Trekking

Hiking, trekking and backpacking in the Italian Dolomites

Climbing All California 14er | Part 3

by dolomitesport.

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Dan Patitucci on the Shepherd Pass Trail

Mt. Tyndall

Clif Bar #4 and it's only 8 a.m.

With our new found enthusiasm for trail running, Mt. Tyndall was the perfect testing ground for a truly big day. While the peak does have a steep northeast face with some real climbing, all the routes were closed for Bighorn Sheep grazing. This left the long, slabby northwest face as the alternative. But first the run in, 12 miles up and over Shepherd Pass – then Mt. Tyndall for 9000 vertical feet of gain.

Our day started at 3 a.m. as we decided we did not want to look at the distances that would separate us from our goal. We chose to run Tyndall carrying little more than numerous Clif Bars, camera and water. Our decision proved wise as the day was long and our knees began a protest while descending the trail.
Tyndall is a triangular peak hidden behind its more famous neighbor, the bulky Mt. Williamson. Our preferred line was the North Rib, a 3rd class scramble on slabs piled with rubble.
Tyndall is a mountain overshadowed by its neighbor, seldom visited by anyone other than 14er baggers and yet has an amazing view in all directions but east. Its remoteness and isolated position give it a sense of being a bit more wild than other Sierra areas we visited. While we initially looked forward to it the least, it is one of the first we remember when we look back on our season.

Mt. Tyndall

Mt. Williamson

Mt. Williamson is at time closed for Bighorn Sheep grazing – skipped.

Split Mountain

The southernmost 14,000 foot peak of the Palisade Crest differs in many ways from its northerly neighbors. Rather than the typical granite of the Sierra, Split is composed of metamorphic rock of far less quality than the surrounding igneous variety.
Named for its appearance, the summit pinnacle is split in two, cleaved by a couloir that rises from bottom to top of the mountain itself.
In this couloir sits one of the Sierra’s longest ice climbs, and our objective.
Earlier in the summer Janine and I had also run into to climb Split via it’s walk up roue from the East Side. But it was the couloir that had caught my attention and I knew I had to try it.
On Thanksgiving Day my best friend Mark Leffler and I found ourselves climbing up the first pitches of the clear water ice draining from the base. A snow ramp led from the ice to a steep bulge in the couloir. A chimney on the left side exited on slabs covered in spindrift. With nightmare quality rock refusing to accept pro of any sort, Mark decided to venture onto the slab in the hopes of finding something better. Something better turned out to be worse than the rotten chimney. After desperately searching for something that did not crumble under the weight of an ice axe, Leffler opted for the down climb and a rapid exit out of the spindrift avalanching couloir.
Luckily, several hundred feet north of the couloir is another gulley though lower angled and filled with snow. This one allowed us access to the north ridge and a quick scramble to the summit.

White Mountain

We found driving the dirt roads to the parking lot more difficult than the “climb” to the summit of White Mountain. With a variety of research work done on the mountain, White has roads crisscrossing its upper slopes. The summit path is actually a jeep trail that ends at the small summit hut.
The terrain is nothing like the Sierra, rather it is a blank and richly earth toned landscape seemingly void of life. Yet there is an entirely different ecosystem in the Whites. Bighorn Sheep and wild horses still roam the high plains, cactus can be found as ground cover and of course there are the famous Bristlecone Pines. Believed to possibly be the world’s oldest living things, the Bristlecones are passed on the drive to the parking area for the summit hike.
White may best be done as the last peak so as to look across to the Sierra and recall all the places visited and all the moments experienced. We sat out the cold afternoon of a late fall day on the summit of White Mountain and recalled all that had happened during our time in the mountains.

Janine Patitucci running out from White Mountain, behind

It turns out it was not about the climbs, or the individual peaks or even the places. Rather, it was about the experience of the project as a whole, and the friends we shared it with.
Our lives changed as a result of getting to the tops of all these peaks, committing to such a project set us on our path which has become a career doing such things. It is not overly difficult or complicated to get to any one summit, but it is something to experience them and let them teach you things previously unknown about yourself. That is the beauty of being a climber who plays in the mountains.

