October 28, 2012 - Kendall Peak

Our route up from the PCT trailhead at Snoqualmie Pass up to Kendall Peak

The day prior I had headed up to Paradise to ski the October powder up on the Muir snowfield with some friends. Unfortunately the beautiful conditions that we had heard about had deteroriated quickly, and all we found was blowing rain and wet dense heavy snow. A few days later, a quick glance at the Paradise webcam revealed most of the snow was gone - thanks Pineapple Express! Winter will need a reboot, I guess.

The forecast for today was free of rain, thankfully, but the warm front that had moved in thwarted our desires to head up to Baker to explore skiing near Heliotrope. Not wanting a rainfree weekend day to pass uneventfully, we decided to head up to Snoqualmie Pass and hike into and scramble up the North ridge of Kendall Peak, a class 3 scramble. We had been up Commonwealth Basin previously, and Nicole had hiked the catwalk before, but we never scrambled up to the summit. I was also looking forward to scouting out some skiing lines in the area, as I'd heard of some nice couliors in the area.

We drove up through some light rain, but predicably the rain died down as we climbed up to the pass and parked at the PCT trailhead. We were stimyed in finding the climbers trail that heads directly up the Commonwealth basin, despite having using that path in the winter several times. We opted for the longer and more gradual PCT climb, with hopes of taking the climbers trail out to see where it ends and to cut off a few miles.

The hike up went fairly quickly, though I think it was longer than the 5 miles that was written up in Smoot's guide. We found the junction that we would try to take on the way back to follow the climber's trail more directly back to the cars and continued heading up until we arrived at the flat clearing below the large broad W facing bowl on Kendall's south ridge. The PCT winds its way far to the south and traverses back above some cliffs to gain the ridge above the bowl. The direct way up following the creek, however, was much shorter, so it must be quicker, right!? Somehow I was able to convince Nicole to try it. We could see about where the PCT cut across the high bowl, and it was gradual up to that point, but after tiptoeing across our fourth snow covered log with blind footsteps falling off the side of the log Nicole pulled the plug and we both made our way back to the trail and wound our way up to the ridgeline in just a few minutes.

Shoulder season scene

We took a break and had lunch at a convenient spot with views out towards Snoqualmie, Red, Lundin and the approach up towards Kendall itself. Already about 5 miles in, and unsure if we'd be able to cash in on the promise of a shorter deproach via the climber's trail, Nicole decided to head down. Assured that she was fine heading down the trail, I continued up to try and tag the peak and race down to the car. I followed the trail as it wound directly below the summit. I saw some folks just starting up nearby where the summer trail ought to be. There was about 4-6" of snow by this point, just enough to hide the rocks underneath, but not enough to properly kick steps. Shoulder season! I decided to continue on, hoping the North ridge would be in good condition, and looking foward to the class 3 moves along it. I was glad there would be footsteps down the South face, though, as I planned to take that down.

As I gained the notch N of the summit, it became apparent that there was more snow on the ridge than I had bargained for. There was plenty of rock exposed to scramble up, but in many places only one or two variations of snow free scrambling would be available, forcing you into harder rock moves than would be necessary in the dry summer. I walked around the east side and gained the ridge and climbed up for about 10 minutes before deciding this class 3 scramble wasn't in the stars for me today. I didn't much feel like climbing class 4 rock with the possibility that the only way forward or backward afterward would be class 4 downclimbing.

Back at the notch I took the trail 300' back downhill and decided to try and climb up a couloir that gained the ridge beyond the small bump I didn't want to climb. It was a scree field underneath, but the depression had accumulated more snow than the surrounding area, and snow steps were just barely possible. I climbed right up the gut where the snow was deepest and got within about 20' of the top before it started to get spicy again. The snow got shallower and the scree underneath transitioned abruptly to slab. (Curious sidenote - I wonder if this transition is important for avy danger here - the slab is right at the start zone, but we don't OFTEN get terminal slides in mid-winter, right??). 

scene of the hidden snow slab climbing

I was forced to brush off enough snow to get foot holds on the slab and after a few teasnious moves, I was able to get good handholds on the ridge crest itself and I pulled myself up. The view was not enticing. The ridge went up and down along similar terrain that I was on until the summit, still perhaps a quarter mile distant. I didn't have time to slowly work my way over along the ridge... had to descend! The initial downclimb on the slab was spicy, but once back in the gulley proper, somewhat positive plunge stepping deposited me back on the PCT.

