Category Archives: North Cascades National Park

Pickets Traverse- Day 1

Posted on by
Reply

Intro:  This is a tough trip report to write, not due to the length but my inability to sufficiently capture just how great of a trip it was.  This was indeed a trip of a lifetime.  I almost feel like I can say I could happily retire from climbing now!  As we thought, the trip included exciting climbing, great unknowns, exhausting hiking, spectacular scenery, and welcomed comraderie.  We each also experienced our own stresses at different times.  For these times we were thankful for the comraderie.  Like the Ptarmigan Traverse last year, we planned the individual camps and stuck to them, for the most part, with satisfying consistency.  Of course, this traverse was much more serious than the Ptarmigan.

Almost immediately after the Ptarmigan Traverse, Michael and I proposed the idea of traversing the Pickets.  A few months before the trip, we finalized the plan:  We would hike from Hannegan Pass to Whatcom Pass, over Whatcom Peak to Mount Challenger, descend into the remote Luna Cirque and climb Mount Fury’s north buttress.  From there, we would descend the south side of Fury to the Picket Pass/Mustard Lake area and ascend the north buttress of Mount Terror.  From there, we’d descend the standard route and hike out Terror Creek to Goodell Creek, possibly climbing The Chopping Block on the way out.  This plan was set until the last week when we decided for a hike in from Big Beaver Pass.  One compelling reason for this change was that our car shuttle would suddenly be much simpler.  We’d also be gaining a nominally shorter hike with less elevation gain.  Our price was adding extra bushwhacking, up to Wiley Ridge, to the trip.  The car shuttle argument won out.  Also, during the last week, we added a third member, Aidan Haley, who was a most welcome third member of our party.  On a trip such as this, a third person really made the party complete, certainly he didn’t make it a crowd!

YouTube Preview Image

Day 1:  The hike to Beaver Pass

The standard route to Beaver Pass is of course from Big Beaver trail.  One can hike to that trailhead which is over 7 miles from Ross Lake.  Or one can pay $25 to have a water taxi ferry them and their gear the seven miles in about 15-20 minutes to the Big Beaver trailhead.  It was no contest, we’d take the water taxi.  After parking Michael’s car at the tiny Goodell Creek parking, we left my car at the commodious Ross Lake parking lot, readied our packs, double checked everything, then made the approximate mile hike down to the lake.  From there I used the Ross Lake Resort phone to call the water taxi.  I had to try no less than twenty times until I got the busy line to ring.  We lolligagged around the dock for a several minutes before the water taxi showed up.  We threw our gear on and handed the boatman $25 and were on our way.

The taxi quickly dumped us on the remote shore and sped off.  “Savor it, boys.  There’s no turning back now…well, except for hiking back 7 miles, but forget that!”  It was 11:20 AM and now fourteen miles of forest and 2000 feet of elevation gain (mostly at the end) lay between us and our camp.  We should be able to make it by nightfall easy, we thought.  Thankfully, the trail is excellent the entire way.  We only got confused once when we took the trail into the horsecamp.  I guess we should have noticed the horseshoe on the trail marker.

The path was wide and gentle and we made good progress.  For the most part, our packs were no bigger than they were for the Ptarmigan Traverse, maybe even smaller.  We were going very light.  Our only shelter was a Black Diamond Betamid, which would be pretty crowded if all three of had to fit in.  Our forecast, however, looked perfect.  Apparently, the day before had been quite wet.  There were still some lingering wet clouds to prove it.  But thankfully, the trail and foliage was dry.  Little did we know that two parties ahead of us had absobed much water earlier in the day.  The sun, I suppose and hope, evaporated the rest.  Good thing the only remaining reservation was 11AM.  What serendipity – good fortune that followed us for the entire trip.

The trail was delightful and at the same time claustrophobic.  We only rarely got glimpses up valleys and only at the end of the day, as we were ascending the switchbacks to the pass, did we see sparse views of Luna Peak and the Northern Pickets.  At least that was something.  The hike went quickly for me; I broke the monotony with a little entertainment from my mp3 player.  I felt pretty good though when we arrived at the turnoff for Luna Camp though – the ten mile point.  Progress was coming along quite reasonably and we would easily make Big Beaver Pass well before the sun went down.  The break at Luna Camp was most welcomed.  Aidan’s boots were already giving him trouble (a common malady that he’s used to dealing with).  A couple of small blisters were forming.  By the end of the trip, he would have many.  How many was it?  At least ten, I think.

