The south face of Arrowhead in May 2008. Deborah takes the obvious vertical snow couloir. Photo by Greg Sievers

Climbers Scotty Nelson and Gil Weiss have discovered (or maybe rediscovered) a great-looking moderate mixed route in Rocky Mountain National Park that might take pressure off overcrowded climbs like Dream Weaver or Martha. The line, which they called Deborah, splits the south face of Arrowhead above the high bench to the west of Black Lake in Glacier Gorge, with almost 1,000 feet of steep snow and short mixed steps (M3/4); some ice might form in the spring. At the top, two exits give a hard or easy finish, and Arrowhead’s superb 12,642-foot summit is just a few yards away. Descend by following the ridge west toward McHenrys and look for rappel anchors near the saddle; rappel to the south. This route may have been climbed before, but no previous winter ascent has been reported. It’s likely in good mixed condition from January through early May.

Nelson and Weiss climbed the route in mid-March as the middle leg of a very long day in which they climbed the West Gully ice route above Black Lake (with a nearly disastrous slip), then Arrowhead, and then continued up the northeast ridge of McHenrys. They named the Arrowhead route after Weiss’ mother, Deborah, who recently died from melanoma. Weiss has written a touching essay about his mother’s death and this climb at the excellent Pullharder blog.

Mark Anderson just below the boulder-problem crux of Carnage (5.13d). Photo by Kate Anderson

Colorado’s Shelf Road , a network of vertical limestone cliffs near Cañon City best known for sunny moderates, has a new 5.13d pitch and may soon get its first 5.14. On Sunday, March 7, Mark Anderson redpointed a striking, super-technical arête at Cactus Cliff that was bolted in the early 1990s but apparently never free-climbed. Listed in the guidebook as Wild Virus, the newly redpointed climb has been renamed Carnage (5.13d).

Carnage ascends 5.11 ground to a big rest ledge, followed by sustained 5.12 climbing up the prow, with the desperate crux coming below the eighth bolt in the form of an “ultra-subtle V10-ish boulder problem [that] slaps directly up the arête.” Anderson, an engineer who lives in Morrison, spent four days working on the route and sent on his ninth attempt.

At Mountain Project, Josh Janes, one of Anderson’s partners, wrote, “After two frustrating burns on the fourth day of working the route, Mark decided to throw in the towel for the day and give his sore bicep a week of rest, despite having unlocked subtle new beta for the crux. Later in the day, however, it occurred to him that the moves that tended to tweak his arm came after the crux, and it wouldn’t hurt to climb up to that point one more time to reinforce the new beta…. Without any expectation of sending, he crushed the crux sequence and then persevered though the upper section for the FFA—an inspired performance!”

Anderson finishing up Carnage's crux. Photo by Kate Anderson

A potentially even harder route is in the works. According to Anderson, Ben Schmitt has been projecting a bulge on the wall between Carnage and Cure for the Common Crimp that is said to be at least 5.13+. “Ben’s been working it for a few weeks, and he’s one-hanged it a bunch, so he could send any day now,” Anderson said.

“I had been convinced that Shelf was climbed out, but now I’m starting to see the crag with new eyes,” Anderson added. “I think there’s still a lot of potential, especially for harder routes, though they may not be of a style that’s fashionable these days.”

Jason Haas entering the crux of Comprometido (5.14a). Photo by Ben Schneider

Jason Haas, who’s working on a new guidebook to South Platte rock climbs, has just redpointed what’s likely the Platte’s hardest pitch, a roof seam that’s protected with removable pro and might be 5.14a. The new route, Comprometido, took about a year and a half to complete. Here, Haas tells the story.

While researching routes for the upcoming South Platte guidebook through Fixed Pin Publishing, I came across an old aid climb simply named A3 Route on Dome Rock, a few miles from the Cathedral Spires. The formation is similar to a mushroom, with a small stalk on the bottom leading up to a massively imposing roof that actually dips down at the lip, like a crashing wave, followed by a long slab to the summit. Working the route in summer was sketchy due to the deep, pushy river, which would dump you out 100 feet downstream from where you started, making you swim it with dry bags. The winter was heinous—not only was the river scary to cross when it was partly frozen, but also the rock faces north so it was an icebox. Fall was best, when the water was low enough to wade across at about thigh height.

