2 weeks of car2car missions in my childhood backyard

Quick Backstory

I grew up in the Seattle area and moved away when I was 18 (before I discovered climbing). This March, after 10 years away, I moved back, excited to start a new chapter and explore my old backyard through alpine climbing. What previously had been long slogging backpacking trips with my parents, now became (still long and a bit sloggy) approaches to climbs. The peaks and mountains I grew up looking at on my traffic-heavy commute to school, were now objectives.

The SF Bay Area was great for a 3-year compromise between my robotics career and stellar rock climbing, but the expiration date was nearing. I wanted my mountains closer, more importantly, the type of climbing I love, dream, obsess over is alpine, and there is no better sandbox to train and experiment for bigger mountains than the North Cascades. They have a little bit of everything: a base of long approaches, a dash of navigation challenges, a spice of glacier crossings, a pinch of alpine rock, a sprinkle of technical ice, all mixed together with some imperfect weather into a full-value, flavorful punch of experiences, discovery and adventure. They feel like home.

These mountains are the perfect training ground for the Alaska Range, Tien-Shan, Patagonia, etc… PLUS and this is a big plus, there is a burgeoning startup ecosystem in the hardware/robotics space. I can have my cake (the mountains), and an intellectual career.

With that preface and catching you up on the last 10 years of my life, let me bring it back to June of this year. I was working full-time at my robotics engineering job, COVID restrictions had lifted just enough for me to feel comfortable meeting a new partner. Stellar weather, and a stoked partner led to a 2 week flurry of car2car missions. I was completely new to the area, had climbed nothing at all in WA, so why not go tick off the classics?

NE Couloir- Argonaut Peak- June 19

West Ridge- Prusik Peak - June 21 [Trip Report link]

Upper North Ridge - Mt Stuart - June 24

West Ridge - Forbidden Peak - July 5

Adams Glacier - Mt. Adams - July 9

I’m very fortunate to have an adaptable body. The first couple times I did the approach to Colchuck Lake, I was dragging behind my partner Deb (she’s an absolute powerhouse ultrarunner), sucking air, legs on fire. Yosemite didn’t have approaches! Especially not 6000’ vert days over backcountry/bushwacking/snow-covered terrain. After a couple more of these, my body adapted, the long days became more cruiser, trail runners replaced mountaineering boots, scampering on 60 degree snow slopes (with crampons if warranted) was quick, climbing technical ice with a light aluminum ice tool preferred.

If I get to it, I’ll type up individual trip reports for those climbs. Overall they followed a similar pattern and the learnings were similar. I fine-tuned my gear selection to be the right balance between fast+light and a margin of safety, settled into my routine for alpine starts and have a solid grip on navigation and moving over crevassed/snow-covered terrain.

Alpine Starts

• 4am is okay. You'll feel refreshed (enough) and getting up this early won’t impact your climbing. You’ll wish you had a few extra hours of sleep, but this feeling disappears about ~1hr into the approach.

• 1am is not okay. Only do if absolutely necessary. Avoid at all costs. You’ll wake up feeling like you’re a jet-lagged, nauseous, slightly-drunk excuse for a human. This early of a wake-up will absolutely impact your climbing abilities, so scale down the technicality of the objective if it’s such a long day that requires this early of a start.

• Try to eat. Good god please try. Oatmeal works for you. Anything more elaborate does not.

• Always make yourself a cup of green tea. This is part of your morning routine and even if it’s 1am, this triggers your brain into ‘morning’ mode. Get that jetboil out, make that tea, don’t be lazy.

• Pack the night before. Keep doing this. You’ll be able to sleep better and not have your mind anxiously buzzing, keeping you awake.

• About 35min gives you enough time to not rush. Don’t rush. You know how frenetic your energy gets when you’re in a rush in the morning. Slow it down.

Gear Selection

• The approaches are long. Bring your lightest gear if possible. The Air Tech Light Crampons, Grivel Ghost Evo Ice Axe and Ghost Harness (very light yet technical) or Mistral Harness (for ultra, ultralight) will significantly lighten your load. Get them. You’ll bring up your steel monopoints once up 7500’ of elevation gain and not want to do that again.

• Counter to the above, remember that ‘fast and light sometimes means you are frozen and fucked’. I can’t remember where I read that quote, but it’s stuck with me. Balance between the essentials, going light and having a margin of safety is key.

