The weather in the North Cascades deteriorated so we headed to the Alpine Lakes for slightly unsettled weather which was apparently perfect for the Stuart Glacier Couloir route (I guess it was).  We got a deliberately late start on Saturday, leaving the Seattle area a little after noon.  After various errands and stopping for food, we drove to the Mountaineer Creek trailhead and hit the trail around 4pm.  We estimated it would take about four hours to get to high camp at the base of Mount Stuart at 5400 feet.  We brought a 60m 8.5mm rope and a fairly large rack of gear for the rock portion (we would double the 60m rope).  Michael opted for two ice tools and I decided to stick with a standard mountaineer’s axe and a single ice tool.  We made great time to Colchuck Lake turnoff, maybe an hour, and continued on to the first nice viewpoint of Mount Stuart where we took our first break, drank some water, and shot some video footage and some photos.

The next part of the hike in got a little trickier and took a lot longer.  We continued to make good time on the trail to Stuart Lake.  We needed to break off the main trail though and head for the opposite valley, which is the most convenient place to camp and climb Stuart from.  We found a major switchback and decided to break off the trail there.  At the northern fork of Mountaineers Creek we searched for a crossing of the creek.  We didn’t find anything too easy and eventually settled on a dry upward sloping log that we had to straddle and scoot across, avoiding sitting on the pointy broken limb stumps.  It was a pretty tricky crossing.  On the other side, we wondered if we’d waited too long to leave the main trail (we had), because we had a lot of uphill and then subsequent downhill on obnoxious snowy talus to get to the southern fork of Mountaineers Creek, where a trail, or at least a snowy boot path, was reputed to be.  As we were slogging our way through the talus, we heard Dan Smith calling our names!  That was great…good to see Dan and his party, who had just climbed Argonaut Peak in a very long day, and to have them guide us down to the creek.

At the creek, we had easier going for a while but got back into plenty of snowy sections where rotten holes underneath sent us falling into snow up to our thighs and waist.  We were beyond our allotted four hours but still had a reasonable amount of light.  Eventually, we finally arrived at the top of the steep slopes to the broad and snowy meadow at 5400 feet.  Our first priority was to replenish our water.  I thought I heard some up ahead but when I got up there, I could no longer hear it.  I suppose I was hearing a reflection of the creek behind us.  So, while I was setting up camp and getting the cooking supplies ready, Michael retraced his steps to fetch water.  We enjoyed a freeze dried meal (actually, I wasn’t too keen on mine this time) and the near full moon that illuminated the northeastern side of Mount Stuart.  We set the alarm for 3:30am and went to bed.

We got up at 5am…ah well.  The dim morning light revealed that the upper slopes of Stuart was now engulfed in clouds.  Drat!  That always bothers me but Michael wasn’t too worried about it.  So, we started the slog.  This route has a lot of snow climbing, step kicking, and so on in it.  So, get used to it!  However, I must admit that with the long snow slopes and the windy cloudy weather, I was not into the climb.  But I kept going.  Our first objective was to walk past the Sherpa Glacier, the Ice Cliff Glacier, and the North Ridge and ascend to the Stuart Glacier.  At the Stuart Glacier, we ascended again, making our way to the eerie couloir, whose base we could only see; the rest faded away in the clouds.  At the base of the couloir, we had already climbed 2300 feet of snow!  The couloir and the big upper snowfield constituted another 1200 feet of snow climbing!

Michael started up the couloir by crossing over the bergshrund.  Looking down the big fissure, I could see how big and how much space was down in there.  A ways up the couloir, I took the lead and continued up all the way to the base of the snowfield.  The two sections of ice weren’t problematic at all although the ice was getting quite sloppy.  Little mini fountains would pop out when I swung my pick into the ice.  The ice section is short and not that steep and we soloed all of it.  The exposure increased as we went higher and higher.  From the upper snowfield, the exposure is at it’s max; it’s a long straight shot down the couloir back to the Stuart Glacier.  The upper couloir had wet spring snow that packed on to our crampons in balls as thick as 6 inches so we were forced to take off our crampons and step kick the rest of the way.  The good news was that the weather was clearing.  We could see blue sky above us and swiftly moving clouds.  OK, there would be wind.