I continued back on the trail until I saw the footsteps heading up following the summer trail. Not wanting to give up on the summit altogether, I decided to give it a go. A few minutes up I met the gentleman coming down who had put in the steps. He made it to the top, so I figured it was good to go - a quick thanks and he and his Australian shepard jetted down the trail looking to catch up to his wife. I followed the steps up (always follow the bootprints, dogs sometimes climb themselves into dead ends!!) and soon the summit was within reach. 

the last bit of ridge walking to the summit

I topped out a bit early and had to traverse the ridgeline for a few hundred feet, but it was not nearly as bad as further below on the N. ridge. I took a bunch of pictures of all the nearby peaks in their new snow cover (probably all gone now a few weeks later) and then headed down.

Red mountain, obviously.

Thomson! High on the list. Route looks snowfree here! Should have daytripped it

Sunny view from the summit

Once on the trail I stashed my camera, buttoned down the pack and ran most of the way back to the junction with the climber's trail. The PCT was perfect for this - a gradual downhill made for an easy quick jog. I took the cilmbers trail down, and took a quick left off it, hoping to get down to the creek and eventually find the log crossing we've used in the winter. I'd have to cross the creek at least once to get in the middle, however, before taking that log crossing out near the end of the trail. The trail petered out at some point and I ended up having to schwack a ways downstream before eventually crossing and finding a good path on the North side of the southern most creek (it's a maze in there). I'm sure this path connected somehow with the turnoff from the PCT further upvalley from where I schwacked. Following the trail downstream, the log crossing soon revealed itself, and I knew I was home free. Another mile or so of steeper downhill and I was back - a beautiful day in the mountains for late October!

October 7, 2012 - Vesper Peak North Face

The beautiful late summer continued to encroach upon fall in the pacific northwest. The north face of Vesper had been on the list for a while, so Nicole and I took the weekend to carry our packs into the basin below Vesper and camp, and climb in the morning. 

Our route and some beta for approach. Go up standard E. ridge scramble route and cut North at 5800'

This was my first time out on the Mountain Loop Highway, I thought, until I recognized the Lake 22 trailhead on the way by. So... new territory once we passed that! Nicole had recently been up towards Del Campo, and her report back of how nice the views were prompted Vesper being moved to #1 on the list.

The approach was straightforward. The only beta for the trail approach we had was that Headlee Pass was hidden from view until you are right up on it, and indeed it was! Only as we pulled directly up below the tightly switchbacking trail were we able to figure out exactly where this trail meant to punch through the craggy skyline above.

Nicole crossing the talus field beyond Headlee Pass

Rainier in sunset light

We made camp along the east ridge of Vesper just after the creek crossing. We lounged around in camp and made plenty of food. I had carefully planned out a star timelapse, but was stymied by my intravoltemeter running out of batteries - bummer! The stars were quite impressive none the less. 

Planning for the next day, I severly overthought the approach to the class 4 traverse that leads to the beginning of the climbing. Figuring that we needed to drop to the lake before climbing up to the correct notch, I unintentionally got us a bit off course...We climbed up a rocky face above the lake only to find a snow slope without any mark of human travel. No prints from the groups we talked to on their way out yesterday... uh oh. The snow was very low angle, but was bullet proof, and we didn't have crampons or ice axes. The run out wasn't bad, however, so we slowly worked our way up, using the suncups as steps and our poles as wanna be ice axes. Eventually we gained a notch in the ridge, but unfortunately we were one bump away from the beginning of the traverse, so we scrambled some rocks on what is likely the standard Vesper - Sperry traverse route.

