Friday, 7:30am: Dave & i are at the Marblemount Ranger Station chatting up Ranger Rosemary & Ranger Kip, the cat-lovin' hero whose distress call saved Dr. Steve Luther's kitty from starvation a few weeks ago (but that's another story)...Apparently we're having too good of a time, because the guy behind us announces loudly: "I'M GOING INTO THE PICKETS. I HAVE A BOAT TO CATCH". We snicker, and repeat that quote the rest of the trip.
9am: Hit the trail, feeling elated.
11am: We're in Hell, dripping sweat, bombarded by flies. Dave's organic bug spray makes the little bastards hungrier. We stop to dip in a waterfall and debate whether to bag climbing and go to Winthrop for an air-conditioned room and a pool. Foolishness and stubborness win out over common sense, we keep going. Once on the moraine, the wind picks up and the bugs miraculously disappear. Hurray!
Late afternoon: We are camping in the most jaw-droppingly beautiful site, on a snowfield amongst the Tepeh Towers, about a mile beyond Eldorado Camp across the Inspiration Glacier. We are surrounded 360 degrees by endless glaciers and peaks. The Forbidden Massif looms across the valley. It's balmy and the mountains turn pink in the alpenglow.
Saturday, 9am: I comment on our non-alpine start. Dave says we have 12 hrs of daylight. We head out across the glacier towards Klawatti Col.
10am: We are standing at the base of Klawatti Peak, trying to figure out an alternate route. The southwest ridge doesn't look bad. Dave sees a ramp that he thinks will go. He leads a running belay, there are a few exposed 5th class moves but the rest is 3rd class. A few hundred feet from the top we leave the rope to walk to the summit.
Noonish: @*%#! Where'd we leave our rope? Oh, whew, there it is!
1pm: We are on the McAllister Glacier, rappelling through a notch to get down to the sprawling Klawatti Glacier.
Twoish: Is that Austera Peak? Hmmm, doesn't look like the photos. The Beckey guide describes it as wedge-shaped. Yeah, i can see that. Well, we're on the wrong side of the mountain now, but this gulley looks like it'll go.
A few minutes later: Dave is leading, now he's belaying me and I'm whining about the sketchy sandy downsloping ledges, I'm not feeling the love on this thing. He promises that the rock gets better higher up. I've not rock climbed in a year and I can feel it.
A few minutes later: Dave yells ROCK! Then he is screaming it frantically. By his tone of voice I know it's serious. I look up & see a few dinner-plate sized rocks hurtling my way. I think OH F*@K!! I hug my anchor and feel a big one touch my foot, a smaller piece bounces off my helmet. Hey, I'm still alive! Dave probably thinks I'm dead because my jaw locks up and I can't yell back up to him for a few minutes.
Fifteen minutes later: We're standing on the summit of...NOT Austera. We can see Austera thumbing her nose at us in the distance. We have to laugh. We are both a little shaken and want to get off this god-forsaken heap of rubble that we name "Despera". We rap off the other side, then find a pleasant series of ledges to scramble that pop us out right on the Klawatti Glacier at the base of Austera Peak. Sure enough, the summit gulley looks just like the photo!
Six-ish: We scramble the gulley, then Dave leads the pitch of exposed rock to the summit. This seems so much easier than Despera: blissful clean hard granite. We are out of rap material so Dave cuts a piece of his rope for an anchor off the summit block.
Nine pm: We drag our tired arses back to camp beneath a technicolor sunset. The tent is a most welcome sight. We scarf some dinner and pass out.
Sun 9am: I peek outside and see a rope team heading our way, the first people we've seen since Friday afternoon. They're Seattle Mountaineers, going to climb Dorado Needle. We'd planned to climb it today but have lost our mojo after the 12 hour funfest yesterday. They're talking about the film "Vertical Limit": how preposterous that one would cuts one's father off the rope.. We have fun drinking coffee and watching them huddle and re-huddle. They're not moving fast. After about an hour they turn around and come back. Not enough time to climb it today, and the glacier is pretty broken up, they say. We concur. We'll be back some other time.
Noonish: We stop at Eldorado camp to get water and unrope, the Eldo Glacier seems so safe. There are 20 or so climbers milling around. It feels like a mini Everest base camp here compared to our campsite.
Thirty minutes later: I punch through a crevasse up to my knee, feel lots of air beneath. It's a creepy feeling. Many crevasses have opened up since Friday. We're on red alert until safely onto the moraine.
Two pm: We are back in HELL. The bugs are relentless and it's bloody hot. The blue bags are starting to reek. My feet & shoulders hurt. I want to give up. Is this f-ing trail ever gonna end? I tell Dave that I'm done with climbing for a while, at least until it gets cooler.
Four pm: We are splashing in the river, drinking cold beer that Dave thoughtfully planted there Friday am, feeling human again.
Seven pm: We are at the Train Wreck with Dean, Ruth, & Jules, eating, drinking and catching up. Ruth is admiring the wicked bruises on my legs. We tell our friends about the sheer beauty of the camp site and the endless glaciers, the thrill of climbing. We mention in passing the bugs and the heat, we have mostly forgotten about these small matters.
Eleven thirty pm: I am home, clean and sleepy, thumbing through guide books, dreaming about what to climb next. Summer is ticking away.