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The Northwest Face of Pyramid Peak
Posted on Thursday, October 15 @ 00:27:30 EDT by adam |
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Beginnings
I had my eye on the northwest face of Pyramid Peak for quite a while before actually going there to check it out. Although this early attention led to some temporary frustration during the journey to climbing a route on this face, in the end it made it more satisfying. Pyramid Peak captured my interest several years ago because it was the closest mountain to me that felt like a 'real' mountain (e.g. at least a couple thousand feet of windswept rock and snow, you know what I mean). My first glimpse of the mountain came when I climbed up Horsetail Falls in the snow one May weekend wearing shorts and trailrunners and didn't even own an ice-axe. The rest of the party was complaining that we should go back (especially Squishy, who at the time smoked more and was much more sedentary than he is today), but I had to press on through the snow until I finally caught a glimpse of the reclusive Pyramid Peak that the internet claimed was right there (little did I know at the time that when the air is clear enough, such as on a cold, crisp winter morning, I can actually see the Crystal Range just blocks from where I live). In the several years since my first peek at the peak, I've managed to explore most aspects of Pyramid Peak, as well as much of the high Crystal Range. Due to the convenient location, Pyramid Peak is an ideal testing ground for all sorts of techniques in various seasons. This is a story encompassing several of these ventures into the wilderness, though it seems you have to go a bit out of your way to find true desolation given the number of people in Desolation Wilderness (due mostly to the same proximity and ease of access that led me there). However, there are many obscure yet spectacular areas that see relatively little use if you take the time to find them. The area north of the peak, containing the NW face as well as the Pyramid Couloir, is one of them.
I don't recall the exact origins of the premise, but once we started learning to rock climb and accumulating climbing gear it seemed like a no-brainer to try for technical routes on the mountain. The only aspect that would accommodate this goal was the hidden face tucked into a west facing corner that is barely visible outside the basin below it and the neighboring peaks immediately to the north. Luckily, we had noticed it during a number of previous hiking and scrambling trips into the basin and climbing Mt. Agassiz, including the unnamed tarns in the basin, the higher of which is the perfect basecamp. Click read more for the rest of the route.
By digging through thousands of digital photos, I found numerous pictures allowing a closer examination of the features of the face from various angles, even though only a handful were taken with climbing the face in mind. Meanwhile, Squishy discovered that a handful of routes were already present (this was expected given the location of this popular peak). These routes had been put up by Bob Branscomb, who described them in the 1980 American Alpine Journal. The descriptions were not quite enough to pick out the routes in photos (though we didn't try all that hard). What actually interested me more was the possibility of a solid class 3 route on the NW face. The broken areas on the right side appeared to be low enough angle that a class 3-4 line seemed likely. There weren't really any other routes on the mountain that I knew of at the time that were more than glorified talus hopping with an occasional 'class 3' move or two if you kept an eye out, which doesn't quite scratch the scrambling itch. A good scrambling route is just what Pyramid needed (incidentally, we discovered such a route while climbing the face, though the it is not on the face itself: North Ridge Notch). There was a clear line dividing the steep aspects of the face with lower angle right side, so we figured we would aim for this line. At the very least we'd be able to get a good look at the whole thing from close up.
The possibility of getting in over our heads was always at the back of my mind. I'm not a particularly good climber. I've been leading less than a year and never led above 5.7 (and I usually max out at 5.9 on toprope even on a good day). Some would say it seemed inevitable that I'd get in trouble attempting to climb an alpine backcountry face with no beta on a route and all the described routes in the area above my climbing ability. But that wouldn't stop me. Although I am not a very accomplished climber, I am at least competent and cogniscent of my limits. Combined with my familiarity with the area, pretty good routefinding skills developed over years of scrambling in CA and CO, and the relative shortness of the climb (3 pitches at most), it didn't feel like I was taking on a significant risk as long as I kept my head on straight and was prepared to sack gear and bail should the need arise. I would not forget the leaver slings and rap rings. In the end it took three serious attempts starting in May 2009 before I managed to successfully climb a route on the face.
