NorthStr99

You can pop many locks with application of a simple crowbar and/or Z-angle pin stack. Makes getting locked in or out a non-issue unless you get caught in the act. Actually, not to harsh yer lock-poppin' buzz G, but most of those gates are locked with not one, not two, but 4 or 5 locks, and moreover are encased in these little fortified enclosures that Norman Schwartzkopf would have trouble penetrating. As would even John Holmes. but that's a different story. It would be VERY difficult to get on them with a crowbar or any other implements of real destruction (which is exactly why they're in steel enclosures). Forget about cordless angle grinders and crowbars - ain't gonna get 'er done. I just went up both to the end of Saxon Road and to the Blue Mountain Road turn-off from MLR, and both are HEAVILY locked with nearly impregnateable multilocks. I should know; I tried impregnating them, but to no avail. But besides all THAT, even if you COULD get at the locks (nearly impossible) and you COULD break them (highly unlikely), you would just be exacerbating and reinforcing the reason that people PUT the locked gates there in the first place It's just not propah beHAVyuh! Bustin' open locked gates makes everyone who wants to get into those places look guilty, and eventually leads to complete area closures. It only furthers tensions between loggers/miners/land-owners and us rugged outdorss types. HOWEVER, that being said, the PROPER way to bust a lock is to take an aerosol can of compressed air, like you'd clean your computer keyboard with, and holding it upside down, spray the entire thing into the keyhole in the lock. The propellant is usually something like argon or nitrogen or whatever, and liquifies as you spray the can upside down. The liquid gas is extremely cold and will make the metal brittle for a short time before it thaws, and THAT'S when you employ the implements of destruction, ie hammer, crowbar, chisel, etc. NOTE: I AM NOT ADVOCTATING THE VANDALISM OR PRIVATE OR PUBLIC PROPERTY. I'm simply telling you the best way to break a lock. :[]

Thanks G-Spot, very useful report. First time I've heard of anyone being able to drive past the notoriously gated bridge; even if they DID have to go back down and start from there it's still intersting that they could. Wonder if there is anyway to get permission to drive all the way in?

A buddy and I are scrambling the North Twin in a couple weeks and I know there have been some changes on the roads since the last time I was up there a couple years ago. Anyone have any info from recent excursions? Or does anyone know of a different approach than the long slog up the logging roads from the closed Olivine Corp. gate at the Middle Fork of the Nooksack? I'd heard tell of a different way in from Hwy. 9. Let me know - thanks! Sean Northstr99@aol.com

