daylward

We (Forrest and a guy named Chris Turchin and I) did Early Morning Spire the weekend after doing Dorado Needle, back in the Summer of Virtue ('97). After knowing the descent off Dorado Needle back down to the McAllister glacier was easy, we wanted to see if a similar descent would apply to Early Morning spire, whose summit is not only northwest of Dorado Needle's, but set away from the main line of the ridge that borders the McAllister. The visibility was not great when we got there, but from the summit of Early Morning we descended slightly in a north-easterly direction (straight toward the McAllister), then ascended a snow bowl that led to the notch in the ridge. We could not see the glacier below us due to the poor visibility, so we were hesitant to rappel into the void. But we began to traverse and ascend ledges (low class 5) back toward Dorado Needle, and soon we reached a point where we were either close enough to the glacier or the visibility had improved to the point where we could see it. It was then an easy 30m rap to the glacier, where we could easily head back to our previous night's bivi site near the Tepeh Towers. I'm trying to think how the terrain was to the climber's right of the snow bowl beyond the summit of Early Morning. Is there a relatively easy ramp that leads to the base of Dorado Needle? I don't think we could see much that day. But I remember the gully we ascended to reach the base of the Dorado Needle route seemed to head up and to the left, so I wouldn't be surprised if it's a piece of cake to get from the summit of Early Morning to the base of the route on Dorado Needle. Neither route is super long, I'm sure a fast party could do them both in a day (after a high bivi) and get all the way back out to the car. Maybe even car to car in a day? That would be a challenege.

Aha, that was you! You look exactly like your avatar image, I should have recognized you in the parking lot. Um, you weren't supposed to hear that capillary training stuff... That's classified. You didn't hear anything else, did you?

I did some serious slacking last week, so as of the time I went to Forrest's party on Friday night I still had no plans or partners for what I really wanted to be another fine weekend in the Cascades... but I knew the chances were high that I'd find what I was looking for at the party. Sure enough, Colin was there, and he was making noises about Redoubt, so I signed up. Saturday morning he picked me up at 8 and we whipped up to the Chilliwack valley (getting some food at Currency Disemboweler on the way), only to find a ranger setting up a road block just past Chilliwack Lake Prov. Park. "Fire danger" she said, as she stapled a notice declaring the same onto the barricade. Plan B - Cascade-Johannesburg Couloir. We drove up to the Cascade Pass parking lot and looked across at Johannesburg. Very thin! The whole middle section was free of any water in its solid state, and plenty in its liquid state. Colin spied a line up the cliff to the right of the deepest part of the couloir... the idea being to get onto the sill glacier and traverse leftward above the lower couloir and link up to the upper couloir. We had no rope and it looked a little sketchy for my liking. Plan C - N face of Buckner. I'd done this before, but Colin hadn't, and I didn't mind doing it again. So we left the car at 4:00 am, carrying our heavy boots (I had my plastics) but wearing lightweight hikers. We got to the moraine camp on Sahale Arm by 6:00, where we switched to boots and ditched our shoes. I expressed concern about snafflehounds eating our shoes, so we decided to erect Colin's ski poles in the rocks and hang our shoes from the straps. We talked to a weird dirty guy in blue who was camping by himself. He asked if we were mountain climbers. He said he saw some people climb "that one" (pointing at Sahale) the previous day. He wanted to give us food. Colin didn't want to carry any more food; he already had too much. I remained silent. The summit of Sahale was brisk, the S. face of Boston was snow-free and choss as usual, the Boston glacier was not as broken up as I had feared, but we did have to do a little interesting route finding. The N. face of Buckner looked a little worse for the wear. Ended up not being too difficult to get past the large bergschrund, and we were surprisingly able to stay on ice the entire way. There was a section in the middle that was really solid water ice, and part that was a frozen slurry of gravel and dirt, which did not provide for good tool placements. When we arrived on the summit there was a guy poking his head over the top asking if the N. Face would be a good ski in the winter. Colin said it had been skied once, a couple years ago... Descent = super scree-o-matic. Less snow than the first time I'd done it in October a few years ago, so only a very small amount of glissading to be had. After much tediousness we regained Sahale Arm and our shoe monument. I was looking forward to getting out of those clunky boots, however, there was one problem: My shoes were gone!!! Colin's were still there hanging from the ski poles, but mine had clearly been untied and taken. They were not new; actually they were starting to get fairly worn out, and they were not the most expensive shoes (I'd only paid $35 for them), but someone apparently liked them anyway. So we ran down the trail (me in my blister-riffic boots) talking to everyone we passed trying to figure out who had them, and in the end I think it was the dirty blue guy that we talked to in the morning. I hope karma gets him back.

