Christmas is Come Early This Year

Another peak experience by Martha Perantoni

I’d heard the fall color in Grand County had exploded last weekend, so I grabbed a friend and her son and his fiancé and we headed up to Tabernash and on to Junco Lake Trailhead, intent on reaching Columbine Lake.

True, the aspen trees were luminous yellow and some were even tipped with an unusual bittersweet orange. True, there were significant colorful groves that warranted making the journey from the Front Range.

True, also, the pine beetle has ravaged the remainder of the forests, each tree a sad addition to the brown citadel. At least that which remains – clear-cutting has left the rolling hills looking like a bald man’s hair on a bad day.

We grew silent as we turned onto Meadow Creek Road and found ourselves in an alleyway of devastation. We couldn’t hit the trail soon enough and began to wind our way closer and closer to timberline.

Something looked strange along the trail, though. In spite of the towering dead trees, there were countless young pine, some only a foot or two high, some over six feet, that were green, healthy, and pushing their way up through the quietus. Closer in by the waterfall and before heading up the moraine, the branch tips on the trees revealed the bluish-green of new growth. Every tree had it, looking as if to explode with enthusiasm.

Instead, I felt to explode with arbor ardor. Here I’ve been bemoaning the death of Colorado’s forests when all this time, underneath the canopy, they’ve been silently restoring and repairing themselves. I had no idea.

I paused in front of one particularly beautiful young pine. My friend saw my face and stopped. “Christmas Tree?” she asked. I smiled and shook my head “yes. Not to cut, but to celebrate.”

It’s comforting to know that the forests will abide – they’ll repair, regrow, have their literal rebirth. I’m hopeful that this turnabout will be permanent, that the new trees will be a strain resistant to the pine beetle, and that our forests will rejuvenate to the lush, wind-in-the-pines life they had less than a decade ago.

So, before the snow flies, revel in our new growth. Go celebrate Christmas.

Il Neige!

Another peak experience by Martha Perantoni

A couple of nights ago I was driving west on 72 as it approaches 93. The clouds were louring and it rained sporadically from Westminster on down. Then something changed – the sounds on the windshield turned to a patter and, as I looked more closely, it was clear I was watching snow fall. Not much, no accumulation, but it was definitely snow.

The precipitation was confirmed next morning when I awoke to see a fairy dusting of the stuff on the Continental Divide. Further spelunking through Dick Gilbert’s webcams proved it.

It snowed in them thar hills.

For people like me who prefer their water frozen, this is the news we wait for all season long. Time to start getting ready – wax the skis and skins, sharpen the crampons and axes, put fresh Lithium batteries in the beacon.

And time to share the love. The annual Bent Gate Ski Season Kickoff Party 2010 is prepared to do just that on Thursday, September 30th starting at 6 PM at the American Mountaineering Museum. Silent auction, raffle, backcountry clinics, vendor booths, fashion show, and world premier of The Freeheel Life 2 are all included in admission price.

Okay, so the movie is a production of Telemark Skier Magazine and features the tele timeline but Randonée enthusiasts, like me, are invited, too. Hey, it’s still freeheelin’.

Proceeds from the event benefit the American Mountaineering Museum, Friends of Berthoud Pass, and the Colorado Avalanche Information Center. Rack up your backcountry karma points before heading out, eh?

Bien alors, faire le neige!

Fall...Forward

Another peak experience by Martha Perantoni

By now you’re aware there’s a crispness in the evening air, the sun sets earlier and earlier, and the aspen are beginning to change color in the high country. The elk are bugling wildly and bear fattening up for a long winter sleep. This is one of my favorite times of year because it’s a chance to introspect, hibernate, and dream...forward.

As a kid growing up in Vermont, the autumn season was glorious. We viewed every hue of maple from yellow to bittersweet to Mars red and when the leaves began to fall, we diligently raked them into huge piles on the front lawn just so we could jump in them.

It may seem the impending winter is a time to shut down when, in fact, it’s always been a superb opportunity for learning. There’s little better than snuggling down in the rocking chair with a good book, a fuzzy lap throw and cat, and glass of chewy Shiraz, or listening to the crisp creak of snow underfoot heading for an inspiring presentation.

In preparation for this seasonal glory, the American Mountaineering Museum and AAC Library are setting a wonderful tone. September 21st, Jean Mollicone, first woman to summit Mt. Vinson, Antarctica, will recount her historic summit with Mugs Stump, one of the most beloved of American mountaineers. September 30th, get ready for ski season with Bent Gate’s Ski Season Kick-Off Party through a silent auction, fashion show, raffle, The Freeheel Life film in the Foss, avy and beacon clinics and camaraderie all to benefit CAIC, Friends of Berthoud Pass, and the AMM. October 6th Gyatso will help us understand Tibetan lifestyle, culture and environment and the Westernization changes it faces. And on October 28th, continue to challenge the theory that the Yeti don’t exist with Yeti night at the Museum – prizes for best costume and Yeti crafts for the kids.

