Michael and I decided that a car camp and avoiding an early morning two hour drive would be best so we set out from west of the Cascades in cloudy weather around 9:15pm.  On arriving in Leavenworth, I noticed the stars and clear skies above us.  We both were quite sleepy when we pulled into the campsite that Michael, Aidan, and I had used on Memorial Day 2003.  We threw bivy sacks and sleeping bags down on the ground and slept soundly for 5-6 hours.  I opened my eyes early in the morning and took a gander at the brightly lit surroundings.  Oh no!  We’ve overslept again!  I yelled at Michael to wake up to which he replied in a pathetically tired voice, “No, it’s only 4:53, we can sleep for seven more minutes.”  OK.  Michael actually reported that it was light around 4 in the morning.  What a great time of the year.  We readied our things in the early morning chill and then took the short mile drive to the trailhead.  We started hiking around 5:45.

We made quick progress up the trail.  It seemed like no time at all had passed when we’d arrived at the first bridge and then at the turnoff to Colchuck Lake.  All the previous times that I’d been here were in early May and they left an indelible memory.  After all the falls through snow holes, the slips, the soaked boots, well everything having to do with wet snow, I was thoroughly enjoying the dry trail.  Soon enough we were at the lake and then making our way up the Colchuck Glacier and patches of moriane to the base of the climb.  The distance and elevation from the lake to the climb did not appear far, but, as usual, it was.

We continued on past campsites, some of which were occupied, and arrived at the base of the glacier. The snow was quite hard and sparkling and we took the time to put on crampons so we wouldn’t have to spend extra energy teetering one way or another trying to keep our balance. We were now in the sun which beamed down on us intensely. It was nice for a change and we happily put on our sunscreen. From where we were, it was nearly 1100 feet to the base of the climb, although it certainly didn’t look like it.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73r1zA0RES0

There was a small bergeschrund at the base of the wall that gave access to a short and semi-steep snowfield that led to the base of the rock. Here, we decided to keep our crampons on since the terrain looked reasonably easy (3rd and 4th class) and would soon lead us to another snowfield. Dry tooling seemed pretty easy, definitely easier and much less stressful than what was to come – the steep snow traverse. Normally, this is just a continuation of 3rd and 4th class rock that we were on. Now, it was a traverse hard and steep snow with a scary cliff at the base of it. Because it was a rightward traverse, our right legs, especially the calves, became very sore supporting us. There were a few places to stop and rest, but by the nature of the scary terrain, we wanted to move through it quickly. I found this part of the climb easily the scariest and probably would have liked to have been roped up here. Actually, I felt very secure, but on the off chance of a slip, things could have turned ugly. Michael continued up snow on one section but I opted to get off the snow as soon as possible and enjoy the solid granite. Finally, we were at the base of the first 5th class pitch. We stopped to put on our shoes and get some lunch.  By now, clouds had moved in to block out the sun.  It looked liked the weather would hold though.

I led up the first pitch which was rated at 5.7. The beginning was problematic because the normally easy way was covered in snow, and I was done with climbing on hard snow (and I had my shoes). So, I decided to go straight up an open book and try to traverse over. This turned out to be quite difficult and I needed to back down, well beyond 5.7 (and there’s only one 5.7 crux at the top). So, I backed down, looked right, looked left, and opted to put both feet on the snow with solid handholds. That worked and I was on my way, although after a long delay. The climbing was easy for the most part, mostly low 5th class. There were series of corners and open books and I generally tended to stay on the left side where the rock was smoother, but with less lichen. The climbing was good. I could see the distinct leaning tower that marked the end of the first pitch very close to me as I approached the final crux, which was a burly short chimney that required a semi-strenuous lieback. Then, I passed the tree with the rap sling on it as some route descriptions mentioned and I was on the broad ledge that led around the leaning tower to the crux 5.8-5.9 pitch. I was expecting a reasonable belay station over there with slings and all – there were none. I had to build my own. Not a problem, but I was just surprised.

The next pitch was the crux and Michael opted to go straight up the thin crack system.  There was a corner option as well to the left that’s rated 5.8/5.9 that looked easier except when you got to the top, where the corner starts to arc over towards the climber and the footholds look really thin.  The small crack was pretty tricky.  Handjams were a little scarce for me and I ended up following the pitch using “gym” techniques by leaning way out and counter-balancing to get my feet higher to easier footholds (the lower part is more difficult).  At the top of the crack, after a delicate shift to the right to a blockier section, I followed up a great hand crack corner.  I found it awkward to use both foot and hand jams at the same time so I hand jammed my way up while keeping my feet placed out on small face holds.

