philfort

I have found them useful for belayer/climber communication. Whatever you do, DON'T get a Cherokee FR-460, like I have (they are extremely tiny, so I thought they'd be good for climbing). They break if you let the batteries run really low. Such as might happen when it gets cold. Switch the batteries to new ones, and presto - the radios don't work anymore, and you need to send them in for repair.

update: they were just spotted by a chopper, walking back down. Appears all is ok.

My roommate went to climb Drury Falls yesterday with a more experienced partner. They haven't returned yet. They were supposed to be back last night. Their car is still parked on highway 2. Just wondering if anyone was up there this weekend and knows what the snow conditions were like (avie danger, etc...), or if anyone saw them yesterday. I believe they crossed the river in a rubber raft. thanks, Phil

Wow, people are sure ready to pick a fight! I didn't find Dan's post too offensive - maybe I just didn't read into it like others did. My opinion: I don't really care if the trade routes are all crowded with people who don't know to go anywhere else. That's their problem. Who cares if they lack imagination and creativity in route selection, as long as they're happy. Although I guess it does kind of suck when I want to go climb those trade routes. Oh well. Moreover, I don't think dissing others for this lack of "exploratory/adventure" climbing necessarily implies elitism (and I don't know if he was really dissing them - more like just making an observation?). I certainly don't climb at a high technical level, and yet I've been able to find "exploratory/adventure" climbing. And the list of unknown routes I need to go "check out" keeps growing. I guess it comes back to that other "why do you climb" thread. That thread was kind of enlightening - a lot of people have very different reasons why they climb - very different than mine. And that's fine. I rhyme! Phil

Your exuberance is refreshing. If you want another nice climb in the area, with steeps snow slopes similar to Granite, but much less crowded, I would suggest the ridge west of Mt Defiance (some call it Banana Ridge I think). It has a summit at around 5300ft I think. The summit ridge has some nice exposure, with a north-facing cliff. You can reach it from the Mason Lake trailhead by following the unmarked path that continues straight after the hairpin, a few hundred yds from the trailhead. The path traverses, then eventually zigzags up a ridge, soon emerging from the trees. You can continue up the steep ridge (good in summer), or traverse right into the next basin to some steep (40 degree) open snow slopes. In a good winter, these slopes avalanche enough that the debris comes all the way down to the trail, offering a straight 3000ft shot up to the ridgetop, no bushwhacking. Right now though, this avalanche path isn't even close to being snow-filled, and the slopes above are still quite bare too - maybe by spring there will be enough snow. Here are some pictures from a somewhat misguided attempt to ski the face in dicey (icy) conditions: http://praxis.etla.net/~philfort/scary/scary.html Phil

There is a nice direct line to the summit, which we wanted to take - but it just didn't work out that way unfortunately. It looked like it would be quite technical climbing for the whole 1400ft with the current amount of snow cover. Lots of rock bands. The rock is really crappy. There was water ice bridging the largest rock band, but I bet it's thin. Here's what the face looks like in a good winter: http://praxis.etla.net/~philfort/images/RSP1.JPG There also appears to be a major gully on the right side of the face, with one large rock band. It was this rockband that had a big vertical column of water ice on it (probably a full pitch in length).

dbb and I went to climb the north face of Mount Kent on Saturday the 27th. We figured it would make a decent winter climb, and it probably would - with more snow cover. The only beta we had was from blurb in an AAJ that Dallas Kroke had climbed the "obvious gully" in 1994. We're still not sure exactly what he climbed, since there isn't one most obvious gully on the face (Maybe it's detailed in his winter climbs book? Anyone know?) It took us about 1.5 hours from the trailhead to reach the basin below the face - some bushwhacking, but not too bad with snowcover. The bottom of the face is characterized by steeper terrain - there isn't really an easy way into the interconnecting snow gullies. We climbed two pitches of pretty desperate, kind of scary, vertical tree/rock/snow climbing in a stand of trees, before we were able to gain easier snow gullies. With more snow cover (e.g. a normal winter), gaining the gullies might not be too difficult - right now though, unless you take to the trees like we did, your only other options are about a full pitch of thin, rotten ice. If this ice ever fattened up, there could be some great climbing here! (we did spot one nice piece of ice, about halfway up the right side of the face - a nice fat-looking vertical column). Once in a snow gully, it fortunately turned out to be easy cruising to the summit ridge, in a narrow 35-45 degree couloir. For pro we used mostly slung trees and pickets, with a few pitons and screws. We didn't end up taking the direct line we wanted, because it looked really nasty, and we didn't have the time or cohones. Steep thin snow with lots of cliff bands. But it might be a reasonable proposition with more snow. All in all, took about 10 hours car-to-car: http://praxis.etla.net/~philfort/Kent/Kent.html Phil South Ravenna [This message has been edited by philfort (edited 01-28-2001).]

