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Rocking Around Leavenworth

July 1974

Saturday morning, July 20, was beautiful, and I was up early to enjoy it. I coaxed Rudi out of the sack, so he could cook breakfast. While Rudi and I ate, Chris said, "Maybe I'll see you later." Chris was feeling down. Rudi and I started out slowly in the morning sun. As we cleared a Larch covered knoll, the view started to form. Mount Rainier was visible far to the south, and the Flagpole Needles looked impressive. I applied a little Clown White grease paint to my face before we climbed a rock slide to the crest of McClellan Ridge. Rudi had second thoughts after seeing the exposure to the southeast; and for good reason. The impressive monolith to our right was marked number one in the guide. I called it The Rook because it sat on the end of the Chessmen Traverse. I changed shoes, and climbed with my eyes. As I got closer, I found that my eyes were bigger than my ability. Around on the south side there was a head bone counterforce boulder move. The rest was easy.

I licked my lips as I looked east down the ridge at the rest of the Chessmen Traverse; tower after tower of luscious granite, just waiting to be conquered. While going back down the Rook, I decide to do the whole true traverse and stay loyal with the line. I wanted to stick to the skyline, and I did. As I strolled out on an arete, Rudi said "no way." I decided that Rudi didn't have any confidence that I had in my PA climbing shoes. I continued over some pawns. Number two was a pawn, and number three was an easy Bishop with a tricky friction move at the top. "This is too easy", I complained. "Let's try a harder route", I said boldly. We roped up at the foot of number four. I was slightly surprised that I was leading. I named it statuesque crag The Queen, and started in the middle of the face. After five feet, I was forced right. Then I led five up, and five right again. The zigzag route created a hellish rope drag that was almost impossible. Close to the corner, I managed to tug up ten feet of rope. I placed my sixth and final nut from my rack and then tried to pull myself up on an oblong chicken head. Just as I put my weight on the Chicken head, it pulled off. I fell back from the wall and was caught by the Number six stopper and Rudi's dynamic belay. I totally freaked out, and then with nerves shaking, aided back down a few moves. I was so uncomfortable that I wanted Rudi to lower me all the way back down the face. But, Rudi convinced me it was easier to the left. The fall humbled me and leveled off my recent escalation of boldness. I belayed Rudi up. Up on the top, we ate our lunch in the lee of the summit cone.

From our lunch spot, we had a view of McClellan Peak. I looked for Chris. While eating, I planned a flick, but then Rudi wouldn't stand on the top of the summit cone for my composition. He offered me the chance to pose. But, when I tried to stand on the pointed cone, I too chose not the limelight of modeling. We rappelled down from the Queen, and I then pulled the rope through. Toward the top of number five, I had to stop and think it out. I finally figured it out, and stood on top. I thought that number five was The King, seeing as it was next to The Queen. However, the guide called it The Knight. While looking down the ridge, I picked out Chris's red parka, high on the west side of McClellan Peak. He was coming back toward us and I waved, but there was no response. From the top of number five, I looked across Chessmen Notch, and thought number six was definitely a Bishop. The overhanging mushroom shaped top added to its character. The ledges on the south side of number five were down climbed without rope. Rudi found an overhanging boulder move that was fun.

We passed through the Chessmen Notch, and then followed ledges on the north side. As the ledges faded, I was forced up a chimney. The stemming was hard with a pack. As I struggled with the crux section, I knew that I should have been roped. When I was almost to the ridge crest, my ice axe became jammed. I pulled and scraped, and with an exhausting effort, frantically made it to the top. I threw the rope to Rudi, and pulled his pack up first. We scrambled up the east side of number six to the brim. We roped, and I checked out the East Ridge. It looked too hard, so I stepped around on a sloping table on the north side. The lichen formations on the sloping table were as big as my hand. It must have taken hundreds of years for the lichen to grow that big. I felt a tinge of guilt as the black brittle plants crunched under the smooth soles of my climbing shoes. To my right the lower edge of the table dropped into an unseen abyss, whose only visual limit was the forest floor of Tanglewood; thousands of feet below. The west arête had good holds, but there was no place for protection; and the exposure was way too much. I flashed on an idea used on the first ascent of Prusik Peak. The early climbers had flipped the rope over the top. I flipped the rope, asked Rudi for tension and then went up to the top. I anchored the rope, and Rudi came up hand over hand. The heat, lack of water and the stress of danger had finally worn Rudi down. He had had enough, and Rudi said that he was going back to camp. I told him the rest of the traverse was just an easy scramble. But, Rudi wasn't buying it; his mind was set. I decided that I would go on with the traverse alone. So, Rudi rapped down to the east into Chessman Notch, and I then went down the west side. I easily re-crossed the sloping table and ran into Chris who had just arrived from his westbound traverse. We exchanged experiences and tried to out brag each other. Chris consciously edged out on the sloping table, and I casually strolled around him to show off were I went up. I offered Chris a belay over the top. But, he waved it off. We watched Rudi complete a long fast glissade that stretched nearly down to Troll Sink. I left Chris in indecision on the south slope of the Bishop, and then scrambled down the ridge heading for McClellan Peak.

