Reality Bath Gets a Repeat

We can all agree this is a huge step in ice climbing with massively heavy loads. He had to haul up his massive balls the whole way

Franklyn Dunbar wrote:

Regardless of objective danger, that climb is in fact a solid Canadian Rockies Wi6. And several pitches of it at that. Obviously, the objective danger of climbing under a serac required navigating highly technical ice faster than any roped up party could. Climbing this in a controlled and efficient fashion requires a ton of time spent climbing at this grade and an unfailing head game.

I mean. Lots of people climb Rockies wi6. You'll see frequent reports on the FB group about curtain call, VR, nemesis etc. And the response is just like "nice job and thanks for the beta, random climber", not "holy shit this is one of the most impressive ascents of the decade and that kid is really going places".

Of course, his ascent is technically impressive and he has to be mentally and physically strong to pull that off - but not newsworthy for that alone. what really makes it stand out is the objective hazard. That's the difference between him and hundreds of ascents on rockies wi6s every year.

Sure, gear has been getting better. but still no one did it in the past 10 years when gear was good, either. 

A Reality Check

By Balin Miller

“My fates long since by Thetis were disclosed

And each alternate, life or fame, proposed;

Here, if I stay, before the Trojan town, 

Short is my date, but deathless my renown:

If I return, I quit immortal praise

For years on years, and long-extended days.” 

(Homer, Iliad)

It’s 3 AM. I'm Sitting in McDonald’s at the Buenos Aires airport waiting for my flight to Calgary. It leaves in 10 hours. I’m incredibly sore after getting down from the Californiana on Fitz Roy just a couple days ago, but I’m in fairly good spirits from Rolo psyching me up. A few TOOL albums later, and after passing out on a table, I find myself checking my bags and hopping on my flight. My choice of in-flight entertainment was some downloaded anime and Jack London’s Call of the Wild. I felt somewhat embarrassed honestly for not having read it despite being from Alaska. It took me to a place of dark and cold; a stark contrast from sunny El Chalten. 

I was looking forward to climbing in the Rockies before heading down to Spokane to see the family. The Rockies had been calling me. Chalten was a fun diversion of sun and cigarettes. I summited Cerro Torre, Aguja Standhardt and Fitzroy, but my heart was in these mountains. And so was my Prius—stashed in Calgary, where I left it after finishing a fall trip to Yosemite, it was still waiting for me there after a Patagonian summer. Now it was finally winter. The only minor complication was that I was just off a big climb (3 days solo on Fitz Roy) and two days of traveling. Whatever. Shortly after touching down in Calgary, I was hurtling towards Canmore.

The following day I was undecided on what to climb, so I drove out to Curtain Call before deciding on Virtual Reality. I had heard it was maybe easier than the WI6 consensus, and certainly easier than last season. I was solo and frankly, other than the Ragni Route on Cerro Torre and Exocet on Standhardt, I had hardly touched ice this season, I had been thinking of soloing VR for a while. At the base, I ran into two climbers I had met a year prior at the base of Kitty Hawk. They remembered me from my glitter and referred to me as a “magical being,” which truly warmed my heart. I started up VR thinking my fresh picks and front points would make things easy. but my out of shape calves and forearms were having a tough time. I pushed through it, took some rests and made it to the top. Walking down back to the parkway I looked over towards White Pyramid, where you get a clear view of Reality Bath. Every time I’ve gone up to Murchison I always take a second to look; usually it’s either cloudy or not formed. But to my excitement it looked thin, but had more ice than I’d ever seen on it.

I wasn’t really thinking of climbing it, but after looking closely at the photo I had of it I realized it was fully in. I felt obligated. I couldn’t not try it. The first time I read Kiss or Kill I could only read a chapter at a time. Twight’s words brought so much emotion. I needed to space it out. Reading it through times of success and depression, I felt I could relate to his anguish. Although now, looking back, I find it somewhat silly to still put such a dramatic book on a pedestal. To me though, it’s that whole generation of climbers that gives me ambition. Steve House, Carl Tobin, Barry Blanchard, Dave Cheesemond, Tobin Sorenson and others (yes, Steve is in a younger generation than the others). Reading about those guys doing wild shit drives me to have similar experiences. After the long drive back to Canmore, I passed out excited for the adventure that awaited me.

