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Trip: Ingalls Peak - East Ridge Trip Date: 04/13/2025 Trip Report: Ingalls Peak: East Ridge. 04/13/2025 Gear Notes: 2 technical tools each 70 m rope Cams 0.2 – 3 with doubles 0.3-0.4 Hexes. Work well in icy cracks Nuts 6 60 cm slings, 2 120 cm slings 2 240 cm cordelettes for protection on horns Approach Notes: Skis or snowshoes

Trip: Ingalls Peak - South Ridge Trip Date: 04/21/2025 Trip Report: Been getting out a good amount but mostly ski-mountaineering. Since this was a more climbing-y thing, I figured I’d post it on here. With Monday off, I wanted to get one more trip out of the Spring break by giving an early season attempt on Ingalls. Mid-day Sunday, Asher and I drove out to Esmeralda and got the car a little past Beverly Campground. We began walking at 16:00 and set up camp at around 6000’ at 20:00 a little below Ingalls pass. I had my splitboard, Asher had snowshoes. My lighter ended up freezing so we had cold soaked oatmeal and fresh carrots for dinner. The next morning we got moving around 06:30 and were at the base of the South Ridge of Ingalls at around 08:30. There was more snow than expected overnight so but I figured I’d at least give it a shot. We started by booting up an entrance couloir. The top of it contained a dusting of snow above a slab, but a short little boulder move brought us onto a sub ridge. From here we butt-scooted a little bit until we reached the rock. A short little step brought us to the belay. Here I roped up and started up the route in ski boots. The rock was very icy with lots of snow in the cracks, but with big cracks, it was still reasonably comfortable with ski boots. I found the passive pro super useful with the icy cracks. Honestly I should've brought way more nuts. Eventually I got about 30 meters up and found myself stuck. I stuck my Gully in a crack, tied in direct, and switched from ski boots to climbing while backed up by a hex. I was feeling pretty patagonian by now… on a 5.4. I looked around but decided to try and follow a crack system on the left. Asher lowered me off the hex and belayed me as I traversed across closer to the ridgeline. Here looked more promising so I continued climbing up. Higher up the crack, I was nearly postholing in climbing shoes. Near about 40 meters, at the top of P.2, I reached a band of snow and Ice. I couldn't continue up and eventually placed in a bomber nut and lowered off after bounce testing it while backed up. Halfway down I pulled the rope again and got lowered off of a nice slung horn. I think it could’ve been possible by drytooling but I wasn’t quite desperate enough to scratch up such a popular route(also I’m definitely not that confident of a drytooler). I’ll hopefully be back this summer anyways to link up the ridgeline between Ingalls and Sherpa. Anyways, once I arrived back at the belay, we found an older rap anchor to make a final rap to the approach gully. I got some consolation turns as Asher suffered on snow shoes. We got back to camp and kept going down. We ended up back at the car by 16:00, just 24 hours after leaving. While we didn’t get the summit, it was still a great time getting out and I learned a few things about winter climbing. The truth is we just had a lot more snow and ice than expected, and climbing an icy slab without drytooling is next to impossible. Better than sitting around in the city. Next person up the South Ridge gets a little booty! Always good to learn to bail. https://lucasfng.blogspot.com/2025/04/ingalls-peak-attempt-420-4212025.html Gear Notes: Should've brought more hexes and Nuts for the wintery conditions. Anchors not visible Approach Notes: 2 hrs to walk/skin the road

Trip: Davis Peak - South Route - Skiers Variation Trip Date: 04/23/2025 Trip Report: After reading this recent TR on a skiable route to Davis Peak in the NCNP we had to give it a try. My buddies and I had attempted Davis in January of '22 so we knew what we were getting into with the approach, but a skiable route to the summit that avoided the difficult scramble near the summit sounded awesome, plus it's always great to do a 3000' bushwhack with skis on your back. So the next time we were too sick to work but not too sick to go skiing we hit it up, Wed the 23rd. The bushwhack is bad, but not terrible, there is little undergrowth, just deadfall so it's mostly just navigating. Above 2600' it gets much better. The track Ryan Stoddard and Nick Roy posted is pretty much perfect, when we deviated from it by more than 30’ we regretted it. We hiked to the start of a boulderfield at 4200’ before we could start skinning, which was a bit farther than optimal, but not much, the 4000'-4200’ traverse below cliffs was postholing intermittently, so not ideal. Above 4200’ we cruised on firm snow, making great time skinning. The route up is straight forward hooking around to the west and up to the summit. We didn’t spend long on the summit as the snow was calling, naturally the skiing was over WAAAY too fast and we had to swap out for shoes and walk down, down, down. 12 hours after we started we were back at the car for a hot beer (not used to this spring thing yet). It was a nice route, rugged for sure, but an amazing peak in a spectacular position with views from an interesting angle into the Snowfield group and the southern pickets. Everyone should go do this! Ryan has a GPX on NWHikers No snow in sight, lets get it! Dylan and the Pickets. Gear Notes: Ski gear. Carried avy, axe, crampons. Dark clothes, the forest is sooty, I found work gloves to be nice for the deadfall and burned forest. Approach Notes: Park at the Gorge Creek overlook, at the east bridge abutment there is a trail up, go up.

Hey @Joshwl.....Sounds like you should hire some guides and not put that sort of responsibility on partners to bring a minor home alive to his parents. I worry that anyone under 25 won't properly understand the gravity of having someone's son in their care on a route like Liberty Ridge. As the parent of 15 and 17 year old boys, I would ground my kids if they were trying to do something like this with your level of experience- mostly because I've climbed Liberty Ridge! While you may pull it off and be the "youngest" to climb the route, it won't result in much attention and really isn't something that will change the the trajectory of your life for the better. Sorry to be the wet blanket old guy, but I do believe it is the truth. Glad that you are so psyched on the mountains though! It is a grand hobby that can enrich your life for decades....