I headed out for pitch three which turned out to be my favorite of the climb.  It was rated 5.7 and felt like a joyous cruise up super solid granite on fun terrain where a solid hold was just where you needed it.  The first part was definitely the trickiest – a slick open book.  This section protected well, but my pasted feet tended to slip while placing gear.  Once I got a single piece in, I just opted to inelegantly heave my way to the top where the fun part started.  The next long section was a fun corner that also featured nice views down to the glacier below.  We could see little tiny ant men making their way up to the col.  I wondered if they could see us.

I brought Michael up to a confined belay stance at a small and stunted evergreen.  As he arrived at the top, he asked, “Do you feel any raindrops?”  “No.”  But before many minutes a little groppel started falling.  Fortunately, the little bean bag balls bounced off the rock and collected on the level ground and wasn’t causing a problem.  Michael led off on pitch 4 that was easy except for a short awkward chimney to squeak through.  Beyond that, we began the long pitches of simul-climbing.  We were relieved to be above the hardest climbing, but the falling snow was a little unnerving.  We realized that we needed to just press on quickly and go up an over the peak; retreating back down the route would be hard and tedious.

I characterize the climbing on the upper pitches as relatively solid, although we had to take care on our holds.  The climbing gets more loose the further away from the ridge crest we got, so we strived to stay right on the crest.  It seemed like each pitch had short easy crux sections of 5.2-5.6.

We wisely decided to stop and put on our shells.  The snowfall increased and eventually developed into flake.  The flakes, unlike the groppel, would fall and melt directly on the face, quickly making the climb wet.  At one point, Michael was leading and yelled down for me to put him on belay.  I paid the rope out slowly, which unfortunately meant that the section was hard.  I then went on belay and followed up.  At this point, I had on no gloves and the snow was coming down really hard.  I saw the difficulty in front of me:  a sloping wet and mossy slab with a narrow crack on the left.  The crack, as it turned out, was too shallow for any protection and Michael had essentially soloed it.  I don’t think I would have tried that myself.  There was a fixed pin in the crack but it wasn’t clipped and when I grabbed it, it pulled right out.  I delicately made my way up, at one point nearly losing it; I was thankful for the belay.  The snow was dumping on me now and my hands had a layer of snow on them and lots was falling down my open sleeves.  I pressed on and at the top wrung the snow out and tightened down my jacket.  At the belay, I continued on.  The snow abated and eventually stopped, probably about an hour after starting.  The sun, while it didn’t come out, shined through enough the high clouds to warm us up and help dry out the rock.  A gentle wind also lent a helping hand.  The rock became dry pretty quickly actually.

At this point I was just ready to be on the top in case the clouds decided to open up again.  However, we were back to our usual joking mode and the climbing again became enjoyable and less stressful.  Michael led out one final pitch below the summit block that led us through a steep and difficult overhanging crack.  The crack was filled with ice.  At this point, I didn’t care about being a purist and unabashedly grabbed on the gear to get myself to a better stance.  Off to the right about 50 feet was easier terrain.  Shucks, we could have gone that way.  Oh well, no matter.  At the top of this pitch was a section of snow.  We could see the summit of the peak right in front of us.  Because of time and snow, we opted to put on our boots and gaiters and take the standard route around the left side of the summit block and on up 3rd class slopes to the summit instead of the direct 5.7 finish to the summit.  The snow traverse was fun and exposed and I paused a bit to get some video footage.  We rounded the corner and scrambled our way a short distance to the top.  Wow, it felt good to have the tough climbing behind us.  We enjoyed sitting on the summit for 30 minutes or so.  The clouds started descending again though and Stuart passed out of view.

The descent off the back side of Dragontail was a breeze and we enjoyed a beautifully long glissade on perfect snow.  Aasgard Pass was a little more problematic, more scree and harder snow.  At one point, I got out of control on my glissade and smacked into Michael.  We both had to self arrest.  After that, I opted to plunge step my way down.  Michael, though, enjoyed the glissade-arrest-glissade-arrest approach and he got way out in front of me.  That gave him the opportunity to go up Colchuck Glacier a hundred feet or so and retreive our hiking poles that we’d stashed.

We had a pleasant hike out.  Finally, I felt in shape enough to not feel utterly exhausted and sick at the end of the climb, so I actually enjoyed the hike out.  However, I did end up lying down on the bare rock at Mountaineers Creek while it gently drizzled on me.  Michael decided to join in on the sleep and as he passed by he woke me up startling me – ok, I guess I was really tired after all.  We also passed some interesting folks who asked lots and lots of questions about rock climbing.  Michael was pleasant with them and answered their queries, while I just quietly sat back and enjoyed the rest; I wasn’t really lively enough to talk much.  I had forgotten to bring my headlamp on the climb (as my Colorado friends would say, “Well, it wouldn’t be a real trip if Theron didn’t forget something!”), however, we hiked out fast enough to arrive just in time before the sun set.  I was really excited to have Dragontail under my belt, especially such a cool route!

Trip statistics:  12 miles, 6000 feet, 15 hours