Photo TR: Black Peak

Date Climbed: September 12, 2015

RT Stats: 14 miles, 4550 ft vertical gain, 11 hours (5 hours trailhead to summit; 45 minutes for route finding)

Early morning mist

Frost at Heather Pass

Colors starting to change at Lewis Lake

Looking back at Lewis Lake from just below Wing Lake

Clouds clearing ... kinda ... sorta ... not really 

The peak was socked in for most of the approach. Looking up toward the col.

Looking back during a moment of clarity

The final scramble up to the col, just right of the snow

I got off-route and climbed up some slightly sketchy 4th class rock here.

"This is really going to suck coming down," is probably not the best thought to be having repeatedly when solo and climbing on shitty, wet rock.

First dusting of snow in the North Cascades

Looking back at the route up from the col from just below the summit.

Lewis Lake and Wing Lake from the summit

Undrinking the Paleo and CrossFit Koolaid

I wanted the Paleo Diet to work. From a perspective based on evolutionary science, it makes sense. As a solution to a lot of the endocrine disorders that have run rampant in American society due to our overconsumption of refined sugar and processed vegetable oils combined with our generally sedentary lifestyles, the Paleo Diet makes sense. I wanted it to be the solution -- the ticket to lower levels of body fat and improved athletic performance.

But the king of scientific data -- empirical observations -- suggests otherwise. For the past two years, I've pretty much eaten whatever I wanted at the time and haven't followed any specific dietary regime, and I'm leaner and fitter than I've ever been. I'm 128 lbs and 18.5% body fat -- down from around 22-24% when I was eating Paleo. I can do five pull-ups, hike 3500 vertical feet per hour (at sea level), deadlift 160 lbs, and military press 75 lbs.

I cut out 90% of grains and refined sugars from my diet for the better part of three and a half years (February 2009 through December 2012). Throughout that entire time period, the changes in my fitness levels and body composition came almost exclusively from physical activity. In general, I was hovering around 23% body fat and weighed between 135 and 145 lbs. I slimmed down to about 130 during Field Camp (for those non-geologists, Field Camp basically involves spending a month hiking around and making geologic maps of an area), and then again during/after my expedition to Aconcagua. Overall, though, nothing changed dramatically.

After I got back from Aconcagua, graduate school happened and I pretty much just ate whatever was convenient. I didn't regain much of the weight I lost on that trip -- probably because I forced myself to work out for at least an hour, five days a week, to deal with the stress of writing my MS thesis. 

I reached an all-time low of 127 lbs in the summer of 2014 (and I've been within 5 lbs of that ever since), and my speed in the mountains improved dramatically. 

I don't know what the missing puzzle piece is, or if it was just one thing. But I do know that my endurance levels have skyrocketed. I don't struggle to keep up with people in the mountains anymore -- I'm kicking everyone else's ass. 

What I'm doing now works, so I'm going to keep doing it.

Empirically, the two things that seem to be the key to getting leaner, and doing it quickly are:

1) Physical Activity. This is likely equally physical and mental -- if I've had a bad day at work, hitting the stair master or throwing some weights around in the gym clears my head. Reduced stress leads to reduced levels of cortisol and... you get the picture.

2) Cutting back on the booze. I love beer, and I love having friends who I actually want to go grab a beer with. I love experimenting with cocktail recipes, making liquor infusions, and trying different whiskies. Craft breweries and craft distilleries are a part of Seattle's culture. But beer and liquor have a lot of calories, and studies have shown that giving up booze for a month leads to a dramatic reduction in liver fat, which, in turn, helps the body metabolize nutrients more efficiently. Overall, as cliche as it sounds, moderation is the key. 

Totally non-paleo post-workout meal: angel hair pasta with spinach, mushrooms,

grape tomatoes, and chicken sautéed in pesto sauce and topped with parmesan cheese.

I'm not sure what was inherently appealing about the Paleo Diet, aside from the link to evolutionary science. Perhaps it was the fact that it refuted the mainstream and pseudo-scientific claim that a vegetarian diet was inherently healthier than one that included meat. Perhaps is was the fact that it seemed to be adopted by athletes like powerlifters and MMA fighters, whereas the low-fat/vegetarian diets seemed to be more commonly associated with the women in color-coordinated workout outfits who read Shape magazine on the elliptical and then wave around pink 5lb dumbbells randomly and call that a workout.

As for CrossFit -- well, I started doing CrossFit because I was eating Paleo. They don't call it a "lifestyle" for nothing -- but that's true of any sport. If you want to excel at what you do -- whether that's cycling, olympic weightlifting, martial arts, hockey, or mountaineering -- you have to tweak your training regimen for your specific goals, and you have to have a diet that fits that training regimen.

While I don't follow the Paleo Diet anymore, or do CrossFit, both of those things were still beneficial for me. 
1. I think certain endocrine functions were probably improved by the extended periods of time I spent eating less than 100g of carbohydrates a day, and by cutting sugar out.
2. I have a fat-adapted metabolism. Even though carbohydrates provide a lot of quick energy and are more easily digested at high-altitude, being able to use fat as a fuel is crucial in any endurance sport, especially mountaineering.
3. I understand the importance of good form when lifting.
4. I spend more time in the gym doing dynamic lifts instead of isolation exercises. Looking muscular is great and all, but being able to back up that look with actual abilities is better.

The Paleo Diet works for a lot of people -- I'm not denying that. I even have family members who have halted and reversed pre-diabetic endocrine conditions by eating low-carb, mostly Paleo diets. It just doesn't work for me. As a scientist, the only way I can figure out what works is by experimenting. 

