Leaderboard

The often-discussed west face of Sloan has been in the forefront of my mind for about as long as I've been winter climbing. When I first came across the stunning Scurlock photos of the face, I was blown away to learn that there had been no successful ascents of any of the major ice lines. Rumors of poor-quality ice came with every attempt up until Kyle and Porter's climb in 2020. I'm not going to lie, I was somewhat disappointed when I heard someone got to it first, but it was only a matter of time. A few weekends later I skied in with @sfuji to try and take their route to the summit. Weather changed rapidly and we spent the night in the basin listening to avalanches rip down the face as it continued to snow. We skied out the next day after some consolation pow turns. My attention then turned to the prouder lines on the main face. Still not yet entirely sure I was ready for the direct line, I set my eyes on what would become the Slither (Merrill-Minton). When that high pressure system hit in late Jan 2023, I knew it was the perfect window for the face but had committed to some other obligations. When I got a text from Tucker asking if I thought their line was previously unclimbed, I felt that same pang of disappointment mixed with the psyche for my friends. It had taken a while, but the plums were slowly getting picked. At this point I knew I had to make this a priority, If the window showed up, I had to at least try. In the summer of 2023, I went out and climbed the SW face rock route Fire on the Mountain. It was my first time actually touching the peak, and I was impressed by the rock quality. This gave me hope that the pitch up to the dagger would be possible but might need a few bolts. It also gave me the opportunity to experience the upper mountain and SE shelf descent. Fast forward to about two weeks ago when this massive high pressure system rolled into the forecast. A brief but deep warmup followed by a long stretch of cold high pressure. THIS was the system I'd been waiting for. Bozeman and Patagonia had stolen the majority of my go-to alpine partners for the winter, so I quickly exhausted my list of regulars. I began reaching out to friends of friends who I'd never climbed with before but seemed up to the task. Finally, I convinced Justin Sackett, a guide based in Portland to make the drive up for the weekend. On Wednesday the 15th I woke up in my car along the Mountain Loop and began pushing my bike up the Bedal creek road. At the time, there was a large tree fallen over the road that was impassible in a car, not that my Prius would have made it much further. I hiked in with a tag line, some pins and a small hand drill bolt kit to stash below the face. Along the way I cleared some branches and did my best to establish an easy to follow boot pack. It also confirmed that skis would not be worthwhile to bring. I snapped some photos through my binoculars and booked it back down trying to get a few hours of work in that afternoon. Scoping the dagger. The Slither is also fat for anyone keen on taking this one to the summit. That day I posted trying to get someone to go chop down that tree, and to my surprise @Manheartmountain was already on his way out there to do the work. This saved us about an hour on either side of the day, and a good bit of suffering. Our alarms blared at 2:40 am on Sunday, early enough that my body hadn't quite realized I was sleeping. We crawled out of the car and set off a little after 3am. The Redbull, gas station muffin and last night's Chipotle fought for dominance in my stomach. The approach went smoothly with the refrozen snow surface, and we found ourselves in the basin around 5. Here we ran into Rob who was planning to make a solo attempt on Superalpine. We shared trail breaking duty up into the lower gulley of the face. Below the first ice step we stomped out a platform and pulled the rope out, after taking a short break Rob continued out right across the ledge towards the Superalpine gulley. Described as WI3 in Tuckers Slither report, our first pitch involved a heinous aerated delaminating pitch of WI5. This was by far the hardest pitch of ice we climbed. It can be bypassed by walking around to the left, or possibly the ramp to the right climbed by @Marcus Russi on his 2017 attempt. It also looks like a good pitch of M5-6 climbs just parallel to our ice smear connecting at the top where the ice is better. Lots of options here, we don't really recommend climbing the same pitch as us in the conditions we found. Photo courtesy of soloist Rob. Justin on the first pitch. Deceivingly steep. The rock on the left looks very climbable, or you can just walk around. I took over for the second pitch and found the start of this pitch to also be aerated shampoo ice at the very bottom. I placed a beak and made a few rock moves to establish on the good ice a few feet up. From there a WI4 groove took me to the top of this step where I made a good screw anchor. The aforementioned beak was unable to be cleaned so it's still in place. I'd like it back if anyone else goes up there soon. Another pitch of harder than reported ice, either we had more different conditions or Tucker is a sandbagger. Likely the latter. Looking up at P2. Once again, we swapped and Justin Lead a pitch of WI3 up through a groove and out onto the onion skin cone below the dagger. Not a whole lot in terms of pro here, but incredible one swing hero ice for the follower. Now below the dagger, we took a short break and got prepared for battle. When racking up in the basin I chose to leave the bolt kit behind. This route deserved an honest attempt on natural gear before being sieged. After traversing back and forth a few times I finally chose my line and started climbing. The rock on this portion of the wall is highly featured, but extremely compact. Due to it being wet so much of the year, every crack and seam was full of frozen moss. This made climbing easier in some ways, but finding decent protection a real challenge. I slowly picked my way up, getting gear wherever I could. The terrain was pulling me right, but I eventually needed to cut back left to access the ice. Once a decent option showed itself, I made a hard traverse towards a hanging face under a roof. Finally getting a piece I was really happy with, I plugged in an additional garbage cam for good measure and committed to the steep footless traverse under the roof where I got myself a bit overcommitted. With my last pieces below my feet, and an arm wrapped around a small spike, I made a last ditch effort to press onto and sit on the thing the best I could. Barely getting enough of my mass onto this perch to go hands free, I pounded a KB into a seam right in front of my face. Finally able to relax a little bit, I knew that if I could keep it together just a little longer, I'd be on the ice and home free with the onsight and both my ankles intact. The final traverse went smoothly and I made it into the belay cave just before the sun peeked around the corner. In the warmth of the sun, I was able to revel in what I had just accomplished while Justin followed the pitch clean, securing our team onsight. The Beartooth Alpine picks still climbing ice well after a long game of "turf or rock" The gloves had to come off for this one. Unbelievably psyched. Also the point I realized I forgot sunscreen. The actual dagger ice pitch ended up being quite moderate. A steep traverse on fantastic quality ice took me to a WI3 ramp. If your biceps aren't cramping by that point, a stunning direct pitch of WI5 can be taken instead. It looks like in some years, a tunnel forms behind the pillar allowing for you to cut through, instead of around to access the easier climbing. From there we unroped and slogged up the snow slope up into the major corner at the top of the face. The occasional step of easy ice, and some snow offwidth climbing in a runnel took us most of the way up this feature. Near the top, the corner chokes down to a squeeze chimney directly up to the ridge, or you can cut right up easy snow and scrambling to gain the summit from the south ridge. I started up the chimney dreaming of the super direct but was turned back by BS sugar snow caking one side of the chimney. A fun challenge any other time than now, I backtracked and opted for the path of least resistance. We arrived on the summit at 3:45. Mooses Tooth or Sloan? We started down the corkscrew a few minutes later, and finally had the sun set on us near the bottom of the SE shelf. The diagonal steep snow downclimbing seemed to drag on forever, but we eventually made it down to walking terrain and slogged our way back around the mountain. We got back to the trailhead at around 8:20. Back at the car. Rack: 8-10 screws, handful of KB's, beaks and at least one small angle. Nuts, Single rack .1-2 (doubles would have relieved some stress). 60m rope & tagline was great for hauling the packs on the crux pitch. All the winter routes and variations I know about Photo credit: John Scurlock Orange: Full Moon Fever (AI4R, 5.8, 50deg) Crux pitches out of view Light Blue: NW face ski line Red: Borrowed Time (WI5 M7) Green: 2017 attempt Blue: Merrell-Minton AKA Sloan Slither (WI4) (AAJ) (CCTR) reportedly a sandbag by Aaron. Yellow: Superalpine FA w/out summit Purple: Superalpine with summit and better access ramp Not Drawn: Corkscrew route & Ryan Hoover's attempt to just below dagger.

