tr0y

i'm hoping this warm up helps to build some ice up there. any beta on the elliot glacier headwall/ravine?

Thank you everyone for the kind words. @JasonG I'm slowly learning that it's the process of picking a climb, aligning w/ partners, training/preparing for it, and then executing the plan is what i enjoy most. the accolade or tick is holding less and less value, while the shared experience and bonds forged with great partners is what i find most rewarding. I'd always heard that from more seasoned climbers but now i believe it wholly. @Bronco so cold but so good! I think i need to replace the stock liner with a better material, possibly some thicker merino liners. @Marlin Thanks dude! My ankles have Murray's soft touch on the belay to thank for that. @olyclimber I've been searching for my limit on ice over this season, and i think i found it. I pray to the blue ice engineers every night and it paid off big time. @Nick Sweeney Id be lying if i said rereading his essays this winter didn't heavily influence the writing here. @wayne thank you for reading and reliving the climb with me, means a lot coming from someone that I look up to. @Alisse Always grateful for safe passage in such wild landscapes. Only some lingering frostnip in a couple toes as payment. I made the mistake of putting in toe warmers at the base and i believe they removed enough volume in my boots to limit circulation. Won't make that mistake again.

ah i see the list got updated. i'll correct it. for this trip i was actually using: bag liner, 40deg Bag, and bivy bag. And i was still a little cold in the legs, i know it dropped below freezing on the summit cause there was frozen condensation in the bivy sack in the morning. i have used this setup + puff pants/belay jacket and been okay to around 15F. without the puff layers this is fine for 25-30F. If i did this again i would take the same setup. it was just enough to be able to sleep and only be slightly shivering in the morning.

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.

if we're all going to run a train on this thing on Saturday, can someone plan to climb it before 9am so there's nice pick holes for me to draft off of?

ah bummer okay. they've already returned to the salt of the earth

The elusive SMC Shallows!! Phil, would you give me the honor to put those to work once again? i don't really need all the angles but i suppose i could just resell them if you don't want to split it up.

Excellent write up, yall crushed it. We were the party a couple pitches behind ya, thank you for not raining any of the loose stuff on us

adding the footage i got from the sunset climb:

Thank you, it was a blast for sure. there was running water all throughout the glacier creek drainage, below the glacier, and up on the kennedy glacier. There were murky pools in the glacier as well as surface streams running down. Don't remember the very upper portion of the glacier below Frostbite ridge having water but there was plenty just below. Yeah go get it while the glacier is still connected!