Not your style? Consider a good book. The American Alpine Club Library is full of them. Historic, factual, inspirational, or just durned good reading. Check ‘em out, grab the cat, pour the wine, and revel in the possibility next summer will offer you.

PS Like this photo? Fred Hanselmann has the best eye for Colorado color and composition of anyone I’ve ever known. His photos are available for purchase in Base Camp Adventure Store. What better way to preserve the memories!

Kechu

When Thomas Montgomerie triangulated two new peaks in the Karakoram, he had no idea he’d discovered not only the second highest peak on earth, but also the second most dangerous. And while Karakorum 1 was known locally as Masherbrum, no one seemed to know of a local name for K2. As Fosco Maraini quipped “...just the bare bones of a name, all rock and ice and storm and abyss…it makes no attempt to sound human… it is atoms and stars…has the nakedness of the world before the first man - or of the cindered planet after the last…” so calling the mountain K2 seemed more than appropriate and it stuck.

Superseded only by Annapurna as the most dangerous 8000m peak to climb, 25% of those who attempt the savage mountain perish. Not only is it technically one of the most challenging and committing, its extreme weather patterns can cause deadly delays. Only 302 have successfully summited and at least 77 others have died trying.

The challenges of the mountain make for great story-telling as well. Fatal attempts in 1939 and 1953, a troublesome first summit by the Italians in 1954, and finally the 13 deaths in 1986 and 11 more within hours of each other in 2008 give real-time chronicles of the epics these mountaineers face.

Enter Freddie Wilkinson whose alpinist wisdom and media savvy combined with knowledge of Sherpa culture brings to light what happened during the most recent multiple-fatality day. None of the surviving Western climbers could explain what happened, their memories fogged by hypoxia, exhaustion, and hallucinations. The truth of what transpired lies with four Sherpa guides who were largely ignored by the mainstream media in the aftermath of the tragedy and whose heroic efforts saved the lives of at least four climbers.

Wilkinson’s narrative voice is biting and witty and, while trying not to be too critical of the media’s push for speed over accuracy, he manages to pull the truth of what really occured when a collapsing serac over the Bottleneck severed fixed lines and dragged more than a dozen alpinists down the mountainside.

We’re excited to have the author present these findings in person on Monday, September 13th, beginning at 6 PM in the Foss Auditorium at the AMC in Golden. Reviews are non-stop positive and there’s much buzz not just about Freddie, but about his ability to weave a compelling tale. As one reviewer stated, a lot of climbers write (and not very well) but not a lot of writers climb.

Leave No Trace has Entered the Building

The Exit Strategies has come and gone but the message is beginning to rebound and the subsequent concentric ripples are rolling through a larger and larger realm.

This blogger won’t go through the details and reports from the conference. There are plenty of those on the AAC website.

This blogger also acknowledges that the problem isn’t restricted to alpine environments. And it’s not limited to simply hikers. It is a much bigger global problem than one conference of 140 conservationists and scientists can address.

I hiked out to Chicago Lakes from Echo Lake a few days ago. While I’ve snowshoed in during winter months, I’d not had the simple luxury of a summer hike and made it my choice for a perfect Rocky Mountain day. To those unfamiliar with the hike, the first mile drops from Echo Lake into Chicago Creek canyon. Four more miles up past the Idaho Springs Reservoir and you’re atop the moraine enjoying a spectacular Mt Evans cirque view.

On a summer Sunday, Echo Lake becomes a water park for Front Range folk escaping the heat and the trail to the Chicago Creek crossing busy as a fish peddler during Lent. It’s a favorite spot for families with small children and pets and, as we know, neither can control their personal functions very well.

As I hiked back across the Creek, a family with four small children was preparing to leave the area. I heard the father ask if anyone needed to go to the bathroom. On reflex I shouted to them “not in the creek you don’t!” I stepped back and quickly explained to my startled company the ramifications of urinating in a stream that flowed into a city water supply and the 100-foot rule of backcountry waterways.

Hiking back around the north side of the Lake, I sidled up to a woman whose dog had “assumed the position” and was leaving its trace in the lake. She was as stunned as the previous party when I pointed out the children dangling their feet in the water alongside the parties fishing for trout to toss in the fry pan.

