We are excited to have Ian Mallams join The Cycling House staff this winter. Ian grew up in Whitefish, Montana and spent his summers scrambling amongst the mountain goats and fending off grizzly bears in Glacier National Park. This mountain lifestyle sculpted him as an avid outdoorsman. In high school Ian ran cross-country and track during the fall and spring respectively and cross-country skied competitively during the winter months. After high school, Ian decided to pursue a career the University of Colorado as a Division I skier. Throughout four years with the Buffaloes, he brought home 2 Team National Championships including one as the team captain his senior year. After college, Ian shifted from ski racing to triathlons and is psyched about his future in the sport. He is looking forward to a winter of cycling and enjoying the Arizona sunshine at The Cycling House. When he is not at the pool, or in the saddle, Ian enjoys mountaineering, camping and whitewater rafting. Needless to say Ian fit the mold to become a Cycling House employee. His Montana ego, positive vibe and inherent sense for adventure made him a perfect fit. Here is a blog post from Ian & professional triathlete Ben Hoffman’s adventure just out of Tucson. Enjoy!
The peak began to visually swell as we hustled along the trail. Baboquivari peak lives juxtaposition to the Mexican border and is of utmost sacred importance to the O’odham Native Americans. During my week off at The Cycling House, fellow triathlete Ben Hoffman and I set on a mountaineering project on the aesthetic icon of the Tucson region, by attempting the 6 pitch 5.6 classic southeast ridge route. We were prepared for a long day hike, which included bringing a light coat, two liters of water each and a small lunch and couple energy bars. Just in case of an emergency, I decided to toss my headlamp into my pack as well…
Baboquivari from the Baboquivari Ranch. The Southeast Arete is the prominent ridge to the right of the shaded wall and the left of the main wall.
The trail kept drifting right along the pretentious east face of Baboquivari and about a half hour into the approach we believed we had missed the climbers trail leading to the southeast saddle. Thus we trampled up through thorny brush and received an strong dosage of mother natures acupuncture by grating our hands, forearms and shins along the sharp leaves of oak shrubs to the saddle.
From this saddle route finding was absolutely hectic. It was an absolute mess of what we thought was incorrect beta as nothing was lining up. Two lichen covered chossy pitches along with two short unplanned rappels off rock fins we arrived at the base of the climb, three hours later than anticipated. The time was 2:15 but we hardly thought twice and roped up for the climb. For the most part the climb was an enjoyable easy fifth class climb but certainly possessed two stifling pitches with committing lay back moves four hundred feet off the deck. These pitches, albeit fairy short worked us time-wise and at 4:30 with two pitches left we had to make a decision. With only and hour and a half of daylight left we needed to choose between rappelling the route or continuing up and over and risk finding the decent route in the dark. Feeling confident and ignorant after a tough lead, summit fever was overpowering and I was motivated to finished the climb. We arrived on the summit at 5:40 and after making an offering to L’itoi, the god of the peak, we began our descent, hurried to find our way before darkness set in.
On the summit of Baboquivari. The smiles were short lived.
