After a quiet night out on the ridge, I slowly pushed my head out of the bag to see that the sun was coming up. I sat up a little to see Aidan waking up as well. I grabbed the camera and took a couple of shots. Only a few seconds later, the sun popped over the mountains and started heating up our alpine pad. After a leisurely breakfast, we strapped on the ‘pons and headed down the snow slopes. At a small crevasse, we started turning up the steep snow. There were tracks to follow. Not that it made much difference, but at least we didn’t have to put in the complete effort of kicking new steps. The snow was easy and was great to get us back on the ridge in a short amount of time. From here, it was 3rd and 4th class ridge running on the crest for a half mile at least.
At another gendarme, the climbing steepened and the exposure increased. We opted to rope up here and simul-climb to the base of the West Ridge of Forbidden. Beyond 80 feet of the difficulties, most of the climbing was again 4th class. I was leading and, trying to stay on the ridge crest, I led us up and over another gendarme. The downclimbing was quite tricky and I slowed down quite a bit to find the best route and to protect well for my buds. I kept thinking that it wouldn’t get any harder, but it did. But, I could see the base of the ridge where we needed to be, so I persisted. In retrospect, it would have been easier to just retreat and find an easier way down (both Robert and Aidan eagerly pointed out there was one!). Oh well, we all got down safely after a couple of alpine 5.8 downclimb moves.
Some easy scrambling got us to the base of the West Ridge where folks had left packs, boots, and the like. Aidan opted to take the next lead on the understanding that I’d get to take the second! He zipped up the mountain making very fast progress. After a little more than 15 minutes, we were nearly halfway up where he stopped and we swung the lead. We were just below the 5.6 move and there was another party just above it. “You’re a southern gentleman, Theron. They’ll let you pass.”, quipped Aidan. Yeah, ok. So, I headed off. Now, apparently there were a couple of pins that I was supposed to see, but instead, the step was so fun and I thought it would look neat on film that my only thought was, “Hey Robert, get some footage of this!”. I climbed up a steep traversing crack to the left, placed a solid cam, and pulled around the corner where I saw a big rappel anchor. The other party had gone on the move again, apparently it was a guided party. The guide would go about 50-100 feet and then belay the clients in. I tried to find a place to pass, but I couldn’t really. When I caught up to them again, there was another party descending and we were simply forced to hang out on the ridge for a while. Finally, we were on the move again, but I still couldn’t pass. Then, the party opted to go up to what looked like the true summit. Robert then hollered, “Hey, go left!” So, I traversed around the steep false summit to the spot where all the pictures are taken, just below the true summit. A couple of easy moves saw us at the true summit.
Our descent decision was down the east ledges. That way we’d get a full tour of Forbidden and could also avoid the crowds on the West Ridge. I’ve heard all sorts of rumors about the east ledges descent route, that’s it’s really scary and exposed and so on. Then again, I’ve also heard that it’s not that bad. So, after doing it, my opinion is it’s no big deal at all. I had the benefit of being with two people who had already descended this way. But still, it’s pretty straightforward. We had to make five, maybe six, rappels straight down. We had a 50m rope and the first rappel sent us straight to the next rappel station. However, all of them after that required a little downclimbing. Robert hypothesized that they must have been recently reset because the beta we had talked about a 50m rope being enough. No matter, the downclimbing was always only 4th class. At the base of the last rappel, we headed straight across crossing various ribs. About 100 feet below the solitary gendarme, we headed up alongside a prominent gully. There was no reason to get in the gully; it was much cleaner climbing above it. At the top, we were finally back on walkable terrain where we put up our gear, harnesses, and rope.
The descent back to the upper camps was time consuming but easy. We did have to retrace our steps once when we boot skiied too far down and got cliffed out. Downclimbing another steep ridge saw us to more snow where we were able to boot ski down to the basin. After lots of traversing and descending on slabs, we arrived back at the stream under the waterfall where we had breaked the day before. We rested here for a long time, our friends the horseflies were back in force. Aidan and I dunked our feet and heads in the water -- what a relief! Everyone then put on mp3 players and hiked down. The hike down at first was pleasant and I gawked at the views of Johannesburg directly in front of us. Man, I can’t believe I was on that thing last year! Boston Basin is truly one of the most beautiful spots in the Cascades. It was a treat to see it in full sunlight. However, down lower, I’d be cursing that sunlight! The black flies came back again and started harassing us. On top of that, it was so abysmally hot! I wondered if I’d ever been this hot before. It was nearly impossible to stop though as the flies would swarm and nearly eat us alive. Thankfully, this approach is an “easy” Cascades approach and we were back at the car after not much time. But, changing clothes and sorting gear was hell with those damn black flies not giving us a moment of peace. What a great trip this was…I couldn’t think of that at the time though. It didn’t come soon enough that we were in the car with the windows open trying to get every last fly out!