Aha, do tell about your day! Is Flight 810 Buttress also called Navigator Wall, or is it to the left of that? Does it go to the summit?

Well, no, but our pack was red, and we both had sorta dark-colored shirts on... Was that you coming up the NE Buttress behind Chris and Jesse?

East Pillar of Slesse Seems that now’s about the time of year when a lot of people start turning their attentions towards Slesse. They’ve had time to get a bit fit and dialed from climbing adventures earlier in the season, and the pocket glacier usually becomes slightly more manageable; that coupled with still-relatively-long days and reliable weather patterns, Slesse is an attractive objective. These are the circumstances that led Marshall to be the first to consider heading up into the DC-4 debris last weekend, and it didn’t take long for him to recruit Forrest and me, followed shortly by the signing-on of Dhillon, and then at the last minute, Tim. Don’t worry if you don’t know all these people. The plan: Marshall, Tim and Dhillon were doing the classic NE Buttress, while Forrest and I were going to take a stab at the E. Pillar. We drove up Friday night with 2 vehicles, had no problems crossing the border, then rallyed up the dirt road on the west side of Slesse to the new large dirt parking lot with piles of slash, and slept. After 4 short hours of sleep and then a quick alpine breakfast of oatmeal and fried eggs, all 5 of us piled into Marshall’s Pathfinder (Gertie) to cruise around to the east side of the mountain. It was just starting to get light as we pulled up and found 3 other cars parked at the trailhead… We all hiked together up past the memorial, to where we split up within several hundred yards of the propeller cairn. Forrest and I continued up to the propeller cairn while the other three began their traverse over to the NE. Buttress. The description of the E. Pillar in Alpine Select is quite good. We began climbing at about 7:30, and the first few moves to gain the ridge crest were a little thought-provoking and vegetated in places, but not enough to prevent us from simul-climbing. We did the entire lower ridge in one long pitch. Forrest realized we’d forgotten a nut-pick… so I tried to place all the nuts such that they would come out with a simple upward yank or something equally effortless. It worked out well. Of course I didn’t test ‘em out by taking a fall, but you know, who has time for that? As we approached the first headwall (where pitch 1 is described in the book), it kept looking more and more like the free-flowing waterfall was flowing freely right over where we thought the route oughta go. Ugh! Forrest made the observation that even during times of the year when that water wasn’t flowing, it’s gotta be pretty manky there, so the route must somehow avoid it. We pressed on, and sure enough that was the case. The first pitch (5.8 per description) was sort of sandy but the rock was solid; I led it as the end of the long simul-climbing pitch. I belayed at a stance where two solid (if slightly rusty) pitons offered easy protection, but I think it was a little below the intended first belay. Forrest took it from there, leading out our full 70m rope to the right of the waterfall, on sustained 5.10 terrain, to a small ledge. I followed, and found the rock to be very edgy and fractured, but generally solid; very different from the rock on the NE. Buttress. I took pitch 3, which continued up past 4 bolts of varying (but never great) trustworthiness; I supplemented them with gear where I could (which wasn’t often). After the 4th bolt, I couldn’t see another up ahead; I had to go either left or right quite a ways, with no pro. I opted left because I could see a right-facing corner system up higher, but it still looked sketchy getting there. I traversed with difficulty about 20 feet left to a point about 15 feet below the corner system, where fortunately I was able to scrape out a little crevice for a green alien and a small nut. After much hemming and hawing, I went for the corner system and found it to be easier than I expected, and thankfully there was a great yellow-alien-sized crack. I finished out the pitch above the corner at a good mossy ledge with 2 bolts and a solid piton, within splashing distance of the waterfall. Forrest followed the pitch without difficulty. Pitch four was the most enjoyable on the route. We were getting used to the rock, and we felt we were making pretty good time considering the difficulty of the climbing, which added to our morale. It was largely face-climbing, which was different for us in an alpine environment, but the protection was reasonably good, and it was nice to have bolts here and there when natural options became thin. Forrest (a.k.a. the “Stemming Machine”) found himself in his element as he ascended what the book describes as a “deep corner system”. The final moves were wild and free, swinging out around the outside of the corner and ascending the arête to a good ledge. From there the ground got easier; we were at the deep depression that housed the snow that was the source of the waterfall. We filled our water bag (neat and uncommon to be able to do that in the middle of a route like this!), and I led a long simul-climbing pitch that wrapped up several of the pitches per description, passing a community of house-building spiders on 5.8 terrain, and then class 4 up some mossy steps. I stretched it out as far as I could, making it to the top of the small pillar that was supposed to be the beginning of the “5.10b