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I hope everyone realizes by now that @olyclimber is taking responsibility for supporting the site out of his own pocket. I had an idea to help out in this regard, namely to print and frame six of my images and auction them in support of the site. I have set the opening bid prices to give the site a decent donation, while still covering my material costs for printing and framing each image. I am not charging for my labor, nor delivery of these framed prints to anywhere along I-5, from Bellingham to Seattle. I'm totally biased, but they look really nice. It is a bit of a gamble. I hope this works to generate some income for running the site, but it is up to you all to see if it does! If you are interested in a particular image, please respond in the thread below and I will track them (I'll try and keep the bids below updated as the prices rise). I will keep the bidding open for about two weeks, closing at 23:59 on 1/23/23. Bids are closed! Image #1. Fire on the Mountain. Sunrise on the Inspiration Icecap. Image is 16"X24" (HxW), total framed size is 27"X33" (HxW). @Sir Crikalot wins with $200! Image #2. Eldorado from Primus. Note the climbers on the summit ridge. Image is 24"X16", total framed size is 31"X25". @bellows wins with $300! Image #3. High Summer in the Pickets. Image is 16"X24". Total Framed size is 25"X31". @Sir Crikalotwins with $360! Image #4. Sunrise of McMillan Spires. Image is 24"X16", total framed size is 31"X25". @Sir Crikalotwins with $360! Image #5. East Fury Sunrise. Image is 16"X24". Total Framed size is 25"X31". MY SISTER ( 😅) wins with $225! Image #6. Crowder from Pickell Pass. Image is 16"X24". Total Framed size is 25"X31". @Sir Crikalot wins with $175.

