Mistakes In The Mountains - Climbing Chapel Pond Slab

Every trip you make into the mountains must come with an understanding of the risks. Danger lurks around every corner. When you love the mountains and spend time in them, eventually you will learn these lessons. This fall, during a beautiful Adirondack weekend we learned this very well. The team, made of Dennis, Steve, Tan, and I, left on a Friday night expecting a fun adventure in the mountains, but it left us with much more. We planned to tackle our first multi-pitch trad climb and it seemed like Chapel Pond Slab, Regular Route, was the perfect option. It contained no bolts but the climbing was easy enough to dial in our rope skills while still providing an adventure. Over its 6 pitches the climbing averaged 5.5 yds of mainly slab climbing.

The Chapel Pond Slab Climb

After a long night drive from the NYC area up to the Adirondacks region we arrived at 2am and set up camp as quickly as possible. The first signs of fall hit as the temperature dropped into the low 30s through the night. After a short sleep we got up to get some shots and get on the wall as early as possible. We drove from our campsite over to the designated climbing parking lot and prepared the gear we would need for the climb. After we felt we had everything ready we shedded our heavy jackets and started to the base of the wall.

It was a quick 5 minute walk across the road and through the woods to get to the bottom. When we arrived there was a queue of climbers, so we had no option but to wait it out. This was the first time-killer of the trip. We were forced to wait, walking around with some nervous energy thinking about all the challenges in store for us. Gearing up for the wall

Finally, it was our turn on the wall. I decided to lead the first pitch to get things started. This pitch was super easy. I was able to scramble up very quickly and set up the anchor. I switched to belaying from the top and Dennis came up after me. Steve then led the pitch using the gear I placed. Tan followed him, getting belay from the top. All our systems were running smoothly and everything remained organized. At this point I had no doubts on the success of our day.

Tan volunteered to lead the next pitch and again everything went smoothly. We all followed up quickly and efficiently. I was feeling super pleased with our progress. At the top of the 2nd pitch we looked up to the 3rd pitch which contained the famed crack. It was Steve’s turn to lead now so he geared up and mentally prepared for the first real challenge of the climb. Slowly he made his way up the pitch and radioed down to us. He reported, with a slight shaking in his voice, that he had finished the pitch and built the anchor, confirming that the next climber was ready. Tan then climbed up the pitch with a surprising lack of difficulty and fear. Now it was my turn to lead this 3rd pitch. Leading comes with a certain risk of larger falls and much more faith in your equipment. Knowing this, my nerves started to flair up as I started up. The first 50 feet were easy and each of my movements had purpose and confidence behind them. Now I looked up and saw that I was at the bottom of the crack.

I knew it was time to face the fears and get it done, so I started up the crack. The first 10 feet weren't too steep and I started to get into a groove. The crack was small, too small to put your whole hand in and much too small for your feet. This forced you to place your feet outside on the blank wall and just your fingers could fit in the crack, squeezing desperately to remain on the wall. After those first 10 feet, the wall amped up and got steeper, much steeper. My climbing technique was still working but my chances of falling definitely increased. I looked up and saw the gear I needed to clip into. It was still 5 feet higher than I was. My brain started racing, doing the math of my fall. I was 20 feet above the last piece I was clipped into. Steve on the 3rd Pitch: The Crack

This means my fall would be easily double that; a crushing 40 feet that would surely leave me injured. I tried to shake this out of my mind knowing it would only hinder my climbing. I continued up and reached the piece clipping my rope in, safe once again. The slope flattened out and I hustled up to the next belay station where Steve and Tan waited, my hands shaking as the adrenaline wore off. A sense of pride came over me and I belayed Dennis to the top.