Trip: Redoubt, Easy Mox - South Face (Redoubt), NE Ridge (Easy Mox) Trip Date: 01/19/2025 Trip Report: Mount Redoubt and Easy Mox First Winter Ascent of Easy Mox, Second Winter Ascent of Redoubt. Jan 17-21, 2025 42 miles hiking, 37 miles boating Eric and Nick 79/100 Winter Bulgers Jan 17 – double carry boat, motor, gear from Ross Dam trailhead to Frontage Road, sleep at trailhead Jan 18 – Carry remaining gear to boat, drag on wheels down Frontage Road, boat up lake 18 miles to Silver Creek, bushwhack to Silver Lake, hike to basecamp below west face of Solitude Peak Jan 19 – Climb Redoubt via south face (M1, steep snow, two roped pitches), return to camp Jan 20 – Climb Easy Mox via NE Ridge (M3, simulclimbed most of route), rap down south face to Col of the Wild, return to camp Jan 21 – Hike out, boat back, double carry boat up to trailhead On the northeast ridge of Easy Mox Some of the most difficult peaks in Washington to climb in winter are located in the Chilliwack range of the North Cascades, near the Canada border. I think these are likely some of the most difficult peaks to climb in winter in the entire contiguous US. Access is extremely difficult, weather is notoriously bad, snow conditions are rarely stable with unavoidable avalanche terrain, the peaks are technical, requiring ice and mixed climbing, and beta is scarce. Most peaks in this area have not previously been climbed in winter. The route I’m working on a project to climb all the Washington Bulgers (hundred highest peaks) in winter, and six of these peaks are in the Chilliwacks. This is the crux subset of project. I’ve spent several years in preparation for winter ascents in this area. I’ve previously climbed all the Bulger peaks in the summer, and that is critical but still not sufficient for success in winter. The first challenge is simply accessing the Chilliwacks area in winter. I’m following a rule that all ascents must be made legally, so I won’t sneak into the area from Canada. Starting in Fall 2020 I began scouting out the optimal winter approach to the area. Detailed route The closest trailheads are Hannegan Pass and Ross Dam, but these require 20-30 mile hikes on trails that are likely snowed over and unbroken. I skied up the Hannegan Pass trail in December 2020, and learned that the last 5 miles of road to that trailhead is closed to snowmobiles in winter, so the approach is even longer. I hiked the approach from Ross Dam in November 2020, and assessed each of those approaches would likely take multiple days in winter. Packrafting Ross Lake, Nov 2020. One option to save time and reduce the approach to a single day is to take a water taxi up Ross Lake to Little Beaver or Silver Creek and bushwhack up from there. However, the Ross Lake Resort water taxi does not run in winter. Ross Lake has no public road access in winter (or summer it seems, until the road in from canada gets completely fixed), so getting a motor boat to the lake is challenging. In November 2020 I packrafted the length of Ross Lake, and that took a full day and is highly dependent on wind conditions. That would be unreliable in winter. I considered a canoe, but that is also highly dependent on wind conditions and is too risky for capsizing in winter. Finally I settled on taking a zodiac boat with outboard motor up Ross Lake. The boat is wide enough to be stable in heavy wind and waves, with enough capacity to haul hundreds of pounds of gear. It can be deflated into manageable loads of a 70lb boat and 60lb motor. Each can be strapped to a backpack if needed. Ross Lake is in the unique situation where it is connected to a lower lake, Diablo, by road (Frontage Road), but the road is not connected to any other roads. Diablo Lake has road access, though. First test voyage on Ross Lake, Oct 2022 I first did a practice trip in October 2022 where I launched the zodiac at Diablo Lake, boated to Frontage Road, then dragged the boat up Frontage Road on deployable wheels, then launched in Ross Lake. I boated up 15 miles to the Little Beaver takeout, then hiked and bushwhacked in to the Chilliwacks. That option depended on Frontage Road being snow free, though, which wasn’t guaranteed in winter. I later did another practice trip where I double carried the deflated boat and motor down the 0.6 mile trail from the Ross Dam trailhead to Frontage Road, then dragged it down on wheels to Ross Lake. I settled on that as the optimal winter solution since the trail could be hiked in snow, and the boat could also be carried down the 0.5 mile road section in snow. The boat has a 5hp outboard motor, which goes 5-6mph when fully loaded. This is as fast as you want to go on Ross Lake in winter, since the lake level is lowered enough that tree stumps stick out of the water (and sometimes are submerged just a few inches under water). The motor is 4-stroke propane, which is clean enough to meet the strict environmental regulations for Ross Lake. The 5-gallon propane tank gives a 50-mile range for the fully-loaded zodiac boat. This is perfect for the ~40-mile round trip to Silver Creek with a little bit of safety factor. And I’ve been told be expert polar mechanics that propane is more reliable that gas for winter boating in sub freezing temperatures. This boat access method meant the hiking access component could be shaved down to 10-15 miles, which made the peaks much more accessible. From Ross Lake there are three main drainages to access the Chilliwacks – Redoubt Creek, Perry Creek, and Silver Creek. I scouted out Perry Creek in October 2023 and made a practice climb of Hard Mox from that approach. Perry Creek provided good access for Hard Mox and Spickard and was accessed from the Little Beaver takeout 15 miles up Ross Lake. First winter Chilliwacks attempt – thwarted by ice, Jan 2023. Redoubt Creek is also accessed from the Little Beaver takout and provides access to Redoubt and Easy Mox. I was not able to scout this approach, though I heard from Cascades expert John Roper it has the most difficult bushwhacking of all the drainages. Silver Creek provides access to Rahm and Custer and is on the north end of Ross Lake, and 18 mile boat ride up. I was not able to scout that approach, but have friends who had made the approach in summer. With the approach logistics sorted out, the next step is waiting for six stars to align. There must be stable snow conditions, stable weather on the peaks, low wind on the lake, no ice on the lake, long weekend, and partner available. Second Winter Chilliwacks trip – bail on first pitch of Hard Mox, Feb 2023 In January 2023 Nick and I made an attempt on Hard Mox Peak with five out of six star apparently aligning. Unfortunately Ross Lake was iced over 0.5 miles before the takeout. We attempted to bushwhack the remaining distance to Little Beaver around the lake, but that took 6 hours and we eventually bailed. That’s when we learned the ice-free star absolutely had to align. In February 2023 we returned when it appeared all six stars aligned. We made it up the first pitch of Hard Mox, but then bad weather unexpectedly came in early and we bailed. Winds were high on Ross Lake and we nearly capsized navigating through whitecap waves in the middle of a stump forest. The low wind and stable weather stars were not in alignment. Third winter Chilliwacks trip – success on Hard Mox, Dec 2023. In December 2023 all stars finally aligned, and we successfully climbed Hard Mox and Spickard via the Perry Creek approach. This was the first winter ascent of Hard Mox and the second winter ascent of Spickard. (The first winter ascent team for Spickard was Bond and Johnson in March 2023, approaching from Canada). On the return trip the outboard motor wouldn’t start, so Nick and I paddled back for nine hours. I couldn’t figure out the problem, so I bought a used gas outboard motor for the next attempt. In February 2024 all six stars aligned and Josh and and I went for Rahm and Custer. But the gas motor failed to start (I later learned residue from ethanol fuel in the used tank I’d purchased had made its way into the carburator and clogged it). One oar lock also broke because it got brittle in the cold. We ended up paddling 10 hours up lake to Silver Creek anyways, using a ski strap to fix the oar lock, then bushwhacked up and still climbed both peaks. We then paddled out 10 hours back. I subsequently started carrying spare oar locks on trips. Fourth Winter Chilliwacks trip – paddling up and down lake with broken oar lock to climb Rahm/Custer, Feb 2024 By January 2025 I had just two winter Chilliwack Bulger peaks remaining – Easy Mox and Redoubt. I had made eight trips up Ross Lake with the zodiac by then either climbing Bulgers in winter or doing practice trips. That month I was fortunate enough to meet Stephen, an expert polar mechanic. He got the propane and gas outboard motors back in working order, so I was good to go back on Ross Lake whenever the stars aligned. After all of these winter trips on Ross I learned a few lessons about the motors. For the propane motor it cannot be carried upside down, it is necessary to use an aluminum tank instead of steel so no rust gets in the fuel line, and the fuel line must be disonnected and excess pressure released before leaving the boat for days on shore in freezing conditions. This prevents liquid fuel from entering the system, freezing, and messing up components. The gas motor absolutely cannot touch ethanol fuel. Different valley options to approach Redoubt and Easy Mox With the boat motor fixed I started doing research on Easy Mox and Redoubt. The shortest approach would be Redoubt Creek, but that also was supposedly the most difficult bushwhack so might actually take the longest. In theory the peaks could be accessed from Perry Creek if we could cross Col of the Wild. However, in December 2023 we noticed the Perry Glacier was melted down significantly from historical levels. This meant accessing the col required climbing a pitch of downsloping snow-covered slab and surpassing tricky cornices. So that approach was likely out. The Silver Creek approach was the longest distance-wise. However, from February 2023 I learned that there is an old trail the first few miles to an abandoned cabin. Beyond that the bushwhack is easy through mostly open forest. That would likely be the optimal approach, with predictable timing to Silver Lake. We would then cross to the Lake Ouzel cirque and access the peaks from there. For the routes I researched that Mt Redoubt had previously seen one winter ascent in February 1977 by Barely and Rowatt via the NE Face. They approached from Canada. I had previously climbed the standard south face route in summer, and I suspected that would in fact be the easiest winter route. But it crossed long stretches of steep snow and required very stable conditions. Easy Mox had never been climbed in winter, and I wasn’t sure what the optimal route was. I’d previously climbed the standard NE Ridge route in July, and that is the least technical route. However, it requires climbing one slab pitch to gain the ridge, and that might be sketchy if only thinly covered in snow. Also, the ridge looked corniced in February 2024 when I saw it from Custer and Rahm. However, in December 2023 it was not corniced when I saw it from Hard Mox. So it was possible it would be climbable in late December or January. Another option was the southeast face route directly from Col of the Wild. This was more direct and not corniced. However, the upper section is slabs that might be sketchy if thinly snow covered. Finally, the west ridge route was a possibility. The only known ascent was the first ascent in 1964, but it appeared to be only a few pitches, though likely the most technical of all the routes. By mid January it appeared all six stars would align over the long MLK day weekend. The snow was very stable with high pressure parked over Washington for the forseeable future and low wind over the weekend. Washington had experienced above-normal temperatures over the previous few weeks, and satellite images confirmed upper Ross Lake was completely ice-free. Nick and I decided to go for Easy Mox and Redoubt. Easy Mox was my crux remaining winter Bulger, and would be great to check off the list. The Monday before the weekend I picked up the propane motor from Stephen up near Bellingham, and he did an amazing job getting it up and running. I did a test ride for a few miles in Lake Sammamish on Tuesday and everything worked fine with the boat. Our plan was to boat up to Silver Creek, then bushwhack in to a basecamp. We would climb Redoubt first since it was easier and would give us views of Easy Mox to plan out the route. We would then climb Easy Mox and hike and boat out. We would use snowshoes to avoid relying on a seventh star to align – skiable snow. On our first Hard Mox attempt we’d brought skis and bailed at Perry Creek when the snow conditions weren’t good for skiing. By using snowshoes we could plod up even if the snow was icy. The only possible question mark was whether it would be getting too cold. The peaks were forecast to be between 5F – 15F, which was cold for technical climbing but doable since the wind was forecast to be low. However, at upper Ross Lake the lows were forecast to be around 15F-20F for multiple nights with low wind. That is the shallowest part of the lake, and with calm nights there was a risk it would freeze over. We could likely boat up on Saturday since that would be the first cold morning and the water would likely still be warm from the previous weeks. But there was a risk we’d return to the boat at the end of the trip and be blocked in by ice. But, daytime temperatures were supposed to be slightly above freezing and we expected the sun would help melt any thin ice. So we decided to go for it. Worst case, if we got blocked by ice getting out we could hike around the north edge of the lake to Hozomeen and hike back out the 30 miles to Ross Dam down the east bank trail, which was likely snow-free. That would not be ideal, of course. Packing up at Ross Dam trailhead Friday Friday I set my NWAC-scraping Python code running to send me daily avalanche forecasts to my inreach. Then we loaded up in my truck and drove to the Ross Dam trailhead by 4pm. That evening we made two carries of loads down to Frontage Road – the first load was the boat and boat accessories bag, the second was the motor and propane. We then inflated the boat and got it set up for a quick getaway. I considered storing the propane tank in the truck overnight to keep it warm, but we decided it would be smarter to leave it out in the cold. This would be the coldest temperatures I’d ever run the motor (~15F). If it started up in the morning from being that cold, we’d have confidence that it would also start up for our return trip. But if I kept the propane in the truck over night we wouldn’t get that data point. We did, however, put the propane tank in a duffle bag next to the boat overnight to protect it from frost, and wrapped a tarp around the motor to keep it a little warmer. Dragging the boat down Frontage Road We slept in the truck that night at the Ross Dam trailhead, and were the only ones there all night. Saturday Our plan was to hopefully make it all the way to basecamp on Redoubt Glacier by Saturday evening, so we needed to start early. However, boating in the dark was risky because of the submerged stumps on Ross Lake. From all my trips on Ross I know the problem areas at different water levels. The water height is controlled by dam operators based on the energy needs of the greater Seattle area, and this varies throughout the year and is hard to predict. But it is published online by USGS (https://waterdata.usgs.gov/monitoring-location/12175000/#dataTypeId=continuous-00065-1922206742&period=P7D&showMedian=false). My usual strategy is to compare current lake level to past levels when I’ve boated on Ross. This weekend was 1564ft, which was 5ft higher than in February 2024 when I’d boated up to Silver Creek. On that trip the only problem areas for stumps had been Devil’s Creek and Silver Creek. (For reference, when it is below 1550ft there are many more problem areas throughout the lake, both near the shore and in the middle, down lake and up lake, and this is very scary at night). With this water height it was ok to boat in the dark until Devil’s Creek, but we wanted daylight beyond that. I’ve previously tried boating with super bright off-roading headlights connected to a motorcycle battery on the front of the boat. But it seems like Ross Lake is always so foggy at night in winter that visibility still isn’t great, even with the special yellow fog lights. That battery is really heavy, so we’d bring two smaller bike lights instead. They could last a few hours on the highest setting, which would be sufficient. And we’d be boating through safe areas at night anyways, so it should be ok. Loading up on Ross Lake This meant we got packed up to go at 4:00am. Just before leaving I remembered to set up four mouse traps in the truck. Ross Dam is one of the top ten mousiest trailheads in the state, and I usually come back to find mouse poop in the truck if I don’t set up traps. We ferried the last load of climbing gear down to Frontage Road, then loaded up the boat. We put the gear as far back as possible over the wheels, then rigged up a climbing rope on front so we could both drag it down the road. It’s important for our steps to be synchronized when walking for maximum efficiency. Down at the lake edge we wheeled the boat around the resort truck parked there, and we were grateful that it was far enough to the side to allow us to squeeze by (this is not always the case). We layed the big tarp in the boat, then put the two packs in. Then we put a bag of sharp objects (snowshoes, ice tools, poles, crampons) double duffled on top, not touching the boat at all. We then folded the tarp over top and strapped it down with bungees. This would protect the gear from water spray in case we encountered heavy waves. We each layered up, put on our dry suits, put on life vests, then put down jackets over everything. Nick wore his 6000m Scarpa double boots and I wore my 8000m Olympus Mons double boots. We knew the boat ride would be about 3.5 hours sitting in the cold, so needed to dress as warm as possible. I got in first, then Nick got in and pushed us off. I retracted the wheels, then rowed out into the middle of the lake and tried to start the motor. It was very reluctant to start, likely because of the cold. I would do 15 pulls, then rest, then repeat, then rest. This went on for about 10 minutes. I started talking about backup options, but then it finally started! One trick is that it needs to be a very sudden jerk for the pull, not just a slow continuous pull. By 5:30am we were finally cruising up the lake. I started out slow so we could make it through the water bar. The resort strings up a bunch of floating logs as a wave break, and there’s one narrow gap for boats to squeeze through. If you were cruising up at night it would be very easy to not see the logs and crash into them. The gap gets moved to different locations every time I go there, so I had no idea where it was. Luckily they place reflective cones on each end, though. This day it was on the far north side. Boating up lake, looking back at Jack mountain We carefully made our way through, then on the other side I turned the motor up to max and we reached cruising speed of 5.7mph. I’ve gotten pretty familiar with all the features of the lake over the years. We soon rounded Cougar Island, and I resisted the urge to cut through the gap with the shore since the submerged stumps were risky there. We went past Roland point, and Big Beaver on the left, with Pumpkin Mountain sticking up in the dark. We then rounded rainbow point and then reached the bridge over Devils Creek just as the sun was coming up. Taking out at Silver Creek Luckily there were no stump problems, but we had enough daylight by then to see at least. We beelined to Tenmile Island, then past Lightning Creek and on to Cat Island. Beyond that we started encountering wind and waves that were apparently coming out of the Little Beaver valley. This was unexpected, and we got sprayed with water as the boat cut through the waves. It was so cold the water instantly froze into verglass on our jackets and on the boat. Luckily the wind was localized and by Jack point it had died down again. Walking to the campground Finally, we could see the fan-shaped outlet of Silver Creek. I wanted to land as close as possible to the campground, but it was located on the north side of the fan. We could see the lake ended just north of that, with many stumps sticking out. That meant shallow water with a higher risk of freezing over, and also more danger from stumps. So at 9am we landed on the south end of the fan where the water was deeper and less risky. We quickly unloaded and left all the boat supplies in a duffle in the boat. We wrapped the motor in a tarp to protect it, then I disconnected the fuel line and used a screw driver to depress a valve to release excess gas. We then put the propane tank in a black duffle so the sun could help warm it. At Silver Creek After a 10 minute walk through beach covered in 5ft tall stumps we reached the official Silver Creek campground. It had a dock that I don’t think has seen water in years (judging by all the grass growing around it). We had a quick snack at the picnic table and left a little bit of food in the bear box, then headed out at 10am. Our packs were very heavily loaded with snowshoes, double boots, and ice tools strapped on the outside. Based on my previous trip I knew the optimal route up Silver Creek was to cross near the outlet to the north side, then pick up the old miners trail. We carefully tiptoed over icy rocks and frosty logs, and made it into the woods on the north side. I had my previous GPS track loaded on my watch and soon picked up the old trail. The woods are generally very open, and the trail long ago abandoned, but the trail still allows for quicker progress than bushwhacking. Bushwhacking to the cabin We cruised up the trail for a few hours and hit snow starting around 2500ft. Shortly after that the trail disappeared at the old cabin site. Unfortunately the cabin got smashed in by a tree and is now just a few wall sections providing no shelter. Beyond the cabin the woods are generally open and travel easy. The ground soon got icy enough that we ditched our hiking boots in a bag tied to a tree and switched to double boots and crampons. The snow eventually got deep enough to switch to snowshoes around 3000ft, but the snow was consolidated enough to not be difficult trail breaking. We took turns and by 3:30pm we reached the head of the valley at the base of the cliffs below Silver Lake. Here we roughly followed my February route, which was to climb up the right side of the drainage following the lowest-angle treed slopes. We got halfway up in snowshoes, then continued in crampons as the terrain steepened and the snow got more firm. Nice open forest above 3000ft. Darkness set in half way up, and we continued breaking trail through mostly consolidated snow on the south-facing slopes. By 7:30pm we crested the outlet of Silver Lake and stopped to top off our water bottles in the surprisingly unfrozen outflow. That would have been a nice place to camp, but would not be close enough to our objectives. We switched to snowshoes and continued across the frozen lake and up through the Spickard-Custer col. On the other side we dropped down to 7000ft and traversed on low-angle slopes to the base of the west face of Solitude, just before the Redoubt Glacier started. We decided that was close enough to be our base camp, and it would be nice to have a camp not on a glacier so we wouldn’t have to worry about crevasses. So we dropped our gear at 9:30pm and set up the mega mid tent. So far everything was going very smoothly and mostly according to plan. Starting up Sunday morning Sunday We left camp the next morning at 7am and roped up for the Redoubt Glacier. We generally stayed on the shoulder at 7000ft traversing underneath Solitude and past Easy Mox. Interestingly, we noticed the slab pitches up to the Easy Mox – Solitude col were covered in snow, which meant that might be a viable route option. Also, the northeast ridge appeared to be uncorniced. We kept that in mind for selecting our Easy Mox route. Approacing Redoubt We transitioned between crampons and snowshoes, but never sunk in the snow too much. Within a few hours we reached Redoubt Col and our first sunshine of the day. Beyond the col we unroped and scrambled through the rocky gap between Redoubt and Redoubt southeast peaks. On the other side we traversed steep snow slopes and decided to ditch the snowshoes and poles. As expected, the steep south facing slopes were well consolidated making for very secure cramponing. At the cannonhole We continued to the middle of the base of the south face, then I led the way kicking steps up with both technical tools out. Around 7900ft when the slope angle eased I traversed left over a ridge then continued up on lower angle slopes. By then clouds rolled in and it started lightly snowing. So much for the sunny weather forecast. I think in the Chilliwacks you always have to round the weather forecast a bit worse than expected. I had last climbed Redoubt in 2018, so my memory of the route was a bit rusty. But Nick had just climbed it in summer 2024 and rememberd the route. He led the way up the appropriate gully on the right. (I’m not sure if this is the normal route, but it certainly worked). By 8500ft we encountered a cliff band, and we did a few mixed moves hooking rocks to climb up and traverse left through it. We then encountered a complex set of snow/ice gullies leading up. Nick leading out of the cannonhole In general we climbed up and left, linking gullies together, and the climbing was fun and secure. With umbilicals on the two tools I was always connected to the mountain. Finally we traversed left to a broad gully I remembered with a big cannon-hole rock at the top. We slung a hurn and Nick belayed me across and up into the cannon hole. This section was 5th class in summer but was covered in snow now and no problem. I found a rap anchor under a chockstone and belayed Nick up. I then passed him the gear and he got the honors for the last pitch. Nick climbed over the chockstone and pass through the canonhole to the north face, then led a short pitch up to the summit. I followed, and was blasted with wind. We both topped out at 1:30pm, and wrapped a cord around the snowed-over summit cairn for an anchor. On the summit Our timing was just as planned, to be doing the technical pitches during the warmest time of day. The views were amazing of British Columbia to the north, Bear Mountain to the south, and the Moxes to the east. The wind surprisingly eased up enough that we hung out for 5 minutes admiring the view. Then we started planning our retreat. Nick remembered a rap anchor on the south edge of the summit ridge, but I dug around and couldn’t find it. That’s a common problem in winter. So instead we slung the summit cairn and rapped off that. I think someone climbing in the summer will be surprised to find that anchor there, but in the winter it’s just as good or better than a snow bollard. Downclimbing the south face The rope barely reached the gully below. From there we slung another horn and did one more rappel down our ascent gully. We then downclimbed unroped, following our up tracks. The temperature felt surprisingly pleasant on the sunny south face with no wind, even though it was probably in the teens. We traversed back over the rock col, and then entered the shade. The wind picked up and it got significantly colder. We roped back up at Redoubt col and returned back to camp through heavy wind that at times jostled us around. That was unfortunately not in the forecast. We got back by 7pm for a 12 hour day. We had removed the poles from the mega mid tent and dropped it down to the ground so it wasn’t affected by the wind, but we knew it might struggle once we put it back up. So we spent an hour building solid 5ft tall snow walls around the tent. Fortunately the snow was compact enough to make excellent bricks. After melting a few liters of water we stuck in our earplugs to help with the flapping tent noise and soon got to bed. Hiking back to camp Monday Easy Mox was the crux of the trip and we knew it would require more techincal climbing. The temperature was still supposed to be cold, so we planned to hit the technical climbing during the middle of the day for maximum warmth. Based on the conditions we’d seen Saturday with the uncorniced NE ridge and snow leading to the col, we planned to climb the standard NE ridge route. I think the West Ridge might have been faster and more direct, but having never climbed it before it seemed like a lower chance of success with too many unknown variables. Approaching the first pitch to the NE ridge We left camp at 7am again and broke trail over our windblown tracks back to the Redoubt Glacier. We kicked steps up to the edge of a bergschrund below the Solitude-Easy Mox col and ditched our poles and shovels there. I don’t recall this bergschrund existing in 2018, so it appears the glacier has been receeding significantly. Luckily there was a good snow bridge on the right side, but I bet late season that is difficult to cross. I took the first pitch, crossing the bergschrund ont the right then traversing way left to a rock outcrop to get a piece in. The snow got very thin at times on the slab, and I was careful to work around those sections. We shortened the rope to 15m for efficiency and simul climbed up, always making sure to have a piece between us. I eventually topped out at the col and belayed Nick up. Starting up the northeast ridge looking back towards Solitude Amazingly, there were fresh mountain goat tracks leading up the ridge in the snow! They came from farther towards Solitude, but I’m not sure how the goat accessed the ridge. The lower ridge was covered in deep snow but was not corniced. I know that will likely change later in the winter, as I observed last February. In summer the ridge is class 3/4 and easy to scramble solo, but there was enough snow and ice that we decided to simul climb it. We lengthened the rope a bit and Nick took over, trying to always keep a piece of pro between us. The ridge was very fun, with great views of Hard Mox and Lemolo to the left and Lake Ouzel down to the right. The wind occasionally blew the rope over the ridge, and I had to be careful it didn’t get snagged. There were a few sections we stopped to belay, and I think the winter route differed from the summer route here. Nick leading the crux pitch Near the summit we dropped down to the south face to avoid a few gendarmes, and the slabs were well-covered in consolidated snow. This was an area we had been concerned about, but it turned out to be no problem. We finally reached the base of the crux pitch to get back on the NE ridge. Nick offered to lead, so I belayed him off a slung horn. The pitch was melted down to rock, so we climbed in crampons with the tools holstered. Nick ended up leading the whole way to the summit, and I followed. The pitch felt like M3 and was the crux of the route. By 1:30pm, right on schedule, we topped out. It was amazing to finish my last winter Chilliwacks peak, and conditions had been perfect. We paused in the pleasant conditions to admire the view over to Hard Mox. Interestingly, this time the whole upper route on Hard Mox was melted down to rock. When Nick and I had climbed it in December 2023 it was plastered in rime ice and completely white. We soon started planning our descent. We had originally planned to descend the NE ridge route, but that sounded sketchy now, requiring simul downclimbing long sections of ridge. It reminded me of descending the west ridge of Forbidden Peak in winter. That took just as long down as up and demanded a lot of care. On the summit of easy mox Another option, though, was to rap down the southeast face to the col of the wild and hike back from there. That sounded like a much faster and safer way down, and gave us a better chance of getting off the mountain in the daylight. Nick had just climbed the southeast face in summer 2024 and remembered it well. That was the fastest and safest option, so we went for it. Downclimbing the southeast face From the summit we soloed down to an existing rap anchor, then rapped down to our slung horn that we’d left our packs at. From there we did a somewhat complicated and non-obvious route of traversing, downclimbing, and traversing back between different snow gullys. If Nick hadn’t recently done that decent I wouldn’t have tried it, but he remembered it well. We soon reached an anchor and rapped down over an ice bulge. We had to leave one new anchor to rap a short distance to a ledge, then were able to traverse across back above the col. We did one more rap off an existing anchor to a lower ledge, then Nick tunneled a path through the snow on a very exposed ledge. Finally we downclimbed a short 5th class step and got back to the col. Hiking into the sunset It took about 2.5 hours down, and we still had daylight. We traversed around back to Redoubt Col as the sun set, then followed our tracks back to camp a few hours after sunset. The wind had shifted to the north, so I spent some time fortifying another snow wall, before we went to bed. Tuesday We wanted to be back to the boat Tuesday early enough so we would have time to paddle out if absolutely necessary. So we were were up and moving by 4am. We made good time back to Silver Lake, which by now was scoured down to ice in the heavy wind. At the outlet we picked up our tracks and cramponed back down, reaching the 3400ft basin by sunrise. The bushwhack out went smoothly following our tracks, and we managed to exactly find our stashed hiking boots without issue. Back to the boat. Just a little bit of ice nearby After the cabin it felt great to switch back into the hiking boots, and we were back to Ross Lake by 11:30am. We ate a quick snack at the picnic table, then headed back to the boat. Boating out There were a few patches of shoreline north of the boat covered in ice, but luckily the area near the boat was ice free. Our strategy of landing in the deeper water had paid off. By 12:30pm we had the boat loaded back up and we pushed off into the lake. Interestingly, the lake level appeared to have dropped by a foot or so in a few days we’d been out. I rowed out until we were well-away from stump danger, then tried to start the motor. This time it started after only ten pulls! I think it helped that it was the warmest time of day, close to freezing, and the propane and motor had been heating up in the sun a while before we got there. Carrying the motor back up the trail The lake was completely calm, and we cruised down making excellent time. After a few hours, though, the wind started picking up between Ten Mile Island and Rainbow point. I guess it’s not possible for every single star to align on a winter Chilliwacks trip, but they almost all did. The waves got big enough to spray us as they hit the boat, and I steered us closer to the east bank just in case we needed to escape to shore. But the waves stayed manageable, and we made steady progress. I definitely appreciated the dry suit. Finally by 4pm we cruised through the water fence and landed on shore. We each did a bunch of jumping jacks to warm up, and stripped off our soaked dry suits. We made fast progress pulling the boat back up Frontage Road, then double carried the gear back up to the truck by 6:30pm. All my mouse traps were empty, so I think the mice have different winter foraging grounds. We were soon driving back home at a surprisingly reasonable hour. The trip had gone amazingly according to plan. Gear Notes: Zodiac boat, 60m rope, rock pro to 2" included hexes (very important for icy cracks), two tools, snowshoes Approach Notes: Boat up Ross Lake to Silver Creek, bushwhack to Silver Lake, hike to base of peaks

