West Temple May 19

After a couple days of pretty chill sightseeing and mineral collecting, Ryan and I were looking to go out with a bang. Throwing out ideas earlier, I thought it could be neat to do some scrambling route up some backcountry buttes in Zion or attempt to find a way to the top of Kolob Arch. In looking, I came across a couple beta sites' accounts of ascending West Temple, the signature capped peak visible from miles and miles around, forming Zion NP's tallest peak at 7810'. From every vantage it looked formidable, if completely unscalable. For all the adventures I have had in Zion it sounded like it would be something different. I was pretty intimidated by the descriptions including some challenging route finding, hours of exposure, sketchy obstacles, and a legitimately exposed lead climbing crux. Throw in a 9.5 mile round trip and a 4000' elevation gain, and it clearly would add up to a big day we would need an early start for. I was prepared to consider lead climbing and we packed gear appropriately, but thankfully Ryan and I both approached the ascent with the same caution and mentality: if we didn't do it or decided it was too much it was not a big deal to turn around. The summary description I developed for it in my mind was that it was the adult-version of Angel's Landing, and I think that is exactly what it was. 

West Temple on approach to Zion's west side

One of the best parts about this hike was that we parked at a brand new trailhead between Rockville and Springdale, thus completely sparing ourselves the cesspool that Springdale and the southern park entrance have become. We set off from the truck a little after 7:30a, carrying all the water we thought we might need for the day. We started up the immaculately paved Anasazi Way, spotting a nice petrified log embedded in the roadcut. We then followed the Chinle Trail along the rim of a cliff to skirt around the $1.5M vacation homes, then up a wash and under the road bridge. From here it was mostly beelining up the scrub-covered alluvial surfaces and then ascending faint trails along several ridges and benches. We made pretty good time on the way up, gaining the second bench in about an hour, where we ditched our jackets for the return.

Gain the low notch at center then follow the ridge to the right to the red-capped peak...

We cross-countried across the second bench following a faint trail and our noses to gain the final hanging debris chutes leading us up to the bedrock cliff faces. We knew the distinctive notch in the ridgeline was our initial goal, but even this look difficult to get to, seemingly armored by cliffs. Sure enough we found a series of ascending ledges that led us up to the notch. I recall feeling a little uneasy at some of the exposure on the way but this was nothing compared to what would follow. We gained the shade of the notch at 10:30a, and used the scenic spot to catch up on some water and a snack. Now it would just be the simple matter of following the ridgeline...

Almost immediately I went the wrong way and found myself at a deadend staring down 600 ft+ of sheer exposure. Climbing out of the notch onto the ridge, we first got a closeup view of Peak 7085, which ominously stood in our way. Cautiously, Ryan and I worked our way up and along the ridge, sometimes staying on the meter-wide crest of it with dropoffs on both sides, other times having to skirt around one side or the other. At one point we had to shimmy through a narrow slot, at many others we had to tackle exposed lower fifth class climbs to continue. It took considerable effort to reach the summit of Peak 7085; from here the view forward was somehow even worse. I was thoroughly intimidated looking for a way off this peak and handed over route leading to Ryan for a bit. Honestly I was pretty close to having enough along this stretch and fought the desire to turn around. For nearly this entire 0.5 mile long ridgeline there was no mental or physical rest. Each obstacle suckered you into a slightly harder or scarier next obstacle, and then a next, and then a next. Since we would have to return the same way the burden was not lessened.

On approach to formidable Peak 7085

Looking forward from Peak 7085 towards Temple Butte

On the backside of Peak 7085 there was a particularly exposed downclimb that relied on climbing down a tree and fully trusting its weather-torn branches. The view here was one of the most dramatic of the entire route (frontispiece); real life felt vertically exaggerated! A couple more tricky climbs Ryan and I did not like and the ridge flattened and widened for a mere 300ft length, an easy snack break. The route ahead looked terrible but the views around us were spectacular at least. Despite all the little cars trafficking their way through Springdale only 1.5 miles away, we felt thoroughly isolated. Continuing obstacle by obstacle, we approached the crux section that had an exposed face climb, a sloping traverse into a loose chimney system, and then a grungy slot to ascend. The traverse was hands down Ryan's least favorite part. A little more route finding found us at a prominent juniper on a ledge, just below the final rock climbing cap to gain the top of the main cliff. We left some extra food/water/gear here and collapsed the remainder into one backpack for the rest of the ascent. One more short climb brought us to the base of the rock climb. We geared up, it was my turn to lead. Looking up I was happy to see that it was much better protected than the route descriptions had led on. I could anchor off a bush, then clip into three bolts in series, to then reach a two bolt belay station. Thankfully we had planned well and I had all the gear I needed for this and then some. Along the route I had gained a lot of confidence in the sticky rubber of my 5.10 guide tennies, such that I did not even bother switching into the rock climbing shoes I had brought just for this occasion. I could not recall the last time I had lead climbed and shot up the route as quickly as I could before I psyched myself out. With relief, what was advertised as a 5.8 climb felt more like 5.6 to me. I made quick work of it and then belayed Ryan up. We made it to the top of the Navajo Sandstone (1:30p) with only a scrub stroll to continue. We were stoked other than the return ahead of us.

