Banana Peel

Friday. Squish, squish went the windshield wipers. The mountains played hide and seek behind soggy clouds as we drove west on the TransCanada through steady rain. Other that maybe in Scotland, rain and mixed climbing don't go together well. Still, "Storm Creek's a lot higher. This'll turn to snow by the time we get up there", I said confidently.

A couple of hours later we were gearing up at the base of the rock. The wall above us glistened black and wet. Even though we were now hundreds of metres above the highway, the rain continued to slash down.

"Hmm, do you think these conditions are actually dangerous?"

"Nah, the terrain above us is pretty steep. Not dangerous, just gross." And then the ultimate argument: "And we're already here..."

Fortunately the first couple of ropelengths didn't involve any ice, just snowed up, slippery rock. Halfway up the second pitch I took off my gloves to wring them out. Then I put them back on: it seemed pointless to change into a fresh pair, they'd be soaked within minutes.

We thought it best not to touch the thin ice on the third pitch. With water running behind it, it didn't look like it'd hold bodyweight - and we'd just destroy what little was left. In spite of the early hour, we threaded the ropes through the anchor and headed down toward a warm, dry car.

Banana Peel is the middle of 3 discontinuous ice lines close together on the Storm Creek headwall.

Yours truly starts up the first ropelength in steady rain. Photo: Juan Henriquez.

Juan hopes his tool doesn't rip through sodden scree as he nears the second belay.

Water streaming down the rock and percolating under the ice doesn't make for inspiring mixed climbing conditions.

The view down Storm Creek on a rotten November day.

***

Monday. At least the thermometer on the dashboard had recovered slightly from the low of -18 C it'd hit a few minutes earlier. By the time we hiked up the firebreak we'd even warmed up enough to shed a layer. Still, it took a while to gear up at the base, what with having to swing circulation back into our fingers in between putting on harnesses and tightening boots.

The first two ropelengths flew by quickly and we found ourselves again below the thin ice of the third. Actually the first ten metres was more compact rock than ice but a few bolts kept things reasonable. After some tenuous hooking it felt good to reach the strip of continuous ice above. Flat-footing on a sloping ledge, I tapped into the greyish sheet over my head. The ice made a hollow noise, splintered and vibrated. I pictured an entire section breaking off with me on it.

"I'm not sure about this", I yelled down.

"Up to you", Juan shouted back from the belay where he and Maia stood wrapped up in puffy jackets and pants.

I suppose I'm already here, I thought. I unclipped the power drill from my harness and sunk a bolt into the waterworn limestone beside the ice. Placing a bolt next to climbable ice seemed wrong, but at least it'd keep me attached to the cliff should the strip decide to peel away. However, the ice stayed put, and an hour later Juan was swinging his way up the brittle chandeliers of the last pitch. Given the character of the ice and my fondness for the fruit, Banana Peel seemed like an appropriate name.

What a difference three days make. Juan and Raphael start up the slope below Buddha Nature on a cold and blue -15 C morning. Photo: Maia Schumacher.

Juan muckles over an awkward step at the start of the first pitch.

Raphael starts up the slabby second pitch. Not hard but somehow insecure enough not to be easy, either. Photo: Juan Henriquez.

Thin ice on the third pitch... Photo: Maia Schumacher.

... and thick though brittle ice on the fourth.

The line of Banana Peel with the belays and rappels indicated.

Banana Peel, 110 m, WI5 M6

FA: Juan Henriquez, Maia Schumacher, Raphael Slawinski, November 2019

Left of the obvious flow of Buddha Nature on the Storm Creek headwall are three discontinuous ice lines. Banana Peel is the middle one. A couple of pitches of lower-angled mixed climbing lead to a flow of ice that starts out very thin and gradually thickens to something more reasonable. Some rock gear and ice screws are needed but there are also many bolts.

Approach as for Buddha Nature (usually a donkey trail) and traverse a hundred metres or so left along the base of the cliff. The overhead hazard isn’t too bad but the approach slope is steep enough to slide. 2 hours.

Climb:
Pitch 1 (30 m, M2): Scratch up to a short, awkward step. Muckle over it and slog up and right on a snow ramp. Rock gear belay.

Pitch 2 (30 m, M4): Climb up a few metres to the first of 3 bolts and a slabby left-trending ramp. From the left end of a snow ledge climb a low-angled groove to another ledge. Traverse left around an outside corner and climb a rock step past a bolt to a 2-bolt belay.

Pitch 3 (30 m, M6 WI5): Scramble left and up to the first bolt. A small cam can be used to protect the initial moves. Hook small edges and patches of thin ice past a few bolts to more continuous ice. A last couple of bolts protect the detached sheet of ice above. Continue on improving ice to a snow ledge and a 2-bolt belay on the right.

Pitch 4 (20 m, WI4). Good ice leads to the top. Belay from screws before the ice turns into snow.

Descend with 2 double-rope rappels from the 4th and 2nd belays.

Gear: Camalots to #3, maybe a few pins, screws including stubbies, 12 draws including some extendables and 60 m ropes.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A slice of the unknown

Image
I step from a luxurious belay ledge onto a steep, prickly slab. The slab is undercut just beneath my feet: a rock dropped from here might hit the distant orange spot of my pack at the base of the wall. I clip a bolt. Wait, what, a bolt? By this point Alik and I expected to be traveling across untouched rock. Five years earlier Alik, Ian and Nino climbed three pitches of the line we're attempting, but we've already passed their highpoint. It seemed unlikely that anyone else should've wandered up to this obscure face, overshadowed by the bigger, better known north faces of Ha Ling Peak to the north and Mount Lawrence Grassi to the south. And yet a bolted anchor four pitches up makes it clear we're not the first people up here. The slings on the anchor suggest the mystery climbers rappelled off, but then the bolt I've just clipped hints they might also have finished the route. We don't know. I shuffle further left, stuff a cam under an overlap, and turn my attentio
Read more

Give 'Im Enough Rope

Image
January 2016. The Scottish International Winter Meet. Perhaps just to make the international visitors appreciate the fickle nature of Scottish winter climbing, the first few days of the gathering were either too warm, too rainy or both. Rather than take our gear for a walk in the wet, windy hills, we went drytooling in the guts of Newtyle Quarry and rock climbing on the shores of the North Sea. Then a morning dawned with clear skies and below-freezing temperatures. A thousand and one teams drove up the road to the Aviemore ski area and stomped across half-frozen bogs to to the Northern Corries.  A thick layer of hoar frost grew on the walls of Coire an Lochain. As I understood the quirky ethics of Scottish winter climbing, this was considered a good thing. Coming from the cold, dry Canadian Rockies, I was more used to waiting after a storm until wind and gravity had cleared the rock of snow, but hey, when in Rome, do as the locals do. My introduction to Scottish mixed climbing was The
Read more

The Hand of God

Image
1982. On April 2, Argentine forces invaded and occupied the Falkland Islands (aka Las Malvinas), and the next day South Georgia, British islands that Argentina considered its rightful territory. Just three days later, Britain dispatched an expeditionary force to take back what had been a British colony for over a century. In the end, British aircraft carriers and Harrier jets prevailed, and after nearly a thousand people died, the islands returned to British control. History doesn't record if the king penguins and elephant seals inhabiting South Georgia were consulted about which country they'd like to live in. Given how humans have treated other species from time immemorial, it seems unlikely. *** 1986. On June 22, Argentina and England were playing in the quarter-finals of the FIFA World Cup in Mexico City. The match was still goalless when, a few minutes into the second half, Diego Maradona leapt for the ball that had been cleared towards the English goalie. However, instead
Read more