First Attempt
After pouring over pictures and observing the mountain from other distant peaks during the winter and spring, I became impatient and decided to plan a trip. I invited my wife and my brother to accompany me over Memorial Day weekend. We brought a small rack of nuts, cams, and hexes along with two ropes. We still expected a fair amount of snow, so we brought crampons and ice axes just in case (a fortunate thing in this case). About 2.5 miles in, the trail disappeared beneath a solid layer of snow. Slowed down by the route finding and exhausted by the snow, we only made it to Lake Sylvia before deciding to set up camp. Snow was abundant, so the next morning we set out with snow gear as well as our rack and ropes in hopes of conquering the face. After a snow slog and some treacherous steep loose talus, we found ourselves facing the peak. Snow still obscured the bottom of the wall and any climbing on the face looked short, if the moat could be crossed to get to it. We headed up the lower portion of the Pyramid Couloir and then turned toward a low point in the rock wall, which appeared to provide the best chance at access to the face. The moat turned out to be sketchier than it appeared from afar. Although I actually crossed onto the rock face at one point and climbed up a few moves, we ultimately decided to back off. The moat was clearly hazardous; even though we found a seemingly stable point to cross, any slip before we reached a ledge about 15 feet above and slightly right would send the unfortunate climber directly into an open abyss, after bouncing off a few jagged rocks of course. There was no place to remove crampons before the ledge, and none of us felt comfortable climbing to the ledge in crampons, even while belayed (aha! a new skill to work on!). However, I still managed to snap a few pictures before we descended back to the couloir and climbed that route instead. We still got an enjoyable day out of it since the weather and conditions in the couloir were beautiful, and Jake had never actually been on the summit of Pyramid Peak anyway. There was some rockfall directly over our intended climbing route on the face as soon as we returned to the couloir, just like an action movie cliche! Clearly we had made the right decision to back off.
Second Attempt
It would be more than a month before I'd get another chance at the face due to other obligations (e.g. Yosemite Bottom to Top). My interest also faded temporarily after I took a lead fall at Phantom Spires the following week and got pretty banged up in the process. It wasn't until after spending 4 days in Yosemite and failing to dayhike Mt. Shasta that the desire to revisit Pyramid and my unfinished business returned. For the next attempt, my brother couldn't make it and my wife decided to stay home. However, Squishy was now on board, and a colleague of mine decided to tag along for fun. This ill-fated trip in July lasted less than 24 hrs. We decided to travel as light as possible since there shouldn't be much snow and the weather was supposed to be good. Between the three of us, we only had a single tent with no rainfly for shelter (bad idea!). We left Sacramento early in the morning, and the weather was partly cloudy and pleasant for the hike in. We covered the 6 mile approach in about 3.5 hrs. We set up our meager camp at the upper tarn, and lounged around for a few hours to conserve our energy. As we relaxed, the sky began to change. Clouds that had been invisible behind the west ridge of Pyramid began to appear and darken the sky. This didn't bother us much, since we had all experienced the dramatic weather changes in the Sierra that led to the adage "if you don't like the weather in the Sierra, just wait". Our expectation of a short and pleasant thunderstorm suggested that we just relocate our gear someplace dry and wait for the storm to pass. Eventually, the rain started and we stashed our gear beneath overhanging rocks. We made the most of the rain, and practiced bouldering on slick, wet rocks. Three hours later, the rain was still coming down harder than ever and the temperature had dipped precipitously. We anticipated a short stretch of rain followed by an hour or two of sun based on the weather reports we had seen, but daylight waned as the rain continued. We started to seriously consider bailing out. It seemed there would be no sun to dry the rock on the face, which only gets direct sun in the afternoon. The climb would not be possible the following day, so after a long and heated discussion, we finally decided to descend and head home in defeat while there was still light rather than wait and be forced down in the dark if the weather worsened. The rain continued until we had passed Lake Sylvia at dusk, and then eased to a sprinkle. We reached the trailhead a bit after 10pm and were home around midnight. More rain appeared on the drive down, suggesting we made the right decision to leave when we did. I was so close this time I could feel it, and the frustation began to mount. The next opportunity came two weeks later.
