The next day it was on to Nebraska. We were going to be seeing Dave and Bryce soon enough on the river so we took off and zoomed on down I-80 to Cortland and then to Beatrice. Eric was worried he wouldn't have much fun in Nebraska for July 4th but my cousin Fred and their guests had enough fireworks to fight a small war. Aside from their attempt to launch a rocket at me it was all good fun.
Next day we headed to my uncle Wilfred's and the kids got to play with the big toys. Watching Jay drive a full-sized bulldozer tilted about 30 degrees to the side was too much for me but Wilfred said "don't worry - these things never tip over". Right. Jay soon had enough of the big machines but Eric kept at it and even got to help with some real work. We called up Steph, my cousin, and invited her to climb with us in Kansas. This worked for her and (with minor delays due to vapor lock) we forged on.
So there we were in "Rock City". Not "City of Rocks". Not "Rock City, Tennessee". And not "City Rock".
What's in "Rock City"? Concretions. Lots and lots of concretions. A concretion is a compact mass of mineral matter, usually spherical or disk-shaped and embedded in a host rock of a different composition. Concretions form by precipitation of mineral matter about a nucleus such as a leaf or a piece of shell or bone.
So what's cool about these concretions? They are BIG! Most are about 6 or 7 feet high; some are 15 feet high. And they have cracks. Horizontal and vertical, some straight and some swirly. So what do you do? Climb!!! These are some of the coolest looking boulders anywhere. There were plenty of routes at all grades, most with nice grassy landings. Plus there were tons of good photo opportunities; I had a blast taking pictures of all the action.
We arrived at Rock City late in the day - nobody else was around. There were lots of signs on the road - there were no problem finding the climbing. But it was totally unlikely - no sign of rock for 1000 miles and then you turn a corner and suddenly there's a whole field of them. Unfortunately there were only a few that were big enough to present more than a couple of moves, but everyone had a blast. Great place for the kids too - Jay was all over the place. Definitely enough bigger problems to justify a side-trip. Good beginner place too.
So after lots of pictures and climbing, we left Steph and headed for Denver, arriving way late (as usual).
We took a rest day in Denver - played Putt-putt golf, used up the REI dividend, and (best of all) visited Dave and Amy to see Sam - now a couple of months old. He was totally cute but poor Dave and Amy were not getting much sleep.
The next day my brothers and I all had to drive up to Aspen for the family reunion. Since everyone was leaving late in the day, Marti, Eric, and I decided to head up early and go kayaking on the Arkansas.
We started on the Numbers. Eric was feeling good but Marti hadn't been boating as much. After running #1, Marti decided she would rather do something a bit easier. So Eric and I headed on down to the bridge above #5 while Marti walked back to the car.
Eric was feeling pretty heroic. No problems at all in #2 or #3. Soon we joined the crowd at Pyramid Rock in #4. This is the traditional endo spot and we both had at it. Unfortunately, I wasn't getting much action at all but Eric was the undisputed endo king, putting everyone else to shame. We stayed quite a while and Eric was having a blast but he was doing lots of rolls and probably getting a bit tired.
Finally we took off downstream. Just a bit lower I sent him into a big surf wave. This knocked him over and he seemed pretty tired rolling up. Soon another wave caught him and he had a really hard time rolling. We took out at the bridge and waited for Marti. Eric didn't think #5 looked too bad but he was tired and really needed some food (we hadn't eaten lunch) so we all headed to Buena Vista and chowed down.
It was getting late but we had time for a quick run down Browns. This was a lot easier and nobody had any trouble. Eric was mad at himself for missing the biggest waves in the Zoom Flume but otherwise had no complaints. When we hit the swimming spot about a mile above Hecla, Marti went on ahead to hitch back to the car while I launched Eric off the diving rock a bunch of times (about 12' or so above the river) to entertain rafters.
Marti soon arrived with the car and we headed up to Snowmass in the fading light to meet everyone else. We were staying in a nice condo and had quite a deluxe stay up there with the family.
The next morning my brothers all went on a hike I didn't want to do so we decided to head to Marble with Grandma and Grandpa. The drive up is along the Crystal River and we enjoyed seeing some classic whitewater as we drove. We stopped for lunch just below Marble and the river looked really nice even though it was pretty low. I talked Eric into running it solo while I took photos. This worked out really well and both Grandma and Grandpa thought he made it look really easy. There was a big drop a ways after the second culvert and Marti was really worried about sending Eric down alone but he had no problems.
