claimed, “I’m going to do this climb even if it kills me.” We chopped steps up a small snowfield and joined the conga-line of climbers up the fabulously loose and wet chimney. Thirty minutes of hairy soloing and grassy climbing brought us to Broadway Ledge. To our dismay, a party of climbers had beaten us to the punch. We heaved a sigh of discontent and made our way to the base, to assume our spot in queue. Cole linked the first two 5.9 pitches into a mega rope-stretcher, which set me up nicely for the sandbagged pitch of sustained 5.9+ that followed. The crux pitch was next, and, upon making it to my belay, I could see that Cole was in no shape to lead the splitter overhanging slightly above our heads. I sucked it up, thrashing through the thin-hands crack, only to be confronted with its continuation above. The next pitch, a rope-stretching offwidth, sucked every last calorie from my body. After plenty of cursing, I flopped onto the belay ledge. One more pitch to go, I thought. Cole then brought us to the shoulder of Long’s peak. With a storm approaching, we ran up to the summit and then feverishly downclimbed the Cables Route. Hail pelted us as we jumped and jogged our way down the scree. We escaped, unscathed, un-electrocuted, and proceeded the seven miles down to the car. After a much needed rest day the Hubris Brothers set off for their next mission, Wunsch’s Dihedral (II 5.11). In the Cathedral Spires, we were greeted by bluebird skies and the joyful bubbling of the South Platte River. Temperatures soared over 95°F, too hot for the Breashear’s start. Disheartened, we scampered up the original 5.9 pitch, which planted us right below the amazing overhanging hand crack on the second pitch. We cruised up this baby, full of bird feces at the time, to the cave that denotes the start of the third pitch. My mouth waters just thinking about the third pitch: a roof with deep hand jams, which leads to a grueling, overhanging, finger-sized dihedral; the best pitch that I’ve climbed in the Platte. I aided through the ridiculous line of nubbins on the final pitch. We quickly scribbled in an ascent by the Hubris Brothers and started on our descent. Salvation! Two down, one more to go. At least that’s what we thought until we started the long hike down. A long-weekend already, we brooded on the way down. With important laboratory work and a trip to the Bugaboos later that week, we had come to a wordless agreement: the Naked Edge would have to wait. The Colorado Triple Crown is still out there for any audacious CC climber up for a good adventure. The Hubris brothers have since retreated to Colorado 24
CCAJ
Springs, nursing their egos and preparing for more impudent adventures. Summary The Diamond, Rocky Mountain National Park Pervertical Sanctuary, IV 5.11The Cynical Pinnacle, Cathedral Spires, CO Wunsch’s Dihedral, II 5.11
Unemployment Makes the Heart Grow Fonder Hale Melnick (‘10)
During the spring and summer of 2012, I had the best partner a climber could ask for: an unemployed one. Granted, not all unemployed climbers make for great partners—some are lazy, some are incompetent, and a few are so obsessed with climbing that I’d rather stick a nut tool in my eye than listen to their latest rant about grade inflation. But Tim Gibson (‘10) is none of these things. A talented and motivated climber, he will climb just about anywhere and on anything and be happy about it. Just plan for long days and don’t forget your headlamp. In July, Tim and I met up with CC alums Becca Schild (‘04) and Chris Barlow (‘04) to climb in Rocky Mountain National Park. It was a brutally hot summer, and the high alpine was an ideal refuge from the heat. We decided on Glacier Gorge, probably because of its suggestively cold name. On Saturday evening, we packed up Becca and Chris’s warrior-hula-princess-minivan, Jody, and in one giant push made it all the way to Lyons. After a quick sleep, we headed out, still in the darkness, to RMNP. As it turns out, getting to Spearhead involves a six-mile hike and a few thousand feet of elevation gain. I was completely oblivious to this fact when we left the trailhead and exhaustion almost claimed my life several times on the approach. But the payoff was a magnificent sunrise through one of the greatest national parks in the U.S. We traveled through forest, scree, and eventually high alpine lakes. Lily-pad-covered ponds and streams guarded by tall green grass surrounded us, and despite my pitiful, exhausted state, my spirit was high and I felt refreshed. I often forget about the magic of the wilderness, especially with so many roadside crags and gyms right by my house, but that awe-struck feeling came back quickly and has stayed with me for some time. After a few hours, we stood at the base of Spearhead under bluebird skies and a towering wall of granite.