Logistics and Issues

Backcountry permits are required for all of California’s 14ers excluding White Mountain. For all but the Palisade and Whitney regions, permits are easily obtained at the local USFS Ranger Stations in Bishop, Lone Pine and Big Pine.
Whitney and the Palisades are a different story.
Unless you know the exact dates you wish to climb Whitney months in advance, you’ll have to apply for permits the day before your desired entry date. This means being at the Lone Pine Ranger Station at 11am sharp the day before your approach. There, you’ll stand in line as part of a lottery for the unclaimed permits and walk in registrations. You may or may not receive a permit, in which case you will have to try again the next day.
This is the only option unless you receive a permit when permits are issued the previous spring. Hardly convenient for road tripping climbers.
However, with permit in hand, you’ll be legal to stay at your destination for up to 14 days. The Rangers, it seems, prefer to protect the trailhead more than the backcountry camping areas.
Luckily, we won the lottery our first day, and scratching our heads at the non-sense of the system, we headed for the portal with our permission slips to enter public lands.

Mountain Guides

Sierra Mountain Center : Longtime California and Sierra climber and UIAGM Guide SP Parker manages one of the Sierra’s most experienced guiding services. Running into SP in the Sierra became such a common occurrence that summer that we were forced to become great, and now “old”, friends.

Mountain guides are an excellent option for those new to the area or for those less experienced climbing in serious mountain terrain.

Rating: 5.0/5 (2 votes cast)

Climbing All California 14er | Part 2

Oct 22nd, 2009

by dolomitesport.

3 comments

Jay Bettencourt on Mt. Russell's Startrekkin' 5.10a

Trail running into Mt. Langley

Climbing California 14ers

With seven 14ers down and seven to go, we had options; rock climbing in the Whitney group or try one of the long car to car endeavors. We decided to do the Sierra’s southernmost 14er, Mt. Langley, deal with the huge distance to and from, and then go to Whitney.
And for this we opted to put our fitness to the test and try this new “mountain running” idea. Going lighter yet, with just a hydration pack and running clothes, we left the car in the dark, huffed and puffed to the summit, and were back enjoying beers kept frosty in a creek by early afternoon.
The athlete in me took note of this style of moving in the mountains. Lots of ground covered, little pack weight, committed to finishing, goal oriented – I like it.

Mt. Langley

The furthest south 14er in the state, Mt. Langley seems more closely related to the desert than the alpine peaks further north. Approached from the south, the peak is little more than a very long walk. With the addition of the 3rd class East South-East Ridge, the day does have some variety and a loop that can be done from the ridge’s starting point.
Mt. Langley was our favorite run of the season. Beginning at over 9,000 feet, the overall elevation gain is fairly minor and all comes at the base of the actual peak, 10 miles from the car. The Cottonwood Lakes Trail is a surprisingly lush approach to the distant dry peaks.
The descent is fast and fun screeing down towards Old Army Pass and Cottonwood Lakes where we napped on a boulder along the lakeshore before the knee friendly trail back to the car.

The Whitney Region

For me, the lower 48‘s tallest peak had always held a sort of ugly connotation. I imagined a peak lacking all of what I love about climbing in the mountains; freedom, a pristine environment and a difficult to obtain summit. In order to enjoy the Whitney region during the summer months it is best to turn off any idea of what the High Sierra should be like. The Mt. Whitney experience is like no other.
The first step is in acquiring the necessary permits (see Logistics, part 3). Next comes the approach which shares the same trail as the hiking route for the first section. Thankfully, climbers veer off from the masses with their mandatory neon permits hanging like permission slips on field tripping grammar school kids. Rather than following the highway-like trail along the South Fork of Lone Pine Creek, climbers follow the more primitive North Fork drainage to the cirque beneath the Whitney massif. There, at Iceberg Lake, climbers establish base camp from which to climb any of a number of the area’s offerings.

The Mt. Whitney Group

Janine Patitucci on Whitney's East Buttress

Our own experience at Iceberg was initially one of shock. Unlike the usual quiet camps in the mountains, this was bustling with climbers and guided groups.
However, as climbers will be climbers, we soon found some old friends and were quick to make new ones. Unlike the hordes on the other side of the crest who were shuffling along on their way to an “I Climbed Mt. Whitney” shirt, the climbers in camp were the usual mix of dirt bags and misfits with whom we felt right at home.

Mt. Whitney

Two climbing routes on Whitney see the vast majority of all the traffic; The East Face and the East Buttress. 5.4 and 5.8 respectively, it is hard to say which is better. The East face is more unique while the East Buttress offers better climbing. We did both several times during our stay at Iceberg and enjoyed them more each time.

Our first trip up Whitney was via the East Buttress and started late in the day. Numerous pitches of quality climbing leads to some blocky scrambling before the summit. The closer we got to the top, the more our silence was giving way to muffled voices.
Once on the summit, we were greeted with applause from the masses as it seemed to them we had come from the abyss. We counted over 50 people, 23 on cell phones, the rest on two way radios to friends still on trail or camp.
For our following summit visits, we found it best to put all climbing gear away below the summit so as to pull onto the top and blend in.

