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| Derek and Kenton, very happy on the Notch Peak summit |
On Thursday June 27, 2024 I flew to Salt Lake City, spent the night in a hotel near the airport, and picked Derek up on Friday morning around 8 AM. We headed west for about two hours on a two-lane highway to Delta, UT where we stopped for lunch before heading out to Notch Peak to check out the climbing. Our objective was Western Hardman (5.10c, 12 pitches). We figured we would drive out there, hike up to the base, maybe climb the first few pitches to orient ourselves, then rap to the base, return to our hotel in Delta, and be ready for a strong attempt the following morning. That's not what ended up happening.
After driving up an increasingly unpassable dirt trail, we came to a halt and parked on the side of the road when it became clear our rented Subaru would not be able to make it over some boulders. It was well after lunch by now, and I figured I would only bring a liter of water despite the now-sweltering heat. Derek convinced me to bring more, so I topped off the hydration bladder to its full two liters. We both put most of the gear in our small packs and started trekking up the approach canyon. Maybe two miles into the hike we found a cairn indicating a very steep dirt and scree scramble up to the right which we followed to the base of the climb. We were quite hot and sweating at this point in the unseasonably warm temperatures (mid-90's) that were in place this week. Luckily for us the north-facing climb seemed largely in the shade.
We racked up and I started up the wall, linking pitches 1-2. The climbing was fun but felt low-key. Derek led pitches 3-4. At some point he joked that if we got high enough maybe we should just run it to the top and finish the climb that day, despite our late start. Much of these first four pitches consisted of climbing through a series of right-facing dihedrals. The often flaky and hollow quality of the rock sometimes did not inspire confidence in gear placements, but there seemed to be a generous sprinkling of bolts in places where this was the case. I led the bolted pitch five and reached the base of the "Godsend" pitch six.
At this point I had been starting to seriously consider Derek's off-hand suggestion that we could make it to the top that afternoon. We were moving much faster than I had expected, and running the numbers it seemed totally doable to me. The forecast for the following day (Saturday) was for a much windier day, and that certainly didn't sound appealing. However, it was around this point that Derek mentioned he had only brought 750 ml of water. WHAT?!?! It was his comment earlier at the car which had convinced me to bring more water in the first place. We decided that I would try to lead this first cruxy pitch and, if it went smoothly enough, maybe we would continue on. Well, it went quickly. I'll admit that this pitch felt no harder really than 5.10a or so, but maybe I was feeling particularly strong that day. There was a thought-provoking move about halfway through this pitch, but a solid rail out to the right of the crack made it feel casual.
At this point we felt committed. I was a bit concerned about the lack of water, but Derek seemed OK with continuing. He led the next two pitches, more dihedrals. I can't remember which one of us led pitch nine to the base of the second crux, pitch 10. But I led pitch ten through some solid but still relatively casual climbing well protected by judiciously placed bolts. I tried linking into the next pitch but the rope drag was too difficult (it continuous all the way around to the back side of the wall, around a gully, and then up the far wall). So I brought Derek up and he led this rather tricky section. At the top he belayed me from a ledge, and from there I traversed right about 25 feet, around a corner, and into the final pitch to the top, an interesting wide chimney (no chimney technique required) with cracks on both sides. Derek quickly joined me and we took victory photos at the top. Maybe it took us about six hours to climb the entire thing.
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| Kenton hanging from the anchors at the top of pitch 12 |
The entire time I had been climbing I had been thinking we would, at this point, just start to rappel as quickly as possible down the 12 rappels back to the base. Dusk was now falling and we had well under an hour of daylight/dusklight left. But somehow we convinced ourselves to explore the top of this ridge for a while to see if we could find the walk-off descent we had read hints about on Mountain Project. Derek was fully feeling the effects of his dehydration, and we wanted to be sure we chose the safest way to get down given that extenuating circumstance and the fact that the descent would be taking place in the dark. Unfortunately we never found the walk-off. After scrambling around to the south both east and west of the ridgeline, it became clear that without some beta for the descent trail it would be unsafe to continue this way. We resigned to return to the top of the climb and begin the 12 rappels in the dark.
