TR: Threading the Needle, Crestone Needle (14,197') 3.11.07

**iskibc** · 03-12-2007, 07:06 PM

TR: Threading the Needle, Crestone Needle (14,197’) 3.11.07
Pow4Brains, iskibc

Closeup from last week:

photos taken by goldenboy

The Sangre De Cristo mountain range is one of the longest mountain ranges in north America. It stretches from Poncha Pass, Colorado down to Glorieta Pass, New Mexico. There are ten mountain peaks that top the 14,000’ mark, all rising 7,000’ from the San Luis Valley below. The Sangre de Cristos are fault block mountains with major fault lines running along both the east and west sides of the mountains and, in places, cutting right through them. The mountains were pushed up about 27 million years ago, pretty much as one big chunk of rock. If I were to choose one word for the Sangre De Cristo range, it would be “Respect”. Everything from access to difficulty to snow quality demand complete and total respect of the Sangre De Cristos. I didn’t go into this day with the respect it deserves and ended up getting bit in the end.

Pow4Brains and I headed out the door shortly after 3am with our sights set on the South Colony Lakes trailhead just outside of Westcliffe. After a long 3.5 hour drive, we arrived to cloudy skies and light snow.

Getting ready for the day at the S. Colony Lakes TH:

We arrived at the winter trailhead, fired up the sled and made our way up the South Colony 4x4 road to the summer trailhead. We parked the sled, put on our skins, and started making our way up towards Broken Hand Pass. As we broke tree line the peaks were still encompassed by the storm clouds, leaving us with the decision to push ahead or back off. A good 6” of new snow had fallen the night before. We stalled at the base of the east side face of Crestone Needle for a good 30 minutes with hope the clouds would lift and give us the opportunity to make a summit attempt. Strong winds were pounding the upper half of the surrounding peaks, creating a pretty cool scene.

Crestone Needle peaking out of the clouds:

Looking over towards Humbolt:

Marble Mountain with the clouds breaking down in the valley:

Clouds breaking away:

We inched our way up towards the pass and as we were about half-way up the clouds broke and the sun popped out. Within minutes all the clouds in the sky were gone and the winds were silent and still. It was almost like Mother Nature opened the gates and greeted us with permission to proceed.

The climb up to Broken Hand Pass was straightforward and fun. The new snow had bonded well with the old snow, so instability was not of concern. The base underneath the new snow was rock solid, so the boot packs up was fast and easy.

P4B climbing:

Then it got a little steep:

Ahhh, sun:

Halfway up Broken Hand Pass:

Up, up, up:

And into the couloir:

We were greeted to beautiful views at the top of Broken Hand. The San Luis Valley sat a good 5,000’ below us, with the Great Sand Dunes to the south and the San Juan and La Garita Mountain Ranges to the west.

P4B checking out the view:

We took a short break before making the traverse over to the start of the Needle couloir. At first sight it had looked like some of the route had melted out in comparison to last week’s photos from goldenboy. It still looked doable, so we decided to give it a go and take it step-by-step.

The traverse over to the Needle:

The south face of Crestone Needle is awe inspiring. The lower half is a consistent 40 degree pitch, while the upper half is an exposed and stomach dropping 53 degree average pitch. The peak is composed of some of the best rock I’ve ever seen, making it a fun mountaineering route.

The traverse over to the couloir took longer than expected and then we were faced with the first major challenge of the day of getting into it. I left my short rope at home, thinking we wouldn’t need it, which ended up being a big mistake. I had to down climb a good 20’ of vertical rock to get into the couloir. The other option was to down climb a few hundred feet and enter from another point that was non-technical. Of course I didn’t know this option existed until I got into the couloir. I tossed my gear onto a ledge and slowly worked my way down the rock. After making it down without incident I prepped for the climb up the couloir and bid Pow4Brains farewell.

The route. Where's Waldo?

This part should be fun:

The first part of the climb was great. The snow was perfect for kicking in steps without crampons and so I made good time making my way up and around the first ice bulge. As the couloir got tighter the pitch steepened and soon enough I knew it was time to really focus and slow things down a bit. Working my way up the couloir I was blown away by the views this route had to offer.

