The next morning it was again colder at the RV than it had been at the Hind Hut. We drove back toward Canmore and called the womenfolk at a pay phone along the way. We parked at the turnout near the dam, in the sun, and ate breakfast. We packed our rock climbing gear and headed for the Northeast Face (really a buttress) of Chinaman’s Peak at 8:30 a.m. This 12-pitch trad route is rated 5.6 and located just left of a new 21 pitch, 10d sport route called Sisyphus. Sisyphus, in true sport climbing style, while starting at the same location and finishing at the same location (the summit) as the Northeast Face, is 21 pitches long.

In order to get to our route we first had to walk up the road a few hundred yards and then walk across the dam. At the other side we had to scale a fence, get onto the roof of a building on the other side and then climb down a ladder. Something about climbing over a barbwire fence in a foreign country (really, Canada is not a part of the U.S.) made me just a touch uncomfortable. The fact that we were following the lead of a French Canadian girl just in front of us made it a bit easier to swallow.

I chatted with the girl as we hiked and found out they were heading for Sisyphus and not our route. Trashy was relieved that we didn’t have to race for the route. I was a bit disappointed. I love a good race in the morning. But not enough to keep up with Homie. He left Trashy and I far behind on the very steep, loose approach.

Chinaman’s Peak (now officially called Ha Ling Peak – PC has arrived in force to western Canada) boasts an incredibly north face. This wall is huge and very steep. The total amount of rock on this face is probably a quarter the size of El Cap. Walking by most of this face, I was worried. I didn’t see how there could be a 5.6 route up such relentlessly steep and unprotectable ground. Thankfully, we finally rounded the corner and the wall laid back quite a bit. Cracks appeared and gear now looked possible. It was quite a relief and we easily found the start of the route.

We climbed the route in short blocks. Trashy would lead two pitches, then I would lead two. Then Trashy again and then me again. Then Trashy again and finally Homie took us to the top. At the top of the first two easy pitches (3^rd and 4^th class), Homie, climbing on the end of the rope with me simul-seconding about thirty feet above him, complained about all the rocks that I had dropped on him. I a bit disturbed by this comment as I had tried hard to not to dislodge any rocks. The rope, dragging over the loose rocks, was the culprit, but the tone was set.

Later, Homie would complain about the slack belay I gave yet he never called “Up rope.” I was busy at times stacking the rope so that it wouldn’t dislodge rocks. Apparently this slack belay of him is a habit that has bothered Homie before. On my next lead I was careful to keep the slack out of the rope, but in my zeal to correct this error I didn’t leave enough slack. “You don’t have to pull on me,” was Homie’s terse correction. I wasn’t having a good day. Thankfully, it was Trashy’s turn to lead and Homie would be safe from me for a while as I took over the end of the rope.

The climbing on this route was interesting and fun. This route is apparently guided quite frequently and to that end bolts were installed at all the belay stations. Some of the pitches had a few fixed pins for protection, but mostly we placed our own gear. The rock was loose in spots and all ledges had copious amounts of loose scree on them, but the underlying rock was quite solid. We did the route in about three hours.

On the summit, we looked down on the last pitch of Sisyphus, a 5.8 slab. This route finishes directly on the summit and there are two bolts right on top. Our climb also, finished right near the summit. It is cool to go from 5^th class climbing immediately to class 2 hiking. We had lunch and were soon joined by a couple of hikers – one of which was a climber. He told us about Sisyphus (we hadn’t heard of it before) and then mentioned a popular route called Raptor, which was across the way on the East End of Rundle (EEOR). Raptor is a 9 pitch sport route with short 10b crux and then easier climbing. I wanted to immediately go climb it.

We descended the very steep trail from the summit back to the road and then hiked up the road back to the RV. The roundtrip had taken just under six hours and it was now 2:30 p.m. We had some lunch and re-packed for Raptor. Only Trashy and I would be going on this route as John decided to bow out. We took eleven draws – seven for the pitch and two at each belay, and an adventure pack with two liters of water, some food, and rain shells. We headed up sometime after 3 p.m. and found a very steep climbers trail that led straight to the route.

At the base, we found a climber named Jim. He was part of a four-person team from Edmonton that included Simon, Sharon, and Joe. They were climbing as a team of four for this first pitch, but then would separate into two teams of two, or so Jim told us. They were also combining pitches, as the each pitch is only 25 meters long (a true sport route!)

