Neve Glacier on Snowfield Peak

July 5, 2020

During a rainy weekend this winter, I’d been scanning maps of Washington State, looking for areas I hadn’t yet explored. In one satellite image a massive glacier near Diablo Lake stood out. As I looked more closely and did some research, I realized that The Neve Glacier on Snowfield Peak was in Classic Climbs of the Cascades, Volume II and had likely not made my earlier lists given its long approach and 3rd class route. After months of lockdown and looking for some solitude, the route sounded much more appealing.

Erica and I originally planned to head in on the Friday holiday to give us two nights for bagging as many of the peaks nearby as possible, but the forecast deteriorated significantly and we decided to pull a day. We left Seattle at 5:30am on Saturday morning and decided getting a permit was the right thing to do. It took a while in Marblemount with only one person working the permits, but we eventually got our official documentation and cruised up to the Pyramid Lake Trailhead, leaving the car at 9am. The clouds were hanging low in the valley and we hoped they would burn off as the forecast predicted.

We expected a long, steep approach and we got it. After an easy 2-mile section to Pyramid lake, the trail kicked straight up the ridge, gaining vertical feet with reckless abandon. The trail was faint in a few places and visibility wasn’t great, but we never strayed far and made good time in our trail runners. At 1:15pm, we had made it to the base of Pyramid Peak’s rock face and began the traverse to the Colonial Glacier. All of the peaks were still socked in, but visibility was good enough to catch glimpses every so often.

We traversed around the East side of the Colonial Glacier tarn and then switchbacked our way up to the Colonial-Neve Glacier col, where we arrived at 3pm. With all of the peaks still socked in, it didn’t make sense to continue on, so we set up camp in the thankfully available campsite and proceeded to have a very leisurely afternoon, complete with soup and tea before a nap. Things hadn’t improved enough in the evening to venture out, so we stayed hunkered down, had dinner before a brief moment of sunset aura, and then went to bed at 9pm.

At 5am, the sky was perfectly clear and the air was breathless. We watched as the sunrise bathed Pyramid, Pinnacle, and Paul Bunyon’s Stump in shades of purple and orange. We started down from camp at 6am, right around when a party of 5 was also heading up. We traded pleasantries and took in the amazing views of The Pickets as we traversed the expansive Neve Glacier. At about 7:20am, we reached the edge of the glacier and were able to take off our crampons and rope since the ridge was sufficiently melted.

The initial walk went easily and then things got a bit more interesting in the gully, which held quite a bit of snow, rime ice, and verglas for early July. We gingerly made our way upwards, climbing up and over the left edge of the gully near its end, then down onto a ramp system, which also held some snow and verglas. At the end of the ramp, we stayed right on the ridge for a few airy steps. At this point, all options looked steeper and higher-consequence, so we short roped together for a brief traverse, going one at a time leaving one person in a secure stance as the other moved. Another 50 feet of easier scrambling got us to the top by 8:30am.

As promised, the summit views did not disappoint. What an amazing position to be on a perfectly clear day! To the South, Eldorado, Forbidden, Boston, Sahale, Buckner, Logan, and all of the other peaks were prominent and crisp. To the Northwest, Baker, Shuksan, and the entire Picket Range were stretched out clearly as well. Some clouds hung in a few of the valleys for extra ambiance, but the views were otherwise crystal clear all the way down to Rainier. We enjoyed it for a while on our own and then with the party of 5 before heading down a little after 9am.

The descent didn’t feel as nerve wracking as the climb and we reached the bottom of the ridge around 9:45am. Our triumphant cruise back down the Neve Glacier was easy and the snow wasn’t too soft at that point. We made it up the rise back to our camp before 11am. Over an early lunch and as we packed up camp, we considered heading up to Pyramid Peak as a detour on our descent, but the snow was getting really sloppy in the bright sun and we decided that we’d rather get back to town with enough time for our first burgers in 4 months, so we headed straight down after packing up just shy of noon. The descent went without incident, though the lower parts of the ridge seemed to go on for much longer than they did on the way up. We got to the car a little after 4:30pm with some creaky joints.

I wish we’d been able to get onto The Needle, Paul Bunyon’s Stump, Pinnacle, and Pyramid, but I’ll just have to come back. I’m holding Colonial in reserve for Watusi Rodeo in the winter/spring one of these years. The approach and descent were monotonous and unsavory, but the payoff was there. What a gorgeous area tucked back there with no signs of civilization.

SE Ridge on Robinson Mountain

June 27, 2020

During quarantine and after a bunch of wet weekends in a row, we were itching to get outside. The forecast looked marginal most places in the state, but the East side looked reasonable for Saturday, so we decided to go up Robinson Mountain, clearly visible at the head of The Methow Valley from Sun Mountain, where Erica and I were married last summer.

We drove out past the pass and camped on Friday night, timing our morning for breakfast sandwiched and coffee at the Mazama Store before heading to the trailhead. As we parked, we smelled burning oil. After parking, further investigation discovered that the guys who had done my recent oil change must not have tightened the bolt—it had loosened up to the point of hanging by a thread and oil was spewing onto the parking lot while the engine was on. Yikes! I foolishly reached under the car to try to tighten it by hand and it immediately fell to the ground, covering my hands in thankfully just warm, not hot oil. We stood in disbelief as the car emptied onto the parking lot.

