Trip Report: Earning a New Wall in the Beartooths

Rite of Groot: Earning a New Wall in the Beartooths

TOPO |  FULL PHOTO GALLERY

I first noted the north face of Mt. Rearguard while skiing under it in 2010 during a winter attempt of the Bear's Tooth – a spire jutting out from Beartooth Mountain's east face. Phil and I didn't climb that trip, and instead waited out a blizzard near the base. We returned later that winter, not to attempt the Bear's Tooth again but to climb some ice lines we'd spotted on Rearguard's northwestern aspects. Again I skied under the face, wondering if it had been climbed.

A decade later I was living in the area. My friends Bill and Kyle suggested we take a summertime lap on the Bear's Tooth, and for the third time I was staring at the face, stoked about our climb but distracted by what is likely the biggest, steepest cliff in the Lake Fork drainage. On the way out, I shot zoom photos of the wall, then emailed my partners saying it was on for next year. Who's in?

No one had heard of a prior ascent. The journals didn't turn up anything either, so I geared up in the spring, ordering bolts, rivets, hangers, and more pins. I wasn't sure how much aid climbing to expect, as it's difficult to characterize features by looking through binoculars, but I wanted to be prepared to finish a route in any case. In early June, I carried a load up the seven mile approach and stashed it at the base, still with no committed partners but several interested ones. I touched the rock to make sure it was as good (it was!) and went home, return date unknown.

I returned with Kyle a month later and found a sweet basecamp site 10 minutes' walk to the cliff. The 1200 foot wall had an obvious start, but 3 or 4 pitches up was a fork in the route at a feature that looked like a face. Not a human face though, more like a character from some animated movie. My friend Jim suggested it looked like Groot – the walking tree from Guardians of the Galaxy.

I started with a 65 meter traversing ramp, ripping off mounds of lichen along the way, brought up Kyle, then traversed back left to a sloping ledge where I drilled a belay. Despite the weight, time and cost of drilling belays by hand, I felt this wall was a gem that would be repeated, so I committed to premium stainless hardware.

The third pitch presented a choice: an overhanging, difficult to access and discontinuous crack on an arete to my left, or a seam to the right that could be nailed. I decided for the seam, and six hours later had the next belay fixed. Here, a critical decision had to be made. Left or right of Groot? Left would take us into some promising systems, through a big roof and towards the summit on an exposed headwall. It probably would be mostly aid, or if it went free, would be stout! It also looked blank above the roof, potentially requiring a rivet ladder. Right of Groot heads into a corner/crack system running most of the way to the summit, but it looked like a lot of offwidths. The Salathe of the Beartooths?

As Kyle took off and Jim joined the next day, I decided to go right of Groot. After thin aiding right off the belay, I freed and french freed while pulling out lichen and loose rock, finishing the pitch underneath Groot's right eye. We rapped down, stashed our gear and headed out. I returned to the sight of my mountain backyard illuminated by flames. The Robertson Draw Fire on the eastern Beartooth Front was spreading quickly, and two days later I was packing up what I could and hoping the fire didn't reach the house I'd spent the last two years building with my own two hands. I watched from my window as flames engulfed the Front tree by tree; eventually growing to 40,000 acres. But that's another story.

With the fire controlled and my house narrowly missed, I returned with Bill and Kyle. We'd left the camp gear wrapped in a tarp and stuffed under a huge boulder, while climbing gear was stashed in a haul bag at the base. The camp gear had been broken into but was salvageable, but the haul bag had serious casualties. We're not sure what animal was responsible but think it was a bushy tailed woodrat. The demon chewed almost completely through the straps and ripped apart the top, pulling out most of the contents. My big wall harness was a total loss, my fingerless gloves were gone, jumar handles chewed through to the metal, and the foam in our helmets was mostly chewed away, making them useless.

Worse yet, both of my approach shoe soles had started delaminating and by that point were useless; I had to duct tape the entire toe box on both. Without a harness, helmet or functional shoes, and a bunch of other gear looking hideous, we decided this wasn't our time to climb and hiked out the next morning, but only after using Bill's 60x spotting scope to have a final look.

My friend Spencer had cleared his work schedule and committed to a visit, and at the last minute recruited Kate, who was eager to see what big wall new routing was all about. We approached with four days of supplies and a splitter forecast. They kicked into gear the same day and Spencer dispatched the 5.11 5th pitch onsight, returning to camp by headlamp.

