Echo Tower Solo

Hi fellow 14er members! This is not a trip report for information as much as I was just wanting to write for artistic purposes and share it. It wont be helpful or related to anything but I always love reading reports on here so here is my contribution in return to all the incredible work and effort you all put into trip reports on here! Its also just helpful for me to write in my personal life so here it is! Feedback is welcome!

Everyone handles a breakup differently. Some people cry, some people fuck and some dive into the depths of Netflix in a dark bedroom. I've done my fair share of crying and Netflix binging, but my mind always wanders to the possibilities of a big solo climb at the edge of my abilities.
We broke up over the phone on a windy Saturday under moody skies as a storm approached the Salt Lake Valley. It was pathetic and we both felt love but also a lack of control of the situation. The flame of our relationship burned bright and hot which never changed but the addition of distance and unchecked mental health made the flame flicker. Anxiety and sadness filled my body and mind and the only thing that felt right was to throw myself into the planning of an epic adventure for the next weekend to one of the most infamous and feared places in the desert, the Fisher Towers.
Work dragged on and on Friday afternoon as my fully packed Subaru waited patiently at the office. I told my coworkers about the climb I was planning but they didn't understand. Finally, it was time to hit the road and I drove the familiar 4 hours to the Fisher Towers trailhead where just a year before I had taken the love of my life on a surprise picknick date. She arrived late at night to find me with freshly cooked salmon, asparagus and a bottle of red wine overlooking the mighty silhouettes of the Fisher Towers among the night sky. She smiled endlessly. Here in the same parking spot, I threw the remainder of my gear together for the next day, then passed out in bed without brushing my teeth.

My alarm went off at 4:45am but I wasn't sleepy. I was focused and executed each ritualistic part of my morning routine on the edge of a flow state, occasionally giggling to myself, fully knowing what I was getting myself into. My backpack weighed approximately 100 pounds containing two ropes, an absurd amount of gear, water, layers and food for the day. My stoke made it feel light as I shouldered the behemoth and hiked away from the car on the popular Fisher towers trail at exactly 5am.
The approach began slowly as expected and the weight of the pack caught up with me. Normally a load such as this would be comfortably divided by two or three climbers but carrying it all on my own was a small price to pay for the empowering luxury of climbing alone in a place as spectacular as this. As I rounded a corner, I could see the outline of the tower and it was impressive as ever, beckoning me to suffer on its overhanging mud walls.
Echo Tower is one of the five major towers in the Fishers and despite being only 500 feet tall it is no slouch. Every route is steep, sustained and of course, sketchy. Sometimes its sketchier than others as the Fisher Towers mud goes through cycles similar to the way ice forms. New mud will drip down its walls making climbing and placing protection exceedingly difficult. This mostly depends on the amount of precipitation in the preceding months which makes fall the best time of year for climbing these wild monsters. Echo Tower received its name due to the fact that it hears and repeats any sounds uttered in the deep gorge below it. I shouted a few times and it responded with a sharp and eerie echo. I broke off the main trail and hiked up the steep embankments through the night and towards the tower that had occupied much space in my mind.
My first scare of the day came while navigating a sandy loose 4th class rock band with my massive pack. Not wanting to unbury the rope from the bottom of my pack and fix a line, I just went as carefully as possible, but still felt extremely insecure. It’s hard to say if the 30 minutes I saved was worth it, probably not. I carefully scrambled over a hanging talus field and tromped up mud to the base of the route with the faintest hints of light in the sky.

Pitch one is the longest pitch of the route at about 190' long full of very physical but mostly very straightforward aid climbing with a short free crux in the center. After sorting out the semantics of my rope soloing system I set off. I’m finally climbing! It was terrific and I was making good time and feeling very optimistic. I completed the long and tiring first pitch, then fixed the rope. It was my first major victory of the day. I celebrated by descending quickly back to the ground knowing I didn’t have time to waste. I jugged up my fixed line with a second rope and a small backpack containing 3 liters of water a burrito, half a sandwich, several bars, some emergency gear and layers. I reset and the anchor, put myself on belay and started working my way higher onto the wall of Echo Tower.

