Mt. Whitney Portal Store & Hostel Forums General Mt. Whitney Portal Store Message Board Poseur Notes- Return to the Mountains

This post is long and probably tedious- as befits a Poseur Post. I didn't post it to the "WPSMB Camp-Out" thread to avoid cluttering a great thread. Feel free to click "Next".

Keywords: Self-absorbed, past glory, has-been, never was, poser, poseur

I'm 44 years old. My backcountry resume is pretty good. I started backpacking 32 years ago. Spent hundreds of days and nights in the mountains- One summer I counted 40+ days backpacking. On-trail, off-trail. Winter backpacking on snowshoes starting 31 years ago. Old photos show me using an ice axe 30 years ago. I started backcountry skiing 29 years ago. Skinny skis to telemark skis with skins to the best AT gear of the day. Black diamond runs at Mammoth using 52mm tele skis. Did dozens of backpack trips in the Sierra winter. Practiced with ice axe, crampons, rope. Self arrest, ice axe belays, etc... Also some rock climbing, rappels, etc.


But...

Only practiced with crampons and roped winter travel a day or two. Never did a trip with them.
Last time sleeping on snow close to 20 years ago. (Oddly also got married close to 20 years ago...)
Only about 6 days skiing in the past 10 years. (vs 30+ most years before then)
Last time climbing with rope for pro and rappel was 22 years ago- and only played around climbing for one summer.
Only 3 backpack trips in the past 10 years - and two were with little kids.
Most of my day hikes over the past 10 years have been at kid pace- whether they're walking or I was carrying them.

So I guess at this point I'm an internet poseur. Or a has-been.

In my mind though- I'm as good as I ever was...

My wife and kids usually go off to the in-laws for a few weeks in the summer- giving me one guilt-free solo trip opportunity each year. Two years ago I got into my head to hike the JMT, so having done only a single 2 night family trip as my training from 8 years of couch surfing I set off. Fifteen days after leaving Happy Isles I sat down for one of Doug's burgers. The trip based on daydreams and long-ago memories was as close to perfection as I could have imagined. It was my longest ever, with the most daily mileage by a long shot. I had cut pack weight from my "old school" typical 30+ pound base to about 15 base. Even leaving Muir Trail Ranch with 7 days' food my pack was well under 30 pounds.

The best day was one I had been dreading- My plan had a day of cushion but I didn't want to use it. Arriving at my planned campsite one afternoon- Woods Creek Bridge- I decided to get the monkey off my back. The plan was Woods, over Glen Pass to Center Basin Creek one day, then over Forester the next. Instead I decided to get to Tyndall creek a day early.
I had dinner at Woods and pushed on to Rae Lakes and the foot of Glen Pass. Up at 4:00 I started up Glen by headlamp. Summiting at first light, I headed down. Breakfast at Shorty's cabin. Lunch at Center Basin. Forester at 2:00! I felt fantastic. The base of the pass came quickly, but then the long slog to Tyndall seemed to sap me. My dogs were barking but I felt great otherwise- the longest day of my trip, two passes including the highest on the PCT!


Last year I planned another Big Deal Trip- but instead at the last minute "decided" to experience kidney stones instead. At least they hit right before the trip rather than during.

Then this year I got to thinking about my real love- winter and snow trips. As a teenager I was thrilled by the first crisp days in the fall as leaves turned in the Owens Valley. I knew that snow was coming soon. But now nearly 30 years later, living in LA with a job and family commitments it's hard to get out. Sadly I've only skied a half dozen days since my daughter came along in 2000. Maybe a few more days of snowshoeing. I decided that while big trips to the Sierra are mostly out I could go local as I sat looking at the snow on Baldy. Surfing the web quickly learned that snowshoes don't cut it on hard, consolidated So-Cal snow. Considered microspikes or the like but went with 10 point strap-on crampons. I had never really felt the need for crampons in the Sierra.

