UP AND UP WE GO

Up and up we go. Up to find our feet atop a mass of rocks taller than the rest; for our eyes to gaze upon what they seldom see - the world below. Some may consider it escapism. And perhaps it is.

But perhaps not to run away, but towards something.
Towards something quiet and brimming with solitude. Towards something that stirs fear and excitement, yet is no less enchanting by what awaits. For the simplicity of taking the mind only to that one step in front of you...and then to the next.

Not up for the frivolous idea of conquering the land, but to simply grasp and enjoy the beauty the world beholds. And perhaps, even towards conquering fear, and growing with process. It’s up to find the sense of adventure often stifled by the world - the world below.

Yes to escape - to escape the noise and the lights, the artificial and the comfort and the tame, and to run towards something wild. Something more free yet more bounded by the natural laws of the Earth than the world below. Up and up we go - to be free. Up and up we go to discover what we cannot find below.

Back in early June my partner and I found a window in the forecast and our work schedules to pursue an adventure we had been dreaming of for a few years. The trip would require 2 days/1 night, ~24 miles, and climbing up to 9,500ft in elevation, most of which would involve carrying our backpacking gear in addition to all of our ski gear (boots, skis, skins, avalanche safety gear, and some climbing gear). We carefully studied the map, identified and talked over our route, secured backcountry permits, and found ourselves at the trailhead, heaving heavy packs unto our shoulders.

Marching through Spring and headed towards Winter. Immense greenery, new blossoms, and an abundance of water along the trail was present throughout the beginning of our journey. Meanwhile, the snow up high provided us with our orientation.

After reaching snow line we donned our skis (finally some weight off our backs!) and worked our way through the vast glacier basin. The skies were growing darker and worries of rain increased, but luckily the weather seemed to be staved off by the big mountain that dominates the sky in this area.

Eventually we found a place suitable for camp and close enough to our climbing objective for the next morning. Our choices for pitching a tent were made simple: a hard slab of rock where stakes could not be placed, or a patch of icy snow where “T” slots could be made to burry the stakes and the cord. With the impending wind storm scheduled for the night, we chose the snow patch. Thankfully we put our tent where we did. 50mph wind gusts came through the basin that night and our stakes stayed secure as the snow around use froze completely. Needless to say, we did not get much sleep that night.

With our tent set up, and warm dinners in our hands, we watched as the evening light began to filter into the glacier basin. While winter seemed to surround us, signs of spring such as open pools of water reminded us that the snow was melting fast.

From camp, looking up to what would be in store for us the next day with the goal of reaching the high point sitting on the right side of the picture.

Our climb the next morning began around 6am (our camp is just out of frame in this picture towards the bottom). The winds had died down in the morning, which made for a pleasant breakfast as the sun rose.

With the bulk of the more meticulous part of climb beneath us, we made one last push to the summit.

The last 200 feet to the summit was almost entirely melted out forcing us to swap our ski gear for our trail runners in order to scramble what remained of our climb. Once on the summit ridge, we made our final steps to our high point and what would become the culmination of an adventure we had talked about for so long. With good visibility and light winds, everything was coming together and we couldn’t have asked for a better day.

On the top!

And now…we go down.