Polish goes in “easier-than-usual” condition. Get it before it’s swiss cheese.

Trip: Lincoln Peak - Southwest Face Trip Date: 01/29/2025 Trip Report: Lincoln! A peak that had been haunting my subconscious for decades, always taunting me on clear days as I drove home from work across the Skagit flats. Try as I might, I could never completely ignore it. It didn't help that it was on "Dallas's Difficult Ten" list, or that by a few years ago, it was the LAST one on the list for me to climb. By 2023 I had tried and failed on it with @kmfoerster. By the end of 2024 I had turned 50 and figured I may as well get on with some long term climbing goals. It didn't hurt to learn that @geosean also had this one peak to go on his run at the Difficult Ten, nor that @Trent was within one peak of finishing as well (South Hozomeen- he's looking for partners!). That, coupled with seeing "Lincoln" on @therunningdog's whiteboard, planted the seeds in my brain to make it happen in 2025. As @Trent would say, "It must be climbed!". And then last week we got a window and hatched plans to give it a go on Wednesday as a day trip. This was going to be a bit ambitious, we knew, and I would be lying if @Lucas Ng's TR didn't make me think maybe too ambitious? There would only be one way to find out. We started, as all good mountain trips do, with a home cooked meal with my family and @therunningdog. My son admonished us to start early for the Middle Fork so we could "get a workout in before bed". Tim and I declined and delayed as long as possible. It was cold out there! But we did eventually find our way to the Middle Fork about 9pm, settling in to a bivy at the Elbow Lake Trailhead to meet @geosean at 3:45 the next day. Sean was right on time and we bounced our way up the rough spur to where continuous snow started about 3500'. By the time we got geared up and rolling, it was about 4:15. From here, the day was pretty much a blur. We got to treeline a bit before sunrise, which was spectacular on the Twin Sisters Range We snowshoed from treeline over to the glacier where we ditched them and the stove and switched to harnesses, helmets, axe, and crampons. I think I crossed the 'shrund first about 8:30. And then it was game-on for a couple hours up to the summit. Lucas and Cole's tracks were basically gone and we kicked new steps the entire way, running across a few of their rap stations up high. The going was pretty steep the whole way, but conditions were very secure and basically perfect. We kept the rope in the pack and carefully traded trailbreaking duties up the various sections of the climb. What a position! Seward: Approaching the summit: And then, like in a dream, all three of us were at the summit block! It was 10:22am- about 6 hours from the car- meaning things had gone waaaay better than expected. @geosean and @therunningdog on the summit: The views, of course, were staggering. What a small and wild summit, especially in winter! But also, what a descent lay ahead of us. That's why I was a little concerned to see Tim start to downclimb while Sean dug the summit picket out of the snow. Uhhhhh....we're not rapping guys?...... "No Jason, let's go!" And so, I took a deep breath, put on my big-boy pants, turned around, and started down. It was a stimulating descent. Especially in this particular spot: But, by moving slow and steady, we made it safely down about as fast as we had gone up. Tim and Sean had to wait a bit for this mature mountaineer on the descent. I'm not going to lie....it was quite a relief it was to finally get back past the 'schrund and start the slog out! We stopped at treeline for almost an hour to melt snow and admire our tracks on Lincoln. It felt good to be down safe in the sun with a couple of good friends, marveling at the grandeur of the North Cascades. What a day! But January days are not long, and we had a bit of scruffy ground to cover before dark. So the snowshoes went back on, the brains turned off, and down we went. We arrived at the car a bit before 4pm, in the light, to all of the windows intact, a change of clothes, and snacks. It doesn't get much better than that..... Edit- Well, we could have remembered beer. THAT would have been better. Oh well, can't always have it all! Gear Notes: snowshoes (in winter), crampons, axe, helmet, second tool. We brought a rope and pickets but didn't use. Approach Notes: 4x4 will get you to 3500' or so up the spur.

