After Tim and I went in to climb the Slimey the excitement was electric. We had found a really neat line, in rare conditions, and knew that there was more climbing to be done before the route was really completed.

In the days after I got a note that maybe Vernon Scarborough and some partners had gone and climbed the Slimey. I dialed up Vernon to ask about it and he confirmed that in January of 1984, he, John Culberson, and Sam Houston had climbed to the top of the ice pitch just like Tim and I had done. Vernon recounted there were hanging blocks of ice the size of school buses that presented high objective hazard, and after John lead the ice pitch the team retreated away from danger.

This discovery only stoked the fire to complete the route.

My main partner for this type of thing, Tim, was busy on the day that I was available to make another attempt. It was a weekday and work had to happen. The forecast didn't look good for the conditions to last through the weekend with some above freezing temps happening for a few days on the horizon. I knew that I had to try and find a different partner.

Shannon Milsaps is a climber of about 3 decades in the North Carolina scene and by reputation has lots of experience and exploration of new climbs to his credit. We had never climbed together before but he was my guy. I knew that this was the right choice because any climber who cuts their teeth in North Carolina and stays in the game long enough will acquire a certain gravitas about them. They are tough, don't mind the ‘schwack, can climb some weird rock, and generally have a gallows humor about them when the climbing gets hairy.

A plan was formed to meet at the trailhead around 7am on the day we were going in.

The other common thread to this whole tale is Paul Phillips. Anyone who climbs around the Carolinas has seen the magnificent photography coming from Paul. He captures shots that routinely leave the jaw dropped. While only a climber because he has to in order to get the “shot,” he lacks nothing in the Carolina climber's character. Paul is also one of the few people that’ll zing a one liner to make my head spin. He was excited to join us for the day and decided to get a jump on the long hike in, we were to catch up with him around the Chimneys.

Shannon and I met and went over a few last minute things before we started the hike in from the Spence Ridge trailhead. In little time we made our way to Table Rock, the Tablehorn, and continued out the trail to the South toward the Chimneys. The miles passed by quickly, and we caught up to Paul just about where we had planned.

Since Paul was going to be with us on this day, I decided to forego using the escape ledge to access the bottom of the climb. Instead, we would rappel in from the top, be able to scope the ice conditions, and then if things looked ok, we could have Paul drop the rope to us.

Finding the top of the route took a little bit of time, but within a try or two I was able to rappel to the edge of the gorge to see the upper pitch... running with water at the lip of a roof.

Even though things weren't as frozen as I would have liked them to be, I knew that I had to go see what the climbing was like. Shannon and I discussed the plan. We agreed to rap in, climb as high as we could with the real possibility that we would have to bail and clamber out of the gorge a different way. But we committed.

We rappeled in over the huge hanging daggers at the top of the cliff, as I rapped down I tested the ice with my boot to make sure that if it snapped off I wouldn't be under it. The end of the rope deposited us near the top of the Pitch 1 belay ledge. With a little scrambling to the left we were comfortably on the ledge.

I asked Shannon if he wanted to lead the Ice pitch but he deferred to me. In such consequential terrain being conservative more times than not will help you to have a long and healthy life.

In very short order I lead out. Having climbed this pitch a week earlier the movement felt familiar. I knew that it was gonna be steep for about 60 feet and then back off for the last half. I placed screws and lead cleanly to the deep left side of the chimney.

There was a large rotten flake of ice that was at the top of the flow, undermined by the water coming out of the mountain. My thoughts about this running water are that it is from a spring and doesn't really ever freeze because it's coming from inside the ground.

Climbing past this on the next pitch would be a real hazard if it were to fall, so I positioned the belay as high and to the left as possible. I found another chockstone to put a sling around and backed that up by driving a knifeblade in a crack up and to the right. It was a tight stance being crammed in the chimney with really only enough space for one person. As Shannon arrived at the belay we had to maneuver tightly to get him anchored in and me back on the sharp end.

*Shannon following the steep ice pitch.*

With the belay situated I began moving the rope up again. Rock climbing with ice axes and crampons can be a really fun way to move over stone in the winter. Instead of using a bare hand to interact with the rock you have a hooked axe to figure out how to interact with the rock. Can I hook a ledge, is there a crack to wedge the pick in, can you torque the shaft of the axe in a slot to gain purchase. This whole process of interaction is repeated with the crampons. It's very cerebral when broken down into individual pieces.

To my delight the climbing was relatively straightforward. I gained a small footledge before approaching the rotten ice curtain and Shannon was able to tether himself even closer to the anchor and further away from harm if the curtain came down.

I was moving well as I came to the dripping water. The tactic in this spot would be to climb as quickly and safely as possible to avoid getting a total bath in the freezing temps, crammed in a chimney. The water was a solid drip coming out of the rock, but mostly concentrated to just a few feet. I placed a solid stopper and made the moves trying to avoid the rotten ice as much as possible. Where the stopper was placed made a great hook and I did just that to move quick in the water. There was only a little balancing on the ice with a foot to move past the water. I was now at the base of an even tighter slot.

After moving the rope though the water Shannon had to let a loop of slack hang in front of him so the water coming down the cord wouldn't drip on him. A real pro move.

At the top of the right arcing roof where the water spilled out a squeeze chimney formed. On one side of the squeeze the rock was dry and mostly devoid of features. On the other side there was a this sheet of verglass on an 80 degree slab. The verglass was only ½’ to ¾’ thick.

