Year of the Bike

For those of you that missed it, 2013 was Salt Lake City’s Year of the Bike.  Personally, a claim like that brings to mind the far reaching social and infrastructural changes required to undermine urban motorized transportation, make cycling the primary mode of personal transportation, and take a big step towards ending the air pollution or “inversion” that has become a near constant threat to the health of SLC’s Residents.  Laws prohibiting single occupancy vehicles, expanded bike lanes and trails, economic incentives for cycling… Basically shutting down all vehicular traffic inside city limits except for trucks, buses and trains is pretty much what I have in mind when I think of a city giving over an entire year for the advocacy and awareness of bicycling.  Claiming anything as “Year of” should mean it’s influence is far greater than any other social or political force.  Think, Year of the Axe Murdering Homeless Man, or, Year of the West Valley City Gonorrhea Infection.  Although those might be titles you’d affix after the point, they pretty well capture what has happened.  So looking back on the last year, it’s hard to notice any real changes in Salt Lake’s transportation hierarchy.  Although I’m not a resident of SLC, and my time spent there usually amounts to a few weeks in the spring and fall, from my perch atop Little Cottonwood Canyon it’s easy to look down and see the murky, poisonous soup, and know damn well that it’s not a bunch of cyclists that’ve caused it.  But while SLC didn’t under go any major cycling-themed transformations, they’ve still managed to put together a few initiatives worth mentioning.  Also, in honor and celebration of the year gone by, I’ve dumped a bunch of pictures and captions in the following post that wrap up our bike-powered adventures in and around SLC this fall.  

Continue reading “Year of the Bike”

Enchantments Part 3, Little Annapurna and the Knitting Needles

This will be the last installment in a series of posts about our last big hurrah in the Stuart Range.  If you missed out, check out the overview, a report on some adventure-neering up the south side of McClellan Peak, and a pioneering scramble up the south face of Enchantment’s Southwest Peak.  This post is from day 6 of our trip, another great day of unknown adventure climbing at its finest.  We topped out on two of the highest Knitting Needles and blazed a line up the South face of Little Annapurna Peak.  Capped off with an amazing sunset this day was one I’ll not soon forget. Continue reading “Enchantments Part 3, Little Annapurna and the Knitting Needles”

How to take a rest day in the mountains.

Truth be told, the only rest day Liz and I took on our recent 7-night trip in the Enchantments was our first full day in the alpine.  After slogging alongside Snow Creek and the 10-12 miles up to our base camp, a good meal and a nights rest were in order.  When the next day dawned, I was up and ready, taking in the beautiful surroundings and turning over all the endless possibilities that may fill the days ahead.  Although we both felt relatively well for having shouldered some big-ass packs for almost 5,000 vertical feet and 9 hours the day before, we thought it’d be wise to take a day to rest and recuperate, which took the form of a casual stroll up the broad Northeast shoulder of Little Annapurna Peak.  The next day, ready for adventure, we tackled our first adventure, a combination of 5th class climbing and scrambling over the Nightmare Needles and up the convoluted Southern expanse of McClellan Peak.  Check out the wright up here, or just look below, HA! Continue reading “How to take a rest day in the mountains.”

Nightmares, Neverland, and Big Mac

It was our third day camped out in the headwaters of Crystal Creek.  We were as close to the edge of the permit zone of the Enchantment Basin, in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, as we could get.  Two days ago we had left Leavenworth with 50+ pound packs, loaded with food, fuel, and enough climbing equipment to keep us busy for over a week.  The awkward and oversized packs barely fit in our bicycle trailers and the thought of flat tires was a real threat on my mind.  We reached the trailhead without incident, and began the slog-fest to the high peaks above.  The 10+ mile approach took about 9 hours, and I was happy we made for an early start when around 5 o’clock in the evening we found a suitable spot, hidden, out of the way, and near abundant fresh water.  My ass had suffered, with at least one spot rubbed raw by the oversized expedition pack I was carrying.  Without a scale I’ll never know exactly how much my pack weighed, but my earlier excitement with carrying two ropes, 9 days of food, a tent, bag, and daypack had turned into happiness that I hadn’t injured myself carrying all this gear that most likely topped out at over 70 lbs, and was, hopefully, the heaviest pack I’ll ever carry.

Continue reading “Nightmares, Neverland, and Big Mac”

Higher Ground

For the last week Liz and I had a base camp high in the Enchantment Peaks.  With Eastern Washington burning around us, many of the climbers and residents of Leavenworth and nearby towns have run off to seek higher ground and an escape from the smoke.  For those with automobiles, escape means Washington Pass, North Cascades, Smith Rock, or a variety of other destinations.  For Liz and I, not limited but bound to human power, we put our hopes on the high country of the Enchantment Peaks.  With fires blocking access to some of our bigger goals, we had to re-think our plans, and make the best of a world on fire.  We were rewarded with many days of clean air, some days of smoke, and one of the best times anyone could ask for. Continue reading “Higher Ground”

Dragontail Peak, Serpentine Arete

When we arrived in Leavenworth this spring, it was the first time either Liz or myself had ever seen the town, the Stuart Range, or the Cascades.  A dry ski season had left us with strong legs, weak butts, and a voracious appetite for climbing.  With only our bicycles for transportation our appetite was indeed larger then our ability for those first few weeks.  Slowly we worked our way into the season with short trips up the Tumwater and Icicle canyons, the packs on our backs were heavily laden with gear.  Hobo’s Gulch, Clem’s Holler, Castle Rock, Pearly Gates, we methodically worked our way up the road, each ride a little farther, each climb a little harder.  After a while we wised up and put some slick tires on our bikes and threw down some dough for a couple of B.O.B. trailers to get the gear off our backs and save our asses some unnecessary pain.  We’ve come a long way since those first weeks of this human powered season, our cycling has become more efficient, faster, and more pleasurable, and our climbing has improved in the same ways.  Not only the physical nature of our trips has increased though, the mental toughness required to undertake a multi night adventure in this style is demanding.  Should either of us be hurt or otherwise compromised, we’re a long walk and ride from town.  The more we’ve become accustomed to this risk and accepted its many challenges, physical and mental, the more successful, exciting, and purely awesome our trips have become.  On our most recent bicycle-powered excursion into the Stuart Range, we wanted to push the envelope even farther by undertaking a committing alpine climb, from town, all human power, in one day.  We aimed high, and were rewarded with one of the finest climbs, and most rewarding experiences of the summer. Continue reading “Dragontail Peak, Serpentine Arete”

The Mole and The Shrew

Sounds like the beginning to a children’s story, but these two peaks help form the quartet of spires that is the Rat Creek Group.  This collection of towers lies just a few short miles from Icicle Road as the crow flies, but a world away when you consider the trail less expanse of bushwhacking and blow downs separating it from would-be climbers.  For our first single day alpine attempt, town to town, human powered, we chose the Mole, the largest in this quartet of spires lying just in view from the bottom of the canyon. Continue reading “The Mole and The Shrew”