After that we all took a short hike on the road up toward the pass beyond town. It started raining a little so everyone except Grandpa and I ran back. That evening we all played games and had a great time.
The next day we all went to Glenwood Canyon. My brother Jim and his wife Carolyn headed to Fruita while Jay went Grandma, Grandpa, and my brothers Alan and Doug to Hanging Lake. Marti and Eric and I took Eric's cousins, Catherine and Diana, on the Shoshone run. We did two runs without a hitch. Marti was worried about scaring the girls so we told them the rapids were named "Fuzzy Bunny" and "Happy Happy Joy Joy" instead of "Widowmaker" and "Tombstone" but an unfortunate sign posted at the put-in gave the secret away. Eric was in his hard boat on both runs while Marti and i took turns piloting the inflatable.
After lunch Doug and Grandpa arrived so I took Doug down Shoshone and had Grandpa join us at Grizzly Creek. Then I had Doug take over the boat, threw Grandpa in, and sent them on down in Eric's care. Grandpa is now 80 but he's gotten much braver in the water and had no problems on the easy run down into Glenwood. Meanwhile I hiked up to find Grandma, Alan, and Jay still on the trail. Grandma's back is better but her knees aren't doind as well and it took a long time for her to hike downhill. That was all she was up for so we called it a day and went out to dinner in Glenwood.
The next day turned out to be a rest day. Marti had left her craft project somewhere by the river so we went looking for it to no avail. The kids headed up to the Maroon Bells and had a good time with Alan trying to fish.
We all headed back to Denver the next day. Everyone else was driving straight back but I dragged the family out climbing on Independence Pass. We went to the Pass Wall, right next to the road, and selected two routes. Eric tried to lead a 5.8 sport route at the far end while Jay and I worked on a 5.7 (Alley Oop) near the left end. Jay "belayed" me as best he could but I had no intention of falling. The first part of the climb is a chimney and I felt solid on all the moves. I would have wedged into the chimney on a fall anyway. I thought the chimney would be the crux but NO! A very steep headwall about 20' high stood above me. OK - I wouldjust have to take it slow. I spent a lot of time putting in pro so that every move was under a piece. I figured that if I fell I could catch myself with no problems. Finally I reached an old pin and contemplated the real crux. Fortunately, Marti and Eric suddenly appeared; Eric had backed off a 5.8 (ha! serves him right for all the grief he gives me at the gym) and Marti now took over for Jay. This made everything seem a lot easier and I was soon up. Both Marti and Eric thought the route was pretty burly - definitely an "old school" 5.7. Marti was convinced that Jay would never make it but he just flew up the thing, finessing all sorts of reach moves I had done. Except for the entrance to the chimney he never even slowed down.
That was enough climbing for the day. We headed back to Denver and spent the next day being nice to the kids by taking them to Waterworld. Eric really wanted his kayak in the wave pool.
We were just about to the date of our river permit - just one more day in Denver. Marti, Eric, and I went to Rocky Mountain to hike but got rained out at Mills Lake. Oddly enough, Eric didn't even whine about hiking and even seemed to enjoy himself.
Finally we were ready for Lodore. We drove up on I-7; as we passed through Glenwood Canyon Eric and I decided to take a quick run down Shoshone. Everything was going fine until the 3rd rapid (the one that turns right). He had been so confident that I wasn't even botheringn to look at him while in the rapid. When I stopped at the bottom he was a way behind. I waited and he pulled in hopping mad. Evidently he had flipped at the very top of the rapid and had taken 5 or 6 attempts to roll up in the thick of it before he finally succeeded. I'm not sure what help I would have been able but he thought I had neglected my fatherly duties. At least he hadn't swam. This was the first time he had needed to roll in a big rapid and I think it was harder than he expected.
After that we were a bit more careful and soon were back in the car. Onward to Lodore! After a stop in Craig for groceries we hit the put-in ahead of everyone else. Soon Alastair, Henrik, and Martin were there. Then our raft arrived and we helped get it in the water. It was blowing hard and Marti, Henrik, and Martin had a real challenge to get camp set up. Alastair and I headed back to Vernal to meet Dave, Mike, and Bryce and run the shuttle. We pulled in late and were soon asleep.
