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Pickets Traverse – Day 7

We took our time again this morning.  All we had to do today was hike out.  Hiking down the Barrier and finding our way down to Terror Creek was the plan.  We’d abandoned the idea of attempting to make our way through the Barrier, across Terror Basin, and to the trail that Michael and I were on last year when we did West McMillan Spire.

We made our way across slabs then a long section of tedious boulders before ascending steeply to Stump Hollow.  At this point the Chopping Block was right in front of us.  I would have done it had Michael and Aidan been in to it.  Aidan insisted “no”.  He was probably right and both Michael and I conceded.  We decided not to get greedy.  The trip was already hugely successful; we’d just hike out today.

Stump Hollow is a dry and barren area consisting of not much more than slabs and heather.  We were lucky enough, however, to find some melting snow which we thirstily drank.  I should mention at this point that we only had half of our water bottles.  I can’t remember exactly where (I think Mount Fury), but my nozzle on my camel back had popped off and vanished in the rocks.  Later, when descending Mount Fury, I must have inadverdently placed Michael’s water bottle somewhere that I did not notice.  When we needed it; it was nowhere to be found.  So, I hiked out with no water but instead took advantage of streams like the one we found in Stump Hollow.  They were few and far between in this area though.  We entered the trees above the Barrier and eventually found a trail.  We were most thankful.  The Barrier frankly looks impossible to get through at this point; I wouldn’t even bother trying.  Instead, we continued to drop down to the magic number of 3400 feet where we’d start looking for a way down.  We did get off the trail during one section and spent some minutes bushwhacking around.  After a suggestion to get back on the Barrier crest, we headed up and found the trail again.  We continued to follow it down, thankful to be in the trees away from the sweltering sun, although it was still super hot in the forest.  We stopped to took a break and everyone stripped off their shirts to dry out.  We were soaked!  We ate the remainder of our food, mine anyway was finished.  Not long after we started we saw some flagging, then some more over the edge, apparently descending.  Our altimeters were reading high, we later discovered, about 300-400 feet.  They reported 3760 or so.  We decided to chance it and descend.  We rationalized that the flags were placed on the ascent and decided to try it out.  Except for one spot where we lost the trail and later regained it, it was quite followable.  When I say that, I mean “followable” in terms of the Barrier’s reputation and the Pickets in general.  The pine needled slopes were so steep that we opted to put on crampons for the majority of it.  All in all, it wasn’t too bad.  Near the bottom of the valley “U”, we took off crampons and made our way to the thundering sound of Terror Creek, still following a trail.  I was actually quite suprised (and delighted) about how quickly we got down to Terror Creek.

At the creek, we dropped packs and rested.  Aidan ran over to the creek for water as Michael and I chatted.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aidan fall in.  By the time, I was able to make my way around a fallen log to get to him, he’d already gone under, re-emerged, and pulled himself out absolutely soaked.  He cursed himself for picking the spot with the rapids to fetch water when there was a nice placid pool to the left.  At least he didn’t rushed down stream where fallen logs and boulders were waiting, but he was utterly drenched.  While Aidan dried out, I dunked my head a few times in the pool.  Aaaah!!!  So refreshing!  My enthusiasm finally was too much for Michael and, though he is loath to get himself wet, dunked his head satisfyingly into  the water as well.  We slung on our packs (Michael had fashioned garbage sack socks for Aidan) and made our way across the giant fallen tree to the other side where no trail and lots of devil’s club was awaiting us.  The coolness of Terror Creek gave way to more hot sweat as we thrashed through the brush looking for signs of a trail.  There were only faint hints.  Aidan led us up through a section with me following.  Not after too long, another scream of pain came from Michael and, knowing what it was, we all ran through the devils club and other brush nearly tripping down a steep embankment before stopping.  Michael was stung again and we all lay in the brush catching our breath.  We dragged ourselves back up the slopes looking for a reputed climbers trail.  No luck.  We traveled for a while seeing nothing, Michael was low, Aidan was in the middle, and I was high.  After a few minutes, I shouted, “Trail!” and the others excited came up.  We followed the thin climbers trail through muddy gullies and more steep pine needles making our towards Goodell Creek.  We lost the trail a few times and spread out again and rediscovered it.  I was up in front again and the trail suddenly started looking like what I remembered when Michael and I inadverdently followed it partially a year before (we’d missed the turn up to Terror Basin).  Sure enough, I arrived at the flat campsite area where the trail turnoff was.  We were finally at the end of all unknowns and on our way out.

