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Trip: Dragontail Peak, Enchantments - Triple Couloir Trip Date: 04/04/2025 Trip Report: During the winter of 2023–24, I was looking for an interesting objective for my annual spring pilgrimage to the Pacific Northwest. I wanted something that required an overnight, some rope work, steep turns, and was seldom descended. I stumbled upon a picture of the north face of Dragontail Peak—immediately, the Triple Couloirs caught my eye. The line perfectly splits the north face in half and consists of three couloirs, each separated by rappels. At its steepest rideable sections, it tops out around 50 degrees. With further research, I discovered it’s a classic alpine climbing route known for thin ice, compact rock, and a remote location deep in the mountains. Then I started looking into whether it had been skied. I found a few reports—maybe five or so—scattered online. That only added to the appeal. I was pretty psyched about the line and floated the idea of climbing and skiing it to my buddy, Eli. He was down to give it a go, and we got to planning. We walked into Colchuck Lake from Icicle Road on March 25, 2024. The plan was to stay in the zone for three to four days, with Triple Couloirs as our main objective, and hopefully squeeze in some other riding as well. Being from the Wasatch, neither of us had done many overnight ski trips, so in classic gumby fashion, we carried way too much gear in. Classic. We were both pretty worked once we got to camp—gotta love that PNW ski approach weirdness. Our weather window had shrunk a bit, with the 26th looking like the best day for Triple C’s. We got up the next morning, headed toward the line, and started climbing. The skiing conditions were fantastic, but the climbing was tough—lots of deep snow. We made it to the Runnels section (home to the most technical climbing on the route), and it was super thin. Our next move was to try the sneak-around variation, but we got shut down by a steep, snowed-up slab. We bailed, but we still scored some amazing turns on the way down. I knew I was lacking some skills and confidence in that kind of terrain, so I spent the next year developing them, with the goal of returning for another shot at TC. Fast forward a year, and I was headed to the Northwest again. This time I was on my way to British Columbia for a course and only had a few days for the drive. I figured if the weather looked good, I’d make a stop and head back into Colchuck Lake to give the Triple Couloirs another shot. After spending the year developing my alpine/ice climbing and rope management, I felt much more dialed this time around. I also decided to approach top-down and with a way lighter pack. I arrived at Colchuck Lake on April 4, 2025, set up camp, then went out for a short ski and snowpack evaluation. I was stoked to find stable snow and even score some great turns on my recon. That evening I sorted my gear, ate some food, and got some rest. One of the perks of skiing the north side of Dragontail is that it barely gets any sun, so I opted for a chill 7:00 a.m. start. I headed up the Colchuck Glacier on my day-old skin track—thanks, past self! It was a calm, easy cruise to the col between Dragontail and Colchuck Peaks. At the col, I went to drink some water and realized the filter I’d used for the lake water had completely frozen. Bummer. I dumped it out and accepted that I’d just be eating snow for hydration the rest of the day. Hey, lighter pack! From the col, I booted up Pandora’s Box (aka the West Couloir). When I reached the ridge, I found myself standing on top of a beautiful face that was begging to be ridden. I’m a sucker, so I dropped in and got a sweet 1,500-foot bonus line before climbing back up to the summit of Dragontail. Right at the top of the Triple Couloirs, I ran into another solo guy who had just climbed up the route. We were both totally overstoked—he said the snow was great. I put my splitboard together, got my kit dialed, and started the descent. I always get butterflies at the top of steep lines, but after two turns into the first couloir, they disappeared. It was supportable, boot-top pow. I made continuous turns down the entire upper couloir and reached the first rappel. It went smoothly, and I pulled the rope without issue. The middle couloir is what dreams are made of—an 800-foot, 50-degree ribbon of snow hanging in the middle of the north face. Conditions were perfect. I hop-turned my way down to the next rappel and made four rappels over the Runnels Pitch before popping out at the top of the final couloir. The riding stayed consistent down the entire 2,500-foot line. At the final rappel, I pulled the rope one last time, then arced turns all the way back to Colchuck Lake. I was psyched—it felt so good to come back a year later and send it. The Enchantments have some incredible ski lines, and I can’t wait to go back. The approaches can be... let’s say interesting, but that’s part of the adventure for me. Definitely one of my favorite days in the mountains so far. On the way out, another skier stopped me and asked if I was the one who ridden TC. Turns out he’d snagged some rad shots on his DSLR. Thanks, man! Gear Notes: Splitboard, 60m rad line, beal escaper Approach Notes: normal Colchuck lake approach

what a classic .... a snapshot of early, progressive NW mountaineering design at its finest.