After enticing views of the Northern Pickets along the switchbacks, we pulled into camp.  We passed a duo at the glorified lean-to that is Big Beaver shelter who were set on climbing Challenger on our same scedule.  Next to our camp was a party of five that was planning another ambitious trip:  a climb of Challenger as well, then moving across the valley to climb Luna and Fury and then out through Access Creek.  The camp was still a little damp and dimly lit – the late afternoon sun could barely penetrate the boughs of the massive evergreens.  After a satisfying meal, a quick cleanup, and some conversation with our neighbors, we were ready for a good night sleep.  I opted to sleep out under the stars, or rather the pine boughs, while Aidan and Michael slept in the Betamid.

On to day 2.

Sahale Peak,Boston Basin Loop

Posted on by
Reply

This is the story of Ken and Dan’s annual trip to the Pacific Northwest for some mountaineering in the Cascade Range.  We wanted to spend the first night in Boston Basin, climb Forbidden Peak the next day, then move camp upwards to the Sahale-Boston Col, climb Sharkfin Tower and Sahale the next day and head out via Sahale Arm back to the car.  I picked up Ken on the earlier flight; Dan hadn’t been able to go standby on that flight but threw his gear on that plane.  I had the privilege of hauling his one super heavy duffel bag; I buckled as I picked it up and tried to haul it off.  Dan showed up a later on a delayed flight and we didn’t get to bed until 1am or so, unfortunately.  The next day we woke up early and drove out under grey clouds to the Marblemount ranger station.  We thought that because it was early on Friday, we’d not have a problem getting a pass.  Well, there were no passes for Boston Basin.  And, to top that, the Cascade Pass Road was closed at the Eldorado parking lot thanks to the heavy fall rains last year. So, we instead got permits for Sahale Arm then Boston Basin.  That would work; we’d just do the trip in reverse.  At the parking lot, we encountered some rangers, one of them seemed an interesting mix of German and American Indian and we later joked about asking to look at our permit with a very dry “Papers please.”

We started up the road, an extra 3+ miles, around 11am, a little despondent that we had this extra burden.  Three and a half miles on an easy road sounds pretty straightforward, and it was.  It was really hot though and I think this extra mileage and elevation really tipped the scales of exhaustion when we pulled into camp the first night.  Two miles up the road we still wondered why the road was closed.  Soon enough though, we saw the numerous holes in the road, sections that were collapsed, and the big machinery that fixes all of it.  In some ways though, it was pretty cool hiking up the road because we were able to pay attention to new scenery that we’re accustom to zipping past on the way in or out.

After a short break at the picnic area at the Cascade Pass parking lot, we put our packs back on and started the climb (again) to Cascade Pass.  The trail to the pass is pleasant and loaded with numerous switchbacks.  I went ahead in front of Ken and Dan intent on getting some video footage as they approached the pass.  By the time I got to the pass, the weather had changed a bit.  It was a lot colder at the pass and a lot of new clouds had moved in.  After a second break, we headed up the last third of the first day – the hike up Sahale Arm to Sahale Arm camp.  The hike up Sahale Arm was awesome – lots of heather and flowers, we saw marmots and ptarmigans, and great views down to Doubtful Lake and up to Johannesburg Peak.  The upper reaches of Sahale, however, were completely engulfed in clouds.

As we climbed into the clouds, the mist started slowly dampening our packs and clothes.  We intently watched our altimeters and we went up the easy talus.  At this point, visibility had literally dropped to 30 feet (I measured).  We got to an obvious ridge at 7600 feet and we knew the camps were nearby.  I scouted to the left and found the public toilet.  Then I scouted to the right and found the first camp, which was occupied.  I yelled, “Hi guys!” to the occupants who answered (turned out to be Rob and Ben who we would share the summit with the next day) and gave me vague directions to where other camps were.  The three of us then headed up to search for a place to sleep.  We spread out and dropped our packs and roamed around.  It was easy to get out of view of each other.  We explored a large rocky area that only revealed a semi level section of snow.  In the mist, I thought I could see another section of rock and I let Ken and Dan know I’d go explore there and I’d either yell that I found something or I’d meet them at the snow platform at the top of the last rocky section.  This new rocky outcropping looked far away but I took a mere 10-15 steps and was suddenly there; distances were completely out of proportion in the mist!  After a couple of minutes, I found a spot and hollered to Ken and Dan who followed my voice down.  We set up camp, ate, and then crashed for ten hours!  It was an exhausting day.