By now sunlight had fully illuminated the desert around me. The exposure began to grow around me and the wildness of my position finally started to sink in. Kingfisher, a stunning and proud tower stood across the gorge from me and I saw a party begin to work their way up it. The northeast ridge of Kingfisher is the easiest route to the summit of any major Fisher Tower, hence it is the most popular for those venturing beyond the one and only "classic" in the area Ancient Art. Ancient Art is not one of the five major towers but it is the only safe and moderate climb in the Fishers. It is truly incredible however I had climbed it many times before and it is not the experience I wanted. I could hear numerous people summiting the formation as they screamed out above the desert. I hate climbing culture. I might as well have been on a different planet from them. Echo Tower is obscure and neglected, I was glad to have it all to myself.
Transitioning to pitch two was when I became completely intellectually engaged with the task at hand. It was physically hard work but mentally complex to come up with efficient and safe solutions to problems I encountered whether it was climbing difficulties or kinks in my rope soloing set up. Fortunately, the second pitch was easy and therefore went fast. I was feeling confident at the end of that pitch. I once again built and anchor, fixed my lead line and rapped down to my previous anchor.
Noon was quickly approaching and I had a lot of work to do. I did everything as efficiently as I could, but it was taking longer than I had hoped. Whatever, I brought a headlamp. But this is when I had to start digging deep. I wanted to fix the ropes and go down, sleep in my car and finish the route on Sunday. That would be the casual way to do it but I had chores to do in Grand Junction and then the entire drive back to Salt Lake City for work early on Monday morning. It was now or next weekend and the suffering I knew I was in for to reach the summit was nothing compared to the feelings of the breakup. I pressed on, curious about how the massive traverse of pitch three would pan out.
Offset cams and nuts made quick work of the atrocious blown out pin scars and before I knew it I was atop pitch three at the third consecutive hanging belay. Some accounts describe pitch three as the crux aid climbing of the route which I would disagree with because I believe that distinction belongs to pitch four. But for a solo ascent of this route, the pitch three traverse poses the issue of how to safely remove the gear and reascend to the base of pitch four. As far as the rope soloing systems go, I would call this the crux but I was stoked for it and had a plan!

With a partner, the rope would be fixed and the follower would simply jug and follow the traverse. Alone it would be slightly more complicated. I pulled the rope up until I could feel it snug up against the last piece that I tension traversed off of and fixed it to my current anchor at the bottom of pitch four. As I rappelled, I strategically removed some gear to save myself the work when I was ascending and temporarily fixed the rope to a point that I planned to do a lower out off of. I left a few more pieces in place to line me up with the lower anchor, then cleaned the rest. Now back at the bottom anchor I transitioned into ascension mode with my two jumars and started to jug. The slick thing about how I rigged it was that the dead line of the figure 8 knot that I had fixed was clipped to me the entire time and now I attached my Microtraction to it, serving as my backup knot in case something were to go wrong while jugging and doing a lower out on the dubious muddy gear placements. After removing the remainder of the gear I had now arrived at the lower out point. Benefitting from my previous planning, I efficiently clipped into the fixed nuts, passed them with my jumars, fed a loop through and lowered myself about 30 feet to the right until I was directly below the anchor where my ropes were fixed. I proudly pulled the slack through and jugged a straight line up to my anchor.

I was doing well on time but I knew the crux was ahead of me. The anchor was made up of one fixed piton and three poor quality bolts. They seemed to growl at me, showing their muddy fangs and tempting me to fall and test their strength but I had no intention of doing so. However, it was challenging to equalize them in an upward orientation so that they could hold a potential fall later in the pitch. I stacked my lead rope in my backpack and hung it from an extra piton on the wall. Then coiled my second rope on a sling so it would feed out well and come with me, allowing it to be used later so I wouldn’t need to come back to this point until I had successfully reached the summit. I changed into my rock shoes and then was ready to go! The moves off the anchor were tense knowing there was potential for a potentially life ending fall in this area. I made my first aid placement and vigorously bounce tested it. Fortunately, it passed the test and received a clove hitch to keep the anchor equalized and oriented in an upwards direction. I then reached down and placed a small, bomber cam which extended to support the clove hitched piece. Once I got a few more pieced between me and the anchor I felt my safety system was satisfactory in keeping me comfortably connected to the tower.

