Incredible!

Ended up getting out into the alpine 14 weekends in a row this season, but finally was rained out this past weekend.  I may be able to sneak in one or two more scramble adventures before laying off for the shoulder season while snow accumulates at elevation, and then it'll be time to strap on aggressive snowshoes for winter trekking at elevation.

Most recent trip was the Sawtooth Slam in the Okanagan National Forest, with 25 miles and 7,700 ft gain over three days, touching the tops of Martin, Switchback and Bigelow along the way.  Was great spending two nights under the stars, visiting spectacular alpine lakes surrounded by Larch in their golden splendor.

For the next several weekends, if the mountains are socked in, then l will get out on the water, either kayaking or sailing depending on wind.

And Scrambling!

So the next test was to leave the trail and do some full-on cross country work.  

The weekend two weeks before Labor Day, I hiked to Ingalls Lake pass and then left the trail and navigated the ridge to Fortune Mountain and then onward to South Ingalls Peak.  Clambering up and down large scree fields, scrambling over and/or around gendarmes and ridge nobs, and wedging ones way up chimneys and through keyholes, has a way of taking ones mind off of how body parts are performing.  And low and behold, they all performed just fine.  

I took it nice and easy on this first non-boot-trail scramble since returning to the Alpine, and thoroughly enjoyed it.  It felt so great getting to my final objective, that I gave a loud whoop to the entire Ingalls basin (with a few return calls from technical climbers on the South Wall of Ingalls proper and on East Ingalls as well).  Not having come up from Ingalls Lake, it took me a while to find the safe way down from South Ingalls, and I had to retreat back up several times when my path led to technical terrain.  

At day's end my feet were tired and sore, but it has always been thus, and by the next day it was just general leg soreness associated with continuing to build endurance.  So another success!

With Fortune and South Ingalls under my belt, I pulled out Summit Routes to find a slam that might work for the three-day Labor Day weekend.  I went with hiking up into Phelps basin to scramble Dumbbell Peak and Greenwood Mountain.  Got a leisurely start on Saturday, leaving home by 7:30am and hitting the trail by 11am.  Made good time to the top of the basin and 2,600 elevation gain with overnight pack and plenty of time to make camp and forage on blueberries until I didn't care to eat another (and I really like blueberries)!

On Sunday, I chose another leisurely start, getting underway by 8am to ensure plenty of time for route-finding and generally allowing for a comfortable, unhurried pace.  Found the gully and the way around the waterfall, made progress to the uppermost scree field without event, and scrambled the tight chimney to the notch and then along the ridgeline to the summit of Dumbbell.  Chose to forego downclimbing the steep chimney and found a descent route to climbers left (skiers right) of the chimney via a series of steep-ish slabs and then traversed back to the starting point below the chimney.  One down and one to go!

Next, I traversed the scree field to the notch leading to that phenominal catwalk around the side of Dumbbell to snowfields and then the base of the broad ridge to the summit of Greenwood.  That catwalk has to be about the most sustained, intense, non-roped exposure with guaranteed catastrophic (unsurvivable) consequences of a mishap I have experienced.  Either that, or I'm just needing to get used to exposure all over again.  An hour to Greenwood summit and an hour back, and the rest of the afternoon was picking my way back down to camp.  Can't stress enough how helpful trekking poles have become when working through scree fields not steep enough to use hands, and where careful balance remains at a premium. 

The plan was to spend Saturday night at camp and walk out Sunday morning, so there was plenty of time for another heavy appetizer of fresh foraged blueberries before miso soup, turkey tetrazzini, hot cocoa and cookies.  I would have slept like a log that night, but the wind came up strong and my tent ---although well secured and pegged --- was flapping around and making all kinds a racket.  Eventually, I got some sleep.

And once again, only end-of-trail foot soreness to report.  I was singing songs along the outbound trail and came upon the trailhead unexpectedly and earlier than planned.  Surprise!  Already done!! Today, the day after, there is only the general aches and pains of muscle building and recovery.  

So at this point, I've got to say I am about as "cured" as one can expect.  There is still --- and always will be --- a "hitch in my giddy-up," so to speak, or in common vernacular, a certain unavoidable stiffness in my gate as a result of all the internal hardware.  Beats the alternative!

