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Trip: Banks Lake - Spice Rack M10+ (a Salt and Pepper direct start) Trip Date: 02/17/2025 Trip Report: This line struck me the first time I visited banks. By no means an original thought, every mixed climbing pervert who ever drove by also looked at it and felt their pants tighten. How we got so lucky came down to three factors: great weather, getting passed over on a trip to the Rockies (I’m over it now), and JJ’s advertisement of his OnlyFans during a UIAA comp- resulting in a season ban. Looking for a cathartic substitute we pivoted to suffering upward. For the uninitiated, Salt and Pepper is the existing WI5 line conventionally approached via a short 5th class traverse from the left. This direct start provides two amazing mixed pitches and 15-25m of bonus ice depending on the main dagger's condition. Weekend 1: @ColonelCrag aka Christian Junkar, and JJ, aka Jedrzej Jablonski began this attempt’s reconnaissance in early Feb, aiding the start of pitch 1 to assess feasibility, then rap bolting an intermediate anchor at the dagger, along with a few permadraws in the roof. I joined for a caffeine induced day trip from Seattle, attempting to lead from the bottom. Several whips and rock releases later, the drill came up pitch 1. With dwindling sun, the p1 highpoint was fixed with an orange rope. Salt and Pepper’s main dagger was the biggest we’ve ever seen, adding 25m of ice climbing to the standard route. Weekend 2, Day 1: (More Development) Government Worker's Weekend (previously known as Presidents’) provided an ideal weather window with a cold snap in the single digits followed by several days of stabilizing temps. As expected, the dagger snapped. Left, right and middle towards the wall cleaved off, leaving just the optimal contact area at the wall and a thin curtain with a shower in the middle. Maybe 10m of bonus ice disappeared, forcing the line to continue further up the p2 rock roof, gaining the ice with several overhanging moves. The fixed orange rope had been buried by the breaking dagger, with perhaps 15m of it claimed by fallen ice. The visible rope was cut, leaving the buried rope to be fished out from the fall’s pool in summertime. We continued the development with Tom bolting bottom up and leading some sections, JJ bolting top-down, we met at the p1 anchor… dodging icefall from the roof releasing throughout the day. Typing this a week later, I still feel my back from top-stepping aiders while bolting overhead in the p1 roof. Meanwhile, Christian was rewarded for his patient belay with a micro-trax solo of the first two pitches on a fixed line and cleaned as much as possible with the given daylight. Day 2: (Send day) We slept in and began around noon. Christian led pitch 1 and easily danced up the pitch while tossing loose rocks over his shoulder. Having recently competed in finals at the Ouray Mixed Comp, his base strength and finesse made it look much easier than reality. JJ followed, while clipping a second single rope for me as the third, allowing us to “siege” or “caterpillar” the line. We opted for two single ropes as opposed to twins, for the ease of manipulation in the p2 roof. In retrospect, either method would work fine- though a twin rope might have too much give if you fell while following in the p2 roof to get back on. The pitch 1 dagger and subsequent traverse remain exposed to falling rock and ice and act as a decisive hazard crux following the technical crux. At the p1 anchor, we hauled a pig via tag line on the last climber. (The pig rested on the far right side of the anchor ledge, waiting to be tagged up to the p2 anchor belay cave. This pig contained water, snax, and normal boots and pons for JJ and CJ, who opted to wear comp boots for p1 and p2. I opted to wear normal boots and my standard 1100g development pons, and was not prepared for the resultant level of suffering.) JJ boldly led out p2, with delicate feet and only minor grunting in the power crux (a full stretch stein to v-notch). Leading the final 15m of ice in comp boots and no secondaries must have been terrible, considering the ice required heavy cleaning. JJ might have placed a single screw in the ice, then levitated to the belay cave on the right side. Once we gathered at p2 anchor, the pig joined us, only getting caught briefly on the dagger. With happy feet we finished the ice pitches about 4:30pm, the only snag being a brutal 3-man rope pull from the ground. The intermediate anchor needs improvement as noted elsewhere. Beers and ice cream followed, celebrating both the send and our luck. Route P1 M8+ 30m 8 bolts, 2-3 screws, 2 knife blades, .2-.4; belay from a bolt and ice screws on the ledge to the left of the first bolt. 10’ of choss gives way to better rock and generous bolts, then gains the left side of the dagger to the shelf, going right to one more bolt and connecting ice blobs to the upper shelf. Stubbies or knifeblades would be helpful in the upper ice. Bolted belay ledge includes a rap ring for bail. A single 60m can rap to the ledge, walking / downclimbing the rest of the way. P2 M10+ 30m 4 screws, 10 bolts, 7 permadraws… so bring 2 draws for hangers without permas, and draws for screws. We placed 2 screws and used 2 at the anchor. Climb rock for a move or two up towards the first bolt until you can step onto the dagger left. Traverse daggers for a couple of moves (screw optional) and then enter the roof following bolts leading to the upper dagger. Recommended to go left on the dagger and then back right to belay in a cave on the right of the main flow. This route could be aided after the starting dagger. P3 wi5 main flow P4 10m wi4 3min walk to the back of your lazy susan where the forgotten spices and flours remain untouched. Rap: V-thread from the top of P4. Bolted anchor on top of p3 to the right side. Double 60 to intermediate rap chains (located where p2 gains ice on the right side of the flow. This anchor needs fixing… the 6mm chain was too short and makes for high friction pull (3 men, 1 rope). Second ascent party should add quick links compatible with 6mm chain and rap rings. From here, a double 60m rap easily touches down. Gear Notes: Screws, KBs, .2-.4, draws, double 60m. Approach Notes: Start at the back of the cave, expect ice/rock shedding until at the start.