Looking up at the crux lead climb

Dropping climbing gear, we crossed the hanging garden of scrubby chapparal to the red cap of the Temple Cap Formation. A trail on the one obvious scree slope led us to the top. Not feeling completely pressed for time, we ventured through the thick scrub over to the unceremonious high point of the flat summit (2p), then enjoyed some clifftop views looking west, north, and east before taking a break at the cell tower at the southern rim. Another snack in the shade here. We signed the register at the top of the scree slope- certainly a more popular ascent than its online presence would suggest, averaging perhaps an ascent per week. Some crazy guy marked that it was his seventeenth ascent- I remember thinking I was sure I would be content with completing the one. We entered a comment along the lines of "we made it, now what!?", which pretty well summed up our thoughts on the coming descent.

The unceremonious true summit

Looking west

Looking back the way we came with Peak 7085 and the notch

We were back at the top of the climb at 3:30p and put our harnesses on for the rappels back down. The first one was straightforward, then the downclimb back to my pack. Instead of returning down the loose chimney, traverse, and face climb, we had anchors that would allow us to do two 50ft rappels down the chimney instead. This still took some time but was comparable more comfortable and lower stress than our ascent. There were several obstacles weighing heavily on our mind as we worried about the reverse versions of our ascents. Climbing back up the tree was not so bad and neither was a different climb that had us worried on the ascent. The climb that Ryan was most worried about was near the notch. I thought this would be easy to downclimb but upon approaching the top I had to agree it looked kind of scary. We opted to rig a nearby tree for one more rappel, which was a good decision. Once down we took off our gear and breathed a huge sigh of relief. A short jaunt to the notch, the scaries were behind us and it would just be several more miles of travel back. 

Final view from the notch

It was still a lengthy hike back to the truck but largely straightforward, following some different trails and the wash lower down instead of going through the scrub. My feet were starting to feel pretty raw so I opted to take the road instead of the trail like Ryan; they both took essentially the same amount of time. We made it back a little before 8p. Ryan had the amazing forethought of packing us some cold beers, which were much enjoyed on the tailgate. It was a thoroughly satisfying day and an impressively intricate route that we had just completed. It left an impression on both of us.

The following day we chilled around Ryan's place. I cleaned and sorted rocks, we chatted about upcoming trips, and in the evening we rode his ATVs (my first time on one) up the hillside behind his house, stopping to check out petroglyphs, views, and fossils. I had to admit ATVs are way less annoying when you are on them. The week was really a nice getaway for me and a nice catch-up. Happily the drive home in my overloaded Prius went smoothly despite my concern. My tally of rock collecting was 657 lbs (343 lbs magnetite/apatite, 280 lbs jasper/agate, and 34 lbs selenite)!!! Photos of me by Ryan. Big thanks to Ryan for hospitality and driving. 

Wonderland of Rock by Moonlight Aug 25-26

My dream for a full "Floor is Lava" traverse of Joshua Tree's Wonderland of Rocks remains a unobtained goal. Being quite hot this time of year, the thought occurred to me to try an evening traverse under a full moon. With a date set I recruited Jimmy who I thought would be up for it, and he recruited two more graduate students to join us. My thinking was we could start at 7pm and be done around 11pm, which in hindsight was a little unrealistic despite one of the group not being completely up to the challenge. Jimmy and I set our shuttle at Indian Cove and then drove into Barker Dam where we met Stephen and Haley at 6:30pm. I was a little worried when I realized they had no idea what they would be in for, and more still when we started off across the rocks and I recognized their pace. They were in good cheer though and so we kept on despite the early signs. Pretty early on someone's pants turned into posteriorless chaps, an amusing throwback for me to my first Wonderland traverse.

We had a couple deadends at the start which slowed progress but eventually reached a nice slickrock area where we could make good progress, enjoy the setting sun, and simultaneously, the rising sun. I was in my element with some of the more scrambly sections and probably could have made 2.5 times the progress of the rest of the group. The first few wash crossings were straightforward and manageable at the locations I suspected. At the junctions of two major washes we had to make six separate crossings which slowed us down considerably. The worst of them required me jumping in the middle of a bush and then jumping across the rock. Legality is debatable I suppose but the landscape was not altered and my foot did not touch the wash. It seemed the desert recently had a solid down pour: footprintless washes, fresh fluvial features, moist sand, patches of water, and the worst sign of all, mosquitoes in abundance.