Though somewhat anticlimactic to a great day of climbing, the summit of Mt. Whitney is special. We outlasted the crowd and discovered that in almost every case, they must leave by late afternoon so as to make it to the car at a reasonable hour. Suddenly we were alone. What was like a city park scene an hour before had magically transformed back to an alpine Sierra summit. In our solitude, we enjoyed the day’s final light and relished the fact that we are climbers and able to move about in the mountains free of schedule.
With headlamps at the ready, we descended the well worn Mountaineers Route back to camp and the greetings of friends.

Tommy Caldwell and Beth Rodden on the Tower Traverse, 5.4 East Face of Mt. Whitney

Dan Patitucci on the Fresh Air Traverse, 5.4. East Face of Mt. Whitney

Descending Whitney's Mountaineer's Route

Iceberg Lake Camp beneath Mt. Whitney, day

Iceberg Lake Camp beneath Mt. Whitney, night

Each morning's view from Iceberg Lake

Mt. Russell. Many, many lines

Mt. Russell

From Basecamp, one can only see the top third of Mt. Russell’s south face rising up from behind a ridge. There is nothing quite like it anywhere in the area, perfectly parallel splitters all terminate on a ledge about 400 feet below the summit. The same splitters that nearly reach the ground hundreds of feet below.
Mt. Russell is the choice climbers peak of all the 14ers. Numerous quality routes litter the south and west walls, all of superb quality. The two standout features on Russell are the Fishhook Arete and the Mithral Dihedral, both 5.9, both 5 star.
For us, Mt. Russell was our first real climbing of the 14er project, it would also be the first day where we rappelled for our lives to escape a thunderstorm.

Four pitches into the Mithral Dihedral it began. Skipping the whole poor weather break in period, our puffy white clouds went straight to tempest. Within minutes it was snowing hard enough to obscure our visio and rendered it impossible to look up for all the snow tumbling down the face. With Janine and I’s belay rigged for shooting photos, and our friends still climbing up to us, we were forced to spend some time dealing with getting out of the nightmare we found oursleves in. To compound our problems, lightning and thunder became as one and the air literally began to sizzle and smell a bit odd. I do however recall thinking, “If we survive this, we’ll have some good pics”.

Finally, Mark Leffler pulled into our anchor after a heroic battle throwing handjams into a soaking wet corner. Survival instincts went into effect, the first of several rappel anchors was built, and we began our retreat. After some exciting rappels we were back on the ground, soaked and with new respect for puffy white clouds.

Mark Leffler gunning it for the anchors in snowfall and lightening

Mark Leffler in the Mithral Dihedral

A genuine look of concern on Dan Patitucci's face

Dave Miller on Mt. Russell's Startrekkin' 5.10a

Jeff Angermann on the Mithral Dihedral 5.9

The following day we returned to retrieve our gear and complete the Mithral Dihedral. In sunny, warm conditions we once again started up the golden corner, slotting perfect hand jams for 400 feet before pulling out of the vertical corner on rails and huge incut edges.
From the end of the corner, about 400 feet of pleasant 4th class climbing separates you from the summit and time to make mental notes of all the other Russell routes you plan to return for.

Mt. Muir

From Iceberg Lake, Mt Muir is obscured from sight behind the massive towers of the Whitney Crest. Sitting as a bump on the crest a mile south of Whitney’s summit, Muir meets the Sierra’s definition of an independent peak and is therefore considered a 14er. Oddly, the areas most spectacular peak, the Keeler Needle, is not considered an independent peak. While its summit elevation is 14,000 feet, its position is not far enough away from the summit of neighboring Mt. Whitney to give it 14er status – whatever. Muir however, does. Sad that the iconic character of the Sierra Nevada has such an unremarkable peak named after him.
From Iceberg lake we crossed the Pinnacle Ridge separating the Whitney cirque from the Muir cirque. There, we gained the East Ridge of Mt. Muir and followed its contrived and confusing line of 4th class to the top. From the summit we could peer 100 feet beneath us to the traffic pattern on the Whitney Trail. Muir receives little attention even though the summit is literally a few minutes from the trail. Viewed from the trail on the west side it is barely noticed, and as a result the summit goers pass by without regard.

With the Palisades and Whitney Group now complete – so too was our technical rock climbing. Mt. Tyndall’s climbing routes were closed for Bighorn Sheep grazing as was all of Mt. Williamson. Split Mountain holds an ice climb that would be a route for the late fall, and of course we were saving White Mountain for last so as to look out upon the Sierra with all new memories.

