Royal Flush, Frisco, CO

20 pitches, sport, 5.4 – 5.9.

Attempted 6/14/2012

Cristina and I arrived in Frisco Wednesday night, camping at the Peak One Campground on NFS land. We awoke early the next morning at 6 AM, headed into town and then to the parking lot. We arrived in the climbers' lot at 7:30.

We were attempting Royal Flush, a 20 pitch sport route that starts off on easy slab (5.4) before growing progressively difficult as you approach the headwall, were you encounter consistent 5.8 for 3 or 4 pitches to the summit. I decided on the early start for two reasons: my knowledge of the route was minimal and conditions were supposed to turn sour in the afternoon, with storms forecast. The developer of the route, Tim Toula, has specifically requested that no route topos be produced and limited the publication of full route descriptions, so all we had were meager explanations for each pitch taken from Mountain Project. This was supposed to be an alpine climb, and it sure lived up to that expectation.

We found the base of the climb without any difficulty. Cristina and I had agreed that the leader would proceed without a pack while the second would climb with our single pack, holding our water, some food, and a few extra layers. Not knowing how fast we would proceed and worried about conditions, we had thrown in more than we needed and the pack was surprisingly heavy. Having discussed it earlier, we had decided I'd link the first three pitches and that Cristina would lead the next one or link it up with the fifth pitch depending on the difficulty.

Without the weight of the pack, I made quick progress through the first three pitches. Each move was simple, 5.4 climbing at its best, flowing from one into the next. At times I felt like I could try and run up some of the lesser angled slabs, but not quite. About halfway through the second pitch, I noticed on the slab above me an unusual sight: a large mountain goat was on the slab, picking at the greenery growing from among the many cracks on the face. The rest of the pitches were uneventful, and my 60M rope just made it to the 3^rd pitch's anchors. I quickly set up an anchor through the bolts and belayed up Cristina. Leading the tree pitches took 20 minutes; we were doing great.

Cristina seconding the 3rd pitch

The next pitch went just fine. Cristina was a little tired from having hauled the heavy pack up three pitches, so she was moving a little slower than I had. Still, she quickly made her way through the 4^th pitch. Unfortunately, things with the 5^th pitch were not as easy.

After the relative ease of the 4^th pitch, she went straight into leading the 5^th. However, the link up was not going to go: she reached a roof about 20' up from the 4^th pitch's anchors and could not pull it. After briefly talking it out, I lowered her to the anchors and had her belay me up. Knowing that the pack would not make anything easier for her, I took it for the lead.

Self-portrait taken after the first few pitches

I quickly made my way up to the roof and immediately agreed: it was stiffer than expected for the route grade. I ultimately managed to pull the roof by traversing left about 6' to a more fractured area of the roof, were I was able to gain a few jugs to make the roof feasible with the pack. Even with a few jugs, I was nervous about the pendulum onto the ledge below the roof that would result if I slipped. But after pulling the roof, I managed to traverse back right to the bolt line and then the anchors, belaying Cristina up to me without difficulty.

Five pitches down, and though we weren't moving at the same quick pace we had started at, we were doing fine. But then things turned for the worse.

Mountain Project describes the sixth pitch as a 30M traverse right over 4^th class rock. Cristina moved out, unroped, to check out the traverse but could not find it. Frustrated, I had her come back and rope up and did so myself. The fifth pitch ended right below a nice, large ledge, so I had her take a seat and belay me while I searched for the traverse. I moved right, slinging a tree about 15' down the ledge, and moved out onto very exposed 4^th class rock that I though may have been right. These traverse quickly turned into low 5^th class rock though, and it became clear that where ever I was, it was not where I was supposed to be. By this time, I had traversed 50' right from the tree, my only 'protection,' but with no more trees and no rock pro, I could only make sure I didn't fall. It was about this time that the sun cleared the ridge and thus shined straight down in line with the angle of the rock, making it impossible for me to look up or around for bolts. Unable to see much, I could only keep traversing, knowing that every foot further out away from my single point of protection was another foot I would pendulum if I feel. About 20' further right and about 10' up, nearly 100 feet away from the slung tree, I found a huge flake that I was able to sling and then fix my line to. Knowing that this was not the right spot, but with no idea where the bolt line was, I decided that I would traverse the fixed line to Cristina, bring her over to me, and that we would then be able to bail out right into a gulley.

