“The House of Hyalite” from Alpinist

“The House of Hyalite” from Alpinist

crag profile Hyalite I Joe JosepHson THE HOUSE OF HYALITE Christmas Eve, 1994: A white sliver of light glowed above a shaggy, dark forest. Only few miles across the valley, the icefall looked impossibly distant, unattainable. But even from here, I could see the stark, horizontal fracture line that extended to the right of the main pillar. A few weeks before, Alex Lowe was attempting a free-hanging dagger when the ice broke off, nearly crushing two climbers below. After a thirty-five-foot fall, he alighted on his feet, uninjured except for a gash where the adze of his axe had struck his forehead. The accident was already a legend. It seemed part of another time and world. 42 43 I collapsed in the snow, wondering what I’d missed. I was back in on and drive in a Spectre.” He grinned, and the lines at the corners of his The Anticipation of Ice shorter North Wall hammer with a re-forged curved pick. Pat had a tra- Montana for a family holiday visit. Although I’d grown up nearby, I eyes deepened, accentuating the rugged, stitched-up wound. “It’s only ditional long axe. “After getting our legs under us, so to speak,” he says, hadn’t started ice climbing until I moved to Alberta. I was still fixated an hour approach,” he said. But an hour for Alex might be immeasur- Every climbing area has only one cardinal moment when some- “I recall running down the ice without using an axe.” Peter explains, on the north faces, thrust-faulted limestone and long, azure waterfalls ably longer for a mortal like me, so when he suggested we leave at 2:00 one first turns a corner and recognizes the potential. Of course, pioneers “Clare’s climb wasn’t steep, but it was water-ice hard. On Robson, the of the Canadian Rockies. This was my first day in Hyalite Canyon. I’d a.m. to be back by noon for “family stuff,” I said I had to go Christmas may push deeper into the periphery or bring an emerging vision or a [alpine] ice had more air in it.” imagined it as a woodland hollow on the edge of Bozeman, sparkling shopping. “Maybe you’re right,” Alex said. “I’ll go sledding with the new ability to previously known terrain. And in the process, they might Intrigued by the different medium, Pat continued to “fiddle around” with a handful of flows—a backyard excursion, nothing more. That kids.” His smile still quivered. I knew he was just being magnanimous, “find” new routes of consequence. Yet none of these experiences replaces on granite cliffs west of Bozeman, looking for more water ice. For a morning, I’d stopped by Alex’s house to ask what trade routes might be accepting my excuse for laziness. that inaugural instant when a climber’s mind, with a climber’s purpose, while, all he found were roadcut flows. Local climbers generally assumed good. Ever willing to assist visitors, he’d suggested that I try Mummy 3 That January, the ice dagger blossomed into a full pillar. Doug sees a place that’s entirely unclimbed. For Hyalite, as for many places, the closest “real” waterfall was several hours away in the Beartooth and 4, “a brilliant two-pitch mixed line.” Chabot and Jack Tackle finished the route and named it “Airborne this moment came by accident. Range. The entrance to Hyalite was only a few miles distant from Thus far, I’d spent most of the day lost amid dense woods. Every turn Ranger” after Alex’s fall. Over the years, the tale became one of the most In 1968, in the midst of Yosemite’s Golden Age, Pat Callis left Cali- campus, but the roads were roughshod even in summer. After the first revealed another tier of cobbled cliffs and ledges. Nothing matched the well-known Hyalite epics. But the picture that stays most in my mind is fornia to take an assistant professorship at Montana State University, the big storms of winter, the snow sealed off the canyon until May, hiding pictures in my head. Directly above, some phlegmy ice appeared on a that of Alex’s wide grin, inviting me, as he had so many others, into an backwaters of the climbing world. Here, its vast domains of ice. rotten-looking cliff, which I thought might be Mummy 4. If Mummy ongoing story. When I walked off his porch, I had no idea that I’d move Pat says, he found “miles of unclimbed 3 existed, it must be covered in snow, or else I was in the wrong place. to Bozeman to explore more passages of this quiet, frozen world. Or that crags” and “an instant bond with the A Semi-Secret World The bright sky deepened the shadows of the evergreens. Tinsel lines of after many winters, there’d still be icefalls that eluded me, and enigmas small climbing community.” In the late ice glittered down copper-colored rockbands. Each one seemed just out that I failed to solve. 