[TR] Mount Stuart- Full North Ridge - Epic or adventure? 8/12/2006

[Rad]

Climb: Mount Stuart-Full North Ridge - Epic or adventure?

 

Date of Climb: 8/12/2006

 

Trip Report:

Heinous epic or awesome adventure? You decide:

 

Weekend Climberz and I set out to climb the full North Ridge of Stuart in a day by going super light, in via Mtneer Creek and out via Teanaway.

 

That would allow us to avoid setting foot on snow and leave the boots, crampons, axe, sleeping bags, sleeping pads, and bivy sacks at home.

 

To save more weight, I ditched my Petzl Duo in favor of my newest toy: a 1 LED light source the size of a quarter that can clip onto a helmet.

 

Foolish or smart? Perhaps both.

 

Weekend was hoping to leave Seattle by 3pm, but had to stay at work until 5pm. No worries, I said, I’ll pick up Thai food to go….

 

We powered down the spicy food and rice, dropped the getaway car at Teanaway, slept for a few hours in the Icicle, and started up the Mountaineer Creek Trail just after 3:30am.

 

The stars were out and the moon was bright.

 

We didn’t see any flagging at the switchback described in Nelson, but found an easy way across the creek.

 

The thrash toward the Ice Cliff Glacier basin was only mildly annoying.

 

We met Dirty Harry and his partner in the rocks below the basin.

 

Only a few words were exchanged but it was clear the race was on.

 

As we arrived below the route the sun’s first rays splashed the North Ridge.

We topped off our water vessels at a snowmelt creek just a few hundred feet from the start of the route.

 

Dirty Harry sat on a nearby boulder, waiting for his partner, as Weekend and I passed him and scrambled the 4th class rock to the start.

 

Weekend quickly fired off the first 60m, including a 5.8 squeezeless “squeeze” that didn’t require pack removal.

We stepped aside at the first belay as DH and his partner simulclimbed past. We never saw anyone else all day.

 

Then I lead the second pitch, following Marko’s advice: “Green means go. Blue means back the hell up and go up green!”

In terms of moves, it was the best pitch of the day, with a fun finger crack to a mantle at the start, some jamming in a perfect dihedral, a sustained lieback, a funky high-step above a small roof, and a slightly insecure exit mantle. I’d call it sustained Yosemite 5.9 on granite that rivals anything in the Valley. Definitely the hardest pitch of the day. It was easily protected with a standard rack.

 

 

Side note: with a 60m rope go all the way to the ledge below the yellow dot on P1.

 

Then climb to the spot where the two routes join for P2.

 

Then we started simulclimbing. Weekend let the first batch.

 

As we got higher the Thai food started to churn.

 

Soon Weekend started feeling like shit......so he did.

 

I few pitches later I followed suit.

 

After the tissues were exhausted we moved on to the route photos I'd printed.

 

Droppin trow on the prow.

Unfortunately, Weekend’s discomfort increased.

 

Although he’s too stoic to complain, it was clear he was feeling pretty crappy, so to speak.

 

Still, there was no talk of bailing so we continued.

 

It seemed my evil Thai plan had worked: I got to lead all the rest of the pitches!

 

However, several non-Thai factors contributed to our slow pace.

 

We had both simulclimbed before, but not together. It took us a while to find our rhythm.

 

Also, I found the route-finding a bit confusing in a few places on the lower buttress. At one point, I climbed left up a 30ft clean face to gain the ridgecrest, only to find steep lichen-encrusted cracks above. I downclimbed, climbed another face, up and around into another crack system, and then was looking at two cracks that ran through separate roofs/overlaps. Both were totally lichen-encrusted. What the F%!? I brought Weekend up, looked around, and found the way: ascend the left crack dihedral until just below the roof, climb a flake on the left wall to gain a crack in a hidden dihedral crack. Neither this hidden crack, nor the small roof it pierced, were visible from below. Sorry, no photos.

 

We climbed and climbed and climbed and climbed.

 

The climbing was never harder than low or mid-fifth class, but this is a damn long route.

 

The afternoon sun lit the ridge behind us.

The exposure on the upper ridge was awesome.

Finally, we crested a small tower and saw the upper slabs and gendarme depicted on the cover of Climbing Sept 2005 (the Epics issue ).

