Approaching the 'hidden gulley'
Climbers on Concord Tower, across the gully
We got to the Blue Lake trailhead around noon, emptied our packs of all the overnight gear, and headed up the trail. Neither of us having done any rock climbing up here, we decided to aim for the "ever-popular' Beckey ROute on Liberty Bell. Probably the most frequently mentioned route up here, it was within our grade limits, and we had beta for it (I'd brought along the Red Beckey because it had the Triumph information in it.) Then, tomorrow we'd climb Cutthroat Peak.
The approach involves a mile and a half hike up the Blue Lake trail, then turning off to the left, up the hill. Of course, we turned too soon and did some unnecessary bushwhacking, but it was in open scree and so not too difficult, and eventually we found the trail which led up, up, up a scree-and-dirt-choked gully, reminiscent of Cascadia Couloir, which separates Liberty Bell and Concord.
Climbers on Concord Tower, across the gully
But shorter and much more populated. There were three or four different parties climbing on both sides of the gully -- Concord Tower is to the right, and Liberty Bell to the left. Despite our beta, we had to ask someone for where the route started. Fortunately, there was no one on it, so we headed over to the ledge, and Alex led the first pitch, a good class 4 warmup. I followed, with my big overnight pack, and led the second pitch, which starts up a chimney with some awkward overhanging chockstones at the top.
I dove right in without thinking it through, in my best 'I'll just figure it out' manner. But I just couldn't do it --- I got stuck under the chockstone, and kept banging my head against it, and had to lean back, and down and out, and by the time I figured out what I needed to be doing my hands were so weak I couldn't have climbed a ladder, so came back down and stared at it thinking, 'this is no 5.4 climb!' (Of course, it's not, according to Alan Kearny, it's 5.7.) But, back up again, this time avoiding getting trapped under the chockstone, and flopped and thrashed and somehow got up there. I have no idea how I made it up, but I'm glad there wasn't anyone else watching.
The third pitch is much more fun, it involes a finger traverse and some balance climbing, which I can do. Alex led it, and while I belayed him, the leader of party behind us came up in well under five minutes after Alex exited the pitch. I bet I thrashed away on it for 20 minutes!
The fourth pitch is more class 4 scrambling, including a fun 50-degree slab about ten feet high, and we were at the summit without much trouble.
Frankly, I don't see the appeal. I mean, it wasn't unpleasant, but the idea that you'd drive three hours from Seattle and hike a couple of hours from the car to climb four pitches of moderately interesting rock, followed by the slog out and long drive home... I just don't get sport climbing, I guess.
The descent was a bit more interesting. Because this is such a heavily used route, the rappel anchors are not located on the route; they are tucked off to climber's right, and out of sight, below the top of the second pitch. We were getting pretty frustrated, looking at the 'belay anchor' illustrated on the topo but totally not finding it. Then the party who'd come up after us came down (we spent half an hour on the summit, they probably weren't up there five minutes) and they'd found out from another descending party where the rap anchor was, so we went down there together, and rigged a double-rope rappel. The guy, Chris, tied it, a double fisherman knot backed up on the both ends, absolutely a textbook illustration of a prudent knot, and we went down, one after the other.
I did learn a very useful trick from Chris in the process of doing this rap -- when you're tossing your rappel rope, don't coil it and toss the whole thing down in a big wad, make it into two coils. Throw the first, and it'll drag the second one down, neatly and avoiding tangles and get caught by the wind much less.
This was a weekend of rappel frustrations. After the difficulty of finding the rap anchors, Chris pulled the rope down... and his stuck, somehow, partway down. We yanked and jerked and flipped and pulled, but couldn't get it down. So he had so get his shoes back on and climb up there, with me belaying him on our rope, and retrieve it.
The result of all this was that we didn't get back to the car until dark. Hungry and dirty, and worried about water, we headed up to the lookout where we used the bathroom, and then parked at the picnic area and cooked dinner, with abundant water, and then spent the night -- I lay my sleeping bag out on a picnic table, Alex slept in the back of his truck.
One positive aspect of the day was that we had no problems with bugs. I thought maybe they'd been frozen out, but then realized that it was really dry up there, and that was probably why. For whatever reason, though, I'll take it.