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

Trip: 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.

The void at the center of the human condition will never be filled with climbing (at least it wasn't for me), but it is a fun hobby. Glad you survived unscathed to continue your quest! The Polish route has always looked burly, and this TR confirms that it isn't to be taken lightly...

Trip: Tamarack Meadows Climbing - Prusik (West Ridge), High Priest (North face), Mount Temple (West route) Trip Date: 09/07/2024 Trip Report: This seems like it has been the summer of obscure destinations for me. Places I've long thought about going but never made happen. Maybe it's because they're not top shelf destinations, but as I've aged and don't go as hard, I've increasingly found these sorts of trips fun because of the lack of traffic, because of the lack of beta, and how they've forced me back into to puzzling things out on the fly. The climbs on the north side of Temple Ridge definitely fit into this category. The dream of the 90's is alive! Or at least that is how I sold it to @Trent, @cfire, @BrettS, John and Leslie a few months back. And, minus the unanticipated smoke haze, I think it pretty much went off without too much drama. An energetic approach to idyllic camps below our climbs, time to lounge after our short approaches and moderate climbs, plenty of chocolate, and no other parties around. A great 4 day trip! I won't spoil your fun with beta overload, but here are a few photos to whet your appetite for up trip up Temple Canyon.... Snow Creek wall from the hike in: Sow and cub seen at Nada lake: Mild shenanigans to get up into Temple Canyon: High Priest (on the right) from camp: Heading to WR Prusik on Day 2 (still a classic- I hadn't climbed it in 24 years): Looking down into the heart of the Core Zone a the start of the WR of Prusik: John at a belay on the WR: John and Leslie higher up: A couple of me on WR Prusik: @cfire on the summit of Prusik: John and Leslie arrive at the summit: Shield Lake Valley: High Priest and Temple from Prusik: @Trentwas over on McClellan while we were on Prusik: Heading back to camp through Nada Pass, with Prusik above: Camp life! Night life! Goat life! Gearing up for High Priest North Face route (Beckey description works well, as does Mountaineers) : @BrettS and Leslie on the North Face of High Priest: Summit of High Priest looking over to Prusik and the peaks of the Core Zone: Summit block of High Priest from descent: We rapped off the standard High Priest descent and kept high, running the ridge over to Mount Temple. Expect shenanigans, but it goes without undue hardship! And then you have the great mid-fifth pitch to the summit of Mount Temple: and the airy rap back down: After descending Mount Temple, we admired the Meteor. Supposed the crack on this west side is "5.12- or aid. From it's top step right into a 5.10 off-width" After a final night at camp, all that was left was to reverse the shenanigans getting back to Nada Lake, including a nice view of the Black Pyramid, The Professor, Comet Spire, and the Meteor (L-R): : A lunch stop at Nada Lake to admire the reflections: And arrival at Icicle Creek, relieved to find our drinks still hidden and cold! Gear Notes: Medium Rack to 2", helmet, 60m single rope, rock shoes Approach Notes: Core zone permit needed. Snow Creek trail to Nada lake. Go right at the second toilet and find a faint climber's trail leading up to a cliff band. Find a key ledgy 3rd class ramp that will take you up and right through the cliff band., Follow rib up and left and then up to where valley rolls off. Bits of tread lead up into Temple Canyon and then disappear. Follow your nose up the drainage to about 7200' where it opens up to good camping in Tamarack Meadows. An energetic and stimulating approach.