Posted 4 years, 12 months ago at 2:24 am. Add a comment
Since I’ve wanted to climb Forbidden Peak for so long, it was only fitting to do it the best way: the Torment-Forbidden Traverse. This was a classic alpine climb and gave Robert, Aidan, and I all we wanted – a beautiful alpine setting, a challenging and committing ridge, and fun moderate climbing. We left Seattle around 6:45 or so and hit the trail a little after 10. It was pretty cool when we started, but it wouldn’t last. These late July afternoons are HOT, as Michael and I discovered one year ago on Johannesburg. We blasted up the trail though. The avalanche crossing is getting substantially easier by the year and it hardly cost us any extra time. Deep in the forest, the black flies starting hitting us pretty hard. Aidan and I both got stung by some sort of wasp. “It was probably a stick,” suggested Robert. A stick? Well, after Michael’s lesson in the Pickets, we broke out the Benedryl to deal with the swelling.
At an hour and forty five minutes we were at the upper camps in Boston Basin. The black flies had left us but the horseflies picked up where they left off. We took a comfortable break on a slab next to a waterfall where we drank our fill and killed maybe 50 horseflies. We then traversed around a prominent rib coming off the ridge at it’s bass where we arrived at another section of slabs and waterfalls. Third class climbing got us easily to the base of the western part of the Taboo Glacier. At first, the crossing looked easy and we jumped on the glacier without crampons. However, higher up, it looked like access to the peak was blocked by a massive bergeshrund. At the far end though, we were able to jump on 4th class slabs that gave us access to the glacier above the shrund. From there we went back in the opposite side to the prominent notch where we’d start the climb.
Probably the hardest rock pitch was the very first one, the first 20 15 feet of getting out of the notch. It was probably much easier in normal snow years when the notch had snow in it…maybe not. Anyway, Robert led out over the steep crack up to the normal place where we roped up. The first pitch climbed an easy dihedral up to the south ridge. For the most part, we were just to the left of the ridge and the climbing never got harder than 5.0. Most of it was 4th class and we did the whole thing in one pitch. Robert went a little far up to the east ridge and got into some loose rock and had to downclimb. From here though, it was easy to just drop our packs and scamper up to the summit where we shook hands, took a short rest, and surveyed the rest of the route.
The next goal was to get to the next notch at the beginning of the ridge. We had to make some careful downclimbs down the south face and traverse along ledges to the notch. I arrived at the notch and surveyed the next section; it looked tough. Well, to follow the ridge directly would be some unreasonably hard climbing. There was snow about 60 feet below, but separated by a large moat from the cliff. Aidan looked a little green after checking out our options. Robert decided to rappel down to the snow and had to make some awkward moves to push himself onto the snow. Aidan and followed and we helped each other across the moat. At this point, the only option was to follow the snow along the moat down some semi-hero slopes to where we could regain the rock. From there, it looked like more easy, if not loose, 5th class climbing. Robert opted to lead out again and slowly made his way down the snow. Aidan and I followed, Aidan being tied in about 15 feet in front of me. For the most part, the downclimbing was easy, just awkward and loose in spots, but it did eat up lots of time. Robert did a great job of picking the best route to get on the rock. Finally, we were off again on the rock. This time we were traversing left around another huge gendarme. When Robert crossed the crest, he yelled, “Bivies!”. Alright! We now could rest; it was about 8:30pm.
The bivy location was awesome – nice and cozy on a moderate cliff with great views of the remainder of the traverse. They were just big enough to hold three people. There’s room for a fourth about 30 feet below on some sloping slabs. The steep snow traverse was just beyond the bivies. From there, we could see that we’d be back on the crest of the ridge. Enough of worrying about tomorrow though, we sat back and enjoyed the views, the food, and the company and turned in shortly after sunset.
