*View from the lateral moraine later in the day*

Blue Glacier on Mount Olympus

August 16, 2014

From my apartment in Seattle, I have a great view of sunsets to the West over Lake Union, Queen Anne, and the Olympics—I see those mountains most days (ok, when it's clear in Seattle), but hadn't ever climbed them before. Mount Olympus has been on my list since a trip to the peninsula with my parents back in 2011 when we drove up to Hurricane Ridge and caught a view of the snow-capped peak. Until now, it had been hard to prioritize the climb—it's long and not very technical. But with my thumb out of commission following UCL surgery, it made the perfect weekend objective.

Most ascents of Olympus take 3-4 days because the approach is so long—it's about 17.5 miles from the Hoh Rainforest trailhead to Glacier Meadows. From there, the route ascends almost another 4,000 feet and goes another 4 miles or so over the lateral moraine, across the glacier, onto the snow dome, and around the false summit before ascending the final summit block.

Kelsey and I had read some car-to-car trip reports and considered that approach, but decided that adding a few pounds in form of a sleeping pad and bag was worth the ability to sleep comfortably on Saturday night and break up the hike out. We drove to the trailhead on Friday after work, packed, and slept in the car given how many bugs were buzzing around the parking lot. After breakfast, we hit the trail around 5:15am.

Other than rustling up a black bear larger than me, the approach was pretty uneventful. We were in misty clouds with low visibility until just before camp. It took about 6 hours to travel the 17.5 miles, which was pretty good in our minds. We ate lunch at Glacier Meadows, dropped our sleeping gear, and headed for the lateral moraine.

*Ascending the Snow Dome, with the Blue Glacier behind*

The glacier was larger than I'd expected and it took a while to travel up, then across it. In the heat of the day, streams were flowing rapidly down the center of the glacier, cutting deep troughs and running into moulins which we steered well clear of. The route ascended moderate snow diagonally across the snow dome, cutting across some rock bands, and then gained the upper plateau, which had some crevasses, but also hosted a nice boot pack. The slog around the false summit and then up to the final ridge was a bit painful, but the view was really nice. We scampered across some loose rock to the saddle below the summit, put our crampons back on for the steep snow, and then opted to climb the 4th class ledges rather than the low-5th class rap route since both of us had injured hands.

It was easy going to the summit and we hung out for a few minutes before scampering down. It had taken us about 11.5 hours to reach the summit from the car. The rap went without incident (we'd brought two 30m glacier lines and tied them together), though we could have likely down-climbed the 4th class without much trouble and saved ourselves the weight. The rest of the descent was pretty easy and we were down on top of the moraine before 8pm, where we shared some whiskey to ease the pain in our feet and watched most of the sunset before scampering down to camp at dusk without needing headlamps.

Having a hot dinner and sleeping for almost 8 hours was huge. Both of our feet were pretty sore when we woke up. They loosened up a bit for the first 5 miles or so before they got worse again. We napped at the half-way mark and rested our feet, then trudged out with the help of podcasts and music, finishing the hike out in about 7 hours all told. Our feet hurt like they hadn't ever hurt before, but we'd done it and were at the car by 2pm, ready for burgers, coffee, a jaunt at Ruby Beach, and a drive home with a stop in Olympia to hang out with a friend who lives on a boat there. I'll chalk it up as a win.

Mount Daniel

August 9, 2014

With my hand still in a splint following surgery to reattach the UCL on my left thumb, my tick list shrank down to climbs I normally wouldn't prioritize—long approaches, less-technical routes, etc. Mount Daniel had been on my list as a ski tour, but the stars aligned to do it as an easy car-to-car mission with some good friends.

We had read some trip reports suggesting up to 12 hours for the round trip, so we left Seattle at about 5am, were hiking by about 8am, and quickly ascended the bench and up to Cathedral Pass. From there, it was a quick dip and back up to Peggy's Pond, which was beautiful, but pretty buggy. We'd brought crampons and axes and considered going up the glacier, but the snow didn't look continuous, so we went up the SE Ridge, which afforded some great views in most directions. We hit snow about 1,000 feet below the East Summit, traversed over, and hit the saddle on the South end of the East Summit.

