The Analysis

It was a bluebird day. Why didn’t we get to the top?

It all started last year after we did our guided climb of Willey’s Slide. We thought “Hey this is awesome! Where can we do more like this?” So I started searching. First thing I did was determine what kind of climb Willey’s is (ice climb rated II WI2), then searched for more like it.

Gothics North Face came up. It’s a grade II and pretty damn close to Grace Camp.

Perfect!

Now time for some beta. The descriptions (at least the parts I paid attention to I guess) made it sound like a steep snow climb. Much like what we did a few years back on the Right Right Gully in Tuckerman’s ravine. All we’d need is what we already had (mountaineering axes, crampons) and some snow pickets, a few screws, and some other climbing related gear. I told everyone interested in doing the climb they’d need to provide their own harness, helmet, sling, snow picket, some carabiners and technical ice tools if they wanted them. I would provide ice screws, rope and additional climbing equipment if deemed necessary.

Within a month or so, I’d had all additional climbing equipment (screws, technical ice tool, etc. that I thought I’d need). By the time summer rolled around, I had all the gear we’d need.

And the route looked pretty straight forward.

Just about straight up the mountain.

Then a month before we’re about to go, I read about the Rescue on Nippletop and the corresponding explanation.

Crap. Ok. This is scary. What are we getting into? Yeah, climbing is dangerous, accidents are going to happen, but this really hit home. Are we getting in over our heads? In the following days I spent hours scouring the ADK High Peaks Forums looking for additional Gothics North Face slide information. Eventually I found a thread listing the slides in order of difficulty (which unfortunately I can’t find now). Seeing Gothics North Face listed near the top put things back into perspective and all was good again. Problem #1 – finding only two sources for beta. I should have done a more exhaustive search for details/descriptions of the climb and other people’s experiences.

Due to a last minute cancellation there was only 5 of us this year. No big deal. We’re all fit and physically capable guys. Everyone has been on the previous ADK trips we’ve done. Most of the time they are the guys out front and I’m the one way way behind. The five should be fine. Problem #2 – assuming climbing capability based off previous hiking/biking expeditions.

First objective was to find and navigate the bushwhack to the base of the climb/face. I’m pretty familiar with the trail from which the bushwhack starts, but the details were still a bit sketchy – “.5 mile past lean-to you come to a drainage that is as deep as a man is high. Head left/south up the drainage staying on the right fork for a half mile to the base of the climb”.

Hmmm. That seems clear enough, but I created a bunch of GPS markers/waypoints in my GPS device just in case.

Regardless if we found it, we still had the burden of hiking the half mile bushwhack. For those not familiar with bushwhacks, they generally suck. It means hiking where there is no trail and no easily passable way. That means not only are you trying to maintain a direction, but you’re doing it through densely vegetated forest which often sets you off course to avoid such obstacles as downed trees or branches that are too clustered to get through. Not to mention we’re all wearing snowshoes over 3′ snow depths with 20lb packs on our backs. Spruce traps abound. Not to mention fallen log holes (in the woods where you get heavy drifting snow it’s entirely possible to cover voids with snow (me in such a void in the Great Gulf next to Mt. Washington). Put the right amount of weight and distribution across the top and fall through into the hazards below. Though east coast technical snow shoes significantly reduce this risk, it’s still a risk in my book.

So let’s step back. To get to the climb we had to hike a specific distance of trail, then a bushwhack. Based on that knowledge I estimated the time to get to the base of the climb from the cabin to be two hours. If it took two hours to get there and nobody wanted to get up before the sun, we decided to wake up at 6am, hit the trail by 8am (usually takes our group 2 hours to get out the door), then make the climb by 10am. On that day (for all kinds of reasons) it took us three hours to get out the door. We left the cabin shortly before 9am. Problem #3 – we got up too late and had too much to do the morning of the climb.

We found the bushwhack and made our way up the drainage. I wasn’t sure it was the right way until the face started to loom ahead of us. The closer we got the bigger it got and the clearer it got. I have to admit, at first I was scared. At first I was thinking “holy shit I can’t do this.” Then, like a light switch, I thought I could. Not only did I think I could do it, but I couldn’t wait to do it. I was thrilled to do it. The bigger it got the more excited I got. I started planning routes on the face – looking at the options and changing my mind for something better as it came into view.

Craig and I started bouncing ideas off each other. “What do you think of this route?” or “What about that snow patch next to those trees? See the snow in the giant C?”

It was scary (our mental cohesion), but we were totally in tune.

The plan from the start was to let Craig lead once we all roped up. He’s kind of a “Me First!” kind of guy (for lack of a better term) and I’ve found it easier to embrace it than fight it. Next would be me, then Jamie and/or Chris with Sean running the tail.

But we weren’t there yet. We were just coming out of the trees and climbing the huge snow banks up to the rock. At this point Sean was leading while Craig and I were in the back getting giddy. Then the snow got steep. Steep enough to require Sean to start making switch backs. The group got quiet. Beyond a few discussions as to when and where we’d rope up and switch from snowshoes to crampons, there was nothing but wind and our own exertion filling our ears.

Finally we reached the rock ledge at the base of the climb. There was some commotion as to what to do and how to get situated in the snow drifts, but everyone figured it out and dug their own little ledge/cubby in which to change and get ready.

The mood was definitely tense as everyone took off their snowshoes, dug through their packs for extra layers, gear and food. It was at this point I had some inclination that something other than excitement was creeping into the psyche of the climb. Was it fear, confusion, or just anticipation of the unknown? I wasn’t sure, but let it ride. I thought a little edge is good to keep people sharp.

