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IBEXtrax.com - Cascade Mountains of Washington StateNorth Cascades Park |
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As we sat on the barren moraine and munched Granola bars, the sun left the valley of Luna Creek. A chilling wind persuaded us to move along. Just north of the moraine we found some mysterious sunken snow holes. We climbed up a slide track and then ascended a major ramp that conveniently led through the cliffs. Half way up the ramp, we dropped around another spectacular waterfall. Near the top of the ramp, we cut up through the trees and then over rock. As the setting sun turned Luna Peak pink, we climbed up the open snow slopes of challenger arm. At the first possible tarp site, we deposited our packs and then climbed higher in search of a better spot.
The best spot was found at the 6,000 foot level. It had been a hard day and it showed when John and I were sucked into disagreement over sleeping spots. The echo of falling ice thundered around Luna Cirque as we ate a solemn dinner. For the first time in three nights I slept soundly in the absence of hanging ice or teetering rocks above my head.
We were graced with another cloudless sunny morning on the fifteenth.
After breakfast, we stuff the nine millimeter rope and the half rack of Hexcentric chocks into a pack and then went off to climb Mount Challenger. We kicked out a reusable track to the crest of Challenger Arm. We rested on the last rock outcrop before the glacier and drank and talked. John led up to the bergschrund and then walked over it unroped. We tied into the rope after stopping between some large crevasses. We skirted a large crack in the saddle, and then climbed steep snow. Just below the false summit we traversed on ice and rock.
04 069 Warren leads on the Challenger Glacier (180k)
The principal feature of Mount Challenger is that it holds the largest glacier in this area of the North Cascades. The broad glacier, on the North slope of the summit crest (4 km wide), is a result of a high sloping N-facing rock plateau in a heavy snow belt. Henry Custer's journal from the First International Boundary survey in 1859, describes a large glacier wall of solid pure ice on a mountain the Indians called "Wailagonahoist".
04 073 Warren on the summit of Mt Challenger (152k)
The summit of Mt Challenger is the culmination of an impressive cliff structure that climbs in crescendo from Phantom Peak. Some have called it the Northern Bastion of the Picket Range.
04 074 Crooked Thumb with Mt Baker Mt Shuksan Mt Ruth (227k)
From the summit of Mount Challenger, the view to the West is over the top of Crooked Thumb Pk, and beyond to the cone of Mt Baker and the blocky massif of Mount Shuksan. Mt Shuksan has no equal in the Cascade Range when one considers the structural beauty of its four major faces and five ridges. There is no other sample in the American West of great icefall glaciers derived from a high plateau. North Cascades 7/76
04 075 John B raps off Mt Challenger Mt Baker Mt Shuksan (165k)
After the successful ascent of Mount Challenger, the Climbers descended by means of repel. The repel was set on the shear North Face of the summit spire by looping nylon webbing around the rock horn at the top. The climbing rope was threaded through the sling to double the rope and a figure eight friction device or break is used on the descent. In the end, the rope is pulled through, leaving the nylon sling on the summit.
04 076 John B on Challenger Gl Wiley Lk High Route beyond (246k)
On the descent of the Challenger Glacier and the return to Challenger Arm, the Climbers paused to check out the Wiley Lake High Route. The plan was to use the Wiley Lk High Route as an exit route from the Picket Range. This most common approach for Mount Challenger and the Northern Pickets, extending from near Beaver Pass and affords the easiest going on bench and meadow South (right) of the crest. NCNP 7/76
04 077 Crooked Thumb Mt Challenger above Challenger Arm (168k)
The serrated crest of the Northern Picket Range ascends from the South to culminate at the needle-like summit of Mount Challenger. The peak with the long snow patch on its East face is Phantom Pk and the summit with the tilted tower on the top is Crooked Thumb Pk. The point just South of Crooked Thumb Peak is Ghost Peak. The alp-slope of Challenger Arm (foreground) splits the Challenger Glacier ice flow. NCNP 7/76
John set up a belay at the base of the summit block, and then I climbed up past some fixed pins. Just to say that I carried all those chocks all that way for a reason, I place the largest number ten jam nut before I left the difficult climbing. John came up and then we scramble to the top. We read the registered and absorb the view. The south face looked like a good climb. We eased back down an exposed slab and then rigged a rappel. The rope pulled through without a hitch. After tying back into the rope, we follow the Challenger Glacier crest back down to the saddle. We followed our tracks down the soft snow until we re-crossed the bergschrund. We then unroped and struck out for camp on a B-line. When we reached the tarp we packed up our gear.
We retraced the pre-made track to the crest of Challenger Arm, and then contoured around the Challenger Glacier. After passing into the shadow of Peak 7304, I rested on a rock and waited for John to coil the rope. I offered John my resting rock and then led up the steep snow gully. The gully topped out at 7,000 feet on a broad plateau located a quarter mile east of Peak 7374. We passed a good campsite, but then turn around later to go back. We decided not to set the tarp due to the cloudless sky. We sat on a lichen encrusted boulder, smeared on bug repellent and talked while we absorbed the last rays of the setting sun. When John returned from getting water, he told of a hair raising downhill chase of a runaway pan. We cannibalized one of the dinners and produced a big filling meal. John thought we were not getting along that well. I told him that my quiet nature didn't mean that I was unhappy. We talked it out and found a better understanding. As I lay in my sleeping bag watching the stars, I was distracted by a faint band of light that moved across the northern sky. It was the first time I'd seen such a displayed, but I knew that it must be the Aurora Borealis. John and I watched for a long long time as the luminous streamers of green and blue moved across the northern sky with varying intensity.