I was bent on getting up and over the summit, preferably before dark, but damned if I was going to come all this way and bypass the gendarme.

 

The first pitch was not too bad: great liebacking in a spectacular position.

 

Weekend decided to prussik to save enough juice to get to the summit.

 

He tied in on a bight so I could belay and then prussiked the line through the pieces.

The sun was sinking to the horizon as I led the second gendarme pitch.

 

It’s much friendlier than people have suggested. A convenient rock wedged down low provides a chock to sling and a handy foothold, a small finger pocket provides a nice positive edge, the crack accepts a few key fist jams, and a few layback moves get you past the crux. Our #4 camalot was great, but we would have been fine with the #3.5 or even the #3.

 

Between the drama of the late hour, the huge exposure, the awesome moves, and the sheer wall bathed in alpenglow it was stunning climbing.

 

I was super stoked to have led those two pitches onsight.

 

The sun set as Weekend prussiked that OW section.

 

The air was calm and still as if the mountain were holding its breath to let us pass.

 

As the light waned, we pressed on as fast as possible.

First, I wanted to make the summit before dark.

 

Then I wanted to get off the upper 5.9 pitch before dark.

 

Then I wanted to at least SEE the 5.9 pitch before total darkness enveloped us.

 

We simulclimbed above the gendarme to a short headwall, arriving just as the cobalt blue sky gave way to blackness.

 

There it was, looming in the darkness, the final sting in the tail of a long, long, route. Three cracks led up the vertical wall.

 

I chose the middle one: a nice hand crack used in opposition with a wide crack. I set off with Weekend’s 3 LED light, he wore my 1 LED light, and we fired it off.

 

Now we faced the final bid for the summit in the dark.

 

Everything on this route is farther than you think, and we finally topped out at 10pm.

 

About that time the moon rose out of the Eastern plains, thick and red, and bathed us in its soft light.

 

A shooting star flashed across the sky.

 

I swallowed my last sip of water.

 

Our climb was over. Or was it?

or ?

 

The car at Teanaway, with sleeping bags and beers, was still a long way away.

 

The forecast was for freezing levels around 10,000 to 11,000 feet.

 

Even my tired mind knew that with Stuart at about 9500 we’d be pretty darn cold without sleeping bags or pads.

 

We had space bags to crawl into, but my extra clothing consisted of one hat and the wool socks I wore on the approach.

 

I remembered getting nerve damage in my big toes in the Pickets in 2003 from similar nights out.

 

I lobbied to descend the Cascadian by moonlight.

 

Weekend thought we should bivy and descend in the morning.

 

I insisted, and we started down to cross the upper basin.

 

After a few hundred feet we ended up getting cliffed out over a small snow patch.

 

At that point I relented, and Weekend generously offered me his extra wind pants, gortex shell, and headsock.

 

..........................

 

THE STUART SNAFFLE:

 

Our bivy site had a few stacked stones and a generous sprinking of snaffle scat.

 

Expecting night visitors, we put our remaining bars in a helmet under a rock.

 

I lay on the rope and my small pack while Weekend squeezed onto his larger pack.

 

We unfolded our space blanket bivy bags and crawled in for a cold night.

 

I pulled my hat over my eyes and tucked, turtle-like, into my crinkly bivy bag.

 

The moon was bright and all was peaceful, if cold, for a few hours.....

 

Sometime later I felt a rustling by my feet and then a big THUMP!

 

A rock fell off our wall onto my leg and something was thrashing into me! It was frigging ginormous!

 

I knew it: the roid-raged snaffle had finally come to claim its victims and their clif bars!

 

I kicked the beast vigorously but that only made it mad.

 

I shouted to alert Weekend and grabbed my light to finally see the intruder.

 

 

It scowled at me, with our prized bars already tucked into its gaping maw.....

 

 

"Whoa, dude!" it said "Are you OK?"

 

I felt a little sheepish .

 

Weekend fell back asleepish .

 

My toe throbbed from kicking the granite blocks at our feet, and my emergency space bivy now had several emergency exits.

 

A gentle breeze began to filter through these.

 

It was only about 2am. To stay semi-warm, I had to lie on my back with my legs bent and clamp my knees together to hold the tattered foil in place.

 

The next four hours passed slowly, but the nerves in my toes remained unharmed.