Trip: Serendipity on Dragontail Trip Date: 01/29/2025 Trip Report: In the afternoon of January 28 myself and Koby Yudkin skinned up Eight mile road to the Stuart Lake trailhead. We elected to stash our skis in the bathroom at the trailhead and hoofed it up to Colchuck lake, albeit in good time. We walked across the frozen lake and posted up in the trees near the toe of Dragon tail around 1900, approximately four and a half hours after leaving the car. The temperature inversion that evening made the bivy quite pleasant, and as we set up our tent we joked that we may in fact have come to visit the “colchuck spa” instead of going climbing. Alarms set for 0500, sleep rapidly ensued. We left the tent the following morning at 0640 and arrived at the base of the route about an hour later. Racked up, shortly before 0800 Koby led us off on what we thought was the Cotter-Bebie. It turns out we didn’t boot high enough on the pass, and began up a weakness somewhere in-between the start of Gerber sink and that of Cotter-Bebie. Blissfully unaware, or just excited to be in the ‘pine on a good weather day, the ~1000ft that we climbed before traversing left into the main upper snow field proved to be enjoyable climbing. From the ground, about a rope length links two snice filled corners and continues to a snow field where, at the top, Koby brought me up on a short KB. (P1) Above: Koby leading off on the first pitch. From here, 30 feat in an unconsolidated snow filled corner with smatterings of ice on the side got us to another snow field. No protection on this pitch, but the belay was inspiring; number 1 & 2 BD ultralights. (P2) Above: Nate beginning P2 Next Koby surmounted a collapsing snow moat into a small chimney, and up through a runnel to a good stance. I managed to avoid the chimney on this pitch with some stem moves followed by steep snow/neve to the runnel. (P3) Above: Nate coming up the runnel on P3 From the belay, I lay-backed a left facing corner for a couple moves and traversed left into a right facing Neve filled corner. Following this corner up and out to the right led me to an easy moss/ice filled runnel. We had to simul a bit this pitch to find a stance that protected the belayer from the ground to follow. (P4) Above: Koby topping out the runnel P4 Koby came up, munched a snack, and took off into a steep, rather imposing looking chimney feature about 30 feet from the belay. He managed to shuffle his way up, despite his…large…backpack, slung a tree about another 30 ft above the chimney and brought me up. This pitch was our first crux, which I followed free with hand jams, hooks, torques, scraping and grunting while contorting myself to fit the feature. (P5) Above: Koby snacking and sorting. After joining Koby atop the fifth pitch, I led up another mixed corner, traversed right across a slab and up a snow filled gully to find a protected belay on the right, putting the belayer out the the firing line for pitch seven. (P6) Above: Nate on the start to P6 Koby delicately made his way up through two bulges here. Good pro, mediocre feet, hooks and slots, and some alpine trickery brought him to a 4 piece belay in a large left facing chimney about 40 meters above me. I followed this pitch free at what felt like M6+/M7. (P7) Above: Koby on P7 From here I scraped my way left out of the chimney. A few insecure moves off the belay put me in a good spot where I could stand and make a plan to weave my way up through some slabs. I trended generally up for 15 meters through slab terrain with a good pin for protection, and then 15 more meters up and left where I slung a tree to bring Koby up. From this belay we got our first view of the fin. (P8) When Koby joined me at the top of P8 it was around 1500 and the sun was getting low, and set to dip below the horizon around 1700. We made the decision to traverse the snow field and exit into the bottom of the third couloir of Triple Couloirs in the interest of time. Two rope lengths of traversing up and left through the main snow field brought us to the easy, but difficult to protect, rock bit to gain TC. As Koby made his way up the last bit of mixed climbing, I admired the alpenglow. Once in the couloir we put the rope away and booted to the top. We arrived around 1740, snacked, un-racked and made our way down to the col and out of the building wind. Above: Koby exiting into TC. Above: Nate soaking up the sunset. We stomped back into our camp around 2000, brewed up, packed our things and made our way back across the lake and down to the trail head. After wrestling frozen ski boots back on to swollen feat, we skid Eight mile road back to our car and arrived shortly before midnight. Gear Notes: 70m single, 3 KBs, 2 beaks, set of small brassies, misc. nuts, a black totem, singles in Camelots from 0.3 to #3, 6 alpine draws, 3 quick draws. Approach Notes: Standard approach from the bottom of Eight mile road.

Well it wasn't the radness that took place on Sloan Peak that weekend but with the great high pressure, Cole reached out to me about climbing Lincoln. It's been on his mind for a while and given that he was willing to do Nooksack with me over the summer, I figured I'd take him up on the offer. A flu and vacation had also meant I hadn't done something hard for a while so with a lot of stress from highschool, I decided I needed to get a little scared. I skipped the afternoon on Friday to beat the traffic up to B-ham and enjoyed a nice afternoon of trying to get caught up on schoolwork at Coles place while he was working. Once Cole was done, we did a little last minute supply-grabbing and packing before we met up with Fletcher to get a little beta. assuming it would be a quick approach to camp, we decided on leaving Bellingham at 7:30 to be at camp early afternoon. Saturday morning we leisurely took our time getting out of Bellingham. We passed the turnoff for FS 38 but eventually found our way back and made our way along the road. The road was bad but easily subaruable until the 3rd switchback, where large ruts made us park our car and start walking at 10am. I was still in a poor mood but forced myself to shut up and walk, knowing this was what I needed. The road eventually got bush-wacky but soon enough we were climbing a dense forest. Instead of going into the basin, we climbed up to the ridge along the Deming glacier and booted to around 5800' where it opened up to great views of Lincoln. From here we skinned to 6050' and set up camp by a stand of trees with a great view of Lincoln The night was rather uneventful other than Cole spilling his pasta bolognese in his sleeping bag. Luckily we both brought an extra meal so instead we just enjoyed what warmth there was to our sleeping bags(my MYOG one did surprisingly well) and thought about the next day. A decent 3:50 wakeup got us out of our bags and we traversed over to the base of Lincoln on our flotation devices(hardboot splitboard for me, ski's for Cole). From here we did about 1500' of booting before stashing our skis a little before the bergschrund. Unroped, I lead the bootpack up to the the mostly filled schrund. It wasn't too deep and it was angled but it still wasn't something you want to fall into. Feeling in my element, I tried to cross, watching my foot punch through slightly. I tried to go to the left with the same result before finding a small little step that I climbed over to the right. From on top of this packed snow step, a trusty big step got me across the schrund and onto a steep snow/ice ramp. I was confident on the terrain so I kept moving up. I continued most of the way up the steep snow/ice ramp before Cole called for me to rope up. From here we simuled with me in the lead, trying to have 2 of our 8 pickets between us at all times. One simul block brought us to the base of the X couloir where we took a break before I set off on a second lead. The X couloir was much chiller than expected, possibly due to the snowy winter conditions. From the hogsback at the top of this, I lead a 3rd simul-pitch to the summit. The snow on the climb was wallowy but not horrible. Pickets went in easily with a hand however, so I viewed them more as mental pro. After running out the last 60meters, we hit the top at noon. views were great but with these D10 peaks, we knew we were only halfway done. IMG_6959.mp4 Though I opted to down-climb, Cole was pretty tired and unsure of his condition to down-climb so we dug a deadman on the summit, pulled out the tagline, and left the first of our pickets. We found 3 sling-able rock anchors in the X couloir and by 3:30 we were on top of the waterfall with our final picket. By now the sun was on the face and with small ice chunks coming down, we just wanted flat ground. We were only able to pound in the picket halfway and mid-clip it so after backing it up with a marginal ice screw, I very nervously set off over the edge, extremely relieved to see that the ropes reached. From here it was a mediocre snowboard down the bottom half before a quick slog to camp, arriving at around 4:30 right before sunset. Realizing our two-day itinerary wasn't happening we settled in for the night. My MSR reactor burst into flames but after warming it in my bag for a little bit, it started working again and after a night of shivering, we were moving around 9 the next morning. 2.5hrs of skiing, survival skiing, and cutting through the forest to avoid the mess of slide alder later, we were back at the car. It was a rad yet expensive peak. I'm glad to never have to do it again but I truly did need it and am feeling much better now. I guess somehow I got what I came for.

Trip: Mount Baker - Coleman Deming Trip Date: 01/12/2025 Trip Report: @dberdinka and I have been skiing together a bit more than normal this season and a few weeks back I offhandedly mentioned that I would like to climb/ski Baker in the winter sometime. Turns out, Darin had been thwarted a couple of times prior and was still interested in making it happen. It didn't take much convincing to hatch a plan during the first part of this long January drought.....and one Sunday morning we found ourselves driving unusually far up the Glacier Creek road (for midwinter), parking a little less than a half mile from the summer TH. We opted to go up Grouse Creek, figuring that the avy swath would allow for skinning a bit lower than if we followed the summer trail. Not sure if this was true, but it was what we did. The higher we got, with windier it became, with worse snow. But no matter, we weren't here for the skiing and we made good time to camp at 7k in a wind scoop on the glacier. @dberdinka had brought his fancy 'mid and this proved perfect to hunkering down out of the wind while being able to melt snow in relative warmth. Brandy and whiskey didn't hurt either. Nor a lot of insulated clothing. Did I mention the wind? Baker was being stripped of all loose snow right before our eyes and I was a bit apprehensive about our chances if the wind didn't calm down. But in the 'mid, with a lot of food and spirits, the vibes were good- the wind was a problem for another day- and we had 16 hours to kill! A nice sunset and full moon lent a nice touch to the evening. The long night eventually ended, with both Darin and I catching a bit of sleep and staying pretty warm overall. But it was time to poke upwards and into the wind and so we plodded slowly out of camp in the dark at about 0630. As the day began to break a lenticular formed over the summit and then lowered almost to the col. Uh oh, this wasn't in the forecast! The wind continued to howl and we dug a hole in the glacier to wait and discuss our options. I was pretty sure I wanted nothing to do with climbing up into a lenticular (bad experience on Hood 25 years ago), but @dberdinka wisely pointed out that we may as well go until we couldn't safely, and the forecast was favorable. Maybe it would evaporate? We were getting cold after stopping for a long while and so we packed up. And, much to my amazement.... as we stiffly began to plod upwards again, the lenticular vanished! But it remained quite windy- maybe steady 30 with gusts to 45? I was getting cold and scared but @dberdinka seemed to get more optimistic the more unruly it got with wind and spindrift. He was in his element! Sensing that I definitely was not in my element, Darin memorably asked me, "Well, what did you think it was going to be like climbing Baker in the winter?" Right. Upwards we go! But not with skis. We left them about 9800' at the top of the Pumice Ridge when it became obvious ski conditions were bad and not going to get any better. View into the maelstorm: The spindrift got better as we got higher since all the loose snow was already gone, but the wind remained strong. Still, @dberdinka was right, we were going to make it! We just needed to suffer and not lose heart. But what a wild feeling it was being so high on Baker in the wind and cold! It was just the two of us and I paused a few times on the summit plateau to take it all in, grateful that @dberdinka had pushed me to continue through my discomfort. We reached the summit a bit before noon, feeling like we were standing on the moon. A few quick photos and we began the plod back towards our skis and camp. As expected, the skiing back to camp wasn't anything to rave about, but it wasn't horrible either. Much to our surprise, 15 minutes after arriving back at camp, the summit was lost in another lenticular, showing just how narrow the windows of success can be in winter..... Gear Notes: Normal ski mountaineering kit plus much warm clothing! Brandy and whiskey were helpful as well. Approach Notes: Grouse creek. Could drive within half mile of TH, snow was thin down low but got rapidly better, higher. Mostly carried skis until the avy swath.