I looked out through the mosquito netting at another cloudless morning, and just before I was roasted out of my sleeping bag, I got up. After breakfast and packing, we headed out the Wiley Lake high route. Our route dropped below ice covered Wiley and Eiley Lakes. After climbing over the top of Peak 6955 or 6984, we hiked along the ridge crest and enjoyed the pleasures of ridge running. The views to the north of Mount Redoubt were fantastic. The Wiley Lake high route is said to reveal the Frosting of the North Cascades. And what a delicious and creamy taste it is.
We dropped off the ridge too early and paid for it when we encountered some tricky gullies. We regained the ridge crest at the end of the ridge and then enjoyed a glissade down good snow. As we descended toward Beaver Pass we picked our way down on receding snow patches that gave way to small evergreens. We moved left and crossed a creek. Then the battle started as I bulled my way through some vine maple. We thundered down through the brush and didn't let up until we reached the open forest of Beaver Pass. As we wove through some Devil's Club, I notice that the bugs were thickening. I began to think that we had somehow passed over the Big Beaver trail when we found the trail.
We followed the fresh tracks on the trail until we stopped at the first water. We made it a major rest stop and washed off the fur needles and twigs that we had collected on the brush fighting descent. While the mint tea brewed, I slipped into fresh sox to prepare for the foot eating trail ahead. It was nine miles to Thirty Nine Mile Camp. So, John led down from the pass with the goal of three miles per hour. We flew past the Beaver Pass Shelter at a good clip, and then from that brief glimpse I got of it, it looked in good shape. In the first few miles of the trail, we descended to the valley floor via a long series of switchbacks. Where the trail passed through an open meadow, we saw the first person we had seen in seven days. He was a solo hiker from back east. I stopped and looked up Luna Creek at the cirque we had crossed three days before.
I felt proud that I had seen more than this meager view. We passed another solo hiker who asked if we were going to Luna Camp. We answered no and moved on. We soon passed Luna Camp and then a separate horse camp. All the foot pounding was getting to be a drag. I made a slight mistake and told John about my "Tail-gate-phobia" and then he over reacted. John dropped way back. So, with a feeling of mischief, I sprung around after a long straight and yelled back at John, "I see you." We both laughed. The seemingly endless trail wore on and on. But, we finally reached Ten Mile Shelter.
We met a young ranger that was watering some of the plants in a reforestation area near the shelter. He seemed surprised when we told him where we had been. Initially he was concerned. But, he was relieved to see our short Sumner Ice axes when we turned. Throughout the whole conversation with the ranger, he used a crushing brushing rhythm against the swarming mosquitoes. I was amazed he was wearing shorts. The Ten Mile Shelter was still standing when we left, but I felt that it would go the way of other old shelters like it and be destroyed by defensive over use tactics use by the Park Service. Another half mile down the trail, we turn down at the sign that marked Thirty Nine Mile Camp. The camp was one of the new park service camps with isolated camps set in thick second growth timber. We picked one of the camping units, and then I went to find a place to soak my sore feet. My feet felt much better after I numbed them in the cold creek water. John found me and we walked back to camp with full water bottles. We could do nothing but laze around the camp and try to find enough energy to eat after the thirteen mile day. I finally cooked dinner. I used my mosquito net to find sleep, but I didn't need it.
We got up early and hit the trail before the sun filtered through the trees. It was Twelve miles to Ross Dam. So, we started out at a good fast pace. The trail skirted a meadow area that was flooded by a beaver dam. We found fresh deer tracks on the trail. John increase his speed and I tried to keep up for only a short distance. I settled into an easier pace and watched the miles go by. Before I expected it, we arrived at the new bridge over the mouth of Big Beaver Creek on Ross Lake. John tried his fishing skills in the too fast water, while I picked and ate salmon berries along the bank. I started up the trail while John stowed his fishing gear. I met an elderly couple that I talked with. I find that I always walk away with a good feeling when I talk to people who have found wisdom through experience. We climbed the switchbacks and then crossed Pierce creek at a deep gorge. The trail leveled off and traversed semi open slopes above Ross Lake. The lake had not turned milky blue yet due to the heavy snow pack that still lay in the Picket Range. Soon after we pass the cut off to Sourdough Lookout, we searched out a shady rest spot to escape from the hot sun.
Just before we reached the Green Point camp, we came upon a small black bear. The bear ran across the trail and then disappeared into the brush above. We picked the right trail at the resort and then continued down to Ross Dam. The dam was as big as I'd heard it was. After crossing over the top of the dam, I was almost blown over by the strong gust that roared over the south side of the dam. I followed John up an abandon construction road. We were literally turned around by two beautiful girls. The young heroines led us back to the trail we had passed, and then they disappeared up the trail with a lingering display of long tanned legs and tight white short shorts. We took a rest stop in a cool alcove that held a small creek. I met a friend, I had met at Boeing, as I walked up to the crowded parking lot. John changed into some clothes that he had stashed in the car, while I sat on the fin of his 59 Chevy and took in all the activity of the parking lot.
We drove over the North Cascades highway, picked up two Wenatchee bound hitchhikers, and then stopped in Twisp for hot Fudge Sundaes. We drove on through the Methow and then past Chelan. We dropped the hitchhikers in east Wenatchee. The Columbia Hotel Buffet was closed. So, we settled for pizza before cruising to Leavenworth. We turned up the Icicle Creek Road and then ended up sleeping under the stars at the familiar Bruce's Boulder Camp. After breakfast in Leavenworth, we spent half the day watching a kayak competition on the Wenatchee River. When we left it looked like the river was winning. We met Lee Moyer who had led me down my first kayak river trip. We headed back over Stevens Pass feeling satisfied and inspired by all we had seen and the experience we had gained in the past week.
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