Not having a guidebook to this area, we decided to wait on the route. Jim and Simon had climbed Sisyphus the day before and we figured they must be good, fast climbers. I was a bit worried with all the trouble Sharon was having at the crux. We watched her standing in the fixed aid sling at the crux bolt, hanging on the rope, and urging her belayer to pull. Further up, on the tricky second pitch, which they combined with the first, she did the same. Nevertheless, we decided to follow and by not combining any pitches, we might go slow enough to not get frustrated.

Above us was yet another team, which we dubbed Team Drop Rocks due to the regular missiles they sent out way. This is a serious and scary situation and we were glad to have our helmets on. At first, they yelled “Rock” with each bomb, but later, maybe thinking they were too far above us to yell, there was no call at all.

I led the first pitch (actually 10c in the latest guide) and managed to onsight it. Trashy, following, tried a more difficult combination (apparently in a successful attempt to challenge himself) and came off before resorting to my wimpy solution and getting it clean. The next pitch was originally rated 5.8, but the technical nature of this pitch is extreme. I thought it was tougher than the first pitch because of the tiny edging required. The pitch has since been re-rated 10a and Trashy did masterful job on lead. I’m not sure I could have pulled off this lead. It reminded me somewhat of Solid Gold (also 10a) in Joshua Tree. While the latter is steeper, this pitch had the same very painful quality in the handholds and footholds.

The Edmonton team was savoring the route and in no hurry. They offered to let us by because they changed their plans and would continue to climb the route as a team of four instead of two teams of two. As I led the third pitch, Simon yelled down asking if we wanted to pass. I said I wasn’t in a big hurry, but they urged us to combine the third with the fourth pitch and then go by them. At the time I was struggling with the 5.9 section on the pitch and didn’t feel too fast. In fact, I had to back off this section once to get it right. Fortunately, the climbing eased above and I was able to link the fourth pitch and reach their big ledge in good time. I had to skip a couple of bolts because of our shortage of draws, though.

When the Trashman arrived at the ledge, he urged me to take the lead again so that we could go faster and not hold up Simon and company. They weren’t in a hurry, but Trashman doesn’t like to feel any pressure to lead fast, though he can follow incredibly fast. I took the lead again and as I moved up the next pitch I could hear the Trashman telling the others that I was a speed climber and was writing a book with Hans Florine. Now I felt pressure to be really fast, yet I was onsighting on unfamiliar rock. However, any pressure felt was self-induced and the climbing, thankfully was no harder than 5.7. Soon I was two pitches up and the Trashman was following.

The next pitch was short and easy and ended at a sheltered belay below the last hard pitch. The Trashman, deprived of earlier leads, wanted this pitch also. It was supposed to be 5.9. He moved steadily up to the crux section and then began a running commentary on the climb, the situation, how he felt, etc. I can always tell how difficult a pitch will be by how much talking the Trashman does – they are directly proportional.

“Wow, this looks hard. At least 5.9. I can see a hand crack. Man, I’d like to get over there. I wonder if I’m supposed to climb the face instead. That looks even harder. It’s overhanging. This seems more like a trad route here than a sport route. I feel naked without a rack. That’s the trouble with sport climbing you’re a slave to the bolt placements. Alright! A hand jam. Damn, they end though. This is awkward. What a hard clip! I did that wrong. I should have clipped from here where I could get a no-hands rest. I always do that. I’m concentrated so hard on clipping the bolt as soon as possible. Wow, a jug! It’s Jug City up here. I’m entering the Zone of Jug City. I’m entering the Zone of Jugginess.”

It was hilarious. Following this pitch, I found it hard and it did feel trad like. We’d find out later that the pitch is now deservedly rated 10a. The hand jams and stems from the corner didn’t feel like normal sport climbing moves and gave it a trad climbing feel. The runout between bolts at the crux also helped with this impression. Trashy had done a great job on the lead.

I scampered up the last easy pitch, clipping a couple of bolts and bypassing the final belay in favor of continuing on to easy hiking terrain. We switched into our hiking shoes here and headed down. We passed Team Drop Rocks on the hike down and while they descended more directly back to the turnout where we started, we continued down the slope to the west in order to reach the Goat Lake Trailhead where Homie had moved the RV. This proved to be a horrendous descent. The climber’s trail faded out and we followed game trails and then just bushwhacked through the steep trees. We feared it would dump us into a swamp, but things worked out fine.

The day proved to be productive. We got in about 4700 vertical feet and 21 pitches of climbing, three of which were 5.10. We were due for a rest, but would we get it? We drove into Canmore to get gas and propane, dump tanks, eat dinner, and find a campsite for the night. I wanted a shower and an electrical hook-up for this night and we got both less than a half mile from downtown Canmore.