Trying to do some bike -> climb this summer since taking a car all the time proved problematic with my family last year. Also saves on gas and I got the time. Definitely want to get out to cascade river road since it was closed last summer. Maybe a northern pickets traverse and the ptarmigan??? I just want to get out for longer overnighters really. Bike's mostly ready by now after a little sewing. Just need some new tires - lmk if you got any 27.5" tubeless compatible gravel/road tires you're tryna sell

Other than something @JasonG and I are gonna do I’m just planning on repeating some classic scrambles/ridge hikes in the cascades and Olympics. Probably do some bike packing if I can get to it, and canoe the Bowron in October and hunting in AK in November.

It's not looking like the images properly attached. I've re-uploaded them here.

Anyone got any trips or goals for the summer season? Let's share and get stoked! I'm going to spend a week 2nd half of June with a good partner. We're going to see what the weather does before we pick a location... Rogers Pass, Canadian Rockies, Tetons, Cascades are all on the radar. Then hoping to either go to the Sierra or Darrington for some (very different) granite climbing later in the summer. Hopefully a couple family trips with at least some scrambling, kid TRing, and hiking too.

I spent a couple of weeks in Norway and I loved it. Their hut system is fantastic. All you literally need to bring is a sleeping clothes if you want. It is worth becoming an annual member to their hiking society so you can get a universal key that will unlock all of the public backcountry huts in the country.

I got a scholarship so I'm actually going to be headed to Norway for a few weeks to take a course in Norwegian. Past that, I'll be back home working and hoping to get in a lot of harder (for me) dry tooling in this summer.

I didn't end up having the budget for my plans in Alaska this year, so I'll be spending more time in the PNW and Canada. I'll be in the PNW starting mid-May hoping to climb whatever subset of Curtis/Ptarmigan/Liberty ridge I could fit in/would be in acceptable condition, and then will spend early August in Squamish before heading to the Canadian rockies and hopefully climb the Kain face on Robson.

Trip: Dragontail Peak - Triple Couloirs - May 4, 2025 - Triple Couloirs Trip Date: 05/04/2025 Trip Report: This is more of a conditions report rather than a trip report, but I just wanted to post as I had not seen any reports since mid April, and was curious if the route would still be in when I was planning for this climb. I climbed the triple couloirs C2C on May 4, 2025. Approach on eightmile road is snow-free to Stuart Lake Trailhead. There are a few small patches of snow after Stuart Lake Trailhead (luring me and my partner into ditching our trail runners too soon), but then ~1.5 miles of mostly clear trail before hitting continuous snow. Snow on the rest of the approach is slightly punchy, but not terrible. Lake is not frozen enough to support weight. Snow in all three couloirs is in very firm and secure conditions. Pitch 1 of the runnels is presently easy ice, although not thick enough for 10cm screws. Pitch 2 has some easier ice in the bottom and top sections, but the middle section was delaminated snow/snice for which the only good protection felt like pins, and the slabby granite didn't feel super confidence inspiring. I found this section to feel quite insecure with difficult gear placements (I am not leading much more than ~WI4 M4 on gear in cragging contexts -- if you're well above this level, I'm sure this mixed section would feel reasonable), so I would consider the bypass if you're not a stronger mixed climber than I am. There was a thin layer of ice in the chimney of the 3rd pitch of the runnels which was extremely well-bonded to the rock and provided secure climbing. There were good anchors in the runnels exactly where you want them pitching it out with a 60m rope. The final mixed pitch between the second and third couloirs had relatively poor ice conditions (we made the mistake of traversing slightly too high), and I was happy to have a rope for this section. Descent was straightforward, but Asgard Pass was fairly icy, requiring care and a small amount of face-in down climbing in particularly icy sections. Pictures of the first and second pitches (for reference on the angle of the second pitch, the climbing was near-vertical after the fixed piece visible) of the runnels are attached, as well as a larger picture of the route. IMG_6037.HEIC IMG_6041.HEIC IMG_3622.HEIC Gear Notes: Recommended rack in current conditions: 2-3 angles, 2 knife blades, standard rack of nuts, few cams .4-2, 1-2 10cm screws, 2 pickets. Approach Notes: Approach described above in the text.

I found a mentor! im headed up the baker north ridge soon and then I will resconsider LR depending on how much I progress. Im so happy I got into this at my age.

Today’s lesson: a backup lighter doesn’t weigh much. 👍

It’s awful tough to do anything novel these days. And the old people who scoff at you know someone who did it up hills both ways, back before the invention of the wheel (which makes everything so easy for the kids these days). So you’re left with being the first 12 year old up Willis Wall. Best of luck though! But the best climber is the one having the most fun, right? So try to be that climber maybe, I guess.

More evidence that boomers ruin everything for the youngsters. How's this kid supposed to be the youngest to climb anything now?

Things happened before the internet?!

My good friend and climbing partner for 50 years climbed LR at the age of 14.

[Edit:corrected a few spelling mistakes] Hey that gear is neat. I have made a climbing sac that a I no adding a [edit:mesh padded back] panel to . I was not happy with the back panel, adding mesh covering and a plastic reinforcement to keep the padding shape definition. I also reworked the hip belt.

Here is the plan. Just scrambling. Stein Valley Traverse Stefan Feller - CalTopo

Chimney is the only Smoot I have left. I'm stoked for it!

I snuck in and bagged Pitcher Mountain the day before they closed the bridge. What luck, eh?

Stein Valley, BC backpacking....and scrambling.....welll...approaching from Lilloett lake.

So you're sending the Troll Wall on a weekend right?

Holy crap dude, congrats! That is cool I want to learn Norwegian in Norway! Where do I apply? im seriously curious, though I’m past doing anything like that. What a cool opportunity for you though!

Deer in SE! My brother lives in Wrangell.

@Michael Telstad RE anchor ripping, are you talking about this TR?