This was an axe kicker! When I go climbing with Robert or Michael, I hardly ever suggest the climb. I’m always up for whatever they want to do because it’s all new to me. Redoubt, however, was one I suggested it a few times to both Robert and Michael. It looked to have all the things that I liked in a mountain climb: a remote location, a challenging route, and a cool approach. I was especially interested in the approach because, being a big fans of waterfalls, we had to pass in front of one of the biggest falls in the Cascades, Depot Creek Falls.
However, the three of us were worried about the route. The Northeast Face is not in shape for very long and this year had been a particularly low snow year, which probably meant that the route was inaccessible due to bergeshrunds. However, we heard a rumor that the snow problem was mostly limited to Washington, and the Canadian peaks had a more normal snow year. With Redoubt being just south of the border, we decided to take advantage of the nice weekend and go for it. We also took an additional day of vacation since most everyone suggests doing it in three days (a good idea).
We left Seattle haphazardly, around 10am, and crossed the border where a surly border agent made us laugh at how seriously he took himself. The final part of the road to the trailhead was pretty rough for a Cascades road, though merely average for a Colorado road. The first part of the hike required moving along a system of logging roads, which featured a short rocky stretch, then a turn left up a short old growth section, then a turn right and a two mile hike through a formerly logged area with lots of intrusive brush. We were just coming off of some foul weather and, while the leaves on the earlier trails were dry, these were pretty wet and we naturally got wet. Finally, we broke out of industrial Canada into the old growth forests of the US which was marked with a miniature Washington monument marking the trail. Michael sang a stirring rendition of “God Bless America”.
The trail up through the dark Depot Creek valley was pretty good. There were a few windfalls to negotiate on the knees. After a while, it started to drag. Man, when were we getting to these falls? I think we were sandbagged by a climber who said it took them 3 hours to get to the top of the falls (we wouldn’t make that time). We passed a party after a long amount of time who informed us that the falls were still an hour and a half away. They were pretty accurate. Finally, the trail started working up steeply and I could see the white of the falls in the distance. The rumblings got louder and we emerged into a section of the trail that went through dense slide alder. We all paused here looking quite spent already and we still had another 1000 feet very steeply up to get to the top of the falls. The trail continued up, partially moving through the creek along more slide alder.
Finally, we were at the infamous slab crossing in front of the base of the massive falls. The rope used to get up to the top of the slabs made it a lot easier. The slabs, though, felt like ice, especially in plastic boots. I had to move very carefully to ensure that I had either solid hand hold or solid foot holds while being blasted by icy spray from the falls. It was hard to be patient, but we all chose cold and wet over a potential slip. Above the crossing, the trail steeply climbed up alongside the falls. This majority of the falls is a straight shot down a steep granite slide that bends right at the end. Because of the bend, you can’t see the complete falls from the ground. The trail though follows literally just to the left of the waterslide for hundreds of feet. We arrived at a talus field where we had a view of the upper falls which was the prettiest part of the falls – a 2-300 foot straight drop from the basin above.
More steep climbing up treacherous talus saw us at the basin, finally. Both Robert and I were behind Michael a few minutes. I burned a lot of time filming and photographing the falls. Unfortunately, I didn’t get any video of the lower falls because it was just too wet and my camera refused to work. At the top of the basin, Michael pranced across the trail with an eerie childlike laugh. He had some weird blond wig on his head…what? He was doing a fabulous impression of the child Mordred from “Excalibur” (the wig was a greenish long moss hanging from the trees). I had to throw my pack down and start laughing despite my exhaustion. Then he pointed up – Mount Redoubt! Dang, it looked scary. The clouds swirled around the summit and the route, periodically hiding both. The Northeast Face, being accentuated by the mystical clouds, looked super steep.
After checking the beta, we opted to go higher to Lake Ouzel and camp there. We rationalized that while it was longer, it would be easier to descend the mountain. We cut across the basin, through semi-marshy ground to the opposite side along talus. Beyond a short forested section, we had at least a half mile moraine to hike up. We were already tired and the moraine only lengthened the suffering. Finally, we were standing above the lake. I settled on a spot along the shore that required crossing a couple of deep streams. With some grumbling, the fellas finally arrived.
Ouzel Lake is a desolate spot. The lake is filled with glacial silt and there’s not much around the lake other than sand and soft mud with short grass. We didn’t see any wildlife. Anyway, from here we could see where we needed to go the following day.