Thankfully, the Mazama Store sells oil and we were on the receiving end of helpful people who let us hitch to the store and back as well as borrow a wrench to tighten the bolt. Within 2 hours, we were sorted and able to still head off for our scramble. Thank you to everyone who helped! The prospect of squandering the weekend with car trouble after so many days and weekends inside was a really tough one.

After all that excitement, we left the car at 10am with light packs. We made quick work of the Robinson Creek Trail to Beauty Creek and then headed up the steep switchbacks to the valley East of Robinson. The trail faded at a campsite around 5,450 feet and we started making our way up the steep hillside with small hints of foot travel here and there. Things leveled off at about 6,200 feet and we cruised up to the small tarn at 6,900 feet for a lunch break at about 1pm.

We opted to go up the scree slope from the tarn to gain the SE Ridge, which looked more loose and steep than it was. Once on top of that unsavory section, the rest of the ridge was a series of steeps and flatter sections. It often looked much more challenging than it was. At 2:15pm, we were on the false summit at 8,450 feet. We made it to the top, after scrambling the steepest section, around 3:30pm. The “crux” as it was described did have some exposure, but was well wide enough and solid enough to not be concerning without a rope on the way up and down. While it was a bit cloudy, the views of Silver Star and the rest of the range were still awesome.

While up high on our descent, we experienced a brief snow shower. We opted to start down the South Ridge on the way down and then scramble into the basin to glissade down to the tarn, which went swimmingly. It started out relatively steep with mostly a self-arrest mode, but soon opened up to a fun, fast slide.

After a break at the tarn in afternoon sunshine, our walk out was uneventful. We made it to the car 10 hours after we’d started, at 8pm. This was not what I’d call a “fun” route, but I’m glad we did it and were able to have the experience despite the hurdles.

Whitehorse Mountain via Snow Gulch

March 21, 2020

Ah, Whitehorse. The scene of two prior, ill-fated attempts. The first in April of 2018 with Dale resulted in a Jane Fonda “Total Body Workout” bushwhack up the East side of the drainage only to decide that it was far too warm to be safe on the exposed, rollover slopes which had recently shed some huge wet slides, resulting in troughs over 30 feet across. The second two weeks ago when we received more snow than forecast and, after ‘schwacking up the slightly better ridge on the West of the main creek, we bailed due to snow stability at 2,600 feet.

This time had all the stars align. We’d experienced a week of high pressure the week prior, our only snow stability issue was wet slides and the temperatures weren’t supposed to be high, we knew the better bushwhack route, and it was forecast to be a perfect, bluebird day. To get an early start, we drove out on Friday night, arriving at the trailhead alone and crashing in the car. We woke up at 4am and left the car just after 4:30, right after a group of 4 who had arrived in the early morning.

We passed them on the trail and said a quick hello before continuing on in the darkness. The bushwhack went quite well on the way up—really not that bad compared to more unsavory Pacific Northwest ‘schwacks, like getting into the Northern Pickets. At the edge of the forest at about 2,000 feet, we dropped our trail runners and began walking up in our ski boots. We stayed in boots with crampons over the ridge at 2,700 feet and decided it would be most efficient to keep walking all the way until 3,600 feet where the snow became much more soft and it made sense to skin.

The skin was quite pleasant for the most part, except for a few sections of harder wind slab. It felt good to be outside on a breathless, blue-sky day and out of the house. The cirque provided an awesome ambiance, with steep rock walls plastered with rime and a view to the North of Baker and Shuksan. At 5,500 feet, we switched back to boots to go up the rollover headwall, which went quite easily, thanks to an existing boot pack. We decided it wasn’t worth transitioning again before the top and walked up to the summit ridge at 6,700 feet.

The last bit to the summit was a bit steeper than I’d expected at the top, but the runout wasn’t bad in case one were to fall. We each headed up solo with a whippet in one hand and an axe in the other. After a couple body lengths of steep, icier snow, we pulled into the sunshine on the summit just shy of noon. The view was awesome, especially of nearby Three Fingers.

We soaked it in for a few minutes before down climbing, which wasn’t too bad after kicking in steps on the way up, and descending to our skis for lunch. After we descended, the party of four headed up to the top and another party of two was just arriving at the final ridge—I didn’t expect this route to be so popular!

After lunch, we began our ski journey. We encountered breakable wind crust up high, side slipping over the rollover, some decent buttery snow in the middle, and sloppier snow with an icy crust near the bottom. At the very end, we decided it was better to save our knees and just plunge step the last couple hundred feet. With some bourbon to dull our senses a bit, we crashed back down the forest and slide alder to the trail and hoofed it out to the car for right around a 12-hour day. We knew exactly where to go and were pretty fast throughout the day, so it’s unfathomable why the ski tour book expects only 7-9 hours for this. Even with avy debris to skin and no bushwhack, that seems really fast.

Having slain this white wale, I can move on emotionally and look up with a little sense of accomplishment and pride every time I drive through Darrington. Whew.