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Trip: Isolation Traverse with alternative finish down to Thunder Creek to get back to our car. Date: 8/26/2013 Trip Report: Dates: July 10–15, 2013 Robert Crouse and I (Doug Walsh) took 6 days to complete the Isolation Traverse in North Cascades National Park, with an alternate finish so as to avoid a car shuttle. I dropped Robert off at Pyramid Creek Trailhead, and then drove the car to Thunder Creek Trailhead at Colonial Creek Campground. After hitching the 3.5 miles back to the Pyramid Lake Trailhead, we started up the trail around 1 pm, following the Isolation Traverse route for the next 3.5 days to get to a camp at the col between Dorado Needle and Tepeh Towers on the McAllister Glacier. From here, we hiked to Klawatti Col and then north around the Austera Towers and over Primus Peak down to Thunder Creek, which we followed back to our car at Thunder Creek Trailhead. We found the scenery on this route to be stunning, while the travel was 90% casual and pleasant. The remaining 10% of travel was not very pleasant or casual, but such is the price one pays for getting to see country such as this. Day 1: We hiked up the relatively pleasant Pyramid Lake Trail for 2.5 miles. Once at the lake, we followed a relatively well worn climbers path steeply up the ridge toward Pyramid Peak. After 3 hours of grunting up the steep and often overgrown “trail” beyond Pyramid Lake, we cleared treeline and found a nice spot on the ridge close to a snowmelt stream. Day 2: (8.5 hours) We broke camp around 8:30am and worked our way over to the glacial lake at the base of the Colonial Glacier. It was relatively easy going up the Colonial Glacier (no visible crevasses) to the col that separates this glacier from the Neve Glacier. From this col, the view of the Neve Glacier was surreal, as we witnessed a number of big crevasses visible during brief clearings in the mist. We took a nice break here, hoping for some clearing in the weather to facilitate easier routefinding on this crevassed glacier. Once we did get moving again, it was a relatively steep descent onto the Neve, where we roped up. Fortunately for us, the weather cleared as we proceeded, and routefinding was easy as we climbed southward towards the pass between The Horseman and Snowfield Peak. Robert on the Neve Glacier. Col separating Neva and Colonial Glacier visible above him. Once at this pass, we took another break and contemplated a side trip to summit Snowfield Peak. We were both feeling the weight of our still loaded packs, and decided to skip Snowfield. This was a good decision, as we promptly ran into some unexpected challenges after leaving the pass. Our goal was to gain the ridge running between Snowfield and Isolation Peak. We headed S–SE hoping to reach an obvious flat area on this ridge, but ran into a huge gash which was hidden from our view back at our break spot. This gash was deep and with near vertical walls, and thus stopped all forward progress. It appeared that our only option was to turn around and gain all the elevation we’d lost in an attempt to detour around this feature. Fortunately, as we were climbing back up, Robert spotted a gully leading SW onto gentle snow below that looked like it would go. We gave it a shot and found this path to work – only a short section of easy 3rd class scrambling at the bottom of the gully to gain the snowfields below. Solid line shows our path. Dashed line is standard route followed south of Horseman/Snowfield col. Once on the gentle section of ridge between Isolation and Snowfield, we headed down SE a few hundred feet to a nice bench with great views and running water for a camp. Camp at end of day 2 Day 3: (9 hours) This was a tough day. Not much distance traveled, but a lot of up and down, with much of it very steep. We started out on a gradual descending traverse to the beautiful tarn east of Isolation Peak. From this tarn, one can follow a snowfield (40–45 degree snow) up to a bench on SE shoulder of Isolation Peak. From this bench, we contoured west below cliffs until we reached the top of a steep grassy ramp that lead down SW into a drainage running SE off of Isolation Peak. We hugged cliffs to our right and above us as we descended down this ramp on very steep heather. I wouldn’t want to go down this way if this slope was wet. As it was, we slipped and landed on our butt every couple of minutes. Fortunately, this only lasted 45–60 minutes or so. This ramp led us into 100 yards of so of dense schwacking as we crossed the head of the drainage. Then we contoured (steep side¬-hilling) SW thru forest until we were able to gain the ridge running SW off of Isolation Peak. In retrospect, we thought it would have been better to avoid the steep ramp descent and simply climb Isolation from the bench on SE shoulder, and then descend directly to ridge (see dashed line below). After a short distance on this ridge, we contoured over to the snowfield south of Wilcox Lakes. From here, we climbed SE up to a col. From this col, we descended on very steep forested and then rocky terrain down to a large snowfield at the head of an arm of McAllister Creek. This was another VERY steep descent, from which we got great views east towards the double pour off of the McAllister Glacier. From the snowfield, take the obvious couloir that leads S–SE up to backbone ridge. We bypassed a section of very steep snow in this couloir about 2/3 of way up by climbing onto rocks on left side. We followed the rock to the top of the ridge on left side of couloir and ran this ridge to the top of the couloir where we camped. Day 4: (9 hours) The Devils and Mt. Baker from camp on morning of day 4 Routefinding on this day was easy. After leaving camp, we contoured SW over to a spur ridge running SW off of backbone ridge. As we turned this spur, the beauty of backbone ridge was laid out before us. We contoured SE across gentle slopes on SW side of Backbone Ridge into the head of the Marble Creek drainage, and then followed an easy snow gully (25-30 degrees max) up to the col between Dorado Needle and Tepah Towers for a camp (take the right most of two distinct notches at top of this snow-filled gully to get onto McAllister Glacier). This was a pretty mellow and pleasant day with easy routefinding and gentle terrain. We passed through a short section of beautiful old growth in the Marble Creek drainage as we turned NE up the snow gully towards our camp, and found the shade a welcome respite from all the snow and sun. Camp at edge of McAllister Glacier on day 4 The standard route for Isolation Traverse on Backbone Ridge goes up the Marble Glacier and climbs up 5th class loose rock to a rotten col from which you must do a long rappel onto 50–70 degree snow above gapping crevasses on the McAllister Glacier. