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Trip: North Cascades NP - Mt Challenger via Easy Ridge High Route Trip Date: 06/30/2023 Trip Report: Over a period of four days, I solo climbed Mt Challenger, approaching from the Easy Ridge High Route. Three years ago, I clambered up to Tapto Lakes and was awestruck by the sight of Mt Challenger. I have always wanted to climb it since. In climbing Challenger, I had to use almost everything in my backcountry and climbing toolkit. The trip felt like a culmination of all the outdoor skills I have learned so far. Day 1 Permits I arrived at the Glacier service center at around 3pm. According to the ranger, I would be the first person to make my way up to Perfect Pass this season. As I explained my itinerary and possible goal of climbing Mt Challenger, he became even more excited about the trip than I was. In reality, I still felt unsure if I would actually make it up there, so I didn’t want to hype myself up too much. There would be so many factors standing in my way: the river crossing, the route-finding and bushwacking, the infamous impasse, and ultimately the glacier conditions. I sheepishly told the ranger I would be happy just to make it up to Perfect Pass. Hannegan to Copper Creek It took me about 3 hours to reach camp. This would be my fifth time hiking Hannegan Pass so I was in familiar territory. When I arrived at Copper Creek, I met a ranger camped out on the over side of the creek. He asked where I was heading next. When I told him I would possibly go up all the way to Mt Challenger, he was stoked (again, even more than I was). Day 2 Crossing the Chilliwack The next morning I broke camp at around 5:30 am and made my journey up to Easy Ridge. The Chilliwack river crossing was not as bad as I had thought. I found a short, shallow section to cross, the water only coming up to my ankles. My crocs definitely came in handy here. There really was no trail once I reached the other side of the river. Eventually, I linked up with the trail by going in the general direction of Easy Creek (listen for it) and upwards to Easy Ridge. For the most part, the trail was straightforward and never too steep. Other than maybe the first section, I would not really consider it bushwacking (that would come later). The overgrowth was all just blueberry bushes anyways, not nasty things like devil’s club. Easy Ridge Eventually the ground got rockier and the trees became shorter and fewer. The trail flattened into a meadow dotted with pools of melted snow. I had reached Easy Ridge. Further along, I was finally able to see sweeping views on all sides. To the left, I sighted Red Face mountain and knew Tapto Lakes was nested in the cirque hidden below it. To the front, I got my first view of Mt Challenger and was already plotting my route across the glacier. For the most part, the Easy Ridge trail was indeed easy but there were still some notable obstacles. Snowfields still clung onto parts of the trail. In one section, I had to take out my ax and change into my boots and crampons to manage a steep snow traverse. A slip here would have resulted in tumbling down hundreds of feet down into the valley. There was also an unexpected scramble up loose rock and scree right before reaching Easy Peak. The Nearly Perfect Impass As I reached a snow covered saddle near the end of the ridge, I knew I had to descend into the valley and then confront the infamous Perfect Impass. My descent was in steep snow. Looking back now, I should have descended earlier before the saddle, which would’ve made the descent gentler and snow-free. While descending, I also wasn’t sure the exact location of Perfect Impass. I kept thinking it was sooner than it actually was. As a result, I maintained my elevation and refused to descend even more like I should have. My route was harder and full of scree by not descending properly. You can’t miss Perfect Impass. It cleaves the valley in two and literally stops you in your tracks. When I finally reached it, I first tried to find a way to bypass it lower down, but halfway up the chasm were unstable snow bridges. Since I didn’t want to descend the supposed 1000’ to circumvent the impasse, the only other way was higher up. I don’t remember the exact movements but roughly speaking I climbed high, down climbed, made an exposed traverse, then down climbed again into the gully. From there it was an easy climb out where I encountered a rappel station and a cairn marking it. Routes and Rocks In The Mt. Challenger Quadrangle (1968), Tabor and Crowder (East side of Impass looking back) Perfect Pass Now, I had to descend even further and make my way around a buttress. The way was