North Maroon Peak Trip Report 03/19/2015

Report Type	Full
Peak(s)	North Maroon Peak - 14,022 feet
Date Posted	03/19/2015
Modified	01/12/2023
Date Climbed	03/19/2015
Author	blazintoes

Dance with the one that brung ya
Sometimes life is kind and sometimes the mountain Gods are equally as kind. This is a story about two crazy making mountaineers who were consumed by one winter project; climb North Maroon in winter under our own human power in one solid push. We pondered, is this feat possible and if so, how? This single minded determination can feel like walking a narrow line between life and death. Perhaps this is the reason we subject ourselves to such horror; knowing and accepting that death is a possibility. A sort of dance with the devil. My spare time this winter was spent researching winter ascents of the Maroon Bells however, the resource of most value was my dearest friend and climbing partner Tony Angelis. This would be Tony's 100th ascent of the Maroon Bells but nary a one day winter attempt, which motivated me to curry his favor in an ingratiating manner. To be successful at this mission we must be wholly committed, confident in each other and proceed with caution. Every opportunity has a shelf life and after several training missions to sort out gear, assess responsibilities and improve fitness our shelf life was about to expire so on the very last day of winter we set out at midnight March 19th up the Maroon Creek road closed down by the T Lazy 7 ranch due to avalanche danger with a sign warning to proceed at risk. With the recent 5-7" of fresh deposited snow, the avalanche forecast was moderate with the likelihood of large wet slab avalanches and lingering danger on north slopes at upper elevations. Travel on this terrain is safest when cold and dark. Unorthodox new mountaineering is light and fast, which entertains the idea of one day big mountain attempts. If successful this expedition would be a 6,700foot climb in 22 miles. Festooned with packs consisting of a myriad of winter gear weighing in at 40 pounds for me and 55 for Tony, few words were spoken on the two hour trek to the tea shack. The temperature was 28 degrees, cold and cloudy turning that road into supportable packed snow. At the tea shack still light hearted but determined we quickly replenished, stashed some return gear and began navigating in new moon blackness toward Minnehaha gulch. I laid down a track on my GPS for reference if the need be. The snow is lunarscape from the recent rains. There are some old ski tracks but no foot tracks. Tony's scouting mission via snow shoe a week prior is faintly evident. We followed the Maroon Snowmass trail to Carter lake and at 10,800' pass the Sleeping Sexton and cross Minnehaha creek. Before our final traverse up and left along prominent shelves we turn on our avalanche transceivers. Finally, our last navigational challenge was to find the shallowest climb through the last bunch of trees, which leads to the base of the snow bowl on Maroon's north face. Her Dudeness,, or El Duderina, if you’re not into the whole brevity thing In this snow bowl we get a long hard stare at the north face and travel up toward the snow bowl can feel like going up on a down escalator. Never ending. A seven hour effort now. The north face has three distinct features. First a cliff band; a long snow field stretching across the face; aka Miners Ski Jump. The second feature along this cliff band, bisects the north face direct route and finally the third feature is a narrow couloir rising at the far right of this cliff band hidden from view while initially approaching the base. This gully is an unacceptable route in summer, however in winter with a max angle of 48 degrees and firm snow is a fastidious approach to North Maroons northwest ridge; aka Gunsight Ridge. The early morning clouds have cleared, the sun is up and is such a welcomed companion on our cold faces. Our gear change and snack break here in the snow bowl put us slightly behind schedule and we worry about the couloir conditions. Recent avalanche occurrence is apparent. Strikes and gutters, ups and downs I feel powerful as I slam my toe and axe blades into the perfect snow. How I've missed my crampons and BD Venom icetool. Tony says let's take 27 steps then switch trail breaking duties and I ask, why 27? Isn't that how many days it takes to make or break a habit? He simply likes the number. We sing songs like Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds" and Pure Prairie Leagues' "Amie" while gliding up the north couloir and hugging the right edge close enough to avoid the bergschrunds. After exiting the couloir we hear a "crack!" Our hearts stop because we know this isn't a jet overhead, which often sounds initially like the breaking of an avalanche. This was serious. Singing commences as we begin a treacherous winding along the western flank of North Maroon while making a series of climbing traverses that eventually intersect the crest of the southwest corner of the summit. Our route seemed logical and never along the ridge crest proper where the rock is loose. There was a moment where Tony asked me to jump up and take a look at the final west ridge. I see vertical fractured rock with no bail outs and tell him that route makes my stomach churn so we turn north and find one enigmatic crux puzzle. Technical climbing is unnerving with