• What worked for someone else, might not work for you and vice-versa. For you, trail runners and an ice axe are enough. For someone else, you’re sandbagging them. Don’t be that douche sandbagging person.

• Always bring trail poles. You’ll love and thank the gods for how light and amazing your trail three poles are.

• Snacks. Bring lots of food. Bring food you’ll eat. Remember that at altitude you tend to loose your appetite. Plan accordingly. Cookies for $3.99 from Safeway do a good job as general fuel. Good sandwiches made with bagels are also something you’ll like. And of course cheese and meat sticks for some fat.

• Always bring crampons if there is even a moderately steep snowfield. Glaciers and snowfields are weird. It can be above freezing at night and they’ll still turn rock solid and slippery. Don’t leave them behind like that one time you did and got away with it. They’re not that heavy, especially not the Air Techs.

• Bring the puffy. You’ll be glad to have it and in a worst case scenario, you can always use it in conjunction with an emergency bivy bag to survive the night.

• Two pairs of socks. Two pairs of gloves. Every time. You’ll thank yourself (or your partner will) later.

Navigation

• There is approach/descent navigation, crevasse navigation and rock-route navigation. All require practice and experience. No better way to learn than to go for it and see what happens. You’ll for sure learn some lessons.

• Reading topos is an art. Practice with a Gaia gpx track overlaid on a topo to hone your instincts.

• Whiteouts happen. A lot. This isn’t California with its always sunny weather. It can be sunny and blue skies one minute and full-on foggy, windy whiteness the next. Be prepared to navigate in zero-viz conditions.

• Crevasse navigation will require ginger steps and a lot of meandering. DON’T BE LAZY. Walk the extra 300’ to get to the slightly thicker snowbridge.

• OMG the bushwacking. Holy sh*t you’ll wish you had never discovered climbing. You’ll be frustrated as sticks and branches poke you, stab you, as you clamber over slide alder, pull on devil’s club with bare hands and generally curse the person (usually you…) that suggested doing this climb. Accept it. Channel your inner Buddhist. Equanimity. Deep breathes.

• Mosquitoes. Deal with them. You’re Siberian. They’re not as bad as your summers in the Brooks Range. Channel your inner Russian. Give sympathetic looks to your partner that says ‘this is the worst I’ve ever seen’. Be kind (even though you know this pales in comparison to the apocalyptic hordes you encountered as a child in Russia).

• Your years of rock and ice climbing experience will definitely give you a leg up in reading the route and where to go. Keep honing this sixth sense and intuition. It’s getting better.

• Own the navigation, even if you’re with someone more experienced or that has been there before. Call out/question your partner if you don’t think they’re heading the right way. Better safe than 3-miles-out-of-the-way sorry.

• Occasionally the way up is through the raging waterfall. Sometimes the rock route is covered in delaminating snow/ice. Sometimes the route just isn’t in and you have to navigate around it. That’s the Cascades for ya. That’s why you moved here remember?

• If it’s covered in lichen and moss, it might be that you’re off-route, or it might just be a fact of life because the PNW has rain and wetness and this isn’t California.

General

• Don’t be a little shit to your partner. If they want to rope up, look uncomfortable before making a move or crossing something, throw them a rope. Don’t be that gal that makes their partner do things outside their comfort zone. You’re better than that.

• Patience. Sometimes navigation will be frustrating and you’ll get a little lost (okay, or a lot lost). Be calm. Back-track. Figure it out. This isn’t rocket science.

• Rope up. Don’t be lazy (this is getting to be a theme isn’t it 🤔). Don’t be the dumbass that punches through and plummets into the abyss without a rope.

• To swim or not to swim in the alpine lake/creek/river, that is the question. No, it’s never a question. Always go swimming. You know you’ll feel way better after than before and you’ve yet to regret a swim. Do it. Convince your partner to come in too if at all possible.

• Double-check all rappel anchors. The PNW is not kind to slings and webbing and metal. Things oxidize and rust and waste away. Don’t be dumb. Leave a piece of tat if it calls for it.

Hope this helps someone! I’m so excited to be part of the PNW climbing community and get giddy just thinking of all the potential around here. Thank you for welcoming me home with open arms (and a little tough love) North Cascades.