The Stats: What list would be complete without them?
September 27, 2009 - October 16, 2011
Summits: 77
Routes: 69
Pitches: 373
Leads: 319
Car-to-Car time on the Third: 1hr. 12 min.
Partners: Jen, Mark, Shaun B., Shawn C., Noah, Dave M., Dave S., James, Glen, Adele, Jason, Rom, Jamie, A.J.
Summits: 77
Routes: 69
Pitches: 373
Leads: 319
Car-to-Car time on the Third: 1hr. 12 min.
Partners: Jen, Mark, Shaun B., Shawn C., Noah, Dave M., Dave S., James, Glen, Adele, Jason, Rom, Jamie, A.J.
Noah and me sporting some Colorado pride on the Seal.
Prologue
This report is random. It has snippets from various other reports that I've already written and some new ones. I can't promise that they'll be in order nor will I promise that they will make any sense. Really, the best idea is to just look through the photos. This is supposed to give a feel for what it took to complete Dr. Flatiron and nothing more. The solitude found in the hills above Boulder is baffling! Especially when considering the proximity to a major city and the vast numbers of recreational hikers milling about on the trails. Throughout all of these climbs, with the exception of the First, Second and Third Flatirons, I only once crossed paths with another climber. It was on my second-to-last of the classics and on the obscure East Ridge of Southern Shanahan Slab. I was so shocked to see someobdy else that I down-climbed to him and asked to shake his hand. No wonder I wasn't the least bit surprised when he informed me that he was also questing after his doctorate degree in the Flatirons! The Flatirons gave me the skills to climb, an appreciation of beauty, and a thirst for adventure. Enjoy!
Hooked
"Climb on".
I smiled and said "Thanks" as I stepped up onto the rock. This was my first roped climb in the Flatirons and I was ecstatic. It had been a beautiful day, and we were the only ones on the rock as the evening approached. As we quickly moved up the easy rock, I felt like we were chasing the sun. The shadow of the Third seemed to reach out of the shadow of Green Mountain as the darkness moved over Boulder.
The fresh air and solitude we had on this extremely popular rock was intoxicating. Our spirits and moved up as we did. As we topped out we enjoyed the sun that we had been trying to keep up with all along and we relished in the warmth. Casually surveying the surroundings I eyed the formations that could be hiding Cavernous Sinus. I knew it was there, but where?
As the sun met the horizon we left our solitary perch to return to the car and other commitments. It had been a great day and I felt that I was finally learning the formations and the rock.
So you think you can climb?
An awkward step was all that stood between me and the bolted anchor 10 feet above, but the fear had already started to creep in. The thought of my last and only piece of protection resting precariously 60 feet below my smeared feet was pressing on my mind and I couldn't help but wonder if this was a good idea. After having successfully climbed the Third Flatiron the week before, the Direct East Face on the First Flatiron had seemed like a logical step. I was quickly beginning to regret our assumption that we were ready for this and wished that we knew what we were doing.
The air was crisp with the frosty chill of fall and the trees held onto the previous day's snow. The clouds were low and my breath billowed slowly out into the morning air. The first pitch had gone relatively smoothly and the bolts created a familiar illusion of safety. The second pitch had turned out to be harder than I anticipated due to the finicky pro. Focusing on my breathing, I attempted to push back the doubt and concentrate on the moves ahead. Just as I geared to attack, a barrage of ice and snow tumbled down the face and quickly carried any courage I had straight to the ground. Fear fueled the moves to the anchor and I scratched my way upward and clipped into the bolt. As I breathed a heavy sigh of relief I glanced down to see that my only piece of gear had fallen out and slid down the rope to rest on Shaun's harness. "I didn't have the heart to tell you." echoed up from below. As it started to snow I was barely able to hide my internal relief at having an excuse to bail. The rappels down the face went smoothly and I had never been happier to reach terra firma. As we hiked out I wondered if I would ever be back to the Flatirons.