With the momentum I had coming through the water I moved up a few feet into the squeeze. My crampons were pasted on a crumbling piece of ice on the right foot and a small dish on the left. My left tool was hooked into a chockstone in the crack far left and the right tool had scratched out a place in the verglas.

The right tool would have been the one to move off of but the amount of purchase I had in the ice was concerning. Trying to enhance the placement would have only compromised the delicate ice further. I was at an impasse. My hands were wet. I was losing momentum. I was scared of taking a fall. I backed out of the chimney with my tool still lodged in the chockstone. I hung on the axe.

At about this same time I backed down I must have touched the rotten flake of ice a little too hard. It happened. The ice underneath me collapsed with a thunder that echoed out of the chimney. As the ice crashed down a piece of it hit Shannon in the shoulder and hand. He was ok, but I can only imagine a little shook up.

Paul called down hearing the crash and asked if we were ok, and if I wanted him to toss a rope down for me to be relieved of my duty. I said “Yes!”

I was sitting there in my harness hanging on an ice axe in the middle of the Linville gorge, wondering what the hell I was gonna do to get out of this one. Anybody that has ever climbed with me knows that I am usually very much in control and don't get too close to the line of what I consider manageable. On this day I almost found the limit.

At the top of the chimney there are curtains of ice with only small windows to where Paul was. He tried to throw the rope to me once, too far right. Tried to throw it to the other side, too far left. The effort to get me the rope was valiant but fruitless. Paul for all that he tried couldn't get the rope down to where I was at.

My hands were cold and wet. I took my wet gloves off and started to rewarm my fingers. I had a dry pair of gloves in my jacket and tried to pull them on. My fingers were too wet, and they were just getting stuck on the fabric lining. Finally, I got my hands dry enough to pull the gloves on. They were tight, and it took a minute to get the fabric and the seams of the gloves into their proper position. With new gloves I was back in business, kinda.

While I hung I scoped out a few more protection placements. A NC climbers favorite, pink tricam, and a chockstone that I could thread a sling around. I took the tool that I wasn't hanging on and made sure the chockstone was well seated in the crack. The constriction around the stone was tight for the sling so I pulled out my v thread tool and used it to make the thread. I felt much better having the bombproof stopper below me, then a pink tricam, and my highest protection point, the chockstone.

After making sure that Shannon was ok, I kept trying to figure out how to get into the squeeze. The hooked axe in the crack was too far left for the balance needed to stand on the marginal feet. Turning to face the other way there were some small foot ledges but using them felt like I was getting too close to the line of falling and felt too committing to use. I put a sling on the chockstone to stand in but again it was too far off line to use for balance.

I was running out of options to move up.

In ice climbing there's a sometimes scoffed at technique where you take the pick of your axe and scratch at the ice to make a placement. A little tappy, a little scratchy until a shelf is created for the pick to rest on. I have never used this technique before in a real situation but had practiced it on the ground. This technique has the added benefit of not destroying delicate ice. Like the verglass in the chimney.

With the one pick placement in the ice from earlier I pulled up on that tool and locked off. Then with the left tool I scratched away at the ice. I scratched a little, and tapped a little. There wasn't very much clearance to swing the tool anyway in the chimney. The left tool was on a small placement in the thin ice. I locked off and moved the right tool, basically campusing my way up these scratched out placements. My feet were behind me and I tried to use them on the back wall with my knees at the lip of the squeeze but they weren't much help. Shannon recalled later just seeing my feet dangle in space. They were all but useless as I campused up the verglass.

Then it happened. I was high enough to get my left foot planted above the roof solidly. I let out a YELL of ELATION!!

Now having my foot planted above the roof I was secure in the chimney. I knew from this point the climbing would be possible, but it wasn't over.

The squeeze was tight, and the ball cap and helmet I was wearing were now more of a hindrance than any kind of help or protection from overhead hazard. Paul finally got the rope down to where I was higher in the chimney. I tied the hat and helmet to the rope and had him pull them out. It was a huge help that relieved me from having to push them in front of me as I climbed up.

A few more difficulties, navigating around a large chockstone and then the curtains at the top.

As I reached the curtains the openings were very small, and the clearance to chop my way out wasn't enough to use the axe. So I made my way to the right where the chimney opened into the gorge. Going this way I only had to chop away a small amount of ice to exit into the clean air.

I made it. I climbed the last 75 feet to reach the rim of the gorge. I was exhausted and can't remember a time when I tried that hard for that long on a pitch. It was well over an hour of effort. I made a belay and pulled the rope for Shannon.

As I sat at the top of the route my head was spinning. I couldn't believe all that had just happened. So much life concentrated into such a small space. A transformative experience that I’m still contemplating what it means and what it will mean for me in the future.

Paul was there to make a hot drink, and Shannon climbed like a hero, dragging our pack through the chimney, but without the drama I had.

We relished the moment. Standing on the rim of the Linville gorge taking it all in. I can't be sure but I think we were all in disbelief a little.

The Slimey WI4+ M5 A1 FA: P1&2 Wes Calkins, Tim Fisher P3: Wes Calkins, Shannon Milsaps January 9 and 15, 2025.

Chasing Winter: The Slimey Part 2

Chasing Winter: The Slimey WI4+/5- M3