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

Well, being a peakbagger....I don't repeat! My first mountain was the South Sister in Oregon....with my dad. Probably around 1983.

Me on the summit of Sahale, back when I had hair, September 1995. Cotton jeans and flannel!

Here you go @korengalois: JasonG portfolio images I probably need to update these galleries....been a couple years since I added some images to them. But....you get the idea - I like hauling a boat anchor around the mountains.

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

Ah, my apologies for the false accusation and derailing your TR. Again thanks for posting it!

Hey Troy, thanks for the great trip report and nice climb! Evidently I spend too much time on Reddit but I saw the video your buddy made and wanted to point out that drones in Wilderness areas are not allowed. In the current political environment I have a hard time seeing FS staff ticketing based off of online videos but I just wanted to give you a heads up so you don't happen to get nailed or keep flying drones in the wilderness.

Great work!

I'm coming up on fifty years of climbing in the PNW and, God willing, might be able to repeat a trip or two from the late 1970s. Hiked up my first summit, Bearhead Mountain, in 1975 and will do it again this summer with my grandkids. A couple more years until my Rainier jubilee--and I'd love to repeat Adams Glacier in 2029. I stood on my first glacier in 1974--but, sadly, Anderson Glacier is no more. Anyone here have climbs they've repeated 50 years later? 40 years later? Then & now photos?

My first summit "climb" (actually, hike with a short exposed section) was as at 12 (1972) with my dad of Mt Pugh. I was hooked. My first glaciated pk was Mt Olympus at 13, again with my dad and some of his associates. I met my good friend and climbing partner/inspiration, Roger, in 7th grade at the first meeting of the Edmonds Jr. High Climbing Club. That year Roger climbed Liberty Ridge with Bill Sumner and Dusan Jagersky. I remember when he came into our mechanical drawing class after that with his severely sunburned face. I was in total awe. We were going to climb Liberty Ridge in 2023 on the 50th anniversary, but the route was already "out" by Memorial Day weekend when the White River road opened and we settled for The Kautz. It's been a good run. Hoping for a few more repeats. Pics : with my good friend Will on Mt Pugh 50 years after the 1st time, climbing "ice" at Lake Serene (what a great haircut), Mt Olympus 1973 (my dad far left),

I guess I better head up Mt. Angeles again in 2026, I think that will be 30 yrs for the first time I roped up on a peak. Ironically we used goldline with a bowline around the waist for a 4th class step which was anachronistic even for 1996.

Thanks for sharing your story! It brought me vividly back to my experience on the route almost 10 years ago now. My most fond moments in the mountains have been those in which success seemed unlikely along the way, right up until we made it. Pushing through and succeeding, whether I did it 'clean' or not, was what mattered. Well done.

Thanks for sharing, I was sure wishing I had the fitness and partners and time to get on it (or much of anything) this season!

He has really good pull test videos and results on the interwebs also.

The right couloir of 11300 is an excellent route. A significant step up from the SW ridge but not much harder than ham and eggs, especially if you retreat from the ridge and skip the Alaskan ridge adventure to the summit. I posted about it in 2016 and I’m not sure if anyone else has done it since. It deserves more traffic!

The Cassin was planned for a different year. We climbed both Ham & Eggs and Shaken Not Stirred on the same 2 week trip. So we got a bump from TAT mid trip between the Root Canal and the West Fork. But we did have the Southwest Ridge of Dan Beard in our options. I also remember a team climbing good terrain up the valley behind and west of Peak 11300. I am not sure of the exact route though.