Trip: Seton Lake - FA-Lieutenant Dan's Aquatic Death Ride - 450m 4+ Date: 12/16/2022 Trip Report: Ice climbing around Lillooet has been on my to do list for a few years now. Just needed the right conditions and a stoked partner. This December it came together. Doing some research on the area, Zach Krahmer and I saw that an epic looking and unclimbed line had come in at Seton lake and it seemed too good not to take a shot at. We'd be there Thursday night, and Friday looked to have the best weather conditions to go for the route. The West Coast Ice guidebook advises climbers to “canoe down the lake about an hour to the climbs” on Seton Lake. Jesse Mace and Bruce Kay used a canoe, but recommended a row boat in their report for the FA of Piss 'n Vinegar. Jesse highlighted a few concerns with a canoe including potential capsizing in choppy weather and damage to the boat while climbing (from falling ice, and hitting the cliff if winds picked up as you climbed). Coming from Oregon, we looked into canoe rentals near Lillooet and found none given the season. After almost giving up due to feasibility concerns, a friend of Zach’s offered to loan us a rowboat style 2-person raft made of ripstop material. Not only would it fit in the car on the drive up, but it might be more stable in choppy water, and once we unweighted it to climb, it would be less likely to be damaged by contact with the rock cliff. On the face of it, there seemed to be some sensible advantages over a canoe. However, an obvious question remained → how to start ice climbing with crampons from an inflatable raft in an ice cold lake surrounded by steep rock cliffs? Would there be a place to safely step off the raft onto the climb without crampons that wouldn't result in a slip into the frigid water below? Jesse's trip report mentioned (jokingly) that a gun might be better than a life jacket if one were to fall in. It was hard to tell from the compressed pictures we’d seen online to know what would be waiting for us. We arrived in town Thursday evening and Zach drove us straight to the lake knowing that we might be paddling back the next night in similar conditions. The waves were nearly non-existent and the water almost completely calm. Checking the forecast we saw the next night's forecast was similar, which gave us what we needed to make a decision. We decided the next morning we would paddle out and see how the raft to climb transition looked. We hoped for the best, but knew very well we might be paddling right back to where we started. Prepping the boat in the early morning hours Ready to disembark The next morning we arrived in the dark after checking forecasts again. We inflated the raft and launched into the calm water. It was a peaceful paddle and we saw four eagles on the way out, one of them diving into the water for its meal. We took note of the other climbs that were coming in nicely this season. Looking back 2 km to our put in from aboard the raft. Comedy of Errors | Deliverance / Squeal Like a Pig | Fishin' Musician Fishin' Musician on left with Winter Water Sports in the distance. The climb! After 5-6 km of paddling, we neared our objective. We were dismayed by what we saw. The wall was far too steep to step onto safely without crampons. We paddled past the climb for a new perspective in hopes of seeing something nearby that could get us established, but found nothing. Passing by again, we took a longer look at the thin layer of ice that came down close to the water's edge. The ice nearest the lake water was partially delaminated from the rock, but seemed to be solid just a little higher. We devised a plan. With Zach holding dynamic tension from a cam at the rear of the boat, I would reach over to the sheet of ice and place ice screws, attach slings to those screws and then step into the slings with cramponless boots. This would get me high enough off the water, and far enough from the raft, so that I could attach crampons and get moving. Because the ice closest to the water was questionable, I knew I had to get a screw as high as possible. I leaned over kneeling carefully and started to place the first 10 cm screw. After just a few turns, the screw bottomed out onto the rock below. Damn. Surely I’d just hit an unlucky bit of thinner ice. “How easy this all would be if I just had my crampons on!” I removed the screw and placed it again, once again hitting rock after a few turns. Not willing to take a chance on such a marginal placement, I reached as high as I could while Zach steadied the raft. From this precarious stance, I managed to get a screw about 7cm into the ice. Knowing the failure mechanics of partially driven screws, and knowing I would be delicately standing in the sling rather than taking a dynamic fall, this seemed adequate to get started. I clove-hitched into the first screw to safeguard a higher reach and placed another screw. It wasn't great either, but deep enough! Using my tools I carefully stood up in the raft and got a foot into the first sling. I gently weighted it and saw no sign of failure. I stood up, and placed my foot into the other screw’s sling. With all my weight now on the wall, I reached higher to thicker ice. I fired in another screw and clipped into it. Now I was far enough from the raft to put on crampons safely. It ain't easy touching your toes while hanging off a screw and wearing a life jacket, but after a few minutes of uncomfortable gymnastics, the crampons were on! Now that I was properly ready, I shot up to a position above an overhanging cove where we would stow the raft. I built a v-thread to attach the raft and belay Zach up. Moments later we'd hauled up an array of “oh shit” gear (hot