The next day, we tentively opened the fly to see what the day would reveal.  It was clear!  Well, for the most part.  There was lots of blue sky but there were also a whole lot of clouds.  The north Cascade valley was engulfed in a large cloud, Johannesburg moved in and out of clouds, and beyond Sahale Arm, near Forbidden, seemed to be covered in clouds.  But, it was clear above and behind us and we could see the summit of Sahale Peak.  We took our time getting ready and then packed up and headed up with heavy packs.  We wanted to get over Sahale Peak this day and down to Boston Basin.  If we had the time, energy, and weather, we’d also try to climb Sharkfin Tower.  We followed easy snow to the base of the summit tower.  We decided that since we were wearing full packs, we’d rope up for the one pitch to the top.  In normal weather with a light pack or nothing, this would be a thrilling scramble to the top.  I thought maybe I’d go straight up the face and then link up with the lefthand ridge.  This turned out to not be the best choice (there were no good places to protect) and I had to make some delicate moves to get over to the ridge.  Once we got going though, the ridge went quickly and easily.  On the top, we met up with Ben and Rob and we posed for lots of pictures.

By the time we were ready to rappel down the north side of Sahale, the clouds moved in and engulfed the summit.  Sadly, they didn’t leave for the rest of the trip.  On the other side of the summit, the scene wasn’t very cheery – cloudy and misty with unseen exposure over the right side and steep snow on the left.  We roped up and carefully made our way down.  The going wasn’t too bad fortunately.  There was a section where we had to downclimb on polished slabs with our crampons on.  At the base of the slabs, we were able to make a short scramble down to the edge of the glacier.  A short jump put us on our way.  The way through the glacier was straightforward, albeit foggy.

We made quick progress down.  Suddenly, views of Boston Basin started opening up.  We exited the base of the cloud cover and were able to clearly see down into the basin.  This was a relief; we wouldn’t have to search the entire area for the campsites.  The cloud covered went all the way over to Forbidden Peak and hid the summit from us.  Johannesburg, however, was clear.

We made a stop for some food then another to get some glacial water.  Ken then caught a glimpse of someone in the distance walking – that had to be the upper Boston Basin camps.  Cool – we weren’t that far away.  We had to negotiate a couple of steep grassy sections.  Dan’s heavy boots served him well at this point.  Ken and I were a little more unsure in our light leather boots.  We pulled into camp in the afternoon.  Most of the established campsites were still under snow we were told.  We were able to find a nice flat spot though and set our camp up there.  We spent the rest of the day gazing up towards Forbidden that at most revealed the base of the couloir that gave access to the West Ridge.  It looked pretty steep and narrow from our vista.  Most of the time, though, we couldn’t see very far up the slopes of Forbidden.  180 degrees behind us, though, the real view was always available to behold.  Johannesburg looked absolutely gargantuan and terrifying.  We had a leisurely dinner and plenty of time for picture taking.  We set our watches for 4:30 and turned in.

When 4:30 came around, I really didn’t want to stir.  Ken was pretty anxious and got up to look.  “Socked in”, he said.  No!  Well, at least we can sleep a little longer; let’s try again in about two and a half hours.  At 7am we got up again.  I looked out and it was completely socked in.  What luck.  The night before, the rangers had come by checking permits.  We asked for the latest forecast and the confirmed our thoughts – that July 4th would be the best climbing day.  Not so.  It looked like we were out of luck.  Dejected, we lugubriously packed our things up and headed down.  There’s not to much to report on the hike out.  It was pleasant enough and the mist lasted for a lot of elevation.  These clouds certainly weren’t going anywhere today.  We had a couple of fun stream crossings.  We moved quickly; we were suddenly at the avalanche debris that Ken and I had experienced a couple of years before.  This time though, the passage was much more straightforward.  We also figured out where we’d gone wrong in the past.  We dreaded the long road hike out but it turned out to be pretty easy.  Though we didn’t get to climb Forbidden, the trip was still a lot of fun.  We had great views (the ones that chose to reveal themselves) and the experience of going up and over Sahale was really alpine.  I also greatly enjoyed the downtime where we took in the views from our lunch perch on the Quien Sabe glacier and the locale of Sahale Arm and Boston Basin.  We’ll have to return some day for Forbidden.

West McMillan Spire

Posted on by
Reply

I watched the weather forecast all week for the Cascades and the Alpine Lakes Wilderness and they slowly improved day by day.  So, maybe we’d get another nice weekend of climbing in!  Of the two climbs we’d picked, Michael convinced me to do the North Ridge of Stuart.  I was really looking forward to that when I got another call from Michael on Friday night and he told me that access to Stuart was closed due to fires.  So, to the Pickets it was!  Either way, we were going to be happy.  We left at around 6:45 AM for the Pickets.  It was quite dank and cloudy on the drive there however by the time we were within 5 miles of the trailhead, the clouds vanished revealing blue sky!  Ken and I had tried to force our way up the Goodell Creek trail the year before in hard rain and thick brush.  We wisely had given up after maybe two and a half miles.  It was reassuring to see clear weather.  I was anticipating brush again on the lower part of the trail but it was much clearer than last year…or did the lack of rain just make it seem more clear?