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me. Unless one is on skies and looking forward to skiing the McAllister Glacier (or the marble Glacier if you do the Isolation Traverse in opposite direction as we did), I see no reason to take this route over what we did. Our route was elegant, scenic, zero stress and quite pleasant. Day 5: (5 hours) This day’s agenda was to cross the Eldorado Icecap and climb Austera Peak. I had done the Eldorado Icecap Traverse in 2010, and climbed Klawatti, Eldorado, Dorado Needle and Primus, but missed Austera due to bad weather. I’ve been wanting to get back and climb Austera ever since to see what I had missed, so I figured what better way to approach Austera than the Isolation Traverse? Why climb a mountain in only 2 days when you can do it in 6 and see some new gorgeous country in the process? We left camp at around 8am and wandered over to Klawatti Col (flat area west of Klawatti Peak). Eldorado Peak from Klawatti Col We crossed over onto the Klawatti Glacier via a col that required maybe 15–20 feet of steep downclimbing (low 5th) on East side. We slung a boulder with a runner and rapped this to be safe. From here, we headed NE and then N to highest point of Klawatti Glacier at base of Austera Peak. We then dropped our glacier gear and scrambled north towards the summit towers. Once at the base of the twin towers, we worked right on a ledge on right most tower, wrapping around to NE side of the tower. From the end of the ledge, climb up steep class 3–4 to top of this tower. Descend into notch between towers on steep 4th class rock. From this notch, we walked up some remnant snow (not visible in photo below) until we were able to get onto rock on left tower at a good spot. From here, 20–25 feet of rock (class 4+, maybe a couple of 5.0 moves) put us on the summit. Eldorado Icecap from Austera Peak After some time gawking at the amazing view of the Eldorado Icecap and the McAllister Glacier’s twin pour off, we rapped off the summit and scrambled back to the rest of our gear at top of Klawatti Glacier. From here, we descended the Klawatti Glacier, heading east along edge of Austera Towers, until we reached a nice snow free ledge overlooking Klawatti Lake at around 1pm. We decided to take a break here, and eventually decided to make this camp. There aren’t many opportunities to spend time enjoying a place like this, and we had two days of food left, so there was no need to push on to the glacial lake at base of Borealis Glacier as we had originally planned for the day. Day 6: (11.5 hours) After a bit of a lazy morning, we left camp at 9am and headed up the North Klawatti Glacier towards Primus Peak. A mere two hours after leaving camp, we were on the summit. Robert summiting Primus Peak Klawatti Lake from Primus Peak After some time taking in more crazy amazing views (especially loved the gaping maw of the Thunder Creek draninage some 7,000 vertical below us to the north), we headed down the east ridge of Primus (class 2 if you stay to the south of a prominent rocky outcrop on this ridge just below the summit) to Lucky Pass. From Lucky Pass, we traversed NW across the Borealis Glacier until we could find and easy way down into the glacial lake basin below the cliffs. We walked past this glacial tarn on the east side, crossed an outlet stream not shown on the topo, and then worked our way north on a prominent moraine to the top of the forested ridge that leads N–NE down to McAllister Camp on the Thunder Creek Trail. After a lunch break, we began the descent down this ridge around 2pm. The descent began gently, on a well-defined climber’s trail. Soon however, we entered forest with brushy undergrowth and the trail became much more difficult to follow. At one point, we got off the ridge crest and into dense brush on the west side of the ridge. Once we realized our error, we had to schwack up steep slopes to regain the ridge proper. From that point on, we were much more careful to stay right on the ridge crest, although this was not always well-defined enough to be obvious. As we reached point 4835, the ridge steepened considerably. At 4,200 ft, the ridge steepened even more, and we were both glad we were going down instead of up. There were a number of very steep sections to navigate, some of which required we turn around and face the slope using tree limbs and roots as handholds as we downclimbed slowly. At one point, I found myself going down a very steep climber’s trail full of gravel and dirt. I looked down below me and realized that if I slipped here (a very real possibility), I would likely slide/tumble down a couple of hundred feet and over a minor cliff band. A bit unnerved, I noticed what looked like a trail contouring off to the left. We took this “trail” as it contoured beneath a small cliff band, and thankfully it led to easier ground. After what seemed like an eternity to our feet and thighs, we finally reached the bottom of this ridge and the Thunder Creek Trail around 6:30 pm. As the bugs were biting fiercely, and our car was only 6 miles by trail away, we went on autopilot and cranked out the remaining trail to our car. Nothing like 6 days of off trail travel in the North Cascades to make one appreciate the ease of mechanized travel. ) But oh what a glorious trip this was! Gear Notes: – one 60 meter rope (30 meters would have been sufficient) – helmet – standard glacier travel gear – ice axe and crampons.