Trip: Jack Mountain - Nohokomeen Headwall Trip Date: 01/26/2025 Trip Report: Jack Mountain via Nohokomeen Jan 25-26, 2025 Eric and Ryan 25 miles hike/ski, 8 miles biking 80/100 Winter Bulgers On the summit Jack Mountain is a 9,000ft peak in the cascades and one of the Bulgers peaks, so it’s on my list for a winter climb. The two most common routes on the mountain are the south face and the north face nohokomeen headwall. The south face is a class 3/4 rock scramble that is generally climbed in summer or early fall when it is snow free. The Nohokomeen Headwall is generally climbed in spring when it is a steep snow climb. The route As far as I’d researched Jack had previously been first climbed in winter by Anderson and Wald on Jan 4, 1981 via Nohokomeen. I’d previously climbed the Nohokomeen Headwall route in early June 2018. At that time it was a pure snow climb, and there were problems crossing a bergschrund which usually shuts down the route in summer. While boating back from Easy Mox and Redoubt on Ross Lake the previous weekend I got a good view of the Nohokomeen headwall and it looked like there might just barely be enough snow on it to provide a smooth route to the summit. That route is very steep so requires stable snow, which luckily has been the case in WA for most of the month. Ryan and I decided to go for it before the stable snow window shut. The route involves bushwhacking up May Creek to access the glacier. There are a few options to get to May Creek. The first would be to boat up Ross Lake, and I have a zodiac boat that would work for this purpose. (Note: The Ross Lake Resort water taxi does not run in winter). Biking up highway 20 The other option is to bike or snowmobile 4 miles down highway 20 from milepost 134 closure to the east bank trailhead, then hike or ski from there along the east bank trail to May Creek. Both approaches start from the Ross Dam trailhead. Since I had just been there the previous weekend, I knew highway 20 was snow free, and the east bank trail would also be snow free. Based on my June ascent I estimated 3.5 hours to get to May Creek via biking the road and hiking. Boating would take about the same amount of time, since it takes a few hours to triple carry and drag the zodiac to Ross Lake, and an hour to boat to May Creek. Mostly open forest I had just finished a big boating trip for Easy Mox and Redoubt, so decided to mix things up a bit and instead do the bike approach. We would do an overnight trip camping up on the Nohokomeen glacier since that would give amazing views across Ross Lake. We planned to ski since that would increase fun and the snow on the north aspects would likely be skiable, based on my experience in the adjacent west north zone a few days earlier. Friday night we slept at the Ross Dam trailhead and we were moving by 4:30am Saturday. I estimated that timing would get us to camp in the daylight so we could enjoy the sunset view over the Pickets and Ross Lake. First view of Jack The road was frosty as expected, so we brought mountain bikes for improved traction. The first mile was slightly up hill, but the remaining 3 miles were down and went by quickly. It was very chilly biking in the predawn cold and I wore mittens and my down jacket. After half an hour we reached the East Bank trailhead and locked up our bikes. We hiked up the bare trail in hiking boots and trail runners, and were only slowed down occasionally by a few blowdowns. By 8am we reached May Creek, just after sunrise. I recalled the forest was generally nice and open in 2018, and that was luckily still the case this time. We followed my previous route up to a gap in the cliff band around 4,000ft. There we made a short but steep scramble and found a rap anchor around a tree above. It appeared we were on the standard route. Skinning up the glacier Just above the cliffs the snow started, so we ditched our approach shoes and switched to ski boots and crampons. Around 4500ft the snow finally got deep enough that we could put the skis and skins on. At 5000ft we crested the ridge and got our first good views of the summit. The lower glacier was very icy and cracked up on the right side, and the headwall looked thin, with lots of rocks poking out. But there appeared to be a viable snow route up, as I’d seen the previous weekend. We generally traversed around 5000ft east to May Creek, then skinned up aiming for the left side of the glacier. The cold temperatures and a few wind squalls made us consider sleeping in the trees, but the view would be so much better up on the glacier that we continued with the plan. Sunset views We took turns breaking trail up, and passed through an interesting half-pipe feature before reaching the glacier. There we roped up, and continued up. The left side looked very steep, so we angled more towards the middle of the glacier. Unfortunately up higher we got partially blocked by crevasses, but we found a way through and made it to a nice flat campsite at 7800ft by 4:30pm, right on schedule. The sunset was amazing, and I set up a timelapse with my gopro360 camera as we set up the mega mid tent. The headwall We got to sleep early, and decided to sleep in a bit to climb in the daylight. The forecast lows were in the single digits, and that sounded really cold to be climbing in the dark. But hopefully it would warm up once the sun rose. Sunday morning we left camp at 7:15am and skinned up to the headwall. Unlike in June 2018, when the face was mostly snow, this time there was a cliff band near the bottom that spanned nearly the entire face. There was luckily one narrow snow/ice finger crossing the cliff band, located directly beneath the summit. So we aimed for that. The final push to the summit Just before the wall got steep we ditched skis and switched to crampons. I led the way up with a solid rack of four pickets, cams, nuts, hexes, and screws. One way or another I was determined to find pro on the climb. We each climbed with one technical tool and one straight shafted tool for plunging. I made it through the narrow icy gap in the cliff band, then in general climbed up and right. I made a huge traverse right until just below the low point in the ridge, then climbed directly up to the ridge. In general there were enough rock outcrops that I could get rock gear in between us most of the way, with occasional picket placements. After 3 hours I topped out on the ridge and ran out of gear. So I found a flat area out of the wind and belayed Ryan up on an ice ax anchor. By then we were in the sun, out of the wind, and the weather felt pleasant. Ryan took over and led one last simul pitch up to the summit by 10:45am. Summit panorama We had great views north to Ross Lake, and I could pick out Redoubt and Easy Mox in the distance, where I had been a week earlier. The south face was very snowy, and it looked like possibly-recent avalanches debris at the base. Inerestingly, there were mountain goat tracks on the SE ridge almost reaching the summit! I’d seen tracks near the summit of Easy Mox the previous weekend, and it’s amazing what the mountain goats can climb in winter. I don’t really know if they’d find any food up that high with all the snow though. Downclimbing the headwall We soon simulclimbed back down to the low point on the ridge. From there it made most sense to just downclimb the route, since our 60m rope would require many rappels and leaving lots of gear. I led the way simul downclimbing, placing the exact same gear as before. Skiing out By 12:30pm we were back at the base of the route, and made a quick ski back to camp. After packing up we skied back out, this time hugging the skiers right side of the glacier to avoid all the crevasses. The snow was wind affected and kind of tricky skiing up high, but lower we encountered some pockets of powder. The half pipe was very fun skiing. Back in the woods we transitioned to crampons around 4500ft, then rapped down the cliff and bushwhacked out to the trail by sunset. From there it was an easy hike back to the road, and we biked back to the trailhead by 9:30pm. Gear Notes: Skis, 60m rope, four pickets, rock rack to 2" Approach Notes: Bike to east bank TH, hike to May Creek, bushwhack up

Trip: Mount Harvey - North Face Ramp Trip Date: 01/25/2025 Trip Report: What a nice spell of climbing weather we had to start off 2025! I'm glad that @geosean suggested the NF ramp of Harvey, a climb I had done a couple of times before, but not for a long while. Last time I was on it, it was quite thin and sporty, but the word on the street said it was in fine nick and so plans were hatched to make a trip north and see if Canada was still allowing Americans to enter. @BrettS and Mike rounded out our team and we all met early in Bellingham Saturday morning. I think it only took about an hour and a half, including border crossing to make it to the TH from Bellingham- it is easy to forget what great options exist just a little bit north. The Trailhead was already filling up when we arrived a bit before 8 and we quickly paid the parking fee and started up the dry logging road at something like a dispiriting 650' elevation. It is a bit of a grunt up to the start of the route, but you get good views early on the hike in: In the 13 years since I'd last climbed it, the route has gotten mildly popular and there were several teams in front of us and at least one behind. A steady stream of ice and snow chunks rained down the ramp as we geared up and started off simul-soloing. We had the gear and rope ready, just in case, as @Don_Serl recommends in the link above, but they stayed packed away as we climbed higher and higher with perfect conditions and ample steps to draft off of. I was reminded what a great and pleasant climb it was, in a fine position! But almost too soon, the angle mellowed and we were at the top of the ramp, looking across the steep traverse that guards access to the easy ridge that finishes on the summit. Some times this portion is a crux, but not this day. It was practically a sidewalk and we enjoyed posing for some photos with dramatic views of Howe Sound below: And then we hit the final ridge, sun and views. @geosean walking just below the top: We stopped just short of the summit to eat lunch, take off the technical gear, and admire the excellent views all around. The Standard route on Harvey (our descent) is quite the popular outing on a nice winter's day and we didn't want to be in the scrum on the actual summit. This was a good call on busy Saturday, and we could look south to Baker, Puget Sound, and the Lions in peace: To the west were the endless Coast Mountains, Howe Sound, and Anvil Island: But, a winter's day, even a perfect one, is over too quickly, and we had to begin the descent before we tired of the views and position. The good thing is that the first quarter of the descent is almost as spectacular as the climb: And then it was back to the road, the car, beers, and chips. I think it was less than 7 hours car to car and was entirely one of the more pleasant winter climbs that I have done in years. I hope that it isn't another 13 years until my next visit! Gear Notes: helmet, axe, second tool, steel crampons. If it is in thin shape you may want a rope and some snow/ice pro, but it is also a comfortable solo for a lot of fatter winter conditions. If you need snowshoes it is probably not in great shape. Beware avy danger! Approach Notes: The Lions Trail. Arrive early to get a spot and don't forget to pay!

Trip: Peak Argonaut - NE Couloir (with East Summit) Trip Date: 01/12/2025 Trip Report: Peak Argonaut: North East Couloir (with East Summit). 01/12/2025 Gear Notes: 2 technical tools each 60 m rope 1 picket – did not use Single rock rack up to #2 3 middle sized hexes Nuts – did not use 8 draws 3 pins – did not use Rappel webbing with rings Approach Notes: Snowshoes

Chair Peak North Face Solo + Tooth South Face Solo I woke up at 5am in Seattle, made coffee, and drove over to Alpental. I parked in A7 (which sucks) and headed up at 7am. I got to the base of Chair Peak around 9:30am. Took a few minutes to warm up my hands as the wind had cut through my skimpy fleece layer and I had removed my gloves during the hike. NE buttress looked like it was getting a conga line started and one other soloist went up that way. I was pleased to find no one had started up the North Face yet. After making a delicate move from the snow moat onto the start of the route I started up. The first pitch has a cruxy move where an icy smooth rock bulges for about half a body length. This felt slightly committing to make solo because I felt I wasn’t going to be down climbing that move (I had rope for rapping). But it was easy enough and I was soon under way. The ice felt good with my sticks although it was thin in some parts and I dulled an ice pick by accident. The route had some interesting steep snow traversing on what felt like hollow snow but it was over rather quickly. I summited the North Face around 11am. I got back to source lake around 12:30pm, where I sat around wondering if I should head back to Seattle or make the day more epic by soloing the Tooth. I decided to head to the Tooth to check out my friend’s (Danny Schlitt, Ben Fusel, and Jaro Novak) alpine highline rig and snag the Tooth South Face. I got there around 1:45pm. The booting was chill, with minor post holing. I was stoked to see Danny and Ben each send the highline that they had poured a ton of effort into scouting. Nice work, boys! Such an epic line! The South Face was mostly dry with snow in pockets and sections. I climbed in my boots without crampons and gloveless hands. I summited the South Face of the Tooth with plenty of light to spare. I got back to the car around 5pm. 12.5 miles, 10hrs, 8hrs moving time, 4787ft elevation gain Youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hFm2yetj960&ab_channel=DavidBlaszka I forgot to turn my GoPro on until after the 1st pitch of climbing (and the crux), but at least I have this footage. Looking up the 2nd pitch. Looking down from the North Face pitch 3? Summit of Chair Peak. Danny cruising on the Tooth highline. Another angle. Ben making the send in socks! Looking down the Tooth. Me summiting the tooth in my heavy bag. Top of the Tooth

Trip: Long Mountain - West Route via Marten Creek Trip Date: 01/18/2025 Trip Report: The January 2025 Drought continues! In times like these, the desperate turn to Kloke's Winter Climbs guide, self published by Dallas in the mid 90s. I recently picked up a copy of my own and began perusing for a reasonable winter day scramble for the mature mountaineer. And I stumbled upon Long Mountain, which I had never heard of until about a week ago. But no matter, @cfire long gave up on trying to judge the merits of my ideas and so it was an easy sell to convince him to give it a go this past Saturday. And... dare I say, it was better than expected? But maybe that was just the beers afterwards at the Mountain Loop General Store (back open!). Or maybe the summit whiskey that clouded my perception. Still, what's not to like about the sublime position, an exposed finish, and solitude on a windless winter's day? 1912 Doug Fir test plot along the Marten Creek Trail: This is what @cfire came for: Or maybe this was it? (Jumbo, Big Bear and Three Fingers): A lovely finish: Yeehaw! Three Fingers East Face....Paging @lunger and @danhelmstadter: Pilchuck and the Olympics: East to GlacierL Mind the exposure on the way down: Not fun: Fun: Gear Notes: ice axe, crampons, helmet. Approach Notes: Marten Creek trail for a couple miles and then choose your own adventure to get into the west basin. Follow your nose up to the exposed finish for the last bit.

Hey @Lucas Ng! @geosean@therunningdogand I climbed Lincoln today and were able to bring down 3 rap stations including a couple pickets. I'll shoot you a PM with how to get the stuff... thanks for the added inspiration to get it done.... it's been on the list too long!

Today Alan and I got to climb the ice out along Hannegan Pass trail at the base of the north aspect of Sefrit. We had a 70 meter rope and climbed it in three pitches. Ice varied from plastic and beautiful, to thin (stubbies useful), to layered and brittle. It was a full mix of conditions but the angle isn’t bad. We rapped down on threads and avoided the shenanigans on the treed ridge that people have used in the past. It was an excellent day out. Feeling very fortunate to get on some Washington ice while we have it.

Trip: Colfax Peak - East Ridge Trip Date: 01/18/2025 Trip Report: Me, @Albuquerque Fred, and Mike (the 3 amigos) climbed Colfax Peak on Saturday the 18th. We camped at the trailhead and woke up early enough to be able to get beers and dinner at Graham's in Glacier that afternoon (this alleviating thys of the need to eat and food on route). Which was good since it was so cold none of us really ate or drank anything all day. We were able to drive to maybe .5 miles from the summer TH before we stopped at the snow park berm. Others chose to drive past this but I believe it is bad form, the snowmobilers are our friends, let's play well together. All users of the outdoors share more than they differ. The Grouse Creek approach worked well, booting for a short time through the forest before switching to skinning. The skin to Colfax Saddle was easy on firm wind packed snow; some areas required ski crampons so we just wore them most of the time. The wind at the saddle was brutal, making the already cold air almost unbearable. We left skis at the saddle and cramponed over the false summit to the true summit of Colfax. We spent 30 seconds, then returned to the skis in the lee of a rock at the saddle. The sun and shelter were amazing, but we had to descend some time, so back into the maelstrom we went. The ski was actually excellent... If you are a connoseur of ski mountaineering skiing, not laps. Firm wind pack, but smooth, with patches of re-worked powder, and, lower, dust on crust. The exit was amazing, 3 hours total from Colfax to the car with a nice long break in the lee. We called it the best skiing on a mid-winter ski mountaineering trip. So in short, excellent***. Cosley-Houston is out, Polish looked ok, but I'm not good enough to knowuch about it. The upper ice ribbon was continuous but narrow: Baker from Colfax: Gear Notes: Skis, ski crampons, crampons, axe, helmet, glacier gear. Approach Notes: Grouse Creek in ski boots.