serious” pitch (whatever that means…). I was happy that it was Forrest’s turn to lead, in any case! He went up left, then way right, up a wide dirty crack with lots of moss and little protection, then a little easier for a bit before heading straight up a left-leaning crack system with reasonable pro, to a bomber #3 camalot placement before a 15-foot unprotected 5.10 traverse straight right to a small ledge where he made his anchor. Following that traverse was rather unnerving for me, especially with the pack – I was shaking as I pulled the #3 and matched hands and feet on the shallow dimples and thin edges. According to the description, it’s supposed to get easier from there, but I found that to not be the case, at least right away. The first few moves up from the right end of the ledge were very thin and demanding, even a little dynamic, and it didn’t ease off much after that. When it finally did get easier after traversing right onto a large bench and then taking some nice cracks up the left side of a right-facing corner, I began to have major rope drag issues. I had to free the rope from a couple flakes, downclimb and remove protection, and the rope drag was still so great that I finally had to give up and belay. I wasted a lot of time on that pitch. Forrest realized a little more ease on the next pitch, which was more consistent 5.8 or so in a relatively straight line; about 30 feet into it, we passed a pair of bolts that would have been the anchor for my previous pitch if I’d been able to make it that far! Somewhere in there was supposed to have been a 10a red flake move, but I don’t really remember anything like that. Forrest observes: “I think I have it figured out, and the verdict is that we added an extra 5.10 variation… if you look in the McLane book, in the other photo that shows the route, it actually shows a short down zigzag at the top of pitch 10. based on this and the description to traverse right to 4th class, my belief is that the 10b serious pitch was supposed to end on that big down sloping ramp. then, the 4th class pitch went down and around to the right. then the 5.7 pitch went up, basically to where you belayed, which was supposed to be ‘back left directly above the end of the 10b pitch.’ Instead of traversing down and right, we went straight up to the top of the 5.7 pitch (or maybe somewhere in the middle of it.) Finally, I climbed out right on the face, bypassing the entire 5.8 ‘gross chimney’ and the 10a ‘red flake’. does that make sense? I think it resolves all the inconsistencies…” At the next belay, we decided to simul-climb again, and I was able to make it to the summit in one long stretch, starting up a 5.8 corner on the right side of an alcove, reaching the summit ridge crest, and following it a hundred yards or so around gendarmes and through gullies. Actually we made it to the south summit, at the respectable time of about 7:00, which had cairn with an old weathered hatchet and a summit register tube with a glob of illegible wet paper in it. Yuck. When Forrest got there, he just went on by with the gear he had on him and continued to the true summit, where Chris and Jesse had just summated the NE. Buttress. We asked them if they’d seen Marshall, Tim and Dhillon, and they confirmed our suspicion that our boys had already summited and gone down. We teamed up with Chris and Jesse for the descent; it was nice to have two ropes for the rappel. They weren’t sure of where the descent went, and since we’d been there before (albeit 6 years ago), we were able to figure it out and show them the way. One final obstacle awaited us. We were able to blast the entire pounding 5000-foot descent headlampless, and we were prepared to meet our dinner very shortly afterward. We assumed the parking lot was right nearby; 6 years ago, when we did the NE Buttress, we had ditched our bikes alongside perfectly drivable dirt road, only about 200 yards from where the steep trail came down. We were clearly walking on old roadbed, but it was very overgrown with alder, grass, and thistle, and looked nothing like how we had remembered it. We walked for half a mile, to a place where the roadbed went up, and Forrest thought out loud "We must be on the wrong switchback!" We almost second-guessed ourselves and went back, and even considered breaking off down towards the valley floor to find the right road, but finally we decided to just keep heading along the trail (which was obviously traveled recently, based on the bent-over grass), and hope for the best. As we motored on in the twilight, the thought occurred to me that our bike ride in 1996 had been almost 15 miles and I started doing some math with my tired brain... 5 miles on the Chilliwack River Road, 3 miles up the road on the east side, which left 7 miles up this side. And we had only driven 6k... which meant that the parking lot was about 3 miles ahead! How demoralizing. Sure enough, after 45 minutes of what seemed like hours of thrashing through alder-overgrown roadbed, we broke out into the parking lot, where Tim had a fire raging and spaghetti on the stove. It sure was nice to be able to eat and sleep there and not have to worry about driving home that night! Chris and Jesse showed up about 45 minutes later, looking forward to a long bike ride around to get Chris' car, but Marshall (who had already been back with Dhillon to retrieve his) dashed their forward-looking by offering them his car to do the shuttle. And Dhillon drove straight to Squamish to see Jenna. And then we drank beer. Dan