broth, food, bivy gear, dry clothes, warmers and anything else we might need if the boat failed) that had been stowed in waterproof bags in the raft. Zach cleaned the boat and made his way up to join me at the belay. We were finally ready to climb but the extra care we'd taken in exiting the raft had used up a considerable bit of time. Weighing the various risks, we'd prioritized fastidious attention to detail during this tricky and unfamiliar portion of climbing instead of schedule, and it showed. We were starting the climb at 12:30pm. We discussed and agreed - we weren't sure how far we would make it before we ran out of daylight, but the first half of the climb had looked relatively easy, so maybe we could make up time? I started up the first pitch which cuts over and then up a small section of ice that spills over and connects the starting cove and the primary flow of ice above. This first section turned out to be excessively wet, chandeliered ice with no real options to avoid the flowing water. I did my best to move quickly, and soon enough I was above the cove, an anchor was built and Zach was brought up. Above us was a long stretch of multiple 70m pitches of WI3 before steepening into the main headwall. We had twin 70m ropes so I knew I could cover a fair distance with each pitch, just had to move smoothly and efficiently! I took off. Although often wet, the climbing was straightforward, and soon enough I was 70m above Zach ready to set up a belay. “At this rate we stand a chance to make up time!'' I thought. But my hopes were quickly dashed. As I built the anchor and started to pull the weight of the two 70m ropes, I found we’d encountered an unfortunate new challenge. The rope was completely saturated and freezing in the cold temps. Not only was this creating a massive amount of resistance to pull the rope through my device as it sheared off the thick ice, but since the ropes were so coated in ice they were nearly impossible to grab with my glove, often slipping right through as I tried to pull in slack. I worked hard to use whatever tricks I could think of, but I was not able to pull in slack quickly, slowing Zach’s progress substantially. Finally Zach was at the belay and I started up the next pitch. On lead I was able to move relatively quickly, but at every belay the icy rope recoated, and seemed impossible to pull though the belay device. It wasn’t getting any better as we continued on, and it was taking a toll. The belaying was literally harder than leading the pitches! Around halfway up the wall the sun began to fade, and we knew we'd have to make a decision on whether to continue on or descend to our vessel. Winds were non-existent and temps were comfortable as night fell. The biggest challenge continued to be the icy belays, but conditions were downright pleasant, and route finding with a headlamp was going well so we decided to continue upward. The main headwall is a series of roughly pitch length ice steps, that each obscure the step above (probably exacerbated by the limitations of our headlamps). So at the top of each step we'd be sure we were on the last pitch, only to find another full rope length of climbing above. Slowly but consistently we checked in and continued on. The late night and cool temps brought some neat Hoarfrost. Similar to this branch, the hoar frost binded horizontally to many of the ice pillars on the upper portion of the climb. Way behind schedule but in good spirits, we topped out and built the first v-thread, preparing to descend. It was a beautiful night, and surely raps couldn't be as hard as the guide mode belays! Late, but in good spirits! Descending was relatively smooth with the exception of the rope freezing to the cliff a few times and a route finding error where I went too far to climber's right and ended up in the wrong drainage. Accidents seem to happen on the way down when people start to lose focus or rush, so we did our best not to do either, slowing and safely working our way down the wall. Before too long we were back at our stash of gear, drinking from Zach's thermos and eating snacks, our raft floating safely in the protected cove below. So far so good, now we just needed to get back into the boat and paddle out! We could hear the sound of waves below us, sounding larger than what we’d experienced on the way in. We tried to make out the lake conditions with our headlamps, but the dark water seemed to reflect almost nothing. We’d taken far longer than we’d anticipated to get to this point, and now the sun would be up soon. Feeling warm and good, we figured we might as well relax for a minute, taking our time to eat and drink, as daylight would make navigating the lake easier. Shortly after sunrise, as we prepped for the last rap into the raft, Tyler Creasey arrived transporting another party in his boat. From his boat, Tyler offered for us to come aboard to relax and enjoy his heated cabin for a few minutes once we got off the climb. We’d spoken to Tyler the previous week and ran into him the night before at the Cookhouse–awesome honey garlic wings by the way! Tyler is offering his services to climbers for the first time and we’d recommend connecting with him if you are interested in his boat. We removed and safely stowed anything sharp, put life jackets on and rappelled into the raft. We’d intentionally left the boat under the cove to protect it from ice fall, but this also meant that it was partially below the wet ice flow. I was in the boat first and found everything in good shape, but some water had accumulated in the bottom of the boat. Not enough to impact travel, but enough to slosh around and get my boots wet. “Oh how pleasant” I thought. Zach