Bug

Swwwwweeeeeet!

Beenies are aid.

Is there anyone out there with an urge to go up the DC route with my 11 yr old daughter and I? Another kid would be OK of course. I am thinking of a 5 day trip. two to Muir/Ingrham flats, and maybe two to the summit stopping at 12 and digging in. It would also mean a night on the summit and out the last day. Many variations are possible. I need another experienced adult so we can keep each other out of the crevasses.

Good discussion. I definately agree with MattP. I have seen people solo Rainier many times and have friends who do it now and then. I personally choose not to and have summited by a few different routes. I would consider it if my girls were not so young. Adams North Ridge is a little snow and a lttle more choss and a lot of trudging but more exciting and remote than the South Spur. I did it in a day.

Recipe for tick soup. Wear white. Walk on brushy game trails. Add two cups water. Bring to a boil. The spotted ones are females and much more likely to carry Rocky Mtn Spotted feaver. Flick them off if possible. Use tweezers if imbedded. Butter or cooking oil works to get them to back out. Don't expect instant results.

Win, win, loose. Fairweather probably does not like the scenario you are describing. Am I right? Anyway, thanks for the information Matt.

I'm talking about agency policy Matt. I could go on and on about my father's carreer in the Forest Service as Region 1 Director of Recreation or my own 4 years as a wilderness ranger after he retired. But what we wanted or believed was contrary to what the Forset Service did during the Reagan years which is when we were both ex-communicated. The people who forced us out were the ones who took over. Actually, before I left, I rammed a 5 year delay of a Forest Plan that called for oil and Gas drilling in the Badger Two Medicine down the Regional Forester's gullet. 2 weeks later he had to present me with the highest award in inter-Agency Recreation, (the Primitive Skills award), for an unrelated project. We talked amicably but my job was not funded the next year. He became Chief of the FS that year. OK I'm bragging. But I am also making a point. I know of what I speak and it does not indict all who work for the FS. But the FS is an agency under the direct control of the executive branch, George.

OK I used "forest" inappropriately. I like the scenic rivers byways and would like to see grasslands and deserts preserved as well. I am not limiting the debate to PNW. Sorry if I missed that you are. But no, I was not limiting it to timber rapists but they are still a large part of the forest service budget. There are also mining interests as you mentioned, housing developments, and recreational use that is not conducive to wildlife health. Examples would be increased erosion due to mountain biking and or ATVs, Snowmobiles in game wintering ranges (people for that matter), and even horse use in very sensitive areas. I know this is not "popular" but we are on a population boom curve that getting steeper at an alarming rate. If we do not conserve and preserve now, it will probably never happen. The rate of species extinction is higher now than any other time since the dinosaurs died. Granted, most of those are in the tropics but we live here and the effect will broaden its reach. Enlighten me. Maybe it's the way you put it. Maybe I'm being dense. OK so are you saying that anything designated as wilderness cannot have any second growth in it? SPirit of the law vs letter of the law. Again I argue for habitat. I'm from Montana. Vigilante justice was used effectively to curb a rash of robberies in the late 1800's. It was one extreme case that not many people support as a long standing solution to crime. I think this would apply to the Olympic Penninsula example you cite. Well I may be out of touch with FS budgets these days. But I would bet good money that any agency in today's executive branch doesn't give a rip about recreation for you and me.

Nicely done. Thanks!

I am sure Fairweather will come up with examples. He usually has some facts to back up what he says even if we interpret them at different extremes. I am curious to see what areas he is talking about.

Thank you for spreading the love. This feels like the sixties only I have more wrinkles and LSD is illegal.

Because the amount of land that is in wilderness already is a very tiny percentage of the forest and it consists mainly of the rocky ridges and high elevations which does not create a cohesive natural eco-system where diverse form of wildlife can thrive. If they are countering extremist developers who are spending millions of dollars to lobby our law-makers to use our tax dollars to destroy pristine areas that are vital to wildlife, YES. It costs more to maintain roads than trails and motorized travel has a far greater potential for negatively impacting wildlife. Example? Example? Example? When I worked for the Forest Service, the amount of dollars spent on timber harvesting was greater than the amount of money spent on all recreation combined by a factor of over 100. That was 20 years ago and that factor has radically increased. To counter the hundreds of millions of dollars spent annually by developmental extremists to destroy wildlife habitat and limit our access to natural areas.