The Goodell Trail seemed to go quickly.  We’d been begging for a long time, “can we just have some simple hiking!?” and finally we could enjoy simple walking.  Aidan and I took the opportunity to jump into Goodell Creek when the trail came within a few feet of the trail.  Michael went on up ahead with my mp3 player (he’d forgotten his).  The water was really cold but it felt so good.  The only downside was the current was pretty strong and the creek bed was “baby head” rocks that were difficult to walk on.  There wasn’t much complaining from us though.  The remainder of the hike out was uneventful except for two events:  One, getting a good look at the massive rock slide on the opposite side of the creek that occurred after the torrential fall and early winter raining.  The other occurred when we rounded another near the creek bank.  There was a section of the shore roped off with odd red flags.  There was someone lying down under a blanket with a wide-eyed stare on him.  Being a bit weirded out, Aidan and I snuck away whispering to ourselves, “Did you see that?  What the heck was that?”  Very strange.  A diverted trail near the end deposited us into Goodell campground which is near where we left Michael’s car.  There were other similar strange folk sitting quietly around these flags.  At least they let us pass in peace.

We met back up with Michael at the car and drove quickly back to Ross Lake trailhead to pick up my car.  Along the way we shouted, hooted, and hollered in our excitement having completed the trip!  Man, what a fantastic feeling.  At the Ross Lake parking lot, I discovered that my car’s battery was mysteriously dead.  I have no idea how this happened.  I didn’t have my lights on and none of the lights were toggled on.  It’s still a mystery.  I approached some other climbers at the other end of the parking lot to ask them for a jump.  It turned out to be the party of five, then four, then three!  Well, that was good luck.  It turned out that’d seen us descending the steep face on Mount Fury.  We, likewise, had seen them ascending east glacier route on Mount Fury.  After my car was started we all headed down to a burger joint in Marblemount.  Michael and Aidan though were set on Mexican by the time we arrived so we just got a snack instead.  I got a blackberry milkshake which hit the spot.  Later on, at this expensive place in Burlington called “El Cazador”, we got our Mexican food.  Unfortunately, it was some of the worst I’d ever had.  Bah, no matter!  Just sitting there enjoying each others company and reminiscing about the trip was enough.  Trip of a lifetime, fellas!

Michael has given this trip the just respect it deserves in a well thought-out and unique web page.  This is way beyond the typical trip report.  Check it out here.

Pickets Traverse – Day 6

Of the three awesome mountains we climbed, I was most eager to climb Mount Terror.  Something about the name, it’s location, and the remote north buttress culminated in interest I’ve had since coming to the Pacific Northwest.  Today was the day.  Another unknown for us was how to get down to McMillan Cirque.  We certainly couldn’t descend straight from Picket Pass since it was typical ridiculous steep terrain.  The opposite side of the pass, however, was quite accessible from Goodell Creek.  We had argued about just where the pass was.  I guess if the definition of a pass is “the way through either side”, then it would have to be a very wide pass.  We had an idea from a photo that I’d taken from the top of McMillan Spire the previous year that we could ascend about 40-60 feet beyond the low point of Picket Pass and make a steep descent down ledges and gullies to McMillan Cirque.  We decided to try it and it ended up going, but not after more interesting terrain at the very bottom that we only could shake our heads and fists at yet again.  We were blocked by a slabby cliffy area and opted to throw the rope around a sturdy tree and rappell down.  I volunteered to go first and got down pretty far, but not the entire way.  We still had some interesting scrambling to get down.  I can’t remember the details of how Aidan and Michael negotiated it, but my technique was to lower my pack so that I wouldn’t have that weight throwning me off.  Indeed it was an easy scramble without that extra weight, but exposed, and we were soon down at the glacial slabs.  We began our traverse under the Mustard Glacier to the base of the north buttress.