cleaned up, rappelled into the boat and we were off, leaving behind only the v-thread. Although I was anxious to get back to the car, we agreed it would be fun to take up Tyler on his offer and relax for a minute on his boat. Tyler was hanging out at the base of Winter Water Sports, occasionally trolling eastward toward the parking lot to prevent the wind from blowing him too far west. After we boarded we got to benefit from one of these trolling sessions, as we sat chatting with Tyler for about 15 min. Before long, Tyler reached the furthest east point he planned to troll to and let us know this was our stop. We climbed back into the raft and started paddling again. It was 9:59am as we pushed off from Tyler’s boat. We’d been advised about the risk of winds picking up around 2pm, which would have left us plenty of time, but as we paddled towards the car our luck wasn’t so good. Winds were increasing and our forward progress began to slow. As more time went by, the wind increased, we slowed and the cycle began to reinforce itself. It seemed our progress would eventually be stopped if winds continued to increase, so we opted to cross the lake and travel on foot the remainder of the way back. A railroad track runs the north side of the lake. We knew dragging a boat wasn’t going to be easy, but at least we wouldn’t be at risk of being blown further west, away from the parking lot. We arrived at the far side of the lake and pulled the raft onto shore. The boat wasn’t light, but slid along the tracks quickly. Just before the parking lot there is a narrow channel of water separating the railroad tracks from the dock about 55 meters across. We approached the channel and assessed the best place to put in and cross (taking care to stay west of the dam inflow). At this time, Tyler’s boat drove back to the docks, only to quickly turn around and head back up the lake. Tyler’s boat turned again and headed straight toward us. I figured Tyler was going to take the opportunity to bust on us for doing things the hard way before heading back to check on the other climbers. Instead, he conveyed a message that immediately crushed me. Someone had called search and rescue on us. I was in complete disbelief. How did this happen? We’d literally just been hanging out with Tyler on his boat joking a few hours ago and in good spirits and he is the guy that does SAR on the lake. Later we would find out that when SAR called Tyler after we’d departed his boat, he told them he’d just seen us, and if they waited we’d be back to the dock soon. While I am frustrated they didn’t heed Tyler’s recommendation, I understand why. I know SAR is under significant pressure in circumstances where a rescue is potentially needed and choosing not to take action always has some risk that a negative outcome will result. We both have a strong opinion regarding SAR calls. Specifically, we believe SAR should only be used in cases where death is imminent or long lasting bodily injury is otherwise inevitable. I despise an attitude amongst some that seem to believe that SAR is who you call when you get tired, or things get hard. If you don’t have high confidence that you can get back or get down, then you don’t have business pursuing that objective. Upon our return to the base of the climb, if the boat had been destroyed, and we had no other way across the lake, we would have climbed the route again, connected to Seton Retask Road and hiked the 27km back to the car. It wouldn’t be easy or pleasant, but harder things have been accomplished by people who’ve set their minds to them. I don’t see the world of adventure as a theme park where I can hit the big red EMO switch on. And yet here we were, standing in front of a uniformed Canadian police officer, requesting that we get on Tyler’s boat to be escorted across for the remaining distance that I could nearly throw a rock across. We reluctantly complied and soon enough we were back at the car. We talked with the SAR members to understand what had gone wrong so that a similar mistake would not be repeated. We’d thought we were doing things right. We had met with Tyler the night before and discussed communication during the climb. Zach had been communicating with Tyler (the very person who would have been called in a SAR event) during the climb, providing him with updates on our progress and general wellbeing. Zach had an inreach mini that we could have used at any time if a real problem had arisen, which we thought would prevent a loved one from thinking a call like this would be necessary. Zach’s loved one did not know we were communicating with Tyler and was unfamiliar with how to initiate a garmin message. Ultimately because of our slower progress and the coming cold front, a call was put out in the last hours of the trip. This call emphasizes the importance of establishing expectations with loved ones at home about communication before heading out. We both truly regret that SAR was incorrectly called. Besides that unfortunate mistake (and although everything took longer than planned), the trip went quite well, particularly considering the challenges involved. We climbed an unclimbed ice route on a frigid lake from an inflatable raft without a single "close call". Research shows accidents are most likely to occur not when carefully pushing limits, but due to complacency. Feel free to think it's stupid or crazy, but just remember those are subjective concepts that we often manipulate to justify our own actions and condemn the actions of others. Regardless, if you're hankering for a little aquatic adventure (and maybe a little suffering too! lol) Lieutenant Dan’s Aquatic Death Ride will be out there waiting!

