12. Gannett Peak

Before

Sunday, August 1, 1982

Joe's journal:

We organized our gear and adjusted the crampons last night.  Today, we got up about 6:30, before the sun rose, fixed a hot breakfast, and left camp by 7:45. 

We took the Gooseneck Route to the summit of Gannett Peak.  Doug was having a difficult time with the thin air and couldn't keep up with our pace.  So he graciously decided to wait for us near the bottom of Dinwoody Glacier.


Our route ascended to Gooseneck Pinnacle and then up and to the right to the summit

Our route took us up Dinwoody Glacier until we traversed along a moat to Gooseneck Glacier.  We ascended toward the base of Gooseneck Pinnacle where we were momentarily stalled by a bergschrund. But we climbed up on some rocks to the left and regained the snow a few feet above the bergschrund. We went straight up the glacier to a rock rib which separated Gooseneck Glacier from the summit ridge snowfield.  From this point, it was less than an hour's climb to the summit.

A NOLS camp below Gooseneck Pinnacle

The moat


Above the bergschrund


Greg at Gooseneck Pinnacle

Summit Ridge

On the summit, we ate a quick lunch, took a lot of pictures, and dedicated our efforts to Gary Fergus who is celebrating his 26th birthday today.

On the descent, we were caught by a thunder/snow/hail storm just as we were getting off the rocks below Gooseneck Pinnacle.  But from there it was relatively easy glissading to the bottom.

Tonight, we are sitting in our tent as it rains outside.  We have eaten two well-deserved dinners.




Tom's journal:

We left camp at 7:42 this morning, having learned how long these things can take from No Man's Pass.  We don't have those heavy packs on this time, though, and it makes a world of difference.

We're carrying the ice axes, crampons, rope and other climbing gear, a little lunch and some extra clothing.  Rain gear.

It's now 8:26 and we're within sight of the peak.  We just got into the sunshine, which has two main consequences:  1) it's way warmer, and 2) I wish I had my sunglasses.

It's a clear morning.  We've gone up a couple of steep snowfields and Doug is having a hard time.  He offered to stay put, a very unselfish and appreciated gesture.

We saw a big group camped very high, and ran into them at the bottom of Goose Neck Pinnacle, crossing the bergschrund onto the ice.  One of them was from Canada.  They recommended we go up the rocks "because of the condition of the snow."

We got on the rocks and had gone about 15 feet when Joe put his crampons back on.  "Screw this.  I'm getting back on the snow."  And he did.  We crossed with him, roped up.

We got on rock one more time, then went up a steep slope - on the southwestern side, I think, of the peak.  We reached the top of this, and climbed a little hill to the summit.  

On one very steep little slope "Don't anybody slip," Joe said.  No shit, and good suggestion.  It was a long glissade down, provided of course any of us knew how to glissade.

What a view from up there!  How about that.  We took a picture or two, ate lunch, congratulated each other, took a few more pictures, congratulated each other some more, drank some lemonade, congratulated ourselves, took three or four hundred more pictures, put on every article of clothing we had, took a few more pictures, and then pissed into the Pacific watershed.









We were up there about 25 minutes, I'd guess, awestruck most of the time.

On the trip down, right at the steep part where Joe cautioned us the first time, I stuck a crampon in my pant leg and fell on my ass.  I cussed a minute, got up and did the same thing on the very next step.  Then I tucked my pants into my sock.  Greg was catching hell in the. middle of the rope.  When I slowed him down, Joe would jump him for hindering progress.  When Greg kept up with Joe, he damn near pulled me right off the side of the mountain.  I was my usual diplomatic self.  Ahem.

Our route descended the ridge from upper right to lower left, then down to the bergschrund



Negotiating the bergschrund

We got to Goose Neck Pinnacle, which was indeed the better route down.  We'd already removed the crampons and begun learning how to slide with some degree of control.  We also found out the self-arrest technique Joe showed us actually worked, which was handy to know.

Just as I got off the rock at the bottom of the pinnacle -- I was last going down -- it started to rain.  Then it snowed.  Then it balled the snow up into hail.  The damn things hurt, to tell the truth.


Actually, I thought that hailstorm was the highlight of the trip.  We were feeling so good coming down the mountain, sliding, falling, whistling merrily along right in the middle of an awesome storm.  It wasn't far above us at all, and it rumbled and echoed down the canyon.  We just put on our rain gear and kept going.

Then the storm stopped and the sun came out, a brief respite.  Doug was waiting on us, and by the time we got there it was precipitating again.  We walked out, practically floated out, both emotionally and literally, and it was sunny when we got back to camp.

We cooked up two dinners, a real treat, and of course ended up eating them in the tent.  Mother Nature, the bitch.  It was a tremendous sense of accomplishment, though.

Sitting in the tent, Joe and I noted that each time we'd done something to piss off the mountains, it had rained on us right afterwards.  "This could have happened earlier," we've decided she's telling us.  "Don't get too cocky."  Yes ma'am.

The trip took us about nine hours, camp to camp.  Stroganoff and doctored-up beef stew, plus some raw fruit cobbler.

Many whoops on the walk back.

Several of the pictures we took show us holding a sign wishing Gary a happy birthday.

After




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