No evidence of bears or any other mammals, even snafflehounds! No, wait... I did see a goat track in the snow. But not its creator. Huh, stuck rope in the gully? We did not see it, and we pretty much explored every crevice of the gully... Dan

Valid questions. Of course I have no direct evidence that it is an ideal descent, because I didn't do it. However, looking at it from below, it is clear that it's a more direct route that would likely have fewer and cleaner rappells than the gully, and it would reach the glacier not far from where at least 3 routes up the mountain begin (facilitating leaving gear such as boots & packs at the base, which is a huge plus in my book). Also, I haven't heard anything that indicates to me that the south face descent is bad in the comments of those who have been on it. And also, I do know from first hand experience that the gully descent is very unpleasant; in my reckoning, it's unlikely that the south face descent could possibly be less pleasant. So I think that paints a pretty good case. Perhaps I should have tried not to sound so authoritarian in my original post... is that what bothers you? I think there is value in having only one established descent off a mountain and it should be the best descent (though that rarely happens), rather than having slings spread all over the place. I think that with this web site, for the first time, we actually have the ability to reach a large portion of the climbing community through technology, and using that to decrease impact and increase safety by giving specific information based on experience is not a bad thing. Maybe that goes against some peoples' ideas of solitude and self-sufficiency in the mountains, but we have to face the fact that more people are going there and if everyone does as they please, everyone will suffer. Ok, that's getting a little soapboxy. I'll stop now.