Fortune Favors The Bold

Every climber's path passes a few milestones as they grow and evolve as people with a passion for rugged, wild places. Whether that journey takes them from an icy bunny hill to glaciers and steep couloirs, from their first "14er" to one of the Seven Summits, from the climbing gym to Fitz Roy, or becomes a journey of passing that passion on to their kids, these milestones are often a chance to reflect on who we have become -- about how climbing has changed our lives and made us who we are.

I don't remember where exactly I first heard the phrase "Fortune Favors The Bold" -- a proverb that traces its origins back to Virgil and The Aeneid -- but it resonated with me. It's what I try to tell myself every time I do something that scares me. And I haven't regretted any of the things that I've done that scared me. Usually, I was glad I took the chance and did them. 

Fortune Peak, a relatively obscure mountain in the Teanaway Forest of central Washington, seemed a good choice for my 100th summit. Not that climbing 100 unique mountains makes me any different than climbing 99 mountains, or 101 mountains, but to me it was symbolic of how far I've come as a climber over the past 8 years. Either way, I wanted my 100th summit to be something special. According to some recent beta, Fortune Peak was skiable, and easily doable in a day trip from Seattle, so I went for it.

I left Seattle around 07:00, and, after a momentary traffic jam in the omni-construction-zone of I-90, I cruised over Snoqualmie Pass to Cle Elum, then up about 20 miles of dirt roads (easily navigable thanks to Google Earth) to the trailhead. I chatted with some climbers heading for Mt. Stuart and started up the trail to Ingalls Pass about 10am.

After about 40 minutes of hiking, the trail disappeared under the snow, and I continued cross-country up through the trees. I met a woman hiking with her boyfriend (both probably in their 40's) and exchanged friendly "hello's," which somehow led to one of us making a comment about being Colorado, which led her to persist in telling me her life story for the next hour or so as we hiked across the snowfield.

The Teanaway Wilderness

They split off towards Ingalls Pass, and I cut across some rock bands leading in the direction of Fortune Peak. The terrain was roughly split between rock and snow, so I didn't bother to start skinning until I saw a relatively long, consistent snow slope leading up towards the ridge.

I put on my skis/board (I'm really curious as to the proper term to use when in touring mode) and started up the snow slope. I was instantly in heaven. Aside from the fact that I was no longer postholing with a snowboard on my back, there's something incredibly calming about skinning up a slope. I bought my splitboard, ironically, the year that winter never came (screw you, House Stark), but after my first day out -- New Years Day in Mount Rainier National Park -- I was hooked, and knew that snowboard touring would become a big part of my mountaineering life.

Fortune Peak in the distance on the left from just below the ridge

After about half an hour or so, I came to a point above a small bowl and just below the rocky spine of the east ridge. This part was mostly enjoyable class 2 scrambling, with maybe a couple of class 3 moves. Even though I wished I wasn't carrying my board, it was still fun.

Above the rocky ridge, I put my skis/board back on and skinned up the final 300-400 vertical feet to the summit. I reached the summit just before 14:00. I dug the beer out of my pack that I'd brought to celebrate and shoved it in the snow while I took some photos and transitioned.

It was a perfect bluebird day. A gentle breeze sent chills down my sweat-soaked back as I sat on my pack and enjoyed my celebratory Belgian Pale Ale and the views of the jagged black peaks adorned with sporadically crisscrossing lines of white-blue snow. Mount Rainier stood proudly in the distance, thinly veiled behind the faint afternoon haze.

Summit beer with South Ingalls (left) and Mt. Stuart (right) in the background

The descent started easily enough. I followed the mellow slope down the ridge, skirted the snow past the rocky outcrops on the rim of the bowl, and then embarked on about two minutes of pure transcendent ecstasy, carving down the soft snow. The slope mellowed out as I reached the bottom of the south face, and I rode it as long as I could, dodging trees and shrubs poking out. 

I still had a ways to bushwhack out through the forest, vaguely aiming for the Esmeralda Trail. I wasn't exactly sure where it was, as I'd never been to this area before, but I was confident I could get back to the trailhead. Still riding that euphoric high from the awesome turns I'd just made, the bushwacking didn't bother me.

One of the many streams in the Esmerelda Basin drainage network

Four years ago, the idea of being in the wilderness without an obvious trail or route description to follow would have been intimidating. I'm not sure what I was afraid of. Maybe the overly-cautious attitude prevalent on 14ers.com got to me. But after hiking all over the mountains surrounding the Gunnison Valley in Field Camp and a summer of trudging through the dense Northwestern forests fighting wildfires, I'm pretty confident in my ability to navigate the backcountry and get where I need to be.

And, just like that, I ran right into the Esmerelda trail about 1/4 of a mile from the parking lot.

The icing on the cake of the snowboard tour to the summit of my 100th mountain waited for me at my car. After the sweet relief of taking off my pack for the last time and changing from soft-shell pants and snowboard boots into shorts and Chacos, just as I was ready to head out, I found a note left on my car.

Spoiler alert: I didn't call the guy. Not that I wouldn't have, but at that point I just wanted to head back to Seattle and have a nice quiet evening. It made me laugh, and I really did think about it for a second. I get it. Guys think solo female backcountry snowboarders are hot.

This isn't the first time that I've been hit on (kind of?) for being a woman who doesn't give a fuck, who just does what she wants to do and lives how she wants to live. But I try not to think too much about it. I just live my life. I don't have many regrets.

View from the summit of Fortune Peak

I don't believe in fate. But I think that you have to be willing to take risks, to venture into the unknown, to be able to find whatever it is that you want in life. Fortune favors the bold.