Notch
Couloir
June 16, 2001
I have failed to climb the Notch Couloir on Longs Peak
three times--more than I've failed to climb any other
route anywhere. My first failed attempt was in December
of 1995 with Bill Wright. We hiked in to Chasm Lake, set
up camp, climbed Mount Lady Washington under blue skies,
and awoke the next morning to howling wind and terrible
visibility. We climbed up the snow slope to the Loft in
the freezing cold and called it a day.
My second failed attempt came in May of 1996, when I
approached the climb with Jeff and Don, a couple of guys
who worked for Lowe Alpine. Jeff was feeling the
altitude and didn't end up climbing anything; Don was
intimidated by the view of the couloir from the approach
and requested a change of plan. We climbed the
enjoyable Flying Dutchman couloir instead and summited
Mount Meeker.
My
most recent failure to climb the Notch Couloir was in
June of 1998, with Tim "The Client" Ulrich. We
approached up Lambs Slide but decided not to climb the
route because there was a great deal of ice falling down
the East Face. Instead we continued up Lambs Slide to
the Loft and got chased down by weather. Would the
fourth time be a charm? It was, and this turned out to
be one of the best days I've ever had on Longs.
John "Homie" Prater was undaunted by my history of
failures. He and I met at 3:00 a.m. in north Boulder,
drove to the trailhead, and were hiking a couple of
minutes before 4:00 a.m. The sign-in box indicated that
one other party had left at 3:30 heading for the Notch,
so early on we expected company. We kept a moderate
pace up the trail to Chasm Lake. I was wearing my
approach shoes and carrying my heavy leather
mountaineering boots. I hate hiking in boots, and I
thought I might save some energy by wearing light
shoes. The weather was perfectly clear. Before sunrise
there was a beautiful crescent moon in the eastern sky
with a bright planet--maybe Venus?--nearby. When the
sun rose, it was a breathtaking display.
At Chasm Cutoff, Homie noticed a lone climber coming up
the trail a half mile behind us and moving quickly. We
arrived at Chasm Lake to find it was mostly frozen, and
there was still enough snow that at Homie's suggestion
we walked around the left side and headed immediately up
towards Lambs Slide, saving us significant hiking time.
We could see a pair of climbers moving up Lambs Slide
ahead of us. As we sat down above Chasm Lake to eat
(and for me to change into my boots), the lone climber
who was behind us hiked up to say hello. This guy had
gained significant time on us and was obviously very
fit. We chatted about climbing plans. He was hoping to
climb one of the difficult routes on the Diagonal Wall
below the Diamond, or the Red Wall (5.10) on Chasm View
Wall. He mentioned that his partner (who was several
minutes behind) had been on the Diamond the week before,
climbing Ariana (5.12), and that the weather had been
perfect. Neither of us asked, but we both wondered who
his partner was. Not many people climb 5.12 at 13,000
feet. These guys were apparently quite a team. We
wished each other mutual good luck and he headed off
toward the base of the East Face.
For
those unfamiliar with this climb, the Notch Couloir
route goes like this: From the slopes above Chasm Lake,
you climb up Lambs Slide, a 35-40 degree snow/ice slope,
for about 800 vertical feet to a ledge system called
Broadway, which cuts across the East Face of Longs.
Then traverse Broadway for about 700-800 feet to the
base of the Notch Couloir. Broadway varies in width
from 20 feet to less than one foot, and by the time you
reach the couloir the cliff below Broadway is about 700
feet high. This means if you slide down the Notch
Couloir without being anchored to anything, you fly out
into space and die. Now you climb the Notch Couloir
itself, which reaches a maximum angle of about 50
degrees, for another 800 vertical feet to the Notch,
which is the huge notch that you see in the ridge near
the top of Longs when viewing the mountain from the east
or west. (For those familiar with the Keyhole Route,
the Notch is much larger and much higher than the
Keyhole, and on the south side of the peak.) From the
Notch you can scramble down to the west side and finish
on the Homestretch of the Keyhole Route, or climb a
5th-class rock pitch on the east side of the peak and
scramble to the summit from the south.