First planned trip up Baldy cancelled due to family schedule. But the next week it looked like I could do an overnighter. More schedule drama and I didn't leave Long Beach until 2:00 PM and I needed to be home at 9:00 or so the next morning. I started up the ski hut trail after 4:00 in the afternoon planning to camp near the hut. Decided to try out my new crampons at the turn from Falls Rd. to the Ski Hut trail. Amazing things let me walk relaxed without worrying about slipping. Dark and cold found me still short of the hut, but full moon and Ze's GPS track kept the route easy to follow. As I despaired of reaching it the bright lights from the hut window appeared up the hill. I knocked on the door and was given a warm welcome to join them in front of the fire. I ended up staying the night in a bunk instead of my original plan to camp out- not sure if I wouldn't have slept better outdoors though.

Woke up at 4:00 AM and headed back to the trailhead. While I had appreciated crampons the previous evening, this morning they were amazing. The snow was rock hard and would have been quite exciting with just boot soles, but with the crampons I could go anywhere. Approaching the trailhead I met a pair who were headed up- one told me that it was his friend's 300th Baldy climb- that he was only going for his 185th. He gave his name as "Shin".


So here I was with my first time walking more than 1/4 mile on crampons. I felt tricked! Why had I not used them in my youth? I had always figured they were only for "ice climbing", but obviously they made hard snow much easier and safer. A new world was opened up. About this time I decided to join the WPSMB Whitney climb. My first time up Whitney was on a trip in 1981 from Horseshoe where we camped at Lower Crabtree and I went up the Crabtree Lakes basin, climbed Discovery Pinnacle, Muir, and one of the needles before summitting Whitney. Ever since I've wanted to climb the Mountaineer's Route- preferably on snow to avoid scree and willows.

In the next few weeks I kept trying to get up to actually summit Baldy. A few trips were planned and scratched. Finally Norma R. and I were set up to climb on a Friday when she had to cancel due to a unforeseen tragedy- but she hooked me up with Kathy Wing who was headed up that day. Great trip- I was pushed by the others' pace all day but it was wonderful. Again crampons amazed me by their grip. Shortly thereafter I climbed Baldy again with a WPSMB group- Richard P, Cheryl, James L, Mustachioed Mark, and Shin! This time the route was a bit steeper and the wind rather stronger (to put it mildly). I started to question my 80 cm ice axe and 10 point crampons. Physically I felt good though. I've always claimed to climb at 1,000' per hour and it had taken right at 4 hours to summit, then 2 back to the car.

The Whitney MR trip was rapidly approaching and no time for more practice. I did spend a few days in Yosemite with the family and we went snowshoeing. I also did some more breaking-in of my new mountaineering boots. That scared me when they seemed to have absolutely no grip on wet granite. I made sure to walk a bunch of pavement to open up the rubber soles.

Leaving for Whitney I stopped by REI. New helmet, new ice axe. Then in Lone Pine I stopped by Elevation and bought a new pair of 12 point "semi-auto" crampons and a new climbing harness. Here I am- big time poseur with all new gear.

Visiting my folks for a day in Independence I spent a great deal of time trying to decide on what gear to bring. Heavy or light? Big or small? Warm or cool? Eventually with weather reports, beta from Brandon at the Portal, and more desire to make it than be comfortable I decided on light- pack, mini-tent, bag. In the end the only thing I wished to have done differently was to add my full-length Ridge Rest- The lack of a convenient way to lash it on my pack led me to leave it behind. My muscles were glad to have only 25 pounds to carry though.

But gear is just gear. New or old, the gear requires knowledge and skill to operate. Beyond gear- Experience, judgement, and conditioning are needed to get up and down the mountain safely. Was I ready? Did I still have it or was I fooling myself?

It was comforting to not be entirely among strangers as the trip started. I knew Doug from common acquaintances- both my folks and co-workers. Richard, Mark, Cheryl, Shin and James from Baldy. Ellen from her fame online. Brandon I had met the day before.

As the trip started I tried not to let my recent inexperience show. I was just following so on the way up there were no real route issues. I was thinking though- Would I go this way? Is that ice unstable? Have I seen slopes like that slide on a warm day like this? How is the pace? Reaching our tent city I felt completely at ease. Tent, food, staying warm, s#####ng in a bag... all familiar.