Rob Pizem and I worked on the climb pretty solidly the first winter, and then on and off until this winter, when I started to get closer to sticking the crux move. I would sneak out there with various partners besides just Piz almost daily, because I knew that I needed 10 attempts for every one of his. The rivalry was extremely friendly, but it really fueled me to keep going when I thought the climb was too far over my head. Eventually I got close enough to sending that Piz backed off and let me have the line, which I am truly humbled by. I also am forever indebted to my fiancée, Erin Brassil, for going up there countless times with me and being willing to jug up to the hanging belay atop the first pitch and get slammed repeatedly into the anchor as I worked the moves.

The line of Compremetido (three pitches) on Dome Rock. Photo by Jason Haas

The route starts with a left-trending crack and unprotected slab (5.8 R/X) to a hanging belay at a bolted anchor directly underneath the roof. From here, the second pitch traverses out the underbelly of the roof for 30 feet of horizontal climbing to that downward lip. It’s hard 5.12 or easy 5.13 jamming to get off the belay, and then there’s a V10 cross into a mono finger-lock, followed by an all-out dynamic campus/throw to a flat undercling. Hard compression leads to a hand-jam rest, then some really funky, unique cross-over jams get you to the lip. I updated the anchors at the start and end of this pitch with modern hardware, but no new bolts were added to the climb. I combined the last two pitches up the slab (5.9 X) as one 70-meter pitch, clipping a few rotting and bent quarter-inchers. These bolts were not updated (sorry!).

In terms of gear on the crux pitch, it was preplaced. I had to beat this route into submission, and one of the ways for me to do it was with preplaced gear. More than that, though, the gear fits like a jigsaw piece—the crux piece was an equalized black and blue Alien, each with only had three lobes engaged. If they pulled, you’d hit the slab below. I could have (and had at various attempts) placed all the other pieces on the pitch, but felt I had already “tainted” it with the preplaced Aliens, so why bother with the others?

On Saturday, February 6, I worked out on my hangboard at home in the morning, which was my training for the route: campus off the hangboard, cross into a mono climbing hold screwed into the roof of my back porch, stab at the support beam rafter. I did that for a while, and then we drove down to the Platte, me squeezing one of those rubber donut things to keep my hands warm. I went to the summit and rapped the 300 feet back to the base, brushing all the snow off the slab pitches. I then led the whole thing to the top on the first burn of the day—but like attempt number one million.

Crossing the North Fork of the South Platte River. Photo by Ben Schneider

Piz is a better person at grading a route like this, and he called it 5.14a, so I’m going with that. The hardest routes I’ve done (all cracks) topped out at 5.13c, so I don’t really know, except I’m absolutely certain this route is way harder than those. It’s harder than Sphinx Crack, so it’s currently the hardest thing in the Platte, for sure. At the end of the day, I couldn’t care less how hard it is. I had a ton of fun working it with a good friend and going through the experience of going to the brink of my ability level and then pushing through to a whole new world of possibilities. I realize that sounds cliché, but, man, my eyes are open now. There are 5.13 and 5.14 cracks all over the Front Range just waiting to get done.

I’m naming the route Comprometido, which means committed. The drive to do this route reminds me of trying to put up new routes on big peaks in Peru (only this time without the broken leg and giardia). And that river was super-sketchy: In summer you fight the rapids and have to swim; in the fall the water is mind-numbingly cold, and talking a partner into stripping down to skivvies and wading across isn’t easy; and in the winter the ice can be really scary to cross. The day I sent the route we tied into ropes and crossed in snowshoes to displace our weight. Spring is out because the water is to high and cold, and the rock is cold to boot. Also, the route is not near any warm-up climbs, a gas station, cell-service, you name it. You commit your whole day by going to this thing, even though it’s only 300 yards from the road. Lastly, getting a partner to go suffer at a freezing hanging belay, let alone cross the river, really took some faith on my friends’ part. They were committed to me and the project even when I lost faith in sending, and the kept me going when I didn’t want to anymore.