Thursday, August 3^rd: To Rest or Not To Rest? That is the Question.

We awoke late and treated ourselves to breakfast at Canmore’s Fireside Inn. We were due for a rest day. After breakfast, we did some shopping in town and then checked the weather at the Alpine Club of Canada’s clubhouse. Trashy made the big decision to head north and climb the Skyladder route on Andromeda the next day and then do the Grassi Ridge on Wiwaxy peak the day following. He filled the void of indecision and got the trip back on track with clear objectives.

We drove to the Athabasca Glacier, arriving at 2:30 p.m. We watched a party top out on the North Face of Mt. Alberta. The weather was perfect. So much so that I itched to climb Athabasca. The North Glacier route on Athabasca involves 5000 vertical feet of climbing up a scree approach to a big glacier and then up through a headwall to a final ice slope and an exposed summit ridge. This route is the normal descent route and the easiest way to the summit. It would be foolish to attempt something like that so late in the day and I hesitated. Homie was going to go scramble Mt. Wilcox – an un-glaciated peak on the other side of the highway, which required 2900 vertical feet of gain. I ate lunch and packed my sack. I figured I’d just go up and look at the glacier, but I carried mountain boots, an axe, crampons, and extra clothes just in case I got Froggy.

At 4:16 p.m. from our parking lot across the street, I turned on my MP3 player and started motoring up the road to the trailhead. At the trailhead I climbed steeply up a trail through the moraine to the toe of the glacier. I was trying to gain 100 meters every ten minutes and I so far was ahead of this goal. I made the glacier in 48 minutes (33 minutes from the trailhead) and took a ten-minute break to switch into my mountain boots and gaiters.

I hammered from there to the summit in 1:34 – total elapsed time from the RV of 2:32 (2:17 from the trailhead). Climbing up the icefall at the top of this glacier, I met a couple other climbers descending. These were the climbers we had seen topping out on the North Face when we first arrived. They were pleasant and I was jealous of their roped security. They warned me that the nice snow track I was following was about to end. The upper snow slope was an ice slope.

The ice slope did not start abruptly, but gradually got harder and harder. In my haste, I stupidly did not put on my crampons. I nearly made the top of the slope when things got very dicey. I had two tools in my hands and basically campused up the 40-degree ice, dragging my body behind. It was incredibly ridiculous, but I didn’t want to descend and didn’t think I could safely put on crampons at that point. I didn’t make this mistake on the way down. I was pretty gripped by the time I pulled myself onto the rocks at the top of the ice slope.

Once on the rocks, I followed a scree ridge to the final snow ridge. The exposure here was huge! The view down the north face was too much for my cramponless boots and me and I traversed mostly just to the south of this ridge where there wasn’t any exposure. I climbed up to the ridge proper just before the summit. What a great mountain!

I spent two minutes on the summit before descending. Reversing the upper section was trivial, but when I got to the Icefield I donned my crampons. The slope looked gentle enough, but I knew what it was like ascending it and stepping onto the slope would commit me to a high speed ice glissade and that would be a stupid decision.

With the crampons on things were trivial and I descended quickly to the icefall and traversed across the top of the big seracs to the steep snow slope I had ascended. Just when I thought the crampons were superfluous and was about to remove them, I fell into a hidden crevasse up to my crotch. Yikes! I decided to keep on the crampons in case I fell in further and needed them to climb back out.

In my haste to get off the glacier, I traversed back across the glacier too low and ended up on pure ice. Pure ice, except rocks that sprinkled its surface. This section would have been impossible without the crampons and it was a bit of a pain with them. I slipped once on a rock and, instinctively thrusting out my hand for balance, cut my finger on a rock.

and then came down to the trailhead in 1:16 (including a ten minute break to switch back to approach shoes and a 5 minute break to put on crampons to descend the upper ice field. I went the entire way in running tights and a mid-weight capilene shirt. The roundtrip from the trailhead was 3:35 for nearly 5000 vertical feet.

I was back at the RV around 8:20 p.m. I called Sheri, ate a big dinner and re-packed for the next morning.

Friday, August 4^th: Andromeda Stress

Michael Crichton’s debut novel was The Andromeda Strain – a neat sci-fi story about a satellite crash landing on earth with a deadly microbial life form. The title is also the name of a fearsome mixed climb on the North Face of Mt. Andromeda. That was too much stress for us and we chose the mellow, 50-60 degree snow/ice slopes further west called the Skyladder.