((seconds of bushwhacking X percent chance of precip) X (absolute Temperature C/weight (lbs) of pack) / (altitude X average gradient of off trail travel) = alpine factor. The closer to 1 you get, the more alpine it is

Are you saying I have man boobs?

Get a room. The numbers game is only as much a game as the players are assholes. If played by those seeking information it is very useful. Another factor I do not hear discussed here is our place in history. If Fred Becky (insert favorite antique climber) was born 15 years ago instead of 80, what level would he be climbing in 2010? Or if Colin had been born in 1920, where would he be at age 2X? I remember when the best shoes available were EB's and Friends had not been invented yet. Any overnight climbing trip involved a 50 lb pack if not more. Point made. Grades are being pushed because we can. Or YOU can as the case may be. There are all kinds of specializations and branches into strange new pursuits the participants call climbing. At some point a climber will emerge who can do it all at the top level of each pursuit. Then the rest will know their place. At least until the next one comes along. That "place" will be good, bad, or indifferent depending on your own motivation. It will define your attitude toward climbing. Perhaps it will define what kind of person you are. Why do any of us climb at all? It's not like we are doing the world any favors. I have never climbed a first ascent with the primary motivation being "to open new vistas for mankind". Every single one was purely selfish. It was what I liked to do. It was where I wanted to be. I,I,I. "I" would rather be climbing right now instead of typing but I have too many other things I have taken responsibility for. Would I be a better person if I were climbing 5.15 and cruising Robson with Colin? I do not think so but I am still jealous of Colin and his generation. All of this is rhetorical. Colin is one of the nicest guys you will ever meet and Fred, well, he is not evil. The "better person" rating is really what seems to be debated here in this thread. Ratings have been used effectively since climbing began as a guild in Chamonix in the 1800's. It is abused by some and restored by others. Who are you? Why do you climb? What is most important to you in life? This seems to be what we are boiling it down to.