The new route Dragons Tongue, left of Spiral Staircase. Courtesy of Rob Ginieczki

Let’s say you’d like to try some sport-mixed routes, but you aren’t into fruit boots and cranking figure-nines. Until recently, your options have been limited at East Vail, the mecca of modern mixed climbing. But this season, several new climbs have been added to the Firehouse West and Spiral Staircase areas, and at M6 to M7 these should be very attractive to experienced ice climbers looking to dabble in dry tooling.

Local climbers Brad Grohusky and Rob “Griz” Ginieczki have spearheaded the latest action. (Griz, by the way, operates a very effective, low-cost, mail-in screw sharpening service.)

Three new sport-mixed routes ascend the cliffs to the right of Lowe Gravity, Firehouse West. Courtesy of Rob Ginieczki

Many of these climbs have been posted at Mountain Project, but the locations are a bit confusing and the printed guidebooks are now way out of date. To sort out the new and old climbs, we’ve created a sequential list of all the routes in both areas. Updates? Corrections? Let us know…

Firehouse West
(left to right)
West Corner (WI3+ M4, trad, aka Leftmost of Left of Right)
West Slab (WI3+)
Meat Puppets (WI5 M7+, prow to curtain)
Lowe Gravity (WI4, aka Right of Right)
Eastern Xpansion (NEW, WI4+ M6+)
Rehab (NEW, M6+)
Modus Operandi (NEW, M7-)
Silver-Tongued Devil (WI5+ M6)
Unknown Trad (M6+, 150m west of other routes)

The very cool-looking unknown trad route, right of Firehouse West. Photo by Rob Ginieczki

Spiral Staircase Area
(right to left)
Secret Probation (WI5 M6-7)
Spiral Staircase (WI3-4)
Stemcicle (WI5 M7)
Log Route (WI3-4 M4-5)
Slabutt (WI3)
IMAPNISS (WI4+ M5)
Unnamed Verglas (WI4)
Tourettes (WI4- M6)
Dragons Tongue (NEW, WI5+ M7)
8mm (M7)
Menora (5.8+ WI4 M4-5)

Be aware that parking continues to be tricky in East Vail. For Firehouse, you must now park at one of the standard areas for the Rigid Designator area and walk east through town, or leave the car at Bighorn Park and walk west.

Chris Sheridan approaching the ominous first chockstone. Photo by Andy Grauch

On Saturday, Andy Grauch and Chris Sheridan completed a wild line on the south face of Mt. Otis in Rocky Mountain National Park—almost certainly a new route. Chockstones of Unusual Size (C.O.U.S.) is a three-pitch route (plus snow slogging) that surmounts two stupendous blocks by tricky dry tooling: III M6/7. We asked Andy Grauch to write up a first-person account of this crazy-looking climb:

“Chockstones of unusual size? I don’t think they exist….”

A few years ago, Eli Helmuth at Climbing Life Guides mentioned a surprising fact in one of his regular posts about Rocky Mountain National Park snow and ice conditions: The south side of Mt. Otis had no recorded winter routes. After learning this, Chris Sheridan and I quickly developed a fascination with the gullies around Wham and Zowie spires. In 2008, he and I climbed the improbable-looking Brain Freeze to the west of Zowie. In 2009, Chris climbed the more moderate Wham Couloir. With an increasingly rare two days off and a dubious weather forecast, we decided it was a perfect time to check out the third of these gullies: the one right up the middle, splitting Wham and Zowie. In pictures from previous trips, it looked easy enough except for big, troubling chockstones at the start and finish.

After a leisurely 6:15 a.m. start, a couple of hours skinning along well-packed trails delivered us to the snowfield below the route. From down in the trees, the chockstone guarding the start looked insurmountable. Chris mentioned that ice occasionally forms on the right side of the gully, allowing access to the easy snow climbing above. As we began to kick steps up to a massive, dark cave, we couldn’t see any ice, but I kept hoping a pillar would appear. It didn’t.

