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Trip: Chilliwack Range - Redoubt Creek to Mt Redoubt, Alpine Wedding, Perry Creek deproach Trip Date: 06/21/2024 Trip Report: Climbers: Jake and Julia Johnson – Sandpoint, ID Emilio Taiveaho - Saxapahaw, NC (Emilio’s wife Krysten could not join on this trip, but was very much with us in spirit) Adam and Monica Moline – Olympia, WA Summary: 9 Days and 8 nights in the Chilliwack Range with the primary objective of an alpine wedding. Weather kept us off most of our climbing objectives, which was a known risk by going in June. The approach, deproach, and riding out the storm proved to be an excellent adventure by themselves, and we were successful in our primary objective of getting married! I enjoy packing detail into these reports, primarily for my own benefit, while the detail is still fresh in my mind. Thus, it’s a lengthy report. But I also tried to make it photo heavy for readers that prefer to skip to the sections that interest them. Preface: Julia and I have been discussing our ideal wedding venue for a long time. After ruling out traditional options, we decided on an alpine elopement. Our first thought was to make a trip to the Cirque of the Unclimbables, in Canada’s Northwest Territories, but the timing and logistics for that trip weren’t lining up. We decided on the Chilliwack Range, for its beauty and remoteness, and the fact that it didn't require coordinating float planes to get to. The Depot Creek route from Canada was the obvious approach option for hauling in a suit, wedding dress, lots of camping luxuries, and a good bit more food than a normal trip. However, we had some last minute reservations about our wedding involving an illegal border crossing. After chatting with several friendly border patrol officers on the phone, we confirmed that there is no process or permissions to make the Depot Creek approach legal. They essentially told us that, although they would do their best not to catch us, they couldn’t guarantee it. Emilio, Adam, and I had climbed in the Chilliwacks in 2021, and accessed via the Perry Creek approach. However, the thought of doing the Perry Creek bushwack and climbing over the Ridge of Gendarmes with a wedding dress on my back wasn’t inspiring. We reached out to Ross Lake Resort to see if their water taxi would drop us at Silver Creek so that we could approach via that valley, but the lake levels were too low for them to take us there – the furthest they could get us was Little Beaver. I combed over reports for other approach options. Hiking all the way from Hannegan wasn’t appealing; we planned to bring heavy packs to live in alpine luxury for the week. While studying satellite imagery, I noticed that Redoubt Creek, the drainage west of Perry Creek, was relatively short and contained a wide creek bed – over 100 yds wide in places – which would be nice for keeping the dress out of the brush. Since it was a smaller drainage, I reasoned that the creek might be smaller too, and traveling directly up the creek bed could be a viable option. If so, there would only be a short distance to bushwack with the wedding dress before breaking into the wide section of the creek bed and the alpine. I could not find ANYTHING online about using Redoubt Creek as an approach for the Chilliwacks. When I reached out the national park for information about Redoubt Creek as an approach, they didn’t know what I was talking about, and they provided me with information about Depot Creek - I assume they thought I was just confused, and that I meant Depot Creek. The idea of venturing up a remote valley with little information was intriguing for us, and it seemed like it might work ok. After all, it couldn’t be any harder than Perry Creek, could it? Trip Map: (Spoiler - we ended up bailing to Perry Creek for the way out) Wednesday June 19 & Thursday June 20 Emilio had flown into Spokane on Wednesday the 19th and we had done some cragging. Then on Thursday we ran / climbed Harrison Peak in the Selkirks after I got done with work. Julia's parents drove from Illinois to Idaho to house and dog sit for us, so we had a full house Thursday night. Friday June 21 On Friday we packed up and departed Sandpoint mid-morning and met Adam and Monica at Ross Lake Trailhead at 3pm. The boat was late, so we snacked on Monica’s homemade sourdough bread on the dock and did some swimming. When the boat dropped us at Little Beaver, we ate dinner – Monica’s specialty sandwiches: a healthy serving of a variety of meats and cheese on a pretzel bun – then began the hike in. The first mile of Little Beaver the trail immediately gains 1000 ft, and I was still adjusting to the weight and balance of my new pack-body with the wedding dress hanging off the back. The delayed boat and the weight of our packs made it easy to justify a short first day on the trail, and we stopped at Perry Creek Camp for the night after ~4.5 trail miles. Saturday June 22 We all tried to take advantage of the pit toilet at Perry Camp before departing for the day. Julia and I also spent some time repacking the dress – the “cape” method we had tried on day 1 was meant to avoid getting wrinkles and creases in the dress, but it did not seem like it would work for the shwacking. We knocked out the remaining 5 miles of trail walking to Little Beaver’s Junction with Redoubt Creek, stopping for a few quick breaks that included some trailside bouldering. After searching a bit for a good route to start up on, we gave up and Adam led the schwack straight through some moderate alder and devils club on climber's right of the creek. After a few hundred yards, the slope steepened significantly, but the forest floor thinned and we followed some heavily used bear trails straight up the mountainside. The slope cliffed out a bit as Redoubt Creek plummeted through waterfalls to our left. We were able to find some gullies to navigate up these sections with only a few climbing moves. Emilio kept our spirits high by singing Marty Robbins' "You Gotta Climb" - a real mountain jam! Above the cliffy sections we made some great progress, again following steep bear trails straight up the steep mountain valley. The Redoubt Creek valley bottom levels out significantly after this, and the goal here was to get down into the creek bed and use that to rock hop our way up the remainder of the valley. However, based on the roar of the creek, we decided to continue up on the bear trail as far as it would take us. Eventually the old growth and bear trail wanted to force us to the right, straight up the mountainside and perpendicular to the direction we needed to go. We dropped down into a tributary creek bed and crossed it into some thick alder. We hacked our way through alder for 200 yards, angling down towards Redoubt Creek. This was the thickest, most sustained alder I had ever climbed through. I checked the gps map on my phone – we still had 300+ yards of this to go before the next section of old growth forest, and it felt like we had already been in it for an hour. We changed our angle, to head directly downhill through the alder to get to the creek, in hopes that we could find some relief in the creek bed. Once we got to it, there was a sheer 20 ft drop from the alder straight down to the raging river. So much for the creek being small! We briefly discussed options – the alder had somehow been getting thicker, and it felt like our slow progress through this grove was getting slower. We decided to backtrack to the tributary we had crossed before entering the grove. To add to our frustration, it began to rain softly on us. We used the tributary’s creek bed to head straight up the mountainside for a quarter mile until it met with some old growth above the alder grove, as a way to circumvent it. Looking south at Luna Peak's North Face: The old growth was incredibly steep with significant blow down, so we took a line angling around the alder grove, but right back down towards Redoubt Creek. A bit more bushwacking near the valley bottom, and we stumbled out onto a beach that provided a place to camp for the evening. In camp, we studied the map and tried to formulate a plan for the remainder of the valley. The creek was moving a lot more water than we had hoped, so crossing it would be very sketchy without log crossings. If we couldn’t cross the creek, it would force us up into the alder every 100 yards or so because of the way it snaked from side to side within the creek bed. The negative thoughts started to creep in a bit – Maybe this way wouldn’t go. Why did we pack so heavy? If this doesn’t go, would we need to celebrate our wedding down here in the alder? Sunday June 23 The upper valley was filled with fog, and the drizzle was on and off throughout the morning. We took our time to stretch, hydrate, and relax all morning until noon when the forecast showed a lower chance of rain. We needed a bit of a mental break before engaging in another fight with the alder. At noon we backtracked downstream a hundred yards so that we could cross the creek at a log crossing, then quickly regained that ground in the creek bed on that side of the creek. Another hundred yards and we were forced out of the creek bed by the creek, and we were back in the alder. Emilio had been developing a rating scale for “Technical Slide Alder” and this was at least “SA 4”, which is the point at which the alder decides which direction you get to go, and you have no say in the matter. After a few hundred yards, the alder spat us out right at a log crossing that got us to good creek bed on the other side of the creek – a lucky break. It was great walking for a few hundred yards, and we marveled at how wide the creek bed was here, with tall walls on either side leading straight up to dense alder at the top. After that bit of good walking, the creek wound back to our side of the bed and pressed right up against the steep wall on our side. To climb up the bank and around this pinch point looked to be about a 5.9+ climbing move with the packs, and then an “SA 5” bushwack for a long ways. The alternative was to traverse just above the raging creek on the steep and sandy bank. Julia and I backtracked down the creek looking for a log we may have missed, to cross over on; no luck. Emilio led the charge across the bank, kicking collapsing steps in the sand as he went. Adam and Monica followed, and finally - after a bit of deliberation - Julia and I reluctantly followed as well. We made it just a short bit further in the creek bed before the creek wound back and presented a similar challenge again. But this time, we had a better opportunity to escape the creek bed and dive into a short alder shwack, and then climb some steep old growth. We had eaten our fill of alder, and we couldn’t take much more of following the creek. We plotted a new line that would take us higher up the side of the valley in the trees, and then sidehill the remainder of the valley. The trees initially provided some relief from the density of the valley bottom. However, the slope quickly became very steep, to the point where I would frequently need to hold Julia’s feet into the soil in front of me to allow her to step up without slipping back down. Once we had climbed to an elevation that would be clear of most of the alder groves reaching up from the valley, we began side-hilling. This was also slow moving due to the steepness of the terrain, and needing to negotiate a good amount of blow down. The moving required confident footwork, and both hands. Whenever there was a space flat enough to stop and rest without rolling down the mountain, we took advantage of it. Light rain came and went, and the forest thickened – still very steep. As it got dark, we dropped down a steep alder-lined bank into a tributary that was filled with snow, but was also flanked by a sloping heather bench. I had never been so relieved to arrive at so poor of a campsite. Emilio pitched his tent above a small tree to avoid rolling down the hill, Adam and Monica spent some time landscaping with rocks to create a small flat-ish area, while Julia and I chose to use our axes to chop out a spot on the snow flat enough that we wouldn’t take the big ride in the night. We had to fight to keep our spirits up. In total, we had only covered maybe 2 miles as-the-crow-flies the entire day. It was starting to become a possibility, if we didn’t increase our pace, that we would need to turn around without ever getting into the alpine, and our entire trip would be bushwacking. Julia wasn’t open to that possibility – “I’m not going back down this valley”. We talked to the rest of the group, and all happily agreed that we would bail to Perry Creek as the deproach, assuming we could make it up and out of this valley. Monday June 24 We needed this day to be productive, and we were happy to find good weather when we woke up. The forest was kind, with reasonable old growth walking right away in the morning. We picked a line that aimed for the clear meadows at the head of the valley. After a short section of side-hilling, we dropped straight down towards the valley bottom and were greeted by a now-much-smaller Redoubt Creek and a bog. Mt Redoubt standing proud at the head of the Redoubt Creek valley We crossed the creek in sandals, then picked our way through the bog over to some talus on the west side of the valley. In just over an hour, we had covered as much ground as the entire previous day. Looking up at the unclimbed "Crazy Crushed Contours" wall on NW Mox Peak We topped off water before hopping on a snow finger that took us straight up head of the valley. Here, we found an abundance of wolverine tracks, and higher up in the cirque Monica spotted the creature itself, scampering through the talus! Some easy snow walking led us up the remainder of the way to Camp 7200. We had used one of the few good weather days of the trip to get here, but we all felt very accomplished to have completed such a complex and heinous approach. Tuesday June 25 The forecast said clear, and then rain for the remainder of the week, so we needed to make the most of it. We accidentally slept in a bit later than expected, then roped up for the glacier walking on the first section of the route up Redoubt. The walking was great for the first bit, but as sun baked the snow I began to fall through and it became a slog. We crossed the rock rib without issue and worked around to the south side of the mountain. Here the snow steepens, and it also deepened. I did my best to stay on top of the snow by getting my toe in solidly enough, then dropping my knee to distribute my weight across the surface of the snow. This technique was basically just crawling up the mountain, and our pace was as slow as you’d expect. As we neared the rock at the top of the snow, the snow got softer and deeper - over waist deep - and I was forced to change techniques again. I would use my axe and my knees to tunnel out the 2 feet of snow in front of me, then use my feet and crampons to compress this chopped snow into a step. Then repeat. The rest of the team practiced patience while I slowly engineered the route up the last 15 meters onto the rock. I was excited to get the crampons off my feet and scramble rock. We probably should have kept the crampons on and climbed the snow in the gully up to the summit block, but the rock did provided a reasonable route up, by traversing above the snow in the gully. We remained roped up as we had been on the snow, and we gave each other body belays through any short stiff sections. At the top of the gully, we found a good amount of snow below the final rock pitch. We decided to pitch it out one person at a time – another time-suck. The guys gave me the lead again, a wedding present for me. I crossed the snow by kicking steps with my trail running shoes, then traversed into the rock chimney leading to the summit. I placed a cam and pulled the slightly overhanging summit move. It felt stiffer than I expected, probably due to the wet trail runners. I slung a block to belay and brought everyone else up the pitch. Summit Success! There were a lot of moments over the previous days when I thought there was little chance of tagging any summits on this trip, so it felt good to stand on at least one. However, it was WAY later in the day than we had anticipated, and we still needed to get down, get beautiful, and get married. We made several rappels to get down. If we had anticipated the amount of snow on the route, we would have brought multiple ropes to speed this process up. Once we were back on the snow, we plunged heels into the deep slush snow and made great time following our tracks back to camp. It was evening when we got back to camp, and there was some anxiety and emotions regarding what we should do with our wedding ceremony. We felt like there was a reasonable chance of a small break in the weather over the next 2 days for us to do the ceremony, but that wasn’t a guarantee. We decided to get ready quickly and make it happen before dark. We boiled water in the jetboil and added it to the water filter reservoir to provide Julia with a hot shower. Adam adjusted some rocks to make a flat spot for the ceremony above camp, and Monica made a small bouquet from heather and a hair tie. I put on my suit, which Emilio had carried in his pack the whole way up, and I was pleased to find it in great condition. I set up some cameras and got myself and the guys in position. Then I closed my eyes and waited for my bride. Emilio kicked off the ceremony with some opening remarks. I opened my eyes and laid eyes on my alpine queen. She looked beautiful. We read our vows to each other and exchanged rings. It was perfect. The wind picked up towards the end of our ceremony and provided some dramatic effect for the few photos we were able to take before it got too dark. We celebrated with the best freeze dried and dehydrated meals we had brought with us, as well as freeze dried pudding for dessert! The wind continued to increase, and we turned in for the night. Wednesday June 26 & Thursday June 27 There was not any rain in the night, just steady wind blowing the storm closer. We scrambled around on the rocks around camp in the morning hours, and watched the mountains to the south disappear as the storm engulfed them. We knew there was little chance of tagging any summits over the next 2 days, but we made note of the boulders we wanted to work around camp, and other activities we might want to do during any upcoming breaks in the weather. We scampered into tents as it began to rain – it wouldn’t stop once for the next 40 hours. We had all reinforced the south sides of our tents, as that was the direction the storm blew in from. But at some point during Wednesday night the wind changed directions and completely flattened our tents, blowing strong from the north. We did our best to keep our things dry, but Adam and Monica ended up with a small indoor swimming pool. Every now and then I could hear some singing over the sound the rain and wind, coming from Emilio's tent: "♪ Rider's on the Storm ♪.... ♪ Rider's on the Storm ♪" On Thursday the rain changed to snow, which was a welcome relief from the wet of the rain. Friday June 28 Our boat out from Little Beaver was at 4pm on Saturday, so we hadn’t left much extra time to hike out. Friday morning started with a beautiful cloud inversion and some sunshine. By the time we started hiking towards Col of the Wild, the clouds had risen to our level and we were back inside the ping pong ball. On this hike, my right crampon broke – probably the consequence of using them too much with my trail runners. (I like using the strap style crampons with my trail runners on trips where there is any chance of hard multipitch climbing - which we had planned for, but were unable to do on this trip. I feel pretty confident in most snow conditions with this setup, and you can't beat clipping light weight trail runners to your harness while climbing in rock shoes. However, we've found that the bar on the Black Diamond Contact crampon is only good for 1 or 2 big trips before breaking when working them hard on such a flexible shoe.) I reasoned that the snow would be soft enough for the remainder of the trip that not having both crampons shouldn’t matter all too much. We kicked through moderately deep snow up to Col of the Wild; not anything like what we had encountered on Redoubt. From the col, we were able to see the first section of the Ridge of Gendarmes through the fog. What is 3rd and 4th class in the summer was covered in some deep and steep looking snow, with cornices guarding some sections at the top. We picked a line that climbed straight up the snow, then traversed right to the low point in the first ridge. Adam had carried a picket in his pack this entire trip without any expectation of needing it, but we were happy to have it for this section. Emilio made his case for taking the lead on this pitch – he had two crampons compared to my one, he pointed out. I was greedy, and formulated some weak argument for why I should get it anyways. Emilio conceded and offered to belay. This was the steepest, iciest, and most dramatic mixed lead I had ever done, and I savored the unexpected adrenaline surge. The stability and varied depth of the snow required careful and delicate movement. What an awesome, unexpected challenge on our "hike out"! I took my time tunneling upwards through the deep snow and kicking good steps for the rest to follow with their packs. After about 10 meters I placed the picket and traversed rightward. Again, I spent a good amount of time tunneling out the snow and packing down a solid shelf for the others to follow on. I worked into some sections with exposed rock and chipped away ice to get to some handholds and solid gear placements. Eventually I was able to work upwards to a belay at the notch in the ridge. We ate up a lot of the morning getting everyone and their packs up this pitch, but Emilio began working the next pitch once he was up. This next pitch contains the only 5th class move on the ridge in summer conditions, and it is pretty straight forward. But we roped up for it because of the heavy packs and some snow on the ledges. Emilio led and Adam and Monica followed, simuling on the end of the first rope. Adam towed up a second rope that Julia and I then simuled up the end of. After this pitch, Julia and I remained roped together simuling on a short rope for a bit of added confidence as Julia led us the remainder of the way up to the top of the ridge. We encountered a few low 5th class moves to avoid snow and ice where the route would normally be. The other side of the Ridge of Gendarmes leading down to Perry Creek is less steep, but contained more snow, so we made 2 rappels to get down to the glacier. Prepping to rappel at the Ridge of Gendarmes. SE Mox in the back right of the frame. Once down on the glacier, we roped together and made quick progress down to the head of Perry Creek. It was getting dark in the valley bottom, but we pushed for another 30 minutes on the talus to shorten our hike out the next day. Without any good flat spots for camping nearby, and without feeling like pushing any further, we made do by adjusting some rocks in the talus. Saturday June 29 We were up with the sun and hopping down the talus of upper Perry Creek early in the morning. We cut into the old growth and made good time despite less than perfect route finding. Julia and Monica joked at our previous fear of Perry Creek – this was nothing compared to Redoubt Creek. However, the bugs were thick and the Perry Creek descent saves the best for last - Thick dead pines and steep terrain on the final drop down into Little Beaver. We did find a faint climbers trail that was definitely not there in 2021, but we found it only as we were coming out of the thickest part of the schwack, so it didn't benefit us much. I had kept my hard shell jacket on to protect me during the plunge down the thick stuff, so I was overheating when we landed on the Little Beaver trail. We topped off our water and enjoyed a well-earned rest. The 4.5 miles of trail back to Ross Lake felt like they took forever, but perspective is a beautiful thing, and we did not take for granted how easy covering the ground was, compared to the week we had. We had an hour to spare before the boat picked us up, so we swam and basked in the sun at Ross Lake. The boat ride back to Ross Dam is always satisfying after a week in the mountains. We hiked up the trail to the cars in our sandals, loaded into the cars, and drove to Marblemount where we proceeded to order an absurd amount of food. We enjoyed the next 2 nights at an AirBnb that Julia and I had reserved for the group. There, we continued to make and consume an outrageous amount of food. Final Thoughts I need to express my gratitude to the team that made this adventure what it was. First and foremost, my new wife, Julia. I would have agreed to any wedding venue she wanted – for her to choose this place says a lot about who she is. I’m incredibly lucky. This was Monica’s first real trip into the Cascades backcountry, despite many years of climbing in Washington. She crushed it, and I’m sure it won’t be long until she’s back for more. Adam and Emilio have been my primary climbing partners for a long time, and they came through for me at my wedding, carrying heavy packs (70+ lbs) and keeping the stoke high throughout. They only took 1 full day of rest after this trip before heading back to Ross Lake, and hiking into the Pickets. That should say plenty about how hardcore they are. As I write this, they’re getting on Mongo Ridge with a great weather forecast to get some redemption from our attempt in poor weather in 2022. Update - they sent! Up next, Jules and I are heading to Alaska to do some honeymoon climbing (again – her idea, I’m lucky), but also some fishing and relaxing. Gear Notes: Standard Wedding Rack Approach Notes: SA5 Schwacking