Rapping pitch 12 was easy enough. Gaining the ledge at the bottom, we traversed back over to the left to the top of pitch 11. This was by far the most dangerous part of the adventure, as it involved rappelling directly into the open canyon to another ledge and gingerly tiptoeing back around the lip of the canyon to the front side, hanging onto some rope handles along the way. It felt very high stakes, as a fall here would have meant a big swing back to the wall farthest from the climb. Nevertheless we both completely this rappel without major incident, placing us back onto the north face proper. From here the rappelling was more straightforward, other than the fact that on more than one occasion the knots at the ends of the ropes became stuck down below the intermediate rap station and I was forced to rap past these stations to free it. About two hours after starting the rappels, we had reached the ground safely. Derek was desperate for water but still holding himself together admirably. We hiked the two miles back to the car, drank as much water as we could stomach, and began to breath more easily.
The next day we were both ready for a more relaxing adventure. Having slept the previous evening from four AM until 11 AM, we intentionally got a late post-lunch start on the day. This time we drove back out in the same direction to Marjum Canyon. My gouty toe was starting to really act up (it had started hurting a bit earlier in the week), and I wasn't super excited for a very big day. Well, we were in for another surprise as we started racking up at the car, staring up at the Eye of the Needle (5.10a). Derek had left his climbing shoes in the hotel! He was a great sport about it, nevertheless, and suggested we still try the climb with him in his trail runners. Well, OK! We hiked up the left side of the hill near the fence line, then approached along the base of the cliff to the right directly under the "eye". I led both pitches. The first pitch actually felt harder than 5.10a to me. It involved very small crimps and delicate footwork, with generously spaced bolts. Perhaps it would have felt easier if I hadn't been trying so hard to avoid stepping on my left toe. Derek unfortunately had to yank on gear on the bottom half of the first pitch. He did the second pitch cleanly (I think?). At one point I knocked off a rock maybe 3/4" across which smacked him right on the top of the head and left his ears ringing. I was very thankful he wasn't more hurt than this. The final pitch took us through the eye of the needle and up about 15 feet to the top of a pointy outcropping. For the descent we again deciding to do a walk-off. This time we found it, but it turned out to be a bit scree-filled and quite a bit longer than we had expected. Doing two rappels would have been far more efficient.
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| Kenton trying not to be blinded by the sun while looking up through the needle's eye |
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| Derek stands on the spire atop Eye of the Needle |
On Sunday, our final day of adventure, we got up at five AM and made the drive to Little Cottonwood Canyon's Becky's Wall area. Our first climb was Satan's Corner (5.8+). This was a relatively straightforward granite crack climb, but climbing granite always seems harder to me than sandstone. Derek led the first pitch but decided he didn't have enough gear left to comfortably link it into the second pitch and lowered back to the ground. I climbed back up to the top of pitch one, cleaning gear as I went, and then climbed up through the hand crack of the second pitch. This didn't feel incredibly challenging, but it certainly had me fully awake at times, as I was forced to jam my feet in for my footholds and my gouty metatarsal joint screamed out in occasional pain. With a top-rope slingshot belay now set up on the whole climb, Derek climbed it relatively easily. We then moved right and he led the first two pitches of Becky's Wall (5.7). Again, this climb didn't feel too incredibly difficult, but it felt harder to me than 5.7. We had originally thought we would continue on from here up a 5.9 called Pebbles and Bambam (5.9), but by now we both decided we had had enough adrenaline (and hot sunshine!) for the weekend, so we rappelled back to the base and returned to the car.
The weekend finished up with a leisurely hike up the White Pine Lake Trail, just up the road, before we drove to the airport and went our separate ways.
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| Looking out at the end of our hike up White Pine Lake Trail |