HowNOT2.com has a good gear shop and climbing advocate and would be a good location. contact@hownot2.com 1065 12th Ave NW, Suite E7, Issaquah, Washington 98027

What a beautiful flow. I'm glad Colfax let you pass and complete the climb without any injuries!

Great read! You have a gift for writing and bringing the reader with you.

https://www.gearrepairmv.com/ Great service, fast turnaround, and quality work. Keep those softgoods out of the landfill and in the mountains!

Nice moves Troy. Glad you had a good adventure and didn't get hurt in that fall! Scary stuff. Gotta love the Twight-esque writing style. It takes a certain kind of climb to put a climber in the mood to write like that.

That is quite a story! Glad everything held! Some people say that if you want to push yourself and you aren’t failing then you are trying. I’m past pushing myself like that but appreciate people who do.

Nice write up and Showa 282-02's for the win!

It is shocking to see just how much so.....I was last on Frostbite Ridge in high summer of 2003 (August?) and it was completely snow covered, top to bottom. We only had a tiny bit of ice climbing out of the crater.

Yes, you do!!! And whoever is reading this has decided to continue being alive (Louis CK spinoff). Go us! I just meant that for a technical climb, they're on the very easy side of the grade spectrum.

Pretty sure Oregon volcano snowpacks are doing great this year! Butttt who knows how the spring warmup will go and what the weather will be like for the days you're around? I wouldn't recommend buying plane tickets to do specific objectives up here in the spring, but if you are flexible and could pivot to still have fun if you can't do these specific peaks, then great! I haven't been up Jefferson before and I love skiing and have technical snow and ice experience, so if the timing works out I could get stoked on it! Send me a message with your phone number and a few paragraphs about your climbing experience, specifically steep snow and ice!

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

That’s jason in the image above with the red hat

Can we just make one of Jason's pictures a sticker?

Man, it sure has been cold lately, and the snowpack ought to be nicely consolidated. Maybe someone should go nab this?

I would recommend the East Ridge of Jack instead. I thought the South face route to be a garbage pile in comparision (we went down that way). But also, I think a spring ascent of the Nohokomeen is great! I guess I am saying that Jack is worth climbing, but the South Face is maybe not the best line.