We awoke at 5:00 a.m. and were hiking around 5:45 a.m. Today was my day off from weight carrying. Homie carried the rope and Trashman carried the rack of screws. I only had to carry the first aid kit. Good thing, too, because I was dragging right from the start. Homie and Trashy always seemed to be a hundred feet ahead of me. I was tired from the day before and trying to pace myself for a long day.

We hiked the road to it’s end at the Snocoach Loading Zone. Here tourists board giant six-wheeled vehicles with very low gearing for excursions onto the Athabasca Glacier. We didn’t drop down on the glacier however, but followed the moraine on the left to the toe of a side glacier. We geared up here and pulled out two tools to surmount the imposing and scary looking icefall. Trashy took over the lead here and led us nicely through section. The climbing went a lot easier than it looked and we simul-climbed it without placing any gear. I think I was the only one using two tools, but I figure if I’m on ice, what good is a toolless limb? At one point I was climbing a steep, narrow fin of ice up to the glacier above.

Once on the glacier above, we moved easily up it and then across to the base of the route. We stayed roped here because of the crevasses and the bergschrund that was soon to come. Homie led us across the ‘schrund and up through some steep snow and rotten ice to a crumbling rock section where we regrouped.

Trashy looked up and deemed the route itself to be safe for soloing. We stripped off the rope and Homie coiled it and stashed it in his pack. I said to Homie at this point, “I imagine this is a bit of twist for you to rope up on the approach and then solo the climb.” This would turn out to be prophetic. While Homie coiled, I was pushing the route further and Trashy followed. We opened up a bit of a gap on the super strong Homie.

The steep, hard snow turned to ice above. This caused me some concern, but the angle was probably only 45 degrees. Trashy cheered when we got to the ice. His thoughts were “ice doesn’t avalanche.” My thoughts were “ice doesn’t provide nice flat steps to rest your burning calves.” I’m not as confident or comfortable on the ice, but I climbed on, swinging both tools and kicking my frontpoints. After a couple hundred feet of this, we hear Homie called up from below. He’s less comfortable on the ice and will not risk a three-thousand-foot death fall while soloing ice. That seemed like a reasonable decision to me. Either Trashy or I was going to have to descend. Trashy clearly was the man for the job, being the stronger ice climber and he started down.

With no ledge or even a break in the angle to lend me any comfort, I climbed on. As I got more exposed and my calves got more pumped, I became more afraid. A couple of times I hung from both tools and just lay against the ice to rest my legs. I didn’t much like just hanging from a couple of tiny points though and moved on. I probably climbed around a thousand vertical feet of ice before it finally turned to snow. I climbed up a ways and stomped out a platform to rest and wait for Trashy and Homie.

When Trashy and Homie joined me at my stance in the snow, I was quite cold and Homie was still quite pissed off. Two good reasons for me to get moving. I apologized to Homie for the incident, but he wasn’t in the mood for reconciliation. I took the rope from Trashman so that I’d at least correct that mistake and setoff up a perfect slope of steep nevé. I kept my distance from Homie and my mouth shut. He had every reason to be pissed, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it now.

Above the slope started gradually and then became quite steep, but still nevé and not ice. After nearly another thousand vertical feet, things flattened out and we had to traverse across the long, flat plateau and ridge to the very summit. The snow was pretty deep here and the sun was softening things up. I remember working very hard to keep up Homie and Trashy.

We made the summit in 5.5 hours and spent 30 minutes up there. The view was tremendous and we could see so many great peaks and the great Columbia Ice Field.

The descent was epic. First, we followed a long, snowy ridge down to very steep, loose rocky bands. The snow slopes were tiring and I fell behind yet again on an uphill section. We did a few rappels here and lots of downclimbing. Eventually we got to the Athabasca-Andromeda col. The descent from here was down a 50-degree couloir – at least five hundred vertical feet above the bergschrund.

Trashy was just doing to down solo it, but Homie wasn’t game for that. Initially, Trashy headed down first, thinking we could downclimb it. He kicked steps in the steep, hard snow. I rigged a belay at at the col and belayed Homie down this first pitch. I then downclimbed to the others. It was pure ice the rest of the way down and we’d have to rappel. There weren’t any rock anchors available and we didn’t have the means to make V-threads, so Trashy had to downclimb each section. I’d go first and put in at least two screws while rappelling. Homie would come next and then Trashy would downclimb, pulling the screws, while we belayed him. At one belay, while Homie was rappelling and Trashy was downclimbing, I worked furiously to chop a bollard from which we could all rappel. By the time Trashy arrived the bollard still wasn’t secure enough to risk our lives and Trashy had to downclimb another pitch. Trashy was by far the most experienced on the ice and, hence, shouldered the big burden on this descent.