I have been contemplating the value of writing a trip report for this for the last few months. I have landed on publishing this since it may provide some insight and lessons to the climbing community here in WA and beyond. On 8/30/24 around 1am, Ian and myself headed North from Wenatchee determined to conquer the rarely climbed Wishbone Arete on the South face of Mount Robson. We met my brother, Noah, who was coming from Spokane at around 4:30 am at Lake Osooyos. From there we drove 6 more hours North through Valemount before setting eyes on the stunning South Face of Robson. This is one of the most spectacular mountain scenes I have seen in North America, and certainly the greatest from a paved road. Pulling into the parking lot at 3pm MTN time, we were a bit intimidated by the ~11,000' size of the face, but were confident we could make 5,500' up to the hut that night. This was a big objective for Ian and I, and certainly Noah's biggest challenge to date. A bit after 3pm, we set off on bikes along the 3 mile trail to Kinney Lake. Just on the other side of the lake, we ditched the bikes in the brush and started hiking up the steep forested slopes where we thought the trail to the hut might be located. After around 2,000' of thick bushwhacking, we found a clear climbers trail that I wish we would have located much earlier. The hiking is very steep from the beginning. There are a few low 5th class sections with chains bolted to the rock, and there are massive cliffs below to discourage you from falling. Once on the climbers trail, we charged another 1,000' up to the tree line and emerged on the steep scree slopes leading up to the hut. The trail disappears, but the hut was just barely visible so we knew where to aim for. There are a few more steps with low 5th class climbing and some chains to assist. We are not "aid climbers", so we of course avoided said chains. Some of the cliff bands below the hut looked quite formidable until we were right up to the base of them where a weakness suddenly became visible. Noah's sleeping bag was strapped to the outside of his pack, and at around 6,000' it came loose and tumbled down the steep slopes before going over the edge of the massive cliffs below. We trudged on knowing that a night above the hut (if required) would involve sharing Ian and I's sleeping bags three ways. At around 8,000' just as the sun was setting, we emerged on some easier scree slopes and followed the ridgeline up to the hut. Noah and Ian made dinner while I walked down the start of the traverse trail across the South face in the dark to find a waterfall and filter water. We got to bed around 9pm. Ian and I loaned Noah our puffy's to use as a modified sleeping bag, but none of us got much sleep due to the rats scurrying around in the walls and ceiling all night. We woke up at sunrise, packed up the most minimal kit possible, and started across the South face at around 6am. We intended to reach the summit that night at a minimum, which was guarded by 5,500' of steep and unknown terrain. The trail starts out well-defined but eventually fades as the loose scree gets steeper. The South face is huge, and this seemingly short traverse ended up being around a mile of side-hilling on steep loose scree and ledges. Around 8am, we finally reached an access point to the Wishbone Ridge on it's West side and boy does it look intimidating. Huge rock pinnacles on the ridge that would take days to climb over appear to block access. Nevertheless, we put on our big-boy pants and started upwards to feel things out. After some 4th class to 5.4-ish climbing on the loosest most inconsistent rock imaginable, we got out the rope and the climbing kicked back to vertical. Route finding throughout was just following path of seemingly least resistance. Every time there was a difficult obstacle, we were able to find a hidden gully or ledge to the East or West that would take us around the difficulties and put us right back on the ridge crest. The first 5.6 pitch followed a thin, loose traverse on small foot-holds to a less-than vertical valley in the rock. This led up to a small overhanging roof but there were descent (seemingly) solid handholds above to pull ourselves up and over. After two pitches we took the rope off and resumed the 4th class scrambling as the rock quality somehow got even worse. Worse than Mount Alberta. We eventually found our way up to another cliff with no way around, but an actually decent crack and solid rock. Ian led and was able to finally get in some solid protection for once, which made following much less stressful for Noah and I. This was probably the most difficult pitch of the route, but seemed like the easiest part due the occasional availability of rare pro placements. From the top of this pitch, we cut East to avoid a soaking wet cliff band and ended up finding a moderate gully and a view of the summit rime ice towers. It was around 2pm and we had around 1,500' to go. We could hear enormous avalanches thundering down the South face every 30min or so, but they were mostly obscured in the gullies to the East of the Wishbone. Unfortunately, the last 1000' of the ridge or so seemed to be covered in fresh snow, which makes for exceptionally unstable climbing on top of loose shale. This coupled with the lack of any sort of protection or anchors made for very mentally taxing climbing and we were all tired and hungry. There had not been a flat spot to rest or bivy for at least 2,500'. To make matters worse, as we came around to the East side of the ridge, the Serac's of the summit glacier came into view. We realized that the entire 1.2 mile traverse across the South face was seriously threatened by this overhead hazard, and the avalanches would rip 4000' down the face and destroy anything below. For me, this took retreating back to the hut off the table. That would not have been an appealing option anyways due to the amount of dangerous and tedious terrain we had already climbed. We decided to forgo lunch and push on to the summit in hopes of digging a snow cave to wait out the night. We climbed up the wet and loose gully for around 500' and popped out on the ridge within 1,000' of the summit. We continued upward on loose terrain. The snow build up was getting deeper, and the rock was getting slippery. We soon were using ice tools to find purchase and excavate for any sort of solid hold under the snow. We discussed using the rope, but there was no protection placement available of any kind. Even if a crack could be found for a cam or nut, the shale just broke or fell apart as soon as any pressure was applied. At around 12,500' the angle of the climbing got up to about 60 degrees as we were traversing West around a small cliff band. I decided crampons would make for safer travel and kicked in foot placements in the loose slush to transition. Ian was a ways up ahead and Noah was just around 10' above me and to my Left. Knowing we were at the limit of our abilities, I encouraged him to try and retreat back down to my foot placements and put crampons on. Just then, his feet and ice tool placements gave way, and he started sliding on all fours down the mountain. For the first couple seconds he grunted and tried to self arrest, but finding a solid hold in that terrain is nearly impossible. After a few more seconds he tumbled over the cliff band below and out of view. Knowing that the next ledge was many thousands of feet below, we knew right away that Noah was gone. I said a prayer for him in his final moments and then asked God to give me strength to succeed so that I could live out my life with my family. After a few seconds I yelled at Ian that I thought we needed to get the the summit before dark set in. I put on crampons and climbed up a bit further in Noah's footsteps. Ian reached the ridge crest and dropped me the rope. The only protection would be to have each of us on opposite sides of the ridge so that our body weight would hold a fall. Once I joined Ian on the ridge crest we were about 300' short of the summit. We somehow had cell service and I reported our situation to Jasper NP search and rescue. I told them we would be on the summit tonight, and that we would contact them in the morning. From the crest, Ian led upwards on unstable ice. The climbing got steeper and steeper until reaching a bit over 70 degrees at the crux pitch of the route. It was very unstable climbing, with one pick or one crampon placement frequently giving way. Several times I was saved by only one good placement when the other two slid away. Just below the summit there is a huge rime ice formation. We drove in a basically useless picket placement just below the formation and I led out to the East on very steep and soft snow. Once I was off to the side of the formation, a thin gully appeared just wide enough to allow passage. The rope ran out, and I yelled at Ian to pull the picket and start simul-soloing. After around 40' of climbing up the thin gully, I emerged on the exact summit of Mount Robson just as night fell. I walked over to the other side of the summit hump and belayed Ian the rest of the way up. At that point, once the immediate danger was gone, we finally lent some thought to what had just happened. I knew it was horrible but it was difficult to grasp the ramifications of losing my brother like this. Ian and I were both starving and dehydrated, but I quickly switched to my next objective of getting home to let my family know what had happened and grieve with them. I started down a hundred feet or so in complete darkness towards the direction I assumed would lead us to the dreaded South Face descent route. Luckily after about 3 minutes, Ian confidently yelled at me that this was a horrible idea and we needed to stop for the night. I am very thankful for his assertiveness because it felt like I snapped back to reality a bit and realized that he was totally right, and there was no way we would find the correct route and survive the descent in the dark. We climbed back up to the top and dug a small platform for sleeping bags. I put the rope and my pack down first and my thin foam sleeping pad over that. Luckily the night was calm and cold. There was a lot to consider laying there. Huddled in my sleeping bag, I read Psalms 40-50 on my phone and found a few comforting verses there: Psalms 40:1-5 1 I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. 2 He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. 3 He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in him. 4 Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, who does not look to the proud, to those who turn aside to false gods. Psalm 46: 1-7 1 God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. 2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, 3 though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. 4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells. 5 God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day. 6 Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall; he lifts his voice, the earth melts. 7 The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Sometime after midnight, I was able to get a few hours of sleep due to complete exhaustion. We called SAR around 7am to update our location. They asked if they would be able to send a helicopter to retrieve us to which we agreed. Just after 8am, a helicopter buzzed the summit and made an incredible landing in a tiny saddle just 50' or so below us. We loaded our gear in and flew down to the bottom of the mountain in a matter of minutes. I was very thankful to not have had to take the dangerous and tedious descent route back down. We received a police interview at the ranger station, and a kind ranger drove us down the trail in a side-by-side to retrieve the three bikes. This was certainly the most dangerous route Ian and I have ever done, and honestly is the first one I can say that should never be climbed again. There is just no safe way to climb it. There is next to no protection the entire time and due to the rock quality you are basically just rolling the dice on every hold. The slush over the top made it totally unsafe, but there is not really a feasible retreat from that high on the mountain. On top of the completely insecure climbing, there are massive objective hazards throughout. If you are considering climbing Mount Robson, find another route. It is incredibly beautiful, and I would encourage anyone to try maybe Emperor Ridge or the Kain Face as I have heard much more positive reviews of those routes. This will be my last trip report of this scale, as I am stepping away from serious climbing to prioritize family. None of us have experienced the death of a close family member. We are finding that the only joy can be found through God's promise in the bible that those who believe in him will spend eternity in paradise. Romans 10:9: 9 If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. I am posting this as some sort of closure to my climbing career and to remember Noah. It is hard to describe the impact Noah had on his family, hometown, and group of friends in Spokane here. Back in September we had a funeral ceremony for him at our local church that is captured on video: There are some profound reflections on death, and how this has impacted our family vs how death is viewed by the majority of secular society. I think it did a great job of honoring the incredible work of Noah's life and the impact he had on the people around him.

Thanks to all of you that stick around! Some people believe that the best days of this site are behind us, and its easy to think so. This is the site where Colin as a young guy bummed rides to get up into the Cascades to cut his teeth. This is the place where Cheamclimber was posting TRs climbing in his jeans (IYKYK, and nothing wrong with climbing in your jeans if its all you got). Adding your TR here means bumping shoulders with some of the best climbers the PNW has ever produced. Did you know Mark Twight even posted here (I won't dish on his Cc.com handle)? Anyway, you're up next. I'm super pumped about the TRs and info sharing going down in these forums these days, and I feel like its validation for the reason I have always worked to keep the lights on since I became involved in this community. @Michael Telstad , @Eric Gilbertson both have incredible TRs to share in the past week. @Lucas Ng thats a hell of a contribution for a first TR! @JasonG , my brother from another mother, I think there was a time when you carried this site with your incredible TRs and photos to go with them. Thank you for that and for being (sorry other mods) being my favorite moderator. This isn't an exhaustive list, in fact its a call for you to share your favorite TRs posters in the past year. There have been some great ones, do tell. My other brothers: @rat and @lunger they probably don't want me calling them brothers as they may prefer to hold me at a distance. Over the recent years but also for a long time, a steady trickle of crazy shit that makes me question if they are human. But at the same time I wonder if I'm their son (who is their same age, but genetically at least). And @Jason_Martin and the people he has hired at American Alpine Institute. Man, every time I interact with any one of his people at AAI I'm so grateful. Down to earth, friendly, humble, helpful, and hearts in the right place. All of them. From the accountant, to the gear shop guy, to the kid running the desk. Jason reached out to me to offer to keep the lights on and I am so glad I said yes. Support that guy, he recognizes the value of what we have here! I am so grateful to him and his whole team. So done gushing (not really) but I am super excited by the TRs coming in and the liveliness of the ice climbing thread and the general stoke of the site these days. The best thing you can do it to tell you friends to post here*. For the most part, the more the merrier. While yes there have been good days in our rearview mirror, the thing about a community is that it can grow and thrive, and there always the next young person who can step up. That could be you. And even if it isn't, even the most humble TR can inspire someone to get outside and find happiness. Lets go. Thank you. /porter *provided they are not nutjobs 😂

The people want to see the Nooksack report! You might not qualify, but you should try reaching out to Mark Smiley about getting some cash for those pickets. He sometimes reimburses young climbers a percentage of their bail anchors to discourage rapping off shit gear to save money. ANCHORS LINK

Speaking of Trains, great booter trail from bridge creek to the base of the cliffs. Was a little wet but getting better

She was under mild tension, sure enough, but safely handled. Road is cleared all the way to turnaround before trailhead. It's super rough and enough brush to lightly rake your car but I got my big ol sprinter through if that gives you an idea. I had very limited time so I did the best I could with the brush.

If anyone is thinking of Colfax with this high pressure. As of 1/13 the Cosley-Houston is not formed, though the Polish Route looks like it may have connected. North and east side of Lincoln look like the future of local Alpinism.

oh that's right!!! No, we weren't hiding it from you. No beer, that was a bit of a miss to the day. Will edit. I was mixing up the Harvey trip a few days before Lincoln, where we def. had beer....need to get that TR up tonight!

With nothing to do, decided to go for a “quick” little afternoon mission up roaring ridge and scope out the entrance to the zipper couloir with Emily and Andrew. After dealing with Snoqualmie parking insanity, we got going around 11:15. Going was slow with a little wallowing and breaking trail most of the way but we made it to the entrance around 3:15. After cutting a cornice, we watched a nice big sluff run down. We belayed ski cuts to Emily and Andrew before skiing down. After them, I followed. It was great blower pow and my best line of the year so far. At the bottom we quickly found the XC road and skinned out in the dark. https://lucasfng.blogspot.com/2025/02/zipper-couloir.html cc8a5f9c703f4dbab81e8e092230b266.mp4 4ccaf903c1954a18ac20c495e35a98d8.mp4

Awesome! Hive mind...is this a FA? Either way that is a heck of. climb on a popular rock! Congratulations!

