Scarlets – First Ascent of White Mountain Spire
White Mountain Spire
The route follows the cleanest line just right of the center
Photo by Lee Lambert
“Lets climb that.”
Mark Sonnenfeld was looking at a thin crack on an overhanging prow almost a thousand feet above us. From where we were it was impossible to tell if it was climbable, or even if we could get there.
“Sure.”
We were standing below a huge unclimbed wall on the flanks of Mt. White, in central Colorado. Mark spotted the wall years before when he was doing geology field work in the area, and finally badgered me into trying to climb it.
“Could be veg-med,” he told me. Meaning that the cliff looked good, but the climbing might suck.
With this in mind, I sized up the lower part of the wall. It was slabby, and a bit brushy. I picked the hardest, cleanest, line up the lower wall. It looked like it would be easier than we wanted, but at least the climbing would be good. And it lead nicely toward Mark’s crack, so we had a plan.
Now, plans like this aren’t worth much on a first ascent. Especially since we’d never even touched the wall, and had no idea what we were up against. But, if you’re going to make a plan, it might as well be a good one.
A few hours later, I was working my way up a thin corner that faded out a ways below the belay. While the climbing was excellent, it was anything but easy. Insecure and sustained climbing, with poor and difficult to place protection. I fixed a few pins, but they weren’t very good.
It didn’t help that half of my mind was focused on the end of the pitch, where the corner faded away, and the protection would disappear entirely. The fact that I’d refused to bring a bolt kit along didn’t help either.
Amazingly, as the corner faded the holds improved. It was thrilling, but I was able to run it out to the belay.
Things eased off a bit, and we soon found ourselves below Mark’s crack. It was very steep, and a bad size: thin hands. Mark was good at that kind of climbing though, and sent it with a minimum of fuss. I had to fight like hell on it, but managed to second it without falling.
This was followed by another very difficult section, with just enough protection to get through the hard part, and a big runout above. I regretted, again, not bringing the bolt kit.
Some easy climbing brought us to the final spire. It was about forty feet tall, and was shaped like the blade of a screwdriver. There were no cracks. There was no gear. Without a bolt for the summit, we would have to down climb to get off.
I messed around with it for a while. It would be a precarious barn-door layback up the edge of the pinnacle, and harder on the way down. I’d had enough fear for one day, so we left the final spire unclimbed.
That evening we celebrated by consuming a few “Scarlets.” (Officially a “Scarlet O’Hara” – whiskey and cranberry juice.)
Scarlets – IV 5.12a R (10 pitches, five stars)
Note: I returned a few years later with Brian Hansen and, after climbing another new route, climbed the final spire. We had a bolt kit this time…
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