Climbers put their pastime on ice in Colorado

OURAY, Colo. — Huge snowflakes had been falling from the slate gray sky since before daybreak. The falling snow muted all sound, except the calls of climbers warning of falling ice.

After a day and a half of training and practicing ice-climbing techniques, the climbing guide and I rappelled 140 feet down into the Box Canyon of the Uncompaghre Gorge in southwestern Colorado. At the bottom, I moved under a small overhang and watched as the guide rappelled down the belay rope I had just descended against a backdrop of blue-green ice flowing down the cliff face. The guide looked tiny as he descended, and the ice looked like stretched taffy, flanked by huge, jagged icicles.

My longtime climbing partner, Harry Woods, and I were in Colorado to climb ice cliffs. Our intended route, Pic o’ the Vic, is described as a steep climb up the first icy prow visible from the upper bridge in Ouray Ice Park.

Ouray, Colo., is a quaint old town and small high-mountain valley surrounded by stark, steep and beautiful stone and snow faces. The ice park’s staff has created a mile and a half of ice-covered cliff walls down the gorge that cuts through the park by spraying river water down the cliffs every night, all winter long.

Standing at the bottom of the Pic o’ the Vic, it was too steep to see the top of the gorge. Only the lower half of the rock and ice surfaces that soared above us was visible against the gray sky. The sense of being at the bottom of a well, combined with the snow and muted sounds, made the moment feel surreal.

Guide Mark Miller had warned us that there were only two ways out of the gorge at this particular place. We would have to climb the ice back to the top or wade waist-deep into the partially frozen Uncompahgre River. Harry and I, about to turn 69 and 65 respectively, are not inclined to wade in winter.

Our guide had tethered our belay rope to a tree at the top of the gorge, and Harry remained there to belay me as I climbed. Our guide intended to climb with each of us to "talk us up the route.” He would have no protection if the ice broke and he fell.

Stepping up to the ice, I tugged on the belay rope twice so Harry would know I was ready to climb. The guide directed me to step into a crease between the curving ice sheet on the right and a huge icicle on the left, and to use their vertical surfaces to stem my way up the first 30 feet. To scale the ice, I had crampons on my boots and two ice axes. The crampons, attached to the bottom of my boots, have a boot-shaped metal base with several 1½- to 2-inch spikes pointing down around the edge and two similar spikes pointing off the front. I stuck the ice ax in the crease, kicked one crampon into the wall and the other into the icicle, then started up.

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