If I said "I free soloed Quandary last week", most people on here would probably assume I'm either incompetent, lying, or most likely both. I would not fault them for arriving at that conclusion, however those people are probably not familiar with the Inwood Arete.

I have been spending a lot of time climbing in the flatirons this season. In the process, I stumbled across a group that calls themselves the Flatiron Fanatics. The group is led by TC Ubuntay, and is focused on soloing hard features in a team setting. I had never been able to join on one of their group climbs, but I had reached out to Alan Weisman, who is a core member of the team. Alan was very receptive to getting out and climbing something together, and it wasn't long before we rendezvoused for a scramble up the Devil's Wing's (Wing Four, 5.3). We had a great time and planned to do something else together very shortly. That plan began to materialize once TC and I set aside a day to climb something together. The three of us ended up deciding to climb the Inwood Arete on Quandary.

Our adventure began at the McCollough Gulch trailhead at approximately 5:30. The day had already taken a peculiar twist by 5:31.

This absolutely adorable little fox just ran right up to us. As cute as this encounter was, this is not normal behavior for wildlife. It didn't seem to be doing well. It had an emaciated look to it, and I couldn't help but wonder if it had lost its fear of humans after being fed. It may seem like a kind gesture, but feeding wildlife often does far more harm than good. We said our goodbyes and wished it the best.

I realized very shortly into the approach that I was going to be playing tail gunner the whole trip. I have been dealing with some nagging overuse injuries, so I am not in my normal mountaineering shape. To make matters worse, I am climbing with two speed freaks! Alan claims he is slow, but he has been back to backing huge alpine days every weekend lately. For instance, he soloed Keyhole Ridge (5.6) on Longs the day prior. TC is a flatiron ninja, who routinely runs up Direct East Face (5.6) of the First Flatiron in an hour car to car. Now, for my sanity's sake I am going to go with them being super fast rather than me being a slow sack of potatoes, but there may be a kernel of truth to both ;)

We reached the lake after approximately 1.2 miles and began to assess our future.

I was bringing up the rear (you can just assume that's where I am for the rest of this report) while I heard TC and Alan having a conversation about what line we should take. I remember TC saying that he wasn't going to bring his rock shoes, so I assumed we would be going up the standard 5.4 line, which looked plenty fun. As I caught up to them, I noticed that they were both gathered at the base of the direct start block. I then hear Alan say "Yeah I think I would be down to go up this one". Oh boy. 5.7 direct start here we come!

Alan and I began switching to our rock shoes while our guinea pig TC began to thunder gun up the crack in trail runners!

When TC was about 15 feet up the crack, a legendary comedic moment unfolded. Somehow in the midst of the discussion about what line we should take, one rather important detail seemed to get lost in translation. While the orange soles of his trail runners glowed in the sunlight, we heard TC ask "What's this rated?" Alan responded: "5.7" TC: "Wait... this is 5.7?!" Lol! We were all pretty focused at the time due to the severity of the route, but once we saw that in a video clip later, we found it to be absolutely hysterical.

About 2/3 of the way up, I realized that I was in a bit of a "Quandary". I had packed my bag with the impression that we were going to be climbing up the 5.4 line. I am used to carrying my normal alpine peak bagging setup on 5.4 routes like Wham Ridge without much issue, but this was a considerable step up in difficulty. The rock was super solid, but somewhat slick with fairly crimpy holds. I had just powered through the lower crux while my backpack felt like it was trying to pull me off of the wall. That was super unpleasant. I stood on a small platform while I contemplated my future. The choice was clear. Keep climbing with what felt like a refrigerator attached to my back, or not climb with a refrigerator attached to my back. Some simple inference will paint the picture for you.

I threw the burden off of my shoulders, taking notice at how long it took to hit the ground. It wasn't exactly comforting to hear something that was just attached to you hit the ground after several seconds of air time. Yikes. Let's uhh... not meet the same fate as my backpack. Upwards and onwards!