There are numbers, there are statistics, and there are articles on climbing accidents. You can read ANAM and put together your own chart if you wish. Claiming there are no data or that risk can't be quantified is lazy at best and inviting trouble at worst. To Bob's comment, my kids and I talk about how much luck and skill are involved in the games we play. Chess is all skill. Chutes and Ladders is all luck. For the ones in between, we try to assign a percentage. Settlers of Catan, for example, might be 70% skill and 30% luck. Cribbage might be 70% luck and 30% skill. Climbing accidents can be viewed this way as well.. Some are 100% human error (rapped off end of the rope), all luck (a stone falls down Everest and beans poor Ueli Steck), and many are something in between (getting struck by lightning in an alpine thunderstorm). I advise, support, and invest in biotech and medtech companies. There are at least as many types of risk in these ventures as there are in alpine climbing. People's careers, reputations, and money are on the line, so we can't just throw up our hands and say, "I don't know" when it comes to evaluating risk. We try to break down the different types of risk, work to see what can be avoided or mitigated, and determine when there are unacceptable risks. It's never easy, and we still get it wrong, but we analyze as much as we can in hopes of making the most informed decision we can. In climbing, we don't get to learn from our mistakes very often as a single error can kill us, so it's important to learn what we can from the mistakes of others. Adding statistics and probability into these analyses allows us to learn from a larger data set than just a few examples.