Through the major wash junction, I decided to take a chance on an alternate saddle, which ended up being very tricky and ending at a blind slot. This seemed like the obvious place (and time) to abandon the floor is lava mentality. In 2.5 hours we made it about 1.5 miles! From here on we took the path of least resistance, following washes and intrusive contacts in a race for Indian Cove. We crossed over to the easternmost major wash and followed it north. Intervals were wide and sandy allowing us to turn off headlamps and travel by moonlight. We bypassed the first scrambly breakdown section, then had two more to navigate for distances of about 500 ft. The further down the wash we went the more standing pools of water we saw, and the more happy frogs. It was quite late by the time we reached The Helmet rock formation, I made sense of the junction of washes, and we set on down the steep and mysterious gut for Rattlesnake Canyon. Progress continued very slowly, giving me time to explore ahead and find three nice sections of talus cave we could drop into.

After what seemed like ages we dropped into Rattlesnake Canyon and then had the comparatively easy task of hiking down it to the trailhead. Despite the ridiculous hour, Jimmy and I had a solid run back to the car to spare the other two the last bit of effort. 2:30am we finished! We drove out, went desperately in search of a 24hr convenience store to stock up on cold Gatorade, then drove back to Barker Dam to close the loop. We drove through the entirety of the Hidden Valley campground- completely full! Jimmy and I parted with Stephen and Haley and drove all the way back to Indian Cove. It was 5am by the time I got to sleep in my car (to avoid the brutal mosquitoes), and 7:45am when the heat of the sun cruelly made me wake up and abandon the car! Jimmy and I climbed three  adjacent routes rather quickly (nice for me as I can't remember the last time I've been climbing outside) before the sun's heat chased us into our cars' AC, and back home for a nap in a bed. The Floor Is Lava Traverse remains an enticing possibility. I've only cracked the first 1.5 miles of six and am left wondering how big of a project this is. Perhaps it would be best if I attempted sections of the traverse before stringing the whole thing together to eliminate time wasted on deadends. What is clear is that it would make and incredible journey and a remarkable full body marathon. Thanks to the others for joining.

Mākaha Canyon May 23

Near the start of the year when I was trying to plan some adventure to give me something to look forward to I started looking into Kauai. If I did it right it could be easy, cheap ($3 per night camping), and have some great opportunities for adventures. As I started to piece together the ideas of a packraft/hiking Nā Pali trip and a Waimea packraft trip I started to realize the potential for great canyon trips. If the weather was very rainy we would packraft, if the weather was somewhat dry we would go canyoning! Whatever it threw at us we'd be ready to respond with the best adventure possible. The more I researched online the more helicopter tourist photos turned up great looking canyons but I was surprised at the relative lack of canyon descents I could find described. For the wettest and oldest of the main Hawaiian island there seemed to be little exploration and lots of untouched potential. Imagery in Google Earth was typically of poor quality and often obscured by clouds or shadows.

I then had the thought to see if there was any high resolution topographic data available. Lucky for me there was reasonable coverage of high resolution airborne lidar data over some of the canyon areas I was interested in. Lidar is a laser ranging technique that collects hundreds of thousands of accurate data points per second, and importantly, can image the ground in deep canyons and beneath vegetation. Instantly I had an inside view into some of the deepest and narrowest canyons in Kauai, and knew the exact number, location, and height of each waterfall to 10cm accuracy! Academic canyoning! It felt like cheating and certainly took some of the mystery out of the canyons, but it also allowed me to be prepared and confident to take some of them on. I had grand plans to tackle some of the moderate wet canyons in the Waimea area but this was not to be between the weather, being sick, and limited in the number of days we had. Several canyons needed on-the-ground scouting to be sure that appropriate escape routes could be found, the difference between one or two day canyon descents. So after completing our Nā Pali adventure the lowest risk canyon route I was interested in seemed to be Mākaha on the west side of the island. It would likely be a dry canyon (it was) but should have some excellent rappels and some of the best narrows on the island. The all important escape route seemed to have previously been done by a keen hiker accessing nearby Miloli'i and I was able to give this route a quick scout while on the Nā Pali a few days earlier.

Top: Example of aerial imagery available, leaving canyon features a mystery.

Bottom: Lidar derived imagery revealing the exact height and location of every feature. 

I awoke from a good night's sleep in the cool 3500ft air and rallied to get gear organized despite the nasty cold I had developed at the end of the Nā Pali trip and subsequently feeling under the weather. Sara dropped Jeff and I off along the Mākaha Ridge Road and we plowed on through the foliage. The terrain was steep and loose but the forest was forgiving initially. At a few points we had to veer around or carefully through some thorny plants, and at another we had to do a grass clinging bypass around a bramble-coated waterfall. All in all the approach was forgiving and it took less than 30 minutes to hit the bottom of Mākaha and another 15 minutes or so to reach our first series of downclimbs and our first view of the Pacific Ocean far below.