The Goodell Creek trail is indeed a good one.  We had to backtrack a bit to find the branch that turned east and up to Terror Basin.  This trail, as one would expect, is nonstop steep and long.  After some minutes, views began to manifest beyond the trees.  We could see Mount Triumph’s summit appearing over the ridge across the valley.  One distinguishing feature on the climb up is a section of “riblets” as we dubbed them – small ridges running horizontally across the slopes.  The trail passes over at least three of these.  Beyond that we got some of our first views of the Southern Pickets.  The Chopping Block came into view first and the rest of the main crest later.  The trail became brushier above but always manageable and not disagreeable.  We lost the trail a couple of times but always backtracked maybe 15 or 20 feet to find the real one.  After crossing under some cliffs, the trail turned hard right and began steeply climbing gullies in between the cliffs.  The roots formed nice hand rails for pulling ourselves up.  At the top of these steep slopes, the trail became less steep and the trees a little more sporadic.  We chose to take a rest stop here.  From our rest stop we pondered where the trail went.  I guessed that it would remain fairly low.  It didn’t; the trail leads to a very high notch (visible in the extreme right of the second picture below). 

The trail becomes very inspiring here.  The views are incredible and the terrain is distinctly sub alpine.  The trail is faint in places but always near.  We never truly lost a trail.  At one point, we came to a steep descent into a creek bed, followed a trail to a dead end, retreated, climbed up the creek bed to where a trail led us northward.  We broke out of the trees into scenic heather and huckleberry bushes.  Looking back on the lower valleys, we could see thick clouds settled in the valleys.  It probably seemed a dreary day to the lowlanders.

Michael unfortunately had long since run out of water and there was virtually none on the steep climb up to Terror Basin.  I had drank full bottle at the car and had a little left which I shared (I didn’t really need it).  He visibly slowed down but was able to at least quench his thirst by sucking on a trickle of water over a granite slab.  Higher up, we realized that we were indeed heading for the high notch.  The sun was quite intense this afternoon; hard to believe it was October.  We took another rest at the notch.  There was plenty of water cascading down in the basin where we’d camp.  The basin though looks really industrial – much dust, rocks, and gravel strewn about.

The descent into the basin is very steep and loose.  We found it pretty easy though by hugging the wall on the right side, then following the water along solid talus down to camp.  At camp, we threw down our packs and rested a bit.  As if I didn’t have enough punishment already, I decided to scout around camp.  I had wanted to get a good look at Azure Lake and some of the points along the ridge looked pretty accessible, so I headed of for them solo.  I made a point to scout the route along the way, checking for potential pitfalls for the climb tomorrow.  The climb up to the Azure Lake overlook was longer than I thought.  It was cool looking down to this remote lake though.  There is a beautiful waterfall cascading off the vertical north walls.

I hung around on top for a while with new views of the peaks to the east, Jack Mountain and Ruby Mountain, to name a couple.  I couldn’t see any of the other remote Picket Peaks like Fury and Luna from here.  I started running the ridge back to camp, looking for better angles for photographing the waterfall.  After a couple of more points along the ridge, I made a bee line down glacier slabs back to camp.  Michael was hanging out reading on top of a talus pile with good views towards Triumph and Despair.  We cooked dinner and went to bed.

We (or rather I) awoke rather late and after a short breakfast were off (7:25).  This day was the questionable weather day but it was another cloudless one.  There were, again, low clouds in the valley.  The clouds crept up pretty far into Goodell Creek valley.  We quickly followed a route that I had spied the day before and were soon at a steep creek gully fed by an ice-filled lake in a depression at the low point of the ridge leading to the Southern Picket Peaks.  We took a short break here where I drank a lot of water.  My plan was to not carry any water on the entire climb but instead bring a cup and drink at every water source that I came to.

We climbed comfortable glacier slabs up to the base of the snow below West McMillan Spire and there donned our crampons.  I drank a whole lot of water as well since I would have no more until our descent.  I enjoyed this tactic actually.  Not carrying any water forced me to really take the opportunity to drink a lot when I had the opportunity, so I stayed well hydrated.  The climb up the glacier is easy below the peak.  We had no rope and did not have to fool with any crevasse crossings.  The Terror Glacier proper to the north is severely broken, however.  The last bit of snow that gains the gully is fairly steep, but the snow was hard and our crampons bit well.  The rest of the climb was straightforward enough – mostly class 3 scrambling on what I would consider quite solid ground (the gully was definitely loose of course).  Views of Mounts Terror and Fury slowly came into view.