Kate jumped into the lead the next day, followed by Spencer, who both freed their pitches. We were now at the top of the 7th pitch, and the daily commute was getting to be a bit much. So we agreed to try to aim for the top the next day. I would bring up a G7 inflatable portaledge and work on anchors the next morning while Spencer and Kate would work pitches 3 and 4 to see if they'd go free.

We jugged the lines one more time and I led off on an exciting squeeze chimney followed a good crack system, ending just under a prominent ramp where the angle of the wall eases up. It was already 4 pm, but we decided to keep going. Spencer took off up some 5.11 face moves with tricky pro, then explored the ramp for a direct line to the top. He lucked out, finding a splitter crack and corner system and freeing it at 5.10, running the 70 meter rope to its very end. From there, I climbed another 75 foot pitch of easy 5th to where we could all unrope and walk around. We had succeeded, but there was still work to do.

We rapped down at sunset to the top of the 8th pitch, leaving the rope fixed. I wished Spencer and Kate a safe descent, which was tedious with traversing rappels and passing many knots from rope damage, while I set up the amazing G7 ledge and settled in. A first light I jugged back up, installed rap rings at the top of the 9th pitch and put in an intermediate pin anchor to break up the monster rappel.

Meanwhile, Spencer and Kate were working the crux of the route – the 3rd and start of the 4th pitch. While I had originally aided the right side of the 3rd pitch, Spencer began figuring out the moves on the left side while Kate added a bolt over unprotectable face moves above the 3rd belay. The consensus: it would go free, but the grade was unknown. With darkness approaching and Kate's time up, I left the wall yet again.

Awful weather set into the Beartooths, so we waited out days of rain at my house while working our jobs.  When it cleared, temps dropped but we had a three day window. The goal was to free the route in a day, but first we had to finish add a few remaining bolts at the crux moves. When the work was done, we rested for an afternoon, satellite texted for an updated forecast, and packed our kit for the next morning. We opted for a lightweight bivy quilt in case we didn't want to rap at night.

Rising at 4 am and leaving camp by 5, we arrived at the start of the crux pitch at a decent hour. Spencer had the moves more or less worked out and was excited to give it a go on lead. He dispached the pitch in excellent, calculated style and called it 5.12b. I set off on the next tricky pitch but wasn't able to send it.  Wanting to climb the wall in team-free style, I relinquished the tricky pitch, and Spencer pegged it at 5.11+.  Above this, everything had already been freed so we felt good.

But the storm took a toll on the mountain, and water seeps and drips were everywhere above the 4th pitch.  Amazingly, Spencer led most of the upper section regardless of the slickness by sewing it uptight (one 15 foot section was too dangerous, so he pulled on gear). The wetness slowed us down and we didn't top out until after dark.  We rapped to the ramp and explored for a bivy. After 90 minutes of stacking rocks and tamping down dirt, we had a marginal bivy for two.

The only thing to do the next day was fine tune some anchors and remove all our gear from the wall, so we were down by noon.  The project was over, and was equipped to be safe, yet still committing. Kyle and Bill greeted us at the base after approaching that morning with empty packs and congratulated us. They each took a massive load and headed out, while Jim backhauled a load I had partially hiked out before.

At the trailhead, Jim was hosting a tailgate party and we swapped stories until moving it to downtown Red Lodge, where real food awaited us. I can't thank Bill, Kyle and Jim enough for everything they did to support the project. And props to Kate, who mastered jumars, aiders and hammers on the fly while smiling the entire time!

The final creation is The Rite of Groot: V, 5.12b, or 5.9 A3-, 1200 feet.  Our strategy yielded 10 pitches, but breaking the 1st and 9th pitch into two cuts down on rope drag, making it 12.  If a party links pitches 6 and 7 and doesn't climb the final pitch, it could be done in 8, though it's ambitious.

All rap anchors are equipped with rap rings and directionals were placed where needed (see topo), allowing for all but one rap anchor to double as belays. While we relied on pins initially, it can now be freed without them (still required for aiding though).

Give it a shot sometime and post a TR! Email pdronkers at g mail dot com if you want more beta!