Our route up in red and down in blue. Follow the blue up and traverse on the pink (5800') to avoid our poor approach!

Nicole making her way up to Vesper - Sperry col

Nicole embracing the easy approach we though we would have

Moon over rocks

Eventually we got back on track and started the traverse, which is billed as 4th class by none other than Fred Becky. Knowing this... I fully expected we'd be roping up at some point before heading upwards. I didn't think, however, to keep a keen eye out for a footpath at the first sign of difficulty, and after 20+ minutes wasted in a poor simul-traversing botch, I looked down and noted an easy footpath below us. Reverse simul and down to the path and we scrambled as far west as we could until we felt the need to rope up.

The first pitch was certainly still part of the "traverse" that some parties undertake, as I climbed up one 20' section of easy open book, then ran it out as I walked on ledges trending up and right. I stopped at one of these ledges knowing that I couldn't pass over the whole slab that lay above and to my right with the remaining rope. Built a solid anchor (this trend wouldn't continue) and brought Nicole up.

Looking back down the first pitch with Glacier Peak in the distance

The second pitch started up the unprotectable slab and aimed for a weakness in the "roof" above that lay between us and the upper North face. it was rather easy to walk some ledges up through the roof instead of doing any serious climbing, and protection was there when needed. Once up past this small roof, however, the slabby nature quickly took over again and there wasn't much pro for a while. As I neared the end of the rope length once more (thanks radios) I pulled over one more ledge and found virtually NOTHING with which to make an anchor. All smooth folds of rock with no cracks... nothing to sling. The only piece I was able to get in was a small nut, but the direction it was in wasn't all that inspiring for belaying a follower. As I searched around in the vicinity of the nut placement, I found a tiny fissure in which I was able to jam a purple Metolious #0cam into, and a secure tug seemed to reassure. However by far the best piece of this anchor was the third one - as I sat back into the slightly incut ledge, I braced my feet high on the lip and cammed myself into the rock. Three on a rope style! I slapped in a Munter and brought Nicole up, who thankfully followed with no issues, though I'm rather sure I could have held her just fine.

Looking up at the final 1.5 pitches of open book climbing. 4 star!

After Nicole came up, we both walked a bit up and left on this large ledge and set off on the final 1.5 pitches of climbing to the summit. This is what we had come for - amazing slab with a great open book crack running the whole way up. It reminded me of Diedra at Squamish. The first pitch off the ledge was a bit tricky to start and I threw in almost a third of the cams in our alpine rack in the first 4-5 moves, but after that it was cruiser and I thought very little of placing every 20'+. Eventually the rope ran out and I built an anchor conveniently enough at the next opportunity. I had actually run out of larger cams for the diehdral crack already, so used some smaller cracks in the wall off to the left.

Looking down from the last belay station

Nicole followed up and really seemed to be enjoying herself. Unfortunately the crowd that had peered down upon me as I had worked out dissipated, likely looking to casually stroll out to the cars before dark! Before I knew it I was taking the sharp end again and running all the way up to the ridge crest. The last 30' of slab was gravely overgrown with lichen and moss, so instead I climbed directly up left on some loose crap. I even took a bit of a slip, but was able to hold it before weighting any pieces. Once off the rock I had to walk up some steep annoying grass before I could build a decent anchor. I then radioed back to Nicole, through the chatter of the zipline operation who seemed to be sharing our station, that the belay was on.

Me: Nicole, belay on

Random dude: Carol is strapped in... wooeee! zip away

Random dude #2: Allright Carol, we'll see you at the bottom

Nicole: What??

She eventually got the message, and I found out later that the real holdup was trying to unjam a cam from the anchor, which thankfully she eventually got loose.

We lounged on the summit and enjoyed the late summer sunshine. New forest fires had sprung up between us and Rainier and it was interesting to see the smoke plume rise up and then get abruptly sheared off towards the northwest.

