Castleton Tower: Classic Climbing?
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| From camp |
Recently a climbing buddy and friend of mine got together and did a little catching up. Lukasz and I had taken a month long climbing trip in April/May of 2013. Our discussion brought to light many interesting facts for me. The first is that every time we see each other I get reminded of this great experience we had together, which I enjoy remembering, and can never be taken from me. The second is that as time passes the different climbs we did arrange themselves, and stand out in our memories, in different ways. We both agreed that the Kor-Ingalls route on Castleton Tower in Utah was important, perhaps the most significant or memorable climb of the trip. But why did both come to that conclusion? And what is the definition of a "classic" climb anyways?
So what attracted us to this climb? For me, it simply looked cool. Castleton Tower is 400' tall mass of geometric sandstone. The tower sits high on top of a 1000' dirt cone. It is beautiful, odd, intimidating and amazing at the same time. I felt like once I saw it, I had to climb it as a rite of passage. Another attraction is the rich history of Castleton Tower. The Kor-Ingalls route was first climbed in 1961 by Layton Kor and Huntley Ingalls. Kor, especially, is regarded as a pioneer in American climbing, known for his first ascents, drive and impressive physical presence. In climbing, as in life, I think it is important to follow in the footsteps of those who came before us as a sign of respect, admiration and to learn. Their route generally follows a left facing corner system, a striking visual line from ground to summit. An interesting obscure fact is that in 1964 Chevy dropped a car and a model atop the tower via helicopter and filmed a commercial.
Bizarre Chevy Commercial
All this attraction is interesting, inspiring and a wonderful to experience but there is also the experience of actually climbing the route. Things are quite different when thought becomes action. The guidebook, as is the case with many longer routes, very generally described Kor-Ingalls as a crack in corner system, with some chimney and OW sections. If you don't want to know what this route is really like (or at least my perspective of what it is really like) by all means stop reading! Go find out for yourself some day. If you are interested in my experience and thoughts keep right on going.
After nearly going insane the day before, waiting for hours at the first belay, we decided on a 4 am start. This route is popular. We got stuck behind a few parties of three and four. and it was a fate worse than a total rain out. Anyway, our plan worked and we were the first people on the tower the next morning. Cooler temps on the approach and watching the sunrise more than make up for the horrible feeling of waking up way too early. I am not a "morning person".
Beginning up the first pitch I was welcomed by a nice hand crack in solid sandstone. Ahhhhh, climbing is wonderful! These thoughts were short lived. After about twenty or so feet this crack opens up and swallows me whole and I am welcomed to the nightmarish world of squeeze chimneys for the first time.
Lukasz and I come from the East Coast and we mostly climb in the Gunks and ADKs. We are used to face climbs, pulling roofs, hand and finger cracks.....actual holds! The squeeze chimneys on this route are dead vertical, devoid of holds and covered in calcite. To my eyes, the calcite deposits resemble candle wax melted over the underlying sandstone. Calcite has very slippery texture, something like soap. It is creamy white in appearance. While very interesting and eerily beautiful it makes the climbing more difficult, more thought provoking and much more of a pain in the ass.
There was prolonged chimney work on three out of four pitches. Upward progress was slow. I found myself with my hands and knees on one wall and the bottoms of my feet and back on the other. Slowly, working my way up. This required tons of body tension, grunting, groaning and of course cursing. A very physical, blue collar style of climbing. By the last pitch I was having a full on conversation with the chimney I was in. The contents of which I will leave to the reader's imagination. This experience resembled torture more so than climbing. At times it took all the effort I could summon just to move an inch. I found it helpful at times to spin my body ninety degrees and just wedge my shoulders between the two walls so I could rest. I felt like a giant turd clogging the toilet. The core workout was so intense that I had extremely painful cramps, similar to those I've experienced in my quads after long hikes, in my abdominals when we got back to camp. Dehydration didn't help with that. More on that later.
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So Lukasz led the last pitch and got us to the top. I was so haggard and dehydrated I thought I saw one of those big water dispensers they have at the doctor's office sitting on the summit. I wandered back and forth across the small summit swearing to Lukasz that it was there somewhere. Eventually, I accepted the fact that I had imagined it. Water is important on this route. We brought a liter each on our harnesses and left three liters each in packs at the bottom. With all the chimneys it made sense to be without packs. Classic case of: you're damned if you do and thirsty if you don't.
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The view of the La Sal Mountains and the surrounding Castle Valley speaks for itself. We took time to pay homage to our #5 Camalot, placed on every pitch.
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Now let us journey back to my original line of questioning. Is the Kor-Ingalls a classic climb? I don't know if I am any closer to answering that question now, than I was before climbing the route. I kind of feel like the term classic climb is thrown around so much within the climbing vernacular that its exact meaning is lost. The tower itself is unique. The setting is awe inspiring. The line is natural and draws the eye from bottom to top. The route is historically significant. There is serious exposure and excitement in a couple spots. But I am still left with the feeling that the majority of the climb is not fun. For me the fun came when the climb was finally over. I will never, ever climb this route again! The Kor-Ingalls is memorable. A classic suffer fest. And when we suffer together we won't soon forget.