With climbing and travel, I had been flat out for over a week. I got back to Canmore late. I needed sleep, so I opted to get up at a casual 5:30 am. I ran to Starbucks to get breakfast and coffee, and drove 30-50 km/hr over the limit to the parkway. I left the car at 8:00. There was light snow and the forecast showed strong winds. But it was calm at the road. I started down to the river and up a frozen creek to the lake. The travel was irritating. The snow was only 12-24 inches deep but very dry powder. Snow shoes would sink in, and when I picked up my legs it felt like there was 10 pounds of snow on each foot. Skis would have been nice up high, but I would have had to carry them due to the icy/rocky creek and shallow snow down low. It was certainly making me work for it, unwilling to roll over and let me have it without a fight. I eventually made it to the bowl below Reality Bath. To my surprise there wasn’t any obvious Serac debris at the base or any apparent teetering blocks of ice above the climb. Unfortunately the wind had come to play, but it had stopped snowing. It took exactly 4 hours for the approach, so I started climbing at noon. If I had a partner this would have been concerningly late since it would be getting dark by 5, but I knew I could romp up the majority of the climb quickly.

So much lore over this route had evolved in the past 37 years, owing mainly to Twight’s vivid essay on this climb. Previous seasons I managed to shave off a minute from Twight’s time on Professor Falls and simul-soloed Slipstream with Ethan Berkeland. Now I was staring down the Reality Bath in person. Headphones in, and pressed play on a newly made playlist.

“Somewhere the blast furnace explodes Plumes of amber in the night sky

Each explosion bounces From Horizon to horizon From Horizon… to horizon

And for a while, the slow pulse boy Stood by the window

And let the fire sink into his skin” 

(And Also the Trees, “Slow Pulse Boy”)

I could still feel Patagonia in my legs and the post holing didn't help. My calves weren’t liking the lower angle ice. Tier after tier I found myself making good progress. But the wind was getting stronger and so was the spindrift. At times I had to put my head down and wait it out. I soon arrived at the crux pitch. It was steep, thin, and fragile for the first 15 meters. Some swings would break off body size chunks and others would make the ice vibrate and bellow. The spindrift worsened and my arms felt heavy and exhausted. I debated throwing in a screw and hanging off it. But the climbing eased off higher, so I shook out in spindrift and kept going. The pitch ended up being around 50 meters of steep and sustained ice. I dug out a poor spot in between the snow and rock before the next pitch to rest. I drank some water and ate some food and watched my backpack fill with spindrift. I got excited by how close to the big blue serac I was. I felt as though it was calling me towards it. The next tiers went by so quickly and I was below the glacier before I knew it. I had debated on climbing the serac but after kicking off a few small slides on the snow ledges and general fatigue I decided it best to pass on the serac much like Twight and Rackliff.

The raps went smoothly and quickly—oh how nice it is to rappel ice and not the abrasive rock in Patagonia. All in all, it took about 3 hours up and an hour and a half to descend. I threw my wet puffy in my pack at the base along with my ropes and started walking back. I was psyched, some dancing took place as I finished my last cookies and the sun went down over Chephren and White Pyramid. It almost seemed like a fever dream. There was a part of me that found it sad now that this great route was somewhat demystified. The walk back was shitty but substantially faster. I was so thrilled, the drive to the Georgetown took only an hour and 20 minutes. The poutine and Guinness fed my cramped muscles.

I heard (from a reliable source) Balin only did it cuz he ran out of money and a friend said they’d give him a pack of Marlboro reds if he sent 

Bug Boy wrote:

I heard (from a reliable source) Balin only did it cuz he ran out of money and a friend said they’d give him a pack of Marlboro reds if he sent 

American spirit all the way sir 

ASAP Becky wrote:

American spirit all the way sir 

Now the real question, what color?

Josh Joyner wrote:

Now the real question, what color?

I haven’t tried them all, maybe yellow 

ASAP Becky wrote:

I haven’t tried them all, maybe yellow 

I think you could go for a bag of black perique after this… no sense in mellowing the vibe just yet 

Ciggies are bad!!!!! kush only