dotted with snowfields, which provided a welcome relief from the heather, scree, and slabs. The snow was still firm and I never punched in.After rounding the buttress, I finally reached a point where I could see the way up to Perfect Pass. For some reason, I did not climb up the heather and dry rock to the left and instead went up wet slabs scabbed with slippery lichen. All the slipperiness made for a slow climb up to the pass. I finally reached Perfect Pass at around 8:00 pm and set-up camp, trying to get to sleep as quickly as possible for tomorrow’s summit day. Day 3 Challenger Glacier Next morning, I woke up a little late at 5:30 am. After an hour-long breakfast of ramen, I lazily made my way across the Challenger Glacier, easily avoiding the obvious crevasses. The snow was firm and gave good traction. Partway across, I encountered a steep ramp that gave more direct access to the Challenger Arm. I decided to take this supposed shortcut, but after climbing three-fourths of the way up, I encountered a huge bergschrund blocking my way. I was pretty dispirited at this point and even considered turning back. There was no quick way around the bergschrund so I had to downclimb and continue traversing the glacier to the lateral moraine on the leftmost part of the arm. I carefully downclimbed, trying not to think of the crevasses below. As I continued my way to the arm, mist started spiraling out from Luna Basin. I thought it would subside, but soon it crested even higher, blotting out the sun. Wave after wave, the mist now rolled onto parts of the glacier arm. When I finally reached the arm, I saw that the steepest part of the climb was ahead of me. At first, I could crossover step my way up. Eventually, I had to high dagger up the slope. Moraines gave me good spots to rest and calm my nerves. Once on top of the arm, I saw that path flattened out to a mild snow ramp up to the summit blocks, which was now obscured by waves of mist. When I reached the base of the summit, the mist subsided back into Luna Basin and the summit towers emerged again. Summit Block and Descent In my excitement to get to the summit, I immediately started climbing high. I then realized that I had to downclimb and scramble to the right in order to access the actual summit block. The climb up the summit block didn’t look too bad. I saw several pitons and a stuck cam. For me, the crux was at the second piton. I had to think through where to put my feet and hands, but I got over it in one move. At the summit, I could see Baker and thought about how I stood on that summit exactly a week ago. I wondered how difficult it would be to climb Shuksan, its summit pyramid now bare rock. Covered in mist, the Northern Pickets were all still a mystery to me. I took a few more minutes to take it all in. It wasn’t windy and I wasn’t too pressed for time. Since I didn’t feel like downclimbing and had a 30m rope, I rappelled down. There were two rappel stations, one at the summit block and another further down. Two aged cordelettes made up the first and several pieces of webbing made up the second. When I reached the top of the arm again, the mist disappeared from Pickets, and I could finally see the Northern Pickets in all its glory. The way back was largely uneventful–I just followed the same route back. Surprisingly, my bootpack across the glacier had already faded into a faint imprint. It was around 1 pm when I made it back to Perfect Pass. The snow had already started to slush around noon, so I was glad to be off the glacier. When I thought I had finally made it to camp however, I encountered two ptarmigan chicks and their mother guarding the last little hill to my tent. I tried to go around them at first, but apparently the mother felt I was a threat. She lunged at me and herded me down the hill with her mid-air flourishes. I waited a few minutes for her and her chicks to descend down Perfect Pass. When I finally got to camp, I ate some lunch and took a long, several hours rest under the shade of some wind-twisted trees. Imperfect Bypass After getting over Perfect Impass the day before, I vowed not to do such exposed climbing again. I felt I had already tempted my fate several times already, so I wanted to find a way to bypass the impasse lower down. This was a critical mistake. I ended up bushwhacking through dense clumps of trees (or rather they were actually whacking me). I lost my approach shoes and one of my crocs in the process. I was stopped by steep cliffs every time I whacked through. With daylight quickly fading, I gave myself an 8pm stop time. I made one last attempt to find a safe way down but was again blocked by steep cliffs. I was frustrated