Many times over these last several years, I have doubted that I would ever be able to do what I did this last weekend.  That I would ever be able to get out there and hike, scramble, overnight, and go the distance.  It has taken a long time, and a lot of trial and error, to determine the causes and test the fixes for one post-trauma mechanical pain-point symptom after the next.  

After this weekend, I can't help but be confident of being pretty well dialed in and ready to step back onto the path of my climbing journey, still with some catch up to get where I was before this calamitous detour began, but with a reasonable expectation of being able to continue onward. 

Throughout these summer hikes and during the last two weekends of off-trail scrambling, I have been internally chanting, "thank you, thank you, thank you" to doctors, nurses, technicians, and the rest of Harbor View trauma care and the hospital crew, the Anderson House skilled nursing center team, staff at the Ballard Landmark Senior Living Community, my orthotics specialists, master cobbler, family and friends.  And especially I raise my hands and heart in thanks to whatever cosmic power of goodness inhabits our universe and has allowed me to once again experience the wonder and beauty of our natural world.

Back in the Alpine!

Finally back in the alpine this summer, and I have been literally retracing my steps to rebuild conditioning. 

Tomorrow will make the seventh weekend in a row.  I have done Mt. Teneriffe, Mt. Washington, Defiance Peak, Granite Mountain, Kaleetan Peak, and Red Mountain (in the Commonwealth Basin), and tomorrow I will do Mount Dickerman on the Mountain Loop Highway.  By now I have regained sufficient stamina to lead basic climbs with relatively short approaches such as The Tooth, South Early Winter Spire, Kangaroo Temple, the South Face of Ingalls, and the like.  By the end of this winter coming scramble season, I should have attained a conditioning level to climb at a level prior to the fall.  

What has changed, allowing me to get back into the Alpine?  

Where the left ankle joint used to be just flat out painful, for some inexplicable reason it really isn't a bother any more, and there remains plenty enough range of motion for alpine work in trail shoes and sturdy mountaineering boots. There was a period of time when the pain was so distracting after just a couple of miles of walking that I was seriously considering either fusing the ankle (but with zero range of motion) or removing the whole blasted thing and replacing it with a blade.   Thankfully, my affection for the foot and ankle overcame my frustration at the pain, and somewhere along the way, the pain receded to a point where I am doing 14 mile days with 4k elevation gain. 

Also, the left hip used to get really sore because of differing leg lengths as the result of reconstruction after the fall (as well as from the cracked left femur from an intervening bike accident).  Initially, I went with an orthotic insert in the right shoe to equalize leg length, but that didn't quite do the trick because although the orthotic resolved the height difference at the heel, as it tapered to leave room inside of my shoe for my foot, the effective adjustment was next to nothing at the ball of my foot, so when walking I was still pushing off with the ball of my foot on a leg significantly shorter than it should be.  It took way too long to realize that what I really needed was a 3/4" lift added to the full length of all of my right side footwear (including trail shoes and mountaineering boots).  I found a fantastic cobbler with skills in slicing off soles, adding lift material, and gluing everything back together, and voila, I was back to a near-perfect equalization of leg length.  

Strangely, lifting the right foot resulted in a new aggravating pain on the outside of the left foot and on the pad under the base joint of the little toe, and once again, it took way too long to figure out that a new custom orthotic for the left foot --- contoured to give extra room in the painful areas and support in the surrounding areas --- could resolve that pain. 

The most recent "aha!" moment was resolution of unusually fast building callous on the pads under the base joints of both little toes, which made it feel as though I was walking on thumb tacks!  The solution this time was to aggressively grind off the callous using a very rough metal rasp after each bath or shower.  The rasp is so rough that it will tare normal skin, and I grind away on the callouses until I begin to feel something.  Those callouses don't stand a chance!  

It is feeling as though the way is clear for doing distance and elevation gain with increasing pack weight to rebuild muscle and stamina, and the hikes this summer seem to have born this out thus far.  I'm probably carrying an additional five pounds of reconstructive gear in feet, ankles, hip, and back, so I'll need to eliminate most all non-contributing body mass, and at 57 years of age that isn't as easy as it once was, but believe me I am not complaining one iota.

Goals?  Hmmm, . . . before the fall I was working on the top 100 peaks in Washington State.  I suppose there's no harm in continuing along that path, and not making any promises on getting there, but there's zero chance unless I continue to take it just one step at a time.  

Should be fun!