Big Four Mtn. - North Face Attempt

[none_dup1]

Matt Perkins and I tried the North Face of Big Four on Friday, 3/9. The forecast had called for the freezing level to drop to 3,500 for the 36 hours before we arrived, and we hoped to catch the face in good (cold and firm) shape. We were not expecting an ice climb, but rather a good early-season snow route.

We left the car at 5:40 a.m. and hiked the short trail to the base. The face has seen considerable avalanche activity in recent weeks and we negotiated around the broken blocky snow that fans out around and below the ice caves. The ice caves themselves are partly exposed this winter.

The first tactical decision was whether to make an end-run to the far west end of the lower basin (which Beckey shows as the start to the N.W. Ridge route), or whether to remain more or less on the intended 1942/1947/1973 lines and tackle the headwall straight on. After reaching the top of the snow finger that meets the waterfall on the left of the rock face, we opted to give the face a try. The holds are often down sloping, the rock was wet but not icy, and the snow covering much of the rock was soft and in places quite thin. What fun.

We belayed seven or eight pitches, with tied off scrub cedars, KBs, and cams to 2" for protection. Matt did a great job leading all but the easiest pitch here. The face kept pushing us up and right because the rock was too wet to tackle straight up with mountain boots and our heavy packs and numb hands. We topped out at 1:50 p.m., but not after engaging in considerable death-defying bushwacking and comical tree climbing on the face. Frankly, it was worse than anything I remember on Johannesberg or getting to the Pickets. We decided the rock was about 5.2 at the hardest. Retreat would have been difficult as there are not enough trees on the lower wall for single-rope rappels to the base, and the lower wall has few places for pro as it is highly polished. Suffice it to say, we were relieved to find the top.

Once up the headwall, we hoped for a straightforward 3,000' snow climb. However, we were disappointed to find very soft snow. On most steps we sank to our knees, frequently to our waists, and a few times to our armpits. Finally, after swimming about 800' vertical feet up the 1942 North Rib route (heading for the tower that is marked with an arrow in Fred's book), we found a few hundred feet of avalanche scoured snow, which was much firmer. We followed this to its conclusion, and reached the point where you either continue up the rib proper or move left into the wide gully to the east of the rib. The gully appeared to be much firmer snow, and possibly alpine ice in places. It is a major drainage for snow sliding from above; an O.K. place to be if you are sure the slides have all come down, but a death trap if you guess wrong. To us it looked safe enough.

It was then 4:00 p.m., and the weather was still O.K. (broken clouds with sun breaks). But we were wasted. At least I was. We were wet, tired of laboring under our heavy packs, and wondering if the mountain would ever cut us any slack. The ridiculous thing is we had gained a mere 2,500' all day, and were standing at only 4,000' with 2,100' to go. I felt too tired and shaky to get in the gully (a slip would be hard to stop) and we had only two hours of light remaining. The decision then became whether to spend the night there, or bail.

Matt was game to stay (despite having forgotten his gaitors and having water running in his boots all day and having no bivi sack; he is tough). I was better off in terms of gear, but my head just wasn't in the game any more. Just getting off the mountain was going to be enough work, and I couldn't muster the enthusiasm to spend a cold night in the mist without a tent, then take much of Saturday trying to get to the top then safely down. Matt kindly agreed to head for home, but he would have stayed had I been up for it.

So down we swam, still sinking to our knees or deeper, and headed for the far end of the basin (the "end-run" as we called it). We down climbed as far as we safely could in the dense forest, then made six or seven rappels from small trees in the dark. We made it to the bottom and trudged back to car, arriving at 8:30.

Obviously, conditions were terrible and the weatherman had erred. There was no ice to provide different options for getting up the headwall, and the snow was mush. We could have fought our way to the top on Saturday, but I for one was damn glad to be in a warm dry bed by midnight Friday. Matt did allow as how he'd rather cuddle with his fiance than spoon with me in the snow, and I can't say I blame him.

On reflection, we concluded this route (or anything on the north side of the mountain) should be done either as a fast and light (and long) day climb, or one should take bivi gear, stove, etc. as we did and camp at about 4,000 in the last sizeable trees, then tag the top and descend on day two. If the latter option is chosen, you might skip the headwall unless it is dry. The rock climbing would not be too hard with a full pack if the rock was dry and snow-free, or maybe if it was colder and ice was present next to the waterfall on the left side. But in the conditions we found it, carrying a full pack sucked and we couldn't move fast. The end-run still calls for about 500' of ugly bushwhacking, but no rock climbing to speak of. As evidence of the amount of grovelling we did going up and coming down the mountain, a pile of dirt, brush, and cedar twigs fell on the bathroom floor when I took my skivvies off to shower.

For those of you interested in Bart and Doug's route (the Spindrift Couloir), I suspect it was firm in the upper portion, but soft down low. It's a beautiful line, and I hope our pictures of it come out.

John Sharp

Bellevue

[This message has been edited by MrGoodTime (edited 03-12-2001).]

[mikeadam]

MrGoodTime,

You are definitely my personal hero for the month. My nertz just shrivel looking at that thing...

I'm going to start a new category called "Mr Good Time's adventure series" in your honor.

Mike http://alpinelite.com

[none_dup1]

Thanks, Mike. But this one showed me to be the weak suburban househusband that I really am. But I do want to go back in a month or so.

Mr. Softy