There are lots of fun adventures to be had by choosing a class 2, 3 or 4 route in a Beckey Guide. Keep an eye out for the 'obvious gully' and prepared to be humbled. Thanks Fred!!!

It totally depends on conditions. In my mind it was totally chill, but last year when I took my son and friend there was 30+ degree bare glacial ice and we only had lightweight shoes and micro-spikes. We had axes, but I didn't feel there was enough margin of error in the event of a slip, so we pulled the plug. If it had been 30 degree snow with bootprints we would have been fine.

Trip: Colfax Peak - The Polish Route Trip Date: 02/09/2025 Trip Report: "ILLUSION OF CHOICE" Kulshan and it's trusty sentinel. I stared at the line, tracing every section, noting unique features on the ice, taking inventory of everything I would need to pull through. The obsession was predictable. The route pulled me in singing a siren song of steep ice, promising views, and unbelievable positioning. It overtook me in a way I couldn’t quite articulate, in the way that only something brutally difficult and just within reach can do. I always want what I can’t have. I had been to the base of the climb two weeks prior and watched another party live out my dream. The climb was right there in front of me, but I was unable to interact with it. I lived the following weeks in its shadow, playing through the moves in my head instead of sleeping, going through my gear in the evenings like some sacred ritual. I had studied everything there was to study, I knew all there was to know about it - Nothing remained, except commitment. The alarm ruptures the stillness, a violence in the dark. I fumble for the headlamp, hands still clumsy with sleep. The air inside the truck is sharp and crystals glisten on my sleeping bag from the condensation. I briefly question the sanity of crawling out of the bag. I force down half a frozen donut with a caffeine pill, choke back some icy water, and tighten by boots with fingers that are already stiff. The first steps are always slow, heavy with doubt, the mind still tangled in the warmth left behind. The woods engulf me and Murray, our torch beams carve tunnels through the void, giving us a path to follow. Deadfall crunches beneath our feet and the glacier waits patiently. The woods release us and we weave through crevasses and serac debris. The stars burn above, unfeeling to the smallness of our effort. Pitches 1-2. Credit: Murray P. The first pitch was a wake-up call. Brittle and unapologetic; it kicked back harder than I expected, forcing me to fight to get purchase in the alpine ice. I didn’t believe the stories from the people that had climbed this before, about how variable the ice is up here. ‘How hard can vertical ice be?’ I naively thought. It was brutally violent to get a good stick and even harder to get decent screws. I lost count after five hollow screws and starting clipping them anyways. Part of me didn’t want to give Murray the impression I was struggling up here and the other part of me felt that if I fell, I deserved the bergschrund. It’s the flavor of climbing that demands you stay calm even when you feel the weight of the runout beneath your spikes. I was relieved when the rope came taught, signalling i could stop climbing and build an anchor. Share the burden, share the psych, and get a much-needed mental break from leading. Pitches 3-4. The Crux. Connected...still hard. A couple pitches later, the upper pillar arrived like a slow, inevitable tide. It was always there but now it was within reach. I could feel its gravity as I racked up. The lower ice appeared fat, but revealed itself as unreliable. I'd strike it and watch the fractures spiderweb outward, the sound hollow and unconvincing. Squeak, squeak, squeak, when I pried them out to retry for another swing. No easy way through. My calves were screaming, my forearms red hot. I knew I had to continue, I wasn’t even at the difficult part, yet my body was begging me for respite. I charged and got a stance below the crux, much needed rest...finally. The curtain hung over me like a guillotine, reminding me of the seriousness. Crux looming. Pitch Four. No hands rest. Our Skis visible on the glacier. I tossed aside any remaining fear, threw up the horns at Murray, and quested up the wild three-dimensional ice. After a couple body lengths, the familiar fire crept back into my arms. I wanted to climb it clean, I wanted to send, but the ice didn’t care. Pride is a useless currency up here, so I swallowed it whole, and clipped a tool. I hung there, weighting it just enough to drill a screw, and try to get the lava in my forearms to subside. My arms burned, but the pit in my stomach felt worse. I came here to climb, not to dangle like a tourist. But I wasn’t quitting, I wasn’t wasting this chance. I kept moving. I tried to keep my breathing steady, not letting the tension in my mind translate to my body. But the moment came—a simple shake out on a matched tool, something I had done hundreds of times before. In an instant I was airborne, cursing before the rope broke my fall. I slammed into the curtain, my right hip taking the brunt of it. I hung there for what felt like an eternity, choking down the frustration and stunned at how careless I was being. A fall on ice is a cardinal sin, and to do it in the alpine – unforgivable. I was disgusted with myself for not being stronger, not working harder in the months leading up to this, for tainting our send with a fall and clipped tools. I was ashamed but also guilty; I had taken the lead from Murray and made a mess of it. No time to cry…the sun was getting lower with every excuse I uttered aloud and to myself in my head. I pulled the rope back in and reset my feet. Swing. Placement. Breathe. Swing again. My tools vibrated in the curtain after every solid stick. I fought for every inch on the pitch and eventually when the angle eased, I was treated to some glorious neve. I only had two screws left so I pushed to an ice blob where I could bring Murray up. I could feel my heart pounding in my fingertips. I wanted to let out some kind of battle cry, but I knew better. This was just a small win, if you could even call it that. The route continued upward, unaware of my private hell. Hero swings above the crux. Credit: Murray P. We finished out the last 2 ice steps, quickly, but in the dark now. We coiled the rope and made a break for the ridge line, treading carefully in the unprotectable steep snow. We both stared at the summit. It’s only a short hike up and back, but I knew we weren’t going there—we couldn’t. It was dark, It was cold, and we needed to get off this thing as soon as possible. We traversed right past it and continued towards the planned descent. The cold sun had left us and the mountain reminded us who was really in control. Hands freezing, toes numb, and blanketed in the fresh moonlight, we hastily dropped back towards our skis. Our ticket home. Dusk on Lincoln Peak. Credit: Murray P. The silence at the base was heavy, the kind that only manifests after pushing yourself past the limit. This had been everything I wanted. This climb had consumed me, occupied my thoughts for weeks, dictated my training, my sleep, my diet. And now it was done. I should have felt something. Pride, satisfaction, maybe even relief. Instead, there was nothing. A quiet, empty space took hold where something should have been. And maybe that was worse. Because if this wasn’t it—if this didn’t fill that void—then what would? Maybe if I had climbed it in better style, or made better time, or hadn’t screwed it all up with a fall, it would’ve been enough. I’ll never know that answer. I clicked into my skis and took one last look at Colfax. The frozen waterfall was dancing in the moonlight, but it was already fading away. With every second, the climb became more memory than experience, a tale that gets told rather than an idea living inside me. The melancholy quickly retreated after the first few powder turns and didn’t return until I got a ski stuck in a creek bed a couple miles later. Gear Notes: 14 screws, 12 draws, 1 picket, Rack o Nutz. Approach Notes: Drove to the last pullout before the Heliotrope Ridge Trailhead, bathroom still not blocked in. Booted a mile or so on the summer trail then transitioned to skis and continued on the CD route until reaching Colfax. To descend, we traversed eastward along the North flank of Colfax, eventually reaching the Kulshan-Colfax col and could drop back down to the glacier.

