The Bristlecone Castle by Ben Scott

Life is a long crazy beast. Friends, Jobs, Relationships all seem to come and go. At moments they feel like they will never end, but looking back on them later in life they seem like just a flicker of time. Some people and things seem more concrete, they don't beam bright and fade away, they will always be there. Bristlecone Pines are thought to be the oldest living organisms on the planet. I find comfort in knowing that they've seen thousands of years before my time, and I will surely be nothing but a flicker in their 5000 year old memory.

Doug standing at the base of a massive Bristlecone Pine: 

 In the summer of 2010 I was out searching for new boulders when I spied an interesting cliff across the Laramie River Valley. Tall angular walls on green stone sitting like a giant castle on top of a ridge. The potential looked great but it would be almost a year before I could get up close. My friend Doug and I had met back in earlier days, young and dumb, happy and poor, we lived in the moment and took no excuses to get what we wanted. He had moved to Steamboat years ago but we stayed in touch and tried to get together to climb when we could. The Laramie River Valley by Cameron Pass was almost perfectly half way between us. I got Doug psyched on the possibilities of the new cliff and agreed to meet for some reconnaissance.

Bristlecone Castle from across the Laramie River Valley:

 That first trip in 2011 was a downer to say the least. We had jumped the gun on the snow and I had assumed the bouldering near the cliff would be better than the cliff itself. So i talked Doug into shouldering foam instead of a rack and off we went slogging up hundreds of feet of snow drifts, talus and deadfall. We reached the boulders and were psyched at first. Tons of huge granite blocs jutted out of the snow and talus everywhere. Rock quality seemed similar to the Gandalf area in the Poudre, so we thought we'd stumbled on a gem. But new areas can seem 5-star at first only to crumble into choss upon further inspection. Landings were weird and scary, starting holds were not there, and the rock quality fluctuated between perfect granite and total crystally choss. We were bummed and tired but decided to drag ourselves the rest of the way north to where the cliff sat. Cresting the final 3 foot snow drift we gazed upon an amazing collection of 100 foot panels and aretes. The cliff was amazing and the bouldering was sub-par. Doug made sure to "told you so" the whole fricken way back down to the trucks.

The rest of the summer was a body crushing fury of development. I spent a lot of time scraping new boulders around Cameron Pass and Mt Evans broken up by route development at the new cliff. Countless days of Doug and I shouldering huge packs full of ropes, trad gear, cleaning tools, drill and hardware for the 45min steep bushwack up to the crag. We had other buddies come tag along from time to time, but Doug and I were commited in our love for this lost cliff.

We developed 7 nice lines that summer including the Golden Arete and Iron Maiden with our friends Jason and Chris. The panel that holds Golden Arete also contains a striking crack line on its right side. A left to right angling splitter lead to an improbable looking roof and a blank looking face above. We threw in a bolted anchor and got to work toproping and cleaning the line. Doug was of course ecstatic to find such a long crack line that appeared to go on all natural gear. I was worried about the crux roof and the face above being safely protectable. Doug being the experienced trad/aid guy denounced my fears by finding an amazing #00 placement in the crux and some other small cams to link the heady face to the anchor. The climb was great for me on TR, but the thought of sacking up above the 00 was too much for me.

Doug Mckee on the outstanding Golden Arete 10+/11-:

Dave Ludders gets an early repeat of the sharp arete Iron Maiden 11+:

Doug kept the redpoint in his sites the whole summer. Definitely nervous about the sharp end but committed to seeing if he could pull off the coveted first ascent. As the summer began to wind down, we were running out of time. Fresh snow was on the Mummies and the thought of waiting 6 months to try the route again seemed heart wrenching. So at the end of September we found ourselves huffing and puffing up that never ending hill again. Slipping on loose sand and scree we yet again wondered what sort of strange psychosis "rock climbing" really was. Check out the video to watch Doug crush the project in his usual way.  

Guillotine follows the blue line:

Guillotine 12a FA from BS on Vimeo.

At the end of the day, having a beer and a smoke back at the trucks we reflected back on everything that had happened that summer. Mostly we talked about the feeling of possibility the cliff gave us and the stunning beauty of the Bristlecone Pines that surrounded it on every flank. The sends were great but just being in a beautiful place with good friends and new excitement were the concrete memories. People come and go but some things stick around, like the deep strong roots of a pine tree clinging to an ancient mountain.

-Ben Scott