Solva Buttress and Nick Drake

Nick Drake had a way with words and guitar. 

From The Morning.

A day once dawned

And it was beautiful

A day once dawned

From the ground

Then the night she fell

And the air was beautiful

The night she fell

All around

So look see the days

The endless colored ways

And go play the game

That you learned

From the morning 

Mount Stroller White as seen from base camp Friday morning. Summit of Mt McGinnis is a nubbin to the left of Stroller.

On August 4, 2017, we rolled out of Alex Burkhart’s four-person tent at 4AM and started getting out gear together to climb the Solva Buttress. Rumor has it the buttress got its name from Norwegian climbers in the fifties who named it the Sunshine Buttress in Norwegian. I always thought sunshine might be a Norwegian inside joke given how much it rains in Juneau but now I think not. When it’s sunny up there, it’s really sunny, many square miles of whitish wall facing south reflecting and absorbing light like a solar oven. After a summer of rain, it felt good to be in that "oven." 

The Solva Buttress (Fifth Tower) as seen on our approach to base camp from the helicopter. Photo Dylan Stuart (Stewie)

We woke above a marine layer about 4,000 feet thick,a bed of clouds with mountain tops poking their peaks and we were above the clouds. A day once dawned and it was beautiful. The previous night we were dropped off by helicopter on the glacier at the base of the south side of the Mendenhall Towers. The Solva is the Fifth Mendenhall Tower from the left as counted from the west. 

This was my third attempt at the Solva Buttress and my third post about it. The first two attempts I didn’t reach the top. It wasn’t failure but turning around before the summit was not the goal. My first two attempts are here (LINK 2015) and here (LINK 2016).  Everything went smoothly this time and there are summit photos if you read on.

Base camp before the climb. 

We got rolling by 5AM. There were two teams: Alex and Stewie and Kevin and me. I am probably the weakest in the group.  We stayed about a pitch apart with Stewie and Alex above us most of the time. We met up for a short lunch. The Solva Buttress has ten pitches, more or less. The starts and endings of pitches aren’t demarcated by fixed anchors or any means other than descriptions on summitpost LINK. That and some pitches have obvious useful ledges that are clearly good places to end a pitch and start the next.

Alex Burkhart front, Kevin Walsh, Stewie, Carl Reese (me)

It was starting to warm up by the top of pitch one, one of the trickier climbs of the day though it is well protected. There was a lot of rope drag on some of these pitches and the first one was bad.  None of the day’s climbing was that tough taken singly but it was a challenge for me taken all in one day. The Buttress is 1,600 feet or vertical rock with very little space for un-roped climbing, at least for climbers like our team. That is part of the beauty of the climb that it’s tall, consistently technical rock, and yet not overwhelmingly so. The exposure is huge in some places and the location is shockingly beautiful.

Pitch one and Kevin at the start of pitch one. 
I didn't get any photos of Kevin climbing as I was his belayer.

Pitches two and three went smoothly. I led two and Kevin led the first part of 3. I led the last part of 3 and continued leading about halfway up pitch four. Pitch four is about a 5.6, long and fun. The ratings are understated for sure. 5.6 feels real and 5.7 and 5.8 even more so.  I set an anchor at mid point of pitch four and Kevin took over on lead as he is faster than me and we were worried about having to rappel in the dark. As it turns out, we were right to be concerned because that is exactly what happened. It wasn’t a huge problem. 

This is the place! I don't know what was over 

there but it wasn't the Salt Lake Valley. 

I think it was near the top of pitch seven. 

Photo Kevin Walsh.

A leader takes the larger risk in an alpine climb. I figured I’d say that since not everyone reading this is a climber. The lead climber climbs first, with the belayer feeding him/her rope, and placing cams or nuts into cracks in the rock every 10-15 feet. This is ideal but sometimes an appropriate crack doesn't exist for a stretch of rock and this is called a run-out. You have to turn back or change direction if you come to a large run-out that you don't feel 100% confident climbing, sans fall.  If the leader falls, the gear catches the fall when the rope comes taut. If you are 25 feet above your last pro, your fall is 50 feet.The fall is called a whipper and people have survived whippers up to 80 feet because the rope stretches. Often whippers up to 20 feet have little to no injury but there are exceptions if you hit something on the way down. 

