Berg/Slawinski Second ascent
On December 15th, 2022, Ripley Boulianne, Nathanial Walkom, and I met on the Smith-Dorrian Trail under a clear dark sky. It was 6 am and we were getting ready to ski-approach the East face of the Fist (2630m), to attempt Raphael Slawinski and Alik Berg’s 300m mixed route, The Manhole M5, established In October of 2017.
We were under the impression that this route had been repeated many times before. It was only after that fact that we came to learn of our possibly having achieved the 2nd complete ascent- and in full winter conditions (even though the solstice was still a week away). This report was written to expand on the current information for subsequent parties attempting the route and original decent- with added beta as to its condition in winter.
Approach. After a couple of hours of skinning towards Tryst Lake, we reached the bottom of a scree bowl covered in snow. There, we left our skis and continued to the base of the climb which took an additional hour of waist-deep post-holing in variable snow, including facets. By 9 am we were racking up (single rack, double of 1 & 2, a few nuts and pitons). Our strategy to climb this as a party of 3 was to divide the leads into blocks (3-2-2) and use double ropes.
P1. M5? 30m. After fiddling with a broken boot that wouldn’t close at all, I resigned myself to the situation and headed upwards to begin my lead block. The first pitch was thin, technical, and committing. The lower portion had me run out on thin edges until I got to the first bolt that begins at an overhanging bulge forcing big moves with cut feet. Perhaps the moves would have been more tamed if I didn’t need to deal with snow mushroom excavation in order to continue upwards progress. Dealing with these was energy-consuming and a hard shell might have been wise. After a long lead, I arrived at the bolted anchors and began belaying. Ripley and Nat also found this pitch difficult and we agree that it was the crux of the route.
P2. M4, 40m. Continuing into the 2nd pitch I quickly cleared the overhanging crack (good fun, easier than it looks) and began weaving myself around, over, and through snow mushrooms which were very insecure but relatively easy from a technical standpoint. Still, I was glad to have some Andean snow climbing under my belt to get a feel for stability. I continued to plow through the snow intersected with rock bands until I got to the base of the chimney. I didn’t find the anchor, so I built a 2 piton and a #3 cam belay and brought my friends up.
P3. M5, 40m. My final lead began smoothly, continuing through crack systems of various sizes. Things slowed down when the obvious line was claimed by compact snow and required some creative and spicy detouring. Things stayed much the same for many body lengths until a memorable snow mushroom which significantly slowed me down and eventually collapsed when I was above it. The final meters were thin and hard to protect. I took a lead fall here when committing to a blind move. Luckily, my leashed tools skated down into a good placement and held me before the rope ever got taught. I got my feet back to the rock and tried again- and soon was at the anchor, pulling up the ropes in a small alcove at the base of the off-width.
P4. M5, 25m. Make a few unprotected moves off the belay and into the obvious squeeze in front of you. Good gear can be found at the back without too much hassle. With my rack and pack, I had to use off-width techniques to get through the tightest part. My followers and I also had to hitch our packs with an extended draw. Once past the off-width, you’ll climb up to another, easier, chimney. On our ascent, it was completely choked with hard-packed and overhanging snow mushrooms, which I had to chop out to progress, and got completely soaked in the process. You’ll find a 2-pin anchor (courtesy of Ian Welsted) at the top of the chimney that you can back up with more thin gear.
P5. M4/5.8, 55m. Follow the obvious gash straight up, you’ll find more of the same: hard-packed snow and overhanging mushrooms. The gear is generally good, and the climbing is easier. Go through 2 steep sections at M4 using chimneying techniques until you reach a steep snow arete. I had to crawl up deep unconsolidated snow to a very comfortable and protected belay anchor. Save a #1 or #2 for this anchor.
P6. M4, 55m. I started my block rather wet and more than a little tired but motivated to do my bit for the team as I had been drafting off John and Ripley for the last 5 pitches. Climb a fun chimney capped with a snow mushroom that took ages to cut down. My legs were getting tired from stemming and my arms were sore from chopping. At one point, I cut a hole in the mushroom and mantled through to the cave made by the chimney, and previously sealed by the snow. Here, I found a fixed nut in the cave (which someone must have bailed off), clipped it, and continued to apply chimney techniques, eventually pulling onto a steep snow slope that quickly transitioned into low-angle snowed-up rock. I built a 2 pin and 2 nut anchor and belayed the others up.
P7. M4+/5.8, 55m. The next pitch ascends a snow slope to some really fun corner climbing before weaving your way through some chockstones and burrowing upwards through steep snow and a small cornice to arrive at the top of the gully rather wet, and somewhat later than expected, but very excited. Ripley then John joined me at the anchor. It was around 3 am when we all stood at the top of the route.
Descent. FYI, this part is certainly the most pertinent part of this report.
After squeezing through the cornice and the usual hum bug of congratulations, mixed with self-deprecating laughter concerning our ascent time, we focused on the task at hand: a safe decent back to our skis. We knew only that we had to descend a gully and contour right (to the north). But amid the dark night and unknown terrain below that seemed to cliff out, and the concern for avalanches, things weren’t so simple. Ripley and I took a look down the first gully while Nat took care of breaking down the final anchor. But I didn’t like where it seemed to spit us out (South-West), nor the amount of snow on the slopes, or the abrupt angles suggesting cliffs.
We quickly back-tracked up the anchor and decided to solo up a notch (a few bodyweights of ∼60 ° unconsolidated snow) which brought us to a 2nd gully. This time Nat and Ripley went down the narrowing gully, through a choke, and down another gully. We stopped at a snow arete, above some loaded slopes. Here we had a long discussion on hazards and route-finding. The obvious fall line still would spit us South-West toward Smuts (a long post-hole from our skis) and as a skier, I knew those to be sketchy slopes to be on. We talked about abseiling, but this certainly isn’t a route to be abseiling. Without a doubt, you would get your ropes stuck- a lot.
Eventually, I summoned up some mountain savviness and began a foray, staying high, avoiding loaded slopes and cliff bands, while aiming rightwards to the north. This worked, and with good teamwork, it eventually brought us the ridge/col above Tryst Lake. En route, we maneuvered across slabs, small rock bands, and snow. From the col, we were able to cross down the slope itself since, luckily, it wasn’t loaded at all. Instead, the wind has scoured it so fully that it was only frosted scree- stable and secure.
The short description from the first ascensionists: ‘’contour right until the base of the route’’ is certainly right- but is also understated. There were continuous micro-decisions that required some real experience in navigating that sort of terrain. Moreover, if the final slope would have been loaded, the way back would have been long indeed.
Conclusion.
The whole adventure certainly took us longer than we had expected, but we are also glad that we kept pushing and completed the loop. It was a 25h push car-to-car. The route was in full winter conditions yet the wheatear was clement: clear, cold, and with no wind. The climbing itself was engaging and high quality. Save for a few sections, the gear is good and the rock quality was above average for Rockies standard. We are pleased with our rack and would not have changed anything. The one thing is, wear your Gore-Tex!