The Wind River Range, Wyoming, USA

 TOYOHASHI ALPINE CLUB

THE WIND RIVERS
August/September, 1999
Wyoming, USA.
Party: Iain Williams and Darren DeRidder
Report by: Iain Williams
 

Following our pursuits in the Tetons and a few days playing at tourists in Yellowstone we made our plans for our trip in to the Winds. The plan was to go in for three days climbing in the Cirque of the Towers area taking in a route on Pingora, the East Ridge of Wolf's Head and one other climb.

The trip started with a slow leisurely breakfast in Jackson and a trip to the supermarket. The drive down to the Winds was interesting for me. As we left the Teton hills the countryside opened out into fairly flat farmland which looked a bit dusty and bleak. Our last stop was at a service station where we filled up our water bottles. The last part of the drive to the end of the road was on dirt roads and the navigation got a little more serious. Fortunately Darren was more switched on than myself otherwise we would have been driving around aimlessly for hours. There was also an air of apprehension in the car. The landscape was very bleak, almost desertlike and it seemed a bit weird that within a few hours we would be in an alpine environment. Eventually we came to the end of the road and the Big Sandy Opening car park. We threw all our gear out on to the ground and got packing once again. After our heavy packs in the Tetons we were keen to try and cut down on what we'd take in. Some climbing gear was sacrificed and more foolishly we only took in food for four days.

We finally hit the trail just after 4, way later than we'd expected. The guidebook said it was a five hour hike in to the Cirque, which meant if we were going to get there on the same day we'd have to motor. Just after setting off we stopped to chat with a bloke who was just coming off the trail after a week of wandering around. He was full of himself and had clearly had a super week. He was yet another person who had nothing but praise and admiration for the Winds. We continued along the flat trail close to the gently flowing river crossing long grassed meadows and hiking through pine woodland. It was very pleasant, occasionally we'd smell some kind of sweet pine, not sure what it's called but it was the sweetest natural smell I'd ever smelt. We kept a good pace and soon hit the grassland surrounding Big Sandy lake. It had taken us two hours to cover five miles. Again the scenery was quite stunning, the large calm blue lake, surrounded by pine forest with sweeping granite slopes in the background, all under a blue sky in the soft evening light. Taking it all in we decided to bin our original plan and camp by the lake for the night.

We chose a spot under the trees on some high ground just off the trail next to a stream. This was way more pleasant than our rocky campsite in Garnet canyon back in the Tetons. Once again I pitched the test while Darren filtered the water. We dined and got a good fire going before hanging the food away from the tent and out of reach of the tallest trampoline using bears in north America. The night passed with a bit of rain.
Next morning we had a slow and leisurely start. The plan was to hike the 3 or so miles into the Cirque, pitch the tent and climb the South buttress of Pingora. This next stage of the hike was way more taxing. We took it slowly as the path rose and fell. I was filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension at what lay ahead. Through breaks in the trees I eagerly looked for the peaks of the Cirque. The climbing in the valley we were in looked impressive enough without going any further. The guidebook told us there was a small path we could use that would avoid the worst part of the hike in, Jackass Pass. We managed to identify the so called climbers trail and followed it down the side of a small lake and then along the large boulders of another small lake. We hiked steeply up from the lake following a trail of cairns aiming for the gap between a huge boulder and the rockface. We passed through the gap and there in front of us was our first view of the Cirque.

Straight ahead was the chunky column shaped Pingora and just to its left was Wolf's Head. It felt weird seeing them for real after spending so much time in London studying the guidebook. Again I was filled with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Everything looked big and I felt small. The names of the surrounding peaks added to the sense of respect that I had for the place. Warbonnet, Warrior I and II, Lizard Head and Shark's Nose, all suitable names for the surrounding towers. Two years before in the Canadian Rockies I had been a little dismayed with the early climbers/pioneers naming of the peaks. Naming a mountain after a monarch or dignitary in my opinion is very dull and doesn't really do mountains justice. Not so, in the Cirque of the Towers.