Part 3 will wrap things up with the balance of peaks as well as some Logistical Info and Mountain Guide tips

Rating: 5.0/5 (1 vote cast)

Dolomite Alta Via 1 Mountain Hut Impressions

Oct 21st, 2009

by dolomitesport.

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A trend is developing. Each time we ask someone from the USA to contribute to DolomiteSport a consistent topic seems to emerge; the mountain huts, their decadence and convenience.

This fall we helped Sue Johnston and Chris Scott make plans for hiking the Alta Via 1. When it was finished they kindly put together a story of their primary impression. The topic; the mountain hut.

Chris and Sue come from outside Ventura, California. Sue is a two time time winner of Colorado’s Hardrock Ultra as well as numerous other 100 miles races. She also holds the speed record for the John Muir Trail. More info about Sue can be read at Salomon Running or her blog’s Dolomite entry, RunSueRun.

Thanks to Sue Johnston and Chris Scott for the text below.

Rifugio = Mountain Hut. “Mountain Hut” usually conjures up a one room, rough hewn, log cabin hidden deep in the wilderness below a dense canopy, offering brief respite to the wandering hiker in search of flat and dry ground, a roof over one’s head, perhaps escape from persistent mosquitoes, yet maybe a mouse or two for company. After you’ve heated your dinner and stretched your sleeping bag over the floor, and night has stolen daylight, only your headlamp reminds you of dimension within the hut’s walls.

The reality of rifugi (plural of “hut”) in the Dolomites is quite the opposite. Think: “this is the best aid station I’ve ever visited!” and then repeat that experience about every 10K, or in some cases, within spitting distance of the next. Now envision the Dolomite mountain hut offering commanding views in almost every direction. Welcome to Italy!

Rifugi dot the trail at seemingly designed intervals. The proximity of one rifugio to the next encourages you to pack light – you’ll need only your choice of clothing for the length of your trek. But what about food? Since the staff at each rifugio spends its entire season there, they’ll be well fed. If they’re well fed, you’ll be well fed, too. This equates to a full menu of delightful treats.

Complementing the menu is beer on tap and a well-stocked bar, further enhanced by local grappas. For lack of clear translation, grappa is Italian for moonshine, only here in various flavors and colors. As our new Italian friend suggested, “take a hit, roll the grappa across your teeth with your tongue, then breathe in quickly through bared teeth. You’ll get snockered quicker!” It almost worked.

Most rifugi also offer hotel-equivalent accommodations, as well; the loftier and more remote rifugi perhaps bunk beds. On our five day hike of Alta Via 1, we survived one bunk bed group snorefest, the other nights in private rooms listening to just our own snoring. Truthfully, even the snorefest wasn’t problematic – we were tired enough from each day’s hike that we could have slept through the finale of the 1812 Overture. Full stomachs from dinner created a lethargy that made sleep easy; we justified the bulging stomachs as investment for the next day’s hike.

Up early for breakfast. Salami and cheese panini for later on the trail. Visit another rifugio down trail for more coffee. Stop every 100 meters to take in another spectacular, breathtaking vista. Enjoy an afternoon break for more coffee and snacks. Then press on to make it to the day’s end rifugio in time for a warm shower, happy hour, dinner, and another night’s sleep between sheets.

Lather, rinse, repeat… for as many days as you can afford and are willing to enjoy. The tease is to linger at any one rifugio, for each designs to keep you in the clutches of endless hospitality. Of course, avoid the tease, as more of the same awaits you at the next rifugio. When (not if) you decide to run/hike the Alta Via 1, anticipate the rifugi pampering – you’ll re-define your standards for ultras’ aid station fare!! Hope you enjoyed reading our impressions of the Alta Via 1.

Rating: 5.0/5 (2 votes cast)

Climbing California 14,000 Foot Peaks

Oct 20th, 2009

by dolomitesport.

1 comment

I found this story archived in our computer and have decided to publish it (in three parts) to DolomiteSport along with the photos. I hope it serves as inspiration to reader’s for 2010 summer plans.

Sierra Nevada lenticular sunset

It was great fun to read this text and see how both our outlook and lives have changed. After the summer in which we finished the project, we decided to finally settle in California’s Bishop, where we lived for six years, exploring the Sierra and continuing to build our photography careers.

Climbing California 14,000 Foot Peaks

Middle Palisade naptime view

In 2001 we found ourselves homeless. We had a VW Westfalia that, on occasion started, a lot of time, and tons of motivation to build our photography business. We were also climbers with a love for California’s Sierra Nevada.
Our summer home was wherever our van broke down, and so for the summer of 2001, we, or shall I say it, “decided” to spend some time in the Eastern Sierra. I had long wanted to climb all of California’s 14,000 foot peaks and realized the time was right.
To see if we could get some work out of the idea we queried Rock & Ice Magazine. The response, “Do it and we’ll publish it”.
And so it started.