Oops, I got ripped for $65 by Amazon. Oh well, still worth the price, this is an excellent (and very heavy and comprehensive) book, highly recommended. It's got some American content too, since a lot of American climbers came and pilfered the cool hard routes in the cdn Rockies from the locals ) Great photographs, especially the selection of colour photos at the beginning of the book. [This message has been edited by philfort (edited 01-28-2001).]

I was up there two weeks ago. I hiked up into the basin below Cascade Pass to check out a climb - unfortunately it was a whiteout, so I couldn't see much, but there sure wasn't much snow. Probably less than 2 feet at the summer parking lot (~3600ft). All the talus was exposed - it was pretty sad looking! The only places with enough snow to ski were the patches of slide alder. btw, when I was there, the road was _very_ icy the last mile or two before the gate (there was about 6 inches of snow on the road).

Wow, you're demanding! I was up around Snoqualmie Peak last wknd. Snow was bombproof, no snowshoes needed up to about 5200ft (as high as we went). The NE slab of the Tooth looked bare (rock), so I assume the N. Face of Chair is similar. The road leading to Ingalls Peak is closed to vehicles at '29 Pines' (a campground I assume), according to the ranger station (apparently due to logging operations - snowmobiles and foot traffic ok). I don't know where 29 Pines is along the road. I bet due to lack of snow, that the n slope of Whitehorse is mighty brushy lower down. I would guess that you could drive to the Big Four Ice Caves trailhead. don't know about anything else.

Why is Eldorado (one of?) the only peak in the Cascades with a sharp snow arete on top? Does anyone know what causes that, i.e. why it doesn't just melt off like on every other peak, or why the snow accumulates so thickly right on top? Is it the orientation of the ridge that's just right or something? Is it a remnant piece of ice/snow? Has anyone else given this any thought? Phil

Never tried it, but it sounds like a good idea. Probably a 6pack of Bud is enough, eh? I don't know about Cascade River road... assuming the 'bilers don't illegally enter the park, there aren't very many places for them to go up there, are there? I think the park boundary is still quite some ways from the Cascade Pass trailhead. Or maybe snowmobiles are actually allowed on the road to the trailhead?

This wreckless line of logic was also a joke! Sorry the sarcasm was not obvious. We were well aware of the dangers...

Yeah, it wasn't very good. I seem to recall that last year's showing also had no mountaineering films. And this year had another identical Dominique Perret skiing film - last year the tacky plot twist is that he arrived and departed on a ski plane pontoon. This time - some 'stargate' in the year 3000 or something? What was that about? In between it was all the same footage. The bouldering film was cool, as was the guy riding the unicycle on the edge of The Chief. Phil

Trip report from skiing last weekend on the Coleman: http://praxis.etla.net/~philfort/BakerSki/BakerSki.html

Observation Rock, N. Face - October 22, 2000 This is a nice, short, moderate ice climb on the north slope of Observation Rock, which is above Spray Park. There are also many more short ice faces in the area to climb. It is about a 3-4 hour approach to the base of the face from the Mowich Lake trailhead. The climb is about 4 pitches in length. The first two are about 40 degrees, and then it steepens to around 60 degrees for the final half of the climb (perhaps less steep on the sides of the face) The conditions on October 22 consisted of hard, sometimes brittle, ice topped with fresh snow in many spots (up to 1.5 feet deep at the bottom of the face). Complete trip report at: http://praxis.etla.net/~philfort/ORock/ORock.html

Crater Mountain, East Peak, August 7-8 1999 The actual intended destination for this trip was the East Ridge of Jack Mountain. However, due to a longer than suspected approach, and the presence of thick clouds and lightning, we ended up camping just below the col between the two peaks of Crater. A suggestion was made to go for Jack the next morning if the weather looked good. We awoke at 4:30, but things were still socked in. No go. Phew, it would have meant an epic day! When we finally emerged from our tents later in the morning, anxious to do something, we decided upon the East Peak of Crater. No route was mentioned up this ridge in Beckey... probably because it is a very short climb. Nonetheless, it looked feasible, and the weather was improving, so we sauntered up there. It turned out to be a fairly quick venture, and we were on top within an hour. Just a scramble along a narrow crest, with a short class 4 section. After a few minutes of relaxing on the summit, I noticed a smushed soda can under a rock. Summit register? It was actually two soda cans seemingly attached with duct tape. Someone said pull it open... I pulled, the suprisingly well-designed contraption slid open smoothly, and out popped a tiny notebook. We opened it up to the first page. It said something to the likes of "To thoes [sic] hardy soles [sic] who climb Crater mountain East Peak". The entry was dated 1990. All the rest of the pages were empty. It is hard to believe that someone wouldn't see this thing on the summit... so we may very well have been the first party on top of this peak in nine years! We wrote an entry and placed it back inside the soda can capsule. This peak is definitely not a destination unto itself, however, if you happen to be in the area, it's a nice little jaunt.