Next morning we had to figure out how to pack the raft, listen the the launch-time ranger lecture, and get our butts on the river. We eventually got our act together and launched. Dave took the two kids in the ducky and Henrik rowed. The weather was nice except for a bit of an upstream breeze and everyone was impressed by the canyon.
About 3 or 4 miles down was the first rapid. Although Marti and I had done this before, it was completely different now with much less water. I didn't remember anything hard about Winnie's Rapid but at low water there's a big boulder right in the middle. The kayakers went first - no problems except that Mike Soo decided to swim instead of stay in the boat. Or maybe he thought head down was more fun than head up while boating but forgot that you can't breath in the head down position. Whatever.
The epic started when Dave launched the inflatable. Jay, eminently sensible, told Dave there was no way he wanted to run the rapid and got out and walked. Dave and Bryce lined up right in the middle and went for it. Unfortunately "it" was the rock in the middle of the river. Just before the rock Dave decided to move to the side. But Dave wasn't in a light, responsive hard boat, he was in the inflatable barge! Instead of delicately sliding around the rock, his stroke barely moved the boat and the boat was swept sideways onto it. Fortunately Bryce fell out and was washed quickly around the rock to be rescued by the kayakers. But Dave was pinned against the rock along with the boat. Fortunately he managed to extract himself from the water and climb over the well-pinned boat to the top of the rock.
Getting the boat off the rock took a lot of effort. Eventually we had to do some serious rock climbing (to get me up Dave's rock), tie two throw ropes to the boat, and all pull like hell. Finally we managed to get the boat unwrapped and back in the river. No major damage and everyone was OK but it was quite a demonstration of the force of the river.
We had some lunch and then headed on down. We were worried about two rapids in particular: Upper Disaster Falls and Hell's Half Mile. Upper Disaster was pretty easy - a single drop with an easy and hard side. Eric ran the hard side and managed to flip (and roll; Eric hasn't taken a swim all year) but everyone got down without too much effort. Lower Disaster and Triplet Falls were no real problem - the hardest part was getting the raft past all the rocks in the shallow water. Henrik was turning into an expert rafter and had no problems other than a few spots where he had to get out and push the raft over a rock.
Finally we hit the big one: Hell's Half Mile. This is the hardest rapid of the trip and was one of the most frightening rapids I had ever done at high water. At low water, though, it didn't look too bad. A short drop led into fast water that smashed into a rock in the middle of the river. The channel was too narrow to allow the raft to line up to the side of the rock so it would obviously take a very fast eddy turn to miss this rock. Below the river remained rocky but not too hard.
Alastair went first and had no problems at all. I asked Jay and Bryce to walk around the rapid to be safe. The other kayakers also had no trouble although Martin decided to do it the hard way but probably not on purpose. Mike ran with Dave in the inflatable (no problems) and, for the grand finale, Henrik went for it in the raft.
We knew this would be hard and everyone was in position to help out except me - I was taking pictures. Henrik did his best but couldn't pull the raft around the rock and hit it dead on. I'm sure I couldn't have done any better - it was HARD in a big raft. The raft stood straight up and Henrik did the smartest possible thing - he jumped off. Without his weight, the raft tipped to the right and fell upright onto the other side of the rock - whew! I was so worried we were going to flip the raft I didn't even take a picture. With Marti and Alastair to help, Henrik climbed back into the raft. The only casualty was an oar that disappeared under the water and never popped up again.
Unfortunately Dave and Mike had jumped in the water to help chase the raft, leaving the kids stranded upstream. It took a while to get them down to the inflatable and put everyone back in the right boat but we finally made it. Camp was another mile down at "Rippling Brook", an extremely scenic spot. It was getting late so we quickly pitched camp and chowed down.
We all slept in a little too long the next morning. The camp was in a deep canyon and it was long before the sun finally reached us. We also hiked up to the falls above camp (very nice), making our departure even later. This wouldn't have been a problem except that as the day wore on the wind picked up. Wind didn't bother kayaks much but the raft was another story. Alastair was rowing and at a particularly flat and shallow spot near Echo Rock the wind nearly brought him to a dead stop. Even with Marti and Martin helping, it took a long time to get down the section past Steamboat Rock.