The air was crisp with the frosty chill of fall and the trees held onto the previous day's snow. The clouds were low and my breath billowed slowly out into the morning air. The first pitch had gone relatively smoothly and the bolts created a familiar illusion of safety. The second pitch had turned out to be harder than I anticipated due to the finicky pro. Focusing on my breathing, I attempted to push back the doubt and concentrate on the moves ahead. Just as I geared to attack, a barrage of ice and snow tumbled down the face and quickly carried any courage I had straight to the ground. Fear fueled the moves to the anchor and I scratched my way upward and clipped into the bolt. As I breathed a heavy sigh of relief I glanced down to see that my only piece of gear had fallen out and slid down the rope to rest on Shaun's harness. "I didn't have the heart to tell you." echoed up from below. As it started to snow I was barely able to hide my internal relief at having an excuse to bail. The rappels down the face went smoothly and I had never been happier to reach terra firma. As we hiked out I wondered if I would ever be back to the Flatirons.
I get by with a little help from my friends...
Death on the Hammerhead
It was shaping up to be another blistering hot day in the Flatirons. I was lacing up my climbing shoes at the base of the East Ridge on the Hammerhead. Being used to class 4 in the mountains I had been comfortable with my plan of soloing the route until I got to the base of it. It was low angled but longer and seemingly smooth up to the imposing summit block.
I did not anticipate there being a learning curve in reading Flatiron rock. As I headed up I found myself on rock harder than 4th class and realized I was off route. I was on the right side of the face and needed to be left. There was a small wall between me and the easier rock and I wasn't sure how to get across it. I was by a tree with some rappel slings where I'm sure someone else off route had bailed to the north. I stopped to snap a photo of Royal Arch and promptly dropped my camera. I watched helplessly as it bounced down the face, off the north side, and through the brush into the north gully. Bummed, I un-shouldered by pack, got out my scrambling rope and harnessed up. I rappelled of the side and drudged down to find my camera. Eventually I found it smashed in a bush about 300 feet down the gully. Fortunately I salvaged the photos and the hike by going up to Royal Arch and scrambling to the top. As I soaked up the view from the arch, I imagined myself tumbling down the steep rock that I had allowed myself to stray onto. I would be more prepared next time.
I did not anticipate there being a learning curve in reading Flatiron rock. As I headed up I found myself on rock harder than 4th class and realized I was off route. I was on the right side of the face and needed to be left. There was a small wall between me and the easier rock and I wasn't sure how to get across it. I was by a tree with some rappel slings where I'm sure someone else off route had bailed to the north. I stopped to snap a photo of Royal Arch and promptly dropped my camera. I watched helplessly as it bounced down the face, off the north side, and through the brush into the north gully. Bummed, I un-shouldered by pack, got out my scrambling rope and harnessed up. I rappelled of the side and drudged down to find my camera. Eventually I found it smashed in a bush about 300 feet down the gully. Fortunately I salvaged the photos and the hike by going up to Royal Arch and scrambling to the top. As I soaked up the view from the arch, I imagined myself tumbling down the steep rock that I had allowed myself to stray onto. I would be more prepared next time.
Quest for a cave
This is taken from excerpts of my trip report on SP "Getting to Know Green Mountain".
I soon bought Gerry Roach's Flatiron Classics and flipped through it. My eye immediately stopped on his description of Cavernous Sinus. It was casually thrown in with his list of main trails in the area and was described as a cave hidden on the slopes of Green Mountain. There was no trail, no people, and that it "rivaled Mallory Cave in size". I had to find it!
I figured the best place to start would be to go and check out Mallory Cave. Although Cavernous Sinus was on Green Mountain, Mallory would give me an idea of what I was looking for. The bat roosting closure had recently been lifted, so some friends and I went to check it out. Just like Royal Arch, a solid trail led right to the scrambling ramp up to the cave. The strange path to the cave made it easy to imagine why Mallory Cave was lost for many years before being rediscovered. After happily soaking up the sun and the views we clipped back to the trailhead.
