You know the signs of a person who spends the majority of their time outside right? Tan, good looking, nice body etc. Oh, shit, I think I may have described the majority of people who now reside in south beach Florida, oh well. Maybe the outdoorsmen needs a little fine tuning. Okay, how about this; tan (but not that Jersey Shore wanna-be fake tan orange bullshit), bug bite-ridden, emanating a distinct odor that says “I’m comfortable with how dirty my asshole gets on long climbing trips and you should be too!”, unkempt, white powder streaked clothing, a dazed look graces his/her face, callused hands, and a physique that screams “I got this way by hauling 50+ pounds up a sheer rock face for the pure enjoyment of the scenery and the experience!”. I guess that kind of sums it up better, if you have addendums please write.
So this is a write up about my latest outdoor excursion. The plan was carefully crafted by myself and my best friends I, P, and A. Wednesday! Yes, no one will be out there Wednesday! I exclaimed, fool heartedly. Infinite Bliss, albeit the most popular multi-pitch climb in the Northwest, is also the longest multi-pitch sport climb in North America. That’s right, North A-freakin’ merica. How was it that I had never attempted such a beauty? Years of insecurity and a major “I’m too good for that ‘dirt-bag’ shit” attitude, that’s how. Anyway, good friends Dom, Esteban, and James were all in agreement about this endeavor to tackle the 23 pitch monster so there I was driving frantically to North Bend at 5 in the morning to meet up with the team of destiny.
The approach to the base of the climb is a multi-pitch slog in and of itself. It’s fucking steep and it feels like it never ends. Luckily I had been training for just such occasions and only managed to sweat through an entire long sleeve shirt. I left it hanging on a tree to dry out, thus I climbed all day shirtless, BOO Yah!
After the bun burning approach we were all cooking in our own juices but happy to be face to face with some of the finest granite in the state. The first six pitches was a blur. The rope teams were James and myself, and Dom and Esteban. James and I went first. 600 feet of mega slab was taken down in a cool half hour. I’ve never climbed so fast in my life. It was a white blur of wind and water polished granite. When we finally stopped we had put down the first ten pitches in a matter of an hour and a half, and one of those pitches included a really cool 5.9 pitch that is no slouch. We were on track to slay this beast with the quickness. Pitch eleven was one of the harder pitches going at 5.10b. That’s 5.10b slab everyone, just for those of you who don’t know, I am not a slab climber by any strectch of the childhood imagination. But, there I was, roped up and on lead, clinging desperately to micro sized crimps and smearing on fingernail edges. I made it through the heinously thin crux section to the enjoyable 60 foot 5.7 section. It was a good pitch. Following the first hard pitch there was approximately 2-3 more pitches of really nice featured slab climbing at 5.7/8.
We finally got to a good ledge and some chains. This would mark the end of the 13th pitch and the beginning of the ‘shit show’. An immense sea of choss, shrubbery, grass, dirt, loose rock etc. was staring us in the face. No bolts, no rope, YIKES! James stacked the rope and started climbing and I followed suit. I’ll sum it up like this: IT WAS THE SKETCHIEST 300 FEET OF CLIMBING IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!! I’m not gonna’ lie, I was scared. Petrified would probably be a more astute adjective to describe my state of mind, but you know what, I went for it. I soloed the 300 feet of choss and was more than relieved to make it to the next set of anchors. We had a bit of an epic on this choss section but we all managed to get through it safely and soundly.
We did a couple more pitches of cruiser 5.7 and then it was time for the hardest pitch on the route, a high angled slab of 5.10c. I, once again, was roped up and on lead (and psyched to be given the opportunity to onsight the hardest pitch!). It was immaculate! This pitch alone was worth the 300 foot solo on death scree. A perfect granite face climb utilizing amazing crimpers, flakes, side pulls, slopers, smearing, edging, the whole package! It was a long pitch as well, 90-100 feet. The hardest part for me was the very last crux that involved a highstep and a thumbercling (although I may have been the only one to use it). If the choss section was gone, I would probably come back to this route just to climb this pitch again, it was that good.