After doing just that, Cristina broke down the fixed line while I free soloed 4^th and then 3^rd class rock to find an escape. After about 10 minutes, I found the gulley whose existence I guessed and found that we would be able to follow it upwards to a large ledge, a huge area where we'd be able to sit, think, eat, and plan.

Cristina and I talked after gaining the ledge and decided that since it was now growing late (it was about 11:30; we expected storms starting around 2pm) and that since we didn't know where we were, that we would bail using the gulley to hike out. Though steep and loose with talus, I thought this feasible and reasonable. After munching on our lunch though, I got restless and explored our ledge. About 15 feet away from the large boulder on which we'd eaten, I was surprised to find a carrion. Following that and a second one, I eventually made my way to a rock rib further up the ledge only to find glistening bolts riding the top edge of the rib. I quickly made my way back to Cristina with news of my find.

After re-reading the route description, we established that those bolts belonged to the 10^th pitch. Excited by our good luck, and with no clear evidence of a storm moving in, we decided to pick up from there. I led the pitch, 5.7, with the pack, but could make it no further the fourth bolt. After all the stress of the traverse and being lost, we just didn't have the strength left. We could have pushed through, but not if we wanted to be in any condition to react appropriately to deteriorating weather. Admitting defeat, I cleaned the bolts as I down climbed back to the ledge.

At this time, another group came up to the base of the climb. They had started much later than us, but this was their third attempt and had the first dozen pitches pretty well down. In talking with them, I was furious to learn were we'd gone wrong in finding the route: there is no traverse. After pitch five, you move up to the small ledge (where I had Cristina belay me from) and move straight up into what Mountain Project calls pitch seven. All the searching we had done for bolts, scanning all of the rock to the right of the ledge, was for nought. And with the sun below the ridge, we hadn't seen the metal glittering or anything. This group was also able to give us crucial beta on the descent, explaining that the 8^th pitch tops out immediately below the large ledge where we had done lunch, accessed via a small trail that winds its way down the front.

Exactly where we were told to expect it, we found the rappel rings. 8 Rappels later, we hit ground and walked back to the car, exhausted. It was now past three, and dark clouds were all around the horizon; no storm had broken yet, though our spirits had.

Upset at our failure to climb Royal Flush, we buoyed ourselves with the thing that always helps me feel better: food. Over pretty delicious Mexican food, we discussed the successes and failures from the day. Our over-weighted pack was certainly a factor, as was our lack of knowledge on the route, in understanding the failure. This was compounded by the stress of getting lost and my subsequent sketchy traverse. We succeeded in maintaining a positive decision making process, taking the time to evaluate options and retreating as things progressively deteriorated. Ultimately though, I chalk this failure up as more of a lesson about alpine climbing: be prepared for things to go wrong, go light, and have your escape planed before you start. I know we could have done the climb with much less in the pack, but without knowing more about the route, I was unwilling to give up some of the supplies for fear that we could have been stuck overnight. Knowing what I know now, I'm certain we would have been fine with nothing more than our rain gear and water in the pack, accepting that on that route, bailing is possible at almost any point.

In the end, it was a long, tiring day. But what can I say, that's how I love them!

A mini-epic?

This update covers Pichincha Rucu, New Years in Quito, and the mini-epic of Volcan Corazon.

I met up with a crew from SAE on Wednesday night for pub trivia. One of the other members there, Jim Spark, and I struck up a conversation and learned he was a seasoned climber. He has done Kiliminjaro, Aconcagua, Denali, Everest, and Cho Oyu, among many other mountains. After talking to him for about three hours, our team went on to win the trivia challenge!

The next morning I met up with two Americans, Dave and Jeb, and their Ecuadorian friend Belang. We went up these trolly carts on the city limits to Cruz Loma, the starting point for the ascent of Pichincha Rucu (4627m).

We bumped into Jim on his way back; he had just done what is supposed to be a 2 - 3 hour ascent in an hour and 19 minutes! We continued on our way but were forced to turn back from the summit base as clouds and rain moved in; Dave and Jeb's bags had been lost by the airline, so they didn't have any of their shells with them.

Though we were frustrated, we had a great time. Belang's mother invited me over for dinner at their house, were they were all staying, and cooked an awesome meal that put a great finish to the day.

The next day New Years eve, so I hung with Dave and Jeb while Belang visited family. We went into Old Town Quito and had a great time walking around and seeing the sites. We even got off onto some side streets, giving us the chance to see lots of Ecuadorians in their pre-festive shopping. Unfortunately, on the ride back we were pick-pocketed. Thankfully they only got both of our phones, but still it was frustrating. It was ironic because as we had gotten on the trolley, I told them: "If there is anywhere where you will be be pick-pocketed, it's going to be on this bus, so watch your stuff!" We did good till the last second, as we had to take our hands off our pockets to fight our way off the bus.

