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Mount Sir Donald

After having seen the imposing form of Sir Donald from the Trans-Canadian Highway en route to Mount Assiniboine, I knew I had to come back. Aidan and I casually talked about doing it on the way home from our Bugaboos trip (this would have saved a lot of driving), but we were tired and lazy and decided to just drive back. Now, with the opportunity of being in the Seattle area over summer, I knew this might be one of my few opportunities to climb it. In fact, if I were able to climb Sir Donald this year, I knew I could call this a successful summer, though way less prolific than years past. So it goes.

So, I recruited Daniel and Ari for the mission. At the last moment, Daniel was unable to go so I was left wondering if this would be a good idea just as a party of two (where filming isn’t as convenient). When I looked at the situation and realized that this particular weekend was probably my last until late August, we decided to go for it. To maximize the best weather, we actually decided to leave Sunday morning with the hopes that we’d be fast and that we’d storm the mountain, returning to camp by early afternoon and thus back to Seattle by late evening on Monday morning. Things were not to go as expected.

We arrived at the Roger’s Pass Visitor Center (below photo) quite early, around 4pm, I believe. We’d left early so as to get the requisite passes on time. I’d read on the internet that the Visitor Center closed at 4:30, but found myself questioning that as we approached – it was the middle of summer; it doesn’t get dark until quite late. Why would they close so early?

Sure enough, the Visitor Center does close quite late (8:30) and we got started hiking sometime around 4:30 or 5pm. The hike to the meadows beneath Sir Donald was thankfully straightforward and easy, with a nice river and greatly receded glacier providing views along the way. Most of the time, the foreshortened view of Sir Donald is on the horizon to the left. From here, it didn’t look too big. “Hmm, mabye we’ll be down by noon”, I thought. Then we turned left and started up a steep, gravelly trail that deposited us in a small basin beneath the west face where we set up camp. It was nice to have arrived early enough to allow for adequate time to relax before going to bed. A few drops of rain fell on us, nothing significant. There were mixed clouds as we went to bed.

The next morning was quite cloudy and the summit of Sir Donald was hidden in clouds. We began hiking up talus along the way to the the Sir Donald – Uto col. After 30 minutes of rock-hopping, we were on a comfortable trail that led to the col. Another party was up here and another showed up…both of them were on their way to Uto. No one was climbing Sir Donald today. It was understandable: though the pictures don’t show it, from the col, Sir Donald is a sobering sight with it’s long northwest ridge steeply climbing into the sky. On top of that, the col was very windy and the summit was still engulfed in lenticular clouds, an indication that the winds were even worse high above. Ari was visibly disturbed at the sight of the route. I practically had on every piece of clothing as we headed off. We could always turn around.

We started off on exposed 4th class grasping cold limestone as we pulled ourselves up the mountain. Not to far along, we encountered a party descending the route – two older gents who had spent the night on the route. They were in good spirits at least having talked about passing the time in a reasonably comfortable space that was protected from the high winds. We continued on. I wanted to solo as much as possible for the sake of speed, but we didn’t get too far. We doubled the rope and I grabbed the rack and headed off intent on lots of long simul-climbs. I went for long distances placing very little gear. The general consensus on the description of the route was 5.5 steps with lots of 4th class. I thought it was a little more than that. 5.5 was a reasonable ranking, but there was a lot more 5.0 terrain that I was expecting. It was all there and mostly solid, but simply a lot more 5th class than I thought. Assiniboine, having a similar description, was a simpler climb.

The “steps” weren’t very short either. At one point a high steep wall was in front of me which was easily overcome by a left-trending crack that led to a wider crack trending back to the right that I was able to hand-traverse up. Eventually, I spotted one of the rappel stations that marks the descent that was set up in 2003. If you’re wanting to climb this route, be sure that you go to the Roger’s Pass visitor center and get the description of the descent; it will save you a lot of time.