Project Crew: Pete Dronkers (Red Lodge), Spencer Gray (Portland, OR), Kate Mylan (Seattle), Kyle Eaton, Jim Rott, and Bill Oxendahl (all from Billings)

Amazing story, and I know a long-time dream come to fruition.  Great work by the team / an epic route born! 

Awesome story can’t wait to give it a shot! 

Proud line and strong work! Beartooths have so much still untapped... a couple of weeks ago my friend Nate and I accidentally put up a new line on a formation above the Upper Doublet. If you ever need a partner for a future mission, reach out!

Pete Dronkers wrote:

Rite of Groot: Earning a New Wall in the Beartooths

TOPO |  FULL PHOTO GALLERY Wordle

I first noted the north face of Mt. Rearguard while skiing under it in 2010 during a winter attempt of the Bear's Tooth – a spire jutting out from Beartooth Mountain's east face. Phil and I didn't climb that trip, and instead waited out a blizzard near the base. We returned later that winter, not to attempt the Bear's Tooth again but to climb some ice lines we'd spotted on Rearguard's northwestern aspects. Again I skied under the face, wondering if it had been climbed.

A decade later I was living in the area. My friends Bill and Kyle suggested we take a summertime lap on the Bear's Tooth, and for the third time I was staring at the face, stoked about our climb but distracted by what is likely the biggest, steepest cliff in the Lake Fork drainage. On the way out, I shot zoom photos of the wall, then emailed my partners saying it was on for next year. Who's in?

No one had heard of a prior ascent. The journals didn't turn up anything either, so I geared up in the spring, ordering bolts, rivets, hangers, and more pins. I wasn't sure how much aid climbing to expect, as it's difficult to characterize features by looking through binoculars, but I wanted to be prepared to finish a route in any case. In early June, I carried a load up the seven mile approach and stashed it at the base, still with no committed partners but several interested ones. I touched the rock to make sure it was as good (it was!) and went home, return date unknown.

I returned with Kyle a month later and found a sweet basecamp site 10 minutes' walk to the cliff. The 1200 foot wall had an obvious start, but 3 or 4 pitches up was a fork in the route at a feature that looked like a face. Not a human face though, more like a character from some animated movie. My friend Jim suggested it looked like Groot – the walking tree from Guardians of the Galaxy.

I started with a 65 meter traversing ramp, ripping off mounds of lichen along the way, brought up Kyle, then traversed back left to a sloping ledge where I drilled a belay. Despite the weight, time and cost of drilling belays by hand, I felt this wall was a gem that would be repeated, so I committed to premium stainless hardware.

The third pitch presented a choice: an overhanging, difficult to access and discontinuous crack on an arete to my left, or a seam to the right that could be nailed. I decided for the seam, and six hours later had the next belay fixed. Here, a critical decision had to be made. Left or right of Groot? Left would take us into some promising systems, through a big roof and towards the summit on an exposed headwall. It probably would be mostly aid, or if it went free, would be stout! It also looked blank above the roof, potentially requiring a rivet ladder. Right of Groot heads into a corner/crack system running most of the way to the summit, but it looked like a lot of offwidths. The Salathe of the Beartooths?

As Kyle took off and Jim joined the next day, I decided to go right of Groot. After thin aiding right off the belay, I freed and french freed while pulling out lichen and loose rock, finishing the pitch underneath Groot's right eye. We rapped down, stashed our gear and headed out. I returned to the sight of my mountain backyard illuminated by flames. The Robertson Draw Fire on the eastern Beartooth Front was spreading quickly, and two days later I was packing up what I could and hoping the fire didn't reach the house I'd spent the last two years building with my own two hands. I watched from my window as flames engulfed the Front tree by tree; eventually growing to 40,000 acres. But that's another story.

With the fire controlled and my house narrowly missed, I returned with Bill and Kyle. We'd left the camp gear wrapped in a tarp and stuffed under a huge boulder, while climbing gear was stashed in a haul bag at the base. The camp gear had been broken into but was salvageable, but the haul bag had serious casualties. We're not sure what animal was responsible but think it was a bushy tailed woodrat. The demon chewed almost completely through the straps and ripped apart the top, pulling out most of the contents. My big wall harness was a total loss, my fingerless gloves were gone, jumar handles chewed through to the metal, and the foam in our helmets was mostly chewed away, making them useless.