The creators that be were feeling extraordinarily generous the day the ingredients were gathered for California’s Sierra Nevada; reliable, stable weather, stunning scenery and flawless golden granite, all of which are easily accessible from the high desert of the range’s eastern side. For climbers and backpackers the range is unequalled for summer weather.

Mt. Shasta's Casaval Ridge

For whatever reason, we humans enjoy tackling goals that involve numbers, specifically quantities of like quantities. In California, a common project, whether it be in one season or a lifetime, is to climb all the 14,000 foot peaks.
The Sierra Nevada range has 13 individual peaks over 14,000 feet (14ers) while two others exist on their own; White Mountain in the nearby Inyo Range and the northernmost and lone volcano, Mt. Shasta. Several of the peaks would not receive the traffic that they do if they did not have the magic elevation, yet as a group, and a goal, the overall combination is a wonderful collection of experiences.

Climbing Casaval Ridge

At first glance, I was not overly enthusiastic with all the route info. As a climber I wanted 5th class. While many do have technical routes, many others have little more than trails to the top. It looked like we would be doing some hiking, and at this I shuddered. Now, years later, I look back and understand it was the beginning of our careers as trail runners – what has turned out to be one of our favorite sports.

Our project began in the spring on the snowy slopes of Mt. Shasta. One of the Cascade’s volcanos, Shasta sits well isolated from California’s other 14,000 foot peaks, or any other major summit, near the Oregon border. Completely dominating the surrounding landscape, it is considered sacred by many, not the least of which are skiers and climbers who come in herds to take advantage of its bounty of offerings, and especially the rich, spring corn harvest.

To be on the mountain alone is truly a treat, and we were lucky enough to have it to ourselves. A late storm blasted the mountain with strong, freezing winds but a good forecast had us thinking ahead. On skis, we headed up while it was still raging hoping the forecast would turn out correct, and it was. The summit morning was crystal clear and freezing allowing our route, the popular Casaval Ridge, to be in perfect shape.

Mt. Shasta's summit plateau

Climbing Shasta involves breathing hard while trudging along. Technical difficulty is minimal, just a basic understanding of traveling on snow and ice, along with well prepared lungs and good weather, and you should get to the top.
The route passes volcanic towers before gaining a long ramp to the summit plateau. Our crampons barely scratched the surface of the windswept blue ice as we crossed the plateau to the summit pinnacle. There, inhaling the noxious sulfur fumes that serve as reminders to what you are on top of, the reality of the mountain’s sizes becomes apparent. Shasta sits alone and on a clear day one has a 360 degree view without obstruction.
Once descending, we hurried to where we had left our skis and were soon flying down the mountain. Shasta’s slopes stretch for miles and from 12,000 feet we were on a gravity induced path to our car who’s door we arrived at with ski’s still attached.

The Palisade Crest from basecamp

The Palisade

Next up, but not until early August, were the Palisades. Arguably the Sierra’s best true Alpine playground, we found the climbing much to our liking. Steep couloirs, quality ridge climbing and sound rock had us loving our days. We were in no hurry to leave the otherworld nature of the area, and the basecamp full of characters.

Our arrival to the Palisade Basin left us awestruck to the fact that something so alpine exists in the Sierra Nevada, much less in California. Sitting next to the Palisade Glacier (little more than a large snowfield yet the largest glacier in the Sierra) is basecamp for most of the climbing. From camp is an unobscured view of the crest and all its lines.
The Palisade’s six 14,000 foot summits are not so much a series of peaks as they are a series of bumps on the mile long crest. Traversing the crest involves putting all your skills as a rock climber and route finder to the test.

North Palisade & Starlight Peak

Our first day had the ridgeline’s high point, North Palisade, as the focus. In addition, we planned a traverse further north so as to include Starlight Peak. The classic route on North Pal is to climb the class 3 ice U Notch to the crest where easy 5th class rock leads to the summit. The U Notch, like its steeper neighbor the V, varies in steepness from season to season. The crux is typically found at the bottom where the bergschrund opens as a massive chasm blocking access to the couloir itself. Crossing the bergschrund involves climbing down, across and then out. More like a lesson in ice spelunking than climbing, it is nevertheless fascinating to explore the glacier from inside. Once in the couloir, several hundred feet of low angle ice await.