crampons and a 40 pound gorilla on my back. The final 600 feet to go was an attempt to Shanghai the moment. With blue sky above in the kaleidoscopic spindrift and below unconsolidated snow with a thin ice layer on top of unstable rocks it is liken to a ruthless cheerful underminer. We have pushed our mental and physical limits. Everything was smooth until this point. We are punching through knee and sometimes waist deep snow. Once I punched through so hard that my entire weight and then some slammed my left heel into a rock below and sent sharp pains all along my Achilles. I crawled out of this hole and thought I'd crawl the rest of the way to the summit if I had to but at last, on two feet we both summited together with the full brevity of life. Caption Here A wave of emotions from the highest high to the lowest low that cannot fit into a box overwhelmed me. Completely and utterly exhausted from an 11 hour push so far. If I closed my eyes I'd fall fast asleep. We layer up, snack and take a long break on the summit. Mountains are at their best while snow covered. Their features more pronounced, their solitude more resolute. However, this imaginative adventure is only halfway complete. The Maroon Bells are treasured by their inimitable beauty, feared for their unforgiving quality. Descending mountains on foot is my unfortunate weakness. However, I have a world class mentor in Tony who is patient and kind. I'd rather flyaway in a wing suit but someday like him, I will coast with grace. We retrace our steps easily to the first crux. I find a good hand jam and tip toe my blades on one solid purchase and with success decide the down climb was more enjoyable. Now we negotiate the descending traverse with our faces inward and a look between the legs for footing. A true neck breaking task. Our axes stick with the occasional nothingness while they thunk into rock. A no fall zone. Caption Here Bells, always better with snow Nature is harsh, unforgiving and random. The crack we heard earlier was somewhere down in the death bowl. Looking below at the north couloir now Iwish we had an animal sentinel, like a canary in a coal mine. How about a mountain goat in an avalanche chute. Go on little buddy, I'll see you at the bottom...mmm, maybe. Tony tells me a self-arrest on this particular type of show would prove difficult so we will glissade in controlled short segments one at a time. Then he says, do you know what makes glissading enjoyable, goggles, do you know what I forgot? Uh huh. We batten down the hatches and he goes first. I am petrified as this will be my first steep glissade. I realize I'm at a huge disadvantage being small with a heavy pack and small upper body. Digging the blade with all my might is exhausting. The first and second segment go well but I am already fatigued. I pause long enough on the third segment for Tony to question, Amy do you want to come down? ...no... Amy, are you having fun? ...no....My whiney pitchy voice made him laugh, so I laughed. Scared out of my mind, I press on. Eventually the couloir shallows and we let 'er rip. Safe in the death bowl we realize where the crack occurred; on the cliff bands of Sleeping Sextons east face. This rock fall caused a shock wave strong enough that the Gunsights couloir had a mini avalanche. Despite the clearing of clouds and midday sun the wind kept the ground cold and we were able to walk out without snow shoes. Completely safe away from the death bowl we decide to take time to melt snow and brew tea and bouillon for our long footslog back to the tea shack. The sun is low and ready to set behind the Sleeping Sexton as Tony shouts out, happy spring! Our successful climb up and down North Maroon on this final day of winter and a solemn snow shoe odyssey out at the beginning of spring along with Tony's 100th ascent and my first winter Bell is reason to celebrate but, the 3 miles back to the tea shack followed by one final push on that blasted road is looming. The snow in the trees is occasionally soft as we punch through but the final 200 yard dash to the tea shack was comical land mine of 3 good steps, 5punch throughs. Post holing in snow shoes after a long day can really piss me off but somehow I am slap happy. After a long break at the tea shack and some sloppy reorganization we are finally ready to tackle the last 6 miles out. We are under a moonless night as the stars beamed bright. He's chirpy, I am vocal fry. He prances ahead knowing I like these moments alone. I am perfectly lonely listening to my shallow breath and my beating heart churning up the viscous dehydrated blood. Alone with my simple thoughts because I am mind numb after a solid20 hour effort thus far. Soon we'll be back at the cars and fall into a deep slumber... Thumbnails for uploaded photos (click to open slideshow):

Dance with the one that brung ya

Sometimes life is kind and sometimes the mountain Gods are equally as kind. This is a story about two crazy making mountaineers who were consumed by one winter project; climb North Maroon in winter under our own human power in one solid push. We pondered, is this feat possible and if so, how? This single minded determination can feel like walking a narrow line between life and death. Perhaps this is the reason we subject ourselves to such horror; knowing and accepting that death is a possibility. A sort of dance with the devil.