We got up the following morning around 4:30 or so and were off pretty quickly. We had to hike around the lake and started up the slopes leading to glacial slabs underneath the Redoubt glacier. We crossed through a prominent ridge at a notch and started ascending to the Depot Glacier. Michael was feeling spunky and was consistently in front of Robert and I (we were pretty short on prior training and exercise). We roped up and started laterally across the middle part of the glacier. From below, the glacier looked quite broken, but it went pretty easily. Higher up would have been even easier. After a couple of short steep sections, we arrived at the base of the snow apron. Michael found a nice belay station in a ’shrund.
Michael set off for the first pitch eager to see what the snow was like. It turned out to be great for kick stepping with solid ice axe placements. The neat thing about this route is that the angle is consistently 50-55 degrees and is virtually never any lower. The exposure is nice and airy and tugs at you the higher you go. The ice axe placements went deep. I set out for the second pitch and placed a picket nearly 1/2 a rope length out. Near the end of the rope, I couldn’t find a decent belay; the snow had become sloppy corn. I was at least able to get big steps, but the ice axe placements were lousy. At one point, I had to sweep loads of snow away. My partners complained! I decided to head over to one of the icy blocks on the right where I was able to stand comfortably next to a large serac. It was out of the sun and quite chilly. Michael and Robert followed rapidly and Michael set out right away while Robert and I stayed and shivered.
Michael led a shorter pitch over a few ice bumps to yet another ’shrund filled with sloppy snow. I headed out for the final pitch of the snow apron over the delicate knife edge of the shrund. Large sections of it broke away. Once I was out of there, I could head up comfortably kick stepping until I was finally on the mellow ridge. I placed a directional picket and continued up to a knoll near the base of the rock. I decided to stop here since a decision needed to be made about what to do next: more snow or rock?
I lobbied for rock since my feet were soaked. I wasn’t anticipating on the snow being so messy. I was outvoted though it was probably a good thing (the final steep snow would go quickly). Michael led the time-consuming traverse which transitioned awkwardly to rock. We simul-climbed up and stopped at a ledge where Michael would belay Robert up the first pitch of the final snow slope. Robert negotiated a fifth class downclimb to get to the snow. He opted not to put on crampons for the initial part and relied on deep kick steps to get up to another belay stance in a moat. Michael and I followed up where I suggest that Robert “finish what ya started”.
Robert headed up the last section moving along the rim of the moat at first then transitioning on to the steep face. He kicked super deep steps (hey, preshate that!) but they were super wide as well and it was awkward for me to follow. Michael and I also had a good laugh watching his leg fly way back and pound into the snow. At the top of the snow we took a short break. I switched out my soaked socks for my dry rock climbing liners. Well, my feet were dry for a little while at least. We downclimbed into and across a gully and climbed delicate rock up to a prominent ledge which we followed around and met up with the standard route. The climb from here is a dirty 4th class scramble. We anticipated no snow so we left our axes. Of course, we did right below the cannon hole so I blasted more steps in the snow. The steps and some wide stemming saw us through the little tunnel and out onto the exposed north face where a final 100 feet of scrambling brought us to the summit – at last!
Various guidebooks described Mount Redoubt as a tough descent but it really didn’t take much more than patience and persistence. There were no technical difficulties, only long sections of talus and snow. We passed under the Flying Buttress to the ridge which held the Redoubt Glacier. A hefty jump from above and we were on our way down the mellow glacier. We got a little lazy and didn’t rope up through a short section of crevasses and were back on the slabs that we had crossed earlier in the morning. Michael and I got back to camp a few minutes before Robert and we saw him attempting to cross the lake at its drainage, trying to cut off the distance. That wasn’t going to happen unless he was willing to swim so he reluctantly settled for the hike around the lake back to camp. I think we were back sometime around 7pm. I couldn’t imagine hiking out that night and am glad we opted to take the suggested three days to climb the mountain.
We slept late the following morning prepared for the exhausting hike. Exhausting it was. My shins were bruised from the plastic boots. I think it will take a very special mountain for me to wear plastics on another Cascade approach. Finally, after the long miles in the dark forest, we were back in Canada and retrieved the stashed salmon and beers that Robert had graciously provided. Very tasty, but it wouldn’t be complete until we took a dip in Chiliwack Lake. The other swimmers gawked at us crazy Yankees hooting and hollering in the cold water. Even Michael joined in. Mount Redoubt towered in the distance. It was a fitting final view of the mountain.