that I lost several hours wasting so much energy trying to find the bypass. In exhaustion, I decided to just confront Perfect Impass head-on. When I reached it, it was nearing 8 pm so I thought the safest way would be to tackle the impasse after a night’s rest. I was already tired and didn’t want to be stuck in the gully after sunset. Fortunately, near the rappel station, I found a flat rocky spot and quickly set-up camp, scarfed down some food, and went to sleep. Day 4 Perfect Impass The next morning, I woke up at 5 am and dragged myself to confront the last obstacle of the trip. At the edge of the chasm, I plotted my route. There seemed to be two options: traversing or climbing high. Both options didn’t look safe. Climbing high seemed safer, but I couldn’t see what the downclimb would be like. I figured I would climb high first and if the descent was too steep, I would downclimb and make the traverse instead. I rappelled down into the gully and climbed a little further down. All sizes of broken rock were strewn all around, which really demonstrated Perfect Impass’s description as a “rotten volcanic dike.” I saw a clear way up from the bottom of the gully. As I climbed, I had to break away loose rock to make extra sure that every hold was stable. The crux for me was a two move dihedral that I had to mantle out of. I sighed with relief when I saw that the descent from the high-route was relatively safe 4th class scrambling. (West side of Impass looking back) Exit It was a long slog in my mountaineering boots back up to and along Easy Ridge, down to the Chilliwack, and up and down again to the Hannegan trailhead. I ended up using up all daylight hours to make my way back. From Perfect Pass, I corrected yesterday’s mistake and descended on the heather ledges located on skier’s right. And instead of steeply ascending onto Easy Ridge, I decided to approach it from a low angle that eventually bisected the ridge. I still could not find any trail as I approached the Chilliwack after descending from Easy Ridge. I crossed the Chilliwack again, but this time only with one croc. Copper Creek Camp, Boundary Camp, Hannegan Pass–I noted each landmark as I passed them. I tried not to think about the distance and time. The wildflowers were a useful distraction but they also slowed me down as I stopped and admired each new variety. The four mile hike from Hannegan pass to the trailhead seemed to take forever. Right after the pass, my energy started flagging. I then unexpectedly met a group of hikers heading to Boundary Camp. One hiker’s sound recording device caught my eye, and we chatted for a bit about recording soundscapes, ambient music, and strategies for creativity. For some reason this encounter renewed my energy and I pressed on. The sun had already set when I was about a mile from the trailhead. The world shifted into a more mystical register. Having hiked this trail many times, I felt like I was walking back through the past. I thought about how each time I passed through here, I was a better hiker and climber than before. Each time, my objectives grew bolder and more challenging. I wondered when I would walk this path again. How would I grow as a climber next time? I arrived at my car around 10 pm. Driving back to Seattle, I saw fireworks were already being set-off the night before The Fourth. Cops were frantically speeding down rural highways. It seemed like I would be returning to civilization on a night of full-moon anarchy. Gear Notes: Mountaineering boots, ice axe, crampons, 30m double rope, crocs, approach shoes Approach Notes: don't underestimate the route-finding challenges you can descend and ascend Easy Ridge on a gentle angle when going up Perfect Pass, stay climbers left on the heather ledges a 30m rope is sufficient for rappelling from summit and into the Perfect Impass Challenger Glacier gets hit with sun right when it rises, so plan accordingly

Trip: Northern Pickets - Phantom Peak, Challenger 1/2/5, and "The Bat Wing" Date: 7/30/2015 Trip Report: Over the past year plus, Mario (a prolific Pickets schemer) had sold me on the idea of completing a North-South Pickets traverse this summer. We had attempted this traverse in 2008 but, after several days in a whiteout near Pickell Pass, with dwindling food, time, and spirits, we abandoned the route Southward and ended up going out to the East. I had taken the last four years off from Picketeering as a new father, but the idea of seeing Picket Pass firsthand was a big draw for me, a sideways summit of sorts. However, as this year's trip came closer, several facts became apparent. First, snow conditions were historically low, making the traverse route