Super-sweet photos, Zo! Very nice indeed. Great job - thanks for the TR! North

Climb: N.Twin-West Ridge Date of Climb: 9/25/2005 Trip Report: So after eyeballing the Twin Sisters for the 7+ years since I moved here, Sunday became the day to tackle my first grind up to the West Ridge (thanks to everyone here for all the approach beta, etc - never had any solid information from anyone firsthand, only vague mentions of "better bring yer bike" and such). I got an abysmally late start out of Ferngully around 1 PM, and proceeded to proceed post-haste to the Middle Fork bridge off of FS38, fully expecting it to be locked per beta. Lo and behold though, what to my wondering eyes did appear when I arrived at what I had assumed to be a locked and inpenetrable gate? Yes indeedy, a Locked and Inpenetrable Gate. "A-HAH!!" I thought slyly though, "I have brought forth my trusty and too-seldom used mountain bike, I shall show this puny locked gate the futilitism of it's lockedness." 5 minutes later as my legs and lungs mutinied and refused to assist in further efforts at pedalling, my smugness left me and I meekly stumped the rest of the way up the mining/logging roads to the top of the clearcut above Dailey Prairie (and just where is this cotton-picking Prairie AT, anyway? Did I miss something??) An aside: I noticed in a few previous posts where people ditched their bikes where they headed off the last "decent" road and went up #9100 - why would you want to slog back down that last mile or mile and a half or so on foot when you could coast it with a modicum of caution? OK, so anyway, a lung-bursting 3+ hours after leaving the car, I gained the log landing at the base of the West Ridge (I really should start giving some thought to being in better condition before intiating these sorts of self-flagellating outings ). At the last hairpin below the landing I bumped into a pair of more time-wise but less vehicle-possessed folks who thoughtfully offered to borrow my bike for a few minutes. I told them that would be cool, just as long as they brought it back when they were done. They sagely declined. I ditched my bike at the log landing and started up through the shrubby ugliness of the old clearcut scar. (NOTE: The old LOG LANDING is the place to leave your bike, NOT farther below. The water bars across the road are a hootenanny on the way back down ol' #9100. Just watch out for the loose rocks and such.) Secondary note - the trail through the clearcut shrubbery is pretty overgrown, so if anyone has a lot of extra angst and energy to burn off, bring your machete with you and hack some of the doghair back from the trail. This would be a perfect way to get over that bad break-up you just went through.) Huckleberries in abundance were available by the handsful along this stretch, and I mean these huge big-as-the-end-of-your-thumb gobstoppers (this would explain the ghoulishly purple grins sported by the would-be bike-borrowers lower down). Juicy, but just so-so on taste. After wheezing my way up through the brush and breaking out into the pleasant remnant of actual forest overlooked by the loggers, it became an actual HIKE, rather than the previous 6 miles of tedious road-slogging. Some really nice climax forest here, with some actual yummy BLUEberries just before breaking out of treeline (not the OK-in-a-pinch-pretty-good-but-less-than-sweet huckleberries earlier). Just past these last bastions of natural anti-oxidant treats, I broke out onto the Ridge proper and got a real good look up at the N. Twin. By this time it was after 5:40, but the trail flattened out along the ridge for a ways and picking my way through the rocks was TONS easier than the thigh-burning purgatory of the past 3 hours. I was pleased to find that the rock was everything I had heard about it - super-sticky and sound, with nary a wobbler as I worked my way farther up the ridge. What a terrific view... I managed to get up to the point where the ridge took a decidely upward turn at around 6:20, and decided that if I really wanted to wind up down-climbing in the dark sans headlamp, I could keep going, but that if I wanted to keep limbs unbroken and skin non-bloodied, now would probably be a good time to stop and soak in the view and munch the landjaegers in my pack along with the peanut-butter granola bars so thoughtfully provided by my dear Cat (her nickname, not my actual cat. I don't have a cat. Why on earth would I want to have a cat for goodness sake?) To the south I could see Mt. Rainier dimly through the haze of the beautiful late afternoon, and to the west I could see out past the SJ's into the Strait. Hey, I could even see my HOUSE in Fernburger from here. Well, I'm sure I could if it wasn't so hazy in the valley, anyway. The Canadian peaks ranged away to the north, and all was well with the world. After my protein and grease rich "lunch" I booked it back down to my bike, eschewing even the ever-tasty blueberries in my desire to NOT impede my much-looked-forward-to 6-mile coast-back on the bike with the pesky darkness usually following sundown. What took me over 3 hours on the way in blurred by in about 20 or 30 minutes on the way back, which would have been less if I hadn't needed to go slow through the gathering gloom in some places which were rife with loose rocks scattered over the trail. I hit the Middle Fork and the parking area about 7:30, 5-1/4 hours after I'd left. Granted, I didn't bag the top, but for a first-timer in worse shape than he'd like to admit and using nothing more than a fistful of printer copies from this website for direction (which was pretty bang on I'd say), I was pretty damned happy with the result. My legs and glutes did not share my elation however, and they seem to be rather sullen about the whole affair even today. I suspect they may make their continued displeasure known tomorrow as well. Pussies. So the lessons of the story here? ONE - Start in the MORNING. As in BEFORE noon. TWO - DEFINITELY take your mountain bike, all the way to the LOG LANDING. THREE - Those nifty rubberized gardeing gloves I heard mention of in another trip report would sure be nicer on your fingers. That nice rough, grippy rock is nice and rough and grippy - good for gription, not so good for dermal longevity on yer little digits. I can't wait to go do it again, following Lessons #1 and #3. Maybe next time I'll wait until next spring/early summer, and take advantage of the famed North Face snowfield descent. Peace out.... PS - did you guys know that the Twin Sisters Range is the largest chunk of dunite/olivine in the United States? Gear Notes: Take your mountain bike. Maybe those nerdy rubberized gardening gloves too, the ones that fit really snug. Approach Notes: Road very good condition, a bit wash-boardy on the way down (fun to open your mouth and go, "OoOoOoOoOoOo.." and "AH-ah-AH-ah-AH-ah-AH-ah" as you cruise over them at kidney-rattling speeds). Also note, the last stream just before you turn off the main mining road onto the smaller road on the right is no longer visibly yellow as reported in a previous TR.