Sure enough, the wind greeted us at the top of the west ridge.  Still, I think I’d rather have the wind and sun rather than damp and cloudy conditions.  At this point, I realized there was no escape on this route, well no practical escape.  It would be very tedious and stressful to retrace that 3500 feet of snow.  The best way down was to continue up.  Of course, I didn’t want to go down.  The sun had given me more confidence.  We took the customary break, ate food, and got ready for rock climbing portion of the climb.  The first pitch was basically horizontal along the ridge, pretty easy going, I suppose it was 4th class.  We were wearing our stiff boots, I had my plastic boots.  I was actually a little worried about the rock climbing portion because of my boots.  We traveled along the south side of the peak, in the sun.  The second pitch led up along 5.0 terrain to the intimidating section where we had to move along thin exposed ledges of the north face…long way down to the Stuart Glacier.  Michael led the entirety of the upper pitches and headed out along a snowy exposed ledge scarcely wider than two feet.  The climbing wasn’t too hard, though rated 5th class.  Fortunately, the snow was reasonably firm and our boot placements felt solids.

At the base of the second pitch of the north face, we suspected that we could have retreated a bit to a small notch to get up on to the ridge.  It looked a little awkward, but it might work.  Instead, we pressed on ahead.  The first move was a tricky 5th class, strenuous move around a bulging rock that led to a steep snow chute allowed rock hand holds.  The rope tugged tight and I waited a moment for the belay and then started up.  The move was indeed strenuous and pretty hard (especially wearing all that gear).  I then started up the chute and discovered that Michael had just put me on belay…we actually simulclimbed that hard move.  Back up on the ridge, we enjoyed more sun and it looked like we had a couple more easy pitches before we began the two 5.6 pitches.  We traversed under the south face in sun for and then started up an easy 5th class pitch, then another up a steep face.  The final pitch was a 5.6 crack system.  I noticed Michael on his belly pulling himself up on a section of it…hmmm.  He was soon out of sight but after some minutes, the rope didn’t come tight.  I heard him yell “On Belay” and I started climbing, but the rope still didn’t come tight.  I yelled “Take!” several times, the rope slowly came in and I started up the hard crack.  In boots, this was a bear, and easily the hardest part.  It was doable with fairly good handholds, but virtually nothing for feet and it was nearly vertical.  As I pulled myself up, the rope didn’t come tight again.  So I yelled “Take!”  One of the ropes (we had the rope doubled) came a little tight, the other didn’t move.  So, I continued up to easier terrain, after the most strenuous moves of the climb, holding on just long enough to pull myself up and find tiny ledges where I could somehow hook my boots and help myself up.  I was finally on terrain easy enough that I was able to reel in the rope.  As I climbed higher, I noticed what had happened:  The rope had somehow pinched against two boulders.  I could not release it; I don’t know how it got in there.  After some finagling and digging out of pebbles and stones, I was able to free the rope.  Michael looked exhausted and said that he had spent lots of energy trying to haul in the rope.

I led ahead on easy terrain to the summit, a nice small perch with a little snow around.  The rope got snagged again and Michael got more irritated.  Over the north face was a near vertical drop to the base and I delicately handled my camera over the edge.  After a short but relaxing break on the windy summit, we headed down.  We had to descend the Sherpa Glacier.  The route to it looked a lot easier than what we’d just come up.  I suppose it was easier, but it wasn’t any less tedious.  The snow was rotten on the south side and we had to cautiously avoid falling through snow into unseen holes.  We stayed on rocks and dirt where we could.  Finally, at the Sherpa Glacier, we started a comfortable plunge step down.  The snow got a little hard near the base but we were still able to manage.  The hard crust of the snow though started to bruise our shins!  Finally, back at camp we hastily packed up – we had to make it over that scary creek crossing before the sun went down or we’d spend another night out.  But first, we had to take the time to wring out our waterlogged socks.  The spring snow was merciless and it didn’t help that my gaiters were torn, allowing the snow to seep in with each steep.  Putting the cold wet boots back on was most unpleasant.  We made a hasty retreat.

The hike out was a fast one.  It didn’t end too quickly but we moved like men on a mission.  We decided to try to follow the trail that Dan and his party had made on their way out.  Maybe they found a better crossing.  Down low, with the mixing of snow and long sections of dirt or logs, the trail became hard to follow.  We did a pretty good job of tracking the trail though and found the major creek crossing just as the light was starting to go down.  Michael had soaked himself in a small creek crossing behind us, so we were doubly motivated to move quickly.  Thanks to Dan and his party for leaving the footsteps behind.  Sure enough, the creek crossing was much simpler and we didn’t have to gain or lose any elevation.  Back on the main trail, we had a drink right out of the stream to give us a little boost for the long hike out.  By now, we had our headlamps on.  The long march was underway and we arrived back at the car, the only one remaining, at quarter past eleven.  Ug, I felt ill again from so much effort.  This time, a gas station frozen burrito and a coke was my medicine.  We took turns driving back to Seattle, though Michael got the raw deal – I slept all the way to Snoqualmie Pass.  Thanks, Michael, I owe you one!