Kevin led most of the trip this time. The follower climbs second and cleans the protection as he/she climbs.  At the anchor there is an exchange of cams before the next pitch.  Our exchanges got quicker throughout the day but were clunky at first. The follower is belayed from above so falls are comparatively short, say 10 feet at most, though falls on traverse (moving laterally) can be longer because there is more slack in the rope and the follower can swing.  Large swings can be a problem. Whippers and swings are WAY better than ground falls, scrapes and bruises verses busting apart like a water balloon.

We were able to link the upper part of pitch four and five and make it back to what summitpost described. It wasn’t our intent to follow summitpost but it worked out that way. Pitch five is the one pitch I didn’t like that much as there was a short section with some wet rock and it was run-out. Last time I was there I didn’t think much of it but it was likely dry that day. There was very little wet rock this trip though. The top of pitch five had some snow and that helped with my water supply. We ate lunch at the Palacio del Cinco, the large ledge at the top of pitch five. Another climbing team slept up there that night.

Alex on pitch 4. 

Pitch six was an exercise in mindfulness. Breath slowly and focus.  There is a run-out section where you have to climb right, back left, do a belly slide down-climb, and then finish the climb.  The route felt like a 5.9 but was rated at 5.7.

I don’t believe any of the ratings.

Pitch seven is long and ends with a twenty-foot traverse that hangs over perhaps 1,200 feet of air. A whipper on lead would be thirty feet and a fall following would be a twenty-foot swing. There aren’t any cracks to place gear on the traverse for a while.

None of us fell on this trip. 

Part of Pitch Eight with the step out marked lower left. 

I got to the top of pitch seven thinking about turning around. I kept going partly because Kevin was confident leading and after looking at the traverse, rather than the 1,200 feet. I am not afraid of heights but I do get jitters when I am above major exposure. the jitters are actually counter productive and I knew the only way I was going slip on that traverse was to trip over my own head.I noted the step out into open air was simple climbing and falling was highly unlikely with minor consequences. The consequences were perceived because of the exposure though a fall would not have been fun.  I would have shit myself for sure. 

I also kept going because I am beginning to be known as the guy with multiple flailed attempts at the Solva Buttress and flailing this time might have meant three strikes. Climbing isn’t baseball, however.

Pitch eight is the crux and it starts with a few simple ledge and then there is a thirty foot sheer face with a single crack. I gotta thank that guide I paid for in Indian Creek a few years back for crack climbing lessons. I did just fine and I shouldn't make fun of people that hire guides. The next crux wasn’t physically tough but mentally stressing, much like the traverse at the top of seven.  

The walk to the summit of Solva Buttress

The traverse move is to step right off a small ledge at the top of the crack and step out for about 8 feet on some medium sized foot holds. It sounds easy enough, and it is easy enough except that the leader is twenty feet above the last cam and there is twelve hundred feet of air below your feet. Kevin did wonderful as leader. I don’t think I could have led that part. The crack crux I could have done because you can place as many cams are you want. I felt nervous and I was on a top rope. If I ever get up there again, I could lead it because I know what it’s like. It’s a couple steps to the right, a step up, and then you find another spot for a cam. If you fall you will drop about fifteen feet before the rope catches you.  You will have to prussic up the rope.  Once he got his first cam in the wall, Kevin started climbing with hoots, “This stuff is fucking dope!”

Dylan Miller on the skyline of Fourth Tower. 
I zoomed in as it's 1/4 mile away.

Indeed it was dope. Following the traverse, we climbed about fifty feet of magnificent rock with spectacular exposure, excellent protection and exchanged the rack. Throughout the day we got much faster at exchanging the rack and I think that is key to not getting stuck rappelling in the dark. Get up earlier than the sun, make quick exchanges, and don’t dilly dally. That and drink a ton of water because the sunshine saps it out of you.