The southeast ridge of Fisher Peak, easily visible from highway 20, rises dramatically 1400ft to the summit. The route, rated 5.5 in Beckey, is steep at first, and then rises more gradually to the SE summit. Beyond that, there is a deep notch that must be dealt with before continuing the final few hundred feet to the main summit. Dave and I had been thinking of this ascent for a while - it sounded nice, long and moderate. The route description mentioned the rock was solid on the hard leads. Of course, what that really meant is that the rock was crappy everywhere else (and actually even on the hard leads, as we found out). Doug, Brian, Dave and I, reached the slopes below Fisher Peak about 4 hours after leaving the car. The only beta we had for the route, other than the Beckey description , was from a Boealps team that, after taking 7 or 8 hours from base camp to reach SE summit above the notch, retreated because their rope was not long enough to rap down into it. During their retreat, their rope got chopped by a falling rock, thus necessitating knot passes on every rappel. It took them the remainder of the day, and all through the night into the next morning, in making 19 rappels to get off the route (including leaving their rope on the last rap), and return to the road. We found a marginal sloping camp spot below the south face of the peak. There was running water under the rocks we were on, and Doug and Dave tried digging down to it, but to no avail. Eventually, running water was found on a cliff a few hundred feet above camp, allaying fears our small fuel supply would have to melt snow. The weather was clear as we drifted off to sleep. We awoke the next morning at around 4:30. It was definitely more cloudy, but not overly bad. We suited up and headed over to the base of the climb, finding what we thought were the "poorly defined dihedrals" mentioned in the route description. Doug and Brian headed up first, followed by Dave and I. Dave led the first two simulclimbing pitches on our rope, which were mostly class 3 and 4, with many short mid-5th class sections (up to 5.7), some definitely exceeding my running belay comfort level. The rock was loose, and there were a few close calls. We got used to the low pitched sound of rocks flying by, then crashing into the moutainside. After the first pitch, the clouds started to come down... the weather was looking worse and we talking about retreating, but eventually Doug suggested "Let's head up another pitch, and make a decision then. We'll still have time to back off if it gets worse." At the third pitch, about 800 vertical feet up the ridge, the terrain was lessening in angle, so I took the lead. I was a bit slower, and the gap between our two rope teams quickly grew. I found protection difficult, and so often didn't bother on the 3rd and 4th class, only to find myself suddenly on some exposed 5th class bit. It seemed like every crack moved and was thus useless. I slung every bush I could find. I finally ran out of pro, and Dave took the lead again. At this point, we were socked in, and Doug and Brian seemed long gone. I guess we're not going to make a decision about the weather! Occasionally there was a bit of light drizzle. And then a soft roar off in the distance. Did the weather forecast mention thunder showers? I thought so. We began to feel a little more "committed". Here the ridge crest angle lessened considerably, but it became very narrow, jagged, loose, and very exposed. Care was required in negociating the tottering crest, sometimes just a few inches wide. With the lack of visibility, it was pretty surreal. At one point I came over a tower and saw Dave on the next tower, at the other end of the rope. Between me and him was a good 50ft section of exposed downclimbing and traversing, with no pro! Don't fall here! Shortly thereafter, I heard a loud yelp from Dave. I asked him what happened, but didn't get an answer, or couldn't hear it. Finally, we reached the summit of the south east peak, and Doug and Brian. Just beyond, was the infamous "notch". Doug had just led an exceedingly exposed, downclimb of the narrow ridge crest, to where a rappel could be made into the notch. Across from the very deep cleft, slopes of the main summit could be seen, a towering black mass rising into the fog. It was here I learned that Dave had his pinky smashed by a rock, and it was in great pain. Eventually, deciding it was best that he didn't try and clean the down climb pitch with a potentially broken hand, it was decided that he and I would use Doug and Brian's rope as a fixed line, and Brian would have the unenviable task of cleaning. Wow, it was sketchy. Probably some of the most exposed rock I have ever been on, and it was mighty loose... Even with the relative security of the fixed line, the overwhelming sensation during this 75ft section (That probably took 5-10 minutes to climb down), was that of FEAR. Doug was figuring things out at the rap station. Dave had gone over second with our rope, so he could get the rappel started. Would it reach? The only rap sling here was a bleached white (formerly red) one from 1992. Seeing how this rappel is a mandatory step of the climb (there's no way around), yeah, this route probably isn't climbed very often. Doug headed down first. He yelled up that the rope reached the bottom, he was off