Working my way up:

Large pillars lined up the climber’s left side of the couloir, allowing small slivers of light to seep through from the West.

Looking down what I just climbed up:

Another Where's Waldo:

I was beginning to get tired, so I paused after every 10 steps or so to catch my breath and re-focus. I worked up higher and higher and finally reached the tight choke of the couloir. The route quickly increased from a 42 degree pitch to a 53 degree pitch within a matter of a few steps. With the dramatic increase in pitch also came a dramatic decrease in the quality of the snow. Here is where the epic begins…..

**iskibc** · 03-12-2007, 07:08 PM

Within a matter of a few steps the snow turned from soft and forgiving to impenetrable ice with 1/2” of hard snow on top. Kick, kick, kick, kick…[pause]…Kick, kick, kick, kick (this time with extra force). After 30 seconds of continuous kicking I still couldn’t get a foot hold into the snow. Maybe I was just in an isolated zone of thick melt-freeze, and just needed to move up the route or traverse over a bit to get out of it. I tried hammering away with my ice axe hoping to create some hand holds and foot holds into the snow. No luck. After hammering away for a good 2 minutes, I couldn’t get enough bite to move up or across. I was stuck 150’ below the summit with nowhere to go.

“Fuck!” I said to myself as I surveyed the scene and started rolling through the options in my head. (A) Start to work my way back down by back stepping (B) Continue to hammer away and hope to make it past this isolated section and hope the rest of the route is not like this (C) Climb the small rock rib above and hopefully find a ledge or point where I can get around the ice. I took some time and weighed out all of the options and ran through the consequences and situations in my head. My focus sharpened and the only thoughts running through my head were getting out of this situation alive. Looking down I knew a fall would be fatal, no doubt about it. My right leg began to shake as it was holding all of my weight in the one good foot hold I had. “Don’t give up now…You’re gonna make it out of this…..remain focused….” were the thoughts continually running through my mind.

I went for option (A) and slowly and carefully tried to work my way back down the steps that I had kicked in earlier. Down climbing a steep couloir is very difficult. Not only does your balance get thrown off, but it is also hard to find your foot holds. I made it two steps down before realizing this option would only lead to a fall. I was getting dizzy from trying to look down between my legs while at the same time keeping balanced. I gave up on this option and slowly worked my way back up to the start of the rock rib. I knew that option (B) was not happening as the rest of the route was glazed over and looking the same as my current position, so I was left with option (C).

At this point I was a good 30 minutes into being stuck and was beginning to get fatigued. The sun began to set and shadows cast over the couloir, making it cold again. “Am I going to spend the night in this spot?” I asked myself. Thoughts of letting go and making an effort to self-arrest came into my head, but knew that option would probably not fare that well in the end.

I inched up to the start of the rock rib and found a couple of nice hand holds to grasp onto. I pulled with all of my strength and was able to inch up the rock to where I was no longer on the snow. Every move was taxing on my body and energy levels. There was no turning back at this point, as I was committed to option (C). Looking above I didn’t see any ledges, just near vertical rock all the way to the summit. There would be no way that I could free climb the couple hundred feet to the summit, so I prayed for a miracle to happen. I knew that the climbing would get more difficult and dangerous the further I went, but had exhausted any other option that I had. My fingers had split through the fingertips of my gloves due to digging into the rock so hard. I really had no footholds, so most of the climbing came from my upper body. At one point I felt like Cliffhanger, where I was holding on for my life and death was staring at me from below. This is when I began to mentally prepare for a fall. Energy was draining by the minute and there was no glimmer of hope or relief in sight.

Heading up to the ledge:

Knowing that I had very little time to spare I focused on the task at hand and worked my way up the rock face. I managed to get some decent foot holds so I could take the stress of my body weight, pack, and skis off my upper body. My fingers tips were bleeding from cramming them into holds and holding on for dear life. After some more struggling I finally reached a point where some of the freshly fallen snow had formed a small ledge on a 3” wide rock platform. That was my only hope. Over an hour into this epic and this was truly my only hope in making it down safely.