more dicey. Second, Mario was, as he puts it, "getting old" and was going to need to tap out of the trip due to a number of nagging injuries. This left Sandy, Matt, and me wondering about objectives. In 2009, when doing new routes in the Challenger group, i recall looking into the heart of the Northern Pickets and seeing the profile of Phantom, with its West Ridge dropping towards Picket Creek. In 2011 Keith, Mario and I made an attempt, but in classic Pickets fashion, the weather closed in and shut us down. This year seemed like a good opportunity to go take a closer look. There is no simple way into the Northern Pickets. As Select Climbs says, "the pilgrim pays a price." Perpetually hopeful for a break, we tried hiking from Hannegan to Whatcom Pass, and around Whatcom. While this approach is long, it is also scenic, relatively gentle, and has almost zero bushwhacking, and so less sucky for big packs on the way in. The initial hiking went smoothly. Sandy was Mr. Water, whipping out the Steripen (scary-pen?) at every stream to keep up sloshing happily along. The only setback was that Matt's shoulder strap attachment blew apart under the load, but Sandy came up with a nifty field repair that saved the day. Leaving the trail and the people behind, we moved towards the Whatcom glacier. The icefall this year is scary. With so little snow, the ice that is there seems more active than normal. We hustled across, and began scheming alternate return routes. I felt more anxious than i recall from previous Pickets forays. The ever-increasing remoteness and commitment as you head deeper in are always factors here, but with increasing age i also have a greater appreciation for my own mortality, and most importantly an extremely strong desire to be there for my little girl growing up. As we made camp on the rock benches on the Southeast side of Whatcom, i wondered what the heck i was doing there. Morning brought improved spirits. Briefly... until we watched a snowfield on Whatcom's South side spontaneously crumble into ice blocks ahead of us. Hmm, yeah, lets definitely hike up higher and get above all this crud. Studying the Challenger glacier brought more concerns. The standard low route from Perfect Pass was out, broken into a thousand shards. We'd need to figure something else out. Heading straight up the ridge above Perfect Pass towards Point 7696 until we could gain the glacier higher seemed like our best chance. We hadn't been that way before, but it turned out to go just fine. We passed debris and then the plaque from the 1980 Firewood One helicopter crash. After some fine alpine rambling, we reached a saddle with good glacier access. Although the upper glacier was more open than i have seen it before, Matt was able to pick a fine route and soon we were at Middle Challenger Col. Shenanigans ensued. The spot at the East edge of the col where we have rapped twice before was unreachable due to larger than normal moats. An alternate rap station on the West edge looked promising, but with the low snow year it didn't look like our single 60m rope would reach the glacier below. We threw it down to measure, it didn't reach, and so we decided to pull it up and instead try the route between Challenger 4 and 5. However, the rope got wedged trying to pull it up. I threw on rock shoes, rapped down, and cleared the rope. However, once down there it was clear we could easily set a second station and make the route go, and so we reverted back to plan A. The second rap involved some moat wrangling, but eventually, after much wasted time, we made it through. Feeling a bit short on daylight and energy to make it to the Phantom alp-slope camp, we decided to camp at a beautiful site below Crooked Thumb. In the morning we set out for Phantom. Interminable scree fields, and lots of going down in order to go up, made us happy to have day packs instead of our full kit. (photo by Sandy) As we approached, i kept looking up at Phantom's West Ridge and wondering/doubting if i had the mojo for an FA. I kept my mouth shut, in that chess game of climbing partners wondering which way the moods would align. Arriving at the saddle in the ridge, I got my answer. Matt said no way to the unclimbed ridge, which brought me 95% relief and 5% disappointment. Sandy then pulled out his crocs (which he had stealthfully brought from camp) and declared that he was going to spend the day soaking in the view from right there at the saddle. (photo by Matt) And so, Matt and I, with excitement, set off on the Southwest route on Phantom. The cleft between Phantom and Spectre is an awe-inspiring place. Spires jut up all around you. The Haunted Wall looms overhead. The