Climb: Robinson Mtn-North Couloir
Date of Climb: 6/4/2005
Trip Report:
Last weekend was approaching and the unstable weather and low freezing levels were not budging. Our list of possible targets, primarily alpine rock climbs, was looking like little more than a bunch of places to shiver on dripping rock or bail off via multiple rappels in the rain. After many successful westside-cloud-fleeing adventures over the years, Andy and I knew what was needed: something east of the crest that would offer some technical challenge, but would not be vulnerable to a bit of rain. The North Couloir of Robinson gave us that and more.
Although Robinson is just a few miles from the Hart’s Pass road, the north face is remarkably remote. From our camp about four miles up the Robinson Creek trail, we continued another two at first light. A bit beyond “Porcupine Camp” (and the last visible human tracks until the summit) we struck off-trail for the invigorating 2000’ hump up to the Robinson-Devil’s Mountain saddle, where we got our first decent look at of Robinson.
Impressive north face, but no couloir in sight. Fred’s minimal route description would not have kept me going if I hadn’t seen the fantastic photo of the north exposure in Goldman’s “75 Scrambles in Washington”. But would the couloir have continuous snow, given the winter’s pathetic snowpack? The morning was still young (~8), so we dropped over the ridge and traversed eastward across numerous snowfields, one with glissade tracks made by a bear. Once around the central rock lump, we got our first glimpse of the ribbon of snow shooting up to the summit ridge.
All our questions were answered….or were they? Dang, that thing looked kind of steep in the morning shadows. And how would we get around that cornice at the top? Maybe we should have brought a rope after all. It wasn’t looking all that desperate, just a little more daunting than the warm-up snow climb I was expecting. After all, the crux of Beckey’s three-sentence route description reads: “moderately steep and narrow”. By then it was about 10 and the sun was rapidly coming over the hill, so we humped up the base for a bite and some final inspection. Didn’t look tooooo bad, so we soon strapped on the helmets and crampons, and went for a closer look.
Climbing the fan, we confirmed that the surface sloughs from the previous afternoon had been harmless. But as the snow steepened to 35 degrees, we noticed occasional pebbles whizzing by. What if the sun that was creeping into the couloir started kicking off larger blocks? If things got nasty, we could always down climb for our lives - not a terribly reassuring option from halfway or farther up, but an option nonetheless. Once into the couloir, we saw the couloir would be fairly steep (~40-50 degrees, it turned out), but not desperate. The whizzers were generally tracking down the middle, so we threaded a path along the left side. The growing exposure distracted us from our burning lungs and calves as we punched up the firm neve. Snow conditions were perfect for front-pointing but you could still bust your axe through the crust whenever you wanted a little security. And thankfully, the whizzers tapered off as we approached the top, after about an hour of climbing.
From the top of the couloir, it was a brief scramble to the top then down the standard SE ridge. If the couloir had been climbed since 2003, they weren’t in the register. So, with the serious climbing behind us, all that was left was plenty of talus surfing, a couple more blisters and six more trail miles to camp and the car. The way we did it required a big day (~14 mi. and over 7 k up and down), but the constantly changing terrain kept things interesting. I’m not sure where else you would camp without a carry-over or a longer backtrack.
In retrospect, this was a damn fine couloir climb, surely one of the best in the Pasayten (not much competition, I admit). Or as Andy sums it up: “1400' of mind-enhancing rhythmic front pointing slickness”. The difficulty and commitment (~grade II+) are similar to the North Buttress Couloir on Colchuck but this one has the advantage of not getting hit by early sun. The remoteness gives it a dimension apart from the Enchantments or volcanos. This route will make a great outing for experienced backcountry climbers wanting a moderately technical snow climb that can be done in a couple of days. Or a great backup plan, when the Washington Pass rock climbs are a little damp or chilly. And further proof that not all worthwhile routes are in the Cascades Select books!
Gear Notes:
We had crampons, ice axe and helmet. If this route isn’t too easy to interest you, you might want a rope and a few pickets and possibly a second tool. You might find an occasional cam or pin placement along the sides, but don’t expect much.