*I'm not sure how to delete a comment so I edited it since Nate posted the TR straight to the forum*

Was just having the discussion of how the Insta-face-things are crap and we should all still post on here with a climbing partner. Doesn't have to be long or fancy, just put it on a site that is driven by community and substance, not profit and time wasting!

So many thanks to you @olyclimber. When the CC landing page turned into a virus riddled porn ad I was fearing the worst. If the day does come that the site has to die (god forbid), all I ask is that we try our best to get it archived like SuperTopo. The amount of history and beta here is invaluable.

Impressive climbing, super impressive logistics, congratulations on completing the crux!

Fred calls it the south spur (p. 197) and says you can stay on it the entire way, no need to detour. He doesn't give it a rating meaning, "Pfffft....easy". Buy the Beckey books people, all of them! The internet will only take you so far in your Cascadian apprenticeship.

I had my zoom camera on a ski up the Coleman yesterday, so I got some pictures of the cruxes for you hardcores. We made the saddle and rode down from there. The glacier skied ok despite being pretty variable, but the best snow was in Grouse. There are some annoying new blowdowns in the forest, but it still went ok on the down. I would prefer the trail up until there's significant snowfall down to the trailhead elevation. You can drive nearly to the trailhead.

Trip: Southern Twin Sisters Traverse - Kloke Peak (register placed), Twin Crest, Saddle Slab, Shirley, Trisolace, Barbara, Nancy, Last Sister Trip Date: 08/03/2024 Trip Report: Ever since our climbing mentor Dallas Kloke died on the Pleiades in 2010, @Trent, @sepultura, @Kit, @John_Roper and others in the local climbing community have been thinking of ways to honor a man who had given much during his 50 years of pioneering ascents in the Cascades and beyond. These dreams became a reality in 2022 with the naming of Kloke Peak (formerly Hayden) in the Twin Sisters Range. The Twin Sisters were near and dear to Dallas's heart and he completed many first ascents in this area over the years (including his FA of "Hayden" in 1972 with Dave Dixon) . The peaks are also visible from his house in Anacortes, adding a bittersweet element to the commemoration. Like all worthwhile climbs, the naming process was difficult, involved and several times seemed to almost come to a complete stop. Imagine my surprise then when I got a call from the Everett Herald on an October morning, deep in the mountains, letting me know that the WA State Board of Geographic Names had approved our proposal. Or, months later when a friend texted me a photo of the Gaia map (below) with "Kloke Peak" prominently displayed on the summit, meaning that the US Board of Geographic Names in Washington DC had also approved our proposal. Surreal. We just needed to get a register up there to really make it official! Fast forward to this summer.... when @Trent and I managed to find three days to get away to the range and place the register. We toyed with the idea of a full traverse of the range (Dallas style!) but the time and effort for that was a bit more than we were willing to undertake in the heat and humidity. So we settled to starting from Green Creek (thanks @dberdinka!), climbing from the cars up through the Cinderella/Little Sister col. We dropped a bit on the backside and cached our gear, heading over to Kloke Peak in the early evening to place the register and marvel at the rugged appropriateness of Dallas's namesake. KLOKE PEAK!: (below) Steve had done an admirable job of prepping the register, complete with laminated photo, newpaper article, Rite in the Rain logbook, and Pelican case. All secured with cord and pitons. Please leave it up there! When the book gets full, bring it down and let me know. I'll be the keeper of it and hike up a new book as needed. After savoring the view for a time, Steve and I headed down to camp at an unnamed lake south of Cinderella. It felt as if we were the first people to camp there, almost no sign of anyone, except for a random rock hammer we stumbled across the next morning as we left camp! Soon after finding the hammer, we began the quest to bag the rest of the peaks south of Cinderella. We knew it would would be a big day, but the heat and humidity made it even more taxing than we estimated. It was a 14 hour+ whirlwind day for us to climb Twin Crest, Saddle Slab, Shirley, Trisolace, Barbara, Nancy, and Last Sister. There was a lot of 3rd and 4th class along the way, some loose rock, a lot of solid rock, and a bit of head scratching so as to not carry all our gear up and over all the peaks. Sometimes this meant linking improbable ledges on the west side of the peaks. Sometimes it meant backtracking after scrambling a peak by the "easiest" path. We had left the rope behind in a effort to save weight, but I would have been happy for it on the "easy" route up Trisolace (photos of it way below). This was probably very exposed 4th or low fifth terrain, but we couldn't see an easier way, even on the way down. Careful there! Also careful on the summit ridge of Trisolace. I dislodged a large rock right at the summit and it nearly took me with it. As it was, it pinned my leg and @Trent had to come over quickly, and carefully roll it off and down the mountain. Whew! I sat for a time getting my heart rate and breathing down, cursing myself for letting my guard down, even for a moment. It was not lost on me that this was the same type of accident that took the life of Dallas. Steve on Trisolace. I eventually got up the gumption to follow him: Me, a few minutes after my mishap with the large rock: And somewhere along the traverse: The day wore on and we got further and further south and farther from Kloke Peak: As the sun dipped towards the west at last we were on the Last Sister, looking down at the Step Sister. Steve had already climbed it, but I hadn't. Camp looked so close at Heart Lake (it wasn't, as we would soon find out). There was a brief period, as we neared the col between the two peaks, that I considered heading up and descending to camp in the dark. But then I slipped, fell, and went into full leg cramps on both legs! My day was done, I was totally spent. And so we went down surprisingly far to the surprisingly rugged Heart Lake, barely finding about the only decent campsite on the west side of the lake as the light failed. Step Sister as we hike down to Heart Lake: Our camp at Heart Lake the next morning: The next day was going to be a long one (14+ miles) and hot, so we didn't have much time to rest after the marathon peak bagging tear the day before. As the sun came up we were soon moving down through the brush below Heart Lake to an old logging spur that took us down and across the South Fork Nooksack. Here, we grabbed the PNT and followed the elk up valley, surprising a trail crew along the way that hadn't seen many people in awhile. Sort of as we expected, it got really hot as we hit the Elbow Lake trail up and over the ridge back to our car. But we had beer stashed in the river and chips in the car. It could have been worse! I would really like to hear of others' stories of climbing Kloke Peak. Even if you don't post up a TR, feel free to post your experiences in comments below! Gear Notes: Ice axe, helmet, leather gloves. Many will want a rope on Trisolace. Footwear and clothing you don't care about. Approach Notes: In Green Creek (thanks Darin!), out Heart Lake and PNT to Elbow Lake and back to Middle Fork Nooksack.

Trip: Illumination Rock - West Ridge Trip Date: 01/18/2025 Trip Report: Damon and I went up the West Ridge of Illumination. We got to the West Gable quite easily but the rime mushrooms along the ridge were uninspiring. Here are some pictures... Gear Notes: Not much was useful. South side routes would take rock gear. Lots of rime on North side. No ice sufficient for screws was observed. Approach Notes: Standard

your in luck im on my way! making a west face attempt this sunday and i cant have anything holding me back! im far too out of shape 🤣

Holy shit. Polish hadn’t even crossed my mind. Any pictures of Kimchi Suicide?

I’ve had little to no motivation for TR writing this last year, but figured I should try and get this story out into the world before I forget some of the fun details. Last April Eli Spitulnik and I flew onto the Ruth Glacier with about five weeks of food. We hoped to stay there until it warmed up, then bump to the Tokositna to do some climbing on Huntington. We got deposited right next to a very cold and dejected Brit and Slovene. The winter cold was still holding on strong, with nightly winds burying our camps regardless of how recently it snowed. Tom and Gasper had been there for about a week already and spun tales of vertical sugar snow and towering snow mushrooms. Their attempts on Blood from the Stone, and the direct start to RGG were valiant, but fruitless. Huge thanks to basecamp gear sponsor Kurt Ross. Chamonix style storm day skiing with Tom and Gasper. Who needs a pack anyways? Scouting. After almost two weeks and various attempts on other routes, we began skiing towards the SE face of Bradley at about 3 in the afternoon. Along for the ride was 3 days of food and a rack suitable for El Cap. Our intended line would start on Vitalogy (Zimmerman/Allen 2010) to gain the hanging snowfield in the middle of the face. Once there, we would climb more or less straight up the center of the face intending to finish in a couloir that would take us to the summit ridge. Day 1.) Following the same night climbing method as Graham and Mark, we hung out below the face as it went into the shade. Watching and listening as it calmed down for the night. Once things fell quiet, we began up the approach ramp. At the end of the ramp was a cave guarded by a 25ft tall overhanging mushroom. Still in simul mode, I fiddled in a small nest of gear and began pulling some steep mixed moves to surpass the overhanging portion of the shroom. From off to the side and around a corner 60m away, Eli heard a faint “watch me!” as I hung my pack off a beak and committed out onto the face of the shroom. Kicking myself for leaving the picket at camp, I beat the mushroom into submission until I was able to flop over and into the cave. Downclimbing from a gear cache on an early "false start". The weather changed and we decided to retrieve our rack the next morning and pivot to a different objective. The start ramp continues out left. Eli mantles onto my pack before stepping out right onto the mushroom. The next few pitches were some of the most brilliant mixed climbing I’ve done outside of a crag setting. A perfectly splitter slightly overhanging #4 crack, and short pendulum took us out towards the lip of the cave, where ice blobs allowed for an easy exit. A pitch of junky slush and a short traverse (dubbed M5R in the Vitalogy topo) took us to the M6 turf flakes pitch. A wonderfully long series of dirt filled grooves and flakes just frozen enough to get good sticks. By the time Eli made it up to the belay it was officially dark. Eli pulled on his rock shoes and took the lead. He took us out right up a well protected corner that gained a pillar, then up and right out into the slabs below the snowfield. Following in my crampons, I scratched my way up to the most heinous hanging belay. Balancing on crystals in my mono points I belayed as Eli swapped back into boots and began a long extremely runout traverse crossing fingers of barely refrozen snow over slab to gain the snowfield. Desperately sliding out of glassy fists. Delicious blobs Glorious turf At one point while readjusting to keep my legs from falling asleep I turned around to see the sky erupting in green and purple stripes. I shouted into the darkness to look at the sky. A distant hoot followed a moment later and I began lowering out the bags. The rest of the night was a blur of unprotected wallowing up crusty sun-baked facets in an attempt to reach the prow bivy before sunrise. Staring at the rope snake off into the darkness I weighed my options of preparing to unclip in the event of a fall, or try and catch a 120m whip. We arrived at the bivy just before sunrise. My perception of time is beginning to slip. Day 2 After a restless few hours festering in the tent listening to wet slides, we began prepping for another night of climbing. This time we would be leaving behind the comfort of previously traveled terrain and entering an unknown world. Bailing from above the snowfield while likely not impossible, would have been a bad time. More sparsely protected snow climbing took us up to a flared and wet crack feature that Eli dispatched fairly easily in his rock shoes. From there a few pitches of engaging mixed climbing took us to what I expected to be the crux of the route. From photos, a large snow plastered double corner system seemed to be the most obvious way, but it would likely involve some gross aid climbing tactics. We arrived below the feature in fading light as night two began. It looked so much worse up close than from afar. In a last-ditch effort to find an alternative, I traversed left looking for anything else. As I swam my way around the corner, a pillar revealed itself with a perfect wide crack and thin seam alongside it. It didn’t entirely look like it went all the way, but it was a good next step. With high hopes I began trying to free climb my way to the top of the pillar. The climbing was wonderful, but as soon as my feet began to skate off the sloping edges, all style went out the window. I took my crampons off and went full aid mode. From the top of the pillar, the seam kept going as the angle lessened. A mixture of direct aiding off of my tools and free moves on massive granite jugs took me to a generous belay stance. We were likely through the hardest pitch, but still had a lot of mountain above us. Some slab climbing in double boots took me to a delaminated slabby smear of ice. I equalized two garbage beaks and put my crampons back on. Despite my best efforts at being gentle, my beyond dull picks threatened to send me, and this detached smear down the mountain as every kick and swing bounced off. The next several pitches were a lesson in route finding as Eli took us up down and around to the main gut of the face above. I still don’t know where the best way to go was, but a diagonal rappel and some faff took us where we wanted to go. The sun began to rise as we entered a massive funnel that was invisible in the pictures we had. Afraid we’d be swept away if we lingered too long, we shifted into gear and made it to a semi protected bivy before anything had a chance to warm up and start falling. The massive snow choked chimney is visible in the background. When in doubt, traverse. Another restless day of napping came and went without any surprises. At this height, the mountain was much quieter and felt less affected by the sun. At some point in the day, Eli was awoken by a loud rumbling from over in the direction of Mt Wake. He mumbled 6/10 and rolled over back to sleep. A shovel would have been nice. Day (night?) 3 We started climbing at about 5:30 with several pitches of quality mixed and neve climbing. At some point I was pounding a pin when the hammer of my tool snapped off and flew into the abyss. Mildly perturbed I shrugged and continued bashing the hopelessly bottomed out beak with the back of my tool. All around the same time, the sun set, the snow began to fall, and the trenching began. Juuuust enough ice. After a long cold belay, I took over the lead and made one of the biggest rookie mistakes. I had just followed the previous pitch in my down parka but was still chilled, so I chose to start leading the next pitch with it still on. It was some of the most awful steep snow climbing I hope to ever experience. As the snowfall picked up, so did the spindrift. It smacked me in the face and dumped down the back of my parka, melting against my back and freezing the down solid. I was in no position to stop and take my pack off, so just suffered until I could get a belay out of the firing line. One block later we made it to a sheltered flat spot and decided to call it a day. We knew the storm was going to be short lived, so opted to wait it out and continue when we had a better idea of where we were on the mountain. Beginning another pitch of trenching Spindrift avalanches lulled us to sleep as they scraped over the top of our tent. After about ten hours, the storm seemed to be subsiding. Slightly worried about our skis getting buried at the base, I texted Tom asking if he could go check on them for us. WET Day 4 Two long simul blocks took us to the summit, where swirling clouds gave us brief glimpses over towards Hunter, Huntington and Denali. In an attempt to investigate how overhung the summit cornice was, I tiptoed my way around on relatively flat ground until I could see the other side. I must have taken one step too far, because the next thing I knew I was in freefall. I came to rest about 25 feet down in soft powder with snow filling my glasses. Unharmed, I frantically clawed my way out of the maw. Once free, I damn near fell back into the thing crossing back over to uphill side. Once in earshot of Eli I shouted over to him that I was okay. He just looked at me with a confused gaze that told me he had no idea I'd just fallen. There was so much slack in the system at that point that he didn’t feel a thing. Now I know that summit crevasses exist. Big D showing off. The "let's get the fuck out of here" thumbs up. After a few celebratory summit photos and facetimes with Eli’s family and my partner, we began down. The descent was supposed to be easy, but we knew of a few parties who had epics getting down. It proved to be mostly walking and easy downclimbing. A few easy rappels got us to, and down from the Bradley-Wake col, where we slogged back to our skis at the base. Where's Waldo? How not to back up a V-thread. Upon arrival at our skis, we were greeted with an unexpected sight. ONLY my skis, poles and one skin were stuck in the snow surrounded by evidence of extensive digging and stomping. A ziplock bag with a few jelly bellies and a twix bar were stuck in between the skis. Mildly strung out despite our long sleep the night before, we theorized what could have possibly happened and messaged Tom. 6/10 While repacking, I stumbled across one additional ski buried under the snow, followed shortly by both of Eli’s poles. It wasn’t going to be easy getting back, but at least it wasn’t going to be awful. We limped back into camp at 11:50pm. Happy and ready to lay down for a while. We named our route "sports" due to the ridiculous grade that the route got. Rock climbing, mixed climbing, ice climbing, aid climbing... snow climbing. All the sports. Not to mention the equally ridiculous song "Sports" by the Viagra Boys that kept making an appearance throughout the trip. 3 days later after plenty of rest, we bid Tom and Gasper a farewell and skied over to search for the missing ski and skin. We found the skin nearly 100m down glacier, the ski itself had been blown almost 30 meters from where we left it. Gear drying Style Eli scavenging for leftover food. The lower face had already melted out considerably in the days since we were on it. I'm guessing our traverse to the snowfield on the first day was likely gone the next. That same evening there was an accident on Mount Johnson. The next morning, we woke to the sound of a helicopter and messages from Kevin explaining the situation. We packed up for a rescue, not knowing what would be needed and began skiing down glacier. Clouds were threatening to thwart the helicopter rescue. By the time we got there, Kevin and Louie were already on their way down. We helped coil ropes, feed them and carry back the other party's gear. During our time before Bradley, we attempted “On the Frozen roads of our incertitude” on London tower. Mildly gripped Bailing We successfully climbed “Freezy nuts” to the summit of London Tower First tunnel of the trip Summit of London tower Attempted “Shaken not Stirred” on the Mooses Tooth in a push from our basecamp below Bradley. We made it one pitch from the col but turned around because of continually horrendous snow conditions. 24hrs camp to camp. Crux pitch. Felt like M7 conditions. Ropes going everywhere you don't want them to. Getting psyched to ski back down into the Ruth. After Bradley we flew to the Kahiltna and made a half assed attempt on the Bibler-Klewin on Hunter. Great conditions if you don't mind having no pro. Climbed “It’s Included” on Radio Control Tower 1.5 times. Digging the tunnel through the P2 cornice that was used for most of the ascents throughout the season. A solid 2 hour lead. Weather became continuously poor at the beginning of May, so we escaped while we still had a chance and became the bunk house locals until we could get a ride back to Anchorage.