Lambs Slide was in very good condition, firm and
pleasant, with good steps kicked in all the way up to
Broadway. We took less than 30 minutes to ascend from
the base of the Slide to Broadway, where we met the
climbers who had signed in ahead of us. They offered to
let us go by, but they were already roped up and ready
to start traversing Broadway, so we declined. Broadway
was very snowy, and we decided to rope up right away.
We simul-climbed to the base of the Notch Couloir in a
single pitch, with Homie leading, and I arrived just as
the second climber in the team ahead of us was beginning
to climb.
Homie
gave me the rack and I started up the intimidating
couloir. From the beginning the Notch Couloir looks a
bit improbable. It is fantastically narrow in some
sections--not more than 3 or 4 feet wide through one
memorable chute--and there are three cruxes that involve
a few moves each on rock. But the climb protects very
well, and we moved efficiently. The party ahead of us
bombarded us with debris, but nearly all of it was soft
snow. I chatted from time to time with the second
climber in the leading group, who said he had climbed
the couloir at least five times before. I told him we
appreciated the guide service.
Conditions were good, but a little softer than I would
have liked. I found very few places where my picks
would hold, and ended up using the shafts of my axes a
fair amount. The snow was firm enough to hold feet very
well, however, and through most of the couloir I was
able to kick steps as deep as I liked. I topped out in
the Notch after about an hour and fifteen minutes of
climbing, just as I ran out of slings. Homie posed for
a picture 50 feet below the top of the couloir and then
joined me in the Notch.
The
Notch itself is at about 13,900 feet, so we still had
roughly 350 vertical feet to the summit. We hoped to
climb the "Stepladder," a direct rock finish, which
Gerry Roach rates 5.0-5.2 and Rossiter calls 5.4. I had
asked the party ahead of us about it, but neither of
them had ever been able to find this finish. They had
headed down to the west, intending to summit up the
Homestretch. The wind was blowing hard on the west side
of the peak, but we had perfect calm on the east side.
It was only a little after 10:00, the sun was shining,
there were almost no clouds, and the rock was warm.
Besides, I had hauled my approach shoes all the way up
that couloir, and I was anxious to climb some rock. I
suggested to Homie that he would probably want me to
lead, since he would have to climb in his heavy leather
boots, but he would not hear of it. I had gotten to
lead the whole couloir, so it was only fair that Homie
would get to lead the rock.
From the Notch, Homie worked up and left (west) for
30-40 feet, then cut up and right on a sloping ledge.
He rounded the corner to the east face, traversed across
a Flatiron-esque slab, and downclimbed a bit to a
spacious belay area below a slabby face split by a
squeeze chimney. I followed and joined him at the
belay, and he launched up the pitch. As I belayed him I
could close my eyes and picture myself in Eldorado
Canyon. It was just so warm! At nearly 14,000 feet,
this was the highest-altitude technical rock climbing I
had ever done, and the fact that the weather was so nice
made it feel like cheating!
Homie
did a great job leading this pitch. Getting into the
chimney was out of the question since we were both
wearing packs, but the climbing on the face to the right
of the chimney was sunny and mostly dry, and the holds
were adequate. The protection was very good, and Homie
took advantage of this, really sewing it up. It can be
protected entirely with small cams and stoppers, and in
fact you could probably get away with just stoppers. I
followed the pitch, savoring the moves. In my sticky
shoes the pitch was very enjoyable. I'd say 5.2 is
accurate, but there are a lot of smeary friction
footholds, and Homie confirmed that it feels
significantly harder than 5.2 in stiff boots.