        At the lip of the first downclimb

Below the downclimbs the canyon narrowed to where we could nearly touch both walls at the same time. Although the creek was dry, ferns coated the vibrant green walls. Shortly we reached the first rappel of about 13m. There were a few ok anchor options but after a few minutes of digging we revealed the perfect boulder choke pinch- bomber and with an easy pull.

        At the start of the first narrows

The narrows maintained their width but grew deeper with each step down the canyon. Although a nice flowing creek would have greatly improved the canyon, the narrows were quite spectacular anyway. A short downclimb brought us to the monster two-stage rappel, right on cue. A 17m drop to a filled hanging pothole, then another 69m drop to an enormous cavernous chamber. Here good anchor options were less obvious so we spent nearly twenty minutes digging out an excellent pinch between two boulders. This was a fantastic drop, especially the second stage into the dry plunge room below. As I waited for Jeff to descend, graceful white-tailed tropicbirds circled above the chamber, their calls casting slight echoes.

Once down the large rappel the canyon changed: wider but now considerably deeper. The narrows continued unabated nearly a half mile to the final 18m rappel of the canyon. Each twist and turn revealed a new corridor of narrows, each one seemingly better than the last. We were deep in this canyon and I was comforted the lidar data constrained what unknowns we might encounter. Jeff went nuts with his GoPro and I with my camera. We saw two different owls hiding in the shadows of boulders in this canyon. We constructed a deadman anchor for the final rapppel.

More wonderful narrows! This would certainly be a major tourist attraction for the island if it was more accessible. We continued boulder hopping our way down, eventually picking up whiffs of the approaching sea air. Beneath the Pacific Missile Range Facility we uncovered someone's dirty little secret. We saw over fifty golf balls spread all around the wash immediately below. Clearly some bored employee thought it a great thing to drive balls into what he must have imagined was a bottomless and unvisited place.

In the last thousand feet of the canyon before the ocean the canyon changed style yet again. A series of bedrock downclimbs were the last obstacles to discourage upstream visitors. I suggested Jeff should climb a rock spire at the center of the canyon (with dry waterfalls either side) and then immediately regretted it as I stressfully watched him climb the exposed choss. It made for a great photo at least.

Once at the shore our adventure was far from over. We had a one mile boulder hopping walk along the beach to reach Miloli'i where we could hopefully make our planned escape. A wonderful surprise was five sea turtles sunning themselves and napping on a small section of sandy beach. They were so unexpected Jeff walked right past the first turtle within a couple feet before he recognized the rocks in front of him were alive! They looked like they were living the life and were completely unbothered by us walking past.

Once at the mouth of Miloli'i we followed the stream up a short quarter-mile to the base of our escape route. After scouting from the north side of the creek (the route looked very tricky but we wanted to believe there was a route through it!), we recovered at the stream. Without the lidar data and photos/descriptions from a keen hiker that had done the route I probably would not have considered it a comfortable possibility. We snacked, replenished water, and soaked our feet before starting up the steep scree slope that would lead to our chossy route.

        Our escape route. A route runs through it, but where?

My cold was starting to catch up to me and I struggled to keep up with Jeff who was having a great time picking a route through. It really was an excellent route overall- fantastic views and wonderful Grand Canyon style cliff band route finding. I did manage to let loose two large boulders, one near the bottom and the other right near the top of the climb. The middle section of the route was definitely the best, with some fun, slightly exposed, climbing. As I anticipated, the top tropically weathered 30m or so of the cliff were by far the lousiest, chossiest rock. I was also at my lousiest at this stage, but powered through and was thrilled to drop my pack, drink some water, take in the sights, and enjoy the sea breeze.  Jeff and I both found the route very satisfying and it gave us ideas that there must be some other exciting scrambling routes in the Nā Pali/Waimea area.

        Looking up Miloli'i

All that was left was the simple matter of walking the 4WD road up until we ran into Sara, or at least it would have been simple if I wasn't totally trashed from sickness and heat. I even had to stop and sit down for a while as going on seemed like too much. Slowly, eventually, I walked the two miles and 800 vertical feet to our parked car. We returned to Camp Sloggett where I had a well-deserved shower beer and crashed. Although this would end up being the only canyon we would have the time to fit in and I wished I got more use out of the 600ft of rope I brought, it was still a pleasant and worthwhile first descent that wetted my appetite for a future Kauai canyon trip. Thanks to Sara for providing the drop off and pickup.