Our plan was to descend the apparently straightforward and popular Forbes route. Poor beta and a rushed mindset led us down what turned out to be the completely wrong ravine overgrown with prickly oak shrubs; however, to our luck we found a well used set of rappel slings giving us a huge sense of hope in that we were back on the route, or at least some sort of decent route. At the base of this rappel, to our luck was another set of rappel slings! At this point, we understood we were not on the Forbes route but with another set of slings it only made sense to jump on this rappel and continue down the peak. This rappel was quite long and slightly overhanging and again to our luck there was another sling attached to an oak shrub at the base. Without thinking we set up this rappel and continued down, but this time we were not so lucky…
I began to search to any sort of bolt or sling as I kept close to the end of the rope. With about ten feet left I took myself off rappel and moved around on a small pocket of rock. From here there was a small gully choked full of yet again more oak shrubs that looked as it dropped off into oblivion but it was nearly impossible to see with only a localized headlamp. Ben followed down the rappel using his phone for a light. Mentally and physically weary, our brains were a mess of thoughts. I wanted to look over the edge to see if there was any sign of a ledge further down in which we could rappel to since we were now seriously off-route. We pulled the rope and used a sling to set up a rappel off of one of the shrubs. I slowly weighted the rope and glided downward until the cliff looked as if it was falling out beneath me. There was no way out here and an overwhelming fearful moment set it. I ascended back up the rappel rope to Ben and we both knew we were in for a serious decision making process. I was constantly second guessing myself. When such a situation arrises the brain contemplates all possible solutions. Mother nature gave us only three potential options. The first was to totally commit to a rappel off the east face of the mountain. Our theory was to rappel close to a rope length then place traditional gear as a new anchor and repeat the process to the ground. We axed this plan for numerous reasons. One, if the rappel became free hanging as I predicted it would after my short rappelling adventure, we would not be able to place gear and thus stuck hundreds of feet off the deck on the cliff face. Because, we didn’t know the height of the wall, running out of traditional gear or slings were also disconcerting thoughts. The second option was a attempt a climb back up to the previous rappel anchor. This plan was also deemed unsafe because of the dark and only one headlamp. Option three, we spend the night and wait until morning allowing our minds to rest and make a healthier decision in the light and warmth of the morning. Our best bet for sleeping quarters was a coffin sized flat notch between a small ledge and the main wall. To maximize warmth we removed our shoes and shoved our feet into parallel panels of Ben’s backpack. Due to our lack of preparation(no lighter, no hats, no pants) we scrounged for all possible gear that could provide warmth. We used an Ace bandage from my small first aid kit to wrap our thighs together, then place my backpack on top of that and draped the rope over the top of the pack. For the upper body, Ben had a thin long sleeve capiline with a light wind breaker. I had a micro-puff down coat over a short sleeve dry-fit top. We stacked our bodies sideways placing one shoe each under the hip bone and I used my other shoe as a pillow. The upper end of the nook allowed only space enough for one head. I wedged my head in the gap and Ben used my shoulder for his pillow. We had enough food and water to survive the night but overarching fear that we had descended to a ledge in which we were truly stuck without options to ascend or descend was powerfully scary. This fear along with the persistent cold made for one of the most uncomfortable nights I have experienced. The backpack provided surprising warmth but our moisture wicking running shorts were sensitive to all gusts that swept up the wall. Ben and I shivered together through the elements of the endless night. Moments of sleep were few and far between. My body was too cold to shut down but my brain eventually settled enough to catch a couple dreamy moments. Anticipation of morning never left the forefront of our minds. First light peeked over the edge of the skyline at 6:30 AM. We tiptoed around our little ledge to get our blood moving and warm up. The light provided a sense of confidence and we gathered our thoughts to make a safe decision. We realized we had been close to going off our rockers in thinking we could build rappel stations down the 500 foot face, especially in the middle of the night. Looking up at the wall we discovered a route that looked manageable to climb back up towards the last rappel anchor. From here we scrambled tentatively up steep slabby faces and ledges while simultaneously scouting for rappel slings or bolts; none were found. As we ascended the climb became gradually easier and we spotted a notch that we predicted could lead access back to the original decent route. Lucky enough, it worked out. The notch provided access via two rappels through chossy ravines and steep ledges that brought us to the base of the famous ‘ladder’ pitch and back to the Forbes decent. 
Ben rappels through the loose ravine from the notch.
The knighting on Baboquivari was a tremendously humbling experience and I feel that I have gained valuable knowledge about the human body, all of which creates a stronger individual. Having a partner to share in this experience was crucial to positive thoughts and significantly aided healthy decisions in a time of fear, so thank you Ben. For better or worse, its a memory that will not be forgotten. I’ve taken a couple days in Tucson lying low with short easy rides and swims paralleled to lots of rest and reflection time.
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