I’ve been a bit quiet as I’ve been working hard preparing for my PhD defense, which was on Tuesday. The good news—I passed! To celebrate, I want to tell you about a great trip I did with Austin, Matt, Becca, and Eric over Labor Day weekend. We completed the Tantalus Traverse, a north-to-south traverse over the Tantalus Range, a rugged part of the Coast Mountains in British Columbia right next to Squamish. Despite being only an hour or so from Vancouver, the Tantalus Range feels quite wild, rising straight from sea level to over 2,500 meters before dropping right back down on the other side. Surrounded by fjords, Tantalus has intrigued me for a long time, and one gets a great view of it every time you drive down the Sea to Sky from Whistler. Looking at maps, the extent of the wilderness in the Coast Mountains also captures my imagination: heading north from Tantalus, the Coast Mountains stretch for nearly 500 miles to the Alaskan border, and by my count there are only three highways in that entire stretch.
We thought there was a chance we could pull off the traverse in 2 days, but we brought 2.5 days worth of food in case we needed to camp a second night, which, it turns out, we did!
We drove up from Seattle and camped nearby for an early (or just earlier) start, which was still slow with some faffing setting up the car shuttle. We started up the Sigurd Creek trail a bit before 10am, climbing through steep forest for a few miles before crossing Sigurd Creek. The old bridge had washed out years earlier, so the four of us where about to pull our shoes to wade through the calf-deep water, but Matt, ever the construction manager, dragged a log out of the woods and threw it across the creek to make a rickety bridge.
Crossing Sigurd Creek on Matt’s makeshift bridge.
On the far side of the creek, we followed the trail for a bit further until it busted out of the treeline and crossed the lateral moraine coming down from the nameless (?) glacier on the north side of Ossa Mountain. We climbed up the moraine, and then up easy slabs, and a bit of mellow glacier, before crossing the north shoulder of Pelion Mountain, where we were rewarded with our first views of Tantalus herself, shrouded mysteriously in swirling clouds. We descended more slabs, snow patches, and talus to reach the high ridge linking Pelion to Tantlus, where we picked up a climber’s trail through lovely heather. We continued a bit past the low point on the ridge (Tantalus/Pelion col) before deciding to camp at a lovely tarn just below the ridgecrest.
Becca descending from the shoulder of Pelion, with Tantalus shrouded in clouds.
Slab scampering towards the Tantalus/Pelion col, with Tantalus lurking.
We took a quick dip in the tarn and had a lovely evening hanging out at camp and watching the sunset. The views were amazing, even if we couldn’t actually see the true summit of Tantalus, which was hidden behind a subsummit at the end of the long North Ridge. The next morning, we got up at first light and got off not too much later, continuing along the climbers trail and staying below the ridge crest on the west side to bypass two little bumps before regaining the ridge at the northernmost margin of the Rumbling Glacier.
Pelion looking pretty in the morning light.
Matt and Austin at our camp, with the summits of Garibaldi Park glowing in the slightly smoky sunrise.
Mount Tantalus and the quasi-detached northernmost lobe of the Rumbling Glacier. This isn’t even the true summit of Tatnlus, just the northernmost end of the mile-long North Ridge.
Leaving camp with Pelion in the sun in the background.
We climbed up the glacier, weaving carefully through late-season cracks and a ‘schrund to get back on the rock. A few dozen meters of loose but easy rock led to a ~2,100 meter notch at the north end of the North Ridge, and here we crossed back on to the west side of the range, staying low on easy snow for about 1/3 of a mile to bypass some rock. This snow led easily back to the ridge crest at about 2,200 feet, where we got on the North Ridge in earnest. The half mile or so of ridge was delightful, mostly easy and beautifully exposed scrambling, right on the ridge crest, with a few thoughtful spots bypassing a handful of notches, minor gendarmes, and snow patches.
Austin climbing up easy snow on the west side of the North Ridge, with Ossa and Pelion in the background.
The North Ridge stretching onwards to Tantalus’ summit, with the gorgeous Rumbling Glacier on the left. Spot Austin on the ridge crest at the bottom of the frame.
Two strategies for bypassing a snow patch: Becca, the rock climber, elegantly takes the snow, while Austin, the ice climber, grovels in the moat.
This first stretch of ridge went fairly quickly, and before long, the summit of Tantalus was looking much closer. At around 2,400 meters, 200 meters below the summit, the Rumbling Glacier rises all the way to the ridge crest, inserting two short sections of snow and ice into our path to the summit. The first one was pretty easy to cross with a not-too-bad moat and gentle snow, but the second one was quite a bit steeper, with a deep and wide moat at this point in the season (early September). Here we whipped out the rope, belayed folks across a nubbin of snow that bridged the moat. We climbed up the steep snow back to the ridge crest, got back onto the rock on the far side without much trouble, and climbed some steep and dirty but easy rock to surmount the next step on the ridge. From there, it was easy and beautifully exposed scrambling to hit the standard ascent route (and rap anchors) just below the summit, which we scrambled up to at 14:00, 6.5 hours from camp.
Eric crossing the deep moat to get onto the Rumbling Glacier
Becca on some amazing exposed (but easy) scrambling close to the summit of Tantalus. Alpha Mountain at left.
Eric just below the summit of Tantalus, with