Continuing on, we followed lots of blocky terrain with an occasional slabby section where the climbing felt “real”. I tended to favor different sides of the ridge depending on how I was feeling physically – left for sun and wind, right for cold rock and shade. The exposure is great on both sides, but the air really tugs on the right side over the west face. If the rock looked slabby with cracks, I’d favor the right; otherwise, I’d take a little mental break and go left. It felt like we were moving slowly though. Eventually, I arrived at less steep ground and could see the summit, or what I thought was the summit, fairly far away. It was a steep, sharp, and intimidating pyramid. Well, it usually looks harder than it really is. “Another hour to the summit,” I thought? It would be more than that. At this point, we were on bona fide 3rd class terrain – the first 3rd class of the climb. Ari went lead off for this part. We thought about unroping, but it would have been a pain to coil it, uncoil it and put it back on, etc. At the end of his lead at a nice rest spot, he wisely insisted on taking a break to eat since the summit would probably be exposed to the wind. Ari looked mentally drained. After eating, I took the rack and headed off again. At the top of the steep pyramid, I saw that I still wasn’t at the summit. Another 15-20 minutes. We finally arrived on the summit and I wasn’t keen to linger at all. It had taken us over six ours to climb the route – quite pokey. In order to get down in time, we couldn’t afford to dilly dally. Strangely enough, I still had hopes of driving back this afternoon.

The first part of the descent involves descending down the opposite side of the summit block. This is mostly third class, sometimes loose, that leads down to a broad scree face. We followed cairns and ledges to a pathway that lead under the summit and back to the ridge. At the ridge, we opted to solo down instead of rope up. The climbing was easy but there were moments when the heart pounded extra as we made exposed moves around bulges or thin ledges. The description of the descent talked about “easy descending on the ridge leads to the first rappel station.” It was quite a way before we arrived at the first rappel station. We made two rappels on slings and downclimbed a lot before arriving at the first station. Because we went so far, we were wondering if we’d missed the first one. But, once we got to the end of the second official rappel and saw the characteristic easy downclimb to the third rappel, we realized we were on route. At the end of the fifth rappel, we arrived at the station with the yellow tailings indicating it was time to go down the face. These rappels went quickly. Arriving at the base of the gully, we still had a good amount of downclimbing in front of us. We walked down more ledges with occasional 3rd and 4th class moves to the part labeled “4th class on the descent topo”, which was actually a steep section of polished slabs. Fortunately, I found another new rappel station (not mentioned on the info at the visitor center but obviously installed by the same team). There were two rappel stations that took us to the steep moraine which we followed back to camp just as the sun was setting. There was no real thought of hiking out tonight; that would have been crazy. We just had a meager dinner, a lot of water, and went to bed.

The drive back the next day was pleasant. Ari basically slept the whole way and I drove in silence for 8 hours enjoying the views, never once getting bored. We were one day overdue, but had successfully climbed Sir Donald, which I’d wanted to do for a long time. To those wishing to climb the peak, the only advice I could give is to not underestimate the length of the ridge. Be prepared to solo much of the route or simul-climb efficiently. There’s no way to climb the route in a day if you pitch the whole thing out. Also, more importantly, expect that you will be mentally drained by the constant exposure. If you’re not accustomed to this, it can really sap your will.  Have fun!

Bugaboos – Bugaboo Spire

We awoke to the annoying beeping of a wristwatch alarm at 4:30 AM and were hiking by a little after 5:00.  I had scouted the beginning of the route the night before and led us through the various tents to the trail that led past the lake to the base of the Crescent Glacier below the Bugaboo-Crescent col.  We didn’t hear the two climbers who were in front of us, but we were able to see their headlamps approaching the col.  We also passed a second party in the camp, who would be climbing with us most of the day, eating the last morsels of oatmeal.  This time, we were able to follow a trail in the darkness.  We did lose the trail a couple of times, but we passed the two lakes, crossed under some cliffs to the base of the glacier without much incident.  Still in darkness we started crossing the glacier, which began being covered in a thin layer of mud.  The glacier wasn’t very steep and we didn’t bother putting on crampons.  We had to walk carefully and deliberately, but it was easy enough to not slip while hiking up the ice.  I did encounter one slick spot near an icy crevasse.  I moved to the left to find more gritty ice and crossed there.  We could see the other party at the base of the glacier as we began soloing up the steep 5th class ledges and slabs to the col.

We could see the first party above us, scurrying around at the base of the route.  On arriving, we found out they were still trying to find the beginning of the route.  Pointing out to them where it was, they were on their way.  They promised to be quick, which they were.  Aidan then began our climb with the lead, grunting his way up but doing so in great form.  I had always looked forward to just seeing this view of the northeast ridge, but actually standing beneath me had begun to put me in a careful mood.  The first pitch also set the mood.  I began the first couple of moves hesitantly.  Before I was even 15 feet off the ground, I felt like I didn’t have my best mindset or my best skills available to me.  Aidan hollered down, “You’ve got to commit to the lieback!”  I am not a fan of liebacks, never have been.  I found myself trying to avoid doing the lieback moves.  With Aidan’s instruction, I committed to the lieback and started moving up.  I found myself not concentrating as I should, and before I could say anything, my right foot slip, the lieback fell apart and I took a fairly long follower’s fall, puncturing my middle and ring fingers on my right hand and bashing my left knee.  OK, this was not a good start and I found myself in a spooked mindset for most of the climb.  It wasn’t until the fifth pitch that I felt confident enough to take over the lead.