OK, the big winners are @Sir Crikalot @bellows and my sister! I will be in touch with details on payment and delivery. Thanks everyone, we've raised significant funds for the site!!

I got back last night from a four-day trip to the yurts (Wallowa Alpine Huts, WAH) in McCully Basin in the Wallowa Mountains in northeast Oregon. There wasn't a TON of information online about the area so I thought I could contribute a tiny bit to what's out there. Here's one useful report from Wildsnow that includes a link to a GPX with some ski runs. Apologies in advance for the weird photo sizing/formatting below. Best I could do without taking hours on it... You might be wondering where this area is. Wikipedia article here for your reading pleasure. I was lucky enough to be invited on the trip with nine other people, knowing only one of them going in. Thank you, @Hoo!!! We were so lucky with snow conditions and weather for this trip. I won't share my entire journal entry about the trip, but here are some highlights: The drive from Seattle to Joseph, Oregon included listening to a very interesting New Yorker podcast about "smoking toad" and then (seriously) almost running out of gas going over the Blue Mountains due to my misjudgment of the distance between towns with gas stations. WHEW. Finally in Joseph, we had dinner at this odd tiny cafe + pet store concept (The Dog Spot) but the food was EXCELLENT. Rotating menu every two weeks; we enjoyed some black mushroom dumplings and dandan noodles... 🤤 Joseph: We got to the house where we were all staying the night before heading into the yurts. After hanging out for awhile, I was poking around the house and I found that there was a door with stairs leading to a garage or basement? I walked down the stairs and... oh, hello, there's a human down here! It was Silas, a young guy working on guide certs, who would be with us for the trip in the next day. Meeting him there was the first surprise of many on this trip. The WAH owner, AKA the yurtmeister, is not known for his communication skills....but I hear he's a fun guy to be around! The next morning, we met the other two guides at a cafe down the street. The lead guide repeated: "It's a FOUR mile skin in! Make sure you bring enough water!" FOUR MILES!?!?!?! 1800' gain! We felt there was a 50/50 chance of us making it to the yurts. My giant backpack weighed 40-45 pounds, including a fifth of whiskey, almost an entire six-pack, about 2.5 pounds of peanut M&Ms, half of a quiche, a couple dozen cookies, a loaf of bread I made, lots of fresh vegetables, my touring pack ...etc etc.. Micah's pack job was beautiful and the bag of Juanita's survived the journey in quite well: We'd learned the day before that we would be getting a snowmobile tow in for about a mile! Packs in a tub behind the snowmachine, in ski mode, it was kind of like waterskiing. I won't name any names, but I don't think it's a coincidence that the two times we had to stop were because someone on split skis fell over... (couldn't help myself). For real, though, @Hooreally showed off his split skiing game this trip; I think his board spent significantly more time in split mode than together on the descents. And so, rising out of the crusty snow up to the consistent soft stuff, we arrived at the yurts (7540'). There were three: a kitchen yurt and two sleeping yurts. The advertised sauna yurt hadn't been constructed in years, it seemed. We were in Eagle Cap Wilderness and the yurts are taken down and put up each year. Yurts had cots, sleeping pads, stocked wood/stoves, the usual ski hut cooking supplies, propane lanterns and stoves, no bleach 🤨. Open creek hole nearby supplied the water; haven't come down with giardia yet. Kitchen/hangout yurt and really awesome lichen that I will try to identify soon: Due to the deep persistent slab problem and high winds everywhere, we kept the skiing pretty darn mellow. We went on two short tours the afternoon of our arrival, finding variable conditions and then better soft stuff; the next day we skied in somewhat stormy conditions all day with great fast snow and refills all day; and days three and four we lucked out with beautiful weather and poked around a little higher. Sunday, day three, we toured over a sandblasted saddle (8590') on the east side of the basin and down into Little Sheep Basin and skied a couple really fun, longer laps on a NW aspect before heading back over to McCully Basin: Monday, everyone else packed up and left right away, but Micah and I decided to check out things to the west: we toured low-angle slopes up to Bear Mountain (9170'), a very broad and wind-scoured rocky summit, and then after a bit of doubt on my part (we had no pons, axes, whippet) and a couple carries through rocks, we were able to pretty easily take the ridge up to the top of Aneroid Mountain (9700'). The views were STUNNING! I hadn't heard the word aneroid before, so I looked it up: adjective - 1. using no liquid 2. relating to or denoting a barometer that measures air pressure by the action of the air in deforming the elastic lid of an evacuated box or chamber. TMYK! We took a short bonus lap on the way down to the yurts and finally Micah said he was feeling a little worked! On the exit back down into civilization, we had a sometimes-exciting downhill skin out and then a fast ski down and out the snowmobile/ski track and icy road. The six hours back to Seattle went without incident. What a fantastic trip! So lucky. Although I don't describe the other yurt-mates here, it was a great time all around, even after the sun went down. Thank you, Micah!

