Cross-training Climb in the Cirque – By Adam Swisher

A couple of weekends ago a friend and I hiked into the Cirque of the Towers in the Wind River mountains with the objective of climbing the East Ridge of Wolf’s Head peak (5.6 IV)–one of North America’s fifty Classic climbs. Normally I wouldn’t consider this a training weekend, just a fun foray into the mountains, but trying to make it happen on a time crunch turned a leisurely backpacking and climbing trip into a 36 hour peak bagging assault. On a lovely June Saturday afternoon we left the parking lot at Big Sandy and cruised up to the cirque weighed down by packs of climbing and camping gear. At around 5pm we arrived at our camp. I set up the shelter and moved our gear in while my climbing partner Preacher assembled some delicious cheese and summer sausage sandwiches for dinner. We dined in the glory of the surrounding peaks and glassed our objective with binoculars. When we had our fill of food and route beta, we retired to the shelter where, much to Preachers dismay, I immediately fell asleep (I later found out that he barely closed his eyes that night).

The next morning we woke at 430am, and after a delectable backcountry bagel and lox, set out across the valley for Wolf’s Head. There was a lot of snow in the Cirque, but at such an early hour it proved to be firm enough to support our weight. At the base of the climb I racked up and led out onto the grassy ledges. It was cold and wet. Ice had formed in many places and made upward progress difficult. I backed down and second guessed myself a number of times, but finally made it up to the saddle. From there I cruised up some really cool exposed terrain. Looking down past my feet I could see the valley floor roughly six hundred feet down on either side of the knife edge ridge-line. Amazing! When I got to the infamous piton pitch I could feel myself getting tired. I was slightly psyched-out from leading every pitch and the climb’s immense exposure. To make matters worse, there was a huge block of snow covering up the first couple of pitons and forcing me to climb way out on the edge of the starting ledge. Somehow I mustered the courage to move past it, but by the end I was mentally drained. We reached the summit sometime around 5pm and after a brief celebration began our decent (which proved to be almost as tricky as the climb itself).

Once off the climb, we walked a sporty mile or so across very punchy snow to camp, arriving at around 830pm. This is normally the pointwhere climbing parties eat, sleep, and relish in their achievement. Not us. Preach whipped up some more sandwiches and I packed up the shelter. Next thing we knew, we were hiking the 12 miles to Big Sandy in the dark. By the time we made it to the truck at 130am I was totally worked. And, for that reason I didn’t really have much of a reaction when I discovered that the battery was dead. I simply told Preach of the situation, wished him a good night, and fell fast asleep in the bed of the truck. If this trip wasn’t good training, then I don’t know what is. – Adam