My spare time this winter was spent researching winter ascents of the Maroon Bells however, the resource of most value was my dearest friend and climbing partner Tony Angelis. This would be Tony's 100th ascent of the Maroon Bells but nary a one day winter attempt, which motivated me to curry his favor in an ingratiating manner. To be successful at this mission we must be wholly committed, confident in each other and proceed with caution. Every opportunity has a shelf life and after several training missions to sort out gear, assess responsibilities and improve fitness our shelf life was about to expire so on the very last day of winter we set out at midnight March 19th up the Maroon Creek road closed down by the T Lazy 7 ranch due to avalanche danger with a sign warning to proceed at risk. With the recent 5-7" of fresh deposited snow, the avalanche forecast was moderate with the likelihood of large wet slab avalanches and lingering danger on north slopes at upper elevations. Travel on this terrain is safest when cold and dark.

Unorthodox new mountaineering is light and fast, which entertains the idea of one day big mountain attempts. If successful this expedition would be a 6,700foot climb in 22 miles. Festooned with packs consisting of a myriad of winter gear weighing in at 40 pounds for me and 55 for Tony, few words were spoken on the two hour trek to the tea shack. The temperature was 28 degrees, cold and cloudy turning that road into supportable packed snow. At the tea shack still light hearted but determined we quickly replenished, stashed some return gear and began navigating in new moon blackness toward Minnehaha gulch. I laid down a track on my GPS for reference if the need be. The snow is lunarscape from the recent rains. There are some old ski tracks but no foot tracks. Tony's scouting mission via snow shoe a week prior is faintly evident. We followed the Maroon Snowmass trail to Carter lake and at 10,800' pass the Sleeping Sexton and cross Minnehaha creek. Before our final traverse up and left along prominent shelves we turn on our avalanche transceivers. Finally, our last navigational challenge was to find the shallowest climb through the last bunch of trees, which leads to the base of the snow bowl on Maroon's north face.

21886_02 — Her Dudeness,, or El Duderina, if you’re not into the whole brevity thing

In this snow bowl we get a long hard stare at the north face and travel up toward the snow bowl can feel like going up on a down escalator. Never ending. A seven hour effort now. The north face has three distinct features. First a cliff band; a long snow field stretching across the face; aka Miners Ski Jump. The second feature along this cliff band, bisects the north face direct route and finally the third feature is a narrow couloir rising at the far right of this cliff band hidden from view while initially approaching the base. This gully is an unacceptable route in summer, however in winter with a max angle of 48 degrees and firm snow is a fastidious approach to North Maroons northwest ridge; aka Gunsight Ridge.

The early morning clouds have cleared, the sun is up and is such a welcomed companion on our cold faces. Our gear change and snack break here in the snow bowl put us slightly behind schedule and we worry about the couloir conditions. Recent avalanche occurrence is apparent.

21886_01 — Strikes and gutters, ups and downs

I feel powerful as I slam my toe and axe blades into the perfect snow. How I've missed my crampons and BD Venom icetool. Tony says let's take 27 steps then switch trail breaking duties and I ask, why 27? Isn't that how many days it takes to make or break a habit? He simply likes the number. We sing songs like Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds" and Pure Prairie Leagues' "Amie" while gliding up the north couloir and hugging the right edge close enough to avoid the bergschrunds.