The second part of the first pitch was a hollow flake that required lieback moves the entire way up.  At least I was concentrated more and made the moves without problems, but nervously.  Many other climbers think the crux of the route is the traverse move near the top of the first pitch.  I did not find this hard at all.  I guess this shows me that if I want to be a complete rock-climber, I need to get more comfortable with liebacks.  OK, maybe it’s time to do laps on Godzilla back at Index.

I refused the second pitch as well, which was a good bit easier, but still steep and challenging.  The route climbs up a dike of granite flakes forming numerous short cracks.  Unlike the first pitch, there is plenty of opportunity for good protection.  The third pitch begins with a fifteen foot down-climb from the top of the dike to a depression which leads steeply up and rightward across the face to gain the true ridge.  This pitch is sensational.  Nicely exposed and with thin holds, but at every place that you’d want them.

The third pitch leads to a comfortable belay at the base of the fourth pitch, which is a long skyward reaching corner that leads off steeply and slowly eases in angle. This pitch starts off with an awkward, but not hard, move and then follows the corner for sustained but pleasant climbing up the corner. There are several sections of liebacks, but nothing as hard or as sustained as the first pitch. At the top of the fourth pitch, a 5.6 pitch up another steep, but shorter, crack system led to blockier ground and a long, low-angled chimney. Aidan again asked if I wanted to take the lead. I opted to this time, thinking it would help me clear my head. It did. We simul-climbed a bit and then I brought Aidan up to another good belay somewhere within the chimney and then headed out again.

Aidan took the next pitch, which, if I recall, was a steep face climb with good protection. At this point the pitches started blending together. I don’t recall if it was the same pitch or the next one that we encountered another 5.7 section that was supposed to be a little burly. It wasn’t. The move was short, over a small bulge – nothing as challenging as the opening pitch. At this point, we were nearing the north summit. A steep gendarme blocked the way and we opted to make a difficult and constricted rappel down the east side to easier ground where we could traverse back on to the ridge. We then followed a knife edge to the summit. Beyond, on the traverse to the true summit, the south summit, was more fun knife edge walking. At one point the exposure over the east side is completely sheer – a straight drop down to the Crescent Glacier. In front of us were easy slabs below the north summit, which we traversed around to a large wall. We then headed up the north side of the south summit, following solid finger cracks.

I was relieved to be on the summit. I was definitely ready for the climb to be over. I remarked to Aidan that I thought this was harder than Slesse and that the opening pitch was harder than any pitch on Slesse. Aidan thought me crazy and wisely pointed out that it was due to the mental state. That was true; evaluating the two climbs pitch for pitch, Slesse is a much longer and sustained climb, with more difficult pitches. But, truthfully, I didn’t feel it. But, I did my best to keep my head in the moment. Leading those few pitches helped a lot, but not as much as having such an excellent climbing partner.

The climbers below us, Carl and Tom, soon appeared and we enjoyed our short summit moments together. Then we decided to stick together as we began the descent of Bugaboo Spire. We had read so much about the difficulty and complexity of the descent and Carl backed the story up. I suppose this helped prepare us for the descent, because it didn’t feel nearly as hard, to me, as it was made out to be. It was complex, granted, but not bad at all. The part where we had to pay the most care was locating the rappels. The second, right before the famous gendarme was fairly tricky – a committing and extremely exposed rappel over the east side. From about 3/4ths the length of the rappel is a large notch where the third rappel is. Getting to it requires an easy but exposed traverse while still on rappel.

Beyond the rappel, more exposed knife edges finally led to terrain where we could unrope and down-climb. There’s plenty of 5th class down-climbing but it slowly relents to easy 3rd and 4th class terrain. After hearing the horror stories of the descent, I had likened the descent to the awful on on Slesse. Because of that, this one seemed easy and soon enough we were back at the col. We waited a bit for another party to rappel down the col before beginning our loose descent. It’s almost impossible not to knock rocks down the chute; all it take is vibrations to get rocks moving. Each party absolutely has to wait for others to descend, otherwise it’s quite likely that someone will get hit. At the base of the bergeschrund, we quickly put on our crampons and headed down the ice.