These were seven people out of the hundreds at Echo Lake Park on one Sunday. It’s a miniscule start but I’ve added to my wish list that concentric ripples of wisdom, ownership and Leave No Trace turn tsunami.

All it takes is a little nudge from each of us.

Exit, Stage One

There’s a fair bit of buzz about what this blogger refers to as The Poop Group. Not to be irreverent, but it’s a little more to the point than calling this weekend’s international conference at the American Alpine Club Exit Strategies.

I’ve lifted the following description from the AAC website: included are top land managers, scientists, entrepreneurs, and wilderness participants from around the globe to discuss and formulate strategies for managing human waste in remote areas. The Exit Strategies conference will include general/plenary sessions, poster presentations, field-proven techniques and opportunities for focused problem solving.

There’s nothing new in this conversation. Those of us who regularly hike global trails continue to see the effects of poop, wandering off-trail, erosion, selfishness, you name it. It’s disconcerting at best, given how finite this natural resource is in the face of an exploding population and interest level.

Let me be direct and maybe a little preachy. How do YOU manage your waste? Do you urinate on wildflowers thinking it’ll hydrate them? Do you leave toilet paper on the ground convinced it will biodegrade? And what about the dog? Just this weekend I was hiking on South Boulder Creek trail to find that someone had dutifully scooped the pooch’s poop in a red plastic bag – then left it tied to a tree branch overhanging the trail. BLECH!

It’s not so tough to clean up after ourselves. Pee on a rock instead of wildflowers and the mountain goats will lick the urine off the rock instead of destroying the plant. Bring a plastic container with a tablespoon of baking soda, a shovel and scoop your poop and TP into it for the trip out. Notice I didn’t say Ziploc bag – they’re not biodegradable and the chance you’ll empty the bag and clean it is a big goose egg. A container works just as well and d’oh! it’s reusable, just like a pee bottle! No need to buy those fancy expensive kits – K.I.S.S.! Leave no trace is not a big deal, either – pack it in, pack it out, done deal. It ain’t feces science and it’ll still be lighter out than on the inbound trip.

Before climbing down off my soap box, I admonish you to take a stand or, rather, a squat with Your Mother in mind. Do some research and some reading and do your part. And keep an ear to the ground for the results of the Poop Group convention. Just think how icky it would be if the ground was covered in something…oh, never mind.

Der Letzte Mensch oder Übermensch?

The Last Man. In his philosophical novel, Also Sprach Zarathustra, Friedrich Nietzsche saw that nothing great was possible for the Last Man. It was Nietzsche's contention that Western civilization would continue to move in the direction of The Last Man, an apathetic creature, who had no great passion or commitment, who was unable to dream, who merely earned his living and kept warm.

Not so the last man on the mountain. In 1939, Boston aristocrat Dudley Wolfe set out to become the first person to summit K2. Inexperienced at high altitude, overweight, middle-aged, and unfulfilled in a life of leisure, Wolfe traveled thousands of miles to try and impress his ex-wife, only to be abandoned by his German-American expedition mates at 7000 meters. After almost two weeks languishing in his tent in the Death Zone he perished from acute AMS. A huge international scandal subsequently developed: it was Wolfe’s friend and expedition leader, alpinist Fritz Wiessner, and his deputy Jack Durrance who came under close scrutiny for inviting him solely on the strength of his bank account. His body remained in the clutches of the savage summit for 63 years.

Until Wolfe reappeared after K2’s unusually high snowmelt in 2002 exposed the remains to author and film-maker Jennifer Jordan. Walking along a remote stretch of the Godwin-Austin glacier near Base Camp, pieces of human bone, canvas tent, cook pots, and finally an old mitten with “Wolfe” written near the cuff appeared strewn about the glacier as if waiting for Jordan’s keen eye to discover them. And so the story began.

The Last Man or Superman? You decide after hearing Jennifer Jordan’s presentation at the American Mountaineering Museum on August 11th. Her novel, The Last Man on the Mountain, is fresh off the press and she’s touring the country helping unravel the mystery that’s prevailed around this controversial expedition. Whether Wolfe had aspirations driven by spiritual apathy or rampant ego, Jennifer will offer well-researched and compelling facts with photos and discussion beginning at 7 PM.

K2 is Übermensch territory, more foreboding than almost any other 8000 meter peak. It bears the second highest fatality rate among the eight-thousanders. Italian climber Fosco Maraini concluded that K2 was “all rock and ice and storm and abyss. It makes no attempt to sound human. It is atoms and stars. It has the nakedness of the world before the first man - or of the cindered planet after the last."

I’m sure Dudley Wolfe would agree.