| Mt. Toccllaraju, Northeast Ridge, UIAA D July 2000 The progress up the slope was slow, slow, slow. The altitude was working against us, as usual, and my partner, Jeff, wasn't feeling too good. We weren't sure if it was early signs if AMS or just your garden variety virus, but he was feeling really under the weather. we got about 2 hours into the hike and stopped for a water break. "We should discuss our options," he said, "Cause me not going up is certainly one of them." Shit, I thought, that really sucks. So we talked about what to do... we had heard that the normal route, the Northwest Ridge, was eminently soloable, so if he went down it didn't mean the end of my peak, but it certainly changed the landscape of the climb. Anyway long story (not-so) short, Jeff decided that he better head down and sit this one out. I offered to join him down, but he declined, so we exchanged some gear and he headed down and I up. I was bummed about not getting to do the climb with him, but stubborn as I am was intent on giving it a go. Once I got to high camp I found a spot to sleep and managed to convince some Colombian climbers to let me join their rope team. I actually only was worried about getting across the 'schrund, the first crux of the route, but they offered to let me tag along for the whole route. Nice. 2am came all too early and we were off. The beginning of the climb saw a series of beautiful events that I wish I could have caught on film. First, as we were walking up the moon was almost completely full. The light was so brilliant we trudged along with our headlamps off, reminiscent of a similar experience I had on a much smaller Mt Sinai in Egypt. As we worked along, the moon moved closer to the horizon and as it set took on a pinkish reddish hue. As it dropped below the line of peaks across from us it took my breath away, gaining more and more color as it disappeared. Once gone, though, the tapestry of amazing South American stars was able to reveal itself in its full splendor. Not only was the sky full of stars amazing, but they were totally foreign. I looked for the Southern Cross and admired new and different constellations. Soon it was the sun's turn to make an appearance. For this part of the climb we were in a sort of bowl, with the ridge rising on one side and the further peaks of the Cordillera rising across. So as the sun rose, the sky seemed to brighten all around us simultaneously, showing these incredible colors, blacks, blues, purples and lavenders as the sky lightened up. It was so amazing, I hardly noticed the work of climbing. Somewhere during all this spectacle we came to the first crux, a short gully of 70 degree snow that we needed to climb to get up and over the bergshrund. The first move was interesting because it had been so beaten out by other climbers, but once into the gully the placements were totally bomber and secure. I got back into the groove of ice climbing and really enjoyed myself, realizing how much I missed that aspect of the sport in the short time since winter. Up and over the schrund and we were on to the main ridge. The climb between the schrund and the summit mushroom was steep but very straightforward. We followed the tracks of those that had gone before us...but somehow got off route. I kept thinking, we want to be on the ridge...but I was the second person on the rope and was kindof imposing on the rope team anyway, so I mostly kept my mouth shut. At one point we realized that we were off route and started to descend a steep slope down and across to where we thought the route was. Amazing how things can go from perfect to nearly disastrous in the blink of an eye. One minute I was reveling in the beauty of the sky and the next I had slipped into a tiny crevasse, maybe three feet deep. The fall caught my downhill leg and momentum tossed my body down and to the left, bending my knee into an angle that it is most definitely *not* supposed to be. I managed to right myself and crouched on the slope, in pain and fear that I had really screwed up my knew. Just what I need, I thought, a trip ending injury already. I momentarily thought that my leg might be broken, but was more convinced that I'd done some serious ligament damage...torn ACL's are almost as common as snow in the mountains. I still am not sure what I did to my knee, but there was nowhere to go but up. We found the main route and started moving up toward the summit. Some good steep snow climbing and soon we were at the summit mushroom, with about 80 meters of steep (70 degree) snow to negotiate to the top. This we did in very poor form as we tried to belay climb with three on our rope team with uneven spacing and all sorts of garbage. The climbing was really easy and fun, and I learned for once and all that the team I was climbing with was not as experience in the technical details as I had thought. So I started to take charge, getting us into simul mode and pushing us for the summit. Lo and behold, soon we were up on the top of the mushroom, and realized that we faced only a short traverse to the real summit. Here we had a lousy interaction with a Belgian climber. One of my partners was a Colombian woman who hadn't done much technical climbing and struggled a bit on the last steep section. This Belgian guy was terribly impatient and basically climbed *over* and around her to pass her at the crux, crossing their ropes with ours, scaring her, and generally creating a dangerous situation where none needed to exist. He gained all of about 3 minutes, as she was near the end of the slope and the top. I was tired and generally annoyed at him, and basically told him so...what he did was unsafe and uncool. He got really pissed, mostly because he knew that what I said was true and he was embarrassed. We later learned that he was a guide in his former life and had lost his nose and fingers on Everest. Was he a hardman I had no business bitching at or just another climber with lousy judgement? You decide. Anyway, determined not to let their lousiness spoil our summit experience we wandered up to the summit and sat down to take pictures and celebrate. Amazing views, new friends, great peaks. A great climb all around, even if Jeff couldn't do it with me. The way down was slow and painful. As we started negotiating the rappels, I further realized the Colombians inexperience. I didn't have to teach them how to rappel, but pretty close. I forget how much experience big wall climbing has transferred to those kind of conditions for me. Anyway, we made it down without incident, and I staggered back into camp to regale my partner and other friends with my success before collapsing into the tent for some much needed rest.
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