For one of the last trips of the year, I had my hopes on the east ridge of Inspiration Peak, Robert set his sights on Early Morning Spire. Thanks to the weather, Robert threw out the suggestion of “The Enchantments”. Oh yeah, I’d never been there, no like. Can you believe it? So, it was settled, we planned to go climb “The Mole”, and Prusik Peak, and maybe even Temple Ridge. I met Robert in Cashmere around 7:15 in the morning and we drove out to the ever popular Snow Creek trailhead prepared to go in “ninja style” with our day trip story. Our plan: Hike up to the Edwardian Plateau via the Toketie Creek trail, climb the Mole, sleep somewhere around Mesa Lake, hike to Prusik Pass the next day, climb Prusik Peak via the west ridge, see what else we were up for and then head out.
The first part of the Snow Creek trail always seems to go fast. “Wow, we’re already past Snow Creek Wall.” Maybe the high altitude of Colorado made me appreciate the oxygen, or maybe it was the large quantity of Thai food serving as fuel, but I was feeling good. Somewhere around a campsite that was just before a set of switchbacks (around 3200 feet), we left the trail and crossed Snow Creek aiming for the left side of a prominent talus patch to the south of Toketie Creek. We crossed some semi-sketchy bouncy downed tree crossings across the creek, or above a dangerous pit of strewn broken trees. Eventually, we were in the talus field, consisting of mostly very large boulders. We eventually found cairns and followed them as best we could until we found a dusty trail that went up and up and up always exposed to the hot sun.
After the trail finally relented some, we took a break, consulted the map, and then figured out the next part of the trail: a wide, steep slope of granite, a little brush and burned trees from the Rat Creek Fires. After we crested this slope, we were finally in the high country around Toketie Lake. We’d already lost and found the trail about ten times on the way up, and we probably lost and found it ten more times before arriving at Toketie Pass, just south and a little west of the Edwardian Plateau. There’s a tarn here created from snow melt where we decided to camp.
We packed up for a quick trip to the Mole, one of those rare summits that would be fun to tick off. The hike up to the plateau went quick, more hopping over boulders and a rough trail. Up on the plateau the trail vanished as we traveled through larch forest, then to a burn zone, and then to a small sandy desert. The Mole was just over the western edge. Getting to it was a bit of a pain…a steep sandy descent and a slippery sandy gully between it and the Duolith. I kinda wish we would have started the climb lower down, some of the cracks looked good, but we found the official started and roped up. Robert took the first pitch and headed off. This first pitch was good, with a solid fun 5.7 section right off the bat. Robert then traversed around a tree and up over some boulders, along a ledge, then up a small set of cracks. He belayed from there.
I think we may have gotten off route here and Robert opted to head out again in order to “make it right”. After realizing that a squeeze between the wall and a large boulder wouldn’t go, he down climbed about fifteen feet to a deep notch with an overhanging crack. Having already used some pro that would have been perfect for the crack, he opted for a balancy traverse that gained the notch above the crack. I followed, climbing the crack directly, finding it harder than 5.7, I’d call it 5.9. Above this, a steep flake system requiring liebacks led to where Robert was belaying on the ridge. I led out from here placing like two pieces on easy terrain that led to the summit. On top of the Mole, the Icicle looked far away, a totally miserable way to approach the Mole – I’m sure no one is dumb enough to approach from that direction.
We headed back down to our camp. This spot was great. The tarn had been warmed by the sun so cleanin’ up wasn’t a miserably cold experience. Also, there are tons of places to sleep on either dirt or granite. We picked the dirt for the extra layer of soft comfort it provided. The moon wasn’t out tonight, or was just hanging out behind a ridge somewhere, and the stars were out in spades.
Posted 2 years, 11 months ago at 3:20 am. Add a comment
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.
http://www.vimeo.com/6789278
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!
Posted 2 years, 11 months ago at 3:06 am. Add a comment
At the last minute, Ari and I decided to leave for Rainy Pass to car camp and then day climb the northeast ridge of Black Peak the next day. OK, that’s an efficient way to do it. Let’s go! We left around 9:30 PM Friday bound for Rainy Pass. However, we were tired enough that we stopped driving at Diablo Lake and pulled into the overlook, parked, and dragged our sleeping bags over to the edge of the overlook. Except for a couple of derelict cars and a few deer, the area was empty. We awoke to a nice sunrise over the emerald lake. We jumped in the car and made quick down to Rainy Pass. The mosquitos were out again and even I opted to put on some bug juice.
Getting to Heather Pass took no time at all. I was surprised at how quickly we got up the trail. In front of us, outlined against the blue sky and across a long talus field, was Black Peak. We could see Lewis Lake and some waterfalls in front of us, but Wing Lake was still out of view. The talus field was tedious, but manageable. Lewis Lake is vividly turquoise and I enjoyed traversing low around the right side of the lake. The trail didn’t start ascending until some yards after it crossed the source. I was beginning to think we were on the wrong path. The trail climbed steeply but comfortably up to Wing Lake. I was feeling tired and out of shape again, but I managed. One problem was that these new boots were starting to repeatedly bruise my ankles again. It’s like a little hammer tapping on my ankle every time I took a step. I got out some extra socks and jammed them down in the shoes to isolate my ankles from constant rubbing. It helped, somewhat.
Wing Lake was surprisingly frozen! We took a rest here, got some food, and reapplied sunscreen (to everywhere except the calves where we were both burned at the end of the day). To get to the ridge required a tedious climb up talus and snow. It’s quite a long slog. Once there, we had good views west and north. Some tricky 4th class traversing got us to a spot where we’d rope up. Ari wanted some practice leading so he got the rack and then took off.
The climbing was good, but not great. The rock was mostly solid, but there were definitely sections of steep loose blocks where extra care was needed. This climb reminded me some of Triumph. It was similar rock, maybe not quite as solid and not as thrilling. There’s a great “sidewalk in the sky” with lots of exposure that leads to a nice belay where you can take a comfortable break. Beyond that, it’s more of the same – easy 4th and 5th class climbing to a false summit which reminded me of a much smaller and easier version of Bugaboo Spire. We traversed along to the real summit and cut back up a gully to arrive at the top. The view of Goode was inspiring but the valley looked deep. Just getting up to the glacier looked to be a piece of work.
The hike out was a total pain. The descent off the summit wasn’t too bad, but required a lot of concentration descending the steep 4th class. Getting down to the ridge was just a matter of scouting out the route, looking for the most promising scree ledges and gullies, and then confirming your choices with an occassional cairn. The descent from the col was down steep scree then snow, which promptly dumped into my boots since they were wide open due to the socks jammed between my ankles and the sides of the boots. I cursed the snow as I made my way back to the scree. I emptied my boots and put on my gaiters. I boot skied down the rest of the snow almost all the way to the lake. The remainder of the hike out was awful as the socks seemed to be doing less and less. It reminded me of the painful descent off Slesse, that time being my knees. I hobbled my way down questioning my sanity for going on this climb. At the same time, the mosquitos were biting. So, I hiked and slapped. I was a lot slower on the hike out and Ari got far in front of me. He had the car waiting at the trailhead (not allowed to park directly at the trailhead) as I finally arrived. Thanks! We made it just in time for Good Food! My spirit perked back up.
Posted 3 years ago at 2:34 am. Add a comment