Carol grew up on Merrit Island, Florida, elevation 9 feet. She was a beach girl who could spot a tourist from a hundred paces and to this day disdains Speedos. Gators n snakes lived just beyond her back yard and the "Florida room" was a screened in porch. She became an accomplished physical therapist with healing skills well beyond physics and physiology. She smiles easily and her disposition is positive and adventurous. She is of approximately the same vintage as I and so, "has seen things". We remember the first TV on the block, Martin Luther King Jr, Gloria Steinem, friends who died in Viet Nam, Flower Power, acid rain, and Timothy Leary before he dropped back in. We moved into the seventies with a sense that expanding the mind is part of growing up. Some of us came through those times with a sense of wonder that the world can be so huge and so small at the same time. We carry a sense of responsibility to leave it in good shape for our children. We both have two daughters. My brothers and I got together this summer at our parents house. We climbed a little, snorkeled the Big Blackfoot, taught our children how to catch crayfish and eat them and exchanged a few guitar lics. We talked about growing up in Montana chasing elk, climbing peaks, shooting rapids, and hiking in all conditions, generally avoiding trails. We talked about the skills and muscle groups we had aquired by sheer repitition. Where to step in the mountains, wether in logs, brush, grass, snow, slush, ice, sand, mud, talus, scree, or solid rock, is something you have to learn. You don't get it reading a book or having a conversation. Our father is a stout man with an intense approach to everything. He didn't jog. He ran 10 miles a few days a week over hills and mountains until he was in his early fifties. "Backpacking with Dad" is a book in itself. We were lucky. There are times in everyone's life when you wonder if you really deserve what you are getting. Spending time with Carol is like that for me. Our differences are as spice to the similarities we share. Life is good. That is the only grain of salt I will offer here as I feel too old to change my writing style now. Or to make it clear, if you are going to be all sensitive and shit, maybe you should turn off the computer and go watch Oprah now. Carol and I do a little backpacking and hiking together so I knew not to take her climbing with crampons, ice ax, rope, and stuff. I left all that behind after rethinking it from every angle. When I planned our recent five day trip near Mt Daniel I was careful to find routes that seemed reasonable on the map. I even did a recon trip (http://www.cascadeclimbers.com/forum/ubbthreads.php/ubb/showflat/Number/696138/page/3#Post696138) and changed our plans accordingly to avoid some slab and glacier work. Besides, Carol is an adult. She is perfectly capable of making her own decisions and could turn around anytime she wanted to. I planned a very mellow first day of paddling on Tucquala Lake. What could be more mellow than that? I drove us over Snoqualmie pass, through Rosalyn, past Cle Elum Lake and ten miles up a nasty, bumpy, dusty road to Tucquala Meadows where I dropped her off with the kayaks. Then I drove down the lake to a good take out and pedaled my bike back up to her and the kayaks. I had glanced at the map and saw that the entire lake and section of river we were going to float were on the same contour. We pulled our lake kayaks about a hundred yards down to the Cle Elum River from the Tucquala Meadows trailhead. It was a little full so I helped set her foot pegs to paddle white water and listed the obsticles we would want to avoid. Even though we were still on the bridge, I knew something was wrong immediately. She was willing to go but her eyes kept flitting from me to the water rushing under us. So I suggested we pull our kayaks downstream a little ways to make sure there wasn't a log around the bend. The first part was pine needles under a mature canopy and all was well. But as we got further and further into the brush and over a few logs, Carol started complaining about her flip-flops coming off. Since I was wearing flip-flops too, I tried to give her advice on how to keep them on. I even related to her how my flip-flop had been pierced by a stick but she did not appreciate my empathy. Finally, I pulled both kayaks and gave her the paddles but she still fell behind. I whistled a little and yelled now and then so moose and bear would know we were coming but I'm sure they heard us from a hundred yards anyway. Finally, we found a place to put in and paddled about 50 yards when we were forced to portage around another large log jam. This portage took us well into the forest and back through the open brush to get back to the main channel. We waded and yanked and climbed over logs for a ways before Carol expressed her first doubts. I pushed onwards through waist deep water with the waning hope that the main channel would appear before she asked to turn around. When it did, it was still blocked by a small log jam. I waded out to check it out and it was just passable with a little help. Carol got in and I pulled her to the log jam and pushed her boat up and over. She eddied out just below it. I pulled my boat up onto the logs and launched. From there down, it was an incredibly picturesque 2 mile paddle with fish jumping, birds singing, and miriad wildfowers everywhere. The only thing missing was an ice cold six-pack. Carol had forgotten it. But I forgave her. Carol napped through the afternoon heat at the takeout while I sorted through our gear for the evening hike to Sqaw Lake. Our packs were pretty light, especially hers, so I asked if she would be willing to carry the sixpack now. She only looked at me so I almost asked again. But something about her twitching triggered my well developed feminine side. I asked if she would prefer to carry another bottle of Merlot. The long silence was broken by her water bottle inexplicably exploding in her hand. Must have been the heat. Soon we were happily on our way up the trail carelessly chatting about my exploits in the mountains. I think she was beginning to understand how great a climber I used to be. When I arrived at Sqaw Lake I set up the tent immediately to get out of the bugs. Carol arrived swatting furiously at the recent hatch of mosquitoes and hurriedly climbed in. We were hot and sweaty so we went over to the lake to swim. I found underwear, a T-shirt, and campsuds on a rock. Carol would not let me keep the underwear even though they were in perfectly good condition and my exact size. I thought about putting them on over my pants and cavorting around as "Super-Backpacker" to cheer her up but Carol was already cheering herself up by making funny noises under water. I couldn't get her attention. The next morning was warm early and we got going about 10AM. At the pond beyond Spinola Meadows, it was already at least 80 degrees so we stopped for another swim. By the time we were cooled off, the temperature was hitting 90 so we hung out awhile longer. One party of two passed by the pond while we were resting. After a couple Crystal Light slurpies I made from a snowbank, we wandered up to the junction up by Cathedral Rock and started down toward Deep lake. We passed one solo backpacker aborting his Snoqualmie to Stevens trek due to back problems. After him, we saw no one else for the rest of the trip. The switchbacks down to Deep Lake are excruciatingly level but we made good time and found ourselves on the rocky point halfway along the lake. I fished a little ways from camp so they wouldn't be scared off by Carol's frantic waving of arms and caught a couple trout. We fried them up with rice pilaf and a glass of wine. This area is a bird paradise and they sang beautifully. It was nice to have a full sized 2 person MSR tent I bought at the Carl Skoog memmorial sale to hang out in. We caught the mosquitoe hatch near it's peak. The next morning we were up and moving quickly toward Lake Vicente. A short but violent thunderstorm caught us about halfway up. It was a nice diversion from the heat and bugs. When we arrived at the lake it was more