That night was another adventure in itself. Traditional New Years festivities in Quito are a bit unique as far as I've heard. They build effigies of people from the year past, and then the men dress up as the widows, dancing in the street begging for money for the effigies' funeral. Well low and behold, Belang gets Dave, Jeb, and I dressed up in some of her outfits and had us dance in the streets for money! It was a very... unique experience, but I don't think I will ever want to do something like that again! After we embarrassed ourselves, we went to SAE and enjoy bringing in the New Year with the other members. We played some games, ate grapes (another tradition), and then burned and jumped over the effigies. As this all wrapped up around 1 am, Jeb and Dave went home while Belang and I went out clubbing with some of her local friends. We had a good time, but I didn't get back to the hostal until 6 am. And then found someone else sleeping in my bed!

The next day I met a group of Canadians and spent the day around Quito with them. We had a good afternoon walking around the giant statue of the Virgin Mary overlooking Old Town. However, after a rough ride back to the hostal I started feeling very ill. A hot cup of tea, all of my climbing fleeces and base layers, and Motrin made the world feel alright though. Went out to dinner with the Canadians before an early bedtime.

Woke up the next morning at 6 am and met with Dave, Jeb, and Belang for our train to Aloasi. We arrived at about 10:15 am, intending on climbing Volcan Corazon (4788m) after leaving from the station, what is supposed to be a 9 - 11 hour hike. We left some stuff at the haciendo (farmhouse-style hotel) before starting our hike at 10:30 am, with the wind carrying the haciendo's owner's voice saying we were crazy to start so late in the day for the summit. Undeterred, we made great progress initially. We past the first landmark and followed a very rough dirt road higher and higher up the face. We took a short cut, following a direct route instead of some switch backs, but we lost time with a long lunch and recovery spell. We finally made it past the switch backs and then went cross-country through some underbrush to the mountain's saddle. At this point it was about 3:45 and we were concerned about night fall (regularly about 6:30), but we decided to push on. I used my trekking poles to mark the sand with arrows and stacked rocks, all meant to aid our descent. As we made it from the saddle to the actual summit pyramid, we found the climb increasingly difficult. We were on lots of harsh grade three and even some grade four for very short spells. Belang was hesitant at first, but she quickly grew to like the scrambling. At one point we were on the Eastern ridge, looking straight down a 200-300 m drop. We made our way aside from the ridge, not wanting the unnecessary exposure. While we bumped into two climbers at about 4:05 who said we were only an hour from the summit, by 4:30 we decided we had to turn back. The clouds were thickening, and we thought we had heard thunder. Not wanting to push our luck, we reached the second and last false summit (maybe 50 m below actual summit and 500 m horizontally away) before we turned back. The moment we started back, however, it began hailing. For most of the hail, it was very tiny stuff, only as large as the 'o' in this font. We worked our way down, luckly having no trouble following our markers out back. However, after about 20 min, as we got lower the hail turned to rain. We all had our hard shells on, but it was pretty rough going. After we got off the cross-country trail back to the road, we found the roads nothing more then a giant muddy slip and slide. At about 6:30 it finally grew too dark and we had to all put on our headlamps (I cannot stress enough how lucky we were to all have brought them, even though we all thought we'd be done by 4 or 5). We got back to the haciendo at 7:30 pm, 9 hours after our start and just caked in mud.

Though we were frustrated with our failure to summit, we were proud of our effort. We tried hard and failed for no fault of our own. Indeed, we could have pushed on for the summit, only 30 minutes away, but with the way the weather went, it could have been an even more dangerous descent. As is, we stripped at the haciendo, took warm showers (it never felt so good to put on clean, dry clothes), and had an AMAZING dinner. The haciendo served us a fixed menu, offering a course of cheese empanadas, a cauliflower/carrot soup with fried egg pieces (a real highlight), a selection of beef, pork, or chicken all served with mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli (they made me a cheese omelet in place of the meats), and then some sort of bread cake. All in all, the best meal I've had in a long, long time. We then passed out!

After another great meal at the haciendo, we got a ride back to Quito. Before we left though, I found a snake in my boot! Not really though, it was just a scorpian in my clothes!

Rest and recovery is on the menu today, and maybe another stab by myself at Pinincha Rucu tomorrow?