As I was getting ready to start climbing pitch nine, Gabe Hayden climbed past me without a rope. A minute or so later, Dylan Miller past me too. Both of these guys are amazing climbers with incredible control. I stand in awe of free soloists.  I spoke for a minute to each of them and continued up. Pitch nine is easy stuff and so was pitch ten. Both could be considered class IV scrambles. If I go up there again I might just pack the rope away at the top of pitch eight and climb ropeless. The last approach before the summit is a casual walk along a wide ledge that abuts nothing but sky. The view is knockout and walking to the summit feels like my version of an honorary red carpet with honors bestowed by the Goddess Solva upon the whole climbing team. I am guessing the Solva Buttress was no big deal to Dylan and Gabe.

Looking north from summit.

Kevin and I and Stewie and Alex got to the summit about 5:30. We sat up there for twenty minutes and figured we needed to get moving. Dylan and Gabe climbed across the saddle between the Solva Buttress and the Fourth Tower and up the Fourth.  They rappelled the Fourth Tower starting about the same time we started our rap. They got down around 9PM and we got down at 1AM

Kevin and I on summit

Our first rap started a 6PM. Even though we had two ropes we opted for 30 meter raps; one sixty meter doubled. The potential for getting a rope stuck is huge on the Mendenhall Towers and it seemed faster to go that way. I think it worked too. One of us rappelled pitch ten, the next rapped to meet him with the second rope, one of them would rappel pitch nine while the third and fourth climber took turns rapping pitch ten. We leap frogged the whole way like that and only got the rope stuck once, on pitch nine. Stewie climbed back up. Thank you Stewie.

Stewie and Alex on the summit. 

Even though our raps went mostly smooth, it takes time. Darkness fell around 10:30 and we were still 500 feet above base camp. The northern lights came out. Fortunately, it was a full moon and we all had good head lamps so we trudged downward. It’s not possible to rappel a wall like this in the dark if you don’t have enough light to make out the major features in the distance. On a moonless night, we would have been benighted (waiting it out for sunrise.) It also helps that I had rapped this section twice before, once in the dark. Failure has benefits.  With the moon, we could easily see our target on the ice and route quite well. I placed a bright red tarp on the snow away from the wall so we could see it the whole time and aim for it as we descended. The headlamps helped us see details close up like our knots and such. Kevin had never seen the aurora before. Despite our fatigue, it was an inspiring few hours.

Meanwhile in a more civilized world about fourteen physical miles and four hundred philosophical miles away, a photographer named Ron Giles had his tripod setup to photograph the northern lights at the north Douglas Boat Ramp. I don’t know Ron but he posted a photo on Facebook showing headlamps on the Solva Buttress and somebody forwarded it to Stewie asking if this was our group. Indeed it was.

Me on pitch nine. 

We got back to base camp at 1AM and I gobbled some food, brushed my teeth, and collapsed in the tent. We woke up around 7:30 because the wind howled like a rabid wolf all night and finally we had to get up and secure the tent so it didn’t fly back to Juneau without us. We flew home at 11AM.  Before the trip, we thought we might climb some single pitches in the morning before the heli showed up but our feet were sore so we sat in the sunshine for a few hours eating and drinking coffee. There was even some whisky in the morning which we drank like rock stars.

Ron Giles photo of lights on the Mendenhall Towers. 

There is something surreal and magical about the Mendenhall Towers and indeed the whole Juneau Icefield. It’s an area stuck in the Pleistocene. The towers themselves are a nunataq, a large chunk of solid granite jutting out of one of the largest glacial systems in North America. But it isn’t just the geologic history that draws me to the place. 

Sunset in the lower part of our rap.

Maybe the lure is that humans don’t belong up there for long.  The icefield invites me in and allows me to stay until the weather or some other harsh reality brings me home. Though the rock is spectacular and the climbing challenges my every nerve, it’s the beauty and magic that draws me back, not the rock.

So look see the days

The endless colored ways

And go play the game

That you learned

From the morning

Youtube LINK, From the Morning by Nick Drake.

Selfie taken at the top of pitch seven. I will have to return and smile next time.