rappel, and out of the way of rockfall. A good thing, because the wall we rapped down was composed of hideously loose blocks. I went down next... shortly before the bottom, Doug asked me: "Do you see an old rope off to your right?". I looked over, and sure enough, there was a chewed up, bleached white rope, off in a dirt gully to the right. Interesting. At the bottom, there was an overhang that provided some protection from rockfall. Doug and I stayed there while Brian and Dave cleaned up above and came down (and Dave deposited a Mr. Hankey). Now, getting back out of the notch: "Climb a 25ft wall (class 5), then head right on a shelf slope". Finally, a part of the Beckey description that made sense! It was however, obvious, since it was the only way out of the notch. To our right was a snow gully that steepened as it went down, probably terminating in a cliff. To our left was an extremely narrow crevice, also filled with snow. Very cool-looking, it was only 5 or 10 feet wide, with vertical walls probably at least 100ft high, and it zigzagged down, so we could only see about 100 feet of it. The walls on both sides of the notch were dead vertical and smooth, except for this short broken wall. I made a Mr. Hankey deposit. Now Brian was the only one who hadn't added to the mass of Fisher Peak today. Everyone was a bit sketched, and I don't think anyone really wanted to lead this bit, but Brian eventually started up the intimidating pitch (only rated 5.4 or 5.5 in the two reports in the Beckey guide, but we found it to be harder... 5.8 move near the top): a valiant effort considering he was still shaken up from the ridge downclimb above the notch. He knocked a foothold off. He took pro where ever he could get it, which meant the rope looked like a "connect-the-dots". Dave also wanted to have a crack at leading it (at least, before he watched Brian try it), despite his broken pinky, but we decided for speed that the rest of us would top-rope it. 20 minutes later, Brian was up the short wall, and climbed slightly easier ground to a belay above, and brought the rest of us up. As Dave surmounted the wall and walked along the sloping shelf, all of a sudden he screamed for slack. The rope, being pulled taught by the belayer, was moving a large flake back and forth, right above Dave's head. Yeeeesh! Above this, another half hour of easier simulclimbing brought us to the summit. The last bit had some nice, relatively solid, 3rd class white rock. There was no summit register that we could find. The only signs that people had been on this mountain before us, were the rap slings from 1992, and a bivy spot cleared out on the ridge crest shortly below the summit. Now how to get down? We could not see anything. The informative beta: "Descent: via S. Face. One rappel to gain moderate snow gully". This must be the moderate snow gully we saw from camp. However, it was 400ft below the summit, 1/5 of a mile away along a ridge, and hugely corniced and moated on top. Obviously, there was more to this. There were some gullies descending to the south that looked ok. Doug and Brian walked out along a ridge spur to get a better view. Finally, suprisingly, the clouds lifted, and we could see things. This seemed to be the way, although we could only see bits and pieces of it. After 45 minutes or so on the summit, we headed down. The descent was mostly 3rd and 4th class shallow gullies of loose rock, which we down climbed. Every once in a while, I would hear a shout of pain from behind. Shocking at first, I eventually got used to Dave's pinky pain. "Ooowwwwwwwwww!" ... a pause, then an explanation... "I brushed it against my leg." The snow got closer and closer. Apparently, we were going to intersect the snow gully well below its corniced top. We finally made it down to a block we could rappel off to reach the snow. With all of us perched on loose boulders and stones and dirt, we set up a double rope rappel, which would lead us past a glide cracks in the snow gully. I of course was watching the glide crack on the right as I rappelled past it, keeping my distance, and promptly fell into the glide crack on my left. And of course, the rope got stuck, as it always must. Dave freed it by climbing back up the snow a bit, and pulling from a different angle. It had taken us 3 hours to descend from the summit. As we headed down the snow gully, we passed a narrow snow-filled crack leading mysteriously up the mountain, but curving out of sight. Was it the same as the deep crevice at the notch? Hmm..... We quickly packed up and headed out. The weather had worsened again, and the wind picked up... glad to be off that thing! We found a slightly better way out which included some glissading, and, after some rather high speed bushwhacking with Doug/Energizer Bunny in the lead, we were back at the car two and half hours later, at 8:15pm, 15 hours after having started. The Buffalo Run was closed by the time we passed it, so headed all the way back to Doug's hosue in Everett with only a stop at golden arches. There was a green note on the windshield of my truck. An ad? No. And note from the guy who's house I parked in front of, telling me I should be more considerate and not take up the only spot in front of his house, and that this is not a park and ride! Holy cow! http://praxis.etla.net/~philfort/Fisher/Fisher.html