The Palisade glacier really is a glacier, crevasses and all

On top of the couloir is more rock leading to the summit. The difficulty is in route finding as the crest is littered with towers and blocks at every angle making passage tricky. The climbing is slow but the views keep you inspired, it is like being on a summit the whole time.
Once on top of North Palisade, we continued along the crest towards the next 14er, Starlight Peak. A large notch separates the two and serves as the day’s crux.
The summit of Starlight itself is a spire stuck in the crest and for most, summiting involves lassoing the tip and climbing the rope Tarzan style to the top.

Matt Samet nearing the North Palisade summit. Not required, nor recommended.

Mt. Sill

We correctly regarded Mt. Sill as a rest day after the previous day’s effort. Our goal was to spend 4 days in the Palisade basecamp from which we could summit five 14ers. The approach from the car to the Palisade Basecamp is a relatively easy one so we opted for heavier packs loaded with good food. Our goal was simply to climb all the 14ers, not to climb them quickly as is possible by doing a traverse of the whole crest in one push, something I would do car to car years later, discovering what the word exhaustion means.
For this trip, food and friends to share it with was of the utmost importance.

Climbers headed to the crest at sunrise

We awoke late the second morning and had a leisurely breakfast and good Peet’s coffee before heading up to the base of the ridge.
Mt. Sill’s Swiss Arete was a perfect match for the amount of effort we wanted to put forth. The line is primarily 3rd and 4th class with a short, technical bit of 5.6 climbing. The Swiss Arete serves as a divider between the North Palisade Crest and the Southern sector, and it is one of the few spots where both areas can be viewed.
I found the climbing so enjoyable that as I pulled over the lip of a block and reached up for the next, I was surprised to discover that I was on the summit. With its centralized position, Mt. Sill may have the best view in the Sierra. Complete with smooth, tilted blocks, it is a summit to lounge on and take in the immensity and wildness of the Sierra Nevada.

David Neale in the V Notch. Summer ice climbing in California.

Polemonium

Barely noticeable as an independent peak, Polemonium has possibly the best route of the Palisade’s 14ers. The V Notch is the classic Sierra couloir. Narrower and steeper than its easier neighbor, the U, the V climbs like a route while the U is more of an approach.
In 2001, the first 80 feet were unusually steep and combined the August weather, allowed for dreamy, styrofoam conditions.

JIm Karn on Thunderbolt Peak

Ice screws are recommended protection as the gulley’s side walls, while tempting with rock pro, are loose and not worth the effort. As the morning warmed, we dodged some rockfall by staying to the sides before arriving in full sun near the top. With only one hundred feet remaining, I found my lead come up short before reaching safer ground. Stuck in the middle of the icy expanse, I placed three screws and began belaying my friends. By the time they arrived I had every screw available in as an anchor, my original three screws poking out of the slushy mess an inch more than when I first arrived.
Once on top we discovered we were not through with Polemonium. A steep notch separates the summit from the ridge with wildly improbable 4th class climbing out of it to the top. A rope is strongly recommended.

Thunderbolt

Our day on Thunderbolt nearly had it living up to its name. Warm, clear summer days and t-shirt climbing gave way to the first thunderheads of our stay. A dash up the Underhill Couloir put us at the base of the short ridge to the summit and a view to the threatening clouds arriving from the west. 4th class led to the summit block where a boulder resides as the fifth 14er of our Palisade visit. A tricky and unprotected 5.9 boulder problem guards the top. Frantically, we tagged the summit and dashed down ahead of the incoming tempest.
Back in basecamp we celebrated the completion of round two, five 14ers in four days. Six of the 14 down, eight to go.

At the beach, Sierra style

After finishing five of the six Palisade 14ers, we began our less than enthusiastic march to Middle Palisade and our first 3rd class route. Our day began like all the others, hike to the base, gain the buttress, climb rock to summit. Yet today was different in that we climbed side by side with no rope and no rack, we were liberated. Our dreaded 3rd class route became one of our favorites. It had everything all the others had, exposure, rapid elevation gain and good rock, it just had no technical climbing. The reason why we love climbing in the mountains became even clearer, we simply love being there.

Once back in town, we revisited the hit list with new found enthusiasm. We realized that climbing all the 14ers wasn’t necessarily about the climbing, but rather the project as a whole, each peak offers its own character, its own set of challenges and maybe most importantly, its own education. And this was the best sort of schooling.

_______________________________________

Part 2 will include a nearly tragic storm on Mt. Russell plus route by route info for each peak as well as Mountain Guide and logistical information for getting permits.

To be continued…

Mark Leffler gunning it for the anchors in snowfall and lightening

Rating: 5.0/5 (3 votes cast)

Mountain Hut Culture

Sep 24th, 2009

by dolomitesport.