Near the top, the route becomes thinner but the exposure was never truly scary or even intimidating; there is plenty of room for scampering along the ridge crest.  We took another well deserved break on the summit to finish of most of our food and take in the grandiose surroundings.  We’d arrived in just over three hours.  There was a summit register (surprising) and we found Colin’s name written during his first attempt at the Picket enchainment. 

I wasn’t ready to leave this summit at all.  If we had an extra day, I probably would have spent at least four hours on top!  We needed to head down though if we were going to make it out before dark.

The descent was quite straightforward.  I did take a little more time than I should have by snapping more pictures on the way down.

We made good time once we got back on the snow.  We actually ended up descending further than we need to into Terror Basin.  We got separated by a little miscommunication but were able to figure out what had happened.  We were back on route back to camp.  Back at camp, we collapsed on to our sleeping bags.  I pulled mine into the shade – the sun had been beating down on me long enough.  The plan was to take a 17 minute nap and be hiking by 2:45.  At a fast pace, we could probably be back at the car by dark.  That was a nice 17 minutes. 

I’ll spare the details of the descent.  It was pleasant enough at first but the fatigue slowly kicked in and the descent back to Goodell Creek was a long one.  We hiked the straightaway at top speed and arrived back at car just as it was getting too dark to see.  Totaled up, this trip was 20 miles and 13,500 feet of elevation!  That’s by far the most I’ve done in a single weekend.  What a great and painful initiation to the Pickets!

 

Mount Triumph

Posted on by
Reply

Waiting at the baggage claim after my trip from Colorado, Michael, who, along with Kris, was doing me the big favor of picking me up at the airport, asked right away if I was interested in going to Mount Triumph for the weekend. Never mind the sleep deprivation and the various household tasks left unfinished from the week before and the new ones that had undoubtedly arrived. So, I emphatically said, “Yeah!” Triumph was the first peak that really struck me in the North Cascades. When I first moved to the Seattle area, I remember wandering around a bookstore and picking up a “Selected Climbs in the Cascades” book. I opened by mere chance to the photo of the northeast ridge of Triumph in winter. “Whoa! That’s here!!?!” (I was pretty ignorant of the Cascades)  And since then I’ve really wanted to do Triumph. Sleep or no sleep, chores or no chores, responsibilities or not, I was going!

So, I drove out to Michael’s place at 6am and we were on the road by 6:20. Then, I realized that I’d misread his email and was assuming he’d bring his little betamid tent. Not the case so we went back to my house and picked up my bivy sack and caught the 520 to 405 and beyond. We only lost about 35 minutes or so. It turned out we would have plenty of time so that was good. The road to the Thornton Lakes trailhead was rough for Washington but no problems for passenger cars. After talking with jovial Jose, we hit the trail, making good time along the flat trail. It looked like someone had driven through with a tractor and cut down the brush on either side of the trail in about a 6 foot swath. No complaints here. Abruptly, the trail turned northwards and began switchbacking up. Now came the grueling forest ascent. The ascent was quite long and we were tempted by blue skies through the trees more than once, thinking that we were near the crest. But then the trail would turn away and continue climbing higher and higher. Eventually, we emerged with views of Thornton Lakes and Mount Triumph through the trees. Past the trees, we had great views into this compact little basin. Triumph’s summit was clearly visible up the steep notch that we had to climb to. Ahead of us lay a steep descent of 500 feet or more to the first Thornton Lake which was a deep blue color, most inviting. We arrived on it’s banks after two and a half hours from the car.

A trail continued around the west side of the lake and we followed it. We neglected to study the details of the route and continued following a trail between the first and second lakes. It turns out the we should have crossed the creek and followed the creek immediately up to the second lake on it’s right side, but since we couldn’t find a trail, we assumed we were wrong. So we retraced our steps and continued up the trail to the second lake. Well, this trail dead ends at a cliff that’s hard to see around above the second lake. We committed to this route and followed it over easy but lake-exposed terrain until descending to the talus around the lake. Then we took a break, ate, and replenished water. I was tempted for a swim but didn’t want to take that much time. I figured I’d have a swim on the way out assuming that it would be as sunny and hot as it was today. We began heading up the tedious and steep slopes to the notch before the glacier on the east side of Triumph. Doggedly we continued on until we were greeted with a great view of the Pickets and Mount Triumph! It felt great to be done with all of that previous toil. At least now we were in the fun area.  I zipped around very excited to get such good views of the Pickets and Triumph.  The glacier looked like a reasonable crossing as well and it added to the alpine mystique of the area.