We declared lunch even though we were only 4 miles down. Alastair was exhausted so I took over rowing. Jay and I decided to start early since he could feed me while I rowed. The river does a 180 degree turn here so I started out with a downstream wind - what a deal! Jay and I entered Whirlpool canyon alone. It was really dramatic with steep cliffs into the river on both side. Fortunately the rapids were easy and we made good time. Five or six miles later the yakkers caught up. We were at Jones Hole, a popular side-hike, and we decided to split up: I would take both kids while everyone else hiked to the falls and petroglyphs. This worked out quite well: everyone had a good time playing in a small waterfall that you can "turn off" by sitting in the streambed above. When you stand up, a huge rush of water drops on anyone standing under you in the falls.
The kids and I had to do a lot of work to get to camp against the wind. Fortunately they kept me well supplied with food and drink while rowed for all I was worth. We finally made camp at the "Cove" and I started setting up the tents. Everyone else arrived just before dark and we cooked by flashlight. It was an excellent campsite and everyone had a nice evening.
For the last day, we resolved to get on the river before the wind kicked up. By getting up before 7 we were on the water by 9. This worked perfectly - we did the 8 flat miles below camp before 11am. As we floated through Island Park something was bothering me - there was a strange bump under my leg as if a small stone had fallen into my boat but it seemed to move from place to place. Then I felt it wiggle - a haunted kayak? I popped out and looked in and found a good size toad sitting down inside my boat. I grabbed the poor thing and showed him to everyone else and then let him swim away. But Eric caught him and decided to adopt him and name him "Fred" For the next 3 or 4 miles Fred sat on Eric's spray skirt, watching the canyon get closer. He seemed totally calm and Eric stroked his back. Eventually Eric set him free before we hit the rapids.
Then the final canyon: Split Mountain. The second rapid, SOB, proved to be a major pain in the ass. The raft got stuck in the middle and it took a lot of work by Martin and Alastair to get it going again. Below this we ate lunch and took some good whitewater photos in "Schoolboy" afterward. We arrived at the end of the trip at 4pm, right on schedule for our raft pickup. It was a fine day in perfect weather - a great end to the trip.
Packing up took a while. Brave Sir Dave "volunteered" to clean the groover for us (yay Dave!) and we eventually got everything sorted and packed away. After dinner in Vernal, we split up. Alastair took Martin and Henrik to SLC while Dave, Bryce, and Mike joined us in driving to Rock Springs.
We all enjoyed a motel that night and a leisurely breakfast. We drove to Jackson and snagged a crappy campsite on the Snake then went playing around in town a bit. We obtained local climbing beta and headed for the fabled Jenny Lake boulders. What a ripoff! Mike and I hiked in to check them out and they were dinky! And there were just 3 of them - no more anywhere else! Since our idea was to climb with the kids we had to go to Plan B: Boulder City.
The good news was that Boulder City was a perfect place for us. The bad mews was that the guidebook had totally bogus directions so we managed to get temporarily lost. But once we found the rocks everyone had fun. Bryce thought climbing on a rope was pretty scary so Jay and I found a small problem that he could work out slowly while the others did bigger climbs. It was getting dark: a black cloud rolled in off the Tetons. I grabbed the kids and we ran for the car just in time to miss the storm. Everyone else got soaked but it was worth it.
Next up: the Snake River. But first Dave, Mike, and I decided to do some sport climbing while the day warmed up. There was a small crag just up from the camp a few miles. We jumped on a 5.9 sport route and promptly had mini-Epic. All I can say is that ethical rules were violated and that tall people use different holds than short people.
We headed back to camp and drove to the Alpine Canyon put-in. Marti dropped us off and then took the boys to town so Bryce could get a wetsuit. Mike took the soft boat while Dave, Eric, and I took real boats. Fun was had by all - Dave survived both Big Kahuna and Lunch Counter upright and smiling. On the second run, Dave took Bryce in the inflatable while Mike shuttled with Jay. Jay was in "anti-kayaking" mode and we figured he had done enough in Lodore. Mike followed us down and after Lunch Counter, Bryce decided to get out early.
That evening we camped in the northern part of Teton Natl Park. We hit the campground late: Dave was in the lead; we saw him stop at the entrance booth for a while then drive through. As we passed we noticed they posted a list of empty campsites. Cool. We followed Dave as he drove randomly around, never finding a vacant spot. Finally I asked Dave if all the sites listed on the booth had been full. Huh? They tell you where the empty sites are? Dave was clueless again. We headed back, copied down campsite numbers, and were soon in a spot.