The ridge was flat until I came to Pawn number seven. I followed Chris's instructions and did the tricky mantel move. At the next minor bump on the ridge, I swung up to the top to keep in style of the true traverse. I left my pack, and headed up McClellan Peak. I tried for a no hands ascent, but I blew it as I neared the top. I scrambled to the top on all fours, and then signed into the summit register. The view down the Snow Creek drainage was educational. It was interesting to note that lower Snow Lake drained east and flowed around a hill. While Upper Snow Lake, with the aid of the Leavenworth Fish Hatchery aqueduct, drained to Nada Lake. The waters of both Snow Lakes merged anew on the slope below Nada Lake, and were then swung north by the barrier of Wedge Mountain. The shadow of McClellan Peak was moving across Snow Lakes. I went down and picked up my pack. I carefully down climbed a gully of loose rock until I reached the snow just west of The Prong. I followed some goat tracks out onto the snow. The snow was firm and smooth and the glissade was great.

When I reached Leprechaun Lake, Chris was just ahead of me. At camp dinner was prepared. To me the ritual of savoring my meager ration of food had become accepted. I tried to feel satisfied with the food. But, usually I filled myself with a large helping of the enchanted surroundings and the accomplishment of the day's events.

Sunday morning dawned clear and sunny, and I declared it a day of rest. I slept in, and then I lie in my bag and read I'm OK Your OK. Rudi said that he was going to Prusik Pass, and then he left. Most of the day, I sat out in the sun and sewed my pants. The wool had easily worn through long before. I used the large patch of cloth backed Vinyl on the seat. Chris read and basked. We did some bouldering on Leprechaun Rock. We heard shouts from Prusik Peak, but we couldn't figure out who it was. I sewed my knickers, and finished as Rudi came back. Rudi told us of his climb of Prusik Peak. We played "one thousand questions", and found he had tied into a party that climbed the West Ridge of Prusik Peak. I felt extremely jealous. I tried to mask my jealousy with disbelief. But, it was without success. That night I was kept awake by the sunburn on the tops of my feet. Twice during the night I applied ointment.

In the morning I fought to sleep in. I eventually lost; my feet drove me out. Later, Chris and I moseyed off to Temple Ridge. We got some close views of the Boxtop. We took separate routes while scrambling toward the High Priest. I took a high route, and got out on some exposed slabs. I made a few risky moves, and then I got caught. I froze, and called for Chris. I managed to thaw after not hearing from Chris. I found a crack and went straight up to the ridge crest. I moved easily on the top of the ridge until I came to the west face of Hepzibah Blop. Chris answered when I called this time, and he soon appeared on the top of The Blop. Chris threw down the rope and belayed me as I climbed up the West Face.

We traversed to the High Priest. I led Chris to the descent route I had used four days before on the seventeenth. When we stood on the summit of the High Priest, a harsh wind told of a coming change in the weather. The clouds soon engulfed Dragontail Peak, and then the wind increased. We revised our plans, and dismissed the climb of Mount Temple. We decided to rappel back down, and I remembered the hole in the table. After close inspection of the hole, we decided not to use it as an anchor. We then descended to the chock stone. The wind was strong enough to straighten out my white rappelling sling. I climbed down onto the large stone and set the sling. I only had to flip the sling halfway around, and the wind did the rest. I used a brake bar, and went down first. While waiting for Chris, I tried to get out of the wind. After Chris landed, I pulled the rope through. Chris told me that when I was rappelled down he heard the chock stone creak. We headed down in the howling wind. We looped around the outlet of Lake Viviane, and ran into another party. At camp, Rudi said that my tent blew over twice. I re-staked my tent, and added larger anchor rocks. After dinner, sleep was difficult due to the flapping of the tent.