The snow was much softer and easier on the descent

We made quick time of the descent, and packed up our camp in record time before bounding down the path to Headlee Pass and out to the car. A great trip which also served as inspiration to come back to this beautiful area. Vesper is a common spring ski tour... but I think it would make a worthy winter summit as well... Vesper Glacier tour, anyone?? Circumnavigation of Big 4 Mtn?

Ascend to Hall Peak / Big Four Mtn col. Drop down through likely thickly wooded and steep slopes towards outlet of  Copper Lake. Skin to base of Vesper Glacier (name?) Climb and set up camp at notch where traverse starts for N. Ridge routes. Ski back down glacier and reclimb :) Second morning traverse over and drop overnight gear along E. Ridge and climb up Vesper and ski down to pick up gear. Then ski out via Headlee Pass and Sunrise Mine trail road to Mtn Loop Highway. Would have to be able to drive in this far on the loop highway, so not sure if this is doable in deep winter?? 

September 29, 2012 - Burgundy Spire

After dealing with knee issues for 5 weeks of the most glorious late summer / early fall weather in WA state, I finally felt ready to head out and climb in the alpine! Burgundy Spire had long been on our ticklist, and armed with Steph Abegg's ridiculously good trip report, Skye, Ryan and myself headed out on Friday night to get some climbing in. We stopped by the turnoff to check out where we'd need to head in the morning, and got a glimpse of the Liberty Bell group lit up by the moon and stars dazzling above:

Stars and clouds over Liberty Bell group

We drove up and camped nearby the turnoff. A light rain woke us at 3AM as we slept out with just sleeping bags on the ground - yeah, it's almost October and the weather was THAT nice. The rain was light enough that we didn't care much and all rolled over and snoozed on. Fortuitously, the cell phone alarm was also moved, and somehow switched off, though the actual events here are highly disputed. Rising at 6AM, an hour after we had intended, we beat feet back to the turnout, and after a bit of IT band foam roller action and gear rearranging, we were off.

The approach was navigationally straightforward... lots of uphill!

Burgundy col is the notch (lowest point) in center.

We had watched a few groups bound for Chianti head off before us, so we knew the general tack down the hillside, but we also heard them get a bit lost in the woods trying to find the creek crossing. We must have lucked out, however, as we easily followed a carined trail to a large crossing, and a legit climber's trail on the other side. From there it was up. Up and up. I knew the approach wasn't insignificant, but I hadn't really looked at the details that carefully....it was a good bit of climbing! Eventually we popped out onto a bench; with beautiful larch trees beginning to dominate, it really felt like fall.

larches were starting to turn

Arriving at the col, we stashed some extra food, arranged our packs for the climb and scrambled down to the base of a class 4 gully system - though we felt it was 5th class and worth of being roped up, for sure. Ryan led the pitch (~65m) and Skye and I followed up. The breeze was picking up, the sun was still behind layers of clouds, and my shorts were feeling like a poor choice. It's not summer anymore!

Hoping to warm up, I took the sharp end and started off on pitch 2 after crossing a sandy gulley that was right behind our first belay. A few moves of vertical climbing led to a 30m long uphill scree slog. I was warm, but it wasn't much climbing! Approaching the base of the next large wall, I veered a bit left and climbed up until we ran out of rope (60m). Skye then led off and got up to the intermediate rap station on the face before I finished the face off and brought us up to the large ledge where you can traverse right (under a block) to the final slabs and off-widths (that's why you're here... right??)

First pitch after traverse. Up the obvious crack in center, then right out of picture...

I was glad to let Skye take the off-width pitch, so I lead up again after the traverse (as far right as you could get!). I think I avoided what most refer to as the "lichen traverse" as I found a fairly easy weakness to climber's right that allowed me to get up above the bolts. I hadn't seen them on the way up, so I built an anchor a bit above and to the right. After Skye and Ryan came up we made a quick (and by quick I mean should have been quick but really took the same amount of time as any other pitch) pitch over to the bolts, where we finally launched Skye at the summit, which he led in fine style.