As I moved over to the snowy ledge I was careful in making sure that I didn’t kick off all of the snow. I gingerly tapped down on the snow to compact the snow and make for a makeshift ledge. I was about 12’ above and away from the snow in the couloir. I figured if I could somehow get my skis on that I could “ski” down the rocks and try to ski out of it. It was a long shot, but really my only option left. I was worried that my dynafits wouldn’t like the stress and forces put on them from this and that they would release. I was worried I would get caught up on the rocks and tumble down. I had one good foothold and a decent handhold to get my pack off, my skis off my pack, and then clicked into my skis. Holy shit. This was going to take a great deal of luck, careful movements, and luck. If I dropped any of my gear I would be doomed. I carefully unbuckled my pack and slipped it off my left shoulder, hoping the swing in weight wouldn’t throw off my balance. I didn’t realize how heavy my pack was until I took it off. The foot with all my weight on it slipped a little as I took my pack off and tried to rest it on the small arête next to me. I quickly grabbed hold of the rock with both hands and dug my fingernails into the granite. I was slipping and needed to regain my foothold, and fast. My fingernails scratched down the granite like nails on a chalkboard, breaking two of my fingernails off and leaving nasty abrasions on the rest. I managed to lock my foot into a nice hole a couple inches below my previous foothold. “Phheeeewwwww”.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead and repositioned up on the ledge. My arms and hands were trembling, so I took a minute to rest and regain my focus. Once I was ready to go again I started to unbuckle my pack to get my skis out. When I released the second buckle my pack flipped upside down and my skis began to slip out of the strap. “No, no, no, no…..Fuuuuck!”. The next few moments happened in slow motion. What was only a couple of seconds felt like minutes. I watched as my skis slipped through the strap and my reaction was in slow motion. With my free hand I reached down and grabbed the tails of my skis at the very last second. My grip was slipping, but I had managed to pin the tips of my skis against an opposing rock wall. Losing my skis would have sealed the deal. I would have been spending the night on that ledge waiting for S&R. A rush of adrenaline flowed through my body while I got a better grip on my skis and slowly and carefully pulled them back up the rock.

Once I got my skis into a position where they wouldn’t fall, I worked on getting my pack back on. I managed to get the shoulder straps on, but didn’t bother with buckling the pack as it would put me in an awkward position. I needed that hand hold and couldn’t free both hands. At this point I was over the 2-hour mark since I first got stuck and my energy was all but gone. Dehydration had set in and I was beginning to feel dizzy and nauseous. I needed to move quickly but carefully. I laid one ski down on the snow ledge and slowly stepped into my dynafits. The first several tries were unsuccessful as the inserts had snow in them and I wasn’t getting the correct angle. After some more struggling I stepped into them and heard them click. One down, one more to go. The next ski would be very difficult as there was really no room for a second ski on this ledge. I carefully slid my outside ski over to the edge and felt pretty confident about it sticking to the edge of the rock. I placed my inside ski down on the ledge at an angle and held onto the bottom of it while I clicked in.

I wonder what was going through my mind here?

Now for the final task. The moment of truth. I basically had to side slip down 10’ or so of rock and onto the snow of the couloir. I leaned against the side of the rock wall, grasped a couple of good handholds and let my skis slip down the rock. Sparks flew and that awful grinding sound ensued. My body quickly followed suit and before I knew it I was sliding down the rock and quickly approaching the snow. I don’t remember much around this point as the adrenaline and rush of the moment took over everything. All I remember is holding on tight and committing to the downward direction, hoping my skis would hit the snow before my body. My tips hit the snow first and then my tails soon followed. I made a sliding stop on the snow and knew that I was out of it. A large sigh of relief engulfed my body.