like a large pond and I was not sure there would be any fish in it. We went for another swim to cool down and dried off in the sun. Since our skin was cooled off by the frigid water, the bugs left us alone for awhile. I caught a few more fish and they were tasty with Spanish rice and Merlot. I kept looking up at the ridges above us and hatched a plan for the next day. We could hike up to the notch on the SW ridge of the Citadel, drop down the back side and get back up to the ridge top beyond the rock outcropping. From there, we could continue around the basin and drop back in from the other side. The next morning we woke up early and I proposed my little day hike on the ridge circling the lake. Carol was game and we put everything in my pack that we might need for the day. We hiked upwards for about 1/2 hour and reached a point where we could look over the entire Vicente basin. It was beautiful. From there it was a short ways to the snowfield that would take us to the notch. The snow was soft and easy to kick steps into but kept getting steeper. We resorted to the bergschrund as it was shallow and safe. But as we got higher and came around the edge of the schrund, we could see that the snow was steep and the rock was steeper. A sane non-climber would have turned around at this point but Carol kept following me. I found a way out onto a ledge system that was easier but a little more exposed. Carol was clearly nervous and I stayed with her as closely as I could without getting hit by rocks or impailed on a trecking pole. As we topped out on the platue, there was a small herd of goats to greet us. The views of the surrounding countyside were spectacular. The rock outcropping I thought we would be able to traverse around was much more substantial than I expected. I knew I had to find an easier way down. We ate a snack on the platuea. Then we started down. I went back down to the notch and could see that it was just as bad as it was 1/2 hour ago. So I went over to the next notch to the west. It was a little steep to begin with but probably a little easier than some of the parts we had come up and not as exposed. I knew she could get down it but then we would have to get on the snow and make a controlled descent. This part worried me as I had not ever seen Carol do a glissade. I studied the map and proposed a different route altogether. Instead of going around the Vicente basin we could cirumnavigate the Citadel. It looked quite reasonable on the map. I talked Carol into it by running ahead of her with all the food. From the notch it was clearly easy going to the north ridge and from the platue I had seen that it looked reasonable from the east ridge. So all that remained unseen was the north face. The topography looked pretty good and when I got over to the north ridge, everything I could see was pretty mellow. Except for the start. This was where I gave Carol her first lesson on glissading. The slope was about 45 degrees, 150 feet of vertical, and flattened out at the bottom. Perfect! All I had to do was get her started and gravity would do the rest. I sat on the edge and showed her how to hold her trecking poles to control her rate of descent. I dropped over and stopped once to demonstrate and then cut loose. What a ride! After I had picked all the snow out of all my crevasses I looked up to see Carol's head peeping timidly over the edge. We exchanged some advice we each thought the other should be aware of. Carol traversed south toward the Citadel to see if she could find an easier way down. Of course, there wasn't one which is what I kept telling her. So as I was getting into position to get the next photo, she put herself into an adrinaline trance and launched herself over the edge where I had descended. She immediately gained a high rate of speed and continued to accellerate until the slope leveled off. I figured she was a speed junkie as she apparently made no effort to slow herself down. And what a photo! From the bottom of our descent it was an easy walk across snowfields and low angle rock toward the east ridge. At least as far as we could see. Once we got over the first hump in the horizon, it was clear that the snow slope would get really steep again. So I looked up. Sure enough, there was an easy way onto the ridgetop. We scampered up and walked along fairly easy ledges a little ways until we came to a narrow ridge crest with 500 foot drops off either side. Carol got down on her butt and skidded across the 100 foot section and I went ahead to find a way back down to the snow beyond the steep part. But it was not to be. We had to drop directly down to the snow on the north side again. It was not difficult climbing and not horribly exposed so Carol did fine. When we got to the snow, it was steep and I remembered the results of my previous glissading tutoring. So I elected to stay in the bergschrund as far as it would let us go. We went for a couple hudred feet and then got on a narrow ledge. This came to an end over a ten foot drop into the bergschrund. The only option was to climb out onto the snow above a nasty looking fall. I reviewed my options for arresting Carol's potential fall and both left me with only two working limbs to stop two bodies on a 45+ degree slope. Luckily the snow was a little softer than before and I was able to kick a ledge to climb onto and brought Carol out. We then descended down and east kicking very good steps all the way. Finally we were over a clearly safe runout below and I figured it would be better to descend to easier ground than to cross above a couple rock bands. So began Glissading With Trecking Poles 102. I descended a little ways and realized I had lost a basket from my pole. I looked up and did not see it anywhere. Carol was going to pass by the same spot so I asked her to watch for it. She didn't answer audibly. Carol's second glissading experience was just as exhilarating as the first. But I was not in position to get a picture. Anyway, we were now down to lower angle snow and were able to scamper over to the east ridge where I had planned to arrive. We ate lunch and amicably discussed the days events. I assured her it would be easy going from here. After lunch we started down the low angle scree slopes. We started out on slab with a little scree on top. This was a little unnerving for Carol and it took us awhile to get to where the scree was six inches deep on slab. Finally we got back to our tracks and dropped down to camp. We finished off the wine as I fixed dinner. Day five was our last and I did not want it to be boring. We descended the trail we had come up and found the trail to the horse camp in the huge meadow below Deep lake. We waded across the creek, took a short break, and started up through a meadow and into the brush. Amazingly, we found an old trail that climbed up steep switchbacks to the the top of the ridge. If we had stayed on it from there, the rest of the day would have been uneventful. It does not show up on the map but was obviously a well used trail at one time. We went to the pond above Sqaw lake to confirm our location and found it to be a delightful swimming hole. If we would have gone back out the trail, it probably would have dropped us onto the Trail Creek trail. BUt I thought the bushwhacking would be short and we would be on the trail we came up in no time. Unfortunately, there were cliffs, logs, bugs and other northwest delights. We did get down to the trail eventually and wandered back to the van in good time. I had one scrape on my shin and Carol had a rug burn on her forearm from her first glissade. Carol was in over her head. What was a fun hike for me was an extreme adventure for her. I got her into it and would do things differently if I had it to do over. She had every right to be pissed off at me but if she was, she did not show it. There was never a point where I was truely afraid that she would be seriously injured but there were numerous times when she was obviously not comfortable. So I worried about her but remained confident in her calm head and willingness to accept help. She could be a really good climber if she wanted to be. But I am afraid to ask.