I immediately felt liberated by the lack of pull on my shoulders. I felt strong, like I was ready for whatever was to come. Having all the fun in the world, I confidently powered up the remainder of the crack. Once out of the crack, you reach a sizable ledge. There is still about 15 feet of 5.4ish climbing above you, but you have emerged from the crucible. Fortunately, incredibly fortunately, I heard that TC was already scoping out an easier line somewhere to climbers right to retrieve my backpack. It wasn't until this moment that I remembered my shoes were in there. Lol... what would the rest of the day have looked like without those? I did climb Quandary barefoot when I was 18, but that was not on the Inwood Arete!

TC was back up before we knew it. That man sure can cook. For instance, I had topped out just in time to find a platform to take photos of him coming up a new line with my backpack in tow. Speaking of which!

I was seriously thankful that he did that. I wasn't even sure I would be able to find another way to retrieve it when I dropped it. Surprisingly, my pack and all of it's contents were 100% in tact. +1 for Osprey ladies and gentleman.

We sat and happily discussed our experiences on the route for a few before carrying on. I was delighted to hear Alan refer to it as "full value". He spoke about it like it was a serious undertaking, which is unusual to hear him talk like that considering that he climbed competitively for nearly 20 years and used to lead mid 5.13 on a random Tuesday. He's also the most humble guy in the world.

Since we topped out on the direct block, we had a fun extra credit cliff above us, which offered some very enjoyable low 5th climbing. There were some loose blocks here and there, but we danced around them as best we could.

The rest of the route is the definition of a "choose your own adventure" climb. You could choose to talus hop and circumvent 80% of the fun stuff ahead, but why? You already paid the metaphorical (and as of the recent permitting system, literal) entry toll, why short yourself? We intentionally sought out the most engaging lines wherever we could. I had an amazing time climbing around on this adult jungle gym. We took the first tower on directly and were rewarded with some quality low 5th scrambling.

The route finding seems a bit complex when looking at the route from the bottom of the arete. Not to fear, it is actually pretty straightforward. The next section of the route always seemed to be hidden by the craggy ramparts of the current section, but just take it section by section and you will be good. I would encourage future parties to do it like we did, zigzagging for the most consistent rock climbing. Sure, there's plenty of class 3 sections and even leisurely walking sections, but there is also a lot of 4th-low 5th stuff for the intrepid adventurer.

The ridge spits you out at about 13.8k. There is about 450ish feet of gain left to summit Quandary. I made it to the summit (way after my friends ofc) and we discussed what to do next. I had never been on West Ridge before despite this being my 4th time on the mountain. I had climbed east slopes in summer, winter, and even done an ice route "Noxious Fumes" also on the north face, but somehow never done West Ridge! Let's change that. We descended that way knowing that Google Earth shows a trail leading back to McCollough Gulch from the saddle.

I must say, West Ridge was actually much cooler than I had pictured it! I expected it to be short steps of class 3, with easy terrain all around. I was pleasantly surprised by the jagged nature of the ridge. It felt like we were climbing over a deeply serrated saw blade. At one point I made a remark like "Wow this is pretty intense for class 3". Alan pointed out that I was doing optional shenanigans over the towers rather than taking the standard class 3 line. Oh yeah... Funny how class 3 and 5.3 can blend together after a free solo.

As we reached the saddle, TC told us that he was out of water and that he was going to power down to the lakes below to filter water. He ran down the trail expeditiously before veering off into the nearly 2,000 foot sea of talus that separated us from the lakes. The way he moved across the unstable talus really stood out to me. He was absolutely flying, but doing so with finesse. I have honestly never seen anything like it, and I have climbed with some incredible mountain athletes in my day.

On the way out we passed hordes of tourists arriving via the McCollough Gulch shuttle. That's about the most interesting thing I have to say about our hike out, which is probably a good thing considering our day had already been full value. The rain waited just long enough for us (or rather me) to finish the route and return to the vehicle. I always like to reflect on what lessons I've learned on any given climb during my drive back home. As I drove over Hoosier Pass, a couple of profound lessons really stuck out to me.

Lesson #1 Buy a smaller backpack and pack lighter for stuff like this, you absolute fking idiot.

Lesson #2 TC is really fast.