Did I mention not sleeping on snow in 20 years? I also hadn't used my tiny bivy tent in that time. Crawling in and out of a 20" tent is different at 44 than at 24. A 3/4 length therma-rest doesn't quite cut it on snow. My sit pad kept slipping from under my feet, and whenever I rolled onto my side, shoulder and hip would freeze. Not a good night. Thankfully for the second night a kind young man loaned me his third pad- and I slept 100% warmer!

Morning came and with it hot drinks and good company. The advantage of sleeping in all my clothes meant getting up was easy. Up the hill we went. Approaching the headwall below Iceberg lake I put on the new crampons. Amazing! Click and tug the strap and they're on rock solid. Scamper up the steep sidehill. The new axe was great too- light, comfortable to hold, yet willing to plunge deeply into snow for support.

Above Iceberg the route was straightforward. Up, up, and more up. Deep bucket steps- didn't really need the crampons but I kept them on for security. The main thing was remembering the old skill of rest-step. At first I could go step, step, breathe. Then it was step, breathe. Oddly, while some were passing me I passed others. Some almost caught up but then rested and fell back. I tried to keep heart, breath, and pace balanced.

Asked the Zombie for altitude from his fancy watch. 12,700'. Ok- only 1400' to the Notch. But I'm approaching rocks- is there a false summit before the Notch? Soon I'm there... apparently I misunderstood and it was 13,700'! We're there! Greeted new friends for a brief celebration. Made more water from snow. Said goodbye to Shin. Then onward and upward.

The Final 400. I've been reading about this for a couple months. The most dangerous part of the trip. One slip and it's over the cliff you go. The entire reason for upgrading boots, crampons, axe, and bringing the harness. It's steep. There's rock. But it doesn't look that bad. Up we go. Followed someone up the rock- in hindsight should have chosen my own route but his was okay... Realize that I haven't practiced climbing on rock with crampons at all. No matter- the rock is easy, the crampons secure, and quickly I'm back on snow.

Steeper now. Air thinner. Exposure greater. But still bucket steps are deep and secure. Axe plunges in to the head and holds firm. Up we go. Not a bit of nausea, tiny headache. Someone has stamped a small platform so I step off to take pictures: Ryan/Dan, Corina, Mike, Arthur the Zombie, Brandon, that other guy, finally Richard P. Back into line and upward I went.

Topping out was a thrill. Congrats all around. I can't imagine a day in the year with a better combination of weather, views, and friends.

After plenty of time taking photos, borrowing phones, and generally milling about it was time to head down. Up was never really the worry. The worry was down. That's the main reason I bought a climbing harness and rappel device- predicting much icier conditions than we faced. Now was the time to put it to use. I rigged up and joined the line of folks waiting to go down. Not having done such a thing in over two decades I double checked my rigging, double checked how the rope should go through. Mostly for safety, partly so I wouldn't be the noob who would hold up the line. I felt my heart start to race. Was it fear of the abyss or fear of being the clumsy noob? Giga Mike must have sensed my apprehension when he said something like "You're next". I don't think I pushed to the front of the line but I stayed there while others milled about. First a bit more waiting while half a dozen folks downclimbed then one more rappelled. Now my turn. I think I was pretty quick releasing the device, wrapping the rope, and screwing the 'biner shut. Then just a walk down. Not quite vertical enough to bound out (and spin about, bashing head into rock as I did once as a kid). But I tried to move quickly while avoiding spiking the rope with my crampons. Rope wanted to twist and knot at the bottom but I cleared it quickly. Released and called "Off Rappel!".

Now I was smiles and laughter. Pulled my ice axe from behind my back and moved out of the fallout zone. I thought some who were still downclimbing were moving with too much fear- or did I suddenly have too little? I found a big rock seat to the edge of the chute. Warm in the sun, out of the wind. I sat down and relaxed. Each rappeller knocked at least a few chunks of snow, ice, or rock loose so I took it upon myself to call out the hazards. I felt so good, so relaxed at 14,000'. The rope got terribly tangled and one guy was having trouble moving down. I climbed up to try and help and he eventually unclipped- but his ice axe was with a friend up above. Indecision set in- he couldn't safely move down from the rope- yet it wouldn't be prudent to stay there without an axe either. I jammed mine in for him to use as a hand hold, while keeping the leash clipped to my harness. We stayed there until his friend rappelled down with the axe.

