[TR] Clever Peak- NE Gully (Spago Gully) 5/7/2005

[klenke]

Climb: Clever Peak-NE Gully (Spago Gully)

 

Date of Climb: 5/7/2005

 

Trip Report:

As per John Roper's continuing educational requirements, I've been tasked with writing into this report at least three sesquipeds {that's one}. Well, here goes...

 

Chapter 1 -- The Quarry Revealed

On Saturday, May 7, 2005 a number of us set out to storm the last (or nearly the last) Washington North Cascades peak still holding out against humanity's onslaught. By "peak" I am talking about a summit with greater than 400 feet of prominence. There are still summits in the North Cascades with less than 400P that have not been climbed. It pays to be a peakbagger with knowledgable peakbagger friends. For over a year John, Stefan Feller, and myself had been scheming to climb Pk 5808 (408P) behind Johannesburg Mountain. To our knowledge, no one had been up it.

 

The peak is located on the spaghetti-contoured divide between Cleve Creek and the South Fork Cascade River approximately 2 miles south of Johannesburg Mountain and 2 miles WNW of Mt. Formidable. In fact, the summit resides on the long outlier ridge of Formidable. John came up with the name "Clever Peak" due to its proximity to Cleve Creek. The additional humor is that Clever is indeed clever. For many years it had hid itself in the craggy recesses of the Cascade Pass Quad. John says he's known about it for years but Jeff Howbert discovered the clever hermit and posted his discovery on his website ("Cascade Pass Quad 3" on this page). Pictures of the mountain--direct or indirect--were hard to come by. Over the years I had managed just one shot of it (from the area of The Triad) and it was not a very good one. I had scoured many a Ptarmigan Traverse trip report online in search of the elusive hermit. My scouring added up to nothing more than blunted brillo pads and squandered time. However, one day in the summer of 2004, Michael Stanton, in his Johannesburg report, provided an innocent photo wherein Clever was caught napping in the background. Of course, they didn't know it was back there. But I immediately recognized our quarry. Here is the picture in question (can you spot that clever peak?).

 

Then came along a winged angel and his photos from the firmament {that's two}. What's the angel's name? John Scurlock, of course. Under the veil of secrecy, John made clandestine flights over the hermit and snapped photos of it from nearly every angle. (These photos were purposely left off of his website.) Our quarry was being spun into limp semolina loops by a little yellow airplane. It was only a matter of time. We were waiting for acceptable weather and a realizable schedule.

 

Chapter 2 -- Conscripting the Soldiers

Stefan Feller had other plans and John and I could wait for him no longer. So it was down to just two of us. But as is so often the case, we both had been talking to friends about "getting out." Soon we were up to a party of seven (Roper, myself, Martin Shetter, Mark Iffrig, Mitch Blanton, John Scurlock, and Jerry Huddle). Too many soldiers could threaten to blow our cover. But seven it was.

 

With two cars we arrived at the the major switchback on Cascade River Road (1,700 ft). While we were milling about waiting for who knows what, Roper pulled out some of Scurlock's Clever pictures. Jerry and Mitch reviewed the photos in tandem with the map and soon realized Roper had left out quite a few details on the commiting nature of the climb. So right away two conscripts were thinking about going AWOL.

 

Chapter 3 -- Marching to the Front

We soldiers were arranged two-by-two (+ one) for the 3+ mile march to the front at 7:40AM. In the interest of time we redoubled our speed. The first mile or so of the gated road could be walked without much trouble. There were only a few blowdowns. I had been interested to see the extent of the devestation from the fire that had occured in there in 2003 (the Mineral Creek Fire). Well, the road was okay. But after the road transforms to a trail there were a few places on the steep sidehill where ambling bordered on scrambling.

 

In about an hour we got to the trail junction where the Middle Fork Trail cuts left. From that junction we still had 1.5 miles or so to go to get to where we'd be leaving it to make for our summit. Initially, the trail looked good. But soon it became obscured. The fire had burned in earnest through here, thus felling many a tree husk into our path. Furthermore, fireweed was teeming and deadening our sightlines. The first three-quarters-of-a-mile were the worst. After that, the trail improved enough to be followed (but windfall was still a problem). If no restoration takes place this trail will be completely gone in 10 years.

 

At just about 10:00 am we arrived at our trail jump-off point (note that the trail is closer to the river than shown on the map). While the others caught up, Jerry and I visited the river bank where we could suss out our location. With the help of map and photo I could see exactly where we were and where we needed to go:

 

We crossed the river and hiked up a steep forest cone to 3,500 ft where the creek makes a hard left turn coming out of the gully that we had not yet seen from below. Scurlock's photos implied a problematic steepness. But would that really be the case? Often, things are not as steep in person as they appear from a distance--especially from a plane.