We plodded down into the cirque passing a couple of yellow tents, crossed a large stream and started heading up the next slope towards Pingora in search of a spot to pitch the tent. After spending a bit too much time hunting around, for which I take all blame, we found just about the most picturesque spot ever. We were in a meadow between the trail and a small babbling stream, and next to a large boulder. All around us was an amazing selection of wild flowers. We pitched the tent and sorted out the gear and got ourselves ready for an ascent of Pingora.

Hiking up to the base of Pingora's rocky slopes I was more focused on the east ridge of Wolf's Head. That was the route that I was really psyched to do and had spent hours going over the guide book description back in London. At the base of Pingora we started scrambling up a rake heading up to the right. Darren was shooting up as if being pulled up by a magnet. It was fun scrambling up and I have to say in a few spots I felt rather exposed, well aware of the drop below. Once at the base of the route we looked up at what lay ahead and then across to the west for any signs of approaching storm clouds. As it was late afternoon we decided to leave the climbing for the next day. We left most of the gear in a sheltered spot between some rock and headed back down to check out the beginning of the Wolf's Head route and for a wander around a small tarn.

Back at the tent we chilled out, enjoying our surroundings, Darren did a spot of bouldering on our large boulder, I preferred to sit on the top drinking tea saving my strength for the next few days. Next morning we had another leisurely start. The short hike up was easier this time with our light packs. Again, Darren was clearly under some kind of spell. I was feeling very apprehensive, I'd had some pretty whacky dreams in the night and didn't feel too relaxed.

The scramble up was quickly polished off and before we knew it we were back at the gear. Some vermin had dined on my rock boots during the night but otherwise everything was unmunched. The first few pitches were easy steps which Darren quickly knocked off. At the beginning of the first real pitch I took the sharp end of the rope, traversed round to the right and then headed up a crack system. The rock was perfect, excellent purchase, nice gradient and tons of potential gear placements. It was a delight to climb. About 20m up I was running low on quickdraws and feeling on the tired side, presumably the altitude, so set up a hanging belay on some insitu slings. Darren quickly followed up and finished off the pitch onto a big ledge at the base of the K crack. Still feeling tired I offered the last pitch to Darren. The K crack looked very inviting but we stuck to our intended route and headed off to the left and up. Darren made short work of the last pitch. I followed, again thoroughly enjoying it and a little sorry that I'd handed D the lead as it was a very nice pitch. The last section on to the top was an easy scramble so we dumped the rope and gear and skidaddled up onto the top. The usual summit photo session followed and it was then time for a good look at Wolf's Head. From the top of Pingora the first section looked very narrow and exciting. The sky off to the left was getting duller and rain was looking imminent so we set off on the descent. As we abseiled back down we spotted a couple beginning the Wolf's Head route. We thought they were pretty mad considering it was mid afternoon and the sky wasn't looking particularly friendly. Once off the rock we ambled back down to the tent happy with our ascent even though it was rather short.

As we were cooking up dinner the rain started to fall in big heavy drops. We moved everything into the tent and finished off cooking and dining under cover. Outside a full scale storm developed with rain bucketing down and crashing thunder with lightning. We both lay staring out the back of the tent across the flowers at the steep walls of Wolf's Head wondering how the couple we had seen were faring. The rain was cascading down the granite slopes and the thunder continued to crash and roll around the cirque. In a way it was quite exciting to witness. The light was also starting to fade. We were getting very worried about the couple plus another party of four who we knew were also doing the route. We considered going out on a search mission but didn't really think it would achieve much so decided to stay put until it was nearly dark. Eventually we saw the foursome head down the small trail, we flashed our headtorches at them and they quickly passed in search of shelter.

20 mins or so later we were very relieved to see the couple come down and called them over to our tent. They were French Canadian and had got caught on the top. Their quickest way down was to abseil down the steep south face through cascades of run off water and rain, sacrificing gear in the process. Amazingly they got down safely. The girl didn't even have a waterproof jacket. They were very lucky. After telling us there was no one else up there they shot off and we zipped up the back of the tent to try and get some sleep. All our food was in the tent with us. We had visions of the storm disappearing, with the local bears coming out of their caves into the fresh cool night air and immediately honing in on the food odours coming from our tent.