Oh shit, look at that. I won -- a lot. Gotta say, that is not how I expected this to go down. This forum is way too important to let get lost to apathetic disregard, though. Thank you @olyclimber, @JasonG, and everyone who supports this site with moderation, contribution, and representation as an active piece of PNW adventure history. Let the summer scheming commence!

Indeed. @JasonG feel free to earmark if you want this to go to certain efforts or whatever. We will make sure this happens. This whole community is in your debt for this. But at the same time I would also recognized all the other effort you have put forth to keep this place alive: Stepping up to be a moderator. Being a general advocate for the site. Much more than this.... But the biggest one in my book: Creating some of the best content this site has ever seen (consistent and numerous high quality trip reports with professional grade photography) Thank you, you are appreciated.

For those with a high clearance 4WD, you can currently drive to Pole Creek TH in the Sisters (OR) and a 2 hr ski gets you to numerous N facing flows off the E buttress of North Sister.

Denali via the West Buttress, May 14-June 2, 2021 (just now got around to making the TR video). Team 3:1 Advantage (3 person team originally, then 2 person). This was my husband's (Marlin Thorman) and my 50th state highpoint we accomplished together. Itinerary: May 14 - Flew onto Kahiltna Glacier. Trekked from the airstrip to 7800' camp. Starting weight was about 140lb food and fuel per person (prepared for 28 days). May 15 - 7800’ camp to 9900’ camp May 16 - 9900’ Camp to 11k camp May 17 - Rest day in 11k camp May 18 - Cache to 13,500’ May 19 - Rest/weather day May 20 - My husband trekked our 3rd teammate out to the airstrip and back by himself. (Teammate bailed due to inability to tolerate altitude and exertion with having had covid recently.) May 21 - Move from 11k camp to 14k camp (windy/snowy day, but worse weather approaching) May 22 - Establishing camp at 14k May 23 - Camp reinforcement & repair day due to broken tent pole from high winds overnight May 24 - Retrieve cache from 13,500’ and Edge of the World excursion May 25 - Cache to 16,800’ May 26 - Reconstructing the melting camp walls day, dug an underground bathroom May 27 - Weather day (lots of shoveling snow) May 28 - Rest day May 29 - Weather day (snowing & super windy again) May 30 - Move from 14k’ camp to 17k’ camp May 31 - Summit day, pack up 17k’ camp, back to 14k’ camp (bad weather approaching) June 1 - 14k’ camp to 7800’ camp. Tried to push to the airstrip but poor visibility and no broken trail on lower mountain made going slow and precarious with unknown crevasse locations. June 2 - 7800’ camp to airstrip and flew out to Talkeetna. Beautiful day! Trip report video: Detailed video of our snow castle camp at 14k'......

Hit me with $10 more than the current bid for all six of the pieces, to get this party ripping. This is a good cause -- as a long time lurker substantially taking more than I provide on this forum, would hate to see this place swell to the ether for lack of community support. Let's go!

$350 for Sunrise on McMillan $350 for Summer in the Pickets Chris Pohl

Brand new ski-centric version of my 30l. Added a removable hip belt, adjusted the dimensions and added separate sleeves for the shovel handle and probe. The side compression straps can get looped through the lash loops on the back of the pack to accommodate ice axe or diagonal carry options.

Tomorrow (the 14th) is Fred Beckey's 100th birthday. 🎂

First time back to the Snoqualmie environs since 2019. It was a Snoquality day. Great snow on all but direct S. aspects, which were about of 10" of powder on a stout crust.

Fred and I were strip-searched at the Canadian border in 1973 because of some suspicious looking powder he had in his car glove box. That was the first sign that the trip was headed off the rails. After watching Dirtbag, I realized that I wasn’t really a climber. I didn’t have the right to call myself a real climber even though I spent decades trying to be. Fred was a real deal climber. He sacrificed everything for climbing. He had the kind of focus that I could only admire. I saw this guy in Tahoe City a few years ago (after Fred had died). Made me wonder if he really was too tough to croak. “We never grow tired of each other, the mountains and I”, Li Po wrote 12 centuries ago. there will never be another Fred Beckey.