 

The brush to the left of the forest cone was formidable but the underforest was mostly open. The slope above the brush but below the rock walls was mostly open grass. Once we got sufficiently high we could veer left into this grass to get a great head-on shot up the gully:

 

Chapter 4 -- Let the Gully Times Roll

To our benefit, the gully was at a lower angle than we'd imagined and it was not formed of too much (if any) technical terrain. Moreover, the top half looked like nothing more than a snow finger slog. Martin and I went ahead to check out a constriction with a large leaning block halfway up between the lower cut of the gully stream and the upper snow finger. If there was going to be any technical climbing in the gully it would be there (or at the top exit of the gully which we couldn't quite see).

 

As we neared the constriction it got increasingly steeper in aspect. What appeared as ledgy, blocky scrambling from the mouth of the gully was rapidly worsening to an impeding step. The constriction was comprised of a deep crease on the right with dripping water in the alcove of the leaning block and a Class 4 haphazard and unprotectable wall on the left that was reminiscent of the initial rock scramble at the base of the West Face of Guye Peak:

 

We were able to find a thin "ramp" to free climb up the wall from the crease. This got us to an intermediate ledge and the crux of the constriction. It was time to get the rope out, for the crux was wet, loose, and uncertain. It was merely a narrow (15-ft wide) step no more than 20 feet high on the left side of the large leaning block. Just looking at it it seemed like it wouldn't be a problem but the safety of protection would be a pyschological boost--especially considering a fall from the step could result in an extended fall of 30 more feet into the crease. I set an anchor and Martin made an initial sortie but his spear was immediately blunted. I had a finely forged sword so took over point. Martin's mistake was that he tried to go up the right side of the step between an overhanging block and the slabby face of the big leaning block. His thrust was efficiently parried. My improvement was to take the left side. The left side had good foot holds and a suitable undercling in a recess but the ground was dirty, mossy, and wet. If it had been dry it would have been a lot easier. The crux move was the exit (for me, sort of a long sideways step to the right with left hip pressing against the rock). I rated the move Class 5.4 in the conditions we found it. If it had been dry it would have been 5.2.

The crux:

 

Once above that I set up an anchor just as soon as I could find one (not that easy to come by). The gully floor was all loose rubble, mud, and snow. The sidewalls sloped steeply to nothing. I found a crack nearly a full rope length beyond the crux lip past lots of choss just waiting its turn to slide or roll off and subsequently rain down onto the followers below.

 

Time passed and eventually four of the seven decided to call it quits below the constriction (thankfully, we had brought two cars). Only Mark and Martin would be joining me. This was probably for the better since we didn't know what else lay ahead. If the climbing was going to be highly technical we would want no more than three or four.

 

We plodded up the snow finger, which we happily discovered was soft enough not to need crampons. We noted that, without the snow, the gully would be all choss and mud and not much fun at all--especially considering what we ran into at the top. The snow came to an untimely end just before the top and replaced easy boot steps with cruddy mud followed by sluffy duff. What's so hard about that? Ordinarily nothing, but in this case it was pitched up at 40 degrees and was very slippery. With much scratching and clawing and green twig belaying, we hauled ourselves up to the notch (c. 4,700 ft).

The upper gully:

 

It should be noted that Notso Clever (Pt. 5080+ north of Clever) cannot be climbed from the notch (at least not without high-5th climbing). It should also be noted that its summit is not craggy but flat.

 

Chapter 5 -- The Sylvan Sliver {sylvan: that's three; any others you find are a bonus}

From the notch it was hard to see what lay ahead. Tall trees obscured any rock that might rise up against us. We walked into the steepening slope next to the notch and could then see under the limbs. It looked like nothing more than steep forest--Class 4 forest, if you will.

 

With a running belay and trees slung as necessary we climbed efficiently and quickly up through the timber. There were a few sketchy open stretches on slippery duff where pencil-thin roots offered the only green belays. But for the most part it was easy. The worst of it was where the forest slope formed into a sliver of a gully. Later, we diagonalled up and right sometimes across and up snow patches to gain the lower-angle west-facing rib of the minor gendarme just north of the true summit. Once on that rib the terrain became more sub-alpine. We turned left and ascended the rib almost to the gendarme, which we avoided at its base to gain the last notch.