Armbar Chickenwing from Erik Turner on Vimeo.

Larches appeared to avalanche down the slopes...

staying warm at the last belay... shorts... not a good idea after Labor Day...

Unfortunately with fading light, Ryan and I made the call that getting the two of us up the last pitch and adding a whole additional rap wouldn't let us get off the rock before dark, so we decided to just have Skye rap down quick and get the descent underway. I was bummed to miss out on the summit pitch, but it was certainly the right call, as we were still rappelling as the sunset. Though at least we were still above treeline, and were able to witness one of the best sunsets I've seen in the mountains! 

light starting to get good...

I was pretty pumped at this point... knowing those clouds were about to get LIT UP

beautiful evening light

Ryan descending in the last rays of light... col visible below...

Baker was ON FIRE

Then the clouds went off... amazing sunset

Next time a camp is in order up at the col, and a descent down to the base of Pisano pinnacle for the full Pisano > Burgundy linkup!

September 1st, 2012 - La Sage - Cabane de Moiry

Day 6 on the Haute Route. Despite the titles, we were actually in Les Hauderes the past night, and needed to walk up to La Sage before we could start the hike of the day. 

Our route up from Les Hauderes up to col du Tsate, down to the base of Glacier de Moiry and up to the cabane

This would be one of the longer days including the most climbing, so we were looking for a way to skip out on the walk to La Sage. The bus didn't leave until around 9AM, and we wanted to get an earlier start than that, so after breakfast we tried our luck waving a car down. As we walked up the road, a few cars passed until finally one pulled over, right where the path was about to cut up and away from the road. As we got into the car we could see a party of 3 hiking up the trail above us - we'd get a jump on them, we though!

Nicole starting the walk up to La Sage that would end.... in a car :)

We zipped up to La Sage in the back of a Honda full of hay. Though we couldn't communicate very well, the woman was obviously a bit worried we'd find her car too dirty - obviously she hadn't gotten a wiff of us yet!

She let us out near the town center, and we consulted the guidebook for directions out of the town onto the track. We vaguely matched up the description of the town with what we saw, and decided that we must be going the right way. A single yellow sign that directed us towards a village further uphill seemed to indicate that we were on the right path. As we climbed, the way got less and less clear, paths diverged and shrank, and we soon found ourselves at the edge of some steep fields with small game trails going up into the woods. Didn't feel right... we saw a road a few hundred feet below us, so we decided we ought to get to the road and get reoriented. Cutting through farmers fields and people's backyards, we finally got down to the road, and we ran into the group of three we had seen from below while snagging our ride up the road. It was a group of three from Israel, and we teamed up with them for most of the climb up to the col. They were walking out from the ACTUAL town center, which we hadn't been to, so with our bearings now recalibrated, we headed out uphill.

As we wound our way higher, we passed a number of ski lifts and small cabins for rent. One even had some smoke out the stack as the occupants were warming up on the brisk morning.

Cabin and dents de veisivi behind

After two days of rain and snow, the grand views were spectacular

We passed a few small villages high up on the hillside, and eventually came to a junction where the trail meant to bring us straight up a loose gully directly up to the col. We opted to take the road cut up and around instead, especially since we had seen some hikers about an hour ahead of us navigate that way rather easily.

Nicole making her way up along the road cut

As we neared the Remonte du Tsate, we saw a large long building and heard the bells and noise of cattle inside. They surely heard us coming as well, and probably figured they were about to be fed, but alas we didn't offer up any powerbars. They were a noisy lot, though!


Cows below col du Tsate from Erik Turner on Vimeo.

Now we turned directly uphill and could see the col, or at least a notch we thought could be the col. Up to this point we were able to walk on wet trail and road, but had avoided the snow. Now we were following steps in the snow, which at its deepest only got to about ankle height. We began up and only a few minutes above the cattle came to a beautiful lake with a great view. It reminded us of the enchantment basin in the eastern cascades.