The Northwest Face of Pyramid Peak
Once again, Toxoplasma decided to sleep in rather than come climbing, so it was just Squishy and me. We had the same game plan and schedule as last time: light and fast (but we brought a tent/fly this time, even though it proved unnecessary). By early afternoon, we were already relaxing by the upper tarn. After seeing a group decending the north ridge of Pyramid, we decided to head up to the obvious notch in the north ridge guarded by the Laughing Pillar (because it looks like a laughing head when viewed from the west). A short scramble with some solid third class slabs just below the notch rewarded us with spectacular views and provided a perfect descent route after climbing the face (see North Ridge Notch). We returned to camp and sipped on whiskey while contemplating the face until the sun went down.
We were up at dawn the next morning, prepared a simple breakfast and calmly sorted out our gear for the day. Soon we set out up the 600 vertical feet of talus and slabs that lay between us and the base of our climb. The scrambling was quite enjoyable despite carrying gear. Eventually we reached the base of the face, which seemed slightly less intimidating the closer we got, though a strange sense of unease remained. We decided to keep right because of a section of clean looking granite just under the groove dividing the broken slabs from the face proper. The previously described routes (see AAJ) were in the middle of the face, left of where we climbed. However, we still feel it is unlikely that our route is really a first ascent. Right in the middle of the pristine white granite lay a jagged flake snaking up to the gully above the upper face. The line was aesthetic, obvious, and more importantly looked to be within our meager abilities. We dropped our gear and stood on the ledge at the base of the climb pondering our next move. This line was the obvious choice, and it certainly looked fun. I got the first lead which would probably cover most if not all of the beautiful textured granite before reaching the loose and broken rock above. We paused for a bit to get in the right mindset for the climb; it is a bit nerve-wracking to start up a route when you have no idea how hard it is or what you'll run into above.
The first few moves confirmed the quality of the rock. The climbing on the first pitch was fanatastic. The initial section is easy, but getting into position to follow the flake up required a scary step out to a lieback on a seemingly featureless face. Even though this is low on the route, the sense of exposure can be dizzying due to 600 ft of 3rd class below. From there, various liebacks, jugs, and finger jams ascend the crack. Beautiful climbing on pristine granite! Near the top of the pitch I reached a series of cracks in rock that sounded hollow, so I was forced to runout the last 30 ft or so before reaching a wide ledge to belay from. I built an anchor before allowing myself to think about what I had just done: led an unknown pitch of alpine rock of unknown difficulty. Talk about a confidence booster! I felt like a real alpinist, rather than just an armchair mountaineer and weekend warrior.
Squishy commented on the rock quality and fun climbing as he ascended the pitch. We decided it was probably about 5.6 or 5.7 in difficulty. Soon after reaching the ledge, he set off up the second pitch angling slightly left into a gully toward the summit. The exposure felt less intimidating on this pitch because we weren't hanging over the face directly. Much of the climbing was only fourth class with a few loose sections, but there was a small 5.7 headwall in the middle of it with few options for pro. Squishy navigated this pitch carefully, and mentioned later that it required lots of attention to not rain loose rocks down on me below. At one point, he did knock down a couple of rocks, but they tumbled on either side of the carefully chosen belay ledge. Even so, I was still reassured to be wearing a helmet just in case. I cleaned the pitch quickly, and we were soon standing in the sun looking up at the short scramble to the summit (before the belay at the top of the second pitch, the entire climb had been in the shade). We unroped and hurried to the summit. We had done it!
We startled a middle-aged man on the summit talking to his wife on his cell phone. I guess he didn't expect anyone to come clinking up from the direction of the precipitous face. However, soon after we arrived a constant stream of people started popping up on the summit. By the time we left there were probably at least twelve people which had come from various other routes. We chatted with some of them for a while before descending the north ridge. It took most of the descent for it to really sink in that we had just climbed a potentially new route on the face of Pyramid Peak. We broke camp with smiles on our faces and headed out with dreams of sharing our exploits with anyone who would listen, though before we reached the car, we were already planning our next trip...
Click here for full size pics and a rss media gallery
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