Sheridan leading the first chockstone pitch. Photo by Andy Grauch

Staring at the giant chockstone 30 feet up, a route looked unlikely; the walls of the cave were vertical to overhanging and too far apart for stemming. Shuffling around in the snow, we started to see possibilities: edges, flakes, thin cracks, potential gear here and there. With the standard RMNP motto of “It doesn’t have to be in to be in,” Chris ventured up the vertical wall on the right side of the cave. Dicey pro, fantastic steep climbing up thin corners, and a few hangs to warm numb fingers got Chris to the lip of the chockstone. A committing hook move led to some good ice, thick enough for a 10cm screw, and ultimately the easy snow above the chockstone. With a 70m rope, we had just enough extra cord for Chris to lower his end and haul the packs. In late winter, an ice pillar often forms here that might allow you to bypass much of the dry tooling on this pitch.

About 400 feet of step kicking and trenching brought us to the cave below the second chockstone. The rock immediately below it looked relatively smooth and clean, without much chance of climbing. But at the back of the cave, we again saw a possible line: Chimney up, spin around to get good feet, a dark slot that might take a cam, an exit through a hole between the wall and the chockstone.

Grauch starts the wild but moderate traverse under the second chockstone. Photo by Chris Sheridan

Since there was no way to climb with a pack, I tied into the middle of the rope, clipping one side into pro as I went so I could haul with the other. I set off without any real confidence that I would be able to exit the cave. To my surprise, edges kept appearing for my front points, and blocks wedged overhead provided more than ample protection. Without too much difficulty, I was able to chimney horizontally below the roof. Yelling with the fun and amazement of it, I hooked and manteled my way out of the hole and onto the snow below yet another large chockstone.

Chris quickly climbed the next pitch, torquing tools in an enjoyable crack around a refrigerator-size chockstone that seemed small compared to the monsters below. Another hundred feet of Styrofoam snow brought us to the east ridge of Otis an hour before dark.

Despite the late hour and heavy snowfall, the descent went smoothly: only a few rappels in the dark and the usual of amount of slipping over talus. A victory shot of bad Tequila warmed us up for the ski out.

See Mountain Project for pitch grades, gear list, etc.

Steve Bremner on a winter solstice run.

Steve Bremner from Manitou Springs likely set the speed record for the winter ascent of Pikes Peak on January 12, running up the 14,115-foot peak in 3:21:55, from the Barr Trailhead to the summit. Bremner ran down the cog railway to Mountain View, traversed to Barr Camp, and then continued down the Barr Trail, for a round-trip time of 5:35:25, also likely a winter record.

Above the A-Frame on the Barr Trail, near treeline, Bremner followed “winter rules” for his route to the summit, taking the most direct and ice-free line he could find. His distance for the ascent was 9.9 miles (about 7,850 vertical feet), and 21.8 miles for the round trip. The previous fastest known time for a winter ascent was 4:02.

Upper east face. Bremner ran up just right of the prominent snow streak. Photo by Rick Hessek

“I have had the attempt in mind since last winter,” Bremner, 54, said in an email. “I went up in 4:18 last March, then afterwards found out the record for winter was only 4:02, [which] I knew I could beat. My fastest summer ascent was in the Pikes Peak Ascent race of 1999, [starting at] Memorial Park in Manitou Springs: 2:49.”

After scouting the trail to the A-Frame on January 10, Bremner ran during a sunny, warm, and wind-free window two days later. He carried a CamelBak, two bars, two gels, a cell phone, and a few extra clothes (but didn’t need them), and he wore Yaktrax above the A-Frame.

Ryan Bogus and Eli Helmuth climbed a wild-looking mixed pitch through the big roof left of Hidden Falls in Wild Basin (Rocky Mountain National Park). The two attempted the route on December 16 (in the video), and then returned on December 21 and led it cleanly with a few preplaced cams and a preplaced screw. “Firhang” awaits a traditional lead, which Helmuth hopes to complete soon.

“The route is all trad protected, somewhere in the M8 range, and feels like a boulder problem after stepping out of the top of a tree…pretty fun stuff,” Helmuth said. If the tree weren’t there, he added, it would be “one of the more amazing (and much harder) all-trad mixed lines in RMNP. In the meantime, it is a ‘tree assisted’ ascent. It could probably be climbed without ice as the crack is good enough to the top and with solid gear.”

