Climbing

The next day we had a leisurely start while we waited for the snow to finish. Heading up to the base of Pamola proved to be hard work. The snow was fairly crusty but almost every step broke through to the knee. Occasionally we'd be unlucky and step on the top of a young pine tree hidden under the snow which would leave us sprawled out on the snow trying to dig ourselves out of a waist deep pit of powder.

The level of the lake dropped after it had frozen causing these strange heaves.

Greg battling the snow.

Pamola is impressive. It's wide, it's high and it's steep. It's every ice climbers dream. Greg and I eagerly got geared up for our first climb only to be put right back in our place by how hard the ice was. It looked awesome but it was as hard as nails, brittle and hollow and quite simply scared the crap out of us. We abandoned the climb after only one short pitch of 100 feet. It was nearly 4:00 anyway. We slowly wandered back to the hut with our tails between our legs. Rather than inspiring us with an easy introduction to Maine ice we had been rattled and wondered how we'd do on one of the longer 2000' climbs on Katahdin the following day.

Greg with Cilly Barber running up right to left in the background.

Greg exploring the hard ice of Pamola.

The fearsome frontline

The fearful Mat pretending to climb.

The next day came rather early. 4:30 to be precise. Phil had to abandon his intentions to climb with us because he had badly injured his ham string on the ski in the previous days. This meant climbing as a slow threesome. Even though the trail to the base of the climb had been broken the day before, the wind had successfully covered all tracks and left us no option but to flounder around like the previous day. We made it to the bottom of the Cilly Barber route by 7:00 as it was getting light. The sun kissing the mountain tops above us was a warming sight even though the north facing climb never sees the sun directly.

The first pitch was a full rope length of meandering climbing leading up to a huge snow field. The ice was just as funky as the previous day but this time we had our secret weapon, Pete, on the sharp end of the rope. The hardest section of this pitch was a 40' chunk of grade 3. But somehow even this seemed like a battle as we had to fight to get our ice tools out of the iron hard ice which they were seemingly welded into.

The snow field was steep but had a really nice crust on it making progress easy. All three of us moved quickly together placing running belays as we went. At the top of this lay a series of small ice bulges separated by small, steep snow fields. Again once we had belayed Greg up the initial difficulties and then Pete, we all climbed together to save time. Climbing together like this is risky because if any one of us fell they would almost certainly pull the other two with them until the rope came tight on one of the running belays. Judging when to climb together and when not to really depends on the people involved and how comfortable everyone is on the terrain but on the longer routes it is essential in order to prevent spending a night on the climb.

During one of these pitches I got hit in the face with a piece of ice dislodged by one of the climbers above. Luckily my nose got in the way and prevented any dental expense.

The view back down to the lake and the, now, tiny Pamola cliffs.

Up above this section there was a rather dubious looking snow field which lead into a narrowing gully bounded on one side by vertical rock and on the other by lower angled iced up rock. The obvious line seemed to be on the left by the rock in order to take advantage of rock anchors and to avoid being swept away if the slope did avalanche. As it turned out there were no cracks or spikes to use any rock gear in only a snow picket placed on the avalanche prone slope.

I was glad of the short ice wall of 20' which blocked the gully because it was the first place I could put a good ice screw in to protect all three of us. Another short section of snow above this lead to a narrowing of the gully where the vertical rock wall met the low angled rock. This was the crux pitch. A 60' grade 4 with a very interesting ice mushroom sticking out of the top. Time to use the secret weapon again.

Pete did an awesome job leading despite the ice being so hard that he couldn't get any of his ice screws to start properly. With ice that hard it is difficult to get anything but the sharpest ice screws in. Even when it was possible to get a screw in it was almost impossible to screw them more than half way in unless your girlfriend is Olive Oyl and you have tattoos of anchors on your forearms.

The crux pitch with its interesting ice cave.

Pete with his firmly placed ice screws, ice axes, snow pickets and whatever else he could bury.

This being the hardest pitch it would have been really nice to have bombproof anchors waiting at the top to belay myself and Greg up. However, ice climbing being what it is, Pete did his best with as many ice screws carefully buried in the sugary snow above and equalized with a length of cord.

Once we were all assembled at the anchor we had to decide which route to take now. The route so far had been obvious but now we had the choice of a slanting snow ramp with a hideous fall down a blank rock face below; a careful climb up inch thick iced up rocks directly above, bearing in mind the dubious nature of the belay anchor; or a traverse left and up a snow chute which looked like it might not hold judging by the fracture lines across it.

Greg took the initiative and headed up the dubious looking snow chute - obvious choice really. Further up he could get some excellent rock protection in by looping the rope over some spikes. There were also some wire placements to be found. A short section of rock climbing led from here up to an easy ridge which joined on to the main Katahdin cirque higher up. From our new vantage point we all agreed that we'd made the right choice, the other two options looked horrendous. Maybe another 800' of steep unconsolidated snow covering verglassed rock.

Pete in his dramatic perch above the crux pitch (bottom left corner).

Greg surmounting the rock difficulties above the snow gully.

The final scramble up the ridge to the summit.

Just how flat is Maine exactly?????

We finally topped out on the ridge at about 4:30 with a chilling wind blowing and the sun sinking low in the sky. Up on the ridge it becomes apparent that Katahdin is a unique environment. As far as it is possible to see, the surrounding terrain is practically flat and tree covered which gives a sharp contrast to the soaring rock projections of Katahdin where the trees struggle to survive the high winds and heavy snowfall each year.

The descent down Cathedral ridge is a long and tedious one. It gradually rolls off and gets steeper and steeper. It seems to be made worse as the sun goes down and the cabin starts to emit a warming glow as the people below light the wood fire and get the tilly lamps going. This just seems to make the wind feel colder but keeps us heading downward. The snow is just as infuriating as it was in the morning. A hard crust requiring controlled crampon placements gives way without warning to a thigh deep tree hole. These seem to be designed to break unsuspecting legs and are a real drain both physically and mentally.

Even though the cold and wind was biting, it still pays to check the map before descending. Most accidents happen on the way down.

The relatively gentle slopes off the summit bring relief to aching muscles.

Back down at tree level and on flat ground the trail becomes a fight. We each take turns breaking the trail. All of the snow that blows off the surrounding slopes gets dumped down here in the trees. Pretty soon we see the lights from the cabin and try heading straight for them. This is a mistake because it takes us right over a mini mine field of trees. The will to live is gone - well not really, we trudge on and arrive triumphantly at the wooden hut, tired and hungry but with an amazing sense of achievement.

Mt.Katahdin - Baxter State Park

Climbing