Traversing the slabs was awesome.  There were lots of uninterrupted water streams running down the polished slabs that gave the area a distinct zebra effect.  Further beyond we pass by large ice blocks that had recently broken off from the glacier above, some as big as coolers, others were as big as cars.  We got on to the glacier and continued to traverse to the buttress.  There was a distinct snowfield near the bottom of the buttress that we dubbed “the kitty”.  Our plan was to get on to the buttress below it and traverse underneath quickly, then cut back up the face above it.

We had to retrace our steps and downclimb the glacier a bit due to some unreasonably steep ice.  The climb back up to the buttress stepping point was again steep but thankfully made easier by large cups in the snow.  We placed an ice screw to belay Michael from.  It seemed like forever before I was allowed to move (I was in the back), but at least we all got on to the buttress safely.  We quickly switched into rock shoes and packed our boots as compactly as possible.  Aidan took off for the first two pitches.  These two pitches covered enormous amounts of easy ground.  We quickly made our way under and around the kitty snowfield.  The climbing started to become more challenging near the end of the second pitch.  It was also very solid thus adding to the enjoyment.  I took off for the next two pitches.  From here on it, it was all 5th class terrain until we got high on the north buttress where the long thin snowfield cuts laterally below the false summit.  I felt really good leading however on my second lead, I ended up picking a poor route, ignoring an obvious dihedral.  I thought it would go, but the face started to blank out on me and steepen.  Before too long, I was fuddling around not making any progress when Aidan and Michael shouted up that I should either lower off or downclimb.  Well, I wasn’t about to lower off if I could but I certainly didn’t want to continue up.  So, I made a careful downclimb then got into the dihedral which was fun 5.6 climbing.  It felt a little acrobatic to me, but Aidan and Michael made short work of it as I brought them up.  I had made it to the buttress crest.

At this point, Michael took over and led us up increasingly hard terrain.  Some of the books say there is a 3rd class route on this north buttress, but I no longer believe it.  Even if you could find a 3rd class route (you’d have to be an elite routefinder to do so), the exposure is still fierce the whole way.  After long sections of nice white gneiss, the route was starting to darken slowly with lichen and become a little more loose.  Michael led a hard and scary traverse move that he rated 5.8 (much scarier with a full pack).  I was able to bypass it by continuing to lieback a corner up the ridge.

Steep terrain continued on Michael’s second lead.  We left the crest of the buttress and moved back on to the face before ending at an awkward stance before a chimney.  Aidan led up through the chimney.  He soon reached the snowfield that led upward to the false summit.  We didn’t need to touch the snow, but it was nice to know we’d be on 2nd and 3rd class terrain for a while.  Michael and I followed up the fun chimney.

We followed the easy terrain up to a large level area where we took of our packs and casually walked around.  The huge face below had me not desiring any more rock climbing.  It was afternoon by now.  We had been on the buttress for a long time.  It was hard to tell which way to go from here, but Michael spotted a cairn off to the left.  We scrambled around to the left over exposed terrain to an obviously belay station.  Above it was a flaky chimney.  It was my turn to lead so I headed up.  More horns to sling…my favorite.

At the top of the fun chimney, I began traversing and slightly trending upward.  When the rope drag became too difficult, I stopped, slung a horn, and brought Aidan and Michael up.  Michael was anxious to lead again so we let him go.  He ended up leading us up one of the best pitches of the route – A long, continually solid and fun off-width crack.  At the top of this awesome pitch, we arrived at the big blocks underneath the false summit.  The true summit was directly in front of us as well.  But there was no bypassing of the false summit on the left, we had to go up and over it.  There was no point in bypassing on the right since it was a long and gentle slope.