Looking up Road Less Warren. Courtesy of Kevin Gillest

Meanwhile, on Mt. Warren, below the Mt. Evans road, Kevin Gillest and Eric Lashinsky climbed Road Less Warren (WI 4-5 M5), a steep 100-foot pitch of water ice with a mixed exit, left of the finish of The Road. The route likely isn’t worth the 12-mile round-trip hike on its own, but Gillest said it makes a good finish to either The Road or Concrete Shoes.

Gillest and Lashinsky did the latter on December 20 before climbing Road Less Warren and said Concrete Shoes had sublimated substantially since the first ascent but (somewhat surprisingly) was still climbable and “well worth the walk.”

See more photos and a route description at Mountain Project.

Rob Gonzalez-Pita starting the second pitch of Concrete Shoes. Photo by Greg Mionske

By Greg Mionske

My cell phone rips out a startling harmony and stirs me from my slumber. I flip open the nagging device. Rob Gonzalez-Pita is on the other end with the dangerous question.

“You still wanna go?”

I hesitate, momentarily thinking of what a reply of “no” would yield: at least five more hours of sleep in a warm bed and filling meals throughout the day, interlaced with steaming cups of black coffee. It all seems so sweet.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

Coffee, orange juice, and an egg scramble later, Rob and I head off toward Mt. Evans, hoping to climb The Road (WI3 M4), a recently established route that cuts through the left side of a rock buttress just above Chicago Lake.

Reluctant to leave the warmth of Rob’s truck at the Echo Lake trailhead, we boot up as if we had never put shoes on before and then continue to fine-tune things that need not be fine-tuned. At last, at 6:15 a.m., we lock the truck doors and skirt around Echo Lake on our way to the Chicago Creek Trail. For the first half-mile or so, we simply enjoy the downhill grade. Banter about our upcoming trip to Chile is muffled by the crunch of snow under our boots.

The Road (yellow line) and Concrete Shoes Won't Help Ya in da River (red), above Chicago Lake. Photo by Greg Mionske

After a couple of hours of walking, we are standing by the frozen glimmers of Chicago Lake, looking up a snow-covered hill to a rock buttress that’s steep and clean in the center. The ice on The Road looks to be nearing the end of its life cycle. Luckily, a rope length to the right, there’s a beautiful-looking line with numerous icefalls connected by steep mixed sections. After some convincing, Rob agrees that it would be pretty cool to tick a first ascent in the mountains, and we agree to try.

As we approach the lower slabs, the route’s angle eases, and what appeared to be steep and difficult from afar now looks manageable and fun. We enter the main corner system unroped, bypassing low-angle smears for a steeper section 10 meters higher.

Nearing the end of the first pitch. Photo by Greg Mionske

I delicately pick my way across this smear, shouldering tools for style points at every opportunity. After placing a short screw, I pull a bulge into a small alcove, and then mantel out sans tools. Another short icefall brings me to tough mixed section, where I implement the good ol’ stein pull—whether or not it was necessary, it was still cool—and then stretch our 70-meter rope to a belay on a large terrace.

We move the belay right to start the second pitch. Rob climbs moderately steep, black granite, dotted with marginal pick placements. The moves are excellent and require ultimate precision with both tools and crampons. Atop the mixed section, ice flows down from above, and Rob happily swings away. A while later I hear “off belay” from above, as chunks of snow and ice whiz by my belay.

Starting the third and final pitch. Photo by Rob Gonzalez-Pita

I take the lead again and climb two short ice steps to the base of a steep wall. Pick, pick, kick, kick. I place a screw and continue upward, chimneying against a rock flake for good rests as I climb the vertical ice. Pulling over the ice bulge brings me to a mess of scree and rubble. I build a belay and holler down to Rob, who responds with a loud whoop. The technical climbing is over, but we are far from finished.