Hey @Earlywinters....this post is from 9 years ago and @Dan M hasn't posted in a long while..... you could try shooting him a message thru his profile but I wouldn't hold your breath.

Hi Dan, I’ll buy it. Shoot me a message. Thanks!

Ah..... looks like the Choss Dog Millionaires have left another calling card.

Inspiring photos and report like always, thanks for sharing! What a surreal gorgeous place.

The disappearing canisters are definitely a shame - for me they've always been part of the unforgettable collective experience of summits, as there is something undeniably awesome about seeing the names of the hardwomen/men who've shared the view & travails logged in those brass containers. This year I noticed canister on Whatcom was gone, but I know there used to be one there as I'd signed it in 2018. Since we're sharing pictures, here's a unique register from the Pickets, haha!:

IMG_5782.mov

Ah, I knew I had a photo of one of the really old ones:

Summit of Bears Breast:

This is something that really pisses me off. Someone has decide to just erase history by taking or destroying a very long endeavoring part of the summit experience. I can imagine that these people are either collecting them for personal gratification or considering them to be trash left in a pristine environment. Whatever the motive it’s not up for you to decide, and if you feel otherwise please enlighten us with your opinion, or be the skulking coward you have been thus far. trying to recall summits I have visited recently where registers were and are now not: Benzarino, Hinkhouse, Stiletto, Ballard. And from what I understand many more. Perhaps we can come together and figure this one out. Curious if whomever is responsible is posting up on Peakbagger and and a little combined detective work amongst us can sort this out.

Nice work. Here's a photo of Redoubt from our Bear Mountain bivy a few weeks ago. IMG_6059.HEIC

Interesting....I somehow thought most of these were much older!

I sadly think you are right. There was at least one other version of the old brass ones (than the one already posted)....I will see if I can find it.

And yes, like others, I have often looked up at that wall and wondered. Thanks for surviving to bring back the first report to the internet era!

Don't worry @lunger some hippy pow with JGAP is just a few months away. Just what the doctor ordered.

Nice write-up, Sam. Overcoming the myriad challenges with you two sure was fun. Being up on that wall made me feel small. Reflecting on climbing this and Little J-berg the same summer, a couple things come to mind: 1. the latter's name is apt; and 2. I think I should seek help.

Yeah it’s not great but not like Cascadian couloir level of tedium. Don’t wanna discourage the interested

Agree, purty pics, thanks for posting! Sounds like your gamble to not pack the pointy bits paid off. Your TR evokes good memories of that beautiful area -- have been back there a couple of times, and agree that in the summer the Thornton Lakes --> Triumph Pass part of the approach qualifies as tedious. The pilgrim pays the price...

Im not to sure on the history, but would guess nothing up there was ever "popular". We had 3 potential routes in mind and brought a small scope to choose once at the hanging glacier. The big appeal of the line we chose was the big shield of silver rock and the cat scratches that we didn't end up climbing. Very few cracks present themselves in that rock. It truly is one of the biggest walls in the Cascades and worthy of attention (winter ascents would be MEGA)

I’ve been using https://browser.dataspace.copernicus.eu

Its interesting how that wall seemed to be a popular draw in the 1960's then seemed to fall out of disfavor completely. As a young Mountaineer I can remember the "67 Wild Flowers Route" being routinely listed as an Intermediate climb and wondering if that was something they actually routinely did? I'm curious, did you pick your line well in advance or settle on it once you got up there? If in advance what drew you to that particular zone? Seems like those deep gullies would make some world class mixed climbs in the right winter conditions.

I thought we were making America great again?!