The morning was calm, and the "skidoos" was out. After in early breakfast, Rudi and I headed toward Prusik Pass. Rudi complained how boring it was traveling the same route. From the pass we strolled left, and unhurriedly gained the plateau. I picked an unknown plant, and chewed on the root. Rudi and I tried others, but they were all bitter. At the southeast point of the plateau we stopped for jelly and pilot bread. The resident marmot watched. We climbed up to Enchantment Peak, and roped up for the South Face route. Rudi led to the top, and then I followed. A long pole marked the top. The view was alright. "Let's do another traverse." We roped up, and I frictioned out to the "fingernail" of the Enchanted Finger. On Dwarves Tower here was an exposed traverse and an open book. In the book a vain of quartz crystals made it interesting. The impressive summit block had an easy side. Rudi scrambled down and around to retrieve the sacks. I hauled my pack. I continued the traverse, and climbed the northwest Dwarf solo. Getting back down to Rudi, at the base of Dwarf number two, was hard. We pulled out the rope, and then I led up a vertical open book. I placed a lot of protection. On the top I straddled a flake, and then belayed Rudi up. We rappelled off with a summit sling. We headed back to camp by dropping straight down around Talisman and Rune Lakes. While coursing into camp, I felt satisfied for another day. While cooking up another small dinner, we talked about leaving early. We cannibalized a breakfast to augment the dinner. Rudi and Chris admitted that they were tired of The Enchantments. They complained about the mosquitoes and the same view everyday. I was not tired, but disappointed to be leaving early. I couldn't understand how anyone could be tired of The Enchantments. We were not getting along.

On Wednesday morning I silently packed my day sack, and headed for the Valkyrie. I dropped around Crystal Lake, and then switchbacked up to the top of Little Annapurna. It was a long way down to Ingalls Creek. I traversed to the Witches Tower. I left my ice axe on the snow, and climbed the lose rocks and blocks on the east side of the Tower. Near the summit I ate lunch, and watched some climbers on the Enchantment Plateau. After eating, I scrambled to the top the Witches Tower and looked down. A strong wind blew up over Aasgard Pass. I decided not to re-climb Dragontail Peak, so I scrambled down and grabbed my T-bird ice axe. After I picked a safe glissade route, I was quickly standing near Mist Pond on Aasgard Pass. I turned and slowly walked down through The Valkyrie. I spotted a marmot, and tried to imitate his high pitched call. The marmot and I whistled back and forth for a long time.

I strolled down through The Valkyrie, and reminisced on the visit of '64. While passing between Reginleif and Freya lakes, I remembered the small delicate flowers that I had avoided ten years before. The flowers were now somewhere beneath the shrinking layer of snow. I picked up the beaten path, and I recited the lake names as I passed: Sigrun; Olrun; Ladgunn; Brasingamen. I looked down through the lakelets and saw no other person. My pace was slow and I thought the deep thoughts that come with solitude. While going down the familiar route, I found it hard to be bored. As I passed Sprite Lakelet, I noticed how it had thrown off winter. At the outlet that was earlier a muffled snow covered stream was now a babbling brook that pranced amongst heather draped humps. I was truly enchanted by Magic Meadow.

When I arrived at camp, I found a lot of people. Chris and Rudi were bouldering on Leprechaun Rock with some of the young men. I was introduced to the leader named Barney. Barney said that he would have climbed with me. Chris told me that Barney would lead us up Prusik Peak, and I was overjoyed. Rudi signaled me, and we talked privately about charity. The mosquitoes were thick, and I used a lot of repellant. I gave away most of the bottle. I made another horrible batch of pasta. We ate it all, and then ate two more helpings from our visitor's pot. While I was stuffing my face, I learned that the group was from Langley B.C. Barney's assistant, a bearded science teacher, told how he hoped that the course would stimulate interest in life; and thus stimulate interest in learning. Barney said that the course was funded by Poppy School in Langley. I was so bloated from eating that I had to go lay down in my tent. Rudi got me up to have some mint tea. The tea was rich with sugar, and it tasted very good. I slept very well.

