Amy-Vidailhet Route on Aguja Guillaumet

Heading up toward the route

For Dale's take on this adventure, check out his blog:
http://www.daleapgar.com/words/patagonia-2014-part-i

Our plan before making it down to Chalten included starting out on Aguja Guillaumet as a warm-up. We had wanted to hit the Brenner-Moschioni route on the North ridge, but it became clear once we made it to Chalten that our trip was not going to involve much pure rock climbing. All of the granite faces were plastered with snow and had cracks filled with ice, and the temperatures weren't rising enough to bake the wintry coats off of the towering granite peaks. "Play the hand you're dealt," we told ourselves. The clear back-up route was the Amy-Vidailhet, a snow and ice gully running up to the summit ridge.

Piedra Negra camp with Guillaumet behind

We were still figuring out the lay of the land and weather when the first "window" appeared on the meteogram. After spending one day in town after all of our traveling, we were rested and ready to hit it up. The forecast for our approach day was pretty miserable, but the following day looked good, or so we thought. The cab ride had rain pounding the windshield and we were dropped off at Rio Electrico under an ominous sky.

The first 2 hours to Piedra del Fraile went easily and quickly, but as we approached the exposed ridge heading to Piedra Negra, we began to feel the brunt of the weather. This section of the approach felt quite a bit like Aasgard Pass back in Washington. Driving winds and horizontal rain pelted us on our hike up to Piedra Negra and we found ourselves completely soaked by the time we made it to camp. No one else was up there. We struggled the tent up in the wind and hopped in immediately, not to emerge until the next morning.

Hot meals and warm sleeping bags helped us dry and thaw out before waking at dawn the next morning to give the climb a shot. We took a slight mis-step on our way up to Paso Guillaumet, but were able to traverse back to the col successfully and were greeted with a sunny, relatively calm day on the East side of the massif.

On the route

The climb was in perfect condition. The snow was well consolidated and had good, secure steps in it. Much of the route was full-on alpine ice that took good screws. We climbed along another pair of guys from Seattle and exchanged whoops and hollers of delight as one-hit wonders kept greeting us all the way up.

Unfortunately, the wind at the ridge was insanely strong and appeared to be getting worse by the minute. Snow started blowing straight up the gully as we turned around and rapped the route with our new friends. A set of 3 or 4 double-rope raps got us back to the steep snow below the bergshrund and we booked it for the pass, where we were greeted with violent winds carrying snow crystals and an unintended exfoliating facial. The winds calmed a bit as we dropped back down to the lower glacier and it was much more calm by the time we hit camp.

A bunch of people had come up to camp while we were climbing and spoke of a window that was opening up, so we decided to stay the night and see if the sky would open a bit. Some more hot meals knocked us out well before sunset and we woke to uninspiring conditions after enduring another very windy night in the tent. It was so windy that at least one party had to hike out that night with a broken pole. We later heard that winds were easily 30 knots during our nights up there. A nap was in order before our hike out.

The skies cleared and things warmed up a bunch during our hike out, and we passed no fewer than 30 people headed up for an apparent 2-3 day window. We had to explain to a number of folks why we were headed out. It was a bit frustrating, but we'd had a great time. We learned a lot and we made it through some tough conditions, which helped us put things in perspective for the rest of the trip.

Cody Ice 2013

The final, money pitch of Joy After Pain.  Photo by Dale Apgar.

With three straight years of ice climbing in Montana or Wyoming over New Year's, it was clear that the tradition would continue. Dale and I met up in Billings on the Friday after Christmas, spent a quick night in a hotel there, and woke up early to drive down to Cody. We provisioned ourselves with ~4 days and 3 nights of food, then busted out the Southfork Road towards the ice.

With the groceries chilling out in the car and after a little trailhead lunch, we hiked in for the Schoolhouse Route. We didn't have a ton of time, but also didn't expect to do more than the first few pitches. It was a solid 1.5 hours to the first ice pitch, especially since there hadn't been much snow yet and there was quite a bit of unconsolidated dirt to scamper across in between trying not to take a digger on the iced over stream.

View to a Thrill

We fired the first three pitches, trading leads and having a blast getting back into the swing of things. We descended during sunset, finished the hike with headlamps, and then headed for our bunkhouse at the Double Diamond X Ranch, which turned out to be all of a three-minute drive from our trailhead. Bonus!

The DDX Ranch was a great venue for our adventure. It was just the two of us in the 6-person bunkhouse, so we spread out our stuff, made dinner, drank whiskey, and talked plans for our upcoming trip to Patagonia.