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

Trip: Mount Garfield - Southwest Route Trip Date: 08/31/2024 Trip Report: "As has been reported elsewhere, Garfield is a hazardous enigma. It offers more than a climb, for it is also a physical and orienteering challenge. It is important to get a very early start. While a 12-hour r.t. is generally considered a minimum, only during the long days of summer will there be sufficient daylight for what is a long, steep climb, with some very exposed areas." -Fred Beckey, Cascade Alpine Guide I first read the section above in the 1990s when I was just getting into climbing and frankly was both attracted and scared by the photos and descriptions in the Beckey guide. An early trip report by @CascadeClimber and @philfort did little to dissuade my apprehension of this peak and so it sat for decades on the back burner. Always there, always taunting, even long after I probably had acquired enough chossdawgery skillz to make an ascent a reasonable goal. Turns out, two of my long-time climbing partners felt the same, and somehow it came to all of our attentions this year that Garfield could no longer be ignored. In the words of @Trent, "It must be climbed!" Secretly, I was hoping that @klenke was still correct and the the route was dumbed down by a bootpath and flagging. But I wasn't so lucky- he can rest easy on the golf course or the workfloor of the Lazy B, knowing that the brush has returned, the flagging rotted away, and that the blue collar masses have moved on (or died?). This peak is probably once again nearly as lonesome as it was when Fred first penned those words (the register went back to 1987 and traffic really has dropped off the past 10-15 years). I can honestly report that it is proper challenge for a Cascades Connoisseur such as those that frequent this esteemed site. (If you want hardman or hardwoman points, read no further and just photocopy the pages out of Brown Fred for your trip. If you're someone like me....read on) But we didn't know any of that when @therunningdog, @Trent and I rolled into the "gravel wash" that marks the start of this 4500' off trail adventure, late on a Friday night in Trent's old VW camper (nickname "Speedy"). There was another car camping there, but given the smoking and drinking we were pretty sure that they weren't heading to Garfield in the morning. Then again, I think a late evening of smoking and drinking would probably have been fitting preparation for the peak. Next time. Alarms were set for crazy early, I think about 430, since we had heard ample stories of unplanned bivies, thrashing exits in the dark, and general mini-epics. We were thinking 13-15 hours would be about what it would take and planned accordingly. But it turns out, us old dogs (combined team age of 158) can still beat Beckey and we were back to the van in about 11.5 hours, including breaks. The early start gave us extra time for beer and chips, so it wasn't all for naught. To be honest, the way up was mostly a blur. A dark gravel wash to an impassible set of falls started things. We went left into the forest when we should have gone right (be sure to keep that Beckey topo in your pocket and consult at all junctures!) and then I somehow thought that the real "dirt gully" below, wasn't the right dirt gully and kept going past it. Trent and Tim kindly put us back on the right track without too much wasted time The "dirt gully" wasn't that bad, but it wasn't that good either. You don't want to be on this mountain with more than about 4 people. 2-3 is about right so you can move as one team. Shortly after the gully you climb up and hit some slabs that force you left. We went all the way left then found a weakness to scramble up and right back towards the ridge crest which is below the "rock outcrop" and "razorback" that you hit right before the "tiny notch". You will be referring to the topo many times in this section, wondering where in the hell you are while looking way down into the "Great Canyon". It is a wild mountain. Soon enough you will come to the "glade saddle" where you will see a short gully leading to the "wooded ramp": which will take you to the brushy "key ledge" where you will be thankful for the brush for hiding the significant exposure. The brush will also distract you from the fatality that occurred in this spot, presumably due to the "trecherous footing" that Beckey describes: And then the meat of it, the "no. 1 Gully is reached, with the "no. 2 Gully" just beyond it: We had already chosen no. 1 Gully as our line, even though Fred describes it as the alternate path up, mostly due to a few of the more recent TRs we dug up which we compared to older no. 2 Gully TRs. I am sure that both have their pluses and minuses. The no. 1 Gully starts out easy, but then a step is encountered where @Trent ably put the rope up for Tim and I. It was a bit trickier than it looked with polished rock and moss. I sort of wanted to do a shoulder stand in the spirit of this peak, but unfortunately I was the last one up. So I grunted and lurched my way up. Then it was mostly easy 2nd and 3rd class scrambling until you had to turn right under the Leaning Spire to ascend slabs to a small col that dropped you halfway up the no. 2 gully. Here the way got harder with some slabby 4th mixed in with the slabby 3rd. We were in boots/approach shoes, which I think is the correct footwear for this route. The slabbyness isn't sustained or hard enough to warrant rock shoes. Plus rock shoes are definitely not blue collar! Style matters. Soon enough we were established in the no. 2 Gully and began to chug upwards to the "crux" chimneys. The first one we soloed: The next one, @Trent led, again. It was wet and involved a lot of grunting and pack dragging. Still, I think it is preferable to the variations that others have reported to the right. The notch between the Leaning Spire and the summit was easily reached after the chimneys, and here we went a bit too far left. You basically want to go straight up a cl. 3-4 slab above the col until you can burrow into a brush tunnel (complete with trimmed branches!) that will take you up and left to the summit ridge. A short walk right will land you on the true summit. If ever there was a peak where the summit was "halfway", Garfield is it! We dug out the register and marveled at who had signed in over the years. Some famous climbers in there and it was fun to take the trip back in time. The views weren't half bad either. It is a long way down to the Middle Fork and the van, less than two miles horizontally from the top. But, like most summits where the descent is worrisome, we didn't stay very long. The descent was also a blur, though it went faster than expected. Several bolted stations in the no. 2 gully greatly helped by keeping us out of the path of the inevitable rockfall. I think we did 6 30m raps total, about 3 in each gully. We paused on the "key ledge traverse" to oogle the Great Canyon in better light as we passed again: And also stopped to admire the Doorish part of the mountain as well. Anybody know that guy? I have to say that he's a legend, at least in my estimation. The routes he did, in the era that he did them, are truly astounding. He had a funny entry in the summit register talking about "a bit of an epic" he and Alex Cudkowicz had in June of 1988 where they ended up spending 2 unplanned bivies (in the rain!) establishing a route that they thought would go in a day. Yowza. Yeah, this should go in a day: But soon enough we were back at the easy slabs, scrambling down to the forest, the dirt gully, the forest, the gravel wash, the forest..... and then....BEER. Gear Notes: 60m twin rope, helmet, light rack to 2", leather gloves. Boots or approach shoes. Best to go after snow leaves the gullies Approach Notes: Middle Fork Road to gravel wash. Page 214 in Brown Fred has a great topo of the route/approach, which is all the experienced chossdawg needs.