1960s, Bozeman remained a deeply con- Situated along the northern rampart of reach. I was unprepared for struggle and mystery, and so I turned But perhaps what I felt on that initial, bumbling excursion were the servative town, its Main Street lined with of the Gallatin Range, Hyalite Canyon around. first stirrings of true bewilderment, in the archaic sense of the word: I cowboy bars and saddle shops. “You didn’t stands as both guardian and gateway of At sunset, I stood on the threshold of Alex’s house under a tattered was “led astray and lured into the wild.” And in that moment, I began a want to stand out,” the climber Doug a proposed wilderness area that extends prayer flag. He insisted the line by Cleopatra’s Needle would go, despite journey to understand why Hyalite is so much more than any one thing McCarty (then a long-haired teenager) over fifty miles into Yellowstone National the missing ice. “There is a big cobble up there I think we could stand you can say about it. recalls. “Once, some cowboys threw me Park. Here, 34 to 56 million years ago, up against a wall and pulled out a pocket- the Absaroka Volcanic Supergroup rou- knife to give me a haircut.” tinely coughed up enormous pyroclastic Nonetheless, a few rebellious youth clouds of hot ash and rock. Subsequent had formed the Wool Sox Club, mod- mudflows, known as lahars, cut into the eled after the Creagh Dhu, a Scottish more ancient stone, carrying sand, peb- mountaineering group famed for its strict bles and chunks of old lava. Vents allowed climbing ethics and social nonconformity. new bursts of silica-laden andesite to At age thirty, Pat had already made first thicken the layers, forming a convoluted ascents of major alpine routes like the architecture of tiered rockbands, narrow North Face of Mt. Robson in the Cana- shafts and knobby buttresses. Glaciers dian Rockies, and he quickly became a carved new valleys, etched with hidden mentor to the younger, exuberant Wool lakes and cascades. Sox. “The anticipation of ice climbing was A late nineteenth-century lumber in the air,” he recounts. Yvon Chouinard mill left behind a network of primitive had begun designing chrome-moly cram- roads and trails across lush stands of old- pons with sharp frontpoints and axes with growth timber. In 1951 the town finished curved picks. Although the first non-step- building a reservoir amid the wrinkled, cutting ascent of Pinnacle Gully on New palm-like hills that spread out ten miles Hampshire’s Mt. Washington was still two years away, Billings climb- above the lower canyon. Deeper in, fingered cirques reach southward to ers Chad Chadwick and Wally Hunter were using piolet traction on true the Gallatin crest. The largest drainage, Main Fork, rises like a pointed waterfalls in Montana’s Beartooth Range. index and culminates in Hyalite Peak (10,298'). The East Fork wraps In the autumn of 1969, “frustrated by the apparent dearth of steep like a thumb around an oval amphitheater, known as Flanders, where water ice” eighteen-year-old Clare Pogrebra invited Pat, along with MSU sweeping rock fins funnel winter spindrift down blue-ice pillars, ava- backcountry ski instructor Peter Lev, to check out a 100-foot, forty- lanche slopes and stark clumps of trees. five-degree ice sheet he’d created by running sprinklers down Butte’s Just as the unique power of the human hand is best expressed by Montana Tech football stadium. “We were on the spot,” Pat says, “the the gap between fingers and opposable thumbs, the mystery of Hyalite veteran alpinists, summoned to perform for the edification of the eager persists most within these spaces between the ridgelines—a maze-like young bucks.” Peter brought Austrian-forged dagger-like crampons, a geography of forest and cliff that is no longer quite true wilderness, but ninety-centimeter ice axe with extra teeth filed in its straight pick and a still intricately, profoundly wild. [Opening Spread] Tyler Jones on Omega (WI5, 30m, FA Unknown), Hyalite Canyon, Mon- Chabot-Tackle, 1995). During the first ascent, the pillar formed to the ground. Andrew tana. Several mixed variations exist (M4–M7), including a piton-protected one by Meg Burr l [This Page] Doug Chabot next to the broken Airborne Ranger. The day after the pil- Hall, who says “I have a tendency to see if I can do things without any preplaced/fixed lar shattered, causing Alex Lowe’s famous fall, Lowe returned with Chabot to retrieve gear.” Jason Thompson l [Facing Page] Kyle Dempster on Airborne Ranger (WI6, 85m, his gear.

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