We all sat at the belay station, a little shaken up from the intensity of the last climb. The wind whipped a little adding to the exposure of the ledge. We all knew that regardless we had to keep moving as it had taken over an hour for everyone to climb the last pitch. This 4th pitch looked very difficult from our position and Tan bravely offered to lead it. We organized our gear and he set off on a very difficult 10 foot section. This pitch wasn’t as difficult as the last, but it still took time to get everyone to the top. During this we dropped one of the walkie talkies and our communication was effectively shut off, slowing us down further. Once we got to the top of the 4th pitch we decided to let 2 climbers that had been trailing us throughout the day go past. It was the right thing to do as we were far slower than them but they took over an hour to get past us. Now time had become a major issue and we all knew it.

The 5th pitch was arguably the most difficult although it was the shortest and the last real difficult climbing section left. Steve volunteered to lead this pitch, and I wasn’t planning to argue with him. We all watched up in worry as he crossed a potential dangerous fall zone. Slowly and carefully he reached up into a generous handhold, giving him the space to place gear and protect himself from a bad fall. From here he was able to navigate the remainder of the pitch with relative ease. Relief flooded over us as now all the hard climbing was over and each of us followed suit up the pitch with the safety of a top rope belay on our harnesses. The sun had begun to head into a sunset-like glow around the mountains and we knew we had to hurry. Pitch 6 was 5.easy. We all rushed up to the top of the slab as quickly as possible.

Dennis with Thumbs Up, top of the 4th pitch

We organized our gear and prepared for the rather infamous and ominous descent waiting for us. Research showed us it would be complex to find the way down the slab. From our understanding we had to cross a rock slab and then the trail would head down a steep ravine. We set off hoping that the slab and gully would be obvious. The top of the slab via Drone Shot

We walked quickly to beat the sunset and maybe this cost us some focus because we walked right past the gulley. Then we continued to walk and walk and walk. All in the wrong direction. We traversed further along the cliffs, prying our eyes for a trail or sign of the way down. We soon arrived at a large slab which we were sure was the slab mentioned in the beta (it wasn’t). With cliffs all around us and much of the rock covered in water and slime, we explored every option of descent but none of them seemed traveled or even possible. Now the sun was almost set and a blanket of darkness was slowly covering us. This was really the first time my mind started to tackle the idea of being stuck up on top of the cliff and panic started to creep up my spine.

I think we all started to get this feeling and knew we needed to talk this through. The sun had set and we were no closer to finding a way out. We had to change plans. We agreed it was too dangerous to walk along the cliffs for a way down. I decided to check my phone to see if we had service. No service, but I had gotten a notification less than hour ago. We decided to retrace our steps to where we last had service. The forecast called for a cold night, one we were not prepared for in the slightest along with rain in the forecast for tomorrow. We had enough water for the night but no food. We decided we would easily survive the night but it would not be the most comfortable experience. With all this information we decided that it was time to call 911. Luckily my phone was able to make the call and we soon got placed on the line with an operator.

After a long conversation and a lot of waiting they were able to put us in contact with a local climber. He wasn’t sure but he said he would try to come up the descent route and get us that night. No definite plans were made and we were left with some hope, but it felt like the possibility of staying the night was still high.

The Descent Route which we couldn't find

Everyone stayed incredibly calm and collected throughout the whole experience. As the colder night temperatures set in we began to think of ways to use our ropes and surroundings to keep us warmer. Just then we heard a voice through the woods. We screamed back trying to get their attention. I was confused as we had only gotten off the phone minutes ago and the rescue was impossibly fast. Regardless, we jumped up and started screaming back and forth, waving our shining lights. He heard us! And relief flooded through us. He was not with 911 but just a local climber that heard some people had not come down from the rocks today. He had miraculously climbed what took us 8+ hours in 20 mins with no ropes. What a badass.

He was able to easily guide us down the descent and we were back to the car within 30 minutes. We called off the recuse from 911 and really were left completely unscathed. In reflection I feel incredibly lucky. I think we handled the situation well and made the right decisions. Still there's a lot we should have done to not get in that situation to begin with and be more prepared once we were in it. Every rescue puts more people in danger. A rescue call is never something you should plan on using or bank on as a fail safe. The best thing for us to do is learn and grow as climbers and adventurers from this experience. While we can’t change the past, we can always try to improve our future, and future adventures are always right on the horizon.