Growth in the Mountains and Class 3 Climbing

A brief summary:

• I think this write-up may be valuable for anyone who is thinking of venturing into slightly more technical terrain on their 14er adventures or for someone who may be fearful of heights and exposure and unsure of what to expect or how to progress
• Exploring the benefit of experienced partners when starting into Class 3 (C3) terrain
• Some cool and unique shots from Wetterhorn

Well, it’s February… No, it's now March. The perfect time to write a trip report for a fall climb.

I swear I had most of this written a couple of weeks after the trip, but alas, life and work crept up, and priorities were reshuffled. Now yearning for the warm summer months and the scrambling it affords, I’ve recommitted myself to reflecting on my favorite day in the mountains and sharing those thoughts with you all. While I focus on my specific climb of Wetterhorn this fall, I also wanted to write this with some context for someone who may be in the position I was a couple of years ago, not knowing whether they can manage or overcome a fear of heights while climbing these mountains.

As a kid and teenager, I was relatively petrified of heights. Growing up in the Chicago area, playing team sports didn’t afford many opportunities to face this fear. So, in 2021, when I spent a gap year in the Vail Valley and climbed Quandary as my first 14er, I was wigged out by the feeling of being above everything around me. I loved the hike and knew at the time the anxiety I was feeling wasn’t warranted, yet it was still present. Two years later, I hiked Bierstadt and had the perfect experience and no unfounded fear. At this point, I decided I loved being in the high alpine moving through the mountains and committed myself to work through my exposure sensitivity.

The following summer, I wrote my first trip report after going up “Into Thick Air on Mt. Blue Sky”, summited Grays and Torreys with my father, and went up Mt. Yale for my birthday. I was hooked, but still very uncertain as all of these routes have very little, if any, exposure.

At this same time, I became relatively obsessed with the Keyhole route up Longs Peak and set it as a goal for the following summer. I spent the next summer continuing to logically progress through routes, walking closer and closer to areas of exposure to hopefully become more comfortable. The Ridge of North Star Mountain, outside of Breckenridge, provided a great "hike" with some moderate exposure along its long and flat summit ridge. It was at this point that I felt there may be a chance I had turned a corner, and the exposure on routes was becoming enjoyable and interesting. Following this, the next routes undertaken were my first forays into C3-ish terrain (Castle/Conundrum and Father Dyer), both done with partners. Both were highly enjoyable days out with no concerns. All of this led up to this past September and my long-awaited goal, and just over a year after climbing Yale, I summited Long’s Peak with a great friend and adventure buddy. It was by far my favorite day I had spent in the mountains. The exposure was never scary for me, just fun.

At this point, I began to think about what was next… I hadn’t planned for this! I seriously never thought I would climb Longs. Surrendering myself to the thought that Longs was my last scramble of the summer/fall, I was ecstatic when I saw a “climbing connection” post on the .com from Joe (“KeepClimbing”), reaching out to see if he could convince a person or two to go up Wetterhorn with him. When David ("Daway8") chimed in and committed to this jaunt, I realized that I would be a fool if I didn’t reach out to see if I could tag along with two people who were FAR more experienced in the mountains than I was. Joe was nearing the end of his list, and David was nearly done with his second round of 14ers!

Both guys were happy to have me join them, and on the Saturday morning of 9/28, we set off from the lower Matterhorn Creek Trailhead. We set out around dawn, and the approach trail to the saddle and subsequent ridge flew past. This is truly a great bang-for-your-buck route, as everyone says. Before long, we were donning our helmets and prepping for some more interesting terrain. It was at this point that David turned to me and said, “I think this would be a great opportunity for you to get some route-finding experience”.

A bit hesitant but aware that David was entirely right, I made my way to the front of the group and began the walk toward the very obvious rock rib in the route description. Making our way up the shallow gully and through the “V” notch was quick and intuitive, and I managed to snap this glamor shot of the guys in the notch.