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

As long as I’m alive I will try to keep the lights on. Always open to a younger contingent to take over the site when the time is right, but also has to be people with a similar vision. Community first, non-commercial. I get offers to buy the site from the usual vampires, but I’d turn it off before that. BUT! Enough of that kind of talk. Let’s keep building a better community and sharing what draws us all here in the displace.

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

Trip: Borah Peak - Southwest - "Chicken Out"- Ridge Trip Date: 06/29/2024 Trip Report: This past summer I went on a month long, 4300+ mile, road trip with the family all over the West. Mostly we were seeing National Parks that my wife and kids had never been to, but I managed to plan 3 state high points into the itinerary. Borah Peak (12,662') was the first up, coming after a tour through Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks. As with all the state high points, Borah has an abundance of beta online so I'll spare you all the nerdy details and mostly share impressions and photos. First, I thought this was a peak worth doing. There is fantastic camping close by at the Joe Fallini Campground, which is cheap and right on a lake with decent swimming and fishing. This campground is about a 30m drive to the trailhead (if you don't blast past it like we did), which puts you in easy striking distance for an alpine start. The views start quickly and expand. There aren't a lot of trees in the Lost River Range and it was fun to see an entirely different range where I basically knew none of the summits. Soon we were up above treeline and the aptly named "Chicken Out" ridge came into view: As did Mt. Morrison: At the base of the knife edge portion of the ridge, my wife and youngest opted to turn back but surprisingly my oldest stuck right on my tail. I had a quick chat with him to make sure he understood that while it wasn't overly difficult (exposed 3rd/4th class), a fall would likely be very, very bad. He said he was fine and was moving calmly and confidently, and so we continued upward. Where the knife edge ends, there was a small snow saddle to cross. Again, not hard, but with a terrible and steep runout. Again, another chat. This time I insisted in tying on a 30m length of 6mm cord I had brought so as to keep my son from a very long ride should he slip out of the steps and not arrest. Of course, he was fine, but I felt better with the added security. And then the real slogging began. We were over 11k with the summit in sight, and surprisingly all by ourselves. My son began to slow way down in the thin air. It was by far the highest he had ever been but appeared to be in good spirits and so we just kept chugging upwards. And then, we made it, finding one other dude up there taking a nap. I think we may have surprised him. We hung around in excellent weather for at least an hour, reading the register, taking in the views, and generally enjoying a perfect day on a high peak. It doesn't get much better! But, of course, all good things must end and so we turned around to begin the 5k+ of downward staggering. Here's a view back at the summit after we had dropped about 1500': And then to reverse Chicken Out Ridge.... of which I was a bit nervous for my son, but he of course thought that it was all just a great adventure: Looking back at the upper mountain from just above treeline: We finished the day back at Joe Fallini Campground, treated to a beautiful sunset as the cattle lowed in the distance. The next day we would begin the trek SE to King's Peak in Utah for a 4th of July Ascent (in the next installment!)... Gear Notes: Poles, helmet (optional), crampons/axe if snowy Approach Notes: The trailhead is located north of Mackay, Idaho along US-93. Look for the signed turn between Mile Markers 129 and 130. Drive to the end of the road where there is camping and an outhouse. It is a bit grungy there, however, and much preferred BLM's Joe Fallini Campground close by.