14 comments

Switzerland's Konkordia Hut perched above Europe's largest glacier.

Mountain Huts and the European Mountain Culture

Undoubtedly, one of the greatest pleasures of living in the European mountains is the huts. Anyone that follows this site, or our Twitter feed, has seen a trend; the use of huts and all the amazing experiences that they allow.

I am still not so sure Americans understand the concept. From people seeking info on the Dolomites, I am continually asked via email, “Do we need to bring sleeping bags, tents, food?”

The answer is an emphatic, “NO!”

The Rothorn Hut, Zermatt, Switzerland

The European huts are basically hotels in the mountains. Depending on just where they are located, they only vary from comfortable to extremely comfortable. In the higher alpine zones of Switzerland and France they are more basic, and food and water a bit more pricey thanks to having to be delivered via helicopter. But still, they are staffed to provide a four course dinner, beer & wine, breakfast and a bed complete with blankets. You need not carry anything unless you prefer your own silk sleeping sack. In other words, your backpack will be tiny and very light. You can purchase day food at the huts as well, typically chocolates, cookies, and occasionally a sandwich. You are very much in the “backcountry” but you are staying in staffed huts.

In the lower elevation mountains, like the Dolomites, most huts are literally hotels complete with power, espresso machines, full bars, restaurants, private rooms with baths, and so on. You should do a little research to see what the huts offer on your itinerary as not all are so complete, but most are. The private rooms being the one missing element of some huts.

Perhaps a bit too much grappa?

More than being refuges for mountain excursions (backcountry skiing, hiking, climbing, etc…), they are a social element of the European mountain culture. It is entirely normal to hear of a party at a hut, or friends simply planning an overnight so as to enjoy a massive meal, or a dance party, or a fullmoon outing, or just a dinner out that requires an approach.

In the Alta Badia there is a hut that has Wednesday night dance parties all winter. A one hour ski tour gets you there, then change the clothes, eat a pizza and get on the dance floor in your F1′s. Ski out at 3 a.m. Fun. Or, in the summer, mountain bike all day in the Dolomites, watch the sun set from a hut deck while drinking a wheat beer, enjoy five courses of Italian goodness, then descend on out under headlamps on trails. For the winter version, replace mountain bike with skis.

Huts may not be for everybody, and of course they can be avoided altogether. Occasionally I do miss sleeping beneath the stars, but that option is always available.

Being an American I am still in awe of this system, it simply works, it brings people together, and it bonds the mountain culture that runs deep in the society. Perhaps the huts are what allow for such a rich culture of mountain people in Europe, such a vast base of people who visit the mountains. The huts make it easy to go to the mountains, and they allow for an entirely unique experience of socializing.

Would the mountain huts work in the US?

Or first, we Americans must ask ourselves if the huts would ever be allowed to exist in the US? Do you want huts in the mountains of America? Sound off with our Comments. Thanks.

Most stunning upon arrival, the Vignette Hut on the Haute Route. Switzerland

Most impressive, Austria's Jamtal Hut in the Silvretta Group

Most precarious. The Mittelegi Hut high on the Eiger, the North Wall to the right

Pick a hut, any hut...

Best deck, the Fanes Hut, Dolomites

Switzerland's Hollandia Hut in the Berner Oberland

The Trient Hut, Switzerland. The Haute Route

The Locatelli Hut, Dolomites

The Courvecle Hut, Chamonix

Backcountry food

Hut dorm room

The Valsorey Hut, olfactory overload, Haute Route.

The Valsorey Hut, Haute Route

The Chanrion Hut, Haute Route, Switzerland

The gear room, Cosmique Hut, Chamonix

Party time after the Biancograt. Marco e Rosa Hut, Switzerland

The Konkordia Hut winter room

Rating: 5.0/5 (4 votes cast)

GoreTex Review

Sep 1st, 2009

by dolomitesport.

3 comments

Does GoreTex really work?

I’ll admit to some nerdy tendencies and let it be known that I keep a pretty detailed training and “fun log”. It keeps me informed about my training while providing some motivation to fill in each day’s square with what I did, training time, intensity, etc… Things have seemed pretty busy this year in terms of being out, so I looked. Sure enough, of our 243 days this year, I have been in the mountains for 220 of them. This is consistent with the last 20 years of my life. LOTS of time in the mountains.

This seems a good foundation for figuring out what gear really work and what does not. Our Gear Reviews have been tremendously popular and the traffic I see on these posts inspires me to keep the Gear Review momentum going. So, in the coming entries I will be randomly choosing items we use that function perfectly, or little things I have discovered that make life working/playing in the mountains run smoothly. Gear is obviously really important for my work and comfort so careful thought needs to go into decisions about what to use.

