Hidden Treasure in North Cascades

Right near the Canadian border is a spot that is rarely discussed and even less photographed. The northern flank of Mt. Shuksan is absolutely stunning and ironically, the opposite side of which is the most photographed in the US. We started at 6AM Thanksgiving day with a great weather forecast. A long hike and cold, wet bushwack ensued. After reaching our camp above Price Lake, we realized our route was not in condition to be climbed. Watching as avalanches poured down the face and seeing the crevasses were covered with weak snowbridges that would never hold the weight of two climbers, we admitted defeat...this time! The Price Glacier is among the most committing routes on a Cascade mountain and needs to be in condition. This route has it all: steep ice climbing, snow-covered rock climbing, glaciers, incredible views and crazy route-finding difficulties, not to mention the 7,700ft. of elevation gain with full packs. Instead we enjoyed turkey jerky and excitedly planned our return in May...

Crossing the North Fork of the Nooksack River. It was super cold in the valley bottom

Our proposed route cuts diagonally across from the left (over my right shoulder). The actual summit pyramid is behind what is visible here. This face rises 7,000 ft. base to summit. You have to exit the ice and gain the rock at the top to bypass a broken part of the the glacier. Matt and I kept mentioning how we "feel like we're in Alaska"! These pics really don't show how intimidating this face really is!

That night the temps neared 15 degrees and the moon was as bright as I've seen

Moment of Zen :

1 x 9 + 2 = 11
12 x 9 + 3 = 111
123 x 9 + 4 = 1111
1234 x 9 + 5 = 11111
12345 x 9 + 6 = 111111
123456 x 9 + 7 = 1111111
1234567 x 9 + 8 = 11111111
12345678 x 9 + 9 = 111111111
123456789 x 9 +10= 1111111111

1 x 1 = 1
11 x 11 = 121
111 x 111 = 12321
1111 x 1111 = 1234321
11111 x 11111 = 123454321
111111 x 111111 = 12345654321
1111111 x 1111111 = 1234567654321
11111111 x 11111111 = 123456787654321
111111111 x 111111111=12345678987654321

Falling for Fall

So I dropped my camera on the Sherpa Peak climb and now I am piddling with a friend's basic camera trying to get a feel. I understand more than ever now how important the right tools are to the artist. Here are a few I've snapped recently (and one from my creative girlfriend):

Battle with the Mind

After chasing Nick at a blistering pace for 4 miles we left the trail abruptly and started the cross-country “climbers trail” section. It was now that I was noticing the sting of the frigid air on my sweaty skin. Keeping one’s self warm yet dry while being highly active is one of the hardest challenges of surviving extreme environments. Forest gives way to sloping boulder fields and scree slopes and day turns to night sprinkled with millions of visible stars. It is here under a monstrous boulder we lay our heads and it is here we enjoy a toasty fire. What a pleasure it is to warm fingers and toes for the cold rock we’ll endure later!

Next light finds us scrambling up a notch to gain the “crest” of the ridge. A running belay is all we need for the next couple hours as we pick and weave our two man team to the crux pitches of the climb. They say first impressions are the most important and that remains true in the mountains. What we saw sent a sharp tingle down my spine. From this point on, falling off would mean falling a thousand feet bouncing and then falling a thousand more onto steep sloping glacier ice. We studied what we could see, munched pemmican bars and checked our time. Once we continue on, we are committed, there would not be enough gear to rappel the route. The only way off this rocky massif would be up and over.

A rappel down to the thinnest ridge crest I have ever climbed and after a balancing traverse Nick took the first lead with style and renewed confidence. Reaching this point in the climb had coincided with us being so directly under this north face that we no longer had what little sun we had relished in before. A benefit of cold numb hands is that on this sharp granite you can’t feel the pains of jamming fists and fingers in cracks. It is hardly a benefit though because you also are left to guess what you are holding and on the drive home, your hands feel like fresh ground beef.