FYI that is not my video. that was another party about a month after us. I did produce a video of my experience but it was created without the use of aerial photography and it's under my name. Furthermore, I've just about had it with the federal government prescribing what is allowed in terms of personal recreating. The blanket rules rarely apply in the alpine and are even harder to enforce. If me and my partner are the only animals up on an alpine face in the dead of winter, a drone has little effect on the ecosystem and the rule is moot. It mainly exists so that colchuck lake isn't turned into a seattleite swarm drone demonstration every saturday, so i get why it's a thing. There's also legality loopholes for footage like "taken off from, landed in, and operated from outside the Wilderness area" for footage produced like that parties. I suspect that most tickets are from being caught flying the drone in person. It was hardly persecutable before the layoffs, and now i don't think they have the resources to enforce it period. I used to agree with the "setting a bad example for others" reasoning for things like this, but now i just don't care. if you fly a drone in the wilderness, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

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

Happy you guys made it down in one piece. That was quite the epic. Good to see the old guys giving you some solid advice here and I hope you take it and maybe throttle down the objectives to more moderate terrain until you have a good base of knowledge and experience in the mountains. As an old guy, I remember Marc Andre on here many years ago doing moderate objectives around Vancouver, posting TR's and being completely stoked to get advice. You should try it. The harder stuff will come with time, or you'll run out of time with horrible results. I've been on here long enough to see too many people get in over their heads and never come back. Don't let that be you. Climbing those kind of routes in winter adds another level of complexity. Try some longer summer alpine routes to get "The Dance" worked out. And a space blanket lives in every one of my packs without leaving. Even better, a lightweight bivy bag or tarp. Canadian Rockies guides don't climb without one. Found that out the hard way after our own epic up there, and I was seasoned even back then! Cheers and good luck!