I'm going to work on some stickers to get printed up so you can pimp out your ride (car, bike, skis, whatever) with a CC.com sticker. Just gotta work up a design. Will be giving them out at Pubclubs.

great Pubclub! That was fun. Lots of stories told. I probably talked too much, but I do have a few good ones. @Rad made it by later. Really great to hang out with you folks! Next up in February: The Great Northern Pubclub!!!

I did save the note Fred left on my car once in classic scrawl on a napkin! I was lucky enough to have a couple big adventures with him and even made it up a peak or two (with and without him in tow). Happy Birthday Fred! I hope you found some unclimbed peaks in the next life.

Legend. I got lucky enough to climb with him twice, once at Index up GNS and once at Leavenworth. It took him half an hour to limp up the five minute approach, but once on the rock he cruised a 5.7 like nothing:

He texted me a couple of times. He wanted to go to Squamish to climb, and also was looking for info on the approach to the DC/Cool Glacier route on Glacier Peak. I met him at a Pub Club once somewhere in Ballard I think. I also saw him "in the wild" a couple of other times. One time he was headed up to climb something in the Liberty Bell group and my climbing partner lent Fred his helmet (we were headed out) because Fred had forgotten his. My favorite memories were him at the Bulger Party talking out loud during the presentations (he was hard of hearing and was speaking super loud). Such a legend!

Love this! I'll put $225 on "Image #2. Eldorado from Primus."

I got some nasty stuff from my last 3-way link exchange.

So I'm pivoting on how I'm going to restore the Trip Report Search function. Sorry it is taking so long. I just decided that I'm no longer going to try to get it to work as it was (because the way it was set up was not ideal for several reasons) but instead I'm going to be doing a rewrite so that is better set up for the future and also so that we can enhance it to make it better. I'm having a friend of mine help with that, so some of the money you all have been sending in is going to go to him he is a super valuable resource to me and will be worth every penny...but at the same time he won't charge too much and views the whole thing as a challenge (he is retired). For now you can use Google, and forum member and sponsor (thank you Geoff!!!) @Geoff M documented this handy method of using Google to search our site for whatever it is you're looking for (put this into Google Search: Of course our model is to dump any reliance on big corporate internet companies as much as possible, so TR Search remains the top priority, but we just went to put it together right and have just started down that road.

We did the '57 route back in 1982, so my memory is a little fuzzy. I think we did something non-standard to get out on the rib from the lower bit, up to the triangular snowpatch then out right on some ever so gradually increasingly difficult rock, until the last move onto the heather and I thought, "huh, coulda used a rope back there." That heather was pretty heads up, but we just kept going until the rappel point before we uncoiled the rope. As I recall, there wasn't much gear placement opportunity, and it was the accumulation of constant mild anxiety that was so wearing. That's the kind of terrain where old fashioned stiff mountain boots are really helpful. We rapped down into the couloir, which we climbed on snow, but it was partly melted out and bridged over the rock in various places, so we just kept the rope on. We invented some cockamamie descent straight down the south side, winding up with the most cush forced bivy ever - soft bed of moss and heather surrounded by dry firewood. We did that descent that heads west, over the far shoulder and straight down the steep timber to wind up near the Torment Basin trail; that descent was out of fashion even back then, but all we knew was the Beckey guide. 🙂 I thought it was a really good outing, but once was enough. This direct start looks both wild and ghastly, tip o' the cap to you gents.

I bid $200 on Sunrise of McMillan Spires.

I'm submitting the opening bid on Eldorado and the Pickets. These would look great in my office!

Included a link to some website that I didn't look at. This one may be my favorite.

Jason has not been posting. So something to fill the gap

I snapped my tib/fib falling off a training wall at the UW. and before that had an infection that almost killed me that I got while climbing. these things happened in consecutive years and after the second incident I ended up just focusing on my son and raising him, and my climbing dropped off a cliff. Breaking my leg definitely had a psychological effect on me, and I can't say that I ever really recovered to where I was before that happened...so maybe I'm not the guy to talk to. But now that my son is raised I've been getting back into the hills again (just scrambles and planning a modest easy climb with a ropegun). I'd like to get out cragging again too, but my goals and aspirations are no where near what they were, but I'm ok with that. I just like getting outside and into the alpine and staying as fit as I can.