Beautiful lake and views of snowy peaks

As we climbed, the views off to our right got bigger and better. Glaciers and more distant peaks came into view. The skies stayed a dark blue with only innocent puffy white clouds there to provide context to the peaks thrusting up into the sky.

snowy peaks and glaciers

The last bit of scrambling up to the col was made fun by the inches of snow laid on top of the slick rocks. With careful balance and the aid of previous footsteps we scampered up to the col and met quite a scene. A group from Seattle was having lunch, so we chatted with them, naturally, but we were also witness to some fit looking guys running up to the pass with large packs on, which they quickly produced parachutes from. Paragliders! We learned there was a paragliding race on over the last few days - the racers were tasked with trying to visit as many huts as possible in 4 days. They had been cooped up for the last two due to bad weather, so they were out in full force on this bluebird day to chase down some points. We watched different paragliders for the rest of the day as they found thermals, rose up hundreds of feet, and proceeded to fly up and over cols above us.... it was intense!

We also broke for lunch at the col, enjoying the warm sunshine, amazing views and nutella. Anxious to move onward, we didn't stay long as we sought to finally catch a glimpse of the cabane and the nearby glacier. As we descended form the col we saw impossible switchbacks carved into the rock face on the other side of the valley.... that couldn't be the way up to the cabane... right?

Well we learned that the short climb at the end of the day up to the cabane would be a bit more than we bargained for! We needed to descend all the way to the terminal lake up the moraines on the other side and then up steep switchbacks to the cabane. Probably should have studied the map a bit closer, but we had plenty of time, so we took off down the rest of the descent.

Nicole after descending from the col du Tsate with the icefall coming into view behind

Terminal lake and Moiry icefall

From the terminal lake we climbed up through cattle fields into increasingly rocky terrain. One particular bull obviously liked standing on the trail directly above a bridge over a small creek. There was a well worn trail that went down from the bridge, skipped over the creek on a few rocks, and then back up the trail beyond where this bull was standing... suggesting that many folks had avoided skirting too close to this bull before! We followed the trail and gave him some space.

Nicole climbing higher up towards the cabane

The snow that we had left on the col du Tsate came back, and soon we were walking up through upwards of 6" of snow. There had been enough traffic up and down, however, that the trail was fairly evident, and our feet could stay dry. Hiking up to the cabane is a popular day trip, as there is a road up to the terminal lake.

clinging onto spring

racing paragliders

We trudged up the road through the cattle fields and eventually were on the switchbacks that we had spied from across the valley. We tried to keep count... seeking to hit the magical number of 16, which we had counted from the col. After about 17 or 18, we were looking forward to seeing the cabane, which was doing a very good job of hiding around the top of the slope above us. Finally I shouted down that there was a flag! And the flag was in a courtyard... next to the cabane! It had been a fairly long day on the trail, and we were happy to throw our packs down and relax in the most beautiful dining area ever created by man:

best dining room ever.

Unfortunately my knee had taken quite a beating on this day. The climbing hadn't bothered it while we were moving, but I could feel it tightening up rapidly. Plenty of advil and a few beers helped to relieve or ignore the pain, but I could tell the hiking wouldn't quite be the same for the rest of the trip. I stretched as much as I could and hoped for the best. Meanwhile, we enjoyed the views out the windows, settled into our room and charged up the camera batteries thanks to the extra adaptors our Seattle friends had brought.

Dinner was a carrot and beet heavy salad, lasagna and some sort of sherbet for dessert. The food was decent, but we mostly enjoyed chatting with the Seattle crew and continuously gawking out the windows at the icefall.

cloud formations above the glacier moiry

clouds lit up a bit at sunset

A very short window of colorful light at sunset

I continued to pump advil through the night, and we knocked off pretty early, having fairly tired legs. This was one of the best days of the hike, however, as we really felt like we were hiking away from civilization for much of it. The cabane was not overshadowed by ski lifts, we weren't looking down over a village - we were perched below a remote glacial icefall.