After the .10c it was a short pitch of 5.8, to an incredible open book chimney that went at 5.10, and was almost 120 feet long! This 5.10a pitch of chimney climbing was hard at the end of the day and involved a lot of body jamming, pinching, and lie backing. At the end of it we were pretty much there! One more pitch of stellar 5.8 climbing on polished blocky jugs up an exposed arête, to one last pitch of absolutely amazing 5.9 friction climbing that had a really interesting lie back crack section. Five feet from the summit my feet were on fire!! I literally crawled the last couple yards to the summit and screamed like a girl (no offense girls) upon taking my shoes off. Both of my big toes were numb.
We had done it! We started the day at 6:45 a.m. and we were now comfortably seated at the summit of Mt. Garfield (a.k.a Infinite Bliss), a mere 23 pitch jaunt from the car below. The view was, of course, aesthetic beyond all belief. The Middle Fork of the Snoqualmie River snaked through the valley, wriggling in between the tree covered hillsides and mountainous peaks. Snow covered rocky outcroppings could be seen in the distance inviting would be mountaineers, and sinewy white clouds hung above the jagged mountain tops that seemed to be surrounding us on all sides. We cracked a Rainier, and I could hear John Denver’s “Sunshine On My Shoulders Makes Me Happy” being played in the background.
Well, not to ruin a perfect moment or anything but we were not the only party making our way up this behemoth. Six more people were below us, two of which had made astoundingly quick work of the route and joined us at the summit. This turned out to benefit us on our rappel since we could now utilize three rappel teams and four ropes. We double rapped the first 13 pitches before shit just started going wrong. I pulled a rope that had a knot in it and ended up having to climb an easy 120 foot pitch of 5.8 to get the rope un-stuck (yay). At this point (and several points before this one) we were all tired, vitamin-D overdosed, and dreaming of cheeseburgers and pulled pork sandwiches as big as VW beetles. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention we were also in a war zone. Even though the majority of the pitches on IB are bullet stone granite, there are a lot of opportunities to kick down loose rocks (some the size of peanuts others the size of bowling balls). Since we were the first people rapping down, the other people that had previously been below us were now above us, and the occasional death torpedo that had gained terminal velocity would come whizzing by with only a couple seconds of notice. This phenomenon turned out to be the scariest part of the day for me. I was in a rap team with Esteban and we were the last ones of our group to rappel down (hence we were following everyone and so far having to do very little work). However, Esteban almost got annihilated TWICE by baseball sized rock grenades. One of them was at the base of a pitch on a huge ledge. I had sat down to wait for our turn. I heard a whirring noise that got louder and louder and in a panic looked up only to see a large chunk of granite spiraling towards us at 100 mph. The rock smashed to bits on a ledge only five feet from where Esteban was anchored in. The sound of something potentially lethal barreling down on you, when you have no bearing or possible idea of what that ‘thing’ could be strikes the kind of fear in you that gives ordinary people the strength and energy of ten men. We rapped the last 8 pitches with fervor, to say the least, and finally made it to the base of the climb just as the silvery slither of moon could be seen cradled between two distant mountains.
Oh but the fun didn’t stop there. We made our last rappel, but upon pulling the rope realized it had gotten stuck (AGAIN!). In a rage Esteban prussiced up the last two pitchesd we had JUST rapped down and trouble shot the situation. We got our gear, ropes, and ourselves down safely. SUCCESS! Now for the descent hike (double fucking UGH!). I had no head lamp because, like a true idiot, I always come unprepared! It was a good half hour or so of blind stumbling and knee crushingly good times, accompanied by my partner in crime, my rock, my beacon of light, Esteban! Who showed the way with his head torch. I don’t think I have ever been so happy, amazed, or confused, upon arriving at my car.
Well, that’s it, that’s my story. I tried to sleep in today but my dog keeps pestering for me a walk and food and things of that nature so I have dragged myself out of the comforts of my bed to peer wide eyed
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