Cody Ice in Wild, Windy Wyoming

Guest blog by Rob Griz.

Cody is a bit of a stretch from Frisco CO, but I heard good things about the pure ice lines that lace the hills of the South Fork valley. All of my drives through Wyoming have been an adventure. Passing through towns like Douglass, claiming to be the “Original home of the Jackalope” is fun enough, but looking up above town’s highest hill and seeing the two-story cut-out of a Jackalope is something you need to experience in person.

Drifting through the core of the state, antelope litter the landscape and big birds of prey dot the endless sky. Miles of barbed wire chase the road, sometimes trapping plastic bags or newspapers that flutter like Tibetan prayer flags in the wild Wyoming winds.
My travels take me through new places, most notably the Wind River Canyon. A beautiful gorge cut by the now dammed Wind River. Like a lesson in geology I tunnel through granite and flamingo pink streaks of pegmatite before hitting all eras of sandstones marked by the roadside signs. To my surprise there were a few choice ice lines that managed to form up in the canyon, mental note to self for the return trek home!

I bet an ol’ Iowa farm boy never thought he would stake claim to a town so close to such excellent ice climbing. Then again my guess is that he never went there to climb ice. Over a hundred years later, the Big Horn Basin encompassing the South Fork of the Shoshone River is a paradise…for wild game and wild climbers alike.

Never have I been outside a park boundary and observed a place teeming with so much wildlife. Each day as we ventured into the sweeping valley of the South Fork, at prime dawn/dusk viewing time, we passed herds of deer, groups of elk, a handful of bald eagles, a few coyotes, red fox and a flock of Chuckars. Of course each day we were greeted and subsequently heckled by the local ravens, who ruled these chossy canyons and precipitous cliff we wandered through. Yeah, this place is paradise for man and animal alike. I couldn’t help but laugh at the number of mule deer that far outnumbered the head of cattle grazing the valley floor. Are they a competitive species? All I can attest to is that they are a docile and somewhat arrogant group of critters. They own this valley and it shows in the way they saunter in front of my truck, paying no attention to the critter-crushing bumper that adorns the front of my rig. Seems that they carry the Spirit of the Ghost Dance with them, a proud invincibility.

I’m here with one good old friend, Tommy, and two new, all of us here with one intention, to have a blast on the South Fork secrets. We quickly establish a morning ritual of a 5:30 am rise from the bunks of Wild Bill’s Bunkhouse and fuel up for the day. Not long and we’re packed in the Tundra heading southwest outta town under cover of a starry sky. The morning glow gives just enough light to navigate through the ‘Blacktail’ brigade crossing the dirt road. The rubber rolls a bit slower and we scope out our pull-off for the Legg Creek Drainage. Tommy has been here before but he’s got one thing on his mind, Ovisight (Rough translation: Sheep sighting), a 3 pitch Grade WI5/6 route. Like a bunch of recon soldiers, we dump out of the truck and ramble across the rocky valley floor to the wide outflow of the Legg Creek drainage.

I’ve gotta say that I’ve experienced some interesting things in my day, but to be walking amidst cactus to get to an ice climb was a novel thing for me. Yeah, cactus, and plenty of them span the valley floor.

The rocky fan of gravel and boulder soon gives way to an icy ribbon so easily walked upon. This is our ‘white carpet’ that will guide us to the upper reaches of these convoluted canyons. It’s not long and we are faced with the only way into the upper canyon, a severely deteriorated WI3+ that stands between us and an incredible day above. We had glassed this from the road, and it looked a bit questionable, but the only way we’d know for sure is to have a closer look. Tommy and I rope up and decide to simul-lead the skinny line. Johnny Cash comes to mind as I recite “I walk the line”, Tommy and I each respectively tapping our way above running waters. Through the first approach pitch and life is grand, 3 WI5/6 pitches stood proud above us, its gonna be a good day.