Got some. But it tastes funny. Maybe Citadel goats eat too much licken.

My schedule is off and on. PM me if you decide on a time and I will try to make it.

I did it many years ago. Loose rocks abounded. We downclimbed a lot of it including the top part traversing the slabs under the horn. It was airy but set us up for a clear line down.

Good job. I have carried two short 6mm loops for decades but have never used them. Still, they are always there.

Jake, Go up N Trapper cr with ten days of food and trad gear. Take extra rap slings. You will not be dissappointed. Nothing much is documented on paper but there are still a lot of untouched lines up there. You will not know wether you are on one of those or a second ascent unless you find a pin or two from the seventies and eighties. With todays gear it will be a frigin party. When I was up there, friends had just come out. We thought we had died and gone to heaven. N Trapper has the standard N face rt (5.9 crux on slab with a lot of exposure) and there are at least two other lines that have been done on that face. The West face is a scramble that a friend and I free-soloed in 86. A lot like Urlicks Coulior on Stuart. There will not be much ice up there now but early and late climbing can be very nice. The granite is alpine with large sections of high quality. Some of the buttresses on the south side of N Trapper Crk are stellar. Alex Lowe, Marvin McDonald, Mike Kellog, and others have been up there so if you pick an obvious line it will probably be a second ascent. But no one will ever know. Take pics and post a TR.

In polite company we say, "simul-sleeper". Great TR! Thanks.

Right ON!!! Sounds like some great memories in the making. I have done Stuart a few times and descended and traversed all over. The pass east of Sherpa Peak and west of Argonaut is less work than going all the way down into Ingalls and around. It won't help until the next time. Take lots of water from the summit snow field though cause that's the last time you will see it until the snow field on the north side of the notch. Or descend the Urlich's Coulor rt (clean rock)or the NW buttress rt (lots of loose rock).

Boiling snow in most places is not necessary. At least I don't. But I grew up drinking from cesspools all over the west. At Muir and 14K Denali etc, I am very careful to get clean snow and will walk a long ways to do so with a large sack for carrying it in.

Royal Robbins Advanced Rock Craft. Simple yet effective.