Trip: Inspiration Peak - South Face Trip Date: 07/14/2024 Trip Report: Me, @Albuquerque Fred and Mike climbed the south face of Inspiration Peak over two days July 13 and 14. We also walked up Glee on the way to camp since Inspiration in two days wasn't enough exercise for them. For beta we had @JasonG's TR: and @Steph_Abegg's beta, although I thought her suggestion to go past the base of the gash was crazy. We did so and it involved an insanely airy step across where the ramp disappears briefly just past the gash, then you climb up just to go back down to just above where you were before the airy step. I say go up the ramp to the gash, then go up, easy. This photo of Steph's was gold: The camp is melting out with about 5 good sites available and dry. We had excellent conditions on the glacier, easy navigating up a direct line, then a walk directly onto the approach buttress where we left the snow gear. A pitch, then simul traversing, up the ramp, up the gash, to the top. Easy route finding. We did like 12 or so raps with a tiny bit of down climbing right back to our snow gear. Many of the raps are tough. The big block to start the South Face raps has quick links going both directions, with additional stations below both ways. We went more westerly off the block but it was a hard steep traverse at the bottom of the rap to get to the next station. What have other people done here? The climbing was, I thought, great in the gash. A good, tough route to a tough peak. Crazily enough the mountain was getting tons of action this weekend. We talked to a group that did the east ridge the day before, another that did the south face, and then on the hike out another going for the east ridge on Monday. We were stupid and hiked out on the same day as the summit. Around 14 hours camp-summit-camp, 20 hours camp-summit-car. +2.5 home. Ew. In bed at 3:00 am with a 5:30 alarm for work. The trail: In camp: Fred finding the direct line through the glacier: Easy moat: On the summit, beautiful day: So happy to be on dirt again: Terror Basin conditions from Glee: Gear Notes: Single Rack to #2, 2 30m half ropes, crampons not really needed but used, rock shoes. Approach Notes: Grueling to camp, easy from there.