After exiting the couloir we hear a "crack!" Our hearts stop because we know this isn't a jet overhead, which often sounds initially like the breaking of an avalanche. This was serious. Singing commences as we begin a treacherous winding along the western flank of North Maroon while making a series of climbing traverses that eventually intersect the crest of the southwest corner of the summit. Our route seemed logical and never along the ridge crest proper where the rock is loose. There was a moment where Tony asked me to jump up and take a look at the final west ridge. I see vertical fractured rock with no bail outs and tell him that route makes my stomach churn so we turn north and find one enigmatic crux puzzle. Technical climbing is unnerving with crampons and a 40 pound gorilla on my back. The final 600 feet to go was an attempt to Shanghai the moment. With blue sky above in the kaleidoscopic spindrift and below unconsolidated snow with a thin ice layer on top of unstable rocks it is liken to a ruthless cheerful underminer. We have pushed our mental and physical limits. Everything was smooth until this point. We are punching through knee and sometimes waist deep snow. Once I punched through so hard that my entire weight and then some slammed my left heel into a rock below and sent sharp pains all along my Achilles. I crawled out of this hole and thought I'd crawl the rest of the way to the summit if I had to but at last, on two feet we both summited together with the full brevity of life.

A wave of emotions from the highest high to the lowest low that cannot fit into a box overwhelmed me. Completely and utterly exhausted from an 11 hour push so far. If I closed my eyes I'd fall fast asleep. We layer up, snack and take a long break on the summit. Mountains are at their best while snow covered. Their features more pronounced, their solitude more resolute. However, this imaginative adventure is only halfway complete. The Maroon Bells are treasured by their inimitable beauty, feared for their unforgiving quality. Descending mountains on foot is my unfortunate weakness. However, I have a world class mentor in Tony who is patient and kind. I'd rather flyaway in a wing suit but someday like him, I will coast with grace. We retrace our steps easily to the first crux. I find a good hand jam and tip toe my blades on one solid purchase and with success decide the down climb was more enjoyable. Now we negotiate the descending traverse with our faces inward and a look between the legs for footing. A true neck breaking task. Our axes stick with the occasional nothingness while they thunk into rock. A no fall zone.

21886_03 — Bells, always better with snow

Nature is harsh, unforgiving and random. The crack we heard earlier was somewhere down in the death bowl. Looking below at the north couloir now Iwish we had an animal sentinel, like a canary in a coal mine. How about a mountain goat in an avalanche chute. Go on little buddy, I'll see you at the bottom...mmm, maybe. Tony tells me a self-arrest on this particular type of show would prove difficult so we will glissade in controlled short segments one at a time. Then he says, do you know what makes glissading enjoyable, goggles, do you know what I forgot? Uh huh. We batten down the hatches and he goes first. I am petrified as this will be my first steep glissade. I realize I'm at a huge disadvantage being small with a heavy pack and small upper body. Digging the blade with all my might is exhausting. The first and second segment go well but I am already fatigued. I pause long enough on the third segment for Tony to question, Amy do you want to come down? ...no... Amy, are you having fun? ...no....My whiney pitchy voice made him laugh, so I laughed. Scared out of my mind, I press on. Eventually the couloir shallows and we let 'er rip. Safe in the death bowl we realize where the crack occurred; on the cliff bands of Sleeping Sextons east face. This rock fall caused a shock wave strong enough that the Gunsights couloir had a mini avalanche. Despite the clearing of clouds and midday sun the wind kept the ground cold and we were able to walk out without snow shoes.

Completely safe away from the death bowl we decide to take time to melt snow and brew tea and bouillon for our long footslog back to the tea shack. The sun is low and ready to set behind the Sleeping Sexton as Tony shouts out, happy spring! Our successful climb up and down North Maroon on this final day of winter and a solemn snow shoe odyssey out at the beginning of spring along with Tony's 100th ascent and my first winter Bell is reason to celebrate but, the 3 miles back to the tea shack followed by one final push on that blasted road is looming.

The snow in the trees is occasionally soft as we punch through but the final 200 yard dash to the tea shack was comical land mine of 3 good steps, 5punch throughs. Post holing in snow shoes after a long day can really piss me off but somehow I am slap happy.

After a long break at the tea shack and some sloppy reorganization we are finally ready to tackle the last 6 miles out. We are under a moonless night as the stars beamed bright. He's chirpy, I am vocal fry. He prances ahead knowing I like these moments alone. I am perfectly lonely listening to my shallow breath and my beating heart churning up the viscous dehydrated blood. Alone with my simple thoughts because I am mind numb after a solid20 hour effort thus far. Soon we'll be back at the cars and fall into a deep slumber...

Thumbnails for uploaded photos (click to open slideshow):

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