This pitch left us on top of a beautiful ridge leading
north to the summit. Getting off the ridge to either
side would lead us into difficult terrain, so we romped
up right on top of it, scrambling over a steep but
blocky rock buttress on the way. What a great approach
to the summit! It was fun scrambling all the way to the
top. We signed the register and lounged on the summit
for a half hour, enjoying the sunshine and eating. From
here we previewed one of our next objectives for the
summer: Fair Glacier on Apache Peak. It was 13 miles
away by line of sight, but it looked awesome.
I couldn't help thinking back on my last technical
ascent of Longs, via Kiener's Route, on January 1,
2000. On that day I had been utterly wasted on the
summit and could barely drag myself back down with the
support of my stronger partners. Today I wasn't even
tired. Pack weight was not the difference, nor was
there any difference in acclimatization--this was the
first time I had been over 12,000 feet all year. I
think the difference was an easier approach on the trail
(dry instead of snowy), a lower level of exertion on the
approach, lighter shoes on my feet, more sleep before
the climb (4.5 hours as opposed to zero!), much more
fluid in my body during the course of the approach and
climb (I drank 70 ounces of Gatorade between the
trailhead and the summit), and more and better food,
including lots of Gu.
We finally started down the North Face. Initially this
was fun talus hopping, but eventually we had to cross
some large snowfields to reach the rappel anchors. I
was still wearing my approach shoes, and even using an
ice axe this was an exciting descent. Much of this
descent is in "no-fall" territory as a slip would
catapult you off into a 1,000-foot void over the
Diamond. This descent was neither difficult nor steep,
but it was the most stressful part of the day for me. I
really should have changed back into my boots. At last
we reached the rock slabs of the North Face route.
At the highest rappel anchor I asked Homie if he would
toprope me while I downclimbed the rock pitch on the
North Face. Homie had climbed this face a few years
ago, but I had yet to climb it. It would be a bonus for
me if I could check it off. This involved dicey
downclimbing on slabs, avoiding snow as much as
possible, for 120 feet or so. Once I slipped on a bit
of ice. I was glad to have a rope above me. I am told
that many people ascend this route unroped every year.
I suspect this doesn't happen much in June.
Homie rappelled after me and at last we were more or
less safe. We had a few hundred feet more to descend on
snow, and Homie started a careful glissade down this
section. From here an uncontrolled slide would not dump
us off any cliffs. Into the rocks, perhaps, but no
cliffs. I took advantage of this fact and started an
uncontrolled slide. I was gaining rapidly on Homie,
sliding on my butt, feet first, and about 20 feet above
him I yelled at him to look out. He jumped sideways
with catlike swiftness, and I missed him with several
inches clearance. I was eventually able to roll over
onto my stomach and execute a self-arrest.
Now it was all over but the marching. Still glowing
with excitement from our climb, we stopped to talk to
everyone on the trail who wanted to hear from us about
our achievement. Even with all these distractions, we
reached the trailhead a minute or two after 3:00 p.m.,
for a car-to-car time of about 11:05.
Immediately we looked at the register to satisfy our
curiosity about the climber we had met at Chasm Lake.
It had been none other than "Into Thin Air" author Jon
Krakauer, and his partner was Longs Peak legend Bill
Briggs. They had not signed out, so we lounged around
at the trailhead hoping they would be down soon. Within
20 minutes they arrived, and we chatted with them about
their ascent of the Red Wall. (They said it "wanders
around a lot" and "the 5.10 rating is not soft.") They
commented that we must have been very fast on our
climb--a charitable comment of almost embarrassing
stature, coming from the likes of these climbers.
I
measure up to these guys like tourist hikers--those that
make it less than a mile up the trail--compare to me.
These hard guys were gracious and made us feel cool.
Even if I won't ever climb like them, I ought to act
more like them.
Stats: We climbed the East Face of Longs, for the
standard 12-13 miles and 5000 vertical feet. You
already know the rest. A fantastic day in perfect
weather. The Best Mountain in Colorado keeps getting
better.
Photos by John Prater and
Mark Oveson
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