I found a rock anchor for our final rappel over the bergschrund and soon we were walking down the glacier, weaving a bit to avoid the crevasses. We gazed with awe up at the Andromeda Strain, a “grand course” route leading to the summit of Mt. Andromeda from this glacier. We descended in a bit under 5 hours including a 30-minute break at the moraine. Another 5000-foot day.

After vegging out in the parking lot for a few hours we drove over to the Lake O’Hara parking lot. This backcountry area, located basically on the other side of Mt. Victoria as Lake Louise, has access tightly controlled. One must make reservations weeks in advance to get on a bus for the 11km ride up to the Lake. No cars can be driven up this road and no bikes can be ridden. The only other option is to hike in via the road or a longer trail. After Assiniboine, this approach seemed rather short to us.

Saturday, August 5^th: Satan’s Minions Visit Canada

Our goal was the Grassi Ridge on Wiwaxy Peak. Frankly, we picked it because it was easy and would provide for a low stress finish to our week. Trashy suggested this route because it was on Gary Clark’s North American Classics web site and CD. Trashy had dealt favorably with Gary in the past and had contributed photos and trip reports to the NA Classics project. I, on the other hand, had a rather unpleasant interaction with Gary. Though I must admit most of our correspondence has been cordial and friendly, I seem to remember the worst most vividly. Certainly this is unfair to Gary and my partners pointed this out whenever I disparaged him. (2003 Note: Gary and I are on very friendly terms and I have contributed much to his NA Classics web site and CD.)

It was childish, but I repeatedly wanted to best and denigrate Gary’s achievements. Gary had done this same route and put it on his Classics site. I therefore predetermined that it wouldn’t be a classic. Gary had also hiked the road into the climb and we left at almost exactly the same time (we left at 5:26 a.m. while Gary left at 5:30 a.m.). We started at a relaxed pace, it being our seventh day in a row of hard work, but soon I got motivated by the kilometer signs which marked our progress. I wanted to cover a kilometer every ten minutes. This involved a very fast pace considering that we’d gain well over a thousand feet on the approach also. As fast as this pace was, it was only barely faster than Gary’s time. He turned off the trail at 7:15 a.m. while we turned at 7:09 a.m. With our earlier start time our pace was only two minutes faster than Gary. We’re fast hikers. Gary must be quite fast himself.

Aided by Gary’s excellent description, we easily found the trail that led up the slope to the base of the route. This trail climbs relentlessly and gains more than a thousand vertical feet. We scrambled through cliff bands and up steep, wooded slopes to the base of the route by 7:45 a.m. Gary had flailed around in the woods and didn’t arrive at the base until 8:45 a.m. We were up an hour.

I led the first two pitches as one with about twenty meters of simul-climbing. We were using a 60-meter 8.1mm rope and always simul-seconded the route, just as we had done on the Northeast Face of Chinaman’s Peak. Gary describes these pitches as chimneys, but they aren’t. You can head up a broken corner system, which I did on the first pitch, or climb the bold face on the left, which I did on the second pitch.

Above was an easy 3^rd class scrambling section and we coiled the rope over our shoulders and moved up to the base of the next steep step. Trashy took over the leading and ran out 60 meters of rope before belaying. This involved Homie simul-climbing about thirty feet of the pitch since he was tied in 30 feet from the end of the rope, where I was now located.

I led through up a long pitch to another 3^rd class section. Up to this point the climbing is highly unremarkable. It isn’t particularly good, consistent, or solid. The position Is nice, heck you’re in the Canadian Rockies, but certainly the route is not to be considered one of the classics of the continent.

Next up was the crux pitch. The guide says to head boldly up the vertical buttress directly but also mentions that this can be avoided via traversing around to the right, which is what Gary did. In doing so, Gary missed by far the best pitch of the climb. This pitch up the buttress is indeed stellar. The rock is solid, the protection good, the moves are fun and exposed. This pitch was worth the hike in. It was also pretty long at 40 meters and ends at a great ledge with three fixed pitons. Homie and Trashy did a great job simul-seconding this intimidating 5.7 pitch.

