Usually one would assume a spring break is the time for heading somewhere warm, getting a taste of the salt, sand, and sun before heading back to the last and arguably hardest part of our semester. For me, that thought was completely disregarded, because I went ICE CLIMBING this weekend?!? Oh, am I not giving you the expected pretty little build up description or something? Nope. I feel a sport as funky as this, plus the fact that your one and only resident nerd went and crushed it, deserves a little S.S.P. (shameless self-promotion).
So, after getting to Detroit, resting, and seeing a little of the city, myself, a very close friend, and two of this friend’s climbing friends (that was a mouthful) headed off to the Upper Peninsula. Equipped with two adorable puppies, lots of goofing off, and occasional deep conversations, the ride went by in a jiffy. To add, we got to cross over the Mackinaw Bridge to, oh, you guessed it, Ukraine, or so it looked as the welcome sign was changed to a support banner with no additional information, and we met the most hilarious deadpan gas station attendant who definitely deserves to be doing stand up instead.
Once in Munising (by the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore), we settled down for the night in a very…peculiar AirBnB. I mean, it was lovely, just a cabin overlooking a snowy little lake, but it had so many small details that left us all with a mild case of the creeps and funnies. We collectively noticed that every single painting was crooked, that there was an assortment of floor length mirrors in really odd places (all pointed across from a door or window?), the books ranged from authentic Asian cooking to a Trump-before-Trump-was-Trump memoir, the whole place had probably 1,000 wooden ducks, and lastly, the worst-vibing attic we have all ever been in. The second you walked up, the temperature dropped by about 10 degrees (I mean, this makes sense), there were three orphanage-esque beds, hardly any lighting, a taxidermy deer wearing a hat at eye-level, and a gross old carpet that felt decades older than the rest of the house. To add, there were probably five signs in various places that instructed us to keep the lights off and door closed, one of which was hand-written and left on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, quite intentionally. After all feeling… strange about it, we decided to share the beds on the first floor rather than split up and force someone into that attic. I got to sleep with my friend, which was a nice treat given my current state of isolation with grad school being so far and not enough time to make friends, not to mention this person is honestly the coolest person I’ve ever met, so win-win, ya know?
The next day, we stopped for breakfast in town, picked up our gear, and headed out to our first destination. Thankfully my friend’s friends have been to this area before for ice climbing and knew the ropes (ha, pun). We got set up at one called “Dryer Hose,” which was a monstrously tall frozen waterfall, got our top ropes safely in place and began. Watching the others go first, it looked like it would be quite easy, but once I was in the harness, I learned it was quite the opposite. There was a certain amount of brute force mixed with technique needed that I had a rough time getting over at first. But through that climbing instinct one gets from finding ways up other tall things, I managed to successfully scale it on my (kinda) first try. Being belayed by a person rather than autobelay means slips don’t equal start-overs and rests are totally doable. Making it to the top was beyond exhilarating. It felt 6000X better than finishing a hard top rope in a gym. There is something about hearing the water underneath the ice, the view of the snowy lake from above the treetops, and the fact that there was significantly more risk involved in this than what you’re used to that made it special, not to mention having a good friend there cheering you on when usually you climb alone.
By the time we finished in that area, we headed over to the next which was called “The Curtains.” By now, the sun was starting to get lower and the temperature plummeted. My friolenta self was absolutely destroyed by this, plus lack of proper technique burning me out much quicker led to an unfruitful attempt. I personally wasn’t too upset though, since not only was I just struggling to keep warm, but also that one of the others couldn’t finish it either/the other two struggled a bit in comparison to the Dryer Hose. Once done, we left our ropes up in the case we wanted to go night climbing, then got some groceries and a fresh pizza for dinner.
The next morning, I woke up to two of the others making a mega breakfast spread of eggs and potatoes and peppers and cinnamon rolls. We pigged out, as we should given our hard work, then got back to the ice. Since our gear was still out from the night before, I waited in the car while the others did a reattempt and/or started packing up. Then, we hiked through an idyllic winter painting to the next area with falls. We couldn’t identify which were which, but there were a series of them as we headed deeper into the forest. Finally, we hit one that looked big and solid enough to climb, despite being much wetter than the ones from the day before. After set up and resolving some rope issues, we dug into it. The first who climbed it found it too unstable to climb, and broke off a large amount of tiny icicles that had recently formed. Once deciding they had enough, my friend went, and as expected, absolutely crushed it. Then, I gave it a go, starting from a slightly different spot. My start point arguably was much sturdier and easier than what my friend used, but mid way up I slipped and went swinging back to where the rope was centered. I learned that helmets are wonderful inventions and just like masks, we should all use them to stay safe. Rather than give up, I started over in the place my friend did, and managed, despite the large amount of icicles needed to be crushed before finding the thick, sturdy ice below. A crampon rip in the pants and two wet gloves later, I made it once again. The final one of us went and topped out, collected our gear, and met us where the paths met. We then hiked back, returned any rental gear and packed up the cabin, and got pasties, yes, you read that right, as a post-climb snack.
Just like that, we began our drive once more, this time to where we started, and enjoyed the music, sunset, and company. After, I crashed with my friend and headed back to Chicago the next day. The trip was just such a wild spur of the moment happening, and to think what a glorious time such little planning led to! I am starting to realize I live for these little adventures, that they make the mundane daily existence turn into a thing I do just to be able to have these journeys. This is not to say I don’t romanticize my daily life, but with grad school breathing down my neck, it really felt like the play hard you deserve from all the work hard. Now, my allergies (Update: strep throat, weee! Tonsils need to be removed this summer it turns out.) have left me with a stuffy nose and I am using it as an excuse to stay up and bask in the feels the trip left me with, in so many ways. Yup, just writing this and pouring my heart out in my diary and letting my mind make song lyrics and art and more plans for the future before I have to go back to my grad school responsibilities in the morning.
Happy reading,
-Beppa