Mark Kroese, Sean Courage and I went in to the southern Pickets on Friday and did the East Ridge of Inspiration and McMillan on Saturday. We intended to do the S. Face of Inspiration on Sunday, but right about decision-making time (5:00 am) the sky was afflicted by a brief bout of clouds, wind and sprinkles, which convinced us to retreat to what turned out to be a sunny coastal plain. Although we agreed amongst ourselves that y'all can figure out the details of the routes yourselves (the description of the E. ridge in Nelson is more than adequate), there are a couple important things we'd like to share: 1) On the approach, though we did not encounter the route-finding difficulties at ~4300' described by Nelson (the trail seems much more established now), we were lured off-route into virgin heather later on. To preserve this delicate ecosystem, please follow these instructions: When you exit the trees at ~5000', the trail trends to the climbers left, and then crosses one obvious boulder-filled creek, followed in several hundred yards by another. At this SECOND creek, DO NOT CROSS IT THERE, but rather go UP the creek a hundred yards or so. As you ascend the creekbed you will see cairns and trail remnants here and there, and soon the trail exits the creekbed on the left, and you're on your way. 2) The descent off Inspiration - We followed what appeared to be the path of least resistance, rappelling (single 60m rope) 4 times down the west ridge, then downclimbing into the Inspiration-Pyramid gully and rappelling 4 more times. The Inspiration-Pyramid gully has plenty of rap stations, but it sucks and is dangerous. It was wet, had lots of loose rock, and we're lucky we didn't chop our rope. There is lots of crappy webbing that should be removed too. The ideal descent should be down the west side of the S. face. Do the first 4 rapps down the W. ridge, then downclimb the ridge overlooking the S. face, until you reach another rapp station right on the ridge from which you can descend the S. face. Others have indicated that there is some webbing along the W. ridge ascent route, but I do not know how established the stations are down the S. face below the station on the ridge. My point is, they should become established, because that's the safest and most direct line down the mountain. So if you go up there bring some webbing & rapp rings, and go down the S. face. Either that or go down the Inspiration-Pyramid gully and yank some of the crappy old webbing, if you feel like subjecting yourself to unplesantness... after all, alpine climbing is about suffering, right? One other note - The glacier below Inspiration is getting pretty broken up; in a couple weeks it may be very difficult to reach the base of any of the routes on the mountain. We went over some sorta sketchy snow bridges on the approach and had to jump a 5-foot crevasse on the descent! Dan

That's a beauty of a picture you got there, but I don't believe it was taken from the McAllister Glacier, I'd say more like near the West Ridge of Eldorado, on the Marble Creek side? I was under the impression that the "standard route" went up the other side of the peak; mostly snow with just a pitch or two of low-5th rock at the top (depending on time of year), as is pictured in Selected Climbs vol. 2 (which is also the standard descent route). However, I'd have to say the routes on the Marble Creek side of the peak are much better and if you're going to hike all the way in there you may as well do something worthwhile. The route I did does not match up with anything in Nelson or Beckey; we got on the rock partway up the couloir on the left, about where the little point of snow shows in your picture. Our route followed ridges upward and crossed some gullys rightward, maximum difficulty 5.7, taking us to the summit in about 6 pitches. The rock was mostly very good. I think you could find a good route just about anywhere you wanted on that face, so as long as you head generally upward I think you will find yourself soon on the summit without significant routefinding difficulties. If you remove the taped holds, you will increase the difficulty of future ascents, but you will also increase the difficulty of your own ascent much more, because there are a whole lot of taped holds! Yes, the beta for "car to car in a day" is different; the main difference being that you should not burden yourself with overnight gear. Also, you should be at least as fit as a very very very fit person. Possible itinerary: Leave Eldorado Cr. by 3:00 am, get to the Inspiration glacier by 7 or 8, cross to the Klawatti over the shoulder of Eldorado and to the McAllister and then down through the Dorado Needle/Eldorado col and across to the base of the route by 11 or noon, simul-climb the route within 2 hours, descend with one rappel down the other side back to the McAllister, hike back up to the Klawatti, and reverse your approach, making it back to the car by 8:00 or 9:00 pm. Has anyone here done Dorado Needle car-to-car in a day? How about Early Morning Spire? Dan