Instead of scouring the hills blindly for Cavernous Sinus, I decided the best way to go would be to climb. The better I got to know the slopes of Green Mountain, the sooner I could find it. Plus, the tops of the formations proved to be an excellent vantage point to scope out the slopes.
I soon found myself tying my shoes again at the base of the Hammerhead. Determined to stay on route and hold onto my camera I moved up the rock. Now familiar with Flatiron slabs, I enjoyed the feeling of the class 4 rock. Few people know that the east ridge of the Hammerhead is home to the longest arch above Boulder, and I felt my senses rise as I climbed right over it.
As I climbed more and more, the slopes became familiar. The tricky backcountry spots all seemed like home as I moved through the trail-less brush. The formations and routes blurred...
Two years after I started exploring the Flatirons, I had climbed an obscure formation on Green Mountain and finally decided where I thought the elusive cave was. I soon made way up from Chautauqua and onto the slopes. Casually moving through the scrubby terrain, I made right for where I thought Cavernous Sinus. To my surprise, I say a single set of recent footprints heading up the snow to where I thought the cave would be. I nosed around anything that could be an entrance. I found a tight passage that wormed up into the rock. It was too tight for me with my pack so I stashed it and worked my way into the hole.
After about 50 feet of horrible and dirty wiggling up, I saw some light. Pushing through the upper hole I came out simply higher from where I went in. No dice. I thought I had it all wrong.
As a last resort I tried one more place.
Trying not to get my hopes up I peered into the new entrance. I took off my pack and pushed it through the hole above me and crawled in. I had found it!
I soon bought Gerry Roach's Flatiron Classics and flipped through it. My eye immediately stopped on his description of Cavernous Sinus. It was casually thrown in with his list of main trails in the area and was described as a cave hidden on the slopes of Green Mountain. There was no trail, no people, and that it "rivaled Mallory Cave in size". I had to find it!
I figured the best place to start would be to go and check out Mallory Cave. Although Cavernous Sinus was on Green Mountain, Mallory would give me an idea of what I was looking for. The bat roosting closure had recently been lifted, so some friends and I went to check it out. Just like Royal Arch, a solid trail led right to the scrambling ramp up to the cave. The strange path to the cave made it easy to imagine why Mallory Cave was lost for many years before being rediscovered. After happily soaking up the sun and the views we clipped back to the trailhead.
Instead of scouring the hills blindly for Cavernous Sinus, I decided the best way to go would be to climb. The better I got to know the slopes of Green Mountain, the sooner I could find it. Plus, the tops of the formations proved to be an excellent vantage point to scope out the slopes.
I soon found myself tying my shoes again at the base of the Hammerhead. Determined to stay on route and hold onto my camera I moved up the rock. Now familiar with Flatiron slabs, I enjoyed the feeling of the class 4 rock. Few people know that the east ridge of the Hammerhead is home to the longest arch above Boulder, and I felt my senses rise as I climbed right over it.
As I climbed more and more, the slopes became familiar. The tricky backcountry spots all seemed like home as I moved through the trail-less brush. The formations and routes blurred...
Two years after I started exploring the Flatirons, I had climbed an obscure formation on Green Mountain and finally decided where I thought the elusive cave was. I soon made way up from Chautauqua and onto the slopes. Casually moving through the scrubby terrain, I made right for where I thought Cavernous Sinus. To my surprise, I say a single set of recent footprints heading up the snow to where I thought the cave would be. I nosed around anything that could be an entrance. I found a tight passage that wormed up into the rock. It was too tight for me with my pack so I stashed it and worked my way into the hole.
After about 50 feet of horrible and dirty wiggling up, I saw some light. Pushing through the upper hole I came out simply higher from where I went in. No dice. I thought I had it all wrong.
As a last resort I tried one more place.
Trying not to get my hopes up I peered into the new entrance. I took off my pack and pushed it through the hole above me and crawled in. I had found it!