I suddenly begin to feel exhausted. The next 500 feet of scrambling feels like an eternity, most likely because I’ve had only 200 calories since breakfast. At the ridge, we join the Mt. Evans road at mile-marker seven and begin mindlessly walking down the paved path. We share few words and eventually find a rhythm that steadily chips away at the mileage. Our toes slam against the fronts of our boots with each driving step. Winds sweep up from the valleys to east and burn our faces. The day’s last rays poke over the Divide.

Finally, we cut straight off a switchback in the road and head in the direction of Echo Lake. Animal trails turn into snowshoe trails and visa versa. Eventually, we emerge onto the frozen rim of Echo Lake, and in the snow-blown landscape we slide across the hardened lake back to the warmth of Rob’s truck and the two Snickers bars waiting inside.

Concrete Shoes Won’t Help Ya in da River (III, WI4- M4+), likely first ascent, Rob Gonzalez-Pita and Greg Mionske, December 5, 2009. Greg Mionske, 22, is a photographer and journalism student at CU-Boulder. His photography website is www.gregmionske.com.

Scott Norris on the 5.10+ third pitch of Stardust. Photo by Jeff Achey

Jeff Achey and Scott Norris have added another long route to the Mud Wall (a.k.a. Grizzly Creek Wall), the towering cliff visible from Glenwood Canyon that was first explored by Layton Kor in the 1960s. The new route, Stardust (5.11+), takes a direct line up the steepest section of the cliff for six pitches, all 5.9+ or harder, with the crux on the last pitch. Achey and Norris completed the route in September.

Sector Fantissimo (left to right): Horse and Pony Show (5.12a), Behind the Curtain (5.12b), Stardust (5.11+), and Mudwall (5.11). Courtesy of Jeff Achey

“This one’s the best yet, I think,” Achey said. “The belays are bolted, as are some of the cruxes, and the trad protection is good throughout. The route overhangs the entire way. The rock is pretty good, but with the typical Mudwall grit and the occasional loose block.”

Achey, who’s been putting up new routes in Eldorado Canyon, Canyonlands, and elsewhere since the late ’70s, has spearheaded a renaissance at the Grizzly Creek Wall. During the 1960s, Kor had completed two routes on the Grizzly Creek Wall: the Original Route (5.9 A2), with Bob Culp; and Bear Paw (5.10 A3), with Larry Dalke. But then about four decades went by until anyone else got interested.

In 2007, Achey and Tony Angelis completed a route that Kor had attempted twice, with Bob LaGrange and Huntley Ingalls (The Mudwall, now 5.11, six pitches). “Kor wanted to call the route the Cima Fantissimo, after its imaginary likeness to something in the Dolomites,  but Huntley Ingalls called it the Mudwall, which of course stuck,” Achey said. Thus, he explained, he calls this part of cliff the Fantissimo Sector.

Norris (left) and Achey. Courtesy of Jeff Achey

Achey and Chris Kalous also put up a 10-pitch 5.10 called Mudflap Girl. Other climbers, including Josh Gross, Lynn Sanson, Mike Schneiter, and Chris Van Leuven, have established a handful of routes from 5.11c to 5.12b. Although these have many protection bolts, all of them still require trad pro, helmets, and a heads-up, adventurous attitude.

“We definitely have Layton to thank for this special adventure climbing area and Jeff Achey for relighting the torch of development on the Griz,” Gross said. “As with most climbing rumors, the rock quality and scariness of the Griz is bigger bark then bite. That being said, it’s not for everybody. Every route established on this great wall since the mid-1960s has produced quite the adventure for the first-ascent party.”

The bottom section of The Road (WI3 M4) near Mt. Evans; the icy upper gully is hidden. Photo by Ben Collett

Ben Collett and Eric Zale have climbed an attractive, moderate mixed line (possibly a new route) above the first Chicago Lake near Mt. Evans. The Road (WI3 M4, 5 pitches) follows a gully system in a west-facing rock buttress. The two approached Chicago Lake via the trail from Echo Lake, and then, after the climb, hiked over a ridge to the Mt. Evans road and walked down to the car.

This fun-looking route probably comes into condition many years after a big fall snowstorm. It’s impossible to say for sure if it had been climbed earlier—ice climbers have been prowling this drainage for decades—but regardless of its history, it’s a good one for Denver-area climbers to know about.