We didn't have a peaceful night. The storm continued. The tent had epileptic fits in the wind but held fast and watertight. The thunder kept on crashing and rolling. At times we heard the disturbing sound of major rockfall. Standing on top of Pingora I felt we had conquered one of the towers, now in the bottom of the cirque in our small tent in the storm I felt very small and insignificant again. We got some sleep and when we woke the next morning the rain had stopped. Outside the sky still looked hostile, and the clouds were racing across the sky. There was no way we would be going up onto Wolf's Head. We wondered what to do. We didn't really have enough food to wait for a day or two and dry weather. After breakfast I headed off to the party of four that we saw the previous evening. They had been soaked to the skin and all the gear was lying out around their tents drying. They were staying for the rest of the week and would wait out the bad weather. Back at our tent we eventually made up our minds to move out. We packed up with very heavy hearts. As we headed back up to the pass we met a guide and discussed the conditions with him. He reckoned it was the worst storm he'd experienced in the Winds and that our decision to go was the right one. This made us feel better but we were still disappointed.

The hike out didn't have the same atmosphere that I'd experienced on the way in. I took it easy and was relieved when we finally dropped down to Big Sandy Lake. Darren had shot off in front. I took a breather before starting the last 5km back to the trailhead. As I got nearer the end I started to really tire. We had pushed it and when I finally got to the car I felt totally whacked and took a lot of satisfaction in dumping my pack. After a good drink we threw everything in the car and began the rough and rocky drive back to the tarmac road and on to Jackson and Dennys.

We spent more time deliberating on whether we had made the right decision. As it turned out the weather remained lousy for the rest of the week and we got nothing else done back in the Tetons either. The week and the trip ended back in Salt Lake City with a very enjoyable day's rock climbing in Little Cottonwood Canyon. Our few days in the Winds left a big impression on us and I'm sure that one day we'll be back to take care of a lot of unfinished business!

Southern Appalachians, North Carolina, USA

Toyohashi Alpine Club
Mountaineering in the United States

Southern Appalachians

North Carolina, USA
Tuesday 25th - Thursday 27th September, 1996
Report by: Iain Williams

Like so many good trips this one quickly came out of the blue.  The purpose of my visit to the US was to catch up with John, who I taught with in Toyohashi plus climbed Fuji with, and to run a 10km road race. My knowledge of North American mountains is not what it should be and my knowledge of the Appalachians prior to my visit was non-existent.

Whilst staying with John in Atlanta we formulated a plan to do a couple of the nearest peaks. We set off from Atlanta on a warm humid Tuesday lunchtime. Our first port of call was Tallulah Gorge in NE Georgia at the southern end of the Appalachians. The drive up there was very pleasant even though we were on the wrong side of the road. Before heading down into the gorge we registered ourselves in the local visitor's centre. We were told that the descent was about 700ft and steeper than 45'. It was then a short drive back to a small well hidden car park. After moaning about the car park we commenced our descent. It was very steep and very rocky. Shoes with good grip were definitely the order of the day.

Once at the bottom we found ourselves beside a rocky pool surrounded by the gorges near vertical walls. There was a 20m rock slide leading into the pool. A man was swimming around while his partner watched. Within minutes we were in the water eyeing the rock slide. Before long and after consultation with the other bloke we were on the slippy rock sliding into the water below. Excellent fun. After getting dressed we walked down the gorge for a short distance and saw some fine high granite walls that swept down to us. They were very impressive but were weeping too much for rock climbing. Finding pro would have been testing. We walked on a little further on a sandy track through some small trees. John remarked that he wasn't keen to meet any snakes. Walking behind him I immediately spotted a perfectly shaped, dead, black, leafless branch and quickly threw it down beside where he was walking. It had the desired effect. John sprung to the right in horror while I laughed at the expression on his face. I learnt this little piece of knavishness from Wyane Daly who did the same to me on Ishimaki just after we really had seen a snake.

