Ice Age in the Gorge: Climbers Recount Winter Glory

Topher Dabrowski on the first ascent of Jet Stream, WI4 50m. Photo: Sam Wilson.

Intro by Kevin Machtelinckx

It’s said that the last ice age ended some 12,000 years ago. Since then, the masochistic beast known as the ice climber has had to content him or herself with traveling to far off places to find good quality water ice to sink their tools into. Every once in a while, however, the climbing gods grace our local spots with a frigid breath, freezing gushing waterfalls into suspended sculptures of solid, transparent goodness. The week of January 12th, 2017 saw one of these events unfold in our local Columbia River Gorge. While many of us sought refuge from the sub-freezing temperatures, others went for all-out glory. Whether it was first ascents by experienced climbers or first attempts by novices getting their feet wet (or frozen), the week-long ice-fest provided a rare opportunity to get on ice in one of the most scenic areas of the Pacific Northwest. Topher Dabrowski, Brad Farra and Jonathan Barrett give us a glimpse into what the experience was like.

Jet Stream on Cape Horn
by Topher Dabrowski
The 2016–2017 Columbia River Gorge ice climbing season is basically a wrap at this point since, after February, it is quite rare to see temperatures consistently low enough for any ice to form near Portland. However, this season was very conducive to ice formation in the Gorge and surrounding areas, as there were three distinct cold snaps with just very moderate warming in between. This season, I concentrated my efforts on Cape Horn, since it offers a good variety of route options and a high density of ice climbs in a relatively compact area. I could easily make trips to the Cape as I work and live in fairly close proximity and, fortunately, Highway 14 was open for most of the bad weather spells. This was a real luxury when compared to making the 12+ hour drive to Hyalite Canyon in Bozeman, one of my usual ice climbing venues.

Since I have lived in the region, I have made it a point to watch Cape Horn's ice formations during the Gorge ice season. This year, by far, offered more routes in thicker conditions than previous years. Many lines formed which, in previous years, had little to no ice. It was impressive how quickly the ice formed at Cape Horn and, over a period of three to four days, I watched a route turn from a major mixed line into an almost complete ice route. It’s a shame that particular line didn't have a few more climbable days, otherwise it would have surely seen an ascent. For now it goes unnamed and unclimbed (to the best of my knowledge).

My first day out to the Cape, I hit Salmon Run on the upper tier with Tim Holscher. We extended that route another pitch and a half past the typical finish to continue up a thin, frozen stream and then ended with a short steep step. The next trip was with Jeff Waskowiak, where I lead Junk Yard, a moderate WI3 route on the middle tier, which I believe is a first ascent. Junk Yard gets its name from an old tire, car seat and driver’s-side door found on the top out. A subsequent trip with a group of five provided some exploration of the lower tier, which sits adjacent to the river. On this outing, Peter Way led the first ascent of Wind Walker, which lays just above the railroad tracks. Although we found many of the other routes in good condition, the wind was too ferocious to allow us to get close, lapping the river’s waves against the walls.

Jeff and I also ascended an unrecorded line just left of Nancy’s Run. We called it Sid’s Slot in keeping with the Sid & Nancy theme. The final day out at Cape Horn was on a blue bird, albeit windy, day. A different group came out this time, and just by chance, one of the members was a photographer. I had my eye on one particular line that was teasing its way into shape and, after we made the approach up the icy gully, I decided it looked good for a go. Luckily, we were somewhat protected from the winds blowing into our little alcove. Although the ice provided for great 'sticks' with the ice tools, the protection was tricky and fickle. As I neared the top, gale force winds roared overhead. I paused to look back over my shoulder taking in the grandeur of the Columbia River Gorge and the splendor of my position. In that moment, Jet Stream became the route’s name.

Ainsworth Left
by Jonathan Barrett

Peter and Topher battling gale force winds along the shores
of the Columbia River. Photo: Ye Zhuang.

If there is one iconic ice line in the Gorge, it is Ainsworth Left. It seemed certain that our cold snap of historic proportions would put the route into rare condition. Teams often report that the final pitch is very wet, and I was hoping that we would be able to climb every pitch, but I was disappointed. Saturday, January 7th was cold indeed, but the real problem was the wind. Driving east in the predawn darkness with my partner, Chris Hulette, I found it difficult to keep my car between the lines.

The route’s several tiers of ice drop down a deep cleft, each plane turned slightly askew either right or left of the previous one. The effect is dramatic but also heartening. Pitches could be clearly defined. While we eyed the line from the base, gusts whipped the cliff face and tossed all manner of debris down on us: ground up ice, puffs of light snow, ragged pine branches. The wind, violent as it was at the base, seemed positively vicious up high.

For as long as I have been ice climbing, close to twenty years now, I have never lost my respect for the danger inherent in the medium. Looking up at the first pitch, I must admit I was nervous. It was not a gimme. Left and right were overhanging curtains and chandeliered ice. There was a weird, supernatural tilt to the forms, like something out of a H.P. Lovecraft story. Little was plumb. The center was the obvious line, so I headed up tapping gently into the curtain, trying to feel the pulse of the ice beneath the steel of pick and crampon. At one point, the curtain that I was on fractured at eye level, and I called down to my belay, “I have to admit... I’m scared right now!” But he encouraged me to stay focused.

We sent that pitch and the following one as well, a mellow ramp to the base of a face of frozen blobs. While on lead, I had been regularly pelted by falling debris. Some was small, but much of it was too large to not take seriously. My partner was struck too; when he arrived at the second belay, his helmet had taken a blow from a falling object that had punched through the skin into the foam core. It was obvious, that we were pressing our luck. With a v-thread and double ropes, we reached the ground and scurried for cover. It was not to be that day. We were defeated not by the route but by the Gorge’s violent winds. It was small consolation to later hear from other parties that the top pitch was too wet to climb.

Nancy's Run

by Brad Farra

The two weeks of the January ice event saw us get out on three different days. The idea wasn’t necessarily to bag any first ascents, but rather just get out and get some climbing in. We hit Cape Horn in some nasty winds on one day, then climbed just east and west of Multnomah Falls during the other two. 

Cape Horn was extremely windy when we got to the lower level. We wanted to get on some of the WI5 that we found down there but could barely walk, let alone lead steep ice. The trek to the base of those routes was really beautiful in any case, with all the ice on the beach. In the end, we climbed a really fun, long route called Nancy’s Run, rated at WI4.

Brad on Thick Enough to Screw run.

When we explored around the Multnomah Falls area, we found some nice formations in an adjacent bowl, just to the west. Multnomah Falls itself, as well as Horsetail Falls, to have too high of a flow to ice-over enough for climbing, though we did get on a route called Thick Enough to Screw just east of Multnomah Falls. 

The conditions during all three days were indeed the fattest I have ever seen them in the Gorge. With that said, they weren’t anywhere near what you’d find in places like Cody, Wyoming, Hyalite Canyon in Montana or the Canadian Rockies. The top-outs in the Gorge were always a mystery and many of the routes were runout on frozen mud or moss. It’s still a rare experience to have this kind of climbing only an hour’s drive from Portland. The Gorge is such a unique environment for climbing. There aren’t a lot of ice climbs out there where your approach includes romping through ferns and dense forest.