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| The Line |
So what attracted us to this climb? For me, it simply looked cool. Castleton Tower is 400' tall mass of geometric sandstone. The tower sits high on top of a 1000' dirt cone. It is beautiful, odd, intimidating and amazing at the same time. I felt like once I saw it, I had to climb it as a rite of passage. Another attraction is the rich history of Castleton Tower. The Kor-Ingalls route was first climbed in 1961 by Layton Kor and Huntley Ingalls. Kor, especially, is regarded as a pioneer in American climbing, known for his first ascents, drive and impressive physical presence. In climbing, as in life, I think it is important to follow in the footsteps of those who came before us as a sign of respect, admiration and to learn. Their route generally follows a left facing corner system, a striking visual line from ground to summit. An interesting obscure fact is that in 1964 Chevy dropped a car and a model atop the tower via helicopter and filmed a commercial.
Bizarre Chevy Commercial
All this attraction is interesting, inspiring and a wonderful to experience but there is also the experience of actually climbing the route. Things are quite different when thought becomes action. The guidebook, as is the case with many longer routes, very generally described Kor-Ingalls as a crack in corner system, with some chimney and OW sections. If you don't want to know what this route is really like (or at least my perspective of what it is really like) by all means stop reading! Go find out for yourself some day. If you are interested in my experience and thoughts keep right on going.
After nearly going insane the day before, waiting for hours at the first belay, we decided on a 4 am start. This route is popular. We got stuck behind a few parties of three and four. and it was a fate worse than a total rain out. Anyway, our plan worked and we were the first people on the tower the next morning. Cooler temps on the approach and watching the sunrise more than make up for the horrible feeling of waking up way too early. I am not a "morning person".
Beginning up the first pitch I was welcomed by a nice hand crack in solid sandstone. Ahhhhh, climbing is wonderful! These thoughts were short lived. After about twenty or so feet this crack opens up and swallows me whole and I am welcomed to the nightmarish world of squeeze chimneys for the first time.
Lukasz and I come from the East Coast and we mostly climb in the Gunks and ADKs. We are used to face climbs, pulling roofs, hand and finger cracks.....actual holds! The squeeze chimneys on this route are dead vertical, devoid of holds and covered in calcite. To my eyes, the calcite deposits resemble candle wax melted over the underlying sandstone. Calcite has very slippery texture, something like soap. It is creamy white in appearance. While very interesting and eerily beautiful it makes the climbing more difficult, more thought provoking and much more of a pain in the ass.
calcite
There was prolonged chimney work on three out of four pitches. Upward progress was slow. I found myself with my hands and knees on one wall and the bottoms of my feet and back on the other. Slowly, working my way up. This required tons of body tension, grunting, groaning and of course cursing. A very physical, blue collar style of climbing. By the last pitch I was having a full on conversation with the chimney I was in. The contents of which I will leave to the reader's imagination. This experience resembled torture more so than climbing. At times it took all the effort I could summon just to move an inch. I found it helpful at times to spin my body ninety degrees and just wedge my shoulders between the two walls so I could rest. I felt like a giant turd clogging the toilet. The core workout was so intense that I had extremely painful cramps, similar to those I've experienced in my quads after long hikes, in my abdominals when we got back to camp. Dehydration didn't help with that. More on that later.
Summit Cache
Every one of the four pitches was a challenge. The third pitch is probably the mental and physical crux of the route. I backed off and down climbed ten feet on my first attempt when a basketball sized chock stone I grabbed started to move around. Lukasz and I stood at the belay and very seriously talked about bailing right then and there, halfway up the route. We were both disgusted with the climb and I know I was legitimately shook. But upon further inspection the gear was good, so I decided to give it another go. This time the pitch went. It took a while to lead due to the fact I literally got stuck in the squeeze chimney above the crux moves for probably half an hour. Once I escaped I proceeded to sew the rest of the pitch up with small gear. When I look back now this pitch is simultaneously one of the scariest and most rewarding sections of climbing I have experienced. I had just over one year total climbing history when I led this pitch. I feel like I got away with something I should not have. Do we gain experience in order to push our limits on hard climbs or do we push our limits on hard climbs to gain experience? Riddle me this.
I wonder why climbers love Utah?
So Lukasz led the last pitch and got us to the top. I was so haggard and dehydrated I thought I saw one of those big water dispensers they have at the doctor's office sitting on the summit. I wandered back and forth across the small summit swearing to Lukasz that it was there somewhere. Eventually, I accepted the fact that I had imagined it. Water is important on this route. We brought a liter each on our harnesses and left three liters each in packs at the bottom. With all the chimneys it made sense to be without packs. Classic case of: you're damned if you do and thirsty if you don't.
The view of the La Sal Mountains and the surrounding Castle Valley speaks for itself. We took time to pay homage to our #5 Camalot, placed on every pitch.
Now let us journey back to my original line of questioning. Is the Kor-Ingalls a classic climb? I don't know if I am any closer to answering that question now, than I was before climbing the route. I kind of feel like the term classic climb is thrown around so much within the climbing vernacular that its exact meaning is lost. The tower itself is unique. The setting is awe inspiring. The line is natural and draws the eye from bottom to top. The route is historically significant. There is serious exposure and excitement in a couple spots. But I am still left with the feeling that the majority of the climb is not fun. For me the fun came when the climb was finally over. I will never, ever climb this route again! The Kor-Ingalls is memorable. A classic suffer fest. And when we suffer together we won't soon forget.