Back to my perch I relaxed and carried out my duty of yelling "snowball" or "rock" whenever something rolled down. Finally the last person, Richard P., was down. Unfortunately the ropes were stuck. Watching him struggle to free them I eventually climbed up. The top seemed so simple and close that I offered to climb up to free the ropes- but not wanting to be overconfident I wanted to be sure that someone would remain to assist me if needed. While I had been sitting on a warm rock sheltered from the breeze, Richard had been in the chill wind on the summit for the past hour. He was tired and we still had another 200' to climb down to the notch. He made the prudent decision to leave the ropes for another day and head down. I used skier Andrew's rope to rappel down to the notch and waited while Richard released the rope and climbed down. With the rope in my pack it was time to head down the chute. Initially plunge stepping with crampons, eventually I packed the crampons away and glissaded down. There was too much friction from my harness and pack while seated, yet my boots sunk in too much while standing. I ended up mostly doing a squatting glissade with boots and backside providing the running surface.

Reaching the flats, I was suddenly very tired. It seemed that once the sun had dropped behind the mountain it had taken my energy with it. I could see where skier Andrew and his friend were waiting on the far side of the flat below Iceberg Lake. I postholed my way across, feeling more fatigue with each step. Thankfully when I reached their boulder they offered a snack bar. Actually they first offered whiskey but I declined that. After a bite or two I felt the energy flowing back. I headed to camp and had a nice- still tiring walk down. Several of us arrived about the same time and spirits were high.

A most excellent trip.

So am I still the poseur or not? Time may tell. The Next Big Thing for my summer break is in the works. Probably too much, but isn't it better to aim high and struggle, maybe failing, than aim low and achieve little?

Jim

Great trip report Jim-bo! after all those years you STILL got it Arthur

Nice! Congratulations on getting back into it.

I'm 10 years older than you, so you've got at least another decade of good climbing ahead.

I hope were still going strong when were Shins Age. He is the MAN!

Great report Jim.

true dat zombie...

true dat.

Awesome TR, Jim!

That rocked Jim! Now if the Baldy hut were just at the Notch...

Only 400' higher and there is one... Not nearly as nice, but is does serve its purpose.

Hey, maybe next year we use it?

Richard, good idea. Maybe a little summit pot luck. But only if Tracy brings the crock pot chicken (hmmm, chicken).

Jim, after reading your TR again, you're not a poser/poseur nor a has been. Although if I had to pick to be one of those I'd probably pick has been. At least it might indicate there once was something there.

Your story was very candid and honest. Rarely do people question themselves outwardly. But your line, "In my mind though-I'm as good as I ever was". That summed up the JimQ I've seen on the mountains. Calm, cool, professional.

Your TR is a "Stand by Me" of climbing. Great narrative interspersed with vivid flashbacks and candid self introspection.

Now say that 3 times fast.

Seriously though, you are not alone in telling your story and questioning yourself. I would guess everyone does that to a degree, some publish, some talk to family/friends, some don't say a word. But the questions remain. Those questions could have been very valuable had the weather/conditions been bad and those "bucket steps" not been there on the final 400.

Those monikers might apply if we don't question ourselves from time to time.

Great job on the hike, time for the San Gorgonio 9 peak challenge. Be a good warmup for your big summer adventure.

Jim, I enjoyed your TR, too. Actually, I am enjoying EVERYONE's TRs! So fun to relive that amazing weekend through another's perspective.

James, well said (Seriously though, you are not alone in telling your story and questioning yourself. I would guess everyone does that to a degree... ) if there is a Pot Luck BBQ at the Portal, I promise to bring BBQ Brisket. Staying away from chicken bones for the time being

Tracie