I was up with the sun, in anticipation of the Prusik Peak climb. We ate and then headed out. Earlier, when I found that Rudi had climbed Prusik Peak, I had a dream. Now, as we reached Prusik Pass, it was like a dream come true. At the pass I changed my shoes and stashed my sac. Barney and I tied into his short rope, and Rudi led Chris on the other rope. Short easy leads led to the five seven crux move. Barney smoothly moved up the steep sloping slab with small holds. I stopped in the middle of the crux because I stepped too high. However, Barney's hints pointed to the small intermediate nubbins. The move was thrilling in that balance was critical in maintaining the friction. I belayed for Rudi, and then led through a hole that came out on a table. Barney led across an exposed arete. At the summit block, Barney offered me the lead, and I swung up a crescent shaped flake. After rounding a corner, I choose the easy chimney on the right, and then stemmed up to the summit. I set a nut anchor, and belayed Barney up. I threw the rope down to Rudi, and he did the five seven chimney. Chris aided the chimney after trying for awhile. Barney yodeled and then waved to his group who were over on the upper Enchantment Plateau. I looked out over the Enchantments and thought how great it was to have made it to the top. It was the perfect way to cap off our two week adventure.

We rappelled down the north face, and got into some hairy down climbing. When we reached the snow, we traversed back to the pass. I reaffirmed that snow and PAs don't mix. At the pass we found chocolate that was surrounded by snow. Barney was pleased, and he told us that this is what he was trying to do. The extra effort to carry up the snow was the type of thing he was trying to teach. While going back down, we noticed some climbers on the south face of Prusik Peak. We watched until the mosquitoes got too thick, and then we moved to a new position. We agreed that we would go down Snow Creek tomorrow. I was sad to let go of the feeling that I had while on the Lost World Plateau.

Down at camp, we had a satisfying meal. The friendship bonded by the climb uncovered many stories, and we were up late listening and spinning.

I slept in, and awoke barely in time to say goodbye to the Langley-ites. We packed up without breakfast. Rudi left first, and I watched Chris pack. I strolled down to the outlet of Lake Viviane, and then sat in the sun to bid farewell to the Enchantment Lakes Basin. While I sat, Chris went passed. But, I passed him later, as he was putting on his shorts. Going down Sylvester high route is not like a stride out trail. The steep path is more like a series of sandy terraces cut by short cliffs. My bent frame Cruiser held up well, except for a clevis pin retaining ring. At the creek crossing below the falls, the clevis pin popped out. I put the pin back in and continued down to Camp Disenchantment. I passed two people coming up. I remembered seeing one of them at castle Rock. I remembered because he had PAs. The fast march around Snow Lake was quickly forgotten after the refreshing barefooted dam crossing. After the crossing, I climbed back into the rented boots and fixed breakfast. I ate granola, and talked with a bearded, guitar carrying, apple picker.

I made a brief stop at Nada Lake, and then continued hiking down to five mile bridge. I waited for Chris, and cooked another breakfast. Chris was far behind, and I dozed. When Chris finally arrived I told him about the clevis pin I had lost. A moment after I told him, I found another clevis pin retaining ring at my feet. We trucked down the trail together. The sun had left the valley when we reached the Cedar Grove Camp. We talked with some campers at the bottom on the switchbacks. Chris and I found Rudi and the Langley-ites at the Wall Camp. We eagerly accepted and then drank their sweet mint tea. A climbing boulder was discovered across Snow Creek, and then Chris reaffirmed his increasingly proficient climbing skills. We kept our record clean, and did not turn down another dinner invitation. After eating the filling pasta meal, Barney told stories: Climbing on Squamish Chief; Swimming the Frazer River; Malibu Traverse. We stayed up late. Chris and I ate another dinner before we went to bed. During the night the noisy resident rat initiated a relocation of the cooking gear.

On Sunday morning I awoke in time to say good bye to Barney and the Science Teacher. I poked my head out of the tent, and watched them run off down the trail. After breakfast, it was a slow dusty walk to Icicle Creek. At the creek crossing I dunked my head to cool off. We loaded up the Cortina and then drove down to Leavenworth for milk shakes. While going back through Tumwater Canyon, we had to stop and watched the climbers on Castle Rock.

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