Trip: Mt. Fury - Wayne Wallace’s Mongo Ridge (Second Ascent of the Rooster Comb and new line on the Pole of Remoteness) Trip Date: 07/07/2024 Trip Report: Once in a Lifetime: Wayne Wallace’s Mongo Ridge (Second Ascent of the Rooster Comb and new line on the Pole of Remoteness). VI (26 Pitches, Steep Snow) 5.10a+ R. [not to dispute or change the current ED 1 5.9 rating, proposed by Sam Boyce. A note on the grade: 1. we encountered climbing harder than 5.10a on tower one--this could be avoided with better route-finding 2: Wayne gives a grade of 5.10 on tower three with the description of an "overhanging bulge" that matched our experience. We are in agreement that there are multiple ways of lowering the technical climbing difficulty, as Mongo Ridge is itself full of lines, and are quite honestly not concerned with the naming of difficulty or grade. The experience is full on, and the "hardest" pitches usually get low technical grades--5.4 Tower 3 traverse.] 65 hours on the route (30+ hours of climbing and three bivys), 6 rappels, 3 simul pitches, 1 big bag of Chad’s Backcountry Catfood. Adam “Mo” Moline & emilio Taiveaho Peláez Itinerary: Monday July 1st: Drive and boat-in, walk to Luna Camp Tuesday 2nd: Luna Camp up Access Creek Wednesday 3rd: Below Luna Col to ½ way up Tower One (travel low route, below Luna Ridge, summit Fury, descend; sleep at tower one bivy) Thursday 4th: Tower One, Tower Two, Tower Three; sleep at tower three bivy Friday 5th: Summit of Tower Three to False Fury Bivy (climb Tower 4, Rooster Comb, Pole of Remoteness) Saturday 6th: False Fury to True Summit of Fury, traverse back through East Fury and back to Luna Ridge Bivy Sunday 7th: Luna Ridge down Access Creek and hike back down Big Beaver to HWY 20 Concise Version: A celebration of Wayne Wallace’s achievement on soloing the mythic Mongo Ridge. A rare opportunity and ideal weather window, following the wake of a week spent in the Chilliwack range for the wedding of a lifetime. Adventure, friendship, gratitude, the closing of a four year project, renewed vigor and commitment to wildness and to the power of cooperation and trust. Our line up The Pole of Remoteness (“Once in a Lifetime” 2 Pitches, 5.9R) is accessed by climbing the Rooster Comb and rapping climber’s left of the formation, then following an upward gulley to an opening near the base of the Pole before traversing onto the ramps comprising its south facing aspect (see P.24-25 for additional details/beta). Thank you to Wayne Wallace for the line. The boldness and grit of onsight free soloing Mongo Ridge, only rope soloing the hard climbing of tower three, is astonishing. Words fail in capturing the admiration we feel in imagining being on the ridge without beta, committing to each challenge--each tower, each pitch, each move--without certainty of outcome. As we mention in the trip report, our effort is but an echo of that awesome event in 2006; thank you to Jeff and Priti Wright for their second ascent and trip report (this trip report motivated us to attempt Mongo for the first time in 2022, and we’ve poured over it for years); thank you to Lani Chapko and Sam Boyce for the third ascent beta–including the idea to luxuriate on Tower Three, the “sick bivy” was indeed the sickest bivy of my life–and thank you to them for their second ascent on the Pole of Remoteness, for cleaning our rap tat during their climb (and a cam I think?); thank you especially to Jake Johnson, secret hero of this trip report, who selflessly gave us gear, helped us think through the logistics, and who climbed with us in spirit, hoggin’ all the leads with his enviable trad dad style even when he wasn’t there, we were redpointing Tower One because of him; thank you, too, to Cedar Wright for the nice gear and rain jacket that I’ve been living out of in the backcountry, sleeping on top of ropes in the open air but feeling like I got a tarp on; thank you to our families for the continued support and love and openness to allow us to pursue this lunatic dream; and mostly thank you to the Picket Range, for providing us passage, for testing us, humbling us, and endlessly teaching us. The Picket Range is the heart, to have the privilege to be there, in such a special and sacred place, among clouds and glaciers, is not something we take for granted. Preamble: Last year, Adam and I Sharpened the Saw on the Sawtooth Ridge of the Olympics. This was a climb with injuries, consequences, and many lessons, as it took us out for a big part of the summer. Facing the existential questions of: “why climb?” “Are the risks and objective hazards involved in alpine ascents worth it?” ushered in a renewed commitment to the craft, and a year of blue collar trad work for me. We had tested our systems and crossed true choss, we knew what we had to do to make sure we’d be ready for Mongo Ridge. My home is parked in rural North Carolina, so I spent the year putting time on moderates across the Southeast, honing rock skills and getting humbled. Mo, living in Olympia, put time in climbing all over the state (and many long hours on the garage woodie), consistently pushing his grades higher and refining his style, polishing his rockcraft with the precision of a master potter. We trained in North Idaho with our partner Jake Johnson, seeking ice and snow adventure. In North Carolina, we climbed wet multipitch in the Linville Gorge and tried the strangest and most beautiful routes we could find (Zombie Woof at Moore’s Wall; the Open Book at the Linville Gorge), learning to fall on gear and getting as dialed into our trad systems as we could. Mo and I have been climbing together for half a decade, so it’s safe to say we’re a unit, and if anyone would be able to climb and live on Mongo Ridge and have a blast at the same time, it would be us–particularly given all we’ve gone through in the Cascades. We had a very strong shot at setting the SKT (Slowest Known Time) of the Ridge, and weren’t about to give up that opportunity. Taking a boat ride in, we stache some Mt. Fury Chardonnay, protein, and bone broth in a bag at Big Beaver, hoping to have a celebratory meal and toast next week, regardless of what happens, and hike in to the big commit. Pitch by Pitch: Given that we swapped leads back and forth, each section of the pitch by pitch report is written by the leader of the pitch. If the follower gives commentary, it will be noted in the description. Sections of commentary are written by both of us in collaboration. East Fury: After a long grinding slog up snow, scree, and heather to East Fury, we stache extraneous supplies on the summit and eat a big meal. A forecast showed the best Picket weather we’ve had in years. We decide to go with 2 packs to share the weight and haul more water, but as light as possible. Early afternoon deliberation about gear leaves us staching clothes, bivys, extra food, and a half-pound of dry-salami for our return journey. Everything non-essential including our tooth brushes and spoons got the cut. Soon the descent begins and each quick step down towards Goodell Creek pushes up deeper and deeper into our commitments and dreams. We stop twice for water, filling up our supplies below the “washboard” feature used to access the first tower. We drink as much as we can, knowing water is going to be a crux in the days ahead. Mo fills 5L, but I (Emilio) felt a little too intimidated by the climbing to carry the weight, so I brought with me 3L. With early season conditions still lingering, we are able to use a snow bridge and avoid the moat crux to gain the tower. By 4:30 P.M., we were on rock, here we go: Tower One: Emilio Pitch 1. 5.6 squeeze chimney. Grime and loose rock but fantastic moving. A devotee of the old school, I take “chimney” literally, rather than escaping right or left. The top is a narrow constriction that eats the body like a cam. Tight enough that I took off my pack and slung it behind me, pulling the pig up once I was out. Time to get birthed. From here, the search for a belay led me right and up, though I couldn’t identify Wayne’s original “5.8 overhang,” I got to a position that seemed to allow passage, had a good anchor, and brought Mo up who climbed the solid rock to the left of the chimney. Mo Pitch 2 5.10 (b/c?). After a long day which looked more like a wave-function going repeatedly up and down the snow and scree, vertical rock was a treat. Finally we only have to go up! The excitement of being on route, slight exhaustion, and a head focused on speed led me to punching up the first overhang I saw after the belay. Ironically trending up to try to avoid the 5.10 pitch the Wrights climbed, I found myself in 5.10 territory with overhangs on smeared feet. I climbed up and looked where I could bail left but found no escape from the increasingly steep pitch. Not being fresh on my choss dancing skills and feeling weighed down by the pack, I reached up for a hold with too little grace for the pickets and pulled a head-sized block down on top of me. I saw the earth spinning closer as I fell towards the chimney when Emilio miraculously catches me on my 2nd piece after a ~15 foot fall. I felt oddly calm and with only an elevated heart-rate and a small cut on my finger I realized my luck. After catching my breath and realizing the need for delicate climbing, but not wanting to go clean and down-climb that crux section, I repeat the moves trending up and slightly left on sustained 5.10 terrain until a decent belay. My father’s life advice, “Be smart about being stupid” rang in my ears for the rest of the trip as my attitude turned to patience without rushing the remainder of the ridge. While I had studied the beta the route, I underestimated Tower 1 given our previous ascent/descent (with sherpa Johnson hauling me up luxuriously last time). I am grateful for the easy and hard lessons that the Pickets teach and this seemed like a slap on the wrist. The next 2.5 days on the ridge gave me a renewed sense of mindful choss-dancing while communing with this stellar ridge. After this intro pitch, a sense of cragging in the sky on some of the best rock I’ve found in Washington left me elated and excited for the seemingly endless options of gendarmes on the road ahead. Emilio commentary: Say what Mo will say about this pitch, I firmly believe this was the crux of the route and the most difficult climbing we did by far. I was definitely at my edge in terms of the movement and commitment required for this pitch full of slopers and foot trickery. As the second pitch of the route, it was a sobering follow. During Mo’s fall, I remember my body reacting as if by instinct as I threw myself down the mountain to catch the steep fall without getting yanked up and potentially colliding with loose rock or compromising my anchor (a slung block requiring a downward, rather than sideward, direction of pull). Emilio Pitch 3. Wondery 5.6ish with wolverine climbing (trying to avoid moss and branches, sometimes grabbing branches, surprisingly bushwacky). At a great belay, Mo looks both triumphant and battle worn–on his first lead of the trip. His fall had certainly rattled us both, but we knew we had to continue pressing upward. Once we were back on route things would ease up. After all, we were redpointing Tower One, which had previously been very cruxy and time consuming, but at least we knew it, and had slept on it. On our previous attempt, I remember this tower being tricky to navigate until the fourth class ridge… this time around, we were again too far right to access the true ridge. From Mo’s belay, I started climbing up and left, looking for anything familiar. Mo Pitch 4: A shorter than necessary pitch traversing left through brush brought us to a view of the ridge and easier terrain. I was still shaking off the nerves after my fall, so I relied on my reliable climbing partner to help bring us to some version of a safe nook for the night. Emilio Pitch 5: Low 5th. More of the same movement, wolverine and brush dance. I kept pressing up and left, up and left, looking for a bivy spot for the night, until I found a nook that looked like it could accommodate two. I barely fit in the loving squeeze of two blocks, while Mo somehow balanced his sleeping pad between two young trees and slept as if suspended in air. Thursday morning we woke up at 5:30 a.m., lingering in our packs a little bit to appreciate the warm embrace of morning sun after a cold night. Emilio Pitch 6: Low fifth. Some sketchy tree moving and continuing to push up. Recognizing that Mo must still be at least a little rattled by his fall (the biggest I’d seen on trad prior to that point) I figured I should start the day on lead, given that I’d scoped out the route and was feeling strong and motivated to continue upwards, this would be a nice warm-up for the work ahead. Mo commentary: This was the only time we deviated from swinging leads equally. I was grateful for my top rope which properly warmed my bones and woke me back up. Mo Pitch 7: More rock than brush now, more of the same climbing and regaining confidence leading. Emilio Pitch 8: 4th/low fifth. Up and to the summit of Tower One. The most straightforward lead so far. Once at the familiar summit, we scope for the rap stations the previous parties have left behind. A small cluster on the climber's left of the formation leads us to the first single rope rap, which we gleefully ride in order to cross over to the base of tower 3. Tower 2. Fun!! Mo P.9 5.7 Some choss on ledges, but overall solid rock compared to what Tower 1 felt like. Trending up and right until a solid belay ledge before the traverse. Expecting choss made this tower feel like a solid block of granite. Moderate climbing with easy route finding was affirming. Emilio P.10 Blue Collar 5.8/5.9 emilio leads right and up in steady moving. This is the first lead where I really feel the hours of drilling trad moderates in North Carolina coming to my aid, as I encounter really enjoyable climbing on consistent rock. It certainly felt nice to be on rock with decent, if runout, protection after negotiating all the obstacles we had overcome to get here. From the summit of tower two, we use both our ropes to rap steeply to the base of tower 3. Tower 3. This felt like the crucible of the route. We knew it was supposed to be the technical crux of the trip. In his AAJ article, Wayne called Tower 3 5.10. On the other hand, both previous groups (Priti & Jeff; Lani & Sam), had only reported 5.9. Either way, we knew it was going to be old school and looked steep and intimidating. I had dreamt of that sight for two years now, remembering gaping at the massive tower during our first attempt in 2022. Mo P.11 5.4 R traverse skirting tower 3 turned out to be the most stressful climbing of the day for me. Few options for pro led to an intimidating lead and follow. Probably my longest (time) lead of the day, a delicate calculation and sideward dance on a solid quartz band led me to an amazing ledge at the base of the route. Emilio commentary: This sure was a fun and scary pitch to follow. Amazing ledges and solid moving, all covered with loose rock that wanted to eat the rope. There was some pro, but it was a pretty long traverse so rope management was crucial to pulling this pitch safely. Despite the low grade, this pitch was scarier than many others… thank you again to the sandbaggery of North Carolina, combined with a heady cocktail of previous trips to the Pickets and the Wind River of Wyoming, for preparing me for this moment. Emilio P.12. 5.9 corner. Being back on lead sure felt nice, especially with a feature as exquisite as the route ahead. Some of the best rock of the trip (and actually more than ample pro) made this section ecstatic for me… perhaps a little too much, since I kept punching up past the nice belay ledge and instead found myself at a very awkward hanging belay realizing I was going too far. Tricams inspired confidence as I realized I could have Mo rack up below before pumping up, making our next transition surprisingly effective despite my strange arachnid position on the rock. Mo Pitch 13 5.9 steep arete. The pitch that brought me completely back to my wits for the rest of the trip. Amazing holds on stellar rock left me in a ecstatic flow state as the arete continued to offer exactly the hand and foot holds I needed. I remember throwing a heel hook over thin air around the other side of the arete in order to avoid a loose block. Sometimes we would clean the route for future venturers, but most of the time we decided to leave the choss where it sleeps. Emilio commentary: Tower three kept delivering. Incredible rock on a steep follow. It felt as though Mongo acknowledged our love dedication and training, and was starting to grant us passage. Emilio P.14 overhanging bulge, 5.10a honest. I acknowledge that I am far more mountaineer and andinist than pure rock climber, but for the last four years I have been dedicating my time to honing the art of rock climbing and have done my best to make sure I am competent for Mongo. In retrospect, this pitch was to be the definitive moment for my experience on the ridge, as I was confronted with a committing and challenging sequence that demanded everything from me as a trad leader. I placed a finicky nut to move up a short slab ramp leading to an overhanging bulge on the steep prow. I went up and down, breathing and gathering my wits for the sequence. I remembered the advice Arno Ilger gives about commitment: once you decide to go, go for it and do not hesitate, trust the decision you have already made. Sloping hands and cryptic feet brought me up and I dug my fingernails into lichen filled crimps on really solid rock. My nut popped behind me so I pushed on until I could find a belay. I know other groups give this a 5.9, but this was harder than other routes I’ve done at the grade (a good point of comparison is the Keystone Route on Harrison Peak in North Idaho, a Randall Greene route that is my standard for the grade. Experientially, I would argue this pitch on Mongo was quite a bit harder and more committing than that route, but would not be offended if others think this pitch is simply really hard 5.9). Mo commentary: I’ve been in this position many times before. Watching Emilio working a crux from below and drilling the moves to gain confidence. On my follow, this felt like the hardest climbing we did and got me close to my limit. Bad feet up to lichen slopers and hidden crimps presented a 15 meter section of sustained hard climbing. Thank god for having an Emilio on the rack because this is where they shine. In the obscure, cryptic, and heady pitches that leave me questioning if it goes. With Emilio on the sharp end, it goes. Mo Pitch 15 I climb up and look at the steep committing vertical section above. After deliberating, we remember the beta of skirting to the right. I peek around the corner until an easy ledge continues to low 5th class climbing on solid rock for a long pitch ending between the bivy and summit. I could have done this kind of climbing all day long as I run out long sections to the top due to most of the rack being on the exposed ridge below and easy climbing ahead. I must say that we both sewed up the steep sections of the climb and the options for protection were plentiful. Some sections of the ridge obviously require run-outs, but we realized that we almost always had either great rock to climb or ample options for pro. We spent a vast majority of our time on route roped up with anchors or gear between us. This led to a sense of comfort and safety throughout our time on the ridge which facilitated the incredibly fun time we were having navigating the steep walls of this gorgeous ridge. Summit tower three. Best bivy ever. Truly thank you to Lani and Sam for recommending this sleeping spot. We took our time on tower three, fairly worked but psyched to have made it through. Like the poet says, bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, but to bivy on tower three is very heaven. We knew we were in for what felt like a rare jewel of a beautiful opportunity. It was around six thirty in the afternoon and we got to soak in the landscape, becoming enveloped in the aura of the Picket Range and thanking the universe for this rare and tremendous gift. I have had many incredible times (and incredibly trying times) in the Pickets, but nothing had prepared me for the delight of that evening. I reflected on all the storms we had weathered over the last half decade. Here, I was brought back to my first time in this wonderful place, when six years ago seeking the sobriety of raw truth found in the alpine I found myself on top of Whatcom peak, at sunset, with no way down for the night. That year, I tried to call a rescue helicopter out of the fear of being underprepared. I did not know in-Reaches existed, or didn’t care to have one, and of course rescue never came. Instead, led by by mentor and lifelong friend, Jake Johnson, we downclimbed our route, got off safely, melted snow, and continued to live for a week out in the North Cascades, hiking like holy fools after our life warping adventure. On tower three, all these years later, the preparation, love, and dedication to the place shine through me with ease, and I bow in gratitude for the experiences, for the possibility of good weather we were now experiencing, I bow in gratitude for the good company of my dear friend and brother Adam Moline and all the climbing partners who have ever trusted me behind a rope, I bow in gratitude that the wilderness is real and will never be exterminated, I bow in gratitude of all the positive, constructive, and ecologically responsible attitudes of the wild to be found in the American spirit. We eat salmon and share stoke, leaving some for Jake Johnson, who had gotten us here in the first place and who was up here with us in spirit and in our hearts. Before bed, we re-read Wayne’s original trip report and a poem from Dōgen. We sleep deep and rest well with milky way dreams and positivity. Thank you, universe. In the morning we wake well slept, and hop on our double rope rap from tower three to base of tower four. Back to the eternal now, the dance of going up and down these towers is becoming routine. At the low point in the ridge, we find a drip of snow and fill from the source. We stuff snow into our water containers that will melt against the heat of the body as we continue to lizard upward. We eat a little more breakfast and get back to work. It feels nice to be at this point in the ridge early in the morning, with the whole day ahead of us so we can take our time and attempt not to compromise on the integrity of the line–we knew, no matter what, this would be our last true full-on attempt to commit to Mongo, so it was our last shot to get it right. I have nothing but respect and admiration for all prior parties, all of whom covered a tremendous amount of ground in a short span of time; at the same time, I knew that in order to execute, as a strong team Mo and I would have to be able to take our time. As self-taught climbers, we have no experience in the greater ranges like the indomitable Priti and Jeff, are not high priests of the new-old school choss wizards like Wayne, and certainly are nowhere close to being professional climbing guides or instructors like Lani and Sam. Going slow, in this specific instance, seemed like a way to negotiate some of the risk involved in our undertaking and to make sure we set ourselves up to make smart decisions. The motto of our trip “Be Smart About Being Stupid” echoes through us. Damn did these values and priorities allow for us to have the time of our lives. Tower 4. Emilio Pitch 16. 5.9 traverse. An excellent start to the day, this pitch got us going with leftwards moving through nice holds on thought provoking but solid sequences. It was a little harder than I anticipated, but it was honest climbing and kept me motivated, nothing desperate. Not wanting to create too much rope drag, I belay at the end of the traverse so Mo can take a nice line and to avoid the rope creating rock fall. Mo Pitch 17 No pictures of this pitch but it was virtually choss-less rock going straight up the face with a nice corner and cracks to stem and jam when rests were needed. The rock continued to get more enjoyable to climb for the reminder of the route. Emilio P. 18 5.7. Climbing eases up a bit here, nice moving on quality rock up and to the top, still going up and up and up through a labyrinth of spires and sharp edges. From the summit, once again set up a double rope rap. Once more we found a drip of water to melt snow against our bodies and to drink from the source. Since we grew up Minnesotans, eating snow felt like a natural childhood snack on this warm summer day. These minute particulars–the snow, drip of water, the short rest, the extra bar–really made the trip enjoyable through great fortune on the conditions. There is no way to plan or to expect this, so we did not take the rare opportunity for granted. To continue climbing was ecstasy. We scoped out the fourth-class Rooster Comb bypass climbers right, but knew we were in the perfect spot and the perfect time (~11am) to seek the summit of this improbable and bizarre and absolutely wonderful formation. I thought of my own rooster back home in North Carolina, Charlie Parker, and once more was filled with gratitude for all the minute textures that underpin the fabric of life: how is it possible that such strange sculptures of stone exist? The gendarmes often appear far more striking than the peaks themselves. The vital mineral life and art of rock is on full display in this place, the Northern Pickets. The existence of the Rooster Comb renews my faith and commitment to poetry and art. Rooster Comb: Mo P.19 The most aesthetic line of the rooster comb is to climb as many pinnacles on the knife-edge arete. I head up the arete trying for several pieces enjoying solid blocks and good pro. While the images may deceive, this pitch had some of the most solid rock on the ridge and was my favorite climbing. I agree with Wayne’s ambiguous rating of “Gymnastic” once on the horizontal traverse, but this first 80-90 meters of climbing to gain the top was some of the best 5.7-5.9 climbing I’ve done. I give it a range because many route options presented themselves whether you want to be on the sharp end or a few feet to the right of the many pinnacles along the top of the ridge. I peeked around the corner to find that the Rooster Comb is cleaved in half with a perfectly vertical wall on the other side. I skirt around several blocks and push upward. Several easy chimneys provided a safe embrace above the exposed climbing. Emilio opts for arete and face climbing to avoid being squeezed by a chimney again. The route continued up and then right looking to gain the upper ridge on confidence-inspiring rock. As Emilio is warning me of running out of rope, I look up and see amazing rock leading to what could be a solid belay ledge up top. Knowing that I have solid protection below and an even more solid climber on the other end of my rope, I decide to continue past the sub-par belays to the ridge. At the top, I howl as I see a luxurious seat across from a massive horn to sling for my anchor and a clean line of sight towards the “Ancient Art” of Mongo Ridge. I belay Emilio up, recline into a comfortable seat, and take off my shoes to fully enjoy this island in the sky. Emilio commentary: I realize Mo is moving quicker at this point, scampering and performing some trapeze act I can no longer see in the skies ahead, running out the leads. I also realize he needs rope so the walkies help us talk: “how much more?” “10 meters maybe?” I knew Mo did not have enough rope, but also new it was going to be essential for us to have a decent belay ledge on the Rooster Comb if we hoped not to sever a rope through this gigantic saw. I radio’d back “take all the rope you need” and starting simuling towards the first placement, then towards the second, as Mo kept pressing on. Emilio P. 20 Gymnastic traverse with easy but intimidating boulder problem in the sky. Mo found a delightful island where he was able to kick off his rock shoes and lean back on a sturdy block for the belay of a lifetime. He would be able to see most of the next pitch, and communication would be decent. I was again grateful to have paid a pilgrimage to the strange desert towers of Utah, as this section somewhat resembled the last pitch of Ancient Art. It was straddle then walk a thin rock line in the sky with dropping edges all around you. Navigate blocks piled up in improbable perfect shapes. A v0ish boulder problem steeped in exposure led to a beached whale and lichen crawl. I do remember somewhere after that, there was a nice chicken wing that brought the familiar respite of using your own meatbody as a cam. Scoping out the last pillar, and mindful of the diagonal raps up ahead, I spotted Wayne’s tat. It was nestled in a confusing block, and I had a tough time determining the route he had taken. I did remember a key piece of beta: Priti and Jeff had written that Wayne avoided some of the unclimbed gendarmes by going left, where they went right. I interpreted this as meaning that Wayne’s “grassy gulley,” was accessed by rapping off climber’s left of the Rooster Comb, rather than climber's right. After belaying Mo up to my stance, I negotiated a double-rope rap going diagonal and left, using a horn as a redirection. It was a strange kind of sideways moving, and I used a couple of nuts (which eventually popped) to keep me hugging the wall until I arrived down at a kitty litter ledge. Mo made his way easily enough down and, through the grace of the mountain, our ropes got neither cut nor stuck on the sharp edges that guided our descent. Mo Pitch 21 When looking for a grassy gully to follow, one would obviously choose the one with 100s of feet of grass rather than the gully blockaided by snow. I start climbing by crossing a rock rib into the grassy gully on climber’s left. Staying mostly on the rock at the edges to avoid the choss littering the gully, the worst rope-drag of the trip began. Doing deep lunges up the gully while running out of rope led to another section of simuling the gully as Emilio begins following. I look for anything to build an anchor with to end this quad-pumping squat workout knowing that even with good protection a fall would be painful (thank god for all the pistol squat training in the home gym!). To avoid being pulled down the long gully, I set up an awkward anchor with an arched back and quickly belay Emilio to the top of the grassy gully with cramping arms. I see snow at the top and hope for an easy cross to access the gully leading to the Pole of Remoteness. Emilio P. 22 A lead with similar climbing, up and left past grassy gulley on rock. A far shorter pitch than Mo’s, but made sense with the belay ledges we were able to take advantage of. Adam commentary: Doubt set in when Emilio peeked down the other side of the gully and reported a long rappel to access steep climbing. Continuing up and left to avoid the chasm below, it felt like we were going in the wrong direction at first. With steep climbing to the right and what seemed like climbing the wrong gendarme to the left, I second guessed our route from below, beginning to suspect we climbed the wrong gully. Luckily, the doubt was extinguished by trusting my partner and the mountain by venturing into the unknown. We continued up looking for passage and the mountain would offer more than we would have ever asked for. Mo Pitch 23. Yet another determining pitch, a crucible. Emilio tells me to look for bail routes to the right seeking the snow gully up to the Pole. I traversed around 50 feet to the right and find easier rock leading up to a small ledge and patch of snow. At this point, we had access to the original snow gully down and right and we suspected to be at the south side of the Pole of Remoteness nestled in a col between its closest gendarme to the south. The distinct color of the rock made me think we made it to the Pole but unsure given our position. Could this be another gendarme? Despite an intimidating wall between us and the summit, the kitty-litter down scramble to the steep snow gully did not make the standard route seem like the obvious choice. An idea began forming that sticking to what we had felt the most confident on, the rock, may be the best choice. I decided to keep quiet about the ramp I could see up above until we deliberated together. Pole of Remoteness In our strange and isolated position, we recalled Wayne listening to the Talking Heads on his visionary downward solo journey and the song rang loud in our heads: “Letting the days go by (same as it ever was, same as it ever was)/ Once in a lifetime, let the water hold me down./Letting the days go by, water flowing underground”). We had kept repeating the line throughout the trip “Once in a lifetime” to acknowledge the difficulty of timing this climb, getting the right conditions, having the right physical preparation, so much had to line up for us to be able to make this happen, the song really felt right. We negotiated how we would get to Wayne’s “Grassy Gulley,” which by now we realized we were left of, and in current conditions, the gulley looked wet and icy and exposed and scary, and we were loving the rock. We thought we could see the summit of that elusive and by now mythical block, the Pole of Remoteness. I guess I don’t have to repeat the Pole’s conception and appellation, we all celebrate, love, and appreciate John Roper, pioneer of these ranges. I knew if I wouldn’t take the lead, Mo would, because dang it looks like it goes… and safer than the “grassy gulley” (I now understand what I already knew, that “grassy gulley” can mean different things. The way the Olympic Climbing guide calls some peaks in that range “4th class,” which in a way is true but… yeah it can feel really steep, and the line between fourth and fifth is mercurial. I’ll use this aside to say I do not think the standard summit to The Horn on Sawtooth is 4th class, haha). Adam commentary: At the belay ledge, I offer a minor suggestion that we stick to the rock hoping Emilio bites. Never disappointing or turning from an adventure, Emilio scopes out around the corner and with the equanimity of a sage, looked at me and said, “I’m gonna go for it”. I knew we just committed to an experience of a lifetime. Emilio Pitch 24 5.8 cerebral traverse and slabby head wall on dinner plates and spanning across air to find the south face ramps. A traverse walking over unevenly stacked dinner plates and positioning yourself on the lesser angle slab on the lower right side of the tower (which is usually hard to see because it’s obscured by yet another gendarme in front of it), places you on a ramp to the heavens. Compared to what we had already been through on the first and third towers, this was nowhere near as intimidating. Instead, this opportunity felt like a treasure I could not take for granted, for something like this is truly a rare flower and I certainly acknowledge that luck went into this well-prepared endeavor. I climbed trending up and left and then back right towards the ramp to steep prow-like moving, moving towards a no-hands rest ramp with decent pro leading to a large ledge beneath what was hopefully to be the final pitch. I will admit that the anchor I used was not SERENE, but at the moment, and seeing how possible the route ahead seemed (if, indeed, we were on the pole and not another mysterious gendarme which we had misidentified), it was certainly SEEN and appreciated. A literal big block of time. Climbing here was on very decent rock, and in some ways I was especially prepared for this section after onsighting horrific runouts out at Stone Mountain in North Carolina, where I had previously been 60ft runout on slab shaking my boots at 5.8. It was a gift to feel prepared, as though I had put in the necessary devotion and dedication to put myself in this lunatic situation, yet continue to feel a certain sense of grace and steady confidence. I thank the universe once more, for it used me as a flute to sing this song of moderate featured slab. At that moment it felt as if I had no control and all the control in the world, as if my climb had already happened. The Picket Range is wild and holy, the most powerful of teachers, and I have nothing but devotion to these peaks. Climbing this line and venturing onto this face unknown to human hands was not an act of conquest but rather of communion and of submission. Adam commentary: The rock on this pitch was on par with Tower 3 and the Pole of Remoteness in quality and enjoyment. Unique fractures and blocks improbably held together created easy moving up the south face of the Pole. Who knows if the lower pitches climb at this grade, but the upper pitches on the south side offered some of the best climbing on route. Future picketeers will have to evaluate if the lower pitches offer as enjoyable climbing as the upper pitches. The grassy gully bypass may involve a few more pitches of climbing on solid rock at the base of the pole from the south. Emilio initially said over the walkie, “It’s not the Pole” and my heart sank. Slightly dejected, I traverse around the corner and my mood quickly improves by the high-quality climbing. This momentary misunderstanding of Emilio’s words could not take away from the elation of our venturing into the unknown. Mo Pitch 25 5.9 As I reach the belay ledge, I realize that we are in fact on the pole, but just shy of the summit! Realizing the serendipitous potential we had to share a first ascent and to be set up just below the final steep section of climbing gave me overwhelming gratitude. I saw many routes that would go but my eye was drawn to the thick band of white rock directly up the middle. Steep and exposed climbing, high feet, and even a heel hook brought me up good rock with good pro. Climbing in a euphoric flow-state, I steadily climb with my undivided attention on each movement fully engrossed in each moment of time. I grabbed on to the summit blocks and released a long bellow from deep in my lungs. This was the defining lead of my life and I was grateful for the teachers who prepared me for this moment and my body for being ready to enjoy it without a drop of fear or doubt. Emilio commentary: I won’t deny, I quaked a bit on this one just because of everything, but I truly trusted Mo. When I heard his soulful yawp at the rap station, a certain sense of calmness washed over me, and I gave myself up to the rock with an attitude of devotion. Summit of Pole of Remoteness By far some of the most enjoyable moments of the trip, especially after all we had been through, after all the ground we had covered (from our early adventure up Redoubt Creek as a way of thickening the coat and sharpening our goat hooves against alder). At the summit, the realization that the sun was setting hit me. I was cold, dehydrated, worked, ecstatic, and more than anything, grateful, but we needed to find a place to sleep. My seriousness was somewhat underscored by Mo, who offered to lead the next two pitches since he knew I was worked and he thought we should push to False Fury. He was not about to take the lead from my back. Luckily, we were working as a team, and I was already having that thought. Now, at around 8:30 P.M. came the most unexpected of delights. False Fury Emilio P. 26: One long speed simul up false fury. After being fully ready to commit to onsighting 5.11 (near my absolute onsight grade), and having negotiated most of the ridge already, the return to fourth class was surreal. I did my best Dan Osman impression and ran up “False Fury” as though my life depended on it. I was especially grateful once more to Jake Johnson, for his donation for a pair of first gen (!!) TC Pro’s (basically boots) that made me feel confident as as I grabbed a rock to self arrest and kicked steps across the snow gulley to get to better rock on a right traverse from the base of the pole to the rock on false fury. Once at the top, I pulled the rope through an old-school hip belay as if my whole life depended on it, and did my best to haul Mo up the mountain, to our wind-protected bivy. At the summit, I reflect that I can’t imagine on-sighting Mongo Ridge with heavy pack, pitch after pitch. I especially can't imagine being there absolutely alone, no one on the other end of the rope. Wayne’s level of wizardry is astounding, and our effort here is but an echo of that awesome event in 2006. At the top, we set up our bivy on the summit of false fury, melting snow, laughing, crying, and trying to drink as much water as we can. Bouillon cubes bring a special kind of joy to the belly and the morale continues to be high despite Mo realizing his sleeping pad has gotten punctured. Mo commentary: As college cross country and track runners and general endurance athletes, I truly felt like we tapped into our decades of training for this beautiful last pitch. After following a steep moat along the left side of the gully to stay on rock, I see Emilio begin kicking steps to cross the snow gully in rock shoes without even a moment of hesitation with rock in hand for self-arrest. Once across, the rope begins hastening out of my hands and I know I’m in for some of my favorite movement. Speed climbing on moderate terrain. By the time the rope tightens on my waist I begin the tricky moat movement. Once across the snow, I remember running on all 4s up the rock without any ability to look at the route above. The rope would tighten if I stopped for even a moment to look up and I was not going to fall behind. I put my head down as I speed climb up hundreds of feet of amazing 4th class rock without ever looking more than a few feet ahead of me. We reach false fury from the base of the Pole after maybe 10-15 minutes as I’m gasping for air and I see a proud Emilio. “That felt personal”, I say, as Emilio gave us one last beautiful gift to close our our SKT of Mongo ridge with some of my favorite kind of moving, hauling ass. The morning brings snow and fourth class to the true summit of West Fury then eastward easy scrambling. We look through the summit register and find our entry from 2020, when we were the 25th group to sign the log. Looking through the thin pages, we see some of the names of Cascades legends… John Roper and Fay Pullen stick in the mind. To be in this company is a tremendous honor. I share a poem I have written with the summit of West Fury, as a kind of symbolic offering to the mountain. Grateful, humbled, and worked, we make our way back to East Fury, crossing the same ridge we did four years ago when we first stood on this peak. We sleep comfortably that night on a wide ledge on the “crux tower” of Luna ridge. Having a full extra day on our itinerary, we plan to spend that next day living on the ridge, maybe climbing Luna, and integrating the experience as we take our time going down Access creek. However, the universe had different plans and we woke up at 7 to wild-fire smoke. After brief panic that we would be trapped, a message from Monica confirmed we were safe and the fire was south. We decided to push out to avoid feeling sick in the smoke and had some adventures traversing the ridge to Luna col. We start our long descent floating down the mountain feeling like we were hardly touching the ground. We planned to push to big beaver for a treat of wine and salami. On the way to Big Beaver, we ran into a group of Picketeers coming out of what sounded like a gnarly and excellent traverse from Challenger down into Luna Cirque and back out. If y’all are reading this, we’d love to read your report and hear what happened to the injured climber… we felt very fortunate to have been integrated back into civilization by a group that knew what Mongo was, in our state of dazed elation to be in the presence of other climbers was a comforting feeling. We hope everything is alright and that your adventure was incredible! A last point of note on our return is that back at Big Beaver, someone had taken our wine and salami. Rather than luxuriate on the shore as we originally thought we would, we share the last bites of dry Chad’s Backcountry Catfood, change socks, don our packs, and get ready for the ongoing hike out, no boat for us today… What may have been upsetting to others felt like another offering to the mountains in order to have safe passage. We hope someone enjoyed these luxuries and we were happy to share because we had more than enough of what we needed. We sing along the trail as we enjoy our last fleeting hours in this place we call home. “On the road again, I just can’t wait to get on the road again. My favorite thing is climbing mountains with my friends, and I just can’t wait to be on the road again.” Gear Notes: Chad's Backcountry Catfood, homemade by Mo in Olympia, was the MVP of the climb. Approach Notes: Long