Looking good up there! M6-7 ain't no joke. Way to get some alpine glow on the skin before the clouds come back through!

Wow! I love your ambition! Inspiring!

I gotta echo what everyone else is saying: Wow!! Yet another completely epic TR. Ruthless, inspiring work. Thanks for sharing such a detailed and thoughtful report, have read it through this few times now and am just blown away by the logistics and the audacity of the climbing and the wildness of the place - absolutely incredible 🫡

Awesome, what dedication to get all those logistics dialed and the actual climbing! Thanks for sharing that!

wow this is EPIC. awesome Eric, thanks for another all time TR!

Whitepine mostly not in but possible to faff around on the ice furthest climber's left

This winter has been a gift to this effort, but wow, that still sounds tough @Eric Gilbertson! Well done!!

Man Eli. I'm sorry for you and your family.

The Zipper is a good one.... Whistler Peak, East gully (bit of mixed 4th to the summit) North Couloir on McClellan Butte (some mixed spice at the top) Big Four, Dry Creek Route (also spicy up high) North Buttress Couloir on Colchuck. Sherpa Peak, NE Couloir (bit of 5th at the very summit) East Face ramp on Harvey up in BC, when it gets fat. Early season there is some ice climbing. Not couloirs...but NF of Maude, NF of Observation Rock East gullies on Mount Angeles in the Olympics. Sort of less moderate, since there is glacier travel (but it is often soloed), Leuthold's Couloir on Hood. The Cascades aren't really known for couloirs, but most everything in the spring has steep snow somewhere on it and could be viewed as a challenge.

id love to this printed and maybe on T-shirt’s too?

Trip: Mount Terror - North Face (Stoddard Buttress) Date: 7/27/2013 Trip Report: The name alone is enough to give one pause, but for our party a planned ascent of the North Face of Mount Terror had special significance. Several years ago the mountain had almost claimed Steve's life in a freak rockfall accident, which resulted in a member of his party spending four unplanned nights in the Terror Hilton. For those that would like detail on the accident and aftermath, Steph has a page dedicated to the event on her site. It was only with fast climbing and a lucky cell phone call placed by Steph and Donn, that Steve pulled through. It took a better part of a year after the event for Steve to heal completely from his many injuries, and soon he talked of returning to Terror. For a variety of reasons (were we all still too afraid?) the return ending up taking four years to materialize. While I don't know what Steve and Gord were thinking, the accident still weighed heavy on my mind as we made plans to head up on a focused mission to climb the North Face of Terror over three days. Though none of us expressed any misgivings aloud, I think we all felt that this wasn't going to be an ordinary climb, though hopefully safe. Knowing that we had a strenuous approach ahead of us on day one, we got a decently early start, stopping at the ranger station en route to the new Goodell Creek TH. The old road was in better shape, brush-wise, than I last remembered it, and about 1.5 hours from the car we were embarking on the dreaded Crescent Creek climber's path. Fortunately for us, this "trail" has seen a lot of use in the last five years and was much, much better than I last remembered it. Even still we had to pay attention to stay on it, but really there isn't much bushwhacking to speak of any longer. Still, with 6K of gain to Terror camp, we didn't exactly fly up. I think it was about 7.5 hours to Terror camp (space for two small tents). The next day we got up at 0400 and were away by 0500 towards the Ottohorn-Himmelhorn col. This was the first challenge of the day and it wasn't that easy in the mid season conditions we found. Hard steep snow, 4th class choss, a couple raps, and some moat action later and we were established on the Mustard Gl. and could begin our weave towards the route. The Mustard was already pretty broken, more so that we were expecting, but we were able to find our way over to the route without too much trouble. The first bit off the glacier was mostly 3rd and 4th class and we scrambled to the left edge of a permanent snow patch and roped up. I'm not sure what time this was, but the approach had taken a long time. Steve led the charge up and left to the crest, gaining it a few hundred feet below the accident site. As a team of three, we had one leader just off the middle of the rope and the two followers behind. This forced us to simul probably more than we would have otherwise, hopefully speeding up the large amount of climbing on this route. While the climbing was pretty easy on the lower buttress, it was steep enough with just enough pro to keep us on our toes. Immediately below the accident site, we did a rap off the crest down to easier ledges to get around a particularly steep step in the ridge (Beckey talks about this). On the way to regain the crest, we ran smack into the "Terror Hilton" and the gear left from the accident. We stopped for a break and quietly contemplated the scene. I have to admit that it was spooky and didn't do much to lighten the mood, considering our position on the wild north side of the Southern Pickets. After a bit, Steve and I grabbed some gear (some still remains) and off we started up into the unknown, past the fall site and above. The buttress began to steepen and we made sure to take our time to keep everyone safe, considering the somewhat sparse pro and looseness (though in general the rock is pretty good). Where the original NF route joins the Stoddard buttress we had to scratch our heads for a bit to figure out the right way (I won't ruin it for you), but we continued to find a moderate way through some hard looking sections. This kept the suspense high all the way to the false summit, and I won't lie to say we were all relieved we joined the standard west ridge route in the evening. The wind was rising and mists were swirling as Steve, Gord, and myself dropped off the false summit and climbed on steep 4th class ground to the true summit. What a summit! The whole summit area looks to be ready to fall down the north face, and you are right in the middle of the crazy fence that is the Southern Pickets. The sun made a brief appearance right before sunset and it was one of the more dramatic summits I can ever remember. All the tension of the day was beginning to wash away, then I looked at Steve who had his phone out, checking for a signal. "No Service", Steve said. Ohhhhhhh, right. It ain't over yet, and the sun was fast setting. We didn't waste much time scrambling down the west ridge until we could make a couple 30m raps into the notch. From here a chossy gully, steep snow, overhanging chockstone rap, and more steep snow brought us back to camp, in the dark, about 17 hours after leaving (in the dark). Although we were too tired to really celebrate, the Canadian Hunter went down real easy with our belated dinners and we just sat and savored the twilight, stars, and Milky Way. We had faced the mountain of our fears and came away intact, in every sense. You alpine climbers know the rest of the story- a late start, looking back over your shoulder at the peak on the deproach, the endless road walk, cotton!, food!, BEER!, loved ones, shower, bed, and the rude alarm Monday morning. Steve concentrates on the Terror Creek log crossing. The big cedar of years past is now underwater. Above the worst of it, but still with a long way to go Feeling it, ~6K above the car. Gord checking out Terror for the first time At Terror camp, the team contemplates the day ahead. Rapping into the Mustard Gl. The Stoddard Buttress is the left skyline. Gordo low on the route, Fury behind Gord at the "Terror Hilton". Not a very welcoming spot to spend four nights. Note the rope that caught Steve's fall in the foreground, and water from the NPS that helped sustain Jason in the background. McMillan Spires Steve and Gord at a belay high on the route. Which way? McMillan Cirque is a wild place. McMillan Spires on left, Degenhardt on right, Inspiration in the middle. Nearing the summit, now climbing on the normal route Looking beyond Picket Pass to the Northern Pickets Steve on top of Terror after a very long journey. Looking down into Goodell Creek, past Terror camp, to Despair (L) and Blum ® Mists swirling around the fence Sunset on the Chopping Block and Triumph Gear Notes: 60m half rope, medium rack, Al crampons, helmet, ice axe, tat, rock shoes (if you don't like 5.7/.8 in boots). Approach Notes: The Crescent Creek Climber's path is getting surprisingly well-defined. That said, you need to pay attention to keep on it. Took us about 7.5 hours to Terror Camp

Chester, At the risk of removing the mystery, here's da beta. It's a superb peak, in a pretty remote place, technically easy and stellar vistas. I climbed it and Deception over a long weekend in July 2008. Camped in upper Royal Basin. Ascended to low point to the ridge running east of Deception summit, then dropped down a steep but doable scree slope into the beauuuutiful Deception Basin. Ascended Mystery glacier on climber’s left (no rope needed). From notch above glacier, it’s tempting to head straight up the ridgeline towards the summit. Do not. Instead, traverse laterally left about 200 feet, then head up. Doing this lets you skirt some tricky blocky benches and steeper snow. No rope needed or pro used on the whole route. Beginners might want a harness and a short bit of rope for 1 pitch of a 4th classy gully right at the top. Helmets: definitely yes. With a start from camp after 8:00am, you could almost leave the ice axe home too. We barely used ours. Times 4.5 hours - car to high camp in upper Royal Basin 8 miles 1 hour - camp to deception Basin 1 hour – basin to head of Mystery Glacier 1.5 hours - head of Mystery Glacier to summit 3.5 hours total: camp to summit 3.5 hours - to return to camp, including 1 hour summit lounge and long break in Deception Basin TOTAL – 7 hours round trip from camp Bear canisters are required for overnight stays in Olympic national park. REI rentals are expensive. The place to get bear canisters is called Wild Birds Unlimited, in the small town of Gardenier WA, at Hwy 101 mile post #276. Call before you go to reserve them for your team. Good food on the drive home is at the Snug Harbor Cafe, a mile or so west of the junction of Hwy 101 and Hwy 20, at the south end of Discovery Bay. Do not camp at crowded, mosquito infested and no views Royal Lake. Instead, go about 1 mile farther to tree line, and look off right of the trail for some large gravel benches near a small tarn that make great group camps. Here’s a slideshow from my ascent of Deception and Mystery. Some slides have route info drawn in. Enjoy! http://outdoordads.org/deception/album/

Finally got the second ascent of this gem via a major variation. I call the variation,"Oly Licked my girlfriend's shirt while she was in it" Here are the photos. Here Gyselinck and I enjoy the approach, aided by a dinosaur of course. During the second half of the approach, we encountered this climber ready to fight and trying to beat us to the second ascent. Here I am approaching the true false summit, which happened to be an active volcano. The approach now over, we get our first look at the mountain The climb was interesting, but a little boring. About 102 pitches of mostly 5.10+ climbing on volcanic scree. Here is the Lyger riding the true summit Here I am on the summit enjoying a well deserved beer The descent was uneventful and took 14 days. This is what awaited us at the trailhead after the climb.