Sellrain Ice Climbing

Published on 2009-1-4 by Michael Stanton

Sellrain Ice Climbing

January 4, 2009

We made the short hike to the "Gasthausfall" near Luesens. Dan led a spicy WI4 pitch where it was kind of thin at the steepest points. He did a great job connecting protectable fat blue ice bulges with darker thin columns of steepness in-between. I really fought cold feet and then hands while belaying and then while seconding the long (65 meter) pitch. We rappelled from a tree anchor, then went to the car for snacks and to enjoy a few minutes of sun. There had been a party of about 10 Austrians taking a class on the left (easier) side of the ice fall. They were very nice, and suggested we go see the "Easy Afternoon" climb, which should be in good shape.

After a snack, we hiked in to Easy Afternoon. On a whim, I decided to use Dan's tool and glove combination (Petzl Numo leashless tools), and he agreed to use mine (Black Prophets with Android leashes). I climbed an easy section of WI3, getting used to the very different swing of these lighter tools, but loving the way they dig down into the ice at the end of a swing.

I went right when things steepened, and ended up in an intimidating little corner/cave with vertical icicles providing the only way up. I placed a screw and, before I could change my mind, I was fully on my tools, stemming as much as possible with my feet to ease the transition to the vertical column. This was tough! But it was my goal to lead WI4, so here I was. Very carefully, I climbed the 5 meter vertical step, then things angled back a bit where I placed a screw. I entered and exited two more of these icicle sections, easier than the first one but still pretty exciting. I noticed my hands were getting tired from (over)gripping the tools.

Along in here I made a huge mistake which would compound into a real, even dangerous hassle. We had a 70 meter rope, and I was pretty sure I could reach some kind of anchor at the top instead of stopping to belay. After the last vertical curtain there was an Ablakov anchor I could have made use of, though it would have been a very awkward hanging belay.

I looked down, briefly, and thought I saw Dan standing by our backpacks, which meant he had about 15-20 meters of rope that he could give me as he walked up to the base of the climb. Looking ahead, I was pretty sure that was all I needed. "I'll go for it," I called down to Dan.

In fact, what I saw was not reality. For whatever reason. I know I was tired. Actually, Dan was already standing at the base of the WI3 ice, and for me to climb further meant simul-climbing for him.

Also, with 70 meters of rope out, I pretty much couldn't hear anything he said.

So I kept climbing, getting onto the usual rotten, snowy stuff at the top of climbs. A little above me I saw a set of shrubs I could use for a belay. By equalizing two stout branches, I'd have a decent anchor, because the official tree anchor was way too far away. Some delicate mixed-moves were needed to reach up to the shrub, on a rocky shelf. As I left the security of deep snow and tottered on my crampons on a slab, I had the...absolutely horrific...experience of the rope pulling me hard .

I fell down into the snow and fought with all my might to prevent being pulled off the slope and sailing down over the vertical icefall below. I was yelling "please Dan, don't pull, please!"

Unknown to me for a long time, but Dan wasn't pulling on the rope. He was simul-climbing on the WI3 terrain and a pick broke, causing him to fall!

But I had no idea, I was left to wonder why, when he was just walking around down there, why would he PULL? Again, this stems from my completely wrong picture of where he was.

He fought his way back onto the ice. I tried again and reached the anchor, getting two slings over the shrubs with considerable effort. I had a very awkward belay, though it was adequate.

Dan climbed up slowly. Eventually, he decided I should be able to hear him, and started telling me what was going on. After several minutes, I understood that he 1) broke a pick, and 2) didn't have enough rope to be safely lowered to the ground. God almighty.

So Dan built an anchor, waited there, untied from the rope. I rigged a rappel, then came down, cleaning the screws as I went. Below Dan a ways was another Ablakov anchor. I went there, then Dan came down the rope to that point, then we rappelled from that anchor to the ground.

Only in here did I understand that Dan had fallen, and was on pretty serious terrain.

Lessons learned:

• When you see a good belay point use it...don't gamble on the length of the rope, don't "gun it for the trees."
• A 70 meter rope can be great, but especially where the climbing is hard, make being close enough to communicate a priority. If I knew about the pick breakage, I maybe could have send down a tool to Dan, or encouraged him to climb anyway (it was mostly hooking in holes behind icicles).
• This one is hard to guard against...but you can't always believe your eyes . When you are tired, stressed out...you might see what you want to see. It's true, I wanted to climb the easy exit ice/snow to a nice belay, rather than muck around with an awkward hanging belay. Some combination of weakness and desire actually affected what I saw.
• Dan had a bad feeling about it from below when I said I would continue past the Ablakov. He wishes he'd said "if you don't see something within 10 meters, you better stop!" That bit of strong advice would have made me do the correct thing, because I would have had to answer, "I think there will be something just over the rise, like 10-15 meters." Clearly, not good enough.
• Don't forget, as I did, that tools and crampons can break. Don't simul-climb on WI3. Better to solo if you must. Of course I didn't intend for us to be on such ground on simul-climbing, but that is what I got us into. Few things compare to the horror of holding a fall without an anchor, believe me!

I'm definitely embarassed writing this down, as it's a huge mistake and I should know better. It's doubly sad because the climb was a special breakthrough for me, and I was looking forward to Dan getting to experience those vertical curtains. Instead, Dan had to endure some stressful simulclimbing, then was forced to continue upward with a broken pick because of the inexorable logic of the rope. Without being able to communicate, there was no way to correct my misperception regarding his relative position on the route. All the way until I reached him, I thought he would have (at most) made the transition from 50 degree snow to 70 degree ice just at the moment I reached my belay shrubs. Nothing he said made sense to me until that misperception was forcibly corrected.

On the upside, I'm glad I did okay on the lead, I'm glad that, after the risk window had been passed (meaning I got to a belay), we retreated calmly and effectively. We analyzed the thing three different ways and thought about all the would-have should-have scenarios. If there is a psychological factor at play, Dan noted that I'm very always eager to put ground below me and that may warp my judgement. This isn't a new observation, it really is true that I'm very aggressive on the early pitches of a multipitch climb. However, I think the cause was different: I thought there was enough rope to reach the belay, and not until after the near accident did it become clear that my mental picture was wrong.

I hope you, good reader, never make such a stupid mistake!