The traverse of Mount Index has been on Ian and I’s radar for over three years. It summits two of WA’s supposed “Difficult 10” peaks in one fell swoop, and has a legendary reputation in the WA climbing community. I first heard of it when I stumbled across the Difficult 10 list online. The climb immediately got my attention, but at the time I did not think I would ever have the skills or the partner to complete it. The exposure and route reports were pretty terrifying and looked so far beyond anything I had done up to that time. The route is very aesthetically pleasing, and can be seen from the highway. There are a few trip reports for the traverse online, most done by blue-collar legends of the WA climbing community. There is also Colin Haley’s report of doing the traverse in 24hrs in winter, which seems super-human to me at this point. Unsure of the technical difficulties that would be involved, we wanted two full days for the climb to increase our chance of success. Ian and I left my house at 1am Sat morning 7/13. We were hiking up towards Lake Serene by 2:30. At the lake, we followed the convoluted trail towards the West rim of the lake, then veered upwards for some bushwhacking until we reached the talus slopes. We followed them up towards the North Face of the North Peak until we reached around 3,300’. At that point we scrambled up easy but unstable red rock until things got bushy. There are rap anchors everywhere on the North Face from so many people bailing, and it is very hard to tell if you are going in the right direction. Ian and I basically foraged upward through very steep brush until we reached the saddle of the huge and distinctive gendarme feature. From there, we realized we were too far East and had skipped most of the easy “open bowl” section. We downclimbed slightly and traversed West into the hidden gully that becomes obvious at the top of the bowl. This easy gully led us straight up to a notch at the start of the North Ridge at 9am. The sun hit and it went from hot to very hot. The forecasts for the summit were in the 70s, but I did not believe it before we left. The rib climbing is super fun as stated in other trip reports and is around 5.5. Ian led the first section then we simuled up to the upper slopes where the brush begins again and a large snow patch is located. We were soaked in sweat and already dehydrated at this point. We melted and ate a meal there, then continued up some very vegetated terrain to the North Peak False Summit. From there it is a short and VERY exposed 4th class scramble to the North Peak. We arrived on top at noon feeling a bit fatigued but confident we could make it to Middle. We both agreed that North Peak by itself is quite a bit steeper, more exposed, and difficult than Johannesburg Mountain, to which it is often compared. After the North Peak summit, the traverse becomes even more exposed. There are massive cliffs on both sides the entire time, and even when the terrain is moderate near the ridge crest, there are still massive cliffs just below those slopes with nothing to catch you from falling. From the North Peak, we followed Riley81’s trip report on CascadeClimbers.com. His is one of the most helpful trip report for any climb that I have come across. Very concise and clear directions that made sense when we were on route. We downclimbed a bit from the summit, then made a rappel, then climbed back up to the East side of the ridge, then back down a long loose gully, then another rappel, this time overhanging, down into the North-Middle notch. A bit complex. At the notch, I finally grasped why the Middle Peak has such an intimidating reputation. Once you make that rappel, the easiest method of rescue is to finish the traverse, which is not easy even from that point. A helicopter rescue would be very difficult as well, and they would have to long-line you out. It feels like you are in a completely different world, with HWY 2 and the busy Lake Serene Trail at your feet. From the notch Ian led the technical crux pitch of the route. A full 60m gully with a few 5.7 moves. Ian led his way up like a champ and I grunted my way up like a chump. At the top of this gully we were on the ridge crest, and we simul-climbed 3 pitches to the false summit of Middle. We were totally out of water at this point and very thirsty. Luckily, we could see a snow patch ahead. We made a very overhanging rappel and made a beeline for the water source. We cruised right by the bivy site without even seeing it. We melted more snow, ate some snacks, then summited Middle via easy heather scrambling. At the top, we both agreed why this is at the top of the Difficult 10 list. The climbing on the peak itself is not terribly hard, it is more due to the amount of effort it takes to get there. I called Maddy to check in from the top around 4pm. Ian and I discussed going to bed, but we still had 6hrs of daylight. We started the complex descent from Main Peak by following the ridge crest and deviating to the East to downclimb a ~200’ long gully. From the bottom of this gully, we climbed up to the ridge crest via another gully and over to the West side. We then descended some easier slopes to a small gendarme where we crossed back to East side of the ridge. More complexities. There are some white colored slabs with snow, and a few vegetated sloping ledges. It was just after 6pm when we reached said ledges, and we were worried about the time/energy to reach Main Peak that day, as well as the availability of bivy sites at the Middle-Main notch (there were none). We brewed up and I spent 6hrs sweating profusely and trying to sleep on an angled 10 degree slope with swarms of mosquitoes targeting my exposed face all night. I somehow drifted off around 2am and awoke to Ian climbing down to my ledge at 4:45. I had overslept our 4am wakeup, and my punishment was skipping breakfast and just eating a Cliff bar. We were on our way by 5am after filtering water. We down-climbed the white slabs which were wet and sketchy, but they led us to a tree with a rap anchor leading down toward the notch. From the bottom of the rap it is a short scramble up and over a hump and down to the Middle-Main notch itself. From the Notch, Ian led again. The pitch was a shallow 5.6 gully, this time only 35m or so. Distinctly easier than the pitch coming out of the North-Middle gully. I quickly followed him and led the way up some steep brushy slopes while Ian flaked the rope. After 30min or so, we popped out on a ridge crest, which is actually the top of the South Norwegian Buttress. We simuled 3 very exposed but easy pitches to the “Wedge Gendarme”. From there we down climbed to a notch between the Gendarme and the North Face of Main Peak. From this notch, the route is actually quite obvious. The route up the face of Main is much easier than it appears at a distance, and we scrambled easy 4th class slopes until we were forced into the long red gully. We climbed in the gully for a few feet before starting the rightward traverse on a grassy ramp. After the ramp, a ledge takes you around to the West side of Main peak and the technicalities are over. It is a short hike up past the false summits of Main Peak to the top. We reached the summit at 8am Sun morning. We then put away the rope, ate a few snacks, and walked east to the top of the Hourglass Gully. At the top of Hourglass, we were about to make a new tree anchor when Ian found a new-ish sling already there. We rappelled down the first waterfall getting a bit wet in the process. We then pulled the soaking wet rope and made a second rappel on our own new tree anchor to the steep snowfields below. We then spent about an hour baking and slowly down-climbing the sketchy snow. Neither of us had an ice axe, and Ian didn’t have crampons. A light axe would probably have been worth the carry. After a short rock section, I found another tree anchor and made a full rappel down another waterfall and got completely soaked. This rap led to another very short rappel onto some less-steep snow. We glissaded down to the bottom of the snowfield, then picked our way down through the trees until we could make the traverse to the East Ridge route. From there, we stayed exactly on the ridge crest and proceeded with the hard-core bushwhacking descent for around 1,000’. My shorts and T-shirt were not very useful and my arms and legs got shredded by the spiky vegetation. Once at the saddle above Lake Serene, we descended towards the lake on boulders staying left to avoid vegetation as much as possible. As soon as we got to the lake I took off my boots and jumped in with my clothes on. My shorts and T-shirt were disgusting and the water felt amazing. After that we filtered water and made meals. Around 1pm we started our way around the lake. Around 2pm we walked past all the crowds of Seattleites at Lunch Rock. We were back to the car by 3:30pm and home by 5pm. My opinion is that this is a very good route. The traverse style, exposure, and amount of work required make it classic, and the proximity to civilization makes it unique. The climbing itself is a lot of work, but that is Ian and I’s specialty. I would recommend this route to any experienced climber in WA looking to test their abilities. It is certainly harder than any other route we have done so far in the state, with the Price Glacier + Noocksack attempt coming to mind as our other long effort. I am very satisfied to have this one done, and from now on my trips over HWY 2 will bring a sense of accomplishment, rather than anxiety. GPX Track: https://www.alltrails.com/explore/recording/afternoon-hike-6ecbdd6-436 Gear List: https://www.packwizard.com/s/Q0Fbxc1

Trip: Pickets - Picket High Route (Stettatle -> Wiley) Trip Date: 07/04/2024 Trip Report: Wyatt, Anthony, and I joined forces once again for a 4th of July Epic. We went for the Pickets this year, completing a south to north high route from Stetattle Ridge, through McMillan Cirque, to Luna Col, and out Wiley Ridge over 4 days. We summited Outrigger, Fury, Luna, Big Beaver, and a few other bumps along the way. For those curious, Outrigger is climbable from the south. We couldn't find any real info on this, but we found a bypass of the vertical section, climbing some low 5th around to the right. Wiley Ridge was incredibly pleasant and the bushwhack was short. Highly recommend this route. https://climberkyle.com/2024/07/04/pickets-high-route/ Gear Notes: Gaitered gore-tex trail runners, cycling out waterproof socks. Pink tri-cam for the knife edge on Outrigger. Approach Notes: We took the Pierce Mountain Trail up Sourdough since the main trail is closed due to the fire last year. Wiley to exit. Stay on the ridge between the two gullies on the descent, and it's not too bad with the exception of one cliff band at 4900 ft.