Trip: Mount Shuksan - Price Glacier and Nooksack Tower (attempt) Trip Date: 05/29/2023 Trip Report: Trip Dates: May 27 (Saturday) - May 29 (Monday), 2023 (3 days/ 2 nights total) Climbers: Jeff and Priti Wright Climb: Price Glacier (50 Classic) on Mount Suksan's North Face (successful) + Nooksack Tower (unsuccessful) along the way This report contains conditions on two routes: one is currently a sandbag and one is currently a featherbag...that way everybody has something to comment about! Descent Options: Fisher Chimneys, but there is snow on the trail all the way up Lake Ann according to the rangers on May 27. Rangers recommended floatation on the trail. White Salmon Glacier (skis), but you have a heinous bushwhack on the way out per this TR (link) "Once at the bottom of the glacier, we initiated the most miserable slide alder/thorny bush battle of my life. I was in a tee shirt, and was absolutely brutalized trying to fight through the vegetation with skis on packs." Sulphide Glacier (this requires a long car shuttle) but probably the easiest/fastest way off the mountain. Lots of traffic on Sulphide, no evidence of folks coming up White Salmon or Fisher Chimneys Memorial Day weekend. The snow on the Lake Ann Trail is perhaps scaring people away from Fisher Chimneys. Hanging Glacier Route No matter what you chose, make sure to have GPX tracks of all descent routes downloaded to your phone. You can find GPX tracks at caltopo.com or peakbagger.com. Logistics: Cache a bike or car at White Salmon Base (White Salmon Glacier or Hanging Glacier descent) or Bagley Lakes TH (Fisher Chimneys descent). We locked a single bike to a signpost behind a guardrail (very discreetly) near the White Salmon Base Area. It's a short/fun bike ride downhill and on the dirt road back to Nooksack Cirque Trailhead to your car. Note: White Salmon Base parking lot is closed for construction and no parking is allowed there. Therefore, I'd probably recommend Fisher Chimneys descent with a bike cache at Bagley Lakes parking lot. The road to Artist Point is partially open, so you can cache a bike higher up the road, maybe. You can also hitchhike down Mt Baker Highway then walk the extra 2.2 miles from the NF-32 turnoff to the Nooksack Cirque Trailhead. Park at Nooksack Cirque Trailhead and start from here. To get here, take NF-32 off of Mount Baker Highway, then branch off right onto NF-34 to the end of the road. NF-32 and NF-34 are dry, dirt roads in good condition currently. Plan for extra days out. The Price Glacier route can be trivial or it can be really complex and time consuming. Sandbag: In its current condition, there was no really technical terrain on Price Glacier (this will change day-to-day!). Just easy snow walking all the way up....much easier than the North Ridge of Baker. The bergshrund has a trivial crossing up the middle that might last a few more weeks. If it's out, however, then you're in for some mixed climbing out of the moat on the left or right side of the shrund. Featherbag: Nooksack Tower has a lot of rockfall, the worst rock quality I've ever experienced (even after the Southern Pickets Traverse!), VERY sparse protection, lots of required downclimbing, and difficult routefinding. Basically, YGD, and I don't recommend this peak at all to anyone, probably ever. I know it's a Cascade classic, but I was so shut down on it and also so unimpressed. It's just terrible...and too dangerous imo. All you successful Nutsackateers are free to comment about how trivial it is and how I need to harden up. Approach We got to the Ranger's office in Glacier at a leisurely 9:30 (they open at 8:00) but recommend you get there as soon as they open because stashing the shuttle/bike takes time. You might also want to consider getting your permit a day early, then sleeping at the trailhead to get an alpine start. Then we discreetly locked up a bike off the road near the White Salmon Base area and drove to the Nooksack Cirque TH. At the trailhead, head straight to the river and slightly downstream to reach an improved log crossing to start the Nooksack Cirque Trail. The trail has a few downed trees, but is generally in good shape. First improved log Crossing just at Trailhead Second improved log crossing along the trail...Priti doing her sexiest logwalk pose After reading this legendary trip report (link) from Pellucidwombat about their 9/2/22 Labor Day Weekend climb, we came prepared to encounter anything. This report is definitely worth a read. Mad props to those two for getting it done in those difficult conditions. I really feel like earlier in the season, the better for this climb. The original log crossing across the North Fork Nooksack River (now gone) has been there for years and years and provided access leaving the Nooksack Cirque Trail into the Price Lake valley. Pellucidwombat describes how they found a new crossing and provided us with the GPX point. Their new crossing is also gone (not underwater, but actually swept away). The best place to ford the river that we could find is at the original log crossing location (N 48.87097° W 121.61267°). We went up and down the river for hours to look for a new crossing. This location spot is the least sketchy spot to cross. A few parties have done it unroped this season (with skis!), however I thought it was sketchy and high enough to cross on belay then set up a tyrolean for the packs. Our tyrolean steps: Set up one end of the 60m rope to the tree as a retrievable bowline (equivocation hitch could also work, but this thing give me the heebie-jeebies, and it might be harder to release after a tensioned tyrolean). Practice this at home first! Tie-off of the bowline tail as as a Backup/Failsafe. Cross the river on belay with a bight of rope attached to your harness. Note: bring a bight across, not just the other end. Keep both ends of the rope at the start. Once across, make an anchor around a tree (2x 120cm runners work), then bring the anchored end of the rope tight and tension it with a simple Z-pulley (I used two micro traxions since they release easily). The taut, Tyrolean line goes from the Bowline to the Z-pulley. If you happen to have a GriGri, it is much safer to use the GriGri as a progress capture pulley than the micro traxion (link). Technically, Petzl says YGD if you use a micro traxion as a progress capture pulley for a tyrolean (link). Of course, a regular/passive pulley (such as a locked-open micro traxion) with an old-school progress capture hitch (Bachmann, prusik, Valdotain, etc) also works well and is safer. The free end of the rope going back to the start gets pulled in and attach a backpack to a figure-8 on a bight. Clip the pack onto the tensioned line and pull the pack across with the slack line. With a 60m rope, the person at the start should hang on to the free end of the rope to pull the carabiner back across. Therefore, you have a tensioned line and a slack line (tether). Re-tension the Z-pulley between each crossing. Once both packs are across, follower confirms that the Removable Bowline is set up, removes the Backup, then Tyroleans across the tensioned line (nothing fancy, just hand over hand with a locker on their belay loop) Release the tension on the Z-pulley. The Bowline (or EQ Hitch) won't release while the line is tensioned. To release the micro traxion (or GriGri or progress capture hitch), you'll need to tighten the Z-pulley slightly in order to open the toothed cam (practice this if you don't know what I'm talking about). Pull the pull side of the rope to release the Bowline (or EQ hitch). Note: this may be a *vigorous* pull! If you've set up an EQ Hitch, practice ahead of time what it feels like to pull on each line alternating between each bight release. Releasable Bowline (pictured) from 'Down' by Andy Kirkpatrick: the most effective ghosting technique, due to the fact most climbers know how to tie a Bowline, it’s safe if carried out correctly, and it works. In this set-up, a 120 cm sling is being used. You can use a longer sling (240 cm) or cord, but 120 cm is the minimum length. Anything shorter and the Bowline will probably not fully release. Also note that the tail of the Bowline must be long enough to tie an effective and secure the Bowline (30 cm long), but not so long that the tail does not fully clear the Bowlines when the RELEASE rope is pulled. There is flagging at either end of this river crossing location. From here, follow frequent flagging up the slope through mild bushwacking and bootpack trail until it opens up and you get your first glimpse of Price Lake. If you lose the flagging, retrace your steps and try to get back on course (GPX tracks are helpful). This section of the approach would be much harder without the flagging, so please try to preserve it. This section from the North Fork Nooksack River up the slopes to the Price Glacier moraine is fairly trivial, but it is STEEP! Once the slope opens up, you first traverse across talus and boulders to eventually gain a lateral moraine. Follow the moraine bootpack trail (green line pictured below) until you are under a cliff band. Immediately gain the cliff by the first gully (red line pictured below), then follow the undulating ridge (many bivy sites here) until you are forced to go down onto the open snow slopes. We bivied on top of this ridgeline the first night, but a strong party can easily make it to the Nooksack bivy which is recommended so that you get on Price Glacier early the next day. Priti and I originally planned to spend one day on approach, one day on route (Price Glacier only), then fly off the summit the morning of the third day. There was a team of 2 who were one day ahead of us (Eli Philips @eeelip and Ian Mock @cascade.ian) who impressively planned to do Price Glacier with skis on their backs and also tag Nooksack Tower along the way. When we got to the Nooksack bivy, and saw their tracks going up the Nooksack Tower approach gully (and after watching them effortlessly float up the Price Glacier in just a few hours), we couldn't let these guys 1-up us! So, we changed the plans and spent all of our second day questing up Nooksack Tower with just the pictures of the pages from Selected Climbs. The route line in the book is a little deceiving since it goes straight up the "central couloir" which looks to have overhanging terrain, and not the 4th-and-low-5th class terrain advertised. If we had done some research ahead of time, these two trip reports would have been handy from 2013 Jason G (link) and 2014 Dave Shultz (link). Eli and Ian (as we found out later) also didn't have enough beta, starting too low in the approach gully and bailing after getting spooked on runout terrain. I think we started at the right spot which is to go as high in the approach gully as possible then start up the right side at some TAT (don't get suckered up the chimney directly up the middle). The route has 3 distinct sections: low angle ramp/slabs (red line below), low angle couloir (orange line below), then a sharp traverse out left to more low-angle ground to the summit (green line below: the presumed route which we did not explore, so do not trust this green-line-overlay!). The start of the route has a few body lengths of wet, low-5th ledges with good gear in a corner which soon eases to low 4th class and little protection. Pass a large rappel anchor at the top of the slope where the angle steepens, then make a short traverse out right under the steepening wall and turn the corner to continue up and left into a wide gully (orange). Continue up this gully which gradually steepens to gain the ridgeline and a prominent notch where you get amazing views of Price Glacier. Side Note: A neat option for future parties might be to bring all your kit up to this ridgeline (top of orange line), cache your packs, summit Nooksack, retrieve your packs, then make two 30m rappels down the other side of the ridge to the top of Price Glacier which would bypass much of the heinous descent and shorten your total trip. The only downside is that you'll bypass the fun lower 2/3 of the Price Glacier route. From the ridge, we accidentally continued out right onto the West Face (yellow line). The route got difficult, loose, with bad protection (spooky!), so we tucked our tails and bailed. A key bit of beta from JasonG's TR would have helped us tremendously: "For aspiring Nooksack Tower ascensionists ... traverse hard left [at the ridgeline] across 3 or so ribs as soon as feasible once you've climbed up and right from the snow gully. Then, basically traverse left until you get to 3rd/4th class gully that will take you to the summit. This is key, don't be pulled up and right by the numerous rap stations-these led to the North face . Alpine Select gives this variation a 5.7/.8 rating and it felt quite spicy in boots." Note: I presume this North Face route continues straight up from the orange line. Photo above is taken from pelluciwombat 9/2/22 TR and not representative of current conditions. Nooksack Tower Descent: Selected Climbs warns that the descent off Nooksack Tower takes longer than the ascent, which is true! We only had one 60m rope so we made a couple short rappels with a lot of belayed downclimbing between stations. Two ropes would definitely had been nice! Be prepared to freshen up lots of anchors with new tat and maybe some leaver nuts since a lot of the anchors are snafflehound-tattered stuff from JasonG's 2013 ascent. Priti nearing the prominent notch at the ridgeline. We went right (West Face). North Face is pictured in the center (possibly). Likely, the Beckey route is way left around the other side of the skyline ridge. We bivied our second night after our 12hr attempt on Nooksack Tower at the Nooksack Bivouac (the prominent saddle under Nooksack Tower). Right now it is flat and snow-covered for several tents comfortably. Note that late in the season (according to pellucidwombat), this saddle is just a knife-edge snow ridge and not conducive as a bivy site. There is another nice bivy site on flat snow on an obvious rocky outcropping on route just after traversing out from the Nooksack Bivy. With fresh steps to follow, the Price Glacier itself was a non-event, taking 3-4 hours to ascend the face. Pure Type 1 Fun! We may be the first people in history to have steps kicked and the proper route found for them on Price Glacier! Luxury. No gear was placed, no crevasses were fallen into, and we got the muscular endurance workout we were hoping for. We each carried one picket and the follower carried one screw in case of a crevasse fall. The bergshrund crossing was easy, located in the middle (pictured below). I would almost feel comfortable solo'ing the Price Glacier in its current conditions (from a technical standpoint) except for the fact that it is still a glacier with several potentially dangerous crevasses, so a rope and glacier travel gear is still recommended at the very least. Above picture: Priti crossing the bergshrund in trivial conditions. This is traditionally the crux of the route. If there is no way to cross it directly, then mixed ground must be taken across the moat on the right or (more commonly) left side. Once on top of the face, it is necessary to make a wide circumnavigation to join the procession of Sulphide climbers. Instead of the wide circumnavigation, we followed Ian and Eli's clever shortcut, traversing high under the summit pyramid, then ascending to a notch in the South Ridge then descending slightly to join the main route to the summit. The summit pyramid is in easy conditions now, with snow most of the way to the top, with just a short section of 4th class rock (a few body lengths), reaching the summit at noon after starting out at 6:00AM. The descent went smoothly, then Priti grabbed her stashed bike and picked up the car, for a multi-sport weekend! Thanks North Cascades! Gear Notes: Single rack to #1 (used on Nooksack, didn't place any rock gear on Price...still a good idea to bring some rock gear for Price just in case, small cams are nice on Nooksack) 2 pickets for glacier travel (one on each person at all times, more pickets if you're not comfortable soloing "steep" snow) 1 knifeblade (didn't use) 10 ice screws (didn't place any, good to bring maybe 4-5 at all times) 12 runners (used a few to make anchors on Nooksack Tower, bring LOTS of anchor material and nuts if you plan to climb Nooksack) small rack of nuts (great anchor gear on Nooksack Tower) V-threader Rappel device for Fisher Chimneys rappels (good to have for emergency anyway) we did not bring rock shoes but I might have liked them on Nooksack (although traditionally it's been climbed in boots, but I'm not hard enough) crevasse rescue kit single hiking pole each (very nice for all the snow walking) 2 alpine ice tools each (Petzl Gully would be perfect) tent was very nice to have on exposed bivy spots (as opposed to open bivy or tarp) Floatation (snowshoes? ugh) *might* be nice for Lake Ann Trail, but I think skis are maybe a bit contrived for these current conditions considering how much bushwacking you do on approach and descent. We didn't bring any floatation and were very glad we didn't. 1x 60m rope (a pull cord or half/twin ropes would have been nice for Nooksack Tower) Approach Notes: Nooksack Cirque Trail