Trip: Baffin Island - Auyuittuq Trip Date: 08/02/2024 Trip Report: Prologue If a memory cannot be refuted by evidence than it must be the truth so I present this memory as such even if I have some misgivings whether it is in fact the case. I entered Western Washington University in 1991 and as a freshman living on campus I would frequently find myself in the Wilson Library thumbing through what already felt like an antiquated copy of Doug Scott’s “Big Wall Climbing”. Published in 1974 it was only seventeen years old but felt a world apart from the climbing culture and techniques of the early 1990’s. Within a chapter entitled “The Development of Big Wall Climbing in Remote Regions” the author had written a detailed description of his recent expeditions to Baffin Island. And I would claim it was here I first became aware of Mount Asgard. Asgard, a tremendous granite turret with an ice-covered summit plateau rearing 3,000 vertical feet out of an endless labyrinth of glacier ice. The “Scott Route”, a 4,000 foot-long free climb following a beautifully sculpted pillar of exquisite granite. This was clearly a route I wanted to climb. In fact it was The Route I wanted to climb and for over thirty years it always remained as such. A fantasy at the top of my bucket list exceeding the ability, vision or time I had available at different stages of my life. A transcription of our logbook entry at the Thor Emergency Shelter written on July 28th, 2024 We arrived in Pangnirtung on July 3rd. A healthy snowpack and a cool spring had left the mountains still draped in snow and the head of the fjord still covered in ice. A fortunate warm and windy day broke up the ice and on July 5th we entered the park, arriving here on the 6th under cold, leaden skies in a stiff wind Establishing basecamp, we were then unknowingly blessed with largely cool dry days that alternated between overcast and windy or quiet and partly cloudy. The ice slowly melted from the river, the snow on the peaks melting even slower. The first wildflowers bloomed and the days grew perceptibly warmer, Via both success and failure we developed our understanding of these mountains. Huge approaches, difficult climbing, long descents. On our second attempt we climbing the southwest ridge of Mount Menhir, the looming monolith just west of the hut. We were also fortunate to establish two first ascents on impeccable rock with relatively easy access and quick descents. On the large slab wall approximately 40 minutes up valley we linked beautiful splitters into a ten pitch 5.9 we called “Pang Ten”. Later we climbed it again and added sturdy rap anchors. With a twenty minute approach from the trail and no summit it’s a crag climb on Baffin! Above “Pang Ten” we eyed the beautiful flowing east buttress of the East Tower of Northumbria. From the hut here it’s the right skyline of the rightmost peak of the Northumbria group. With binoculars you can pick out the extensive splitters we climbed just this side of the skyline. Eight pitches of moderate 5.8-5.9 climbing on the most perfect rock. Just pure fun and now setup with solid rap stations. The link up of these two routes would make for an amazing Grade V climb without the extensive approaches or difficult descents of other long routes. Highly recommended! July 19th through the 22nd brought the stable, clear weather climbers dream of on Baffin. A long casual approach with a nice siesta at Summit Lake took us to a high bivi on a thankfully melted out Caribou Glacier. Starting at 1 am on the 20th we approached the fabled Scott Route on the North Summit of Asgard. 1200 meters of climbing over 23 pitches took us to the summit at 10 pm. Witness to a spectacular sunset, an endless sea of jagged peaks like diamonds in the periwinkle glow of the midnight sun. Being on that summit is as “out there” as we’ve ever been. The descent was long and tenuous with terrible snow conditions. We returned to our high camp 30 hours after leaving it. Since then the weather has deteriorated into more typical Baffin conditions, lots of rain, snow in the mountains and strong winds. Thoughts turn to home and family as our remaining days here melt into one another. Yesterday we hauled our first load out to Schartzenbach Falls, tomorrow on the 29th we leave for good. Our stay here has been perfect. So many memories. The intensity and beauty of the high peaks balanced by many wonderful rest days here around the hut, mending clothes, doing laundry, cooking, reading and soaking in the views. The world is vast and we may never return to this location again but our memories will always be of much contentment here, we wanted for nothing. Darin Berdinka (Bellingham, WA) & Owen Lunz (Lafayette, CO) 7/6/24-7/29/24 View up fjord upon arrival in Pang Starting the approach in inclement weather Basecamped next to and occasionally in the Thor Emergency Shelter. Mount Menhir in background. Left skyline is SW Ridge V 5.9. Starting up the southwest ridge of Menhir. Twelve pitches. Possibly 3rd ascent based on archeological assessment of rappel tat. Supernatural alpine beauty Pano from basecamp. Menhir on left, multiple summits of Northumbria on right. Looking up the Active Recovery Wall. Forty minutes up valley of the Thor Hut. Surprised to find no evidence of prior passage. Pitch 5 or so, climbing perfect splitters. Enjoyable corners high on the slab. Thor in background. Top of the slab. A few days later we'd climb the clean 1200' buttress just right of Owen. Approaching the East Tower of Northumbria. Pulling through a roof on perfect locks and crimps. Most of the climbing was in lovely splitters on the best imaginable rock. Summit views out over largely untrodden peaks. View out over Weasel River Valley with Thor across the way once again. View down valley from Summit Lake Emergency Nap in the Emergency Adirondack Chairs at the Summit Lake Emergency Shelter. Looking out over the Parade Glacier at 3 am. Asgard on left. Frigga on right. Another party was establishing a new A5 route on the left most pillar of Frigga that day. Asgard. Route started along right side of square snowpatch. 2nd pitch. Runout slabs. I look stupid in this photo but it does provide an excellent view of the upper pillar. Abandoned equipment high on the route. What epic unfolded here? 2nd to last pitch. Wet, wide and exhausting. Sunset view from just below summit. The artic gloaming. Loki in foreground. Epilogue So on a lovely day in the summer of 2024, several weeks after having climbed Asgard via the Scott Route I returned to the Wilson Library to see if I could track down the book. The library and its grounds felt little changed and somewhat surprisingly the book was still there, biding its time on a dusty shelf. Despite now being three times older than when I first perused it the book felt no more antiquated then it once had. And despite the passage of thirty-three years since those august days of youth I pleasantly realized that, on this day at least, I didn’t feel significantly different either. Other Images The incomparable Breidalblik Peak. Sun/shade line climbed in 1971 at V 5.9 A1. On the wrong side of the river for easy access. Bivi on the Caribou Glacier. Mount Tyr and Mount Walle in background. West Face of Mount Thor Signs of life below Mount Sif. Gear Notes: standard rack Approach Notes: Fly to Pangnirtung. Boat twenty miles up fjord. Hike 25 miles to Asgard. Supplies can be hauled in by sled in winter. Contact Peter Kilabuk.