We spent a whole day hanging around Yellowstone. Geysers erupted. Pools steamed. Mud pots blorted. Nobody fell in scalding water. Fun was had by all. We split up - Mike, Dave, and Bryce headed back while the Petersons stayed in a motel and relaxed.
Next up was Montana. I had never climbed in Montana and was keen to bag another new state. As we approached Butte, we passed some nice rocks that were in our guidebook. We hopped out at a rest area and Eric and I walked down an abandoned rail line to see what was up. Halfway there I turned to Eric and yelled "Train!". The poor little guy was completely suckered and just about bolted into the woods before he saw the grin on my face. He spent the rest of the day trying to get Marti and Jay to jump but they never took the bait.
Anyway, we found a short non-descript route with a small overhang, an easy bit, and a bolted slab. Eric backed off the first move. Jay wanted to try too but he got scared when the pro wasn't over his head so Eric tried again and made the first crux. But at the second bolt he couldn't figure anything out and backed off. Marti was keen to finish the route so she traded with Eric and spent a long time working on the greasy slab above. She was getting frustrated and finally made a few moves. She was above the bolt, almost to a good hold, when her feet popped. It would have been a trivial fall EXCEPT she managed to hook her knee around the rope. Ouch. I lowered her and she was in obvious pain as well a really mad at herself for messing up. Jay helped her limp back to the car while Eric and I did one more route.
I went up and couldn't get anywhere. Time for a new route. Eric and I hiked down to another rock, the Gillette Edge. This had a very nice sounding 5.7 up a sharp arete. Looked good!
This was a much better climb than the last one. A good hand crack led up to a spot where the rock pinched down to razor thickness. Although I had great hands, the footholds and pro were a bit sparse and the climbing was quite exciting. Arriving at the top, I found no place to sit or stand - the rock was only 3 or 4 inches wide. Instead of sitting with the blade up my butt, I placed a sling around the summit and lowered of to belay at the base of the rock. Eric followed and found the route quite exciting. When he hit the top I held the rope and he rapped the other side of the blade. Big fun.
We headed back to the car and found Marti was still in pain. After a late lunch in Butte, we headed on to Spokane to see Marti's sister Nina and let Marti take a day off.
Nina handled her unexpected company without complaint. The next day I took her kids out climbing at the local boulders. Everyone had a great time and Eric got to do some leading. But we were cut short by rain and decided to hit the road again for Glacier.
After spending the night in Kalispell, we hit the local kayak store and got beta on the Middle Fork of the Flathead. Marti shuttled (in spite of the painful knee) while Eric and I got to have all the fun. We did just the lower part of the run where all the rapids were. The flow was low and the rapids were easy. The water was extremely clear - visibility was well over 10 feet and we often seemed to be floating in air. Definitely one of the best runs we had all summer! At the end, Eric kept jumping off the bridge at the take-out instead of helping load the boats. What a useful kid.
From there we had a lot of driving to do - up over Logan Pass and into Canada. We arrived at Martin Jagersand's house around midnight and snuck into the basement.
The next day I worked at the University of Alberta while the rest of the gang relaxed and hit the science museum. It was my first dose of email in over a week and it took a long time to catch up.
We decided to split up the next day. Marti and the boys were going to join Martin and drive to Jasper while I continued to work. A friend of Martin's, Donna, was also going along.
That was the plan but it didn't work out. Martin's VW, Poppy, blew her transmission before they even got out of town and they came running back (in 3rd gear only!) to work out a new plan.
Martin and I rented a car to replace Poppy. Martin and company took off leaving me with the rental. They actually had time to kayak a bit on the Athabasca that evening before I joined them at the campground.
In the morning, the weather looked good and we headed for Mount Robson. Instead of boating, we all hiked up the Berg Lake trail. Marti made it to Kinney Lake, the kids and I to almost the far side of the lake, and Martin and Donna made it to the start of the falls. The kids soon grew bored will all my stories of the old days. The views were superb and it brought back a lot of old memories.
On the drive back, we decided to take a quick run on the Miette river near Jasper. We put in at a nice class II+ rapid but the river soon turned flat. The last part of the trip was dead flat so we brought Donna and Jay into the boats. This was Jay's first time in a hard boat for the trip and he did very well. We were really hoping to see a moose or something but had to settle for a beaver.