OK, this is back on my list! I'd been on either end many times over the years, but I can see that I need to connect them.

Less climbing gear means more alcohol and fishing gear! Or forget the Enchantments and drive to the Bugaboos and climb the best 5.4 on the planet.

5.4 will limit you . northwest buttress on Stuart goes about 5.0 if you stop at the ridge crest. to continue to the summit, finding a 5.4 line on west ridge of Stuart might be tricky, likely more like 5.6.. north ridge of stuart (50 classic climbs) goes about 5.6 northwest buttress and northeast couloir (possible ice or snow) on Argonaut go about 5.6. cross to the south side of mountaineer pass and the south face of Argonaut may have a line at 5.4. east ridge of Sherpa from mountaineer pass goes about 5.5. northeast face of false summit on Stuart supposedly goes at 5.6. possibly a 5-easy line on northwest face of Colchuck, but that is undocumented as far as I know. all of these routes will have some snow on approach, even in August. I've climbed ice in Argonaut's northeast couloir Labor Day weekend.... all of these would be fairly long days for a family group (unless your family name is Lowe), but none are terribly committing - escape/retreat would be reasonable in most cases. do take fishing gear for Stuart Lake.

I do think attempts to quantify risk are valuable, even if they are flawed, because a better understanding of the risk/reward ratio might change a few people's minds, change their behavior, and perhaps spare them from a life-changing/ending accident. Or it could help them enjoy hundreds of days of climbing, skiing, or other reportedly risky activity without a serious incident. Unfortunately, many of us don't do a good job of evaluating statistics because we draw conclusions based on stories from people we know or read about and ignore or misrepresent statistical data on the subject in question. If someone says they have same risk of dying in a rappelling accident as being hit by a bus in a crosswalk should you believe them? What if your wife asks you to quit alpine climbing because it is too dangerous and take up paragliding instead? How do the dangers of these compare with texting and driving? What if someone could show you data that the chances of a rappelling accident go up 10x if you don't tie knots in the ends of your ropes? There will always be unknowns in climbing, but attempts to quantify risk can make us both wiser and safer. Here are two illustrations from other parts of life: If your doctor tells you that you late stage Pancreatic cancer, have a 98% chance of being killed by it within 2 years, and have a 10% chance of responding to a new drug that could allow you to live 10 years but will definitely make your next year miserable and drain your savings, would you get the therapy? Do you think you will "beat the odds'"? Will you go for the experimental drug? Do homeopathy instead and focus on getting the best out of the time you have? Understanding the statistics can lead to better decisions and better quality of life. The act of building a mathematical model for your personal finances, even if it is too simple and even if it is wrong, is valuable because it forces you to write down and quantify the assumptions that go into the model. Then once you understand the model you can change the assumptions, variables, and inputs and see what happens in different scenarios. Should you retire at 60 or 65? Get disability insurance? Can you afford to take a year to travel? Should you pay down loans, take that expensive vacation, max out retirement investment, or fix that plumbing leak? Everything has costs and near-term and long-term consequences. Quantifying these can be informative and lead to more informed decisions and a better life. Building a simple model of risk in climbing, even if it is imperfect and incomplete, could lead to better climbing decisions, better conversations between climbing partners about risk, and perhaps fewer injuries and deaths for climbers. That said, if you read ANAM and can learn to avoid making the top three types of human errors you will be much safer for it. Bring on the math!

I'm happy to accept that Rad's calculator was oversimplified for fatal events. Do you know if it is even suitable for ball park estimates? I tried to dig deeper, but couldn't really come up with a good formula/method. For comparison, I did a bit of googling on base jumping. Apparently, base jumping has a death rate on the order of 1 death / 2000 jumps (contrast with the 1 death / 100,000 ski tours targeted by R=1 in the link from above: http://arc.lib.montana.edu/snow-science/objects/issw-2012-501-505.pdf). This provides a bit more context for the unacceptability of a 0.1 % failure rate in fatal-outcome activities. I would not climb/rappel if I thought rappelling was twice as deadly as base jumping on a per rappel basis. I tried to find complete statistics for rappel deaths/failures, but came up a bit short. On Steph's website (http://www.stephabegg.com/home/projects/accidentstats) she says that rappelling accounts for ~3 % of mountaineering accidents, but doesnt differentiate injuries/deaths. Another point of contrast, mountaineering on denali has a fatality rate of 0.063/1000 hrs of performance - how many hours are in 2000 base jumps? I bring up risk assessment because I feel that it is poorly understood at the true upper levels of mountain sport (e.g. throw out guided parties on 8000m peaks etc). The further we get from typical/average behavior, the less accurate our understanding of risk becomes. I think it is extremely difficult to compare the risk exposure of Honnold versus Marc, versus ColinH, versus Loren. Its a combination of frequency of exposure and specific hazards of each objective. If somebody came to you and said that your particular approach gives you a mean predicted life span of a couple years, would you change behavior? Taking it a step further, is there a level of risk where instead of applauding, we should just stay quiet? Is there a level where friends/family should intervene?

Wow. My palms were sweating reading it. Family, exposure, nightfall, gear anchors, no light. Yowza. Glad it all worked!

Yeah definitely need to think about a coffee table book Jason.

well of course it would be near impossible to make a even half decent number, I think that if one looks through any or all of the Accidents in North America Mountaineering, pretty much all of them detail the lack of judgement that lead to the accident. I don't really want to speak for Bob, but I can remember a lot of bad decisions were good luck prevented me from a true accident. And one time were bad decision and lack of good luck (bad luck?) were it went bad. In that case though, good luck prevented me from death so I guess it is all good luck too? my head hurts.