The talus on the traverse around the summit was a bit sketchy and not something that the crew was psyched on, so we scooted up to the East Summit and called it good. The timing was perfect—an F16 jet came screaming through the valley and did a fully banked turn in front of us. It was really awesome.

From there, we retraced our steps to Peggy's Pond where we went for an invigorating, albeit brief dip before continuing on and finishing up in about 9 hours car to car. It was a solid day, followed by burgers and beers at The Brick in Roslyn and some live music in the town there.

North Face on Mount Buckner

July 5, 2014

During a climb of the Torment-Forbidden Traverse last summer, I remember looking down onto the Boston Glacier and over to Mount Buckner, thinking how expansive and remote the area looked. Buckner's North Face seemed like a good objective for the July timeframe, so Kelsey and I geared up once again.

We left late from Seattle on the 4th, departing the car from the Boston Basin lot at about 1:45pm. Our plan was to camp on the Boston Glacier, partly just for the experience of being back there for a night, knowing that it would mean a carry over. It took just over an hour to get to the snow line at the edge of Boston Basin. We headed up the Quien Sabe route in our shorts and t-shirts, enjoying the beautiful day. We decided to forego the loose scramble around Boston in favor of a (hopefully) easier drop from Sharkfin Col or the nearby ridge.

To keep things light, we'd only brought a 30m glacier line and it sounded like the Sharkfin drop would require a longer rap, so we traversed past it to the ridge just to the east. The down climb on the far side looked steep but possible, so we headed down there. The first half wasn't too bad—just steep, but secure snow. Then it got a little spicy, with a little low-grade, mixed down climbing in a no-fall zone on crumbly rock. It took a while to pull this off, since neither one of us wanted to end up with a broken leg on the North side of the divide.

Sunset on Buckner's North Face from camp

After the spicy down climb, the weather started rolling in and began lightly raining on us as we traversed near large crevasses to a flat point on the glacier about three quarters of a mile from where we'd dropped in. The approach to Buckner was obvious from here and we were starting to get a bit wet, so we pitched camp and dove into the tent for some fuel and sleep, which were both made better by the highly American P-51 Imperial Porter we'd carried in to celebrate the 4th.

Our back of the napkin math suggested that we could be back at the car in about 10 hours, so we set an alarm for 4:30am. The sunrise was quite Mordor-esque and, after enjoying it and some coffee, we were moving by 5:45am. It only took an hour to reach the route, traversing high above most of the crevasses and finding a boot pack up there.

I'd been hoping for something at least a little spicy on the route, be it ice or rock, but the route was in fine early-season shape, with a boot pack that was somewhere between faint and well-formed throughout. We went from our traverse point at 7,800 feet to the summit at 9,114 feet in 1 hour, stepping over the final ridge into the sun at about 7:45am. The most difficult part had been steep snow just right of a rock outcrop about halfway up. We didn't feel the need for (and didn't place any) protection on the climb.

The reality hit us at this point that we'd already done what we'd gone there for and that the rest of our day would be a bit tedious. Thankfully, the descent to Horseshoe Basin was fast. In a little over 2 hours, we were down to 6,500 feet and almost to the snow finger leading to the ramp up to the Sahale Arm. Another 3 hours later (including some naps in the sun on opportune rocks), we were on the summit of Sahale, enjoying the view and the rest of our lunch before descending the Quien Sabe, which was thankfully possible as a straight shot to the Boston Basin camp. We were back to the car at about 4pm and, more importantly, at the BBQ caboose in Marblemount shortly thereafter.

I'd call it more of an alpine tour than a climb. Don't get me wrong—it was gorgeous, but the climb itself didn't quite satisfy the technical appetite. Our down climb from near Sharkfin was the spiciest part of the weekend.