Once we had it all together, we roped up in the order I previously laid out. Everyone was wearing a harness, so starting with Craig we began tying figure eight knots and clipping into our harnesses. It was a 30M rope (approx. 104′),so between each person was roughly 20′ of rope. That gave you no more than 40′ between you and the guys roped to you. We decided to clip instead of completely tying in because we weren’t sure how much we’d be using the rope for belays/etc (i.e. taking it on and off).

Since the attempt I’ve gone back and forth whether the 30M rope was enough or should we have used 60M? Yeah. Thirty meters is a little short for 5 guys, but considering what I saw, the shortness may have provided some ounce of security for some. Regardless if there’s ever some other attempt like this with 5 people, I’m probably taking a 60M to use. You can always take in coils – assuming you know how. In the end was 30M a problem? No. Would 60M be better for 5? Yes.

Time was around 11:30. GPS coordinates: 44.13178,-73.85894 Roughly 3,600 ft.

So now we’re roped up, fed, wearing extra layers and wielding sharp pointy things from our feet and hands.

Craig and I head out for our intended route from the ledge. We wanted to start a little right of where we were. Left was easier, but right would have us starting out with a light scramble up and over the ledge. What better way to start a climb than throwing your axe into some satisfying ice and pulling yourself up into the void.

Thwack!

Craig’s axe made a very unsatisfying  point of contact with rock.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

What the hell?

I tried.

Thwack!

There wasn’t any ice. In fact, there was barely anything covering the rock. The snow we saw most everywhere above turned out to be the slightest dusting. There was no grip, anchor, or solid feeling by which to pull ourselves up.

Seeing our failure to get traction, Sean took the lead from the back and led us toward the left where there was more snow and less ledge.

More snow, but only marginally. Instead of the familiar crunch and grip that snow usually provides on rock, what we had was a light and loose granular surface that diminished any sense of traction. We were basically “climbing” on bare rock with dusty snow in between our crampon points.

And the climbing was difficult. There was sliding, crawling, and falling. We switchbacked then back again following the greater depths of snow that we could find. Any little ledge, edge or crack that provided some leeward accumulation of snow, we were in it. Granted that was our overall plan to make it to the top, but that plan included at least a foot of snow in which to crunch and climb. We only had centimeters or inches at best.

Because of our reversed order, Craig and I had a very detailed view as to how the climb was progressing or more or less not. We saw nothing but struggle and the clock was ticking. Before starting out we’d set a turn back time of 2pm. It was now between 12 and 1 and we’d hardly made a quarter of the climb. Considering it was only going to get harder the steeper it got, this just wasn’t going to happen. A quick discussion. A look around the surrounding area and we decided to pull the plug on Gothics, climb down and check out the smaller/”safer” slide on Gooseberry Mountain.

I shouted up to Sean and told him to take it to the side and into the trees. At the trees Sean thought we were regrouping and taking a more peripheral route where there was more snow. I said no. We were pulling the plug. The climb was over. We ran out of time.

Time was around 13:00. GPS coordinates: 44.13202,-73.85845 Roughly 3,700 ft.

In about an hour’s time we’d only ascended 100′. The top was still 900′ away.

It wasn’t going to happen. Between the conditions and the experience of our group, I felt the risk was too high to make the summit.

In the trees we had some coffee, ate some food, switched back to our snowshoes, then descended through the snow and trees along the left flank.

The black indicates the route we managed to climb. The dotted red line is the route we would have taken to the top.

Within 45 minutes we were back down and at the base of the Gooseberry climb.

GPS coordinates: 44.13532,-73.86275

The hike down was beautiful. The weather was perfect. I took my time and soaked it all in. It was great to be outside and active on such an amazing day in such an amazing place. As I descended it finally occurred to me how amazing it was we even found this place. I never had any idea it was here or this big and beautiful and we found it on our first attempt.

At the bottom of Gooseberry it was time to get back to business. From the bottom I could see almost the entire slide.

It was mostly snow covered with a few ice bulges to play on. It was the perfect spot to try things out and asses the group and our capabilities – something I should have done long before planning the Gothics climb (hindsight…). Sean and Jamie went right on up with their packs and snowshoes. Chris, Craig and myself dropped our packs at the bottom and took only our climbing essentials. The climbing was easy – mostly shin deep snow with some crunch here and there – the kind of conditions I expected on Gothics.

About 3/4 of the way up there was a nice double stack ice bulge (two on top of each other) with a downed tree a few meters above. It all made for a nice belay and playful ice climb – not too steep and a good mix of requiring tools and just walking with sure footing. Unfortunately “the group” had summit fever and were desperately trying to find their way to the end of the slide and onto the view-less summit (Gooseberry doesn’t have a treeline, therefor is very unlikely to have any view). Patiently I waited the bouts of machismo as one guy tried to out climb the other for what amounted to nothing.

Finally defeated and convinced their efforts were futile they came back down to help with the setup of the belay.

It was a simple little climb. No one fell or even as much slipped. It wasn’t very hard, but it gave everyone a chance to swing their axes and get a feel for the traction ice can provide. I also got a chance to try and set some ice screws. I found out very quickly what it’s like to turn your screws through shallow ice and into rock. Yeah. Not the best thing for the screw points, but how are you going to learn without trying?

So we had our fun and the assessments made on Gooseberry certainly confirmed the decision to bail on Gothics. It was time to head back to camp.

To be continued…

– b