The hard part of kayaking in the Rockies was finding appropriate runs. Most were either flat or very hard. The book was full of Class V and big portages. We finally settled on a class III- run, the Whirlpool. Very, very scenic! The water was milky white and very cold; the rapids had some huge waves but were unobstructed. It was too hard for Donna but Martin, Eric, and I had a great time. We were getting cold so we headed back to Jasper for lunch and then drove to Maligne canyon. There was a nice class II+ there but Donna didn't like the looks of it so we decided to hike instead. It was raining fairly hard but the canyon was still very pretty and we all had a good walk.
Martin and Donna headed back to Edmonton while the Petersons got out of the rain by taking in a movie. Next morning, we drove south to meet Greg and Dorothee. The day was gray and cloudy so we decided to skip hiking and head indoors. Greg headed back to Banff while we went to Radium Hot Springs for some swimming.
The next day was mellow: we hiked at Marble Canyon and then checked into the hotel in Banff and waited for Greg. Greg and Dor had been on a fairly long hike so they weren't up for anything big but I managed to talk Greg and Eric into some sport climbing at Grassi Lake. We started on a seriously grid-bolted wall of vertical holes. Eric backed off a 5.9 so I got to lead. Then we headed over to the "Golf Course" where there were some nice easy sport routes; Eric had no problems leading a 5.5 there. It was a really pretty place with some small lakes and views of the big limestone walls above us.
Next day I was at the conference presenting my paper. In the evening I headed back to Grassi with Martin, Jay, and Donna. By this time Eric had played his Weird Al tapes so many times that Jay was also addicted. Jay insisted that Martin and Donna hear Weird Al on the drive and by the end of it they had absorbed a lifetime supply of "Dare to be Stupid" and "I'm Fat". I don't think they ran out to buy Weird Al CD's as soon as they returned. At the rocks, I took pictures while Jay led another 5.5. It was pretty gripping for me - Jay was completely solid though and had no problems. Donna and Martin had no problems either. Then Martin led the adjacent route and we were done.
Greg and I had a plan the next morning: be heroic. We waffled for a while over what to do: a 15 pitch 5.6 near Grassi or a more alpine climb? In the end we chose the standard route on the Grand Sentinel near Lake Louise. The Grand Sentinel is a 300 foot spire made out of quartzite that marks Sentinel Pass. The first crux is the hike in: the trail from Moraine Lake to the pass is pretty brutal but very scenic. Greg and I took a couple of hours to reach the pass and see our objective. Unfortunately the rock isn't right at the pass. You have to cross an endless slope of loose rock and traverse some snowfields.
Of course we didn't have ice axes and I was wearing some crappy $20 tennis shoes. Using a sharp rock as an imitation ice axe, I slowly crossed the first snowfield. Actually it wasn't too bad but I was gripped. It was also unnecessary - we could have climbed down under the snow but we were being stubborn. Greg had no problems and we proceeded to cross a couple of more snowfields. Fortunately another party had left good steps and it was mostly casual.
Some more loose scree and we were at the base. Another party was on the arete, a 5.10 sport climb, but there was nobody above us on the standard route. This was good since I didn't have a helmet. Greg wore my kayak helmet and was glad to have it when he was under me on the belays. The first pitch was the worlds hardest 5.4 - although it was pretty easy, it was dead vertical and a bit unnerving. I decided to keep going onto the next pitch - 5.7 cracks leading to a huge dihedral.
The hard part was finding the easiest line. It was obvious that you could climb nearly anywhere on the well-featured rock but finding a 5.7 line was tough. I finally figured out that I had to follow the chalk: it took me up, way left, up and right, and then through a nice crack to the belay.
The next pitch was the crux: a vertical dihedral with a wide crack. It turned out to be considerably easier than it looked: there were good cracks in the sides so I didn't need any big bros or offwidth technique. At the top was a small loose band and an improbable overhang. It looked tough but proved to be fun and I was at the belay.
The final pitch has two possibilities: a 5.9 crack and a 5.4 scramble. I chose the scramble. This was pretty cool - a chimney that cut all the way through the spire. The very top was sort of loose but easy and Greg and I were soon at the summit.
The views could have been better - many of the peaks were encased in cloud and it was threatening to rain. But it was a completely excellent place to be sitting. There was a party behind us so I opted to rap the sport route on the arete. This proved to be as exciting as going up: every rap was vertical or overhung and very exposed. But at least everything was just 25 meters so a single rope sufficed. The third rap was the worst: you had to swing in under a small overhang to grab the chains. The route we descended is a 4 pitch sport route that goes at 10d - it looked very well protected and I'll have to return and try it.