sense of remoteness is massive. The first 1000' went rapidly up what little glacier remnant remains. (Throughout the range, many of the glaciers look withered. A few more dry/warm years and some will be gone. Geologic time is now!) Then we cached our boots and snow gear, and switched to rock shoes. Scrambling the next 1000' over surprisingly clean rock brought a great sense of flow. As i moved the last few feet to the crest, i realized we were at a false summit. The traverse to the true summit looked sketchy, so we took out the rope and rack and i led over lichen-crusted plates to the top. (photo by Matt) The position was amazing. I though of Wayne and Josh on their Northern Pickets traverse in 2005, and Jens and Chad in 2013 on their complete Pickets traverse, and wondered what they must have felt on this summit, with more spidering narrow crests yet to run. Matt came over, and we opened the summit register. The feeling was what i picture an archeologist feels opening a tomb in Egypt's Valley of the Kings. There was Fred and Helmy's first ascent entry from 1940, followed by a list of fellow Picketeers, only about two dozen recorded parties in all. In ten trips to the Pickets, this felt like my most wild summit yet. The descent demanded full concentration, and so when we reunited with Sandy at the saddle, we were happy but drained. Splashing in the meltwater streams at the Phantom alp-slope campsite was pure joy, but the hike back up and across the boulders was pure scree-vil. Exhaustion ensued. Followed by celebration. Followed by turning off the alarm for the next morning. While Spectre and Swiss had been on the maybe list heading in, at this point they were taken out of consideration. Our new plan was to go get some various Challenger summits. Matt hadn't been up main Challenger yet, and i wanted to tag some of the sub-summits. We packed up and headed up the new to us route around the back of West Challenger on ledges, which went smoothly. Then we continued over the Solar Glacier, to the Challenger 4-5 Col. There we made camp complete with lovely paved patios for both tents. Let me tell you, these boys can dig and landscape! That afternoon consisted of a favorite type mountain climbing: finding objectives within spitting distance of camp, that can be tackled with minimal packs and late starts. Target one was Challenger 5 (aka Point 7696). The three of us moseyed West, and then did one steep snow pitch. After that, a short enjoyable rock scramble took us to the summit. I love sharing sunny afternoons in the mountains with great friends like these. After returning to home base, we then set out on objective two for the afternoon: the rather insignificant but attractive ridge just West of the 4-5 Col. I suppose you could call it Challenger 4.33, but we called it The Bat Wing. Matt and i ran the wing-like ridge line, and then a pitch beyond that isn't visible in this photo, to the highpoint. A probable first ascent of something no one cares about. But damn was it fun. That night i expected to sleep soundly but neither Sandy nor I got much rest. At alarm-o'clock Matt and I hopped up, but Sandy pulled the sleeping bag over his head and said something to the effect of "madgamgmmmmamdfgamgdagdmm". Matt and I headed towards main Challenger, bearing high on the glacier all the way to its East edge. From there, the standard path between crevasses led towards the steep final slope and the summit ridge. Matt grabbed the rack and led the money pitch. I love that summit! We soaked in the views, including an impressive mushroom cloud of smoke coming from the Wolverine fire. After backing down the upper snow slopes, we headed for Challenger 2. (photo by Matt) Some easy snow and moat climbing, followed by a rock scramble, brought us to that summit, for me the last one of the five that i hadn't been up. All Five Challengers achievement unlocked! We cruised back to camp, broke it down, and headed down to Perfect Pass. As usual, it was, well, pretty perfect. We choose to descent via Easy Ridge (a cruel name if you ask me). I've been up that way a few times, but going "down" (which has a lot of up) seemed like nearly as much work. The abundant blueberries sweetened the work considerably. After a final night beside the Chilliwack, we hiked back to the trailhead. While we had waited out a couple of days of bad weather in Seattle before starting the trip, we had enjoyed eight days of near perfect weather in the mountains. I'm not sure how many big Pickets trips i have left in me. But, maybe some day i'll get to take my daughter to see Challenger ... now that would be a thrill. Sandy and Matt, thanks for being such great partners!