Cassidy, @aaronohn, and I spent Saturday night at the Mountaineers Lodge. We skiied Saturday in very windy, low vis conditions, looking for the best snow and vis -- Swift Creek delivered OK but was somehow even more uninspiring than usual, TONS of people. Our last lap was a little farther down the ridge and no one else was there or had been there - way better! Wish we'd gone there first... We also enjoyed stomping all the wind lips and baby cornices we could find along the way around Austin Pass! Sorry for weird and inconsistent white balance/colors in these. I still haven't figured out how to best deal with low light and snow colors within the Google Photos editing options... (open to all advice there): Played the GAME OF EARTH Saturday night -- HIGHLY recommend. Created by an earth sciences teacher in the late 90s! Sunday, I sat in the lodge feeling a bit sorry for myself with a swollen foot thing while Aaron and Cassidy skiied the Stoneman couloir!

Fred was always looking ahead for his next adventure. He never wanted to re-hash his past accomplishments. He was a true explorer that did immaculate research and sacrificed the comforts of modern life to advance knowledge of the mountains and live a purpose driven life. I was lucky enough to call Fred a friend and see a side of him that was insightful, always curious about new technology and interested in what was going on in your life. He is still missed.

That is impressive! Thanks for sharing.

Stick it to me!

https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/barron-ghost-town It is along the route that was originally scoped for the North Cascades Highway (up Canyon and Slate Creeks and over Hart's pass). But that way wasn't deemed scenic enough and so it went over WA pass. Fred was definitely upset at the route 20 took and wrote about it. It would have been way cool to climb up there without the highway. And yes, our house has cleaned up a lot since that photo was taken!

I might be a little late but I’ll be there!

There will at least be two of us!

Love it! I love Eastern Oregon...want to do some exploration in the central eastern part on a bike! This looks like an awesome trip! In the realm of "smoking toads", I randomly came across this podcast about a particular (the strongest by far apparently) of magic mushroom...and was surprised to hear that it has it "roots" right here in Seattle and that people used to harvest shrooms out of the Arboretum by the UW 75 pounds at a time.

Found a pair of Evo mountaineering boots on Highway 5 tell me what size they are and we will get them to you

That is the coolest snow fort I have ever seen.

I know I should saved all those voicemails he left me! And I only climbed with him one time! But once he got your number or knew you had info or some connection…..

I voted for MV because I want to support Jason supporting CC 🙃

These are incredible. $300 for Eldorado

Always so cool to see these works of art @kmfoerster!

I ended up with around 200 miles of trail and back country, and around 56,000 ft of elevation gain from a few more than 12 peak scrambles I did with the dog this year! Looking forward to doing more in 2023....I know some of you probably log way more than this, but considering all the other things I was able to do this year (I started cycling a lot in August, I think I put 1800 miles on the bikes). Was a good year!

Did this fix the security certificate issues with the site? I used to never be able to post links to cc on Facebook or even access it directly through the address bar. I've noticed it is fixed now. Either way keep up the good work!

No...no I don't.

A couple of DIY ice axe/tool carry options for packs with just a daisy chain system. A simple loop will work with and ice axe or tool that had a full size hammer or adze. I made some toggles out of aluminum similar to the Arcteryx packs. They'll hold an ice tool head if the hammer or whatever is too small to get captured by just a loop. Any toggle that will fit through the head on the narrow side but is still long enough to sufficiently hold the head will work. Plastic or metal toggles that get used for clothing can be found online. A loop of shock cord and a cord lock is used to hold the shaft of the axe.

Some of my more recent packs. 30l Climbing pack and a 18L packable daypack. Both are made from a dyneema and polyester hybrid fabric. Many awesome fabric options coming out now. Its and exciting time to be a hobby pack maker! Have been messing around with removable hip belt pockets for a bit now too. Maybe I'll post them too.