We had ambitious plans to climb View to a Thrill on our second day and did the full approach to get there. Things were pretty warm in the sun and lots of ice was falling from Dressed to Kill. We quickly did the approach pitch and had a long look at the pillar above us. It was well attached, but looked pretty sun-baked. Dale went scouting and decided it didn't look safe, so we bailed, hiked down, and got a pitch in on Slogger before hiking out at dusk. Better safe than sorry.

With our experience on the South-facing side of the canyon the day before, we decided that the North-facing climbs would be a better bet and we were right. The Lower Bench was in to an extent that hadn't been true in 5+ years. We ticked off The One Hitter that next day, then headed back for Joy After Pain after that.

Joy After Pain looked stellar from below and it did not disappoint. A steep 60-meter pitch led to a steeper pillar, then a series of shorter pitches up the drainage to a spot with two falls. We climbed the right side, rappelled, then climbed the left side and kept heading up. We were rewarded. After a last quick pitch, we arrived at the base of a huge curtain of ice. Dale had a crampon front-point failure and I wasn't about to turn the pitch down. It started out steep on a pillar and then got on top of some mushrooms before running to the top in a shallow depression with good stemming feet on either side. It was definitely my proudest lead to date. I was psyched, especially after climbing ~5 pitches already that day and being on our 4th day of climbing.

We celebrated New Year's Eve with the ranch proprietor and his daughter briefly, put a dent in our whiskey, and talked gear for Patagonia until pretty late. With only one set of functioning crampons, we decided to do Ice Fest on our last day, which is a great 60m+ pitch of steep ice above the Flying H Ranch. Dale borrowed my crampons for the lead and then I seconded. It was a perfect cap on the trip. We hiked out, stopped in Cody for brew pub deliciousness, had another quick night in Billings, and then headed home, knowing that we'd see each other again in about 10 days down in El Calafate.

NE Buttress on Chair Peak

Two winters ago, in mid-December, Dale and I headed up to Chair Peak to see about the North Face.  At the time, there was no ice and enough new snow that things were pretty sketchy, so we bailed.

With a major cold snap in Seattle over the past couple weeks, ice was likely.  Kelsey needed to be back to Seattle for a holiday party on Saturday night, so we decided a bigger day on Baker's North Ridge wasn't in the cards.  Instead, the two of us snagged another group of two in Tom and Smitty and we headed up to Chair early on Saturday morning.

It was frigid as we left the car before 8am.  Frigid not being a relative PNW thing.  Frigid being -4F or so.  The approach took us about 2.5 hours and we met up with two groups near the Thumb Tack who had turned around before getting on the route due to a hollow-sounding approach.  Turned out they were trying to go directly to the base and not around, via the ridge.  We took the standard approach and found it to be fine.

Upon reaching the base of the route, we found one party of two starting up.  The leader called down from mid-way through the first pitch that the climbing was "awesome."  We went from thinking things would be unlikely to thinking it would go.  I led up P1 a few minutes behind their second climber.  Things were quite cold in the shade, but the climbing was secure and the few pieces of protection (old pin, old slung cordage, screw, and cam) in the ~65m pitch seemed solid.

I set up a belay on the tree ledge in the sun and brought Kelsey up while by hands thawed out.  From there, we headed straight for the ice step, getting good steps in ice and styrofoam snow.  We finished the pitch with some simul-climbing and had a picket in the middle that felt pretty solid.  I set up a belay off a screw and a picket just below and to the side of the ice step, then brought Kelsey up.  We'd passed the other party during that pitch as they had split it into two bits while we'd simul-climbed with our 70m rope.  Kelsey was cruising this thing like it was nothing.

The ice step was super fun.  I popped in a couple of screws for good measure with screamers on them and then pulled the step to hit the styrofoam snow above.  Things sounded a little slabby and hollow, but the snow stayed together and I got a picket in about 40m through the pitch.  The rope let us get within about 30 feet of the tiny trees on the summit ridge before we had to simul-climb again.  I slung a tree when I could and had Kelsey come up again before we finished up towards the summit and met back up with the other party.  The views were absurd—visibility was off the charts.

We had hoped to rap with Tom and Smitty, but we hadn't seen them since the start of P1, so we assumed they had turned back and we rapped with our new friends who had smartly brought doubles.  After a little down-climbing, a rap, a stuck rope, and another rap, we down-climbed the steep edge of the bowl and finally ended up back at the Thumb Tack.  Just a little over an hour from there and we were back at the car.  Some jogging was done.

Except Tom and Smitty weren't at the car.  After some moments of panic and a discussion with the County Sherrif to determine if SAR would be needed, they appeared about 1.5 hours later.  Turned out they made it up to the second pitch before bailing, which took quite a while.  Whew. That would have been an exceptionally cold night.