Climbing back out of the gorge was a real sweat producing exercise and I was glad it wasn't any longer than 700ft, John even more so.  Back in the car we drove on up to a paper mill town called Canton for dinner at the local Pizza Hut. After the pizza we crossed the car park to a MacD's for an ice cream. Standing in the queue we were behind a mother with her two young kids. John whispered to me that the kids had real redneck accents which amused me. The mother also heard John and wasn't so amused and gave him a dirty stare.  Unfortunately she never threw a cheeseburger at him.

The plan for the next day was to do Grandfather Mountain (1818m) which was about 2 hours NE of where we were. Our guidebook described it as strenuous and dangerous with not too much of an elevation gain. It sounded good although the name didn't do much in the way o striking fear into our hearts. That morning we stopped for breakfast just outside Asheville in a Waffle House before heading up through the mountains.

Again the drive was very scenic and in many ways it reminded me of Japan, although I don't think this impressed John. The mountains were of a similar height and were covered in thick forest, all be it, of a more deciduous variety. We drove high on to the mountain whereupon we came to the gates and forked out $9 each entrance fee. Ouch! The mountain was on private land. It was then up to the top car park where we parked and got ready.

The weather didn't look too great. There was a lot of cloud around and rain was forecast for later in the day. This didn't have the usual effect on me. It was great to be where I was. We headed off into the forested mountainside in search of our summit. We passed a few people of the pure tourist variety and then the track started to descend. In front of us we could see the first of the summits that we were to encounter. The climb up to it didn't look too tough and before not too long we found ourselves sweating and steadily ascending. In the guidebook we were warned of rock pitches on ladders and dangerous ground. As we hiked up we met a man who had turned back after encountering the ladders. He didn't like them and had decided to plump for the easier route. This sounded interesting. We arrived at the ladders and moved up without any problems. If they hadn't been there it would have been an easy rock climb. Once on flat ground we found ourselves standing below a rocky tor with a ladder tied to the side of it. We climbed on to the top and took a few photos. We were standing atop of Macrea Peak (1810m).

The mountain was made up of several peaks. We had to climb three of them with the third one being the highest. Leaving Macrea we marched on and down towards the next one. We were on a ridge and in amongst cloud which did nothing to enhance the impressive surroundings. Nevertheless I was enjoying it. I'm sure I could also feel some effect from the altitude, I'm surprised to say. Not being very high I wasn't too happy with how I felt. As we approached th next peak we climbed up some more ladders and we then entered what was called the chute, a steep rocky gully. At the top of the chute we found ourselves on top of Attic Window Peak (1813m) where there was a couple sitting down. The bloke was clearly a mountain man, out to try and impress his woman. I found it quite amusing listening to him. We were also a bit on the tired side so took a 5 minute chocolate and water break.

As we set off John was looking a bit worn out and the thought of descending and ascending again wasn't a pleasant one for him. As we scrambled down we went off track and followed a sign post to an old Indian cave. The outside was a huge ceiling. If we'd had headtorches it would have been interesting to have a look in the small interior. Leaving the cave we made out way along the ridge which was now flatter and friendlier and headed up to Calloway Peak (1818m). As we both hiked up through the trees I think we were both thinking I hope its not too far. It wasn't, and we were soon on a large flat top in amongst bushes, small trees and long grass. In trying to find the top we were not the proud recipients of the "22B Baker St Award" for summit finding. After about 5 minutes of careful thought, consulting the map and realising that the track descended in both directions we arrived at the conclusion that we were actually on top of Grandfather Mountain (1818m). Worn out after straining our powers of deduction we took a break and some photos before heading back.

The trek back to the car park was pretty much the same and we moved at a leisurely pace. It never rained on us but it came very close. Climbing down all the ladders was done with ease and about 2 hours later we were back at the car park. Next to the car park was the "mile high" swinging bridge. We had a look around before jumping into the car and driving back down the steep wiggly waggly road which Forrest Gump ran up in the movie. The cloud still blocked out any good views.