Oh my, that brings up many more questions that you must answer before my beta can be of any value to you: 1) Do you realize your hairnet will get tangled in your hobnails? What steps are you going to take to prevent that? 2) Do you want to do it car-to-car in a day? 3) Could you stand on the upper McAllister glacier and point toward where you think Dorado Needle is and be confident you're pointing to the correct peak? Anyway, to prevent this from drawing out any longer than it absolutely has to, I'll assume you've found a solution to question number 1). If your answer to question 2) is anything other than "absolutely", make sure you bring overnight gear. If your answer to 3) is anything other than "absolutely", make sure you take the proper measures to enhance your knowledge of the terrain, then ask yourself question 3) again. Repeat as many times as necessary. Once this is done, you should go straight away before the terrain changes. Attain your previous position on the McAllister glacier in roughly the same way you did before. When it comes time to camp, I recommend doing so at the col between the Inspiration and McAllister glaciers (near the Tepeh Towers). Make sure you don't fall into crevasses, and that you know how to get yourself out of crevasses if you accidentally do. Once you have attained your position on the McAllister glacier, point at Dorado Needle and begin walking towards it, following the easiest possible path (which should be obvious to you, considering how enhanced your knowledge of the terrain should be by this time). When you reach the rock, begin climbing up it, making sure you limit yourself to the taped holds, and liberally applying chalk to all damp areas you encounter. Soon you will be on the summit, which should be a condition that satisfies your stated goal. Any questions?

The holds are already taped, and you'll need about 13 lbs. of chalk; there are a couple of drippy sections right now.

I have beta for you, how badly do you want it? Tell me what your plan is... and have you been into that area before (McAllister glacier)? Dan

Oh yea, you don't want to go all the way to Asgard to descend. You can see the descent route in the picture, and it's not as steep as it looks. It's just sort of 45-degree scree when there's no snow; not bad at all. It brings you right around to near the base of the route on the immediate skier's left of the face. You can leave crap (water, clothes, booze, ) just before you get on the climb & pick it up on your way back down. -Dan

So I'm wondering if anyone has been up the W face of Colchuck Balanced Rock recently. Is there snow on the route or on the top that seeps all over the route? When I did it before, late in the season, there was some seeping in the crack just below the big roof - is this seeping much worse early in the season, or is it from some deeper source that remains relatively constant all year? Does anyone have any opinions-strongly-influenced-by-knowledge as to whether it would be in good shape this weekend (assuming the forecast for sun all week is correct)? Looking at the route from Dragontail several weeks ago (during a much more wintery weather pattern), CBR actually looked pretty snow free and dry... I'm thinking that's a good sign. Thanks!

Tim Matsui and I did the route on Saturday, and it sounds like a very similar experience to what you had. We left the car at 3:00 am, passed one pair at Colchuck Lake who were just breaking their bivi, hit the base of the route by 5:15 and were on the summit by 10:30 am. After a quick butt-slide down Asgard, we saw that a third party had made tracks up to the route from the lake, that place is getting downright crowded! On our way out we passed what must have been about 30 people coming up, one of them said they were on a WSU alpine club outing. They didn't look like they were planning to do anything technical though. We drove out at 1:30 and had a HeidelBurger, then met our girlfriends who were climbing at Castle Rock and did a couple pitches there. A fine day in the hills I must say!

Just a guess... Is it Forrest Murphy and Doug Ingersoll? They did put up a 12a on the N face of SEWS sometime about then. Don't know for certain that they called it Pangaea, but it sure would make sense, since they both worked at Feathered Friends at the time, which had just recently branded its clothing line "Pangaea"... Forrest? Were you wearing burgundy fleece??? My god!

Forgive me for not spending the necessary time to research, but did you climb it in '85 with Twight et al? Otherwise I didn't know it had seen another ascent... In any case, fantastic job to all! The conditions for Forrest and me were much less scary than this sounds. Our problems had more to do with too much deep snow. It took us a painfully long time to slog our way up to our high camp near the base of the first pillar, and we found very little in the way of rock pro (and most of that required lots of excavation). Spindrift and unconsolodated flutings were a constant. The ice on the pillars was for the most part solid for us.

