Archangel Valley offers climbers a spectacular view from the top

June 19, 2007

By SHARON McMillan/For the Frontiersman

Yes, it is. At last, the Archangel Valley Road in Hatcher Pass is open and drivable.

The clean but bumpy road was crowded by a steady flow of vehicles this last weekend, with hikers, climbers, campers and picnickers raring to get out and enjoy the valley's summer beauty.

The Monolith at the end of the Archangel Road near the Lane Hut trailhead was clogged with climbers. Vehicles squeezed into the parking lot at the Reed Lakes trailhead. People parked on the side of the road to pick what may have been fiddleheads (since the plants they were foraging through didn't look like berry bushes), while folks opened up their lawn chairs before sitting down and having lunch with a view.

As for myself, two friends - Eric Sjoden and Andy Hoyt - and three dogs, we bagged up our ropes and set off to climb a few pitches in what has been appropriately referred to as &#8220The Green Gully,” a gully that runs left and behind a rock wall known as &#8220The Diamond” and above a boulder field formed by rock slides. This area is at the end of the Archangel Road on the left and across the river.

The approach began about 12:30 p.m., when it was still sunny and there was a big blue sky. It took a bit of coaxing to convince two of the dogs to swim across the creek. Finally, Eric walked across the frigid creek, luring the dogs to the other side. The boulder field was our next obstacle. The golden retriever seems to have a real problem with jumping on, over or down large rocks. We thought we might be there all day but she eventually - and awkwardly - yelped her way up the boulders. After the 45-minute approach with three house dogs, we found ourselves at the base of our destination and began scoping out the 5.9 (decimal scale of difficulty) crack we were about to ascend.

It is known that Hatcher Pass puts all of its winter snow to good use and yet is still watered frequently, hence all the gorgeous green mountainsides and the flowing Archangel Creek. And because we usually expect a gray and rainy day out at Hatcher, we thought we had really lucked out. We should have known better.

Just as Eric began gearing up, the dark clouds above our head started to drop rain on our helmets and, more bothersome, our rock.

&#8220Go away!” Andy hollered toward the rain clouds.

Unlike hiking or biking, rain usually puts a dampened climber on the ground, only to wait for it to stop and the rock to dry.

I asked Andy how long he thought the rain would last.

He said it wouldn't be long. Sure enough, by the time he'd finished taking a drink, Eric was tying in to lead the route, which none of us knew the name of and required traditional gear placement. Eric quickly soared up the 25-meter crag and set up top rope at the first anchor.

With my camera in tow, I smoothly climbed up the crack until I met up with the slightly overhanging roof crack. The technique for climbing a crack is to stuff (jam) your hand or fingers into it and try to secure it enough to pull yourself up. I'd never tried to hand jam a crack in a roof before. The crack was a little too wide to constrict my hands, so I found my forearm jamming and taking a few tries before figuring out to move left and push off the arête and stand up and over the roof. The tough part was over.

I continued with ease to the fixed anchor, secured myself into the bolts and tried to get comfortable. Andy was working on a project route to the left of the climb I was on and I was going to snap photos of him as he scaled up the climb. I have wanted to experiment with climbing photography and figuring out how to make sure I get the shot and remain safe at the same time. But I never took into account how long I might be waiting on a ledge or wall while a climber pulled through a lead climb - especially a project line.

While I stood uncomfortably on a little ledge, and thunder rolled in above the gully, I looked out over Archangel Valley. People were everywhere and cars were driving in and out constantly. The clouds let the sun peek through, creating sunny spots throughout the valley floor. I was just thinking how pleasant it was to have such a view until I realized it had been close to an hour that I'd been standing there.

&#8220What's going on?” I yelled down to Eric, who was supposed to be belaying Andy, but was now freely walking around below.

&#8220Hold on, I'm almost there,” Andy answered. Then I also saw him freely walking below as well.

They both laughed and I realized that if I wanted to get my shot, then I'd have to wait for Andy to get back on the route and re-climb. I was waiting for him to get around a ledge so I could view him from where I was standing. After a 10 minute rest, Andy tied back in and attempted the project again. I was on my little ledge for another 30 minutes while Andy made progress, but he still didn't get around the ledge.

He was tired and got lowered.

I thought to myself, ‘I still don't have my shot and have been up here for an hour and a half being uncomfortable, getting cold and listening to thunder above my head.'

I asked Andy to lead the climb I was on so I could get my shot and also to bring me up a rope to rappel off of.

Just as he got five feet below me, my camera battery died.

After we both got down and after Eric and Andy climbed and cleaned Andy's other project route, we packed up and began our rocky descent with the dogs. Andy predicted hail.

We got down the boulder field and across the river, having only a few incidents with the dogs and got back to the car around 8 p.m. Hail began to knock on the windshield.

A whole afternoon and I only top-roped 25 meters of crack. But almost immediately, I reminded myself that I got a decent approach hike, was introduced to a new wall in The Green Gully, was stalled by only a little bit of rain and had spectacular views of the popular Archangel Valley. Everyone else in the valley could probably agree that it wasn't a bad day in Hatcher Pass at all.

Sharon McMullen is a 2007 graduate of the UAA journalism program. She lives in Palmer.