We donned crampons and readied our ice axes.  Part of the snowfield was melted out and we’d be forced to cross a section of talus.  Before that though, we came to a steep drift that formed near the notch.  I belayed Michael over and down the near vertical step to easier terrain and then followed.  It was easy enough but was a little wet and slick.  Beyond this I led us lower onto the glacier where the snow easily avoided anything resembling a crevasse.  We then began the short ascent up to the base of the northeast ridge.  We switchbacked up and jumped over to a level rock area where we could take off our crampons and climb up to the notch in the ridge.  We went straight up the sloping ledges which was a little off route.  Some exposed low 5th class put us on the scree ramp that led up to the notch.  We passed a party here who was just descending the northeast ridge.  They’d been on it all day.

The top of the notch wasn’t wide at all and a large snow bank made it even smaller.  From here, we decided to put on rock shoes and climb the solid ridge up a pitch and a half or so to where our bivy location was reported to be.  We simul-climbed the entire way up.  Part of the pitch was a fun 5.5 lieback, easy in rock shoes but distinctly alpine in character with our full packs and the outrageous views in all directions.  At the top of this steep section of the ridge, we emerged onto the bivy spot.  This is a perfect spot, the first sleeping location is dirt and is protected by the higher ridge above and small shrubs all around.  I could barely contain my excitement just to be in such a spectacular spot.  We had completely unobstructed views at the Pickets.  To the north, we could pick out Mount Blum and a nice angle on Mount Shuksan.  After an enjoyable meal (it took Michael a while to soften and heat up his freeze dried meal), I bounded around looking for great photo ops.  I didn’t have to look hard.  In the meantime, we used the dripping from a small snow bank to collect water.  Michael turned in a little before dark but I stayed up taking sunset pictures.

Without a bivy sack, I used my balaclava to keep my head warm.  I remember falling asleep really quickly.  Then I remember something like raindrops on my sleeping back, and Michael was yelling something like, “Oh no!  It’s raining!”  He had a bivy sack but had the wits to collect the shell jackets and drape them over my bag.  I don’t remember if I helped out but I was back asleep pretty quickly.  Then Michael woke me up and I realized the sun had risen, although it was behind a layer of maritime clouds.  The dark rock of Mt. Triumph loomed above and I was ready to start the climb.  We began at around 6:15-6:30. 

I took the first lead of simul-climbing heading to the left side of the ridge up an easy small gully back to the top of the ridge proper where the fun climbing again.  For most of the climb we were on the ridge crest.  The climbing was easy but definitely 5th class and exposed.  I placed very few pieces of protection.  Soon enough I arrived at a hugely exposed section of ridge.  I had to climb up about 15 feet on a little tower that allowed us to continue the ridge on a thin and massively exposed knife edge.  The climbing was easy again but standing up and moving on the ridge took a lot of nerve.  I crouched on most of it!  Not far ahead, I saw what appeared to be the crux of the climb – a steep right-trending crack up on the face.  I went a little beyond the exposed ridge, found a good, but small, place to stop and let Michael take over the lead.  We’d easily climbed nearly half of the ridge already and we hadn’t been going much longer than 30 or 45 minutes.  The next section was a fun friction climb up to the crux.  Continuing to simul-climb, Michael headed up.  He set a belay for me to follow.  Pictures I’d seen of people on the crux showed them in the crack but I found it much simpler and thrilling to use the crack only for my left hand and stayed out on the exposed face.  A couple of distinctly 5.6-5.7 moves had me back on easier ground. 

I then took over the lead.  We continued simul-climbing the ridge and I eventually came to the Great Notch.  Looking around, I could see that the left side of the ridge was much to steep, practically vertical.  But the right side looked great – it was steep but nice and blocky.  I let Michael catch up and he belayed me up the first section of the steep ridge.  Steep ledges eventually put us back on the ridge.  At this point, the terrain became easier and easier.  We walked 3rd class terrain and made a couple of easy 4th class moves near the top and were there.  We had the whole mountain to ourselves.  What a view it was.  The clouds were really cool though they obstructed the tops of the higher peaks now.  I couldn’t complain, especially after the superb sunset and weather from the day before.  So long as it didn’t rain.

We had arrived on the summit under and hour and a half after setting out.  So, we took our time up here snapping pictures and surmising about different mountains and valleys.  We simul-climbed down where we could and rappelled the rest.  I was more comfortable with rappelling since you really didn’t have to think about where your feet needed to go.  It was less stressful.  We did have a few dicey moments when it started raining and we were down-climbing 5th class sections to get to easier terrain and a rappel station.  Taking care saw us down safely.  Eventually, we were back at the camp.