While we were on Bugaboo, Colin and Ross were out climbing the Beckey-Choiunard route on South Howser Tower. They hadn’t returned by the time we got back. Aidan was getting a little worried about them but only a few minutes after dark, after we’d turned in, they showed up. Aidan and I were both very tired, but Colin bounced around camp and chatted as if he’d had a rest day. Ross, on the other hand, hit the hay. Earlier, before going to bed, Aidan and I talked with the campground custodian. He mentioned that weather was most likely moving in tomorrow. Both Aidan and I did not have the desire to do another big rock climb, and were a relieved at the justification of hiking out due to a storm.

Sure enough, in the middle of the night, the wind started picking up. We hadn’t bothered securing the Beta Light with lines, but each corner had a large rock to hold it in place. That didn’t stop the wind from loosing two of the corners of the tent in the middle of the night. It sounded like a near explosion and we were suddenly awake with the tent ends flapping in our faces. We jumped up immediately and secured the tent, finding extra large rocks to secure the corners and went back to bed. I slept well, though I recall waking several times to the roaring of the wind. Aidan, on the other hand, admitted to barely sleeping a wink. Instead, he’d periodically grab the pole next to us, holding it in place for fear of it being knocked over again.

We lounged in the noisy tent the following morning before getting up. Colin and Ross decided to not go for another climb as well and we all decided to hike out together. We took our time getting ready. I headed out before everyone else because I tend to hike a little slower on the descent, not to mention that Colin and Ross are very fast. Soon enough, they caught up with me and we hiked together for a while. After a bit, I got tired of the speed, let the others get ahead and took out my mp3 player. I enjoyed the tunes all the way down and stopped several times for more pictures, ones that I couldn’t get on the hike in because of the low light.

It was a long long drive back, but more rap and hip-hop entertained me. We arrived back in Tacoma around 11pm and Aidan’s mom treated us to some excellent grilled chicken pasta, salad, and fresh peaches. Feeling like a refreshed flower, I opted to drive home since the traffic would be much better this time of night than the following morning. All-in-all, despite the exhaustion, this was a fantastic and memorable trip. Thanks for coming along, Aidan. It was a great way to end the summer.

Bugaboos – Pigeon Spire

Ever since Michael, Robert, and Mark returned from the Bugaboos in 2003, I’ve wanted to go.  2006 had to be the year.  But, I seemed to have no luck in lobbying my various climbing partners to go.  Something always stood in the way.  Then, after enjoying Colin’s slide show on the first ascent of the north face of Mount Moffit with Aidan and his family, inspiration struck.  Aidan announced he’d quit his job a week before heading back to school and go to the Bugaboos with me.  A couple of days  later, we were on our way.  We planned to rendezvous on I-90 off 405, but en route, I realized I’d forgotten my passport.  A quick call to Aidan revealed he’d forgotten his as well.  We formulated a quick plan, turned around to get our passports, then met up somewhere in Auburn on highway 18, 50 minutes behind schedule.

The long ten hour drive wasn’t bad at all.  Aidan began giving me a survey of rap and hip-hop music at my request.  Now, I’m semi-literate in the genre.  Near the small lumber town of Brisco in British Columbia, we found the signs directing us to the dirt road that led to Bugaboo Provincial Park.  However, the crappy guidebook (the one by the Mountaineers) didn’t mention the maze of logging roads back there, and, what’s worse, the signs to the part are practically non-existent.  At a fork in the road, maybe a mile or a mile and a half after we turned off, we thought we would take the left hand, which appeared less traveled, because it looked to be a cut off road, at least according to the map in the book.  We even saw a sign that said “Bugaboo” not far after the turnoff that made us think we were going the right way.  Not so.  For those of you reading this looking for beta to the Bugaboos, just stay on the most prominent fork of the dirt road.  You’ll be fine; there are signs when you need then.  Aidan and I, however, bounced our way along passing more forks and getting more confused.  Eventually, we passed a red pickup truck who was also searching for the Bugaboos.  “Great.  At least we’re not the only idiots”, we thought.  The two of us searched together, the pickup truck being able to cover more ground than us.  A couple of backtracks eventually and somehow got us back to the main drag and we were on our way, after losing about an hour of time.  Thankfully, there was still ample light to hike once we arrived.

