Sleeping on the summit of Mount Fury was the perfect culmination of the climb. Both perches, the tent and my ledge, we both small. Though it wouldn’t have prevented a fall, I did throw my harness around a horn and clipped my daisy chain to my sleeping bag. It was more just to feel the tug to remind me that I shouldn’t roll any further. I awoke at first light, a little after 5am, and this time I didn’t roll over and go back to sleep. Instead, I leaped up with uncharacteristic energy and camera in hand. The morning was purple with hints of pink. I quickly scrambled up to the summit and sat to take a few pictures.
No sign from Aidan and Michael yet. I scrambled back down to my camp and beyond to a small gendarme that afforded even grander views of the peaks to the south, then back up to the summit. I was just too excited with all the photography possibilities and simply knowing that I was essentially alone on the top of Mount Fury.
I went back to ledge and my sleeping bag around 6:15 or so and slept for another hour. By then, Michael and Aidan were starting to stir. Today was to be our rest day. All we had to do was descend the south side of Mount Fury, over Outrigger Peak, the southeast peak of Mount Fury, and down the ridge to a camp somewhere around Picket Pass. I originally called for a camp down at Mustard Lake but had drawn in spots on the map for other potential camps. One was Picket Pass but I was doubtful that water would be there.
We reluctantly left the summit of Mount Fury a little after nine, I think. I had scouted the route early in the morning. We’d have to downclimb talus around two gendarmes, then cut left which would put us on the glacier and then we’d just (most likely) walk down it to the base of Outrigger Peak. The only spot that was out of view on the descent to the glacier was the one that turned us around and forced us to climb up to a small saddle that led us down steep but easy slopes to the base of the glacier. There was dripping water here that we tried to take advantage of. It only gave us a quarter of a cup before we got impatient. The glacier was easy hiking until we got to the steep dropoff. We were holding out hope that it would be just an illusion and we’d end up dropping down 30 degree slopes. No such luck. We were at an impasse.
We discussed various options. We could scout over the edge of the snow to see just how steep the slope was or we could go way around and descend the east glacier. In the meantime, I roped up and negotiated over an easy moat to another notch at the edge of the glacier. Maybe we could do some more scrambling on talus to get us down to the southeast peak. No such luck – there was only steep cliffy terrain featuring terrible rock. We ruled out descending the east glacier since we couldn’t see how we’d get over to the southeast peak; it might be completely blocked. So, Michael volunteered to go check out the steep icy slope. “Let’s do it”, he said. Through an odd twist of luck, he was wearing Aidan’s boots in an effort to relieve Aidan of his growing blisters (they both wore the same shoe size) and those boots happened to be very stiff – excellent for front pointing. Neither Aidan or I were particularly keen on front pointing our way down. So, it worked out. We set up a belay and lowered Aidan who placed pickets and ice screws on the way down. I followed and clipped them in. Michael then downclimbed on a belay to the base where Aidan and I were waiting. We repeated this two more times until we were down.
At the base, tiny cuts of water streaked through the ice and we took the time to rest and drink our fill here. We actually had one more downclimb on a secondary slope followed by another section of free downclimbing, thankfully less steep, that got us onto a more gentle part of the glacier and we were able to follow gentle slopes to the a headwall of snow which we climbed to get back on to talus. From here, we scrambled our way along a ledge system to a right hand ridge on Outrigger Peak which we followed to the summit. From the summit, we started to descend a more prominent ridge on the same side which would lead us to Picket Pass.
As we looked back on Mount Fury, we realized that we could have descended the East Glacier and hooked back up with Outrigger Peak. It certainly would have saved time and stress. We were all a little stressed as we made our way down the easy ridge to Picket Pass. Along the way, we had to take the rope out twice. Once for a rappel and once for a very exposed section of thin 4th class ridge. Aidan could only shake his head incredulously and occasionally laugh, “Could we expect anything less from the Pickets?” Well, at least the views were among the best we’d ever seen.
So much for the “rest” day. We plodded doggedly along finally approaching the pass. I could see a snowbank at the pass. Maybe there would be water! I excitedly dropped my pack and went to inspect the snow. There was water! Someone had kindly built a tiny dam which formed a pool of snowmelt. Finally, we were at our camp. We only had a couple of hours of daylight to enjoy though. It sure would have been nice to have arrived here at perhaps noon, but it was still most welcomed. Aidan and I went and cleaned up in sun-warmed pools a little above the pass. Afterwards, I wandered a few times back down to the dammed pool of drinking water since it afforded views from the base of McMillan Cirque and Mustard Lake all the way up to the tips of the peaks. Of all the cirques and valleys I’d seen on this trip, this one hyptnotized me the most. It looked so deep, so far removed from civilization. I’m sure it has only been tread a few times and those who have would never wish to do so again. I almost half expected to see some kind of prehistoric dinosaur raise its head out of the dense brush. I broke out of my reverie and headed up for dinner.
I found a nice soft spot near the tent to sleep. I couldn’t believe the luck that we had in planning the dates for this trip. We had clear skies every day and night and there were zero bugs. I was most grateful for no bugs. I remembered how Michael and I got dive bombed by hoards of mosquitos on Mount Stuart. Thankfully there was none of that. I was tasked again with getting everyone up at first light. Two big mountains down, one more to go. We were only two days away from the end of the trip. The days were flying by.
On to day 6.