Worse yet, both of my approach shoe soles had started delaminating and by that point were useless; I had to duct tape the entire toe box on both. Without a harness, helmet or functional shoes, and a bunch of other gear looking hideous, we decided this wasn't our time to climb and hiked out the next morning, but only after using Bill's 60x spotting scope to have a final look.

My friend Spencer had cleared his work schedule and committed to a visit, and at the last minute recruited Kate, who was eager to see what big wall new routing was all about. We approached with four days of supplies and a splitter forecast. They kicked into gear the same day and Spencer dispatched the 5.11 5th pitch onsight, returning to camp by headlamp.

Kate jumped into the lead the next day, followed by Spencer, who both freed their pitches. We were now at the top of the 7th pitch, and the daily commute was getting to be a bit much. So we agreed to try to aim for the top the next day. I would bring up a G7 inflatable portaledge and work on anchors the next morning while Spencer and Kate would work pitches 3 and 4 to see if they'd go free.

We jugged the lines one more time and I led off on an exciting squeeze chimney followed a good crack system, ending just under a prominent ramp where the angle of the wall eases up. It was already 4 pm, but we decided to keep going. Spencer took off up some 5.11 face moves with tricky pro, then explored the ramp for a direct line to the top. He lucked out, finding a splitter crack and corner system and freeing it at 5.10, running the 70 meter rope to its very end. From there, I climbed another 75 foot pitch of easy 5th to where we could all unrope and walk around. We had succeeded, but there was still work to do.

We rapped down at sunset to the top of the 8th pitch, leaving the rope fixed. I wished Spencer and Kate a safe descent, which was tedious with traversing rappels and passing many knots from rope damage, while I set up the amazing G7 ledge and settled in. A first light I jugged back up, installed rap rings at the top of the 9th pitch and put in an intermediate pin anchor to break up the monster rappel.

Meanwhile, Spencer and Kate were working the crux of the route – the 3rd and start of the 4th pitch. While I had originally aided the right side of the 3rd pitch, Spencer began figuring out the moves on the left side while Kate added a bolt over unprotectable face moves above the 3rd belay. The consensus: it would go free, but the grade was unknown. With darkness approaching and Kate's time up, I left the wall yet again.

Awful weather set into the Beartooths, so we waited out days of rain at my house while working our jobs.  When it cleared, temps dropped but we had a three day window. The goal was to free the route in a day, but first we had to finish add a few remaining bolts at the crux moves. When the work was done, we rested for an afternoon, satellite texted for an updated forecast, and packed our kit for the next morning. We opted for a lightweight bivy quilt in case we didn't want to rap at night.

Rising at 4 am and leaving camp by 5, we arrived at the start of the crux pitch at a decent hour. Spencer had the moves more or less worked out and was excited to give it a go on lead. He dispached the pitch in excellent, calculated style and called it 5.12b. I set off on the next tricky pitch but wasn't able to send it.  Wanting to climb the wall in team-free style, I relinquished the tricky pitch, and Spencer pegged it at 5.11+.  Above this, everything had already been freed so we felt good.

But the storm took a toll on the mountain, and water seeps and drips were everywhere above the 4th pitch.  Amazingly, Spencer led most of the upper section regardless of the slickness by sewing it uptight (one 15 foot section was too dangerous, so he pulled on gear). The wetness slowed us down and we didn't top out until after dark.  We rapped to the ramp and explored for a bivy. After 90 minutes of stacking rocks and tamping down dirt, we had a marginal bivy for two.

The only thing to do the next day was fine tune some anchors and remove all our gear from the wall, so we were down by noon.  The project was over, and was equipped to be safe, yet still committing. Kyle and Bill greeted us at the base after approaching that morning with empty packs and congratulated us. They each took a massive load and headed out, while Jim backhauled a load I had partially hiked out before.

At the trailhead, Jim was hosting a tailgate party and we swapped stories until moving it to downtown Red Lodge, where real food awaited us. I can't thank Bill, Kyle and Jim enough for everything they did to support the project. And props to Kate, who mastered jumars, aiders and hammers on the fly while smiling the entire time!

The final creation is The Rite of Groot: V, 5.12b, or 5.9 A3-, 1200 feet.  Our strategy yielded 10 pitches, but breaking the 1st and 9th pitch into two cuts down on rope drag, making it 12.  If a party links pitches 6 and 7 and doesn't climb the final pitch, it could be done in 8, though it's ambitious.

sweet! thanks for the share!

great story. thank you