Trip: Mount Triumph - NE Ridge Trip Date: 07/13/2024 Trip Report: TLDR: The snowfield crossing to the NE Ridge still has significant objective hazards. I would expect hazards to be similar for a little while longer before enough snow melts/sloughs off that the risk is minimized. I believe I can claim the first trip report of Mount Triumph in 2024. Sadly, I can’t claim the first summit of the year. I was a part of a team of 4, and our plan was to climb Mt Triumph over 2 days, camping at the bivy site 2 pitches up the start of the NE Ridge climb. Our timeline was as follows: Depart Seattle Area 4:00 AM Leave Thornton Lake Trailhead 7:15 AM Reach the first Thornton Lake 10:15 AM Arrive at the top of the Saddle above the 2nd Thornton lake. 2:00 PM Arrive at the base of the notch 3:45 PM Departed the base of the notch 5:15 PM Returned back to the Saddle above the 2nd Thornton lake. 6:15 PM Back to the trailhead 11:15 PM Conditions on the way to the climb: -The trail up to the first lake is well maintained -The trail to the 2nd lake is a little bushwacky, but there is a defined trail up to it -There were a couple creek crossings, all were manageable (trekking poles were nice, but not required) -After the 2nd lake, you need to cross a boulder field that then transitions to heather/scree as you go up the col to the saddle above the 2nd lake. I’d recommend hugging the cliff to climbers right as you go up; the heather is easier than the loose rock and there is a faint trail to follow. Above the heather you get into much more loose rock, and though manageable, it becomes rather difficult to avoid dropping rocks on team members below you. -For the time being, there is still plenty of snow and running water nearby this saddle if you plan to bivy here. -The snow crossing was by far the most challenging part of the approach. After reviewing the objective hazards for a bit, and debating the best path, we opted to follow relatively closely to what I had read most trip reports follow, which is along the bench that leads to below the notch. Only one part of the bench showed any signs of recent snow/ice fall, which was unfortunately at the end, where we couldn’t travel too far below it since we need to start going up the face to get to the notch. We opted to move as fast as possible to minimize our time in the hazard zone. Even trying to minimize exposure, we still had a bit of excitement as some snow blocks broke off while our last team member was under the main hazard zone. Thankfully the snowfall behaved as we expected (if it were to fall) and stopped short of our crossing path. So the team member wasn’t in direct danger, but it certainly looked like it, and in the process of trying to get out the way, they unfortunately sliced their leg with a crampon. We took a break on a rock outcropping directly below the notch to bandage up the leg, and decide what to do. We decided the injury was significant enough that we didn’t want to spend another day on the mountain, and planned to make the descent back to the trailhead. We had dinner on the little rock outcropping, and spent the time re-evaluating our path on the snowfield. We saw one more exciting ice block fall, this time off the old glacier. This block made it all the way down to the bench that we crossed, and because of that, when we headed back we decided to traverse below the bench to better stay out of the path of any potential snow/ice fall. The snowfield was shaded on our way back, which helped with snow/ice fall risk. Also worth noting, the mosquitos were bad on the way up in the heat of the day, but were downright miserable on the way back; didn’t matter if we were stopped or moving, they followed us relentlessly. DEET had a minimal impact, I’d recommend bringing a bug head net. Lessons learned include: - We picked about the worst time of the day to cross the glacier (hottest/direct sun). Unfortunately, if you are trying to do Mt Triumph in 2 days, it’s very challenging to avoid crossing this snowfield mid/late day; your best bet is to wait for the sun to dip below the peak of triumph and cast a shadow over the snowfield, which happened around 5:15PM for us. You can push the first crossing to early in the morning day 2, but that will just push back the 2nd crossing on the way back. -We opted to rope up the first time we crossed the snowfield. This was to have a chance of protecting against additional glide avalanches. But because we were roped up, the last person on our team spent the longest time under the primary hazard zone as the steepness increased significantly above that zone and those of us in the front of the rope team slowed down on the uphill. This is why we opted not to rope up on the way back 2nd Thornton lake, col you go up on right First good view of Mount Triumph and the snowfield you need to cross View of the crossing we took on the way out (red), and back (blue) based on our changed opinions of the biggest objective hazards. Red X is far as we got View of our path from the opposite side Gear Notes: -Crampons were quite nice for the snow crossing, even with the heat the snow had some spots on the traverse that were quite firm -Brought a decent sized trad rack, but I didn't actually use it (so can't give any feedback there) Approach Notes: GPS Track available on Peakbagger: https://www.peakbagger.com/climber/ascent.aspx?aid=2573855 I also shared a few more pictures on the PNW Peakbaggers Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/groups/209335589972834/?multi_permalinks=1572843873621992

Trip: North Cascades - Mineral Mtn High Route- a trip into a Caldera Trip Date: 07/14/2024 Trip Report: K and I decided to try the Mineral Mtn High Route for our annual trip together, documented beautifully by Roland Tabor, and then by a few cascade climbers thereafter. Correct me if I'm wrong but we might be the first all female team to do this long schwack. We decided to complete the route counter clockwise, starting with a bivy on Ruth and ending with a bivy on Easy peak. At an alpine start of 12:30 pm, we started our hike to Ruth and casually crawled to the bivy sites, happy that a breeze alleviated us from the summer heat. We shared the bivy with a kind stranger and discussed the route ahead while watching the alpine glow light up the snow around us. By 7 am the next day, we were leisurely making our way down, curious to see what sort of bushwhacking was previously dubbed "blue collar" by Climber Kyle. It's a good name, don't get me wrong. I generally like hanging out with blue collar folks, so maybe this schwack would be a fun experience. In retrospect, we should have walked a lot faster and started a lot earlier. Finding our way to Chilliwack Pass was easy enough, but venturing up the flanks of Mineral was a stout challenge. Thrashing and pulling ourselves up steep, thickly forested slopes we would emerge into brief open patches covered in sticky sap to recollect ourselves. The leaves in the NW create the sap to prevent too much water loss, and it was on every leaf we touched. "What the hell...." either one of us would shout to each other, really just to keep tabs on where the other person was while completely emersed in huckleberry bushes and thick fir. The first gully was not difficult to cross, but the second had us stumped. Luckily, we had beta that the crossing was around 4700'. We climbed down past a dry waterfall and found passage at 4700', thankful for this information. The rest of the route was manageable but long. At some points, we had to choose between a consequential schwack or a quick class 4 scramble. Some moments were just pulling on anything you could see to aid up the climb. To gain the ridge by Mineral, we climbed a steep fin instead of a gully. Navigation eased once on the ridges of Mineral where the lush subalpine danced in a light breeze. We were happy to see plenty of water all along the route. The shoulder is a series of subalpine benches, a simple task to master after the morning's schwack. By 530 pm, we were 300' from the stunning summit of Mineral and decided to camp at the summit instead of pursue Easy Peak that night. So we spent the rest of the evening with our toes basking in the sunset light, watching Shuksan yawn... At 3 am, I sat and watched the sun rise. By 5 am, we were heading down from the summit towards the next saddle. The flanks were still snow covered although massive glide cracks and holes were forming. The snow was steep and suncupped, but we found passage on skier's right and hurried our way towards Easy. Easy peak and ridge earns its name, having long stretches of subalpine scenery and moderate slopes to climb. We walked down Easy on the unmaintained trail and waded across the Chilliwack with our boots on. The hike out felt long, hot, and slow but that felt appropriate given that this was a tour of a long extinct caldera. A wonderful trip! The Mineral route as seen from Ruth and Ruth snow coverage This was when I could take my phone out to take a quick picture of K in some shrubs Mineral Mountain micro terrain and gully systems First view of Mineral from the ridge and K ascending Minerals shoulder. A taste of morning light on Mineral. Looking towards Whatcom Peak and Challenger through incoming haze , Easy ridge in the forefront. Easy-Mineral Pass Easy ridge towards the Lookout. Thanks for reading and have a wonderful day! Gear Notes: Ice axe, chocolate Approach Notes: Plenty of bivy sites with sweeping views. Expect to find fir needles in pockets days later.

Trip: Pickets, some south, mostly north - Goodell to Big Beaver (abandoned Goodell enchainment attempt) Trip Date: 07/07/2024 Trip Report: Last weekend was a good time to get high and try to stay high. I set out with hopes of essentially enchaining the Goodell creek watershed. The idea formed gradually over the past few years as I noticed bits of beta here and there. The key pieces of the puzzle for me were a) seano’s solo ropeless descent to the NW from W fury, and b) that descending S from N Despair is apparently not difficult With this and other reports here and on Steph Abegg’s site I felt like I knew enough to attempt to solo with a bike drop at Thornton lakes TH, and entry at Goodell TH. The plan was to go up to O-H Col, on to Outrigger, to East then West Furies, down towards Pickell pass (visiting Swiss and Spectre along the way). Then Crowder, Pioneer, N Despair, hopefully find a good descent to its south, then regain the ridge and circle back for S despair, then back out Thornton lakes. Since I’d already climbed Triumph and didn’t want to pack a #4 all that way, it wasn’t on the list. But an enchainment including it would be more aesthetic. I would have enjoyed company but doubted I’d find anyone with the interest and time. At some point I deluded myself into thinking I could do it in 4 days. This wasn’t wildly off the mark but planning on 5 days would have been smarter. Long story short I didn’t complete the loop, and likely won’t repeat the part that I visited just for the sake of a loop. I haven’t seen anyone describe this exact variation of a pickets excursion. Still think it’s a cool idea, hope someone tries it out. It was at W Fury (just after being inspired by the fresh Mongo ridge entry from the day before) that I decided to instead bail East. This was partly due to falling behind schedule, but what sealed the deal was a cresting wave of snow guarding entry to the chute dropping off the N side of W fury, just east of the summit block. Maybe if I had a belay, but it looked too spooky to engage solo, quite a bit of exposure there. I had wanted to go early to make sure the snow arete on N despair was in good shape, and the bypass gully west of Crowder, in case the NE ridge looked too sketchy. But it seems I was just a little too early. Back to the beginning, various notes In chronological order - day1: There is currently no bushwhacking on the path of least resistance to Terror creek. The creek looked tricky but wasn’t. There is dry ground at the bivy spot. There was still a good amount of snow in crescent creek basin, but a little hard to say if it was friend or foe. The post holing wasn’t the stuff of nightmares, but was fairly bad. I must have tweaked my knee at some point because it started registering some displeasure quite loudly as the afternoon led to evening. This was my first concern for the loop plan, but ended up being problematic but manageable throughout the trip. Gully to O-H col was in good shape. It was getting late by the time I got there (theme of the trip). I grabbed my rock shoes and carried them as I wandered around the choss Ikea to get up Ottohorn. The rock scar has the one fun bit of climbing on the route and I guess maybe low 5th due to exposure, but it’s quite easy, didn’t need the shoes. Returned to the Col and had to take much care not to have my mat, bag, or bivy blow off the mountain in that wind tunnel. Not a very comfy place to stay. Day 2 - Moving slowly on the skiers left of the snow. Feeling the weight of the pack, the exposure, and the slippery dirtiness underfoot. Reached the snow and saw that I could skip the rap, though that could quickly change given the relentless heat. Maybe no longer true as of this writing. Finding my way from the upper Mustard area to the ridge leading to Frenzel camp was surprisingly complex. I encountered a lot of steep, exposed snow with uncertain stages of moat development. I had to stay cautious here. Abeggs photos were eventually helpful but it took a while to reconcile what I was seeing because of my earlier season snow conditions. Had coffee at Frenzel camp, filled up water and headed down. Did one rap at the bottom of that steep section. I started to notice bootpack going in my direction of travel. I’m guessing just one day ahead of me? [edit: turned out to be Kyle and co] Later at Abegg’s “30 ft rap” section (going the other direction) I found the rock looking a little less brittle just around to the right (east) side. Heavy pack clouds my guess, but maybe 5.5-5.6. Not easy with a pack. Outrigger turned out to be more of a mountain than it looks on the map. Descending towards Fury wasn’t too bad, but again surprisingly long. I saw two figures coming down East Fury. Later on I realized it was likely these guys. I tried taking the ridge up towards East Fury (Abegg quotes someone claiming this can be done) but ended up cliffed out and reversing half of that and rejoining the boot pack on the glacier. I was lucky to have lots of tracks to follow all the way from here to W fury, and beyond Luna. Must have a relatively busy time in this zone. At the summit of East fury I realized it was too late to continue, I had no realistic chance of getting to Pickell pass before dark, especially if I wanted to climb Swiss and Spectre. It still seemed not impossible to catch up the next day. So I decided to rest and enjoy the absolutely exquisite location. Unlike the O-H Col this time and place was totally calm. (zoom in for 2 climbers descending between rock bands) Day 3 - another slower start than intended. The climbing along the way to W fury is generally shitty though not terrible, and occasionally fun. I was glad when it was over and worried that I had already burned a little over 2 hours. I was entertained to see more love in the summit register for W fury in the past few years than in the before times. Choss must be getting sexy. In my haste I skipped reading the poems packed in there, which I now regret. I backtracked to find the chute mentioned by seano. Surveying it for a bit, I realized I was now on plan B. I labored over back to East Fury, somehow taking longer than on the way to West despite no raps. Carrying the 4 day pack back and forth was futile but I don’t regret keeping the dream alive for a few hours longer. From East I followed boot pack down the glacier, over shoulders, eventually to ledges cut by steams, and a brief uphill to the ridge leading to Luna. As it was plan B I had not as much beta here, and I was pleasantly surprised. Amazing views on both sides, and fun hiking. Also a little bit subtle. I cliffed out again a couple times, just when I wasn’t paying much attention to the gpx I was glad to have. At Luna Col dismounting my backpack from its perch felt like liberation. In the warm evening I carried almost nothing up Luna. I was vaguely under the impression that it’s a choss pile, which is not untrue. But it’s the good kind, very easy on the feet. No steep dirt gullies or loose chunky talus. And another surprise that I was surprised to have - the narrow ridge traverse between false and true summits was just super fun. I don’t know how I wasn’t aware of this one. After melting face for a bit gazing at Fury, into the cirque, and the S pickets I returned to my burden and continued descending. At a dry knoll the mosquitos formed an personal exoskeleton and motivated me further down. I plunged down snow that was still soft in the warmth of the late evening, then a little bit of ice (worms everywhere) then another gully (where a small stream disappeared underground and reemerged lower down), finally finding flat ground in the sandy bottom east of Luna after dark. I processed the past few days then. The character of the environment continually changing with elevation is always one of the most attractive things about alpine trips. That aspect was far from new. But the intensity of it was so much here. To be up on Fury and witnessing its elemental austerity give way to water and flowers and choruses of more waters, and so on, really got me. I think it was the impression that In the many faceted character there is also a unity. It’s all just there doing its thing, indifferent to us visitors, and doing it perfectly. (scale isn’t obvious here, and the photo is tilted about 15 degrees. This is where I elected to not find out) Day 4 - some talus and stuff and then a little jungle, but not much alder to contend with if you stick to the easiest path, which is sometimes faint and easy to lose. More schwacky then the approach to Terror creek but far from the worst. As I’m getting lower in elevation the thermal gradient is amazingly sharp near streams. It briefly feels relieving to pop out on a trail again, but the reality of banging out a bunch of miles on fumes in high heat sets in. I’m hoping to get to the dock early enough to maximize my chance of hitching a ride across the lake, and from there hopefully back to the Goodell TH. With perfect luck that’s exactly what happens. I find 2 climbers waiting for their boat scheduled just a half hour after I reached the dock. Veterans of the pickets both, I enjoy hearing of their 6 day outing and pickets traverses 30 years ago. I quote directly regarding the approach to Terror creek: “if there was a trail back then, we didn’t know about it”. Epilogue: I am so hungry, and my feet look like they’ve been mugged. Gear Notes: Whippet, rap line. Shoes, slings, nuts carried but unused. Approach Notes: Goodell