 

At dawn we scrambled back to the summit and worked our way down the correct path.

 

In the upper Cascadian we went left where we should have stayed right, and we ended up on deer trails in a nameless ditch.

 

No matter. We headed down. We were safe.

 

Next time we'll stay right and go straight down.

After re-hydrating, we trudged up over Long’s pass, meeting at least half a dozen other climbers headed back to their cars.

 

They all had much heavier packs and rolled their eyes at our open bivy on the summit.

 

Back at the car the beer and the creek were cold.

 

The North Ridge of Stuart has been on my list since I moved here seven years ago.

 

I’d say the route exceeded my high expectations, providing an excellent outing all around.

 

I’m definitely glad we did the Full North Ridge because the best pitch of the climb, IMHO, was pitch 2.

 

Next time we’ll go faster because we’ll know the route better and will have a more efficient simulclimbing plan.

 

The car shuttle worked great. The weather was perfect. We had just about the right amount of gear.

 

If we'd carried heavier gear I suspect we wouldn't have made it to the summit before having to bivy.

 

Special thanks to Russ, Jerm, Marko, Yngve, and others who provided some helpful beta through the morass that is CC.

 

Gear Notes:

Gas money!

Standard rack with one #3.5 or #4 camalot for the upper Gendarme pitch.

Lots of slings for horns.

A space blanket bag only weighs about an ounce and it works great if you don't kick holes in it.

 

Approach Notes:

Car shuttle: in Mountaineers Creek and out Teanaway.

Edited August 15, 2006 by Rad

[Billygoat]

Nice

[Alpinfox]

I hope you dispatched your Thai food leftovers off the side of the ridge rather than leaving them on ledges?

 

Nice trip report.

[goatboy]

Here's the part that impressed me: "...but damned if I was going to come all this way and bypass the gendarme."

 

From experience, I know that it's easy to arrive at the gendarme and talk yourself into rappelling around it instead of climbing it, as it looks (and has a reputation) of being stiff and intimidating.

 

Nice work! I've crapped before on plenty of alpine climbs...

[Rad]

I hope you dispatched your Thai food leftovers off the side of the ridge rather than leaving them on ledges?

 

Yep. See that rock platter at Weekend's feet? It didn't stay there!

[Alpinfox]

 

Ah the venerable poop frisbee technique.

 

Mt. Stuart has been festooned with many a poop.

[olyclimber]

many of you missed out when I asked Steve House after his last slide show at the UW how many poops he pooped and how did he poop his poop.

 

good jorb with fighting through it, and grunting to the summit guys. sounds like a real adventure, i'll wait for a nice rain before trying this one.

[G-spotter]

You crap on the glacier and then drink melt water at the base. Or vice versa. It's a litle wheel of fortune for the intestinal fauna.

[Rad]

Something tells me this thread is headed for potty humor.

 

You crap on the glacier and then drink melt water at the base. Or vice versa. It's a litle wheel of fortune for the intestinal fauna.

 

Blue bags would've been better.

 

Iodine breaks the cycle.

[G-spotter]

Something tells me this thread is headed for potty humor.

 

You crap on the glacier and then drink melt water at the base. Or vice versa. It's a litle wheel of fortune for the intestinal fauna.

 

Blue bags would've been better.

 

Iodine breaks the cycle.

 

Do you think blue bags insulate better than space blankets?

[Weekend_Climberz]

Here's a couple more shots from my point of view:

 

Packing at Safeway in Leavenworth (why the hell did we bring all this crap when we weren't going to use any of it):

 

Looking up the lower north ridge:

 

Rad leading the money pitch on the lower north ridge:

 

Rad somewhere on the north ridge looking for a place to extricate some weight:

 

The most glorious sunrise I've seen in all my years in the outdoors:

 

My birthday was last Wednesday, and this was my present to myself. I'm starting to think I have some sort of masochistic personality disorder.

[Jerm]

Nice work guys. I think we've now seen all approach/descent variations to this route this summer, and I think it's more or less clear that none of them are really stand out as best. If you ignore the extra driving, your combo sounds pretty good!

[ivan]

funny - was having a similar experience just a few miles away on colchuck balanced at the same hours - least we made it down to the whiskey 'fore sunup!

[Tophervw]

E-Gads man, that sounds like a wonderful time....