On the hike back I opted to avoid the snow and drop down lower. This was easy but made the trudge back to the pass that much longer. We flew down the trail and managed to return to Banff before 8, scoring major points with Dor for not epicing.
The last day of the conference was a workshop with Greg, Martin, and Zack (another ex-Yalie). I was sitting there, listening to Greg, when a guy in a suit came in and summoned me into the hall. "There's been an accident. But none of your family is hurt." Oh oh - sounds bad! Next, he phoned the RCMP. The lady said "There's been an accident. But none of your family is hurt." Obviously they didn't consider my poor Subaru a member of the family. Anyway, she told me where to go and informed me that they needed me. I grabbed Martin's rental car and blew off Greg's talk.
The car was on route 1A, a back road leading to Johnston Canyon. Marti and the boys were going to do one last hike there. I reached a spot where traffic was stopped and flashing lights could be seen in the distance. As I walked the road an ambulance passed me. Hmmmm. Turning a corner I saw the poor Subaru sitting by the road with its front totally destroyed. On the shoulder were the boys sitting with the kayaks (no longer on the roof) and Marti was by the car.
Marti explained what happened. They were driving along and there was a really big elk next to the road. The van in front of her, filled with Japanese tourists, stopped either to see the elk or because someone else stopped in front of them. She didn't notice and blammo! the subaru crunched into he van. The airbag went off, leaving abrasions on Marti's arms, and filled the car with smoke. Both kids were belted or they would probably have been right through the windshield. The kayaks rocketed off the roof, breaking the rear window of the van. The subaru was still rolling and the brakes didn't work; Marti had to use the parking brake to get it to stop. Eric was worried that the car was on fire because of the smoke but it was just from the airbag. Eric got a pretty decent bruise from his shoulder belt but that was all that happened to the kids.
Two passengers in the van were taken to the hospital but their injuries were not enough to be admitted. They had left just as I arrived - everyone was waiting for a tow truck to get the car off the road. I looked over the poor subaru and it was dead. It had passed on. This subaru was no more. It had ceased to be. It had expired and gone to meet its maker. It was a late subaru. It was a wreck. Bereft of life, it rested in peace. If it hadn't been tied to a tow truck it would be pushing up the daisies. Its mechanical processes were of interest only to historians. It had shuffled off this mortal coil! It had run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible! This was an EX-SUBARU! The front was completely smashed in and there was a lot of damage to the engine. It had almost 190,000 miles on it so it wasn't a major loss except that we were now stranded in the middle of Canada with no car. We transferred as much stuff as possible to the rental car but there was no way to carry the kayaks so we hid them down in the bush below the road. Soon the tow truck carried it off for Banff.
This left us with a major problem - how to get everyone home without a car. We soon found out that a one-way car rental was not going to work. One way plane tickets were outrageously priced. But finally priceline.com saved the day! Jay and I found a cheap flight out of Spokane. The only problem is we had to get to Spokane. Fortunately Martin offered to drive us as far as the border - his car couldn't be taken into the US - and Nina (Marti's sister in Spokane) was able to drive to the border from the US side. She couldn't cross either since she had a foster child with her. We drove back to the accident scene to pick up a kayaks and found the Eric's boat and the slime bags were gone! Damn! Someone must have seen us hiding them. Then we found out that the crappy rental car couldn't take yaks easily anyway so we gave up and headed for the border. After walking over the border, we drove to Spokane and arrived there in the wee hours. The flight back was uneventful and Jay I were back home.
Meanwhile, Marti and Eric had to get on a 4am bus for Denver. This also sucked - it took a day and a half for the them to get there and the passengers got weirder and weirder as the bus went south. They were glad to get to Grandma and Grandpa's house! They spend a week in Denver relaxing before flying back.
Finally, the boats. Poor Martin was stuck with everything we couldn't carry back. When he went back to the accident site the next morning he found Eric's boat hidden in some bushes - evidently whoever took our stuff had no place for a boat and meant to come back later. So in the end we lost mostly spray skirts and wetsuits. Martin got all the boats to Edmonton where I imagine they will stay until next summer. We're deeply in debt to him for all his help.
So that's it. We're all still in one piece and had a great trip, even if the ending wasn't as we planned.