Michael led off again on another fantastic pitch.  Was this one the best?  Hard to say, but it was awesome.  Aidan likened it to Mathis Crest in the Sierras, something I’d like to do someday.  The pitch was basically another solid and fun one, this time a hand traverse of sorts.  Still, at the top of the false summit, I was glad the rock climbing was done.  We down-climbed some 4th class terrain to get on the “standard” west ridge route.  We then dropped our packs and scampered up 3rd and 4th class terrain to the top.  Awesome!  We got climbed all of the mountains we set out to climb.  It was great being on top of the last big mountain with such excellent gentlemen as well.

We couldn’t stay on top long though as the sun was already threatening to drop soon.  We scrambled back down to our packs then down a little further then back up onto the main part of the ridge (I suppose this actually terminates in the false summit) and down to the rappel point.  We threaded the rope through and Michael headed down.  Unfortunately, the rope didn’t reach the entire way (it was a 50m rope) and we had to spend more time devising another rappel that got us down to the horrid gully between Mount Terror and The Rake.

At this point, I’d like to recommend that folks not even bother climbing Mount Terror via the “easy” west ridge route.  The hike in is so long and the climb consists of a wretchedly loose gully and then a relatively loose scramble up to the top.  If you’re going to take the time, do the north buttress.  If you’re not up for the north buttress, do West McMillan Spire instead.  Anyway, back to the story, we delicately made our way down the gully knocking all sorts of rocks down.  About a third of the way down, the route is blocked by a huge chockstone which must be miserable to pass in the opposite direction (another reason to not to climb that route).  We took the rope out AGAIN and rappelled as far as possible down the gully, then slipped and slid our way into Crescent Creek basin.  The late afternoon light was now bathing the basin in orange so we knew our campsite tonight would be on the glacial slabs of Crescent Creek Basin.  The actually campsite was to be near the Chopping Block, not too far away, but too far for today.

Before our last meal of the trip (sniff), Aidan decided to dunk himself in the glacial pool next to our camp.  I’d already put in my feet and hands to wash up and I knew I wanted no part of it.  He quickly waded into the center then slowly sat down as he went into these hilarious convulsions…I still laugh to this day recalling the funny episode.  We enjoyed our last meal (oh man, that mashed potatoe, broccoli, and cheese dish was excellent!) and then turned in.  I teased Michael and Aidan as we went to sleep with each of my shooting star sightings.

Pickets Traverse – Day 5

Sleeping on the summit of Mount Fury was the perfect culmination of the climb.  Both perches, the tent and my ledge, we both small.  Though it wouldn’t have prevented a fall, I did throw my harness around a horn and clipped my daisy chain to my sleeping bag.  It was more just to feel the tug to remind me that I shouldn’t roll any further.  I awoke at first light, a little after 5am, and this time I didn’t roll over and go back to sleep.  Instead, I leaped up with uncharacteristic energy and camera in hand.  The morning was purple with hints of pink.  I quickly scrambled up to the summit and sat to take a few pictures.

No sign from Aidan and Michael yet.  I scrambled back down to my camp and beyond to a small gendarme that afforded even grander views of the peaks to the south, then back up to the summit.  I was just too excited with all the photography possibilities and simply knowing that I was essentially alone on the top of Mount Fury.

I went back to ledge and my sleeping bag around 6:15 or so and slept for another hour.  By then, Michael and Aidan were starting to stir.  Today was to be our rest day.  All we had to do was descend the south side of Mount Fury, over Outrigger Peak, the southeast peak of Mount Fury, and down the ridge to a camp somewhere around Picket Pass.  I originally called for a camp down at Mustard Lake but had drawn in spots on the map for other potential camps.  One was Picket Pass but I was doubtful that water would be there. 