Trip: Snow Creek - The Chisel (North Face, 5.9) Trip Date: 06/14/2024 Trip Report: After stumbling across Jplotz's photos of the Chisel on SummitPost taken in 2006, I was inspired by the aesthetics of this pinnacle and the lack of information about it. (Edit: I found JPlotz's CC post shortly after writing up my own report! Turns out their ascent was in 2004.) Jplotz, 2006: The photo that captured my imagination Photo from 6/14/24 Working with only the 2006 photos, a brief mention in the Cascade Alpine Guide, and a location pin on Caltopo (later discovered to be inaccurate) my buddy Sam and I set off for a Cascadian adventure. We approached via the Wedge Mountain Trail, bushwhacking and scrambling south along the ridge to the point where we would drop down into the 4th class terrain and descend the 500 feet to the base of the Chisel. The bushy ridge of Wedge Mountain, looking north. The tower in the middle is not the Chisel. In hindsight, the more sane approach is to take the Snow Lakes Trail and ascend a gully (unless you have a hankering for a scrappy, scrambly day out) even though the mileage and elevation gain are higher. This way, you can avoid most of the schwacking, the loose descent off the ridge, and the heinously overgrown road to the Wedge Mtn. Trailhead. The second crux of the day (the first being the road) was locating the Chisel. Caltopo's pin is about 400 feet too far north, and this caused some confusion as we continued down the ridge with no Chisel in sight. After traversing a little farther and scrambling up to a viewpoint, we finally laid eyes on the pinnacle and felt a mixture of stoke and worry as we realized how much kitty litter and pine needle-strewn 3rd and 4th class terrain we would have to descend to reach our objective. The Chisel reveals itself! We hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, then started carefully down-scrambling. We made one rap off a tree, then roped up and traversed south across a dense 45˚ forest slope, using the trees for a natural running belay. Just when it felt like we must have passed the formation, Sam shouted back to me that we were close! Soon we were back on rock, scrambling to the base of the climb. We took a short break to settle in and rack up, then started up the real climbing. I led the first short step to the big belay ledge, a hand crack behind a flake. Up next was the 75' 5.9 pitch that I had seen referenced but never photographed. I was surprised by how protectable and high-quality it looked. 75 feet of 5.9 crack! I started up the wide layback, noting how much the lichen-crusted rock reduced the friction beneath my feet. At a good stance, I placed gear and moved into a section of good hands followed by good fists. More laybacking on flakes and solid gear led to the final section of hands with increasingly abundant and positive face holds. Topping out, I whooped with delight and stoke on the fun lead and spectacular position. I brought Sam up, and we took a moment to enjoy the views and take photos. There are three bolts at the top, an assortment of rusty 1/4"ers. We replaced the old tat and equalized the two best bolts, backing them up to a nut. Woohoo! Sam on rappel The scramble up and out was straightforward enough, though accompanied by many laments of the Wedge Mtn approach. Burgers in Leavenworth capped off an unforgettable day out! We initially believed we were the first to climb this feature since 2004, but the JPlotz TR reported a hole count of one at the summit and we found three. If you climbed the Chisel after 2004 and before us, reply and tell us about it! The little summit block of Wedge, a small bonus on the day Gear Notes: If you want to sew it up and have a solid anchor: Singles 4 to 0.4 Doubles 2 to .75 Approach Notes: Wedge Mountain approach is much more bushwhacking and scrambling. Snow Lakes Trail is probably much more straightforward than what we did, but longer.

Trip: Black Peak - SE Ridge Trip Date: 07/06/2024 Trip Report: Ended up with a free day Saturday and haven't been up Black Peak. Left the trailhead a little after 6:00 am after driving up from Mazama. No snow until the descending traverse from Maple Pass to Lewis Lake. Saw a pica. Looking at Corteo from Lewis Lake. Wing Lake still frozen but melting out. Lot's of running water on the approach which was great, I think I went through around 6 liters in the heat. Got off route a bit below the summit block and climbed some low 5th on ok rock. Great view of Goode, still pretty snowy looking. Probably 8 folks on the summit around 11:00 am, all were stoked to be out with great visibility. Quick glissade down to Wing lake. Took a detour on the trails around Lewis Lake that cost me some time and elevation. Back at the trailhead by 3:00. Great day to be out in the mountains! Gear Notes: Took an ice axe and crampons but didn't need them as the snow was pretty soft in the heat. Sun hoody was nice. Approach Notes: My GPS tracked 13.5 miles and 5,703' elevation gain.

Trip: Sloan Peak - Bedal creek Trip Date: 07/04/2024 Trip Report: High clearance vehicles only. Brushy road scratched truck. Bedal creek trail overgrown. SAR trail to Bedal/Sloan saddle was well flagged and nice direct climber’s trail in open timber. Tarn still melting out. Glacier in good condition. Few crevasses near top. Went high right then cut under first rock band. Significant rock debris littered the center of the glacier. Scramble route was still snow covered. Beyond my comfort level. Turned back. Last two photos compare July 2023 (from YouTube video) to July 2024. Gear Notes: Standard glacier gear Approach Notes: No water between Bedal creek and Bedal/Sloan saddle until tarn. Plenty in basin above tarn.

This kind of storytelling is why I fight to keep this place going. I would love to read the poem. thank you

Right. The whole shebang, nearly 4000 vf from Goodell toe to Fury top.

Well done! Very proud to call you both friends

Trip: Mount Fairweather - Carpe Ridge Trip Date: 06/16/2024 Trip Report: Coming off the heels of Eli's awesome climb on Carpe Ridge, Sarah and I also climbed this route from June 13-16th. It was a very historic year on Fairweather to have two parties climb Carpe within just a few weeks of each other, considering the previous ascent of Carpe Ridge prior to this year was the Smileys back in 2013...11 years ago! I already wrote a full length trip report on my website that can be found here, but I'll include the route topos we made below and a few brief notes. The PDF can be downloaded for a complete route overview on one page. Flew into Fairweather Glacier with Fly Drake, and made it to 10400 foot camp first day. Big 5700 foot day with full 40 lb packs. Followed the historically done route the whole way traversing left initially, climbing the narrow couloir and following the rocky ridgecrest before following open snow slopes right of the crest from 8000 to 10400 feet. Snow below 7500 feet was firm and awesome. Perfect crampon booting. Above that was isothermic slop. Put snowshoes on at 8k. After waiting a full day at 10400 camp due to active snowfall (8-12 inches), on day 3 we traversed right to bypass the big cliffs above the 10400 camp, then climbed up steeper but good snow all the way to where ridge narrows at 12k. The historic route of going left around these cliffs definitely does not go anymore...huge overhanging ice serac shedding crap constantly. Continued up past small flat 12400 foot camp, fell into crevasse at 12500 feet, slogged through deep drifted powder from there to 13400 feet, made it to south peak at 13820 feet and camped at 13700 foot low saddle between south and main peaks. Day 4 climbed to summit and descended standard west ridge/north basin route to 9800 foot LZ for pickup early morning on day 5. Ice nose was climbed by traversing the blue ice left of the aerated white ice wall that would crumble at the slightest touch! Had historically good weather. After we flew out there was even 3 more days of awesome weather which we used to try and climb Devils Thumb. More on that later. Carpe Route.pdf Gear Notes: Team Gear - MSR Advance Pro UL 2 person tent: This is the lighest alpine tent you can get. It's small and sucks to be in especially with my 6' 9" height, but critical for its durability and low weight. - One 60m half rope: Since we would not be descending the route, no rappels would be needed so only one rope was brought - Two standard snow pickets: One per person - Ortovox Pro snow shovel - Six Petzl Laser Speed Light ice screws and V thread tool - Small set of stoppers and a few small cams from 0.2 - 0.5 inch: We did not end up using these - Six single length runners and two double length runners with 2 wire gate biners each - MSR Reactor stove - One medium and Two mini fuel canisters: The non winter mix canisters did not perform very well, but the winter mix one we had did quite a bit better. With the great weather forecast we had, we felt comfortable bringing this low amount of fuel. My Personal Gear - Gossamer Gear Mariposa 60L Pack: This is my favorite pack money can buy....period. - Big Agnes Lost Ranger UL Sleeping Bag (Just the orange inside section rated 20 degrees F): This modular sleeping system has two separate bags. Combined they are rated 0 degrees F but using just the inside bag gives you one of the lightest 20 degree bags out there. - Thermarest NeoAir inflatable sleeping pad - Big Agnes Third Degree foam sleeping pad: I always double up with a foam pad when sleeping on snow in case my air pad punctures. If you cannot fix the puncture you're fucked without a backup foam pad. - MSR Denali EVO Snowshoes - BD Couloir Mountaineering harness - Pulley and MicroTraxion with prussiks and three locking carabiners - BD Cobra Ice Tools with BD Spinner Bungee leash: This was my first time using these and I liked them well enough for mountain objectives. - 1 Liter Nalgene water bottle with insulator - Petzl Sirocco helmet - One BD Z-Distance trekking pole: Lost in crevasse :( - La Sportiva Olympus Mons Mountaineering Boot: This is the only good mountaineering boot big enough for me - BD Stinger automatic crampons - Good pair of glacier glasses - Small plastic bowl and spork Personal Clothing - Under Armor wool base layer pants - Fjall Raven G1000 Pants - Polyester base layer T shirt - Under Armor Wool long sleeve shirt - BD First Light Hybrid Hoody: Great soft shell that fits my large frame perfectly - Columbia Yocum Ridge shell jacket: I did not end up using this - Cotopaxi down vest - La Sportiva Primaloft Insulating coat: Can't remember the exact model of this coat but it was my main big puffy. Only needed it twice for a short amount of time - Balaclava - Rab Endurance down mitts - BD Gloves - Three pairs of socks Food - Five Peak Refuel freeze dried meals - Small box of Cherrios and ziploc bag of dried milk powder - Two small bags of beef jerky - Two small bags of M&Ms - Six small packs of Fruit Gushers - Four Natures Bakery Fig Bars (AKA Barely Edibles) - Two small Shot Blocks - One Tube of NUUN water enhancers Approach Notes: Fly in to 4700 feet on Fairweather Glacier with Fly Drake. GIve this guy full respect...he deserves it!

As of our trip on Tuesday, air quality in the Triumph zone was still good!

“Missed It” Wall 5.9 PG, 5 pitches, II, 6/22/24 Alex Pederson, Zack Williams, Spencer Moore What is the difference between a first ascent and a wildly preventable navigation error? Intentionality I suppose. Due to indifference and blasé attitudes towards where a route starts, what transformed our “off route” miscalculation into a full day of adventuring is a commitment to the joy of uncharted terrain. It seems as if this route is new, but in the style of the times I am going to spray about it on the internet and hope no one climbed this in the 70’s. I would hazard a redefinition of traditionalism in the 21st century is to keep the “fuck it we ball” attitude and check with the grey haired locals just to be sure. Hoping to capitalize the long days of the solstice, Alex Pederson, Zack Williams, and I decided to jaunt around the green creek circuit. Late Friday after a roofing gig in Acme, I rushed over to the trail head and ditched my tar stricken denim for soft shells. We bounced down to the river and crossed over the log bridge with what I must say is probably the best tensioned hand line I have ever encountered. Whoever did that, bravo. We chatted about old growth, scifi books, and climbing plans all the way through the second crossing and up to the river. It was a little past 9pm and we had taken just under two hours to get to the cairn that marked our final river crossing. We navigated upstream to a calmer section of the creek and waded knee high water to the other side. After a particularly fridged barefooted river crossing in Cody in January, snow melt rivers felt cute in comparison. I still yelped at the sensation of water that was probably snow 45 minutes earlier. Barfie toes are barfie toes after all. At camp we hunkered down for a leisurely wake up time of 4am, and drifted off to sleep after some celebratory beers cooled off in the creek. The forecast turned from rain on Sunday to rain on Saturday. We weren’t really sure if we could complete the circuit given the unpredictable weather, but we decided to see how far we could go until things didn’t make sense any more. We scrambled up the gully to the start of the Mythic Wall. There was a fair bit of snow at the base of the route, and we made a plan to start left and then traverse right into the route after avoiding the worst of the wetness. I opted to take the first lead by tying in and stealing the rack from Alex’s pack while throwing him a bight of rope. Even though you could probably hang one-handed on the grippy dunnite even if coated in Vaseline, something about wet rock triggers the instinct to go somewhere else. To put it succinctly, I went too far left; Like way to far left. I went so far left that I was closer to the Green Creek Arête than the Mythic Wall. Whoops. When Alex and Zack met me at the belay, they raised their eyebrows in disbelief at my route-finding choices and handed me the two cams back that I had placed in a full 65m pitch of low fifth. I was basically told to “try again” and just go as right as possible and see where we ended up. After 10 or so meters of traversing I met a flake and finger crack that led to a ledge just big enough to mantle onto. Pounding each hold with my fist, I ripped out what choss I could and plugged a small nut and a black totem into the wall and sacked up for the moves. Some finger locks, a layback series, and a heel hook mantle proved to be the physical crux of the route. As I followed a hand and fist crack to the right, I gardened blocks and flakes from sections of the wall by either ripping it out or watching it crumble as I tested each move. After an inspiring serpentinite bearing crack system, a foothold blew on my final mantle move and I lost any confidence in slicken-lines and fault scour. I found a belay out left on more solid dunite and brought up Zack and Alex. As Alex led the next two pitches, Zack and I talked religion, machine extruded Mexican food, and literature. Alex took off on a #2 crack that bore some interesting stemming and jamming, and ended at what amounted to a perfect tree anchor. We seemed to be lucking out on ledges big enough for a party of three. His next block also started with excellent jams, leading to a precarious tombstone shaped stack of loose flakes the size of flatbed trucks. He shouted “don’t touch anything to the left of the #2!”, and jutted right to a ring lock sized crack that took excellent nuts and small cams. A tricky high foot and a crimpy rail led up left to yet another mantle, and a fantastic belay ledge. We were 15 meters below the fourth class section of the Green Creek Arête leading to the 5.6 headwall. I opted for the last lead and stemmed up a chimney with excellent jams and one memorable offwidth move. There was a great #1 sized crack to finish topping out, and a convenient tree to belay off of. We topped out, ate a quick snack, and carried the rope over to the start of the 5.6 pitch of the GCA. A party of two was rapping down as we flaked out at the base, and we exchanged pleasantries during their descent. Non sequitur: We found a pin anchor midway up the pitch for a rap station in an absolutely unnecessary location no more than six feet away from a visible tree anchor with tat. While I am not above placing pins in the alpine, I do so pretty sparingly and only when there is no other option. With ice and mixed climbing, I keep a few small pins and a pecker for iced up cracks. These pins were placed poorly in a very haphazard fashion out of the way of the line of descent next to a crack that could have taken nuts just as well as the tree that was already slung. We found another pin anchor backing up a 1.5ft diameter tree that was slung too high and choking out some branches. I don’t want to throw shade at anyone because people make mistakes and placing pins is somewhat of a lost art, but for real please pick a choss heap that is on the ground to practice hammering iron, and pack some extra nuts and tat if you are really trying to beef up an established rap station. We removed the loose pins and replaced a bunch of sun bleached tat on the tree anchor. Ultimately I don’t want to make people feel bad for ethics in climbing, I think it is a better approach to gently bring them into the fold. If the people who ended up placing those pins ever read this, the super popular route that you are climbing probably has established rap stations, and if you can’t find those stations please use pitons literally as a last resort. /endrant Zack, tired of riding the middle, sprinted up the 5.6. Alex and I topped out just as the clouds started looking evil. We hesitated before dropping to the saddle heading towards the South Twin. The snow was soft and saturated. With each step closer to the South Twin, we grew increasingly less enthusiastic about being up high. Passing squalls peppered us with rain, and we finally paused halfway to our purported link up. Examining two cornices on the S Twin, we hesitated further. Turning toward Baker, we watched a lenticular cloud at the summit succumb to grey blankets of overburdened cumulus. All across the valley we watched patches of rain sweep the range. We had a lot of time left in the day to tag the twin, but the super wet snow gave us bad impressions of the cornice hazards. A wet slide by Cinderella sealed the deal to go down. We opted for a leisurely lunch before our retreat, leaving the epic for another time. Bursts of rain peppered us as we began our first rappel. We admired Blake Harington’s line adjacent to the Mythic Wall and undid the aforementioned pin nest on our way down. After a second rap, we downclimbed the 3rd class ledge ladder as the rain shifted to the south side of the valley. Boulder hopping and generally avoiding killing each other with loose blocks gave way to our camp, where we rehydrated and snacked while packing up. As god has no small sense of irony, instead of cutting myself on the razorblade rocks we had been palming all day, I slipped on a wet root and an errant branch sliced a section of my palm open on the way down. As we made our way back to the car (and as I grumbled about how this kind of shit never happens when you go sport climbing) we looked back to the range, now certain that a bail was warranted for the traverse. In dripping glee, we made our way back to the trailhead and crossed our final log of the day. We celebrated with a staggering order of Taco Bell – which arguably is the most hazardous terrain we encountered that day – and deliriously gorged ourselves on extruded Mexican food, extoling the virtues of long days in the mountains in good company. Route Description: P1: 4th to low 5th class. Simul climb 65m of choss ramp moving left to 5 meters of a baggy finger crack around 5.6 P2: 5.9 55m. 10m of blocky climbing traversing right to a finger crack. A small downward sloping triangle block guards the only feet before the finger crack. Two hard finger moves lead to a layback and mantle, protected with a black totem and small nut. Move up and right to a hand and fist crack containing smooth serpentinite and fault scour. Pull through a small overhanging move and mantle again. Trend left to another hand crack nestled in a right facing corner for a decent gear anchor on a ledge with a small bush. P3: 5.7 30m. Follow the hand crack at the base of the belay ledge to a small tree. Move right and up a blocky crack system to a bigger tree with a good belay stance at the base of yet another hand crack. P4: 5.8+ 30m PG. This is probably the most fun pitch of the entire route. Great movement off the deck leads to a crack system that narrows as it moves up. The flakes peter out to a crimpy rail with slopers, with a committing mantle move for a finisher. Halfway up the pitch are three truck bed sized flakes loosely stacked on top of each other. Careful, these are widow-makers and will absolutely kill your belayer if disturbed. P5: 5.7 15m A fun stemming corner and offwidth lead to a roof with thin hands. Protects well with some ringlock to hand sized pieces. Top out at a slung tree that marks a rap station for the Green Creek Arête. P6: 5.6 finish with the 5.6 crux of the Green Creek Arête Protection: Double rack to 2, healthy nut rack with some hand size hexes thrown in for good measure. Location: Go to the base of the Mythic Wall and get off route by moving too far left.