Drones are motorized--but the para gliders aren't. It boggles why anyone would have a problem with an unpowered wing that makes absolutely NO noise, emits NO exhaust. Two words come to mind: orthodoxy; doctrinaire. Two outstanding climbers finishing their trip in grand style. Just WOW!

Thanks. Just to save you a click, here's the update : This is Scott's first summit of Dragontail. He's been close, but never touched the top. We left the car at Bridge Creek CG at the late hour of 6am. It's nearly 4pm and the light is waning in the gloomy overcast. We snap a couple shots and click into the planks to make the first couple exposed turns just below the summit to the exit notch of the Triple Couloirs. However, for us it will be our entrance notch. I look down the 3rd couloir and can't see beyond a couple hundred feet. I tell Scott it's not too late to bail on the plan and ski our line of ascent. He says he's fine with TC's, so I guess we're committed. The 3rd couloir is in fantastic shape. All the rocks are covered, and the snow consists of stable soft powder. We make methodical turns down to the transition point of the 2nd and 3rd couloirs where there's a flat bench. Here, we talk. It's now almost completely dark. We weigh the merits of continuing vs. booting back out and descending the safe side. There are no cracks for pro here, so we'll have to chop a snow bollard to make the rap. I ask Scott what he wants to do. He says he's good for continuing, but sounds a little more ambivalent this time. So am I. Scott mentions that he's fine with skiing in the dark. Me too, I guess. We decide to set up the rap to see if our single 60m rope will reach the snow below. We thread the rope around the bollard and I toss the ends into the misty void. I weight the bollard and descend to see the ends are just barely visible, sitting on snow of the 2nd couloir. I tell Scott that once we make this rap, we are locked in to finishing the route, since I dont have the tools to reclimb this step. Scott gives me the green light and I continue down out of sight. As im waiting for Scott to rappel, the cycle of spindrift starts. The sound reaches us first, then a small waterfall of sugar snow that exploits every weakness in one's layering system as it flows over us. This pattern continues for the next 7 1/2 hours that we're in the dark bowels of this mountain. Scott touches down beside me. I very slowly and carefully pull our rap rope. I give Scott a bite of it as i pull to ensure it doesn't go flying down the mountain without us. I say that I will be slowing down from here on out to make sure no mistakes are made in worried haste. Scott says he's cool with this, stating, "It's not like it's going to get any darker at this point." I could hug this guy! Apart from a small rock constriction partway down that requires some careful side stepping, the skiing in the 2nd couloir mirrors that of the 3rd couloir. Joyous, steep powder by the small orb of a headlamp. But I know the dry runnels, steep exposed slabs of granite, loom in the blackness somewhere below us. It's impossible to tell with the misty fog that fills the air around us. Scott follows on his homemade board behind me, wielding his ice tool in front of him with both hands, like he's holding an assault weapon. I pull up next to the rock and dig out the snow and find a good crack for a cam and lost arrow piton. I pound in the pin, and the ringing of iron tells me the placement is most likely solid. The cam is good too, though I never fully trust cam lobes against snowy rock. I equalize the gear placing more emphasis on the pin, with the cam more as a backup. We place boards on packs and rap to a small alcove out of the way of the constant spindrift. Bad news is that there aren't any cracks worth a damn for an anchor. We decide to chop another bollard and this works swimmingly. Being 30 lbs heavier than Scott, I rappel first. I also have the all the gear with me to build each additional anchor. I slowly descend on rappel below the alcove, out of sight of Scott. The walls above the small cave are aglow in LED light from Scotts headlamp. I am able to dig out a nice crack for a .5 first generation camalot and a large stopper, which I weld into place with my single BD Viper ice tool that I have holstered on my harness. Solid! This is going easier than expected. I call up to Scott that I'm off rappel and he's good to come on down. Rappel #4 starts. In the dark it's impossible to estimate how many more raps will be necessary to reach the snow of the Hidden couloir. But so far, it's fine smooth and I'm confident in my ability to coax anchors in crappy rock. I can't wait to get to the bottom safe and sound. I suppress my imagination that is trying to distract me with visions of triumphantly exiting the final couloir out onto the slopes of Asgaard Pass. I'm near the end of the rap line, knots tied into the ends of the strands, and there are no cracks available for gear. I scrape the sugar snow from the rock for what feels like hours. I'm a little nervous, but not rushed. There's boot top snow to stand on, and I have a sling brake on the rap strands so that I can remain hands free looking for pro. I move from margin to margin of the narrow snow runnel but still can't find a crack. Meanwhile, more spindrift comes streaming down over my head, one slough with enough volume to threaten my stance. I lower more and continue scraping snow off rock, and notice I'm leaving small streaks of blood on the pink granite. An inspection of my right glove reveals an exposed middle fingertip where the glove material used to be. Ive worn a hole in my glove already. The tip is red and oozing blood. It's so cold and the circumstances such that I can't feel the pain anyways. I think to myself, wow. That should hurt right now, but it doesn't. Weird. I take out my viper and continue excavating. I concede on finding cracks and announce to Scott that we will have to build another bollard. United again, we chop a hasty bollard and thread the rope. Oh well, I tell Scott that at least we save our gear with this bollard. I'm about 40' below the snow anchor, half rapping, half downclimbing towards the steeper rock slabs when I get a feeling of sudden weightlessness. It tips me upright where I catch myself. Scott yells down that the rope had cut through the bollard, which is painfully obvious with the entire rope coiled at my feet. I tell Scott he'll have to downclimb the snow to my stance and we'll continue looking for pro. More begging ensues as we clean snow off rock. Time ticks slowly by. It feels like this one rap is running up on the 3rd hour, and we're no closer to finding a safe solution. Maybe a bigger bollard this time. Another cycle of spindrift pounds us as we dig. I look up