h ad held m e an d th a t now becam e the anchor. Pierre cam e up and continued across the traverse th at I had helped clear o f treacherous snow fo rm a tions. At 3 a.m . I started up w hat I h o p ed w ould be th e last pitch. T he keychain th e rm o m e te r on my pack show ed −15° C. Between th e fatigue an d th e sp in d rift blow ing from th e su m m it ridge, it felt colder. My first charge, up the rig h t-h an d b ran ch o f the chim ney, g ro u n d to a halt at an unprotected, overhanging offwidth. The left-hand branch did n o t look m uch m ore p ro m ising, b u t after trying to squeeze and th en dry -to o l m y way up, I sham elessly h u n g from a few knifeblades to gain m ore reasonable g ro u n d above. W ind gusted across th e su m m it ridge as I struggled into my belay jacket and overm itts. I was too cold an d tired to feel ex u ltatio n , only relief. Pierre cam e up, som ehow m an h a n d lin g b o th o u r packs. As we traversed across the w in d -sco u red so u th e rn slopes, they slowly tu rn e d from black to gray. Day was breaking. Six h o u rs later, after w ading dow n avalanche slopes th at thankfully stayed put, and post-holing to the g round w ith every step in the woods, we were back at the car. We had a b ottle o f single m alt w aiting for us, b u t were too dehydrated to celebrate. We bru sh ed a thick layer o f fresh snow from the ro o f o f the car an d drove off to find water. Mt. C hephren, Dogleg C ouloir (V + M 7 A l), M arch 22-24, 2008. R a p h a e l S l a w in s k i,
C anada, A A C