The rest of the climb was defined by big moves made more complicated by our packs. We topped out into the welcoming sunlight much later than we expected. On top is a precariously balanced boulder about 30 feet high. After re-fueling and pondering this oddity of nature, a couple short rappels down the opposite side dropped us into a gully . Here we began the long traverse across to a pass that would take us back down to our warm sleeping bags. This is also where we began to realize just how much more effort the descent required than the climb itself. Neither of us remembered our guide book mentioning the strenuous horizontal crossing of a steep mountainside scattered in vertical rock bands for half of a mile. But then that's why this became adventure and made it onto this blog! …to be continued...

Pics from the Sahale Arm

Pair of Chads on Chair

A clear night high in the mountains always has new rewards. Wednesday night found my roommate Chad and I tucked beneath the east face of Chair Peak, just an hour's drive from Seattle and a 2 hour hike in. With sky's as clear as they had been all year, there we relaxed in our toasty down bags, contemplating the heavens. Chad's knowledge of astronomy guided endless questions about what lay above us. Two hours passed.....over 10 satellites were counted in just a small section of the dark sky. Amazing how much things have quickly changed. Even more amazing, countless falling stars still provide a breath-taking show! Thankfully, our mother nature is of yet still the same and we can still enjoy that work of art capable of humbling even the humblest and inspiring the most-inspired.
A beautiful morning awoke us and we began our journey up the looming rock face .

September 11th is Unique

My birthday has a few rarities involved with the numbering:

• 9+1+1=11
• 254th day of year...2+5+4=11
• After 9/11, there are 111 days
• 'September 11' has 11 digits

Like Sleeping in the Fridge

“Finally!” Nick and I had just finished the long hike in to Dragontail Peak. It’s winter and the forest service road is under snow, adding a few miles to our adventure. Now we focused on drying our boots and warming our hands for tomorrow we’d be glad we had as we made our way up this beautiful peak. Triple Couloirs is among the most desirable of ice climbs in the Cascades, featuring three steep icy couloirs that are connected by rock bands smeared in ice. This is the climbing of my dreams!
Our first view of the route worried us, as there appeared to be less ice than desired. The next morning we started up anyways. Sure enough, it hadn’t gotten warm enough during the daytimes to cause the melt water that freezes into ice. “Oh, well, let’s hit it.” And off I went, slowly and even more precariously. One tool in a corner with two inches of ice, the other hand jammed in a crack in the rock while my feet scraped around for something that could support the weight of me and my pared down pack.

During these times, I have to fight back creeping thoughts that make you doubt climbing altogether. “Here I am, you'd better make it work.” I'd say. Two pitches of this was all we could handle. There was nowhere to place protective gear and we were wasting daylight. So we rapped off to our right and scraped up an alternate line we had scoped earlier.

The long winter night caught us as we finished up more climbing on rock smeared in ice:As we summited, discussion turned to what we had been wondering to ourselves. We had only day packs, no sleeping bags and no stove. The plan was to be back at the base that night, and descending the opposite face of the peak was tricky. Deciding it was too dangerous to rappel an unknown route in windy darkness, we began digging a ledge for the night. This was most certainly the coldest experience of my life. Sitting straight up and on our packs and rope to avoid touching snow, we killed time all night by silently wondering if and when the sun would rise. Winter nights here are as long as they are cold. Light did come, though not in the form of warm sun we had lucidly dreamed of. Still cold and Seattle gray, our stiff legs took us eagerly home. I can hardly wait for new winter experiences!

Mountain of Fire and Ice

As summer fades to fall here in Seattle, I look back and see how incredible this year has been for climbing in the Cascades. Of course , the best is yet to come! Probably the most memorable if not exhausting climb took place the first week of June. Matt, Chris and I paced ourselves up the objectively dangerous Liberty Ridge. This ridge is an intimidating and famous line directly up the North Face of Mt. Rainier.


Considered one of North America's 50 classics, we expected not only a challenge but incredible views of the world around us. Seeing the lights of the Seattle-Tacoma area become visible as the sun fades over the Olympic Mountains and Puget Sound is a unique experience that can only be enjoyed on this side of the mountain in rare good weather.