A nice jaunt up Legg Creek and you need to hook a left to pick up the Ovisight lines. Pitch one was great and quite a bit easier than the WI6 condition it could form into. Tommy and I would continue to simul-lead with friends Bob and Tim enjoying the route. Pitch 2 saw a rarely formed ‘needle’ of ice that drew me like a moth to a flame. A nice 25 meters of super-thin ice with a contact point being less than 12” was my line of passage. Probably the closest thing to WI6 I’d see that day. Tommy hammered out a sweet, steep wall of ice next to me, chatting the whole time up.

Pitch 3 was a monster of a flow. Super-fat, super-wide and super-long. Rocking on up this beast of an ice flow, I had to laugh at the exit, only big enough for one climber at a time. The joy of Cody ice! Ovisight, Tommy’s number one hit, was put down in style. He couldn’t have picked a better line and better day to hit it, as part of the Legg Creek approach pitch (the only access to the upper ice) collapsed in the mid-day sun. Beers went up to Tom that night and the Spirits continued to stay with us.

Day 2 saw another pre-dawn start, this time we were gunning for the Triptych Pillar drainage. The wide outwash soon necked down and offered us a cruiser approach on gentle, snow covered ice. Turning corners in Cody is half the fun, you never know what you’ll find and the whole experience takes on an adventurous feel. Hostile Takeover/Makeover, in an emaciated WI5 R state, was pasted on the proud headwall looming above. Just the heady lead I was looking for. We motored up to the base where the most interesting of anchors resided, a 3/8” drilled “V-thread” in the rock. Given the quality of the rock I guess it makes some sense?! Looking above, there wasn’t much for gear and due to its protected location; the veneer of ice was relatively brittle, not so fun. The lone bolt was my best piece of gear, as I bottomed out stubbies that only made it half-way in, purely mental pro. Higher up the ice bulked out a bit and the climbing became less tenuous. We ran the second pitch ‘just because it was there’ and were treated to another wandering slot canyon of ice.

This being the warm-up, we proceeded up into the Triptych drainage which is deceivingly narrow. It blows my mind that such a constriction lays passage to such a huge drainage. We reached the three pillars after passing a most unusual rap anchor, a mashed out hanger with a partially sheared nut and a solitary sneaker dangling from some 7mm Perlon. We ran some laps on the triad, with the partly-formed left line being the most exciting. Steep ice to a rock traverse and up under a blown-out curtain. A bit contrived but challenging none the less. Another day of classic ice.

Day 3 was like all the rest, this time up the Broken Hearts drainage. With my heart set on the Carotid Artery, we motored up seemingly endless WI3 ice to the impressive amphitheatre. I sat and I stared, a full 25m of free-hanging ice above a small hummock, running like tsunami rains. It looked so good, so right, so I had to have a shot. Stripping down to a spare underlayer, I attempted to take on the torrent. The ice so frail and new and water so cold, I was shut down. All of the hooks I attempted at sheared except for one that allowed me to hoist myself off the cone for a mere 15 seconds. Thoughts of sensibility fortunately filled my head before the grip of hypothermia. Breaking yourself up here could prove epic, I deferred to my non-Polish side and walked away.

All fun was not lost though, I ran up My Valentine only to discover a rare stonker 6th pitch of WI5+, 70m of pure vertical bliss. I had to have her, and with that soon found the 7th pitch only half-way down. With a front bearing down on us and my chilled state, we rapped the big ice and proceeded to downclimb the rest of the drainage.

Three days, three classics. The energy of the South Fork is unique. As a guest you soon learn that this place belongs to the elements and the animals. Visiting here is an honor and a humble respect keeps you hungry for more. You can bet I’ll be back. Oh…and the Wind River Canyon, it may not be a destination in itself but offered a nice diversion to solo some steep ice.

This is Rob’s second guest blog for SplitterChoss.com. He previously wrote about his adventures climbing ice in Rifle. He’s hoping winter never ends so he can keep chasing these ephemeral lines of frozen water.