The climb down the rest of the route and back to the car was pretty uneventful but most enjoyable.  We took a more direct path across the glacier.  We were also able to take advantage of an excellent boot glissade down the snowfield in the notch that led to the second Thornton Lake.  As we traversed it’s shore, the sun came out and really cooked us.  It was very humid and the bright sun really rubbed it in.  Clouds gave us a reprieve the majority of the time.  This time we stayed on the east side of the lake.  Crossing the talus was tedious but much easier than the false trail leading us to the cliffs.  We then followed the creek down to the spot where we had crossed the day before, only to turn around, and we were back on the main trail.  The rest of the hike out was a bit of trail pounding.  It was all enjoyable though.  In the back of my head I thought back to how awesome of a climb this was.  Truly one of the best.

Eldorado Peak – East Ridge

Posted on by
Reply

Herein is the story of the much anticipated climb of Eldorado Peak.  I’d been looking forward to the fabled snow arete for a long time.  Plus, a chance to get out into the North Cascades is always exciting.  Ken arrived in Seattle late on Friday night.  I was surprised, but we stuck to our original plan of going to bed right away instead of playing ping pong and the usual goofy activities before heading out to the mountains.  We did though; we left for the Marblemount Ranger Station early on Saturday.  The forecast was good and the weather looked clear, a sharp contrast from our soggily thwarted attempt on McMillan Spire.  At the Marblemount station, the ranger informed us that the river was running high and the log crossing featured a 30 degree pitch on it.  We both started getting a big nervous about the log crossing!  Some call this the crux of the climb.  We drove out to the road and got a peak now and then through the thick vegetation at the north fork of the Cascade River; indeed it looked swift.  Ah, the moment of anticipation!

We hiked down the road from the parking lot and found the trail easily enough.  Soon enough we were at the log crossing.  It looked awful!  It was very high up…then fortunately we realized the that part in the air was a different section of the trunk that we didn’t have to climb.  Apparently, a brand new tree fell across the original log this year, making the crossing much trickier.  The original log looked really easy.  Fortunately, the new log is only utilized during the first third of the crossing and isn’t near 30 degrees…more like 15.  There was another party here on the way down – an Alpine Ascents party.  The first member of the team sat down and scooted his way down the steep log.  Then, he had to jump from the dirt encrusted roots to the shore…he ended up face planting!  The other team members let Ken and I go next.  We ascended the log standing very carefully to the part where we downclimbed to the old log.  (We ended up scooting our way down too on the way back)  The old log is a very simple crossing.  I can’t believe people used to make a big deal out of it.  Shortly after crossing the river, we had to dodge branches and logs here and there until we got out onto a good climbers trail.

The trail ascended steeply to the left of Eldorado Creek.  We didn’t mind; we both knew that we were lucky to have a trail and were grateful!  We passed the time with the usual discussions and were happy to see that we were moving pretty quickly.  Soon enough we came to the edge of a large slide alder patch.  The trail ascended steeply to the left through some trees with cascading root systems to the entrance of a talus field marked with cairns.  Also, the weather wasn’t quite as clear as we were hoping.  By this time, we had ascended to the level of the clouds and were climbing in a thin mist.  At least the cloud cover kept us cool.  The talus field led through a notch of slide alder along a steep and muddy trail to a second talus field.  This field had snow in it and at first it was tedious to cross at the beginning.  We poked through several times.  We eventually got on to more solid snow and made our way though forest and emerged to see the obvious small ridge that divides Eldorado and Roush basins.  We followed a boot path to the top of the ridge.

At the top of the ridge, we took a break (there was a group of four bivy sacks near the spot where we needed to downclimb) before making the downclimb into the gully that would land us on Eldorado Glacier.  At the base of the gully, there was a small moat that was easily negotiated by simply jumping.  We then began the final slog up Eldorado Glacier to Inspiration Glacier and our campsite.

The views from the Eldorado Glacier were great, but fraught with wispy swirling clouds.  We got a couple of clear views of the Triad, a peak we considered climbing, but that was to be all we would see of the Triad on this trip.  We headed up the boot path and made our way to the Inspiration Glacier.  I gave out a triumphant yell as I topped out on the level part of the glacier.  I was able to see another potential objective:  Klawatti Peak.  It looked quite doable from this spot which would be our campsite.  The only questionable thing was the weather.  We got one view of the remote basin housing Moraine Lake to the east (right) but we were never able to see Forbidden Peak until the last day, and even then just the outline really.  But, the peaks looked awesome and we were inspired.  Soon after, clouds enveloped our camp.