 

Chapter 6 -- Storming the Dome

From Scurlock's photos, this notch looked like it might be a problem but it wound up offering no defense. At worst, climbing past it was Class 3. There were rocks to step up through but the vegetation was dense so falling was not going to happen.

The terrain around the upper notch:

 

The uppermost slopes were still buried in snow but the aspect had rolled over so much we didn't need a rope. We left the rope in a patch of heather and trudged up the final 100 yards. We came upon old tracks in the snow. Stepping into them, we noted the gait was the same as a human's. No way! They couldn't be! Following them, we were relieved they didn't go to the open top but sagged away into the trees on the west. If they were manmade, they would have surely gone to the very top. (Martin would later see hints of goat hoof marks within the tracks.)

 

We made the summit, a dome of snow with trees blocking the westward view, at 2:50PM (just over 7 hours from the car). No evidence of prior visitation but then there was three feet of snow up there. We couldn't even build a cairn.

Here are Martin, Mark, and Paul on the summit (Johannesburg in clouds; Triplets on the right):

 

Most of the high peaks were obscured by clouds (Formidable, Mix-up, Johannesburg, Bruseth) but Hidden Lake Peaks and "Sunny Girl" (Pk 6160+ to the west) and the Middle Fork Cascade River Valley were visible.

 

Chapter 7 -- Buried up to Our Heads in Rubble

We reversed our route back, free-downclimbing or simulclimbing most of it. In the steep forest we did one single-rope rappel (on a 50m rope) past the worst part of the gully sliver. Also, we rappeled the steep mud from the notch back to the snow finger. Back at the crux section we performed one double-rappel (a fun one down the sheer wall abutting the crease):

 

Then it was more downclimbing down the loose stream cut below the crux. One of your more unpleasant gullies, to be sure. There is a minor constriction in the lower part of the gully. I was ahead, Martin was just behind me, and Mark was traversing across the top of the constriction. As I'm stepping down past the constricting block (the blockage), Mark yells out "Rock!" but there wasn't an immediate tumbling of rocks. The rocks above were moving in slow motion and I couldn't see them, only hear them. Because I was not in a position to turn around quickly where I was I tried to jump into an overhang under the block. I didn't make it (slipping on more wet debris at my feet) and fell to my stomach against the block but not quite under the overhang.

 

Bump bump smack bump smack! Lots of football-sized rocks plopped off the top of the block and pelted my legs, ass, and back. Fortunately, the large beachball-sized rock that started it all fell harmlessly to my side. My ass really smarted after that. I was not hurt and only mildly shaken up. Thanks, Mark! For the hike out I milked the incident for all it was worth just to make Mark feel bad. He said he was getting me back for doing the same to him on Hard Mox last year.

 

Back at the trail by 6:45 pm, back at the car by 8:45 pm, and my Michelob Lager in the back of my throat by 8:47 pm. I'll spare you the details on the big brown bear we encountered on the trail near the river. Mark scared it off before I could snap a photo.

 

Grade III; Class 4 with one Class 5 move; Gain = 4,100 ft.

Possibly an easier winter climb--especially if enough snow covers the crux--but the approach will be harder/longer.

 

Spago Gully is my name, which I may change in the near future, spago being Italian for twine or string. The peak is full of stringy gullies.

 

Our Route (Scurlock photo taken 4/28/05):

 

Gear Notes:

Two 50m ropes (or possibly one 60m). The rappel past the crux, due to the lack of suitable rappel anchors, may not reach with a single 50.

A few mid-size cams for anchoring above the crux (the available cracks are flaring and so won't take nuts too well). Or, you could try and sling some suspect little bushes.

Five or six double runners with 'biners.

Helmet (FOR SURE)

Ice axe

Lightweight crampons (in case the snow finger in the gully is icy)

 

Approach Notes:

Cascade River Road to South Cascade River Road (gated) to South Cascade River Trail to Middle Fork Cascade River Trail to cross-country travel.

[Stefan]

Good job guys! Sorry I couldn't make it!

 

Great report Paul.

[klenke]

More Scurlock aerial photos of Clever

West side, North side, and Northeast side:

[klenke]

And a few view shots:

Pt. 5925 to the south and "Notso Clever" (Pt. 5080+) to the northwest

 

The Triplets and Mix-Up to the northeast

 

Johannesburg Mountain making its own weather:

[JoshK]

Wow, now that is a *classic* looking route...the steep ice runnels, the beautiful clean granite!!

 

Nice job, btw

[klenke]

More like a *chossic* route, but a route and a peak nonetheless.