Trip: Glacier Peak - Frostbite Ridge Trip Date: 08/18/2023 Trip Report: North Face of Dakobed Solo (4th AI2 Steep Snow) I had been eyeing this route all summer and finally the weather and ice conditions lined up for an attempt. The varied terrain felt like a good alpine test piece for me. Day 1: Frostbite Ridge (Kennedy Glacier Approach) Day 2: Descent via Gerdine Ridge Direct/Disappointment Peak Cleaver Started the day at 3:01am from the North Fork Sauk Trailhead weaving through the forest by headlamp. Thoughts of rogue black bears and mountain lions were looming as it tried to keep about a 3mph pace. After about 3 hours and several water stops I made it to the PCT N-S junction. I tried my hardest this time to hydrate the day before and during the approach to be able to save on water consumption at the top and on the descent. The trail then continues on the PCT heading N over a ridge towards portal peak. Eventually descending to a beautiful meadow before being swallowed by the forest. I made it to Fire Creek Pass at 1130am, stopped for lunch and to fill up on water, the taste of a fresh roast beef sandwich while deep in the wilderness was pretty primal. At 12 I left the PCT up the Glacier Creek drainage for some light bushwhacking. Soon I gained the ridge that overlooks the remnants of the Kennedy glacier and saw the bivy site everyone mentions. This would be a good stopping point (about 22 miles in) but i knew a summit bivy would make this climb more special. The climb up the left side of the stream was half ultra loose rocks and dirt and moraine covered remnants of the glacier. Rockfall on the left and seracs on the right. pick your poison here. I followed the rocks on the edge of the ice for what felt like forever until finally putting my crampons on at the foot of the glacier. It looked like a bomb went off here, glacier broken to pieces, rocks everywhere, and somehow the loose rocks even had dirt and smaller rocks on top of them too. Had to zig-zag across the glacier to find connected pieces, moved slowly and deliberately through here. Only had to really step on 2 snow bridges, the rest was connected ice of the glacier. Eventually the glacier joins with Frostbite ridge where I left my crampons on and pretended this was like DC. This “Ridge” is simply a pile of scree, every step felt like walking in ankle deep powder and dislodged tons of debris. Struggled up the ridge, broke a trekking pole, and finally got on the little knife edge under the “rabbits dick”. Every step here raining rocks down both sides of the ridge. Really glad i was the only person out here for this section. Finally got to the feature and took the recommended bypass to the left across the steep snow slopes. This section was quite exposed and the wind blown neve was fun to climb. Finally got to the rabbits ears. The downclimbing here was way less sketchy that i thought it was going to be. Simple scrambling down to the steep snow field traverse, running water here. Motored up the upper Kennedy glacier and traversed around a hole to get to the ridge above. Then the unnamed headwall came into view, glowing in the evening sunshine. Sharing a sunset with the North Face of most remote Cascadian Volcano was special. I was racing the sun at this point, it was beginning to set and I only had about an hour to make it to the top before it was going to be getting dark. The base of the head wall was all exposed ice, all the snow was gone. I climbed the first ice step in the sunset, and on the ledge feature that splits the headwall the sun went down. Almost every stick was a hero swing, maybe 1/10 shattered some surface rot. The ice was steep enough that you couldn't walk up it, definitely at least AI2, but also had lots of features to rest on if you needed. I got some sweet gopro footage of the climb that shows the conditions/difficulty encountered. https://youtu.be/lv3px5eKino?si=-lHOC3Eju77gPPuO Climbed the second step and topped out at 830pm. I crested the snow dome in the back using both my axes as canes and out of breath from racing the sun up the headwall. I was completely worked but the summit was just steps away on a rock formation to the right. I got to sign the register in the last rays of sun for the day. Magical. It was incredibly windy, maybe 40+ mph gusts, and afterwards I retreated to the bivy site and set up my bag in the howling wind with shaking hands. I didn’t end up eating my dehydrated meal because boiling water in this wind was going to virtually impossible with a Jetboil. I settled for a pop tart and fell asleep to the whipping sound of my bivy sack in the wind. Woke up around 1am and it was dead silent, poked my head out of the bag and the vast array of stars greeted me. Just the starlight was bright enough that I didn't need a headlamp to see around me. I slipped in and out of sleep until finally getting up at 630am to pack up. Chatted with a nice guy who made it to the summit for sunrise and got some beta for the scramble. I started the descent at 7am and made it to the car at 4:15ish. Opted for the loose scramble on disappointment peak since the Cool Glacier looked completely shattered and apparently the downclimbing isn’t that bad. I figured if there is an option to avoid soloing a glacier it should be taken. Some super chill people gave me cliff bar at the campsites by the base of the Gerdine Ridge, this was much needed as I just ate my last stinger moments before. If i thought Kennedy Glacier looked like it got carpet bombed, then the south side of the mountain looks like its been through a nuclear blast. The shattered landscape seemed to stretch on forever, but the occasional wildflower was nice to see. Doing this big lollipop loop had such varied terrain which added to the classic feel. It was also interesting/sad to see how much the ice/snow has receded from past trip reports on here. This felt like a blue collar Mt Olympus, a little more rugged but overall similar vibes. Instead of finishing with mellow rock climbing, you finish with mellow ice climbing. Instead of a pristine NP trail to get to the glacier, you have PCT linked to a bushwhack chossfest. Instead of paved NP roads, you have the 10 mile potholed forest service road. No Cascades alpine ascent is truly complete without a margarita and Carne Asada stop at Dos agaves in Darrington. Gear Notes: 2 tools made sense for me since I'm not a super strong ice climber. Unsung hero was the bag of salt and potassium i brought. Packing List: https://lighterpack.com/r/0phmnc Approach Notes: Stats: 36hr51m c2c, 17.5hr car to summit Tracks: https://www.alltrails.com/explore/recording/afternoon-hike-a62344a-60