to see stars in the black sky. We dig out a bollard twice the size of our previous one and again thread the rope. The snow is on a 60 degree slope, and it's only about 2' deep and mostly sugar. There is no way in helll im going to commit to it without some healthy body weight testing. I lean on the rope, and the thin 6mm line easily starts cutting through the snow. Im still jittery from the last close call, and this rap will take us over steep rock slabs, so full commitment will be required for this anchor. No go, I tell Scott. We need to scour the rock more. And I want to do it anchored with crampons, so decide to climb back up to our last gear anchor which is still accessible by steep snow climbing. Now im getting tired. It's 9pm or thereabouts and the day's labor is catching up with me. I'm struck, however, by how unemotional Scott and I are about the present situation. We go about our tasks with a businesslike indifference. When one solution doesn't pan out, we let go and move on to the next possible option without any attention to ego. We are here, right now in the guts of Dragontail peak in the pitch black watching spindrift avalanches flow by. It's actually quite fascinating, and I think to myself that this will all be very memorable in retrospect. But for now I have to find a crack for pro. I choke down some salty food and prepare to rap again. With Scott's crampons attached I have better purchase to dig around in the rock. I choose a semi solid slab area and start digging at a weakness with my ice tool until I've scraped a thin canal that accepts a ringing lost arrow and stopper that I again pound into the crack like a head. I weight the anchor still tied into the rap rope and bounce test it a few times. Solid! Thank God! Off rappel! C'mon down Scott. On rappel yet again, I come across a fixed anchor 80' below. Finally! I whoop up to Scott our good fortune. I adjust the faded cordage so the stopper and solid pin are equalized better and tie in, relieved we don't have to burn more of our own gear. I still can't see how much further down the hidden couloir is. I look up. The stars are gone and it's starting to snow. Roughly 40' down the next rap I find another fixed anchor of two inspiring pins in solid rock and newish webbing. I tell Scott we should use this anchor too, to maximize the extra length. Finally, I think, this is coming together. Though there's still a black void below us, I reason that the Hidden couloir and glory skiing can't be that much further down. Except the next rap produces no more fixed anchors and the rope ends dangle against near vertical slabs still. Near the end of the rope I start the clearing and scraping process all over again. The rock quality seems to have worsened if that's possible. Again, I carve out a tiny seam and coax my final pieces of pro-a stopper and small lost arrow- into this horror story that is passing as granite. The piton gives no audio feedback that it is solid as I hammer it in place. It bottoms out with a useless thud. I weld the stopper in an adjacent crack with the tool's pick. On rappel still, I bounce test the anchor and it seems to hold. It's a mostly hanging belay, so I hold my breath, tie into the pieces, and call off rappel. Scott comes down and perches on a small stance about 3' above the anchor at my request, since I don't trust the gear to tolerate the weight of both of us. I thread and toss the ends. They land on snow, and I'm reasonably assured that this is the final rap to the hidden couloir. I prepare to descend and find my ATC has disappeared. What ensues is a comical attempt by two fatigued minds trying to recall how to rap on a munter hitch. After 10 minutes of trial and much error, I say F' it and rap with the dulfersitz method. I touch down and recognize I'm indeed in the hidden couloir. No more rappels!!! I yell up to Scott, and tell him to come on down. I've been climbing for 12 years. I learned to climb on gear first, and learned quickly how to build reliable, safe anchors. I've developed a lot of confidence in my anchors and rapped countless times without incident on cams, stoppers, pitons and V-threads. Anchor failures do occur, but not to me. Not on my watch. But you read that sometimes it happens, and that personal trust between you and the rock-a relationship you've developed over years-can be broken in an instant. It did when my anchor failed as Scott started to rappel. I remember hearing a short yell from Scott. More out of surprise than outright panic. I remember watching his headlamp go flying past me. Out of instinct I grab the rap rope that is zipping down the 60 degree snow and see him tumble further down the couloir in strange silence. There's another 800 feet of steep, rock lined gully left to the hidden, with a small cliff at the bottom. In short, Scott is screwed. Then the headlamp comes to a stop 60' or so below me. He's fallen easily 70' from the rock slabs to the powder snow. Scott has somehow arrested his tumbling fall and confirms that he is ok. When asked later, he says he doesn't remember how he stopped his death slide. His injury? A scratched elbow. Without any emotional response to what just occurred, we kick steps over to a small alcove and gear up for the rest of the ski down. We're not done yet. I make the final few turns out onto low angled Asgaard Pass, and yelp as loud as I can out of immense relief. I have my baklava over my mouth and ears, and my yell causes my ears to ring. I yank down the mask and yell again, and again, and again. Just because it feels so good. We sit down on the snow and I sincerely apologize for the anchor failure, and feel responsible for his NDE. Scott understands, and is gracious. We just want to savor this victory. It's snowing hard now and it's closing in on midnight. We're both cold and wet, but have to just sit and wind down and just enjoy what it feels like to be on low angled terrain again and not have to worry about another rappel. We stagger to the cars by 5am. I go to the CWH ER in Wenatchee to get my finger cleaned up, then rush off to a court hearing by 9am. My colleagues declare me a zombie and send me home where I sleep for the next 6 hours. Scott emails me later in the day to say he tweaked his knee taking out the garbage.

Here is the route drawn in with red line, dashed lines mean climbing on other side. Basically we went about as far South as we could, backtracked a bit, then started up the SW face, 4th class to the ridge, then dropped on the East side of the ridge and followed that all the way to the summit. Only found a little film canister with wet paper and hard to read names from 1988 and 1991 so don't know who's been up there lately. Did see fresh tracks and a new sling, so somebody beat us up this year already.