Trashy led out 30 meters on the next pitch and it was very good also. Solid, fun climbing though not nearly as steep as the previous pitch. At this point the skies were threatening to rain. Would our streak of perfect weather finally end? We didn’t want to find out until we were safely off the route. I took over the lead and we simul-climbed to the summit arriving at 10:25 a.m. I couldn’t resist pointing out that Gary didn’t arrive until 2 p.m. Gary had wanted to finish in time to catch the 3:30 p.m. bus out, but didn’t make it and had to catch the 6:30 p.m. bus.

The weather improved on queue and we lounged on the summit eating lunch. The 12 pitches had taken us just 2.5 hours. I didn’t feel like I was rushing, but it seems I always climb and hike fast these days. I’m constantly being pushed by young studs like Homie. While simul-climbing to the top I couldn’t pull the rope tight on him - he was too fast.

Gary had been a bit discouraged with how difficult the descent was off of this peak, but we found it laughably easy. It is certainly easier than descending off the top of the Wind Tower in Eldorado Springs Canyon and a gondola ride down compared to our descent of Mt. Andromeda the day before. The descent is clearly marked and mostly 3^rd class with only a few short steep sections, which are easily downclimbed.

We hiked the climbers trail down to the Wiwaxy Gap alpine route trail and down that to Lake O’Hara itself. The lakes in Canada frequently have an incredible turquoise color to them. It is so beautiful and shocking that upon seeing postcards you’d think they were re-touched and upon seeing the lakes themselves you’d think they had been dyed.

The descent from the summit to the lake took just under an hour and a half and it was now 12:30 p.m. Since it was three hours to the first bus and we had to immediately drive back to Colorado, we decided to just hike back out and start the drive home. It was a long hike out, but went smoothly at the same 10 minutes per kilometer pace, though much easier since we were going downhill. Homie and I got into a heated debate about Mt. Culebra – a Colorado 14er on private property. It was just our competitive personalities coming to a boil. I think we needed a break from each other. We had never been together for so many days in a row.

We got back to the RV about the same time Gary would have been topping out on the route. He’d be in Montana by the time he got back to his car. I couldn’t resist one last comparison…

Day	Miles hiked	Vertical Gained	Vertical Lossed	Time Spent Moving	Pitches Climbed
Sunday, July 30^th	20	4300	1000	8:22 (with an hour+ break)	0
Monday, July 31^st	3	4700	4700	5:02 for Assiiniboine, 1:30 for Strom and Wedgewood	5
Tuesday, August 1st	26	2000	5300	11 hours with some long breaks	0
Wednesday, August 2nd	12	4400	4400	5:50 for Chinaman’s Peak, 3:56 for Raptor on EEOR	21
Thursday, August 3^rd	10	5100	5100	4 hours on Athabasca	0
Friday, August 4^th	12	5000	5000	11 hours with two 30 minute breaks on Andromeda	4
Saturday, August 5^th	18	3900	3900	8:55 with 30 minute break on summit of Wiwaxy.	12
Totals	101	29,400	29,400	About 60 hours of work	42

The drive back was an adventure in itself, one involving a $350 tow job and then begging a guy to fix the RV alternator on a Sunday. The worst part was this happened in the middle of the night. We barely made a call to Sheri with our situation and location before the cell phone died. We didn’t know if she could do anything for us, but when a monstrous tow truck arrived early the next morning we knew she had saved us.

The trip was an unmitigated success. True to Homie’s words, we didn’t take a rest day. Eight days in a row of perfect weather. That is certainly a personal record for me in the Canadian Rockies. The big routes still intimidate me, yet I find the easier routes, well, easy. I need to make the leap to the bigger routes next trip. It helps having some strong and motivated partners. Of course, having partners like this really cuts into my rest days.

Limestone Du Jour

July 28 through August 6, 2000

Wednesday, August 2^nd: Chinaman’s Peak and Raptor on EEOR

Thursday, August 3^rd: To Rest or Not To Rest? That is the Question.

Friday, August 4^th: Andromeda Stress

Saturday, August 5^th: Satan’s Minions Visit Canada

Limestone Du Jour

July 28 through August 6, 2000

Wednesday, August 2nd: Chinaman’s Peak and Raptor on EEOR

Thursday, August 3rd: To Rest or Not To Rest? That is the Question.

Friday, August 4th: Andromeda Stress

Saturday, August 5th: Satan’s Minions Visit Canada

Wednesday, August 2^nd: Chinaman’s Peak and Raptor on EEOR

Thursday, August 3^rd: To Rest or Not To Rest? That is the Question.

Friday, August 4^th: Andromeda Stress

Saturday, August 5^th: Satan’s Minions Visit Canada