I can certainly understand why people might want to take a long time to do a traverse like this, but going fast has other advantages, even beyond merely not having time in your life schedule to do a more-than-two-day trip. For example, the feeling of covering a lot of ground quickly, not being burdened by heavy gear, even the fact that you're taking a bigger risk by being out there without backup or equipment to stay a long time to ride out a storm or whatever. I don't buy the idea that when you move fast you don't see anything. In a landscape that big, even if you're at a dead sprint the views don't move by so quickly that you can't see them. Sure, there are a few things you miss, but there are more things you miss by walking instead of crawling & examining everything with a microscope. And in many cases, if you move quickly you can actually see more, because it can allow you to go places you wouldn't have time to go if you were moving slowly. There is as much virtue in speed as there is in any other approach; its just a matter of what's important to you.

There may have been a small boulder, the biggest presence in the area was certainly that monstrous cornice that we wriggled under just before topping out. There was nothing that said to me "place #1 camalot here", because I would have done that to back up my anchor (even though that tree was going nowhere). There were some exposed rocks back from the ridge where the wind had scoured off the snow, but I don't think any of them were that big. It kinda makes me want to go back there & take another look...

Not to re-open any cans of worms, just to clarify: I don't recall seeing a boulder with a #1 camalot placement when I topped out, but there was much snow that could have been covering said boulder. The anchor I used was my cordalette wrapped around the very large & horizontal trunk of a very wind-affected but otherwise healthy-looking tree, about 20 feet back from the ridge.

It took us about 8 hours on route, 14 hours car to car (we had a slight episode of misdirection on the approach). Forrest said they took around 6 hours on route. Forrest likes to think that's because he's a faster and more efficient winter alpinist. I like to think it's because he had our tracks to follow! There was not much ice on the route, but there was by no means none. There was enough to hold lots of the loose rock together, and enough to make an attempt to climb it without ice tools & crampons much too difficult & even foolish. Ice tools turn frozen lumps of moss & heather into great handholds! Climbing it in these conditions is much different than the thwack-thwack chunk-chunk it would be if it were totally iced up, but it is still a very good time. It really makes you think... you have to decide each step of the way if it's better to use a tool placement in ice or dirt or moss, or to hook your tool on a rock or cam it in a crack, or simply let your tool dangle from your arm & use your hand. It takes a while to become efficient at this kind of climbing (which I admit I'm not!)

I'm pretty sure Forrest said he went with Ade... He'll be in at work shortly to clarify.

To answer Lambone's question regarding gear: We brought a single set of cams ranging from green alien to #3 camalot, a set of nuts, about 5 stubby pins, and 5 ice screws. That turned out to be about right in terms of the cams & nuts, and we pounded in a couple of the pins during the climb, but nowhere was the ice thick enough to put in a screw (except possibly in some contrived and unnecessary location). In general, the route was fairly easy to protect. No excessive runouts.

Ah, I think you're right, the "up and left on dry rock" was where I skipped the offwidth, and thereby missed the tree belay. I did wander around to the right to check out the options, and I saw a sort of shallow-dihedral-corner with a fairly wide (but I don't know if I'd say offwidth) crack. I didn't look closely enough to see if there was a fixed pin, but I could imagine the first couple moves requiring a little aid (or rock shoes, if you happen to have them along... ;-). A quick assessment convinced me that going up and left would be a little easier, and it turned out to be about 5.6, and led to a ramp with more good mixed climbing. So I'd say that was a nice variation for that pitch in that it needed no aid. Also, it seems our detour to the sub-peak allowed us to get to the west ridge with only downclimbing and snowfield-traversing instead of rapping, so that turned out nice as well. Cool, now it maks more sense, thanks Colin! :-) Oh yes, and Tim did take quite a few pictures, but of course he used film so he'll have to get them developed & scanned.