**iskibc** · 03-12-2007, 07:08 PM

The hard part was over but I wasn’t out of the woods just yet. I buckled up my boots, took a breather and then slowly made my way down the rest of the couloir. After some marginal skiing and climbing I made it back to Pow4brains, who had been perched up on the rocky knoll for a good 2.5 hours. When I saw his face he looked like a ghost. We stood there for a moment looking at each other and then he finally said, “Ho-lee-Shit….That is the most intense thing I had ever seen…”. The sun was beginning to set and we still had a ways to go back to the sled. After a couple of cliff shots and a liter of water, we worked back across the traverse and down the couloir off Broken Hand Pass. The snow was great. We had a nice 2,000’ run of soft pow back down to the sled. Definitely a great way to end an epic day.

P4B:

Sun setting on the peaks:

Sunset from the TH:

Today was a test, both mentally and physically. This was the first time that I have ever truly feared for my life while skiing/climbing. The snow in that couloir is not safe. It’s amazing at how quickly the snow had gone from soft and manageable to bulletproof ice. I will never forget this day for as long as I live. I’m pretty sure someone was looking over me up on that ledge. It was not my time to go, but I sure did stare death in the face.

**AKPogue** · 03-12-2007, 07:13 PM

WOW!

**Phill** · 03-12-2007, 07:22 PM

HOLY SHIT

**marshalolson** · 03-12-2007, 07:23 PM

I SAY GODDAMN!

really wish i could have made it down... holy shit that is rad...

**Phill** · 03-12-2007, 07:24 PM

again HOLY SHIT, glad you are still alive.

Edit: just looking at that line in the first couple pics I would be skiing that on maxed out 920s with an ice axe in each hand even if the snow wasnt icey. I hope that oneday my balls (and skills) grow to be as large as yours.

**danadog** · 03-12-2007, 07:27 PM

Way to get after and back home!
Great TR!

**flatNshallow** · 03-12-2007, 07:28 PM

Holy shit.

**El Kanone** · 03-12-2007, 07:29 PM

Nice work Dude. I had a life and death expierience in the Blood of Christ Range once too, on Kit Carson Peak. Way to stay focused and keep your head.

**Camel Toad** · 03-12-2007, 07:29 PM

Saweeeeet!

Ummmm can I come visit some time...

**mtnbikerskierchick** · 03-12-2007, 07:30 PM

You guys have some great shots in there! All I can say is after looking at that thing last weekend on our Crestone trip is "Holy Shit"! That thing has got to be scary to climb in those icy conditions!!!!! So glad you guys made it down safe!!!!!

**~mikey b** · 03-12-2007, 07:32 PM

great read, Dave. Thanks for that. Glad you made it down ok.

**Fritz** · 03-12-2007, 07:35 PM

Nice recovery. I love that range.

**Cruiser** · 03-12-2007, 07:35 PM

I'm speechless. Way to get 'er done.

**Below Zero** · 03-12-2007, 07:36 PM

Holy fucking shit. I don't even know what to say.

**mrryde** · 03-12-2007, 07:38 PM

HOLY FUCK

**Kya** · 03-12-2007, 07:40 PM

Dude

**skier666** · 03-12-2007, 07:40 PM

I think I burned calories reading that!

Once again, stellar pics!

**smitchell333** · 03-12-2007, 07:45 PM

Glad you pulled through to tell the tale. Speaks volumes of your courage and strength to get stuck and find a solution out.

Do you ever use crampons? I've definitely been in situations where a boot would not stand a chance but crampons made it doable.

**PowderPig** · 03-12-2007, 07:45 PM

Holeeeee crap!

Intense reading to say the least...

Glad you came out of it OK!

**marshalolson** · 03-12-2007, 07:52 PM

ps stoked that the sketchy eyeballed dynafit mount held

what a way to test it!

**hutash** · 03-12-2007, 07:52 PM

That was an intense TR. Glad that you kept your cool and worked through it. Skiing ten feet of rock sounds interesting. Mind if I barrow YOUR skis sometime and try it?

**LeeLau** · 03-12-2007, 07:54 PM

hey dave - if you ever come and visit me. Would you do me a favour and NOT tell my wife about this little incident. She doesn't need to know that skiing couloirs involves this kind of stuff.

Thanks in advance and glad you made it out ok