The route finding was pretty straightforward, and after dropping through the notch and traversing some ledges, we were in the gully directly under the Prow. In preparation for this climb, which included lots of studying the route description, I assumed that I would feel very comfortable on the terrain up until this point. That was exactly the case.

With that being said, I had already decided the day before that I wasn’t the first person going up that summit pitch. I’m sure I’m not the only one to look at photo 21 in Bill’s route description and say hell no. After all, none of the climbing I had done up to that point wasn’t anywhere near as steep, sustained, and exposed. That being said, the idea of watching someone with more experience move through this terrain was enough reassurance for me to continue. We stopped for a break under the Prow and refueled for the final pitch. It was here that I relinquished route-finding duties and allowed Joe to take the lead up to the summit.

It was also here that David developed a bit of an obsession for the Prow and decided that he had to give it a climb upon our descent. While I had zero interest in this side quest, I was quite interested to see him scale such an impressive and exposed rock outcropping… But first, the summit pitch!

I will sprinkle in a majority of photos from the summit pitch that I believe do a good job of representing the type of terrain and the steepness of the pitch. I’ll also drop in a couple of shots that David took from up on the Prow, which give a very unique perspective on the entire pitch (dare I say I haven’t seen pictures of the summit pitch from this vantage point?!). Down and along the massive slab at the top of the notch, which was airier and more impressive than I expected. It was easy to walk down with some care and led right to the base of the pitch.

I met Joe, followed closely by David, and upon looking up, I almost instantaneously contended, “Oh, that’s not so bad! F*@k it, I’m going first up this thing”. And off we went!

Similarly to the Homestretch on Longs, I was pleasantly surprised by the terrain I found up to the summit. It was steep, exposed, and engaging. It was also bomber rock, with a plethora of holds, and far more manageable than I had built it up to be. That seems to be a common trend for me. Traversing across the catwalk or “goat path”, as I like to call it, has singlehandedly been my favorite part of any 14er. Talk about a cool and unique feature in a crazy spot on a mountain.

Being able to talk with David and Joe about how they like to test holds and read rock helped me be comfortable on the terrain and enjoy the climb. I wish the climb up was longer! Before I knew it, we were on the summit.

In truth, while I did enjoy the downclimb, it was, as most people I’ve heard say, not as easy as climbing up. Not terrible by any means, but a bit more awkward with the occasional crabwalk. I tried to throw a couple of shots of the downclimb in that showcase this pure and idealistic form of climbing, and once again give an idea of the steepness.

It was finally time for David to climb up the Prow. And so he did. Here's a picture of him on top with the rest of that mini-amphitheater for scale.

I think these final photos best put the crux section into perspective. Yes, it is steep. Yes, it is exposed. But the ledge-like terrain makes for easy, predictable, and fun climbing. These are both from the top of the Prow.

On and off during our ascent, we all had muttered at least once about how perfect the weather was and how we probably could have slept another hour. While the weather did hold all day, our return to the “V” notch was met with the presence of some ominous-looking clouds. I think we all realized we had made the right call starting early (5:30ish). Even in late September, on days that have 10% chance of precipitation, you really never know what the weather will do. That will stick with me moving forward.

As we made our way back down the drainage, I hung back from the guys to marvel at the day we had had. The climbing was amazing. The views were stunning. It was far and away the most fun I had ever had in the mountains. I couldn't have dreamed up a better day, and the remaining hike back to our cars was highlighted by brilliant aspen leaves and camaraderie between three guys who hadn't known one another just hours before.

With any luck, this write-up will help give someone who is in the position that I was some hope and possibly a loose road map of how to progress in the mountains if the big drops make you jittery.

These alpine excursions continue to provide me with a tremendous opportunity to grow as a person and progress my knowledge in the mountains. I am extremely thankful for this and the people whom I can enjoy these places with. Be smart out there, stay safe, and keep enjoying the mountains. We're lucky to have them and this great community and resource that is 14ers.com. With summer conditions closing in, it's almost that time of year again. Cheers!