This week's blog idea started with the thought: "Has anyone skied down K2?" K2 is the world's second-tallest mountain, and is considered to be much more difficult to climb than Mount Everest. It has a fatality rate of around 25%, second only to Annapurna among the 8,000+ meter mountains. Here it is:
Pretty. (Note the talus slopes in the foreground.) To get an idea of the difficulty of the mountain, this is from Wikipedia:
The first woman to reach the summit was Wanda Rutkiewicz, of Poland, in 1986. The next four women to reach the summit were all killed in climbing incidents — three of them died descending from K2 itself, among them fĂȘted British mountaineer Alison Hargreaves in 1995, and Rutkiewicz herself died on Kangchenjunga in 1992. This led to the legend that K2 carried a "curse on women".
...
After Eun-Sun Oh in 2007, Cecilie Skog became the tenth woman to have summitted successfully (on 1 August 2008) but her husband, Rolf Bae, who was climbing with her, died during the descent along with 10 other climbers in the 2008 climbing accident.
So, has anyone skied it? Almost.
Last August, an American named Dave Watson made a nearly-successful attempt. He got to within 400 meters of the summit, managing to reach the top of the deadly "Bottleneck" of K2, and skied down from there. He was the first person to ski the Bottleneck, and this isn't too surprising. The Bottleneck is a narrow, steep (50-60 degrees) slope. Dangerous seracs hang over one side of the route. Seracs are blocks of ice, formed in glaciers, that look like this:
In steep routes, their main purpose appears to be falling at unpredictable times and squashing people. The biggest accident on K2 occurred in 2008 and killed eleven climbers, and six of these deaths were due to falling seracs at the Bottleneck. Two of the serac-related deaths were due to a serac cutting ropes and stranding people in the "death zone." The death zone (where the Bottleneck is) is the altitude at which the air is so thin that the body uses oxygen faster than it can take in oxygen. It's the altitude at which death is guaranteed if you get stranded there by, say, falling seracs.
Back to Dave Watson. He reached the top of the Bottleneck in the death zone next to the wall of seracs amid "chest deep" snow (first-hand account here). It was getting late, so he skied down K2 from the top of the Bottleneck. To quote from that source:
"As all of the other climbers were rappelling down the ropes, Watson prepared for his first turn down the 60-degree face, 10,000 feet above the team's basecamp. "Committing to that first turn," he writes, "was incredibly exciting." "
Hmm. No kidding.
After reaching base camp and realizing he wasn't dead yet, Dave Watson decided he was going to try to ski from the summit this year: 2010. Be sure to look for news of his next attempt. (Only so many times you can try this sort of thing before luck catches up to you and you get killed by a falling serac... knock on glacier.)
The sport of climbing mountains and skiing down is called ski mountaineering, and it's reasonably common on the less-technical mountains. I've seen ski mountaineers on Mount Adams, WA, and would like to try skiing that route myself. But there are, obviously, those who go ski mountaineering on the insanely technical mountains as well.
Kit Deslauriers was the first person to ski down the seven summits (the highest point on each continent), beating out Davo Karnicar by less than a month. Kit Deslauriers has an excellent website with pictures of her ski mountaineering. Click here to see the photos.
I'll leave you with a couple of pictures of ski mountaineering on Everest. Note the oxygen mask in the second photo.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Trip Report: Skiing on Loon Mountain
I've decided to add trip reports to my blog, but I'll keep them short unless they're awesome. Today I went skiing with Andrew on Loon Mountain in New Hampshire! It looked like this, with fewer clouds:
Time to introduce the euphamism that Peter L. invented: "finesse." Instead of saying, "This slope is icy crap," you say, "Well, this slope lends itself to finesse." Makes ice a lot more fun to ski on, actually. So, how were today's ski conditions, you might ask? Well, they lended themselves to quite a lot of finesse. I even went on my first finesse-filled double-black diamond! (All previous ones had nice snow did not lend themselves to much finesse.)
The view was pretty, though, and much fun was had.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Welcome to Talus Slopes!
Talus Slopes is a blog that I am starting as part of the Iron Blogger project. The idea is that I make at least one post a week, and if I ever miss one, I am required to donate $5 to the Beer Pool. Then once a month or so, all the Iron Bloggers go out for subsidized beer!
The initial focus of Talus Slopes will be outdoor expeditions and extreme sports of interest. Expect discussions of beautiful mountains, backpacking routes, natural wonders, and people jumping off cliffs with skis on their feet. As the blog goes on, I may branch off into discussions of other excellent activities I am passionate about, such as music and roleplaying.
(On that note, a shameless plug: my band that just formed up wrote a song last week for a competition called "Song Fight." You can read about Song Fight here. Go listen to my song by clicking here and clicking on my band name, "Soap Yourself." If you don't think the song sucks too much, consider voting for it!)
Finally, a bit of information about the title of this blog. A "talus slope" is a slope of accumulated rocks, generally formed at the base of cliffs. I learned about the term on a backpacking trip through Jefferson Park with my friend Eli A-J. The route directions told us to hike until we saw a talus slope, and then turn. As neither of us knew what the term meant, we had some fun speculating on how "talus-y" each of these slopes looked. Since then, we've become fans (perhaps even connoisseurs) of talus. Here are some characteristic talus slopes (click for larger images):
The initial focus of Talus Slopes will be outdoor expeditions and extreme sports of interest. Expect discussions of beautiful mountains, backpacking routes, natural wonders, and people jumping off cliffs with skis on their feet. As the blog goes on, I may branch off into discussions of other excellent activities I am passionate about, such as music and roleplaying.
(On that note, a shameless plug: my band that just formed up wrote a song last week for a competition called "Song Fight." You can read about Song Fight here. Go listen to my song by clicking here and clicking on my band name, "Soap Yourself." If you don't think the song sucks too much, consider voting for it!)
Finally, a bit of information about the title of this blog. A "talus slope" is a slope of accumulated rocks, generally formed at the base of cliffs. I learned about the term on a backpacking trip through Jefferson Park with my friend Eli A-J. The route directions told us to hike until we saw a talus slope, and then turn. As neither of us knew what the term meant, we had some fun speculating on how "talus-y" each of these slopes looked. Since then, we've become fans (perhaps even connoisseurs) of talus. Here are some characteristic talus slopes (click for larger images):
Pretty, aren't they? Maybe it's just me... Well, welcome to Talus Slopes! Enjoy your stay.
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