Hard hats off for nailing the upper Mongo, and your new route on The Pole of Remoteness. It’s always a head-shaker to revisit that Wayne pioneered this solo. The Full Mongo awaits.

COME ON! That is just downright sadistic. Well done on a cool route! I can speak from experience that if you just go up from ramp to gash it is all fine.

So happy you asked about Chad's Backcountry Catfood ("Climb Like a Cat, Eat Like Fred Beckey") Here's a photo of a fresh batch. There's usually a ton of foraged mushrooms dehydrated into the mix as well, which really helps with the bowel consistency for those wag bags... there's just no dehydrated meal on the market that compares (and we've tried plenty!!), or that you can prepare in multiple ways (as soup or as a weird salty crunchy snack). I think the fresh ingredients from the Moline garden are key. If we heat it up, we usually put some fresh garlic in there too to make it seem more like a fresh meal. When I was first getting into dirtbagging, someone told me that the old heads like Beckey and Chouinard would get discount cat food to bring into the backcountry, so I would be out in rural Wyoming trying to be like them eating literal cat food haha... this feels like a way of keeping that tradition alive while also being kinder to my internal organs!

What a pleasure It is to read this and relive some great memories. You two( three) are so devoted to the art of climbing and great at writing too! Thanks, really. I insist you guys send an edited version to a magazine pic. Your pictures are amazing as well. Did you take any video? we had our stuff taken from the bear box too, after the northern traverse. I hope they had a nasty hangover .

Redoubt Creek. One of my worst bushwhacks. If the alder doesn’t get you the willows or vine maple will. Congrats for persevering to a unique wedding venue.

If you can walk up there without waking up the choss, you also might as well also tag the bonus unclimbed gendarme, climber's left of the Rooster Comb

Oh, the toe looks just fine, just walk down there and go up.

We contemplated checking out the toe, but it looked very steep as far as we could see from the east and we were running out of daylight. It would remove some of the toughest route finding and technical climbing on the route, but who knows what it would add. Maybe some canyoneering around that waterfall at the base. Damn am I curious what it looks like from below. The whole ridge is ripe for untouched pinnacles and variations on Wayne’s original line. We were focused on following his steps as closely as we could, so the venture to the toe seemed like an over-reach for us. However, I see the beauty in connecting his line to the toe. It may just add a thousand feet of vertical bushwhacking and an even more gnarly approach. But hey, some people are still into that kind of adventure!! Thanks for the kudos, John. I’ll say it again, what an incredible ridge!!

Thanks @JonParker! I missed this.... Yes, agree on all of the above. I think it is a fun and straightforward class 3 ramble @Hartselle Mountain Hikers, but then again, I'm biased. And, you may have guessed, I like to keep the beta to an absolute minimum to keep the spirit of North Cascades adventure alive. It is a lot of fun to have the route unfold before you, hunting and guessing like those who came before. Or, at least I find that part fun. Good luck and please post a TR with your thoughts on the route. It is fun to see how folks experience this corner of the Cascades.

Thanks for posting here! What you say in the video is exactly what I’ve been trying to tell people: this site lets you tell the whole story.

Finished the video for this as well:

Love it! And thanks for taking such good photos. I’m inspired to get to Luna cirque now. And the mystery of where the bootpack south of Outrigger came from is solved. I came through there the day after you from Otto-Himmel and had the impression of boot pack dropped in from the sky. Wouldn’t have thought of coming from McMillan cirque

Nice work! I think the traverse is actually one to write home about.

Daaaaaamn, nice work! We did two 16-hour days on that route. You guys cruised, it sounds like you soloed a lot more than we did. Very strong work and thanks for the writeup.

Outstanding!!!

There are some numbers on this site: https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/giffordpinchot/recarea/?recid=34143 good luck!

This is so rad!

Me too! Really liked the Dōgen poem.

Another fine adventure! Thank you for sharing with us!

A fine adventure!

July 10,2024 Someone lost a phone on the glissade from the false summit down to the lunch counter. I picked it up and am trying to find the owner. **Owner found!

If it is free YOU are the product.

That was you!! You were the only person we saw in the alpine despite all the boot pack up east fury on our way down. We figured you were going to picket pass and out the south pickets. Rad!! I’ll send you a few photos I got of you.

Wow! Amazing work, gents. Congrats! Thanks for all the work on an outstanding TR!

Bad to the fucking bone!

Trip: Taste of the Ptarmigan - Hot Southern style Trip Date: 06/22/2024 Trip Report: On Thursday morning, we set out to ski the Ptarmigan Traverse, south to north, over four days, with a Dome summit attempt. I know you have so many questions already.... TL;DR: bailed on the route on the second day when there was no solid overnight refreeze and at 10am we were sliding out while skinning the first major traverse, setting off fair-sized wet loose slides. Longer version: Desperate to find ski partners for a four-day stretch with a good weather window, I turned to the internet. To my happy surprise, J responded positively to my message on the TAY website! We talked on the phone and sussed out each others' experience and skills. I also convinced her that based on conditions I found on a recent ski trip, the Ptarmigan would be in good shape for us. So, we decided that setting out together wouldn't mean certain abandonment in a crevasse or either of us having to act as a guide. Her partner Z would also join. They were both on splits. "Going out with unknown splitboarders is risky business," @Hoo sagely advised, one of my favorite mountain partners (found here on CC!) and a splitboarder himself. After chatting with J, though, I felt confident that these splitboarders had good split-ski skills and it would work out. We left my car at the Eldo trailhead, stashed beers in the river, and got to know each other a bit on the drive around to the Downey Creek trailhead. I could tell pretty quickly that it was going to be a fun trip. We set out at 4am with skis on packs and the trail was fairly fast and easy for the first several miles. Then it got pretty damn brushy. Then we encountered the first of a few giant blowdowns that required crawling under on hands and knees. We turned up the Bachelor Creek trail and gained some elevation and more brushiness. We continued on, following some flagging and up the bypass trail which skips some brush and slide alder; there's still mandatory slide alder (going at probably B2, or B2++ with skis). Soon enough we got to the crossing of Bachelor Creek and came across two giant tents, stuff hanging in trees, and a guy doing some relaxed PT with a stretchy band. Hello! We chatted with two very friendly dudes who were doing a glamping+Dome+Sinister trip. They were combining the comforts of Fireball, a near-complete six-pack, and camp chairs with the masochism of the 75-pound backpacks they had humped up there. Are these guys awesome or insane? Soon we were getting our feet wet in the boggy melting-out trail and then postholing a bit in the patchy snow. And then did some real elevation gain and discussed how, wow, our backpacks probably weigh like 45+ pounds with all our stuff and skis and boots! Finally, up around 5400', we could see more of the route and the continuous snow, and we were quite thrilled to take the skis off packs and start skinning. Unfortunately, as we approached Cub Pass, it was nearly 3pm and the snow was total slop. Sliding out in an uncontrollable way into melted-out heather was demoralizing and a little worrisome; we ended up booting a bit to avoid more of that and continued carrying over the pass and down to Cub Lake (melting out quickly). The next stretch of time included about an hour or so of actual rain and about an hour or so of fiddling with an apparently too-dirty-to-function-correctly stove. Luckily we were able to heat water enough to get our dinners rehydrated. The stove not functioning correctly was worrisome for the traverse; we needed it for water. J said she would clean it in the morning and that would probably do the trick. Glamping Guys (I think Alex and...Adam? I'm sorry if they read this...) showed up -- one highlight was the Trader Joe's bag somewhat strapped to the outside of one of their packs. How it survived the alder, I do not know. I was tired. I knew we weren't setting any records with our pace, but how did it take us nearly 12 hours to go like 11.5 miles? I think I was in my bivy by around 8:30pm... We hadn't discussed an alarm time and there was still this question of the stove. Around 6:30 or so I watched the Glamping Guys head out with summit packs. Our party had slept in a little more than we maybe should have (but didn't make a difference in the end) and J cleaned the stove which did fix the issues so continuamos! After a short and chill bootpack, we were skinning again and ten minutes later arrived at Itswoot Pass. Greeting us was an older couple that we had chatted with the afternoon before at the lake and a second couple -- one of whom says his ... uncle? Grandfather? was part of the original Ptarmigan party, age 18! We look across the way and see Dome, and the Dome-Dana col, and discuss the time, crappy snow conditions, and all our options. We decide to at least get to the col, and we start across the long traverse. It's terrible from the start. Super, super sloppy snow. At one point, I kick off a little wet loose slide and it entrained more snow and runs pretty far, including pouring over a boulder that's halfway melted out. We get to a little rocky outcropping that we have to carry skis over, and we have another chat there at around 6200'. The mountains are giving us red lights; we can't travel safely in consequential terrain and we can't skin very safely or ski very quickly with how the snow is. It just is not what we expected or want for this traverse to go. We make the sad decision to bail from our traverse and head back to the ridge for some kind of plan B. We hang out all day in this beautiful place, watch a few natural wet loose slides come down (one quite large), keep an eye on all the climbers that pass us and head up and over to climb Dome. We hang with the marmots and the pikas in the rocks, build bivy spots in the snow. J has a lot of energy and boots up toward Spire Col about 600' or so and takes a couple of runs. She builds a snow cat. Our plan is to wake up really early and see if the snow has refrozen overnight -- if so, we'll check out Spire Col and maybe do a run down the western lobe of the Dana Glacier? With increasing freezing levels, I am not convinced it will happen, but try to remain hopeful. As the sun sets over the ridge, the three of us head up together and take a run down -- sticky and heavy, but not the very worst I've ever skied. We return to our ridge camp and Glamping Guys are there! They were going to leave the snow cat drinking a nip of Fireball but happily we get to chat and hear about their adventures in post-holing, the looming cornice on Dome, and how far it really is between Dome and Sinister. We really enjoyed chatting and following along with these two and I was so impressed with their smiles and attitudes even after 14+ hours of post-holing! That evening, the full strawberry moon (on the solstice) came up with cool clouds in front -- memorable. At 3:30am the next morning, my alarm went off and I poked the snow outside my bivy fort. Soft. No crust, no refreeze whatsoever. I shuffled over to J and Z and asked for their confirmation and permission to go back to sleep for a few hours. We all agreed: no go. Sigh. We packed up and headed down. The ski out was pretty alright! There were certainly a few fun turns in there. The slide alder was much easier going down. The crawling under the blowdown was about the same. Poor Z's feet were rubbed raw by the end of the trail. Finally we were back to the start and un-did the car shuttle. Sigh. The beers back in the Cascade River were located easily and we finally said our good-byes. Thank you, J and Z, for a memorable trip! Gear Notes: Drugs Approach Notes: Brushy

Trip: Washington Pass - North Early Winter Spire: Early Winter Couloir. Trip Date: 04/21/2024 Trip Report: https://www.gorobets.com/TRs/Early_Winter_Couloir_2024_04_21.html Gear Notes: two 60m ropes cams 0.05-3 2 pickets small nuts pins (didn’t end up using) five screws 9-13cm Approach Notes: No flotation was needed.

Lion Tamer is the Acid Baby of the Idaho Selkirks. Do it! Bring a strong partner and all of your lichenous choss wrangling skills. Full report/photos here: Lion’s Head – Lion Tamer (III 5.10c) – SPOKALPINE

I had an incredible backpacking trip in the Selkirks earlier this month. Among other things, we climbed Twin Flakes on Harrison Peak. The South Face Standard and Keystone routes get all the attention on this peak, but the locals agree that Twin Flakes is the best route up there. Check it out! Full trip report with photos: https://spokalpine.com/2023/07/25/harrison-peak-twin-flakes-ii-5-8/ TR text: I had my first “vacation alpinism” trip of the season recently when Larissa and I backpacked up to Harrison Lake to climb some of that delicious Selkirks granite. Our first day was spent swimming, eating bread rolls, and questing up a few routes just above the lake. On July 2nd, we trekked over to Harrison Peak for Larissa’s first mountain climb: Twin Flakes! After a quick approach, I racked up and quested off onto the first pitch of Twin Flakes. Among hardcore Selkirks aficionados, this route has a reputation as the best route on Harrison Peak and I was excited to try it out! The typical Selkirks first pitch experience was in full effect: somewhat run out, ambiguous climbing is often required here to gain significant features. I found a comfortable belay and brought Larissa up. The second pitch is among the better alpine rock pitches that I’ve climbed in Idaho. Full commitment laybacking and stemming brought me up a perfect corner to a stance, before another interlude of attention-grabbing climbing. Excellent protection allowed me to enjoy the climbing and sunshine, despite some lichen-covered rock. This ain’t the Cascades… this route might only get climbed a time or two per year. The final pitch had some sweet face climbing before I found myself below the “rock cornice” mentioned in the Laird guidebook. Feeling the exposure, I traversed slightly right, placed two good cams under the overhang (safety first), and made a committing throw out right that allowed me to snag a secret hold and mantle onto a ledge. A few more meters of climbing brought me to the summit ridge. The walk off descent went quickly and brought us back to camp at the lake in time for a big dinner on the lake shore. The next day, we returned to Harrison Peak to repeat the South Face standard route [ Harrison Peak – South Face (II 5.7+) ]. The final pitch of the South Face is just as good as I remembered! Gear Notes: We brought doubles of .3-3, a single .2, and a set of nuts along with a single rope. Strategy Notes Harrison Peak is easily climbed car-to-car, but camping in this area is worth seeking out. The Beehive Five Traverse [ Beehive Five Traverse (III 5.4) ] is right in the neighborhood as well! We climbed one route per day on Harrison, but experienced teams could easily climb two or three in a day on this wall, stashing gear at the base of the Standard Route.

Good effort, team!! Wish the pics were still available. I'd love for someone to figure out the optimal way to ascend Tower 1. I thought it was very cruxy/scary!

