My climbing career began in Montana at the tender age of 19 as an impressionable young Minnesotan who had always desperately yearned to climb but had no outlet. I like to think I had somewhat of an old school Montana ethic instilled in me. Sure I climbed in the gym when I started out, but at the same time I was climbing outside every weekend. I began with sport climbing but it was only a few months later I bought 10 cams and a gently used 50m rope and did my first trad lead, which was also my first mulipitch climb and coincidentally my first R rated climb (does it get much more Montana than that these days?).
More than anywhere else, Blodgett Canyon is where I first cut my teeth; it's a place I hold dear.
If you don't know about Blodgett, it's the crown jewel of
rock climbing in the Bitterroot (and arguably all of Montana), containing several large walls out to prove that not all Montana climbing is horrible choss.
I only spent 4 semesters in Missoula, but during that time I got to know this spectacular place and climbed many of the walls. I became well acquainted with otherwise lovely spring days where I would pull 50+ ticks off myself. As a freshman I contracted Colorado Tick Fever from one of the unwanted passengers I picked up in Blodgett, which eventually hospitalized me with a fever that reached 106° before breaking.
I returned briefly in spring '12, ticking off a few formations and routes I hadn't previously done.
Flash forward to early 2014, while working on my Master's degree and now living in Flagstaff, AZ, I found out I was going to be able to present some of my research at a conference in Missoula that May. I quickly plotted a return to Blodgett to coincide with the trip.
At the time, link ups seemed to be in vogue in the climbing world (Alex Honnold and Tommy Caldwell had just done the Fitz Roy Traverse) so I figured I might as well jump on the bandwagon. I first pitched the idea of a big multi-wall day to my good amigo Elliott.
I had 6 days in Missoula. I arrived on Saturday and met Mack that night. We did a quick mission on Monday to climb a route neither of us had done, stash some food and drink at Shoshone, and run a refresher lap on the Drip Original Route because neither of us had been on it in a long time.
I presented my research at the conference Tuesday night and then we immediately jetted back to Blodgett to catch a few hours of sleep.
With an early start and quick charge to the Prow formation, we started up the classic Timebinder around 5 am. Elliott even came with us on the hike for part of the day to take some pictures (http://elliott-natz.format.com/blodgett);.
We had each climbed the route at least 3 times before and it went smoothly, swinging leads and sending each pitch first go, a theme that continued all day.
I even redpointed (finally!) the headwall fingercrack on the last pitch!
Next we moved on to the Original Route on Drip Buttress, which went even more smoothly as it had been less than 48 hours since we had last climbed it.
We then bushwhacked down and crossed over the swollen creek just after 10:30 having made pretty good time thus far.
We hiked up canyon for a mile or so until we could cross back over and ascend to our stash at the base of Shoshone Buttress. Already it was readily apparent we didn't bring enough calories or liquids. We munched on nuts and some white trash power bars (aka Snickers), chugged two Powerades, and set off for the base of the wonderful route, My Mom's Muscle Shirt.
This route is an utter gem, traveling for 8 long pitches up the middle of the largest wall in the canyon, Flathead Buttress. It was first freed by Missoula's most famous native son, a 21 year old Alex Lowe.
Unfortunately I left my phone (/camera) at the base of Shoshone.
High on this route we were getting cooked by the sun and I was introduced to the lovely experience of bonking. I managed to persevere through my lead of the 2nd crux pitch. My arms cramped from the bicep intensive overhanging jams, making 5.10+ feel significantly harder, all the time knowing that if I could just finish the pitch Mack would be able to take us to the top and I'd have time to recover a little bit while rappelling and walking downhill back to Shoshone. I had been to the top of Flathead Buttress twice before, each time rapping off the east side, but Mack knew the convoluted beta on how to rap the south face using fixed anchors from other routes, setting us down right back at our approach shoes.
Back at our stash we rested for a few minutes, ate the last of our food, and chugged a Red Bull before setting off on the moderate South Face of Shoshone. 2 days earlier we had soloed the starting pitches to the lunch ledge, but this round we roped up.
We both knew the route well and I had originally thought we might be able to simulclimb the whole thing in as little 20 minutes, however in our severely dehydrated state it took almost an hour. On the upper wall Mack got to experience bonking for himself and his pace slowed to a crawl. I was actually feeling decent at this point and in our now reversed roles I yelled encouragement to Mack. Without getting too flowery, later we remarked that this was a pretty cool experience that we both had our low points at different times but were able to feed off each others psyche and keep moving.
We scrambled back down to lunch ledge and instead of rapping back to the true bottom of Shoshone, we traversed to the SW base of Nez Perce Buttress. Thankfully the stream between the formations was full of snow runoff and we were able to gorge ourselves on water, but still no food. The traverse worked excellently and deposited us atop the crappy first pitch of the Southwest Buttress route. Mack realized he had forgotten his helmet at the stream and went back to go get it. Meanwhile I snapped this picture looking back at Flathead and Shoshone in profile and decided to call Elliott.
At this point it was 6:30 and Elliott was back at the trailhead. We were at a minimum 4 hours from getting back to the cars; but for better or worse, I asked him to drive into Hamilton and buy us the biggest burritos possible before Taco del Sol closed so we would have something to look forward to. Mack got back and we made respectable time on the 5 pitches above us.
We topped out at dusk. Without discussing it we both knew a 6th route, the classic Free Lament on Blackfoot Dome, wasn't going to happen, despite the fact that the Nez Perce walk off takes us right past the base. We were totally cooked, lusting for the meaty tortilla goodness at camp, and not at all looking forward to climbing a slabbly R rated dome route by headlamp. If we would have had more food and water (and caffeine) maybe we could have dug deeper and done a few more pitches but I guess that will have to wait for someone else to come along.
We stumbled back to the car 19 hours after we had left it and showed no mercy as we ingurgitated the divine burritos.
All in all we did around 3400' of roped climbing, what the guidebook calls 34 pitches, although we linked and simuled as much as possible, and way too much hiking (as many of my friends know I'm not all that into cardio). We took a single rack to #3 along with 4 or 5 nuts, also we brought a #4 on Flathead. I think I only pulled 20 or so ticks off, which is really quite good for such a long day out in the spring! Much thanks to Elliott for the support and photos, Michelle for letting me use your very stylish helmet, and to Mack for being an awesome, knowledgeable, and psyched partner.
Postscript:
After a week of only seeing white people in Montana ;) I needed some culture. 48 hours after the link up I flew back to AZ to meet up with some friends and immediately drive to Hermosillo, Mexico to crash this beautiful young lady's quinceañera.
It would be a total toss up to decide if the amazing Sonoran Carne Asada tacos with all the sides and toppings or the post link-up burritos tasted better *at the time of consumption*. Needless to say, although the Montana burritos are pretty good, it's not even close to a competition under normal circumstances.