We spent the rest of the afternoon getting everything ready, securing the tent, cooking, and so on.  We went to bed with wind singing in the background.  I think we both fell asleep really fast.  We awoke the next morning to more clouds.  We both looked out at different times and upon seeing the weather, went back to bed.  Maybe it would clear up later on.  I can’t remember what time we got up, but it was really late!  Something like 9 o’clock.  There was still absolutely no visibility.  An hour or two later, Ken went back to sleep and I entertained myself by working on map and compass skills for two hours or so!  The rest of the time we played the peak game that Aidan had taught me – a simple little thing where one person names a mountain and the other person has to name a mountain that starts with the letter of the last letter of the previous peak.  The process repeats.  This game eats up a lot of time, surprisingly.  We adapted it to other things as well like Lord of the Rings.  On a whim, I looked out and to my excitement, saw that the cloud had cleared somewhat.  By this time it was about 3 in the afternoon.

“Dude!  It’s clear.”
“What do you think?  Peaks?”
“Yeah, now’s a good time.  Peaks.”
“OK, peaks.  Let’s get ready.”
“Awww!  Peaks!”

We were ready quickly.  We roped up and headed off.  The route from this point was straightforward.  We headed for a small notch to the left of the last point of rock on the east ridge.  We then turned left and began climbing the long ridge.  Shortly thereafter, the clouds encircled us again.  No visibility.  Bits of the ridge would open up now and then only to reveal that we had further to go but the weather only eventually worsened.  We pressed on.  Ken’s old boots had started breaking down and his feet were soaked and getting cold.  We pressed on though.  The snow was quite deep and it was hard to not break through up to our knees.  Still, there was no need for snowshoes on this trip.  Soon enough we arrived at a junction.  We capped out on a small ridge and to the left, the snow arete appeared.  Alright!  We started up.  The exposure was great but not as scary when we could only see maybe twenty feet in front of us.  We could make out the very precipitous drops around us:  maybe 60 degrees to the left and 70 to the right!  Man, if only we could see more!  It had started snowing and sleeting on us as well.  The arete isn’t too painfully long – about 200 feet.  We were on the summit before we knew it!

We had to get down quickly though since Ken’s feet were getting really cold now.  I think one of his toenails fell off as a result – way to hang in there to get the summit!  Anyway, the descent was quite sloppy.  We bounded and bashed our way through the slushy snow and jumped into the tent.  We were happy to make the summit but a little sad we didn’t have any views.  Ah well, these things happen in the Cascades.  We did entertain the idea of climbing the peak again (it didn’t take long at all from camp) if the weather cleared.  We had another good meal and turned in, playing a few more word games.  This night was much more windy and snowy than the first and we awoke to a rime-coated tent!  The weather was still poor.  We waited an hour or so and began breaking down camp.  Soon after, the weather started breaking and we got a little sunhit.  We had our best views of Eldorado Peak yet!

We only briefly considered climbing the peak.  Ken’s feet were really cold and both of his socks were damp.  We decided to head down instead.  We were able to glissade a decent amount of the route.  One very interesting part of the trip, and quite scary, was when we decided to glissade through the trees.  We had done this before several times, most notable on Buffalo Mountain in the Gore Range of Colorado.  Things were a little different this time.  Ken headed off first down a steep hill that eventually smoothed out before hitting another hill.  I followed and picked up speed fast.  A little too fast because I wiped out and had to start again.  As I crested the next hill, I saw Ken yelling something at me.  I finally heard him:  “Stop!!  Stop!!”  But it was too late:  I saw the 10 – 15 foot waterfall yawning before me with the water cascading underneath a hole in the snow at the base.  Before I could even think, I turned on my right side trying to veer out of its path.  I moved out of the way enough to where I flew over the falls to the right and hit the lip of the snow, bounced forward on my stomach and landed on top of Ken.  Ken hadn’t fared as well and actually hit the cascading water on rock but fortunately catapulted onto the snow at the base of the falls.  We both lay still for a while and then expressed our gratitude that we escaped that without any harm, only a small cut on my thumb from my ice axe, I guess.

Well, we were done with glissading and made a point to learn from our mistake and not glissade to casually in the Cascades which are riddled with waterfalls and streams.  We hit the talus field on the way down which was much more treacherous on the descent than ascent.  We actually did end up slowly glissading parts of it to prevent ourselves from punching through!  We were finally out of the snowy part of the talus and slowly made our way down the steep muddy trail to the second talus field and finally back to the comfortable trail.  The descent was easy enough but we had one last crux:  crossing the north fork of the Cascade River.  It turned out not to be as bad as we were expecting.  We just needed to scoot on our rear ends slowly and that was all there was to it.