We moved quickly encircling my car in chicken wire to prevent porcupines and other varmints from chewing on the tires.  Shouldering packs that were way heavier than we were accustomed (each of us carrying a sizeable rack and a full-on 60m rope), we set out.  The trail is great, easy to follow, and scenic.  We arrived up at the Kain Hut just as the sun was nearly gone, at the point where you begin to think if it’s worth taking out your headlamp or not.  I thought I’d seen a sign that said the Boulder field camp was just above the Kain Hut (someone else we passed a few days later mentioned something similar) but a sign above the hut indicated that the campsite was below us.  We were both tired at this point; the long drive followed by a two hour grunt with a heavy pack can wear you out.  Aidan, though was adamant about not losing elevation.  So, with headlamps donned, we went up, searching for the Applby Camp.  We never found it.  We lost the trail almost instantly.  It’s nearly impossible to reliably follow it in the dark when the white and yellow granite blocks everywhere just seem to melt together.  We found ourselves crossing several wide streams.  We saw headlamps coming down from the Bugaboo-Snowpatch col and Aidan went to seek them out to ask them about the camps.  Eventually, I called back to Aidan.  I knew the camps weren’t in that direction and I’d found a place to camp anyway.  So, we bedded down on a large slab on the edge of a large gully.  We both suspected that the Appleby Camp was on the other side of the gully but we were fed up with looking for it.  Because it was so late, we decided to skip Bugaboo Spire tomorrow and instead have an easy day on Pigeon Spire. 

We awoke to brilliant sun.  I slowly opened my eyes and looked across the small chasm.  Sure enough, there was the Appleby Camp across and above us.  We took our time getting ready.  We stashed our leftover goods down between the boulders and set off around 9:30 or 10am to the Bugaboo-Snowpatch col and beyond to Pigeon Spire.  At the base of the Crescent Glacier, we heard “Aidan!”.  We turned around to see Colin, Aidan’s cousin, and TeleRoss who were heading up to climb a route on Snowpatch Spire.  We ended up hiking together up to the col where we took a break, at some food, and admired the impressive Howser Towers.

Pigeon Spire

We didn’t bother roping up to cross the upper part of the glacier and encountered no one disapprovingly shaking their heads at us.  Staring straight into the Howsers, we strolled easily up the glacier underneath Pigeon Spire on our left.  Everything about this climb is nearly perfect, even getting from the glacier to the base of the ridge.  There’s a brief section of easy ice and no moat.  Suddenly, you’re on the route.  I suppose the crux of the entire tour of Pigeon is the nasty col.  We immediately took off our crampons and boots, had a bit to eat, and packed up the rope, rack, and not much else and headed out.  We planned to solo as much as we could.

OK, so there were a couple of super solid boulders to scramble over to get to the ridge proper, but once there, we enjoyed solid long stretches of rock with wonderful cracks, ledges, and ridges.  Most of the climb is 5.0 on as -good-as-it-gets rock.  The first steep part featured a quick exposed little move to get on top of a small knife edge that led to more cracks and on to the famous first false summit that is down-climbed, or rather walked.  Beyond, we had great views of the second part of the climb which looked more challenging, but it too is an optical illusion.  The climbing is easy, consistently 5.0 and secure.  Still soloing, we passed a party of three who were also raving about the quality of the route.  On top of this second false summit, we cruised across the famous knife edge with outrageous views behind us.  Above us, the rock became steeper, but more blocky and we were soon to the point where we needed to down-climb to attain the last pitch to the summit.

The last pitch of the summit required a careful down-climb (the most difficult part of the climb, but still easy.  I believe many people rappel this) to another small col where we traversed briefly over easy blocks towards the 5.4 crux.  The crux is a short wide crack with good exposure down to the approach glacier.  It’s short though.  We followed easy slabs to the summit.

We made one rappel down from the summit and down-climbed the rest.  Because there is so much up and down on the route, the descent is almost as fun as the climb up and this time, you’ve got the Howser massif in front of you the whole way.  Back at the base of the route, we put our boots and crampons back on and headed back.  Aidan’s mood had strangely transformed into more quiet and inward and he admitted to not feeling quite right.  He didn’t know why.  Fortunately, he snapped out of it the next day because it was my turn to get weirded out and inward for the climb of Bugaboo Spire.  He snapped back to his old self back at camp.  We packed all our things up and headed up to Appleby Camp where we found Colin and Ross’s tent, the exact same model as ours:  the Black Diamond Beta Light.  We had dinner, set the alarm for 4:30, and went to bed.