For three days we enjoyed climbing and sleeping on the dramatic and ever-changing facade of Rainier's north face. Hard to believe that this mountain covered in fractured glaciers hundreds of feet thick, was created by powerful forces pushing hot molten rock out of the depths of the earth.


Upon reaching the top in a blowing storm with zero visibility, awe of our surroundings suddenly changed to the reality of the descent. Have you ever been in a cave and they turned out the lights? If so, you felt how black the color black can be. Ours was just the opposite. Called a white-out, fresh pure snow on top of snow, while in the clouds is so white you only see spots and lose equilibrium. Some group debate and a topo map finally led us down the expansive Emmons Glacier and eventually back to our car that hauled our hungry stomachs to the nearest mexican food restaurant.
"Extra chips and hot sauce please!"

What is Buildering...?

These days there is hardly a sport that hasn't been created out of something. Buildering is one of them, and it plays on the term "bouldering" for rock climbing on boulders. The act of climbing man-made structures is not only illegal but somewhat dangerous since it usually has to be done at night. Seattle offers a myriad of choices. Bridges, antennas, skyscapers, etc. Recently during a full moon, we found adventure while most people slept.

















Can you guess where these pics were taken...?

View from the Edge

The name is intriguing enough. Then you see it. Amongst peaks with scary names in the North Cascades like Torment, Fury, and Formiddable; Forbidden Peak stands out as a mountain with several climbs of classic status and no easy way to the top. The west ridge, which I climbed in July with hardman Chris, is a knife-edge that drops abruptly a couple thousand feet on either side. And that is just part of it, approaching the base is a non-stop hike of near epic proportions.


But the views in good weather, rival any in the Cascades. Upon finally starting up the ridge proper, you are met with a scene of Alaskan scale. A mile below, and beneath the only ice-cap left in the lower 48, Moraine Lake, beckons you as the emerald jewel that it is. Though we were plagued with clouds, a few breaks allowed me to shoot some pics.

Looking North

Looking South

The term 'breath-taking' isn’t truly understood until you've discovered for yourself, a view that captivates your mind and body so completely that you forget the reality from where you came. I am thankful I was allowed the "Forbidden!"

Rappelling Down

Is Rainier Next...?

January through April offers the best climbing on Mt. Hood for the experienced mountaineer. From the rarely done Yocum Ridge or Eliot Headwall, to the popular Sandy Headwall, this time of year is prime time. Now the State of Oregon requires you to carry an electronic locator device (GPS, PLB, or similar device) AND a two-way radio during 3 of those months. Now I will usually bring a GPS, but the idea of being required to bring something that gives you immediate communication to the outside world in a WILDerness is an invasion of liberty and freedom! For myself and many, many climbers, a major attraction to the climbing experience is that complete and full reliance on one's own self and having no communication with anyone else in the world. Some argue that you don't ever have to use it if nothing happens. Others say it is to help reduce rescue costs and ultimately taxes. So what's the big deal...? Well first, the total cost of all NPS rescues averages $3.5m a year with overnight hikers accounting for the biggest percentage. Mountaineers account for only 2% of the number of ALL rescues made (though mountaineering rescues are the second costliest). Compare $3.5m to our government's 2007 spending budget of $2.8 trillion. Second, more idiots with more rescue options will mean more rescues. Look at all the rescues in the Alps. Third, who wants to stuff extra things into an already burdensome pack. And the most important reason we shouldn't tolerate this: it will eventually lead to more regulations in more wilderness!
Thanks Uncle Sam, for letting us use "your" wilderness.

An individual, or at least one individual in a group,
who engages in mountain climbing in the month of
November, December, January, February or March on
Mount Hood at an elevation above 10,000 feet shall
carry a 2-way, electronic communication device AND:
(a) A global positioning system receiver;
(b) A personal locator beacon transmitter;
(c) A Mount Hood mountain locator unit; or
(d) Other comparable device.
Source