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

Ha this is a gem of a report. Thanks for digging it up, and to @Tom Beirne for sharing

Cool report and pictures! A couple of friends and I climbed the route in the 80s.

Nice writeup, thanks for sharing!

Indeed, what an adventure! Thanks for linking it here....

Trip: Mesahchie Tour - JGAP LLC Trip Date: 05/21/2022 Trip Report: One of the things I enjoy most about rambling around in the hills is figuring out the "best" way or time of year to do trips. This often takes repeated visits to a route or area, in several seasons, and maybe over as long as 10 years or more. Of course "best" is entirely subjective, but it typically means (for me) when/how the outing the the most "fun" (or, TBH, easiest). I'm not getting any younger, so I need to use all the tricks I can. It also helps to bring strong, competent, younger partners along. @geosean ably fit that role on the Mesahchie Tour yesterday and helped it all click. In the case of this tour, it took three times and ignoring some of the advice you'll find online or in a guidebook. But despite my stubborness, we were rewarded with fun turns, spectacular views, and solitude. We also had the full mix of weather, from spring to winter and back again in the span of a few hours. And the full mix of snow conditions as well, including some of the stickiest snow either of us has had the "pleasure" of skiing. But we had a great time overall, with minimal shenanigans. But just remember, "best" is in the eye of the beholder. You might hate the way we went so I'll let you figure it out for yourself. That is the part of the allure of the North Cascades, no matter the weather or season. Oh, and if you were the one who stole the catalytic converter from my '91 Civic while it was parked for a few hours at the Easy Pass TH (in broad daylight!), I hope you really needed that hit of meth. Sheesh. NF of Graybeard: Golden Horn and Hardy: Hardy: NF of Arches: The one and only @geosean Look at that, a nice path through the cornice! How civilized: My favorite view of the trip, NF of Goode: Glamour shotz by JGAP: North side of Ragged Ridge: Probably the best turns of the day, fast and smooth and in the sun: NF of Katsuk: NF of Mesahchie: Then we had some winter: Minimal shenanigans getting over Granite creek on a nice jam: Look at that footwork!: Gear Notes: leave the snowshoes at home! Approach Notes: Follow Volken or your own nose. There are options