Following a much needed down week between climbing trips I was finally headed up to climb Rebel Yell. After getting shut down earlier in the season due to rain and unstable snow conditions, the stoke was high to get back to Washington Pass. A few last minute hiccups threatened to end the trip—my original partner wound up in the hospital from an ultra run and I was falling victim a bad head cold. Nonetheless, I was able to get Bjorn on board for the trip and began pounding Emergen-C packets like nobody's business (this mostly just turned my pee into orange juice, but mentally it made me feel better).
Bjorn and I loaded up after work on Wednesday and pulled into our camp spot for the night around 11:30pm. Knowing we had a few days ahead of us, we opted to sleep in, make a big breakfast and get a game plan for the next few days.
Between mouthful of bagel, eggs, and coffee (just Emergen-C for me) we landed on a tentative itinerary of Rebel Yell (7 pitches of 5.9-5.10b crack climbing), Rampage (4 pitches of 5.7-5.10d flakes and stemming), and Clean Break (15ish pitches of 5.8-5.10c crack and variety). Admittedly this was an optimistic plan—Bjorn put our chances of success at 60/40 against, due to the amount of climbing near our limit and the fatigue that comes from back to back climbs in the alpine—not to mention the cold I was attempting to fight off.
At this point I can't quite remember what time we left the van to begin our hike, but it was very much the antithesis of the traditional "alpine start" I've grown to enjoy. In this case however, I was glad to have a belly full of food and a good night's sleep to combat my cold. Bjorn and I made a pit stop at Bench Camp to filter water and by 12:30pm we had set up camp at Burgundy Col and were racked up and hiking out to climb Rebel Yell.
This late in the day the snow was soft, making our approach to the base of the route uneventful. About an hour after leaving camp we found ourselves below the aesthetic, clean cracks of the route and we watched another party climb the third pitch as we racked up.
Eager and full of newfound energy, I volunteered to lead the first pitches. We decided to try out the new start, linking pitches 1 and 2, finishing with the 10b finger crack. By the time I reach the belay my forearms were pumped and I had all but climbed the length of the 70m rope. Regardless, I wore a big grin on my face as I belayed Bjorn up to me, reflecting on one of the best pitches of climbing I've done to date.
A quick belay swap and Bjorn was squeezing himself into the 5.9+ chimney above us. I told myself that my smaller size would play to my benefit as I listened to grunts and expletives escape the chimney. It's likely that I let out even more foul language than Bjorn when it was my turn to crawl up the thing. What felt like 30 minutes of caterpillar movement up through the chimney finally ended and the line spit me out and over a large bulge before I made the easy ramble up to Bjorn's belay.
By now the energy I had started the climb with was drained, but the sight of the hand cracks above us kept the mood positive and I headed out on lead toward the "blind step" section of pitch 4. I knew my gear was good and the falling was clean, but the physical toll on a sick immune system had some of my mental game operating at a detriment. I took a few minutes to move through the blind step, which requires a couple of committed slab moves out to a blind throw on an otherwise solid arête. Bjorn commented on the commitment of the moves as he arrived to the belay below pitch 5, which made me feel only slightly better about the delay I had taken. I grabbed a snack as we changed the rack over and soon enough Bjorn had fired into the thin hands crack of pitch 5.
Bjorn made quick work of the widening 5.10 crack and as I followed the steep grade sucked the last of my energy. I pulled myself to the base of pitch 6, my turn to lead. Feeling drained, I knew I hadn't eaten enough or taken in nearly enough water (an unfortunate effect of the cold). A little longer rest here gave me time to re-focus and get some encouragement from Bjorn while I tried to force down some food. My mind was eager to climb, but my body did not want to cooperate.
I grunted up the 4" crack making use of a nice corner that runs next to it, bumping a #4 cam all the way. I made it to the summit block without issue, soon finding Bjorn and I admiring the final 15 foot true summit block of Chianti Spire. I was fried—my asthma, coupled with the physical effort and congestion left me having a hard time breathing and I could feel my pulse throbbing. Yet, I felt pretty content. The hard efforts were over. All that stood between me and my sleeping bag were a couple of moves onto the summit block, some rappels and an easy hike back to camp.
Bjorn and I took turns climbing the summit block, opting for a nude summit in order to get the full experience of our rebel yells from atop the climb. Bjorn decided to climb the block and then disrobe, while I disrobed and then climbed—the pro's and con's of each approach are still being debated.
Following the naked yelling atop of a rock (an activity that I would argue should be enjoyed by more people—just don't try it at your local park), we collected our things and began the descent. All of the route beta we found noted that two ropes were required for the rappels - however, Bjorn and I agreed to attempt with a single 70m rope and were able to get down without much trouble in 6 rappels.
We stopped on the Silver Star glacier to refill water and before dark we had hot food to shovel into our faces. I was decidedly feeling the efforts of the day and only briefly questioned my sanity as I settled into bed; sleep took me almost instantly. By the time we had eaten breakfast and enjoyed a cup of coffee ( a double shot of Emergen-C for me), I was feeling recovered enough to tackle our next route—but only after Bjorn had agreed to lead the harder pitches.
>>>continue the misadventure on the next trip report: Paisano Pinnacle - Rampage (5.10d)
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