We reluctantly left the summit of Mount Fury a little after nine, I think.  I had scouted the route early in the morning.  We’d have to downclimb talus around two gendarmes, then cut left which would put us on the glacier and then we’d just (most likely) walk down it to the base of Outrigger Peak.  The only spot that was out of view on the descent to the glacier was the one that turned us around and forced us to climb up to a small saddle that led us down steep but easy slopes to the base of the glacier.  There was dripping water here that we tried to take advantage of.  It only gave us a quarter of a cup before we got impatient.  The  glacier was easy hiking until we got to the steep dropoff.  We were holding out hope that it would be just an illusion and we’d end up dropping down 30 degree slopes.  No such luck.  We were at an impasse.

We discussed various options.  We could scout over the edge of the snow to see just how steep the slope was or we could go way around and descend the east glacier.  In the meantime, I roped up and negotiated over an easy moat to another notch at the edge of the glacier.  Maybe we could do some more scrambling on talus to get us down to the southeast peak.  No such luck – there was only steep cliffy terrain featuring terrible rock.  We ruled out descending the east glacier since we couldn’t see how we’d get over to the southeast peak; it might be completely blocked.  So, Michael volunteered to go check out the steep icy slope.  “Let’s do it”, he said.  Through an odd twist of luck, he was wearing Aidan’s boots in an effort to relieve Aidan of his growing blisters (they both wore the same shoe size) and those boots happened to be very stiff – excellent for front pointing.  Neither Aidan or I were particularly keen on front pointing our way down.  So, it worked out.  We set up a belay and lowered Aidan who placed pickets and ice screws on the way down.  I followed and clipped them in.  Michael then downclimbed on a belay to the base where Aidan and I were waiting.  We repeated this two more times until we were down.

At the base, tiny cuts of water streaked through the ice and we took the time to rest and drink our fill here.  We actually had one more downclimb on a secondary slope followed by another section of free downclimbing, thankfully less steep, that got us onto a more gentle part of the glacier and we were able to follow gentle slopes to the a headwall of snow which we climbed to get back on to talus.  From here, we scrambled our way along a ledge system to a right hand ridge on Outrigger Peak which we followed to the summit.  From the summit, we started to descend a more prominent ridge on the same side which would lead us to Picket Pass.

As we looked back on Mount Fury, we realized that we could have descended the East Glacier and hooked back up with Outrigger Peak.  It certainly would have saved time and stress.  We were all a little stressed as we made our way down the easy ridge to Picket Pass.  Along the way, we had to take the rope out twice.  Once for a rappel and once for a very exposed section of thin 4th class ridge.  Aidan could only shake his head incredulously and occasionally laugh, “Could we expect anything less from the Pickets?”  Well, at least the views were among the best we’d ever seen.

So much for the “rest” day.  We plodded doggedly along finally approaching the pass.  I could see a snowbank at the pass.  Maybe there would be water!  I excitedly dropped my pack and went to inspect the snow.  There was water!  Someone had kindly built a tiny dam which formed a pool of snowmelt.  Finally, we were at our camp.  We only had a couple of hours of daylight to enjoy though.  It sure would have been nice to have arrived here at perhaps noon, but it was still most welcomed.  Aidan and I went and cleaned up in sun-warmed pools a little above the pass.  Afterwards, I wandered a few times back down to the dammed pool of drinking water since it afforded views from the base of McMillan Cirque and Mustard Lake all the way up to the tips of the peaks.  Of all the cirques and valleys I’d seen on this trip, this one hyptnotized me the most.  It looked so deep, so far removed from civilization.  I’m sure it has only been tread a few times and those who have would never wish to do so again.  I almost half expected to see some kind of prehistoric dinosaur raise its head out of the dense brush.  I broke out of my reverie and headed up for dinner.

I found a nice soft spot near the tent to sleep.  I couldn’t believe the luck that we had in planning the dates for this trip.  We had clear skies every day and night and there were zero bugs.  I was most grateful for no bugs.  I remembered how Michael and I got dive bombed by hoards of mosquitos on Mount Stuart.  Thankfully there was none of that.  I was tasked again with getting everyone up at first light.  Two big mountains down, one more to go.  We were only two days away from the end of the trip.  The days were flying by.