Pouring rain and high exertion. Gore-Tex works.

1st up, GoreTex.

If you would have asked me, “What sort of rain jacket do you use?” three years ago, I would have mentioned whatever soft shell, water resistant, alpine jacket I was using at the time. I am from California, rain was something I either didn’t experience much of or I quickly passed through on my way to higher elevations to where it was snowing. “Crunchy” shells were not something I needed, I was spoiled.

But now, living in Europe, I get to experience rain. And after having just spent two weeks in Iceland I came to realize Gore-Tex works and it works quite well. We were actually doing a photo shoot for Gore and were provided with numerous pairs of boots and jackets from all the different companies they partner with; from Mammut to Adidas to Scott to La Sportiva.

When it rains in Iceland it is often a fine spray which is far more soaking than a downpour. We were in it each day, wrapped in GoreTex from head to toe, hiking steep peaks and exerting energy within the material. Bone dry is a safe assessment of what we found inside our shells. In fact it worked so well that being in the rain was a non-issue, it was just what we did. Ironically, this was the point of the photos and it turned out to be true.

What one wears underneath the GoreTex membrane is very important – don’t wear too much and do wear the right materials. For us, we all wore thin, synthetic base layers with a mid-weight fleece of our choice on top. We stayed warm and dry. For socks, wool seems superior and the consensus is that Smartwool makes the best. It is amazing that Smartwool socks do not smell.

Back home now in the Dolomites, I have incorporated a thin Gore Bike Wear jacket into my wardrobe, it goes on every outing, both running and mountain biking. With zip off sleeves to turn it into a vest, it is undoubtedly one of the best pieces I own.

Another small item I have found to be fantastic is the Gore windstopper headband. I have long been a fan of headbands as they seem to regulate the body temp best. But the windstop material’s overlooked feature is the quiet that it provides. It dampens the sound of the aggravating wind, put it on and enjoy quiet much like noise dampening headphones on an airplane. Also available in beanie hats - must haves in my opinion.

Finally, footwear. For me, GoreTex on my feet is a mixed blessing. I have hot feet, really hot. So, unless it is cold out, my feet don’t want to be wrapped in any additional membrane. In the cold and wet of Iceland, GoreTex boots worked absolutely perfectly and we trudged through mud, ankle deep creeks and had water pouring off our legs onto the tops of the boots. “Bone dry” is the right description for inside the boot.

Gaiters and Gore-Tex running shoes - good combo

I have also done a running tour in Iceland where we ran through the same conditions. I used GoreTex shoes for this as well and found that they worked fine. But being low top, if it is seriously wet, water still gets in and they end up being soaked. To me, running shoes are the exception, if it is pouring rain and you are charging through puddles, you’ll get soaked regardless. They are like GoreTex shorts – why? If you need running shoes to stay dry in mildly wet weather and mud, then GoreTex is going to do the job. But for boots in the wet – definitely go GoreTex.

As photographers we are lucky to be given a lot of clothing to shoot photos of. Gore gave us a lot of their running and cycling stuff under the brand name Gore but not made with GoreTex. Gore Bike Wear and Gore Running Wear are a bit confusing – they are made with GoreTex, right? WRONG. It is absolutely beautifully designed performance clothing. I would consider it to be some of the best pure sport clothing I have used. The name is a bit confusing, we associate Gore with GoreTex, but in the case of the clothing lines it is not all made with the GoreTex material itself.

To summarize… I have had to learn how to work in the rain without it affecting me. The fact that I must always carry camera gear means I have a heavy pack, which forces me to figure out what gear is lightest yet still works. Gore has proven to be a great product to rely on so I can work, train and enjoy being in the mountains no matter what the weather is doing.

Gore is a company I am impressed with, not only for what they make, but for how happy their employees are and for their corporate philosophies. Malcom Gladwell’s best seller, “The Tipping Point” revealed why they make for an interesting company. PatitucciPhoto and DolomiteSport are in no way working with Gore, we simply appreciate quality – when we find it, we’ll promote it and review it.

Rating: 5.0/5 (1 vote cast)

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Climbing All California 14er | Part 3

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Split Mountain

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Climbing All California 14er | Part 2

Climbing California 14ers

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The Whitney Region

Mt. Whitney

Mt. Russell

Mt. Muir

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Climbing California 14,000 Foot Peaks

Climbing California 14,000 Foot Peaks

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North Palisade & Starlight Peak

Mt. Sill

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Thunderbolt

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Mountain Huts and the European Mountain Culture

Would the mountain huts work in the US?

GoreTex Review

Does GoreTex really work?

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