Trip: West Fury - Mongo Ridge Trip Date: 07/05/2021 Trip Report: In our relentless pursuit to ride the coattails of THE Wayne Wallace, Priti and I made the second ascent* of Mongo Ridge (the SW Ridge of West Fury in the Northern Pickets of the North Cascades). It is a Stegasaurus ridge which rises 4,000ft over a mile from Goodell Creek punctuated by thick clusters of gendarmes that look like they’re straight out of the Karakoram. [*2024 Update: Since our ascent, two more parties have ascended the SW Ridge of West Fury (total of four ascents as of July 2024, detailed below)] August 26-27, 2006: Mongo Ridge First Ascent Wayne Wallace (solo) making one bivouac past the Rooster Comb and Pole of Remoteness (with all of the route's technical climbing completed). Legend! https://waynewallace.wordpress.com/2014/05/ July 5, 2021: Jeff and Priti Wright make the Second Ascent of SW Ridge of West Fury, following Wayne's line of ascent but bypassing both the Rooster Comb and the Pole of Remoteness. They did not bring bivouac gear on route (bad call), and they did not make any bivouacs on route. Camp-to-camp in 23hrs from the summit of East Fury (base camp). July 11-13, 2022: Sam Boyce and Lani Chapko make the Third Ascent of the SW Ridge of West Fury, following Wayne's line of ascent, taking Jeff and Priti's Rooster Comb bypass, making the second ascent of the Pole of Remoteness (following Wayne's approximate 5.7 line), and making two biouacs on route (base camp at Luna Col). https://www.theclimbingguides.com/post/mongo-ridge-and-the-pole-of-remoteness-7-09-2022-7-14-2022 Early July, 2024: Emilio Taiveaho and Adam Moline make the Fourth Ascent of the SW Ridge of West Fury, following Wayne's line of ascent including the Rooster Comb (second ascent) and the Pole of Remoteness (third ascent, and by a new line of two pitches of 5.9R) making them the Second Complete Ascent of Wayne Wallace's Mongo Ridge! https://cascadeclimbers.com/forum/topic/107832-tr-mt-fury-wayne-wallace’s-mongo-ridge-second-ascent-of-the-rooster-comb-and-new-line-on-the-pole-of-remoteness-07072024/?fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAaZGeT7NzsHS7Pk4D4-BEz-9Fi4D7NGD8mzAiVTHkasQ-41sIDl0dhUtNzM_aem_PLTVnZmmLRYxsTBP00Ynuw#replyForm We first heard about Mongo when Wayne came to speak for a BOEALPS - Boeing Employees Alpine Society Banquet in 2015 and regaled a captive audience with his bold adventures. We warmed up Wayne's feature presentation with a talk on our trip to Patagonia climbing Aguja de l'S. Then Wayne came on stage talking about Mongo, making de l'S look like a mole-hill. Wayne climbed this route in 2006 SOLO, like a boss, questing into unknown terrain that easily could have landed him into mandatory hard free climbing. With vertiginous cliffs on both sides, he knew that bailing from the route was not an option and that he had to climb whatever the mountain presented. The difficulties on the route were up to 5.9, with an additional 5.10b pitch (a routefinding error), but the towers presented possibilities up to 5.11 if we weren’t lucky enough to have Wayne’s beta. The first ascent is one of the legendary, mythical ascents of the Cascades and even of the climbing world. After 15 years, only a handful of folks to my knowledge have even considered attempting it again. The bottom half of the ridge has four narrow towers which require you to summit and rappel in order to make vertical progress on the ridge. Long, double-rope rappels and hard technical climbing discouragingly makes it take hours just to ascent 100ft at times. Above these four towers are the “Rooster Comb” and the “Pole of Remoteness” (named by John Roper who figured it was the hardest place to get to in the lower 48). After Tower 4 and before the Rooster Comb, we scramble traversed low around each of these features and did not summit the Pole of Remoteness since it was getting dark and we did not bring bivy gear. At Wayne’s suggestion, we planned to climb camp-to-camp which was situated at the summit of East Fury. This means that while we did ascend the topographic feature of Mongo Ridge to the summit of West Fury, we did not truly climb “Wayne Wallace’s Mongo Ridge” in the manner that he climbed, including many more pitches of technical terrain. When we talked to Wayne in 2019, I told him that “Somebody needs to repeat this route, just so the world can understand what you accomplished.” It’s impossible to understand the scale of this route without being on it, competing as “one of the largest features on any mountain anywhere.” “You have to climb a major mountain [East Fury] just to start a most major climb.” Even with Wayne’s pictures and descriptions, we were still filled with dread as we attempted to route-find up each tower. While I am proud of what we did accomplish, I am still shaken at the boldness and audacity of the first ascent. Our tale should be considered a celebration of that event. Wayne called it Alpine Grade VI, but Beckey downgraded it to V deeming it (incorrectly imho) similar in commitment to Slesse NE Buttress (ref. Cascade Alpine Guide Book 3, pg. 118). We concur with Wayne's Grade VI rating, although I won't be even slightly offended if anyone wants to challenge the grade while ensconced in sofa cushions. Our itinerary: -7/3/21: 2PM boat ride from Ross Lake Resort to Big Beaver TH. Bivy in Access Creek basin. -7/4/21: Access Creek Basin to East Fury Summit. Left summit bivy in situ. -7/5/21: 23hr day camp-to-camp including Mongo Ridge and the traverse from West Fury to East Fury. -7/6/21: East Fury to Access Creek Basin -7/7/21: Access Creek Basin to Big Beaver TH. 2:30PM boat back to RLR. Here are collected links regarding Wayne's FA, for reference: https://waynewallace.wordpress.com/2014/05/ http://www.alpinist.com/doc/ALP19/climbing-note-fury https://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/21/sports/othersports/21outdoors.html http://www.alpenglow.org/nwmj/07/071_Mongo.html http://publications.americanalpineclub.org/articles/12200713002?fbclid=IwAR0iS9vNBvJ1XUQPOTPIXy8eymiTsuWFHI5TJtuAvLJUNb5LknfgeYgTriI Scurlock Picture: https://www.pbase.com/nolock/image/65948954 I won't go through too much detail on our approach to Luna Col and East Fury, since it is detailed well in many other places: https://onehikeaweek.com/2020/08/02/mount-fury/ http://www.nwhikers.net/forums/viewtopic.php?t=8021967 (specifically useful here is the traverse from East Fury to West Fury) Since we planned to do the route camp-to-camp (situated on the summit of East Fury), we studied the traverse from West Fury to East Fury in detail since we figured we'd be onsighting it in the dark to get back to camp. I will point out the "Red Ledge" (pictured above) just past Luna Col is reached by staying directly on the ridgeline from the col to begin the traverse over to East Fury. Past the Red Ledge, the next tower (called "Crux Tower" in some reports) is ascended directly via 4th class ledges and short 5.4 steps. A rope and gear would not be useful here. There is significant foreshortening here, as the route looks much more accessible as you get closer. Unless you're climbing in Winter or Spring, you will not be able to get across the bergshrund (as shown in the Beckey overlay), but instead will traverse left then right to reach the summit arête. Furthermore, the approach to the base of Mongo Ridge from East Fury's summit as discovered by Wayne is the easiest approach. While it is possible to reach Mongo's base via Picket Pass (either by navigating over Outrigger Peak "Southeast Peak" or Otto-Himmel Col), these approaches would be significantly more effort...or bushwhack for days up Goodell Creek. As you approach, notice the grey washboard streak with an overhanging gully. The route will start to the right of this feature. The 4,000ft descent from East Fury's summit may involve a lot of slab if the snow levels are low. We regret not bringing bivy gear on route. An alternative itinerary could be: -Day 1: Big Beaver TH to Luna Col -Day 2: Luna Col to Mongo Ridge Tower 1. Option to leave stove and tent on East Fury Summit as you pass by. There are no good bivouac sites on route. Just bring a sit pad and a sleeping bag and open bivy if splitter forecast. -Day 3: Tower 1 to either East Fury or Luna Col. A note on weather: The Pickets have notoriously unpredictable weather. Even with a splitter forecast, you can still have rain or even storms. Consider a tarp as backup shelter. Crossing the moat is the first crux. The moat is huge! Only found one place where it touched the rock slightly. On the approach, don't come down anything you can't go back up! Here I had to cross a giant moat (unprotectable compact snow), using both Gully tools (then passed the tools down to Priti). A picket here would have been very useful...but that's a big cost. Might have to bury a tool and rap/swing across the moat. Tower 1 was a TIME KILLER! Wayne reported a 5.8 overhang crux which we did not find. Instead we got suckered into a runout 5.10b overhang in the grey washboard gully. Recommend future parties to avoid this gully completely, and instead stay on the face to its right. Our second mistake was getting suckered into a difficult 5.8 grassy gully. Wayne later clarified that he immediately captured the ridge first, then went straight up the ridge (recommended). We started in an obvious chimney (5.6), gaining the face on the left then going right (many variations). After the chimney, we went left to the 5.10b overhanging grey gully instead of going up. It looked harder to gain the face above, but it is 5.8 if you can find Wayne's Way. The slopes to gain the ridge are all STEEP. We breathed a sigh of relief once we were on situated on the upper slopes of Tower 1, but route finding continued to be a challenge. A 30m rappel took us down to the notch between Tower 1 and 2. It seems possible to bail here back down the glacier and back up to East Fury. Perhaps the last legitimate bail option, so we considered the time and knew we would be climbing through the night. Tower 2 is only 2 pitches of 5.7 with no real route finding difficulty and went pretty quickly. The rock is REALLY loose however, so I was careful not to knock anything down on my belayer. Route lines are all approximate by the way! The first double rope rappel from Tower 2 led to the notch between Tower 2 and Tower 3. Tower 3 is the technical crux of the route and another TIME KILLER! It takes hours just to gain 100ft elevation. Once atop, it's demoralizing to look down and see the top of Tower 2 so close. Wayne reported a 5.10a bulge which I think we avoided by staying on and just right of the ridgeline. From the notch between Towers 2 and 3, a 5.4 traverse gains a grassy belay with 5 more pitches above ( 5.9 30m, 5.9 30m, 5.9 30m, 5.9 50m, 5.6 65m). Priti stopped whenever she found a good belay spot. We also hauled packs on 4 pitches expecting 5.10a climbing at any moment. It was real 5.9 climbing, consistently on decent rock for four pitches. Next time, instead of hauling just load everything into the follower pack and leave the leader with a mostly empty backpack instead. We took two backpacks on this climb to evenly distribute weight and bulk while simul-climbing. This was a good method. We consistently trended right above the belay. Higher Hiiiiiigher Hiiiiiiiiiigher Another 60m rappel deposited us to the notch between Towers 3 and 4. Finally, we got through the technical crux and we were losing sun fast! We knew we were in for an open bivy or a heartbreaking omission of the Pole of Remoteness. Tower 4 is another quick one. Two pitches, 5.9 then 5.7. It looks like really hard climbing going straight up! Instead we followed Wayne's advice and traversed out right for ~20m on 5.9 terrain with decent protection, then up following flakes and grass to a good belay. As you start climbing up, the climbing doesn't ease up, but instead is engaging, fun 5.9. Then 65m simul-climb to the summit. A final 50m rappel down to the base of the Rooster Comb. We were a bit confused here since the terrain opened up into a minefield of gendarmes. The Pole of Remoteness was indistinguishable among all of the towers. We knew we had to boogie so we took all the shortcuts that we could find. We noticed that the Rooster Comb could be bypassed on the right on low-5th terrain by taking another 30m rappel, then down climbing and traversing its Eastern flanks to a grassy gully. Wayne went up and over the Rooster Comb, not realizing there was a bypass. The Rooster Comb is very complex with several small flagpoles that required rappels. Wayne describes the final rappel off the rooster comb as a "diagonal rappel" that you can redirect off of horns, after which he flicked the rope to retrieve. There are at least two more intermediate gendarmes between the Rooster Comb and the Pole of Remoteness that we skirted around. Wayne found himself on their left side while we were on their right side. Wayne captured the upper 4th class slopes via a grassy gully (shown above). From here it's all 4th class to the "False Fury" summit. I coin the label "False Fury" because we stared at this point almost along the entire route thinking it was the West Fury Summit, but instead is fairly far from the true West Fury summit. Above is pictured our Rooster Comb bypass route which required an additional 30m rappel (or easy down climb). This was the first time we encountered snow on route, but don't count on it being there! Bring 4L water each. Southern Pickets in all their glory. Wayne traversed around the right side of the Pole of Remoteness to reach the col and summit it from the backside. To climb it directly would probably be 5 pitches of hard, loose climbing. From the notch between "False Fury" and the Pole of Remoteness, Wayne reported 1 pitch of 5.7 to reach the summit of the PoR. There is no anchor on top, so he threw a rope around a loose block and solo downclimbed, using the rope as a backup. If you are a team, consider downclimb-belaying. We sadly felt the need to skip the pole since it was total darkness by the time we got to the notch with a lot of traversing left to go. Once atop "False Fury", we couldn't find the summit register and realized that the real West Fury was maybe .25miles away separated by 4 more gendarmes, first downclimbing (or rappelling) down and right and traversing around the first gendarme, then weaving up, over, and around the others to finally reach the real West Fury summit. Glad to have put in the time to memorize the traverse beta between West and East Fury, it went off slowly but smoothly. One piece of key beta was at the end of Tower 1 (the last tower between the Fury's), you can find a secret 4th class ramp around to the North (climber's left) to find the rappel station that leads to the final push up the slopes back to East Fury. This is a 30m rope stretcher rappel, by the way! Thanks to Wayne for all of your support and encouragement! I think this route is more of a classic in the way that Hummingbird Ridge is a classic. We should really just sit back and marvel at the first ascent. It's a true Picketeering adventure, but loose rock, lack of bail options, and lack of bivy sites is pretty discouraging. The Pole of Remoteness still needs a second ascent, however! But it would a pretty doable day to get to PoR in-a-day from your East Fury bivouac by traversing high along the ridge and scrambling down from "False Fury", then reversing the route. Gear Notes: Single Rack .1 to 2, doubles .3-.75, small cams (TCU 00, TCU0). We like small cams in the Pickets! Small rack of nuts. 1 screw and 1 V-threader for glacier (didn't use). 60m single rope, 60m pull cord (three long rappels + optional pack hauling), 1 Petzl Gully (technical light ice axe) each, 10 single alpine draws, 3 double alpine draws, 1 quad, 50ft 5mm cord for rap anchors (used it all), left three caribeeners on rappel stations, steel horizontal front-point crampons. Approach Notes: Boat from Ross Lake Resort to Big Beaver Creek - Access Creek - Luna Col - East Fury - 4000ft descent on South side - Mongo Ridge - West Fury - Easy Fury

Trip: The Chief, Squamish. - Uncle Ben's (V 5.8 A2+) Date: 7/20/2008 Trip Report: Big walls marked the start and finish of a month and a half long climbing road trip with my friend Darin this summer. After starting in the Valley in June, we worked our way north and ended with a week in Squamish. We had looked forward to being back in an area where there was a “scene,” but were dismayed to find the chaos of the Mountain Festival in full swing. We spent an afternoon bouldering in the forest and got to have a session with Cedar Wright on Easy Chair. We decided to head for the high lonesome to avoid the crowds. We bived out at the Spit on Saturday night (the good, hidden pull off on the right side is now closed BTW), and began gearing up for Uncle Ben’s, something that I had had my sites on for quite a while. After running around town to pick up some requisite items, we bumped two loads of junk up to the top of Flake Ledge and fixed the first two pitches of Merci Me (heading left mid way up the second pitch, not towards the Grand), sans chalk and in street shoes. We bived on top the Flake that night (not that comfortable. Oh, and thanks to whoever shit right in the middle of the ledge like a wild animal). We met a couple of Quebec dudes who were rappelling down fixed lines from the third pitch. They said that they had attempted to do the wall in a day, but that was not going to happen. We shared a beer with them and swapped some funny stories. The fixed lines where not theirs, however. The owners of these lines returned the next morning and toped out that afternoon. From the top of Merci Me I aided a 10c pitch (I only had street shoes) that heads straight left. You get to sit on the tree for the belay. This is where we did our first haul from, bringing the bags up from Flake Ledge. The pig on Flake Ledge waiting to be dragged up the slab. Darin took the next pitch, a beautiful right ward slanting crack that ends with some airy moves out over a roof (we skipped the anchors under the roof). Above the roof there are three bolts, then some hooking/free climbing to the anchors. The rock blew on Darins first hook move and he whipped past the bolts and under the roof, in the full blast of two other parties awe. After the roof, I lead an invigorating pitch with lots of tiny hook moves in a row. This took us to our first bivy, just below the "classic bivy" that is written in the guide (didn't look to classic to me when we passed it the next day). We patched up some gear that got shredded on the slab haul and put on all our layers, as it was chilly. The next day we climbed to two pitches from the top. Chunky soup sponsorship? We watched a speeding motorcycle get pulled over the second night. We heckled the whole scene loudly. We woke to threatening weather both mornings, but our trusty radio, El Pepe put our fears to rest. It was pleasant climbing weather. A young Warren Harding? The final day we broke the first traversing pitch in half so that we could leave our gear at the rappel station in the middle. The last pitch was a grunt. Something larger that the #4's we had would have helped here. We enjoyed some lunch on the Dance Platform before our raps The raps took us 1.5 hours from top to bottom. We did 6 double rope raps in total. The third was a bit sketch and you might want to break it in two. I found my self 50m out on the rope with a huge load under me, my feet barely able to touch the wall, and my next rap anchors 30 feet to my right. It took a bit of timing with the wind and momentum to final stick them. Sketch. Gear Notes: Bring hooks. Double sky hooks and maybe double talons. There are a number of areas where you are 4-5 hook moves out. I found myself wishing I could use the hook I was currently sitting on for the next move. The black sickle has lots of fresh copper heads that should last for a number of years, but a couple of beaks, knife blades, and lost arrows should get you past any missing fixed gear. We only had to place one pin on the white sickle pitch where it looks like a knife blade used to be. Sorry, rock. Bigger gear than #4 for the last pitch; number 5 of 6. All the bolts are solid and most of the stations have chains. Approach Notes: Can all big walls have such a short approach? We hiked to the top of Flake Ledge and began with the firs two pitches of Merci Me.

Go for MonGo! That thing may never see a 2nd ascent , unless somebody from North Carolina comes out here Off to the Can Rockies, later!