Our next plan was to drive down to Mt. Mitchell, the highest mountain on the east side of the US. Our route took us down the Blue Ridge Parkway, a very scenic route on a beautifully smooth road that was devoid of any commercial traffic. The views from the road were extremely picturesque and I was very impressed. About an hour later we were driving up Mt. Mitchell and back into the cloud. The road terminated in a large car park, surrounded by some rather poor looking trees. The trees on the upper slopes of the mountain have allegedly died from air pollution. It did seem strange to us that only these trees had been affected and none lower down or on the adjacent mountains. Mt. Mitchell was my kind of mountain though. From the car it was a 200m walk up to the top (2037m). After effortlessly conquering it we did the usual photo shoot and headed back down to the car with hungry rumbling stomachs. Our mission was now to head into Asheville for a feast and to find a motel. This we did and had a well earnt meal in an Olive Garden followed by a swim, video and a good night's sleep in the Holiday Inn.

I started the next day with a swim which was followed by a longish drive south to Whiteside Mountain (1503m). Again the drive was very scenic and enjoyable. The guidebook said Whiteside was easy and would take only a couple of hours. It was also a popular rock climbing destination and its name came from the white granite cliffs that surrounded it. In the car park the weather didn't look at all promising. Our route was a loop basically going around the top of the mountain, taking in the high point, through damp woodland. Because of cloud, views were nonexistent. It wasn't a climb, we walked and talked about war and never realised when we passed over the highest point. Most of the route ws in the trees with one exposed section where the wind was rather strong. On that stretch we managed to see the upper sections of one of the cliffs. Unfortunately that was all we saw in the way of views. We were back at the car before we knew it and driving south towards Atlanta.

The other memorable excursions on the trip happened on the first weekend. The Saturday afternoon after the race we drove out to Stone Mountain with my father. Stone Mountain is supposedly the largest outcrop of granite in North America and in my opinion was not unlike Ayres Rock. The three of us hiked up to the top, had a coke, sat on a slope and watched some small looking golfers playing some interesting water holes well below. As impressive as the rock was I didn't spot any interesting routes for climbing. It was an interesting place though, one side of the rock had a huge engraving of three Civil War generals (sorry John but I can't remember all their names).

The following morning we were up at 5:30, which must have been hell for John as it was his second early morning in a row but was no problem for me as my body was on English time. We drove north just into Tennessee. It was an interesting drive for me. Once it got light it was very misty and rural. It felt like a damp misty morning in England. The nearer we got to our destination the hillier it got. John's plan was to take me white water rafting and it was a damn good one. Stopping at the first rafting establishment we got in with a group for a cheap $25 each. A bus took us up a road that ran beside the river. We were slightly downstream from where the Olympic kayaking events had taken place a few months earlier. The valley was full of trees and the early morning mist was still clinging to them. The drive of the bus, John whispered to me had a strong redneck accent, again it was very amusing to listen to. Once off the bus we carried our blue inflatable down to the water with three others plus guide, received a few dos and don'ts and set off. Going down through the rapids and bubbling water between the large rounded boulders was excellent fun. The slowly lifting mist and steep tree clad valley sides also added to the experience. We also had a long drift down a calm stretch where I jumped in and floated down. It was very relaxing. The sun by then had started to break through, clearing the mist and giving us blue sky patches and a little extra warmth. Back on board we went down through some more white water and ended up getting thrown out which came as a real surprise as the rapids there were small and we'd been through much bigger drops. We swam to the side and regrouped and set off again on the prowl for John's paddle which he had so carelessly and thoughtlessly lost. As we neared the end I was feeling quite cold and when we finally got back to the car it was nice to put some dry clothes back on. It had been great fun and a totally unexpected pleasure. We spent the rest of the day driving around the mountain roads of NE Georgia.

All in all my experiences in and around Georgia were excellent. John made some first class suggestions as to what we should do. I just hope that when he gets to the UK I can better him as a host and guide. It's good to know that the Southern USA branch of the Toyohashi Alpine Club is in good hands.