The aid climbing was dirty and there was some fresh mud which I excavated with my nut tool. I made a series of finicky placements to allow me up ward progress until I could free climb and mantle up onto muddy crumbling ledge. After making a small nest of good gear I continued to aid up easy but heady fractures in the sandstone until I was able to traverse right to a wide crack, the free climbing crux of the route. Knowing that I needed to link this pitch with the next to make it to the summit before dark, I removed all the extra carabiners from the remainder of the cams I had for the easy bolt ladder on the next pitch. (This works well since rope drag is never an issue with soloing because the rope doesn’t really move through the gear.) I hung the rack I wouldn’t need on my last piece and quested into the offwidth. It was secure but physical and runout for the 5.9 grade but I was in a steady flow state and felt confident in my movement. It was a beautiful section of the climb and I was having fun! I continued onto the first good ledge I had stood on all day but didn’t waste time enjoying it. I sprinted up the C0 bolt ladder leaving single carabiners on the strong bolts and before I knew it, I was at the anchor on the summit ridge!

I wasted no time, anchoring what had been my main rope to this point since it was already hanging in the direction that I would rappel in. I quickly pulled up my second rope and put myself on belay for the last pitch which I had been excited about since I started climbing in the Fishers! There was no protection but I didn’t need any or want it. I walked across a ledge to an airy prow and made several 5.6 moves in definite no fall terrain. The exposure was extravagant as I pulled over the top of the prow and straddled it with a leg on each side. The summit was only 20 feet ahead of me and a few feet above. I looked at it smiling, enjoying the unencumbered movement and staring straight ahead to one of the most spectacular sunsets the desert has to offer. I scooted across the sharp arete and envisioned myself as a cowboy riding Echo Tower. A few more easy moves led to a perfect summit perch where I could see every major tower in the Fishers. I love this place! I peered to my left to see the full length of The Titan (tallest tower in the Fishers) where I had stood on its wild summit last fall. I took a few quick pictures and since there are no anchors on the summit, I began downclimbing the protection-less 5.6 pitch down to the last anchor where I would rappel. My celebration would come in the form of a safe descent. I reversed the moves and got back to my last anchor.

With a sense of urgency I immediately set up a double rope rappel and descended all the way back to my last anchor at the top of pitch three, cleaning my gear from the wall as I went. I pulled my ropes for the first time and by headlamp started preparing the next rappel heading straight down instead of taking the traverse that I ascended. The rest of the rappels were fast and easy. Then I was back on the ground! Not looking forward to this next part I coiled my ropes and haphazardly threw my disorganized gear into my pack. I dumped out a small amount of extra water because I knew my knees would appreciate it and then began the hike out as my headlamp began to die.

The hike out was heavy but enjoyable because I could finally safely savor the days accomplishment. For the first time in weeks, my mind didn’t race. I felt peaceful and stopped regularly to rest and enjoy the vast expanse of stars stretched out above me. I was quiet and thought about the important people in my life. I always look forward to sharing these types of adventures with them.
The drive back to Salt Lake City was a somber one. I do not have any more answers to my life problems than I did before the climb. I’m not a better person and I didn’t help anyone. I do however feel proud and a little more peaceful. I haven’t yet been able to figure out what this climb meant for me but I don’t need to. I am still just a small, confused person searching for meaning in the world in the ways I know how. My mind occasionally flashes back to the view I witnessed as I rode the wildly exposed summit ridge of Echo Tower into the sunset and I feel a grin crawl across my face, I earned that feeling.