The next morning we arose and uneventfully ate breakfast without really saying much to each other. We had decided to ramp up the climbing a notch and choose McTech Arete (5.10 6p) as our next objective. This would be the hardest climbing I had done in an alpine setting and my mind wondered back and forth on whether I was up to for challenge. We had packed the night before, after choosing our line, so once we were done with breakfast we headed out of camp.

It was a short half-hour hike to the base of the climb, and once we arrived there was already one party ahead of us. We began to gear-up once the second person in that party began to follow the first pitch, at the same time a group of Spaniards began the first pitch of McTech Direct to our right. We were a party of three and the Spaniards were a party of four and with the party ahead of us, that would make a total of nine people on basically the same route. Fortunately, the party on the first pitch where we were starting to climb had plans to continue up the NE Ridge of Bugaboo Spire.

Rob on McTech Arete

Rob led the first pitch, through a small roof, and onto a horn that was formed from a large slab that leans against the main face. Brian and I followed, separately, and we all crammed ourselves onto the small perch at the base of the second pitch. Rob led this pitch as well, since Brian and I were both chicken. Once I had followed this pitch I realized that I could have easily led it myself; My head was still playing tricks on me.

Pitch three was mine, and it was a short crummy bit of 4th class climbing to a large ledge below the finest pitch of the route. By this time, we had already been climbing for at least three hours and we started to realize that we were taking too much time. Our water supply was nearly gone and I was starting to feel the effects of the sun beating down from above. I wanted to lead pitch four, and to my surprise, both Rob and Brian agreed that I should have a go at it.

Author on McTech Arete

I started up the twin cracks, stemming between them both, and Jamming where necessary, up to where the crack juts out into space. I plugged a piece into the small roof, and reached around and pulled myself up above it. What followed next is the most perfect hand-crack I have ever had the pleasure to plug my hands into. For the next 90 feet, I ran it out to where the crack kicks back a bit and enters a shallow Chimney. I placed a couple pieces of Pro and thrutched my way up the constriction, falling as I Pumped out more than once. Finally, after a short hanging rest, I muscled my way up and onto the belay ledge that starts the fifth pitch.

After hauling up Rob and Brian, and knowing that the remaining two pitches were not as appealing as what we had already climbed, we all decided to rap back down and call it a day. Of course, the faster climbing Spanish team had just finished the remaining pitches and was starting down at the same time. After a few raps, all seven of us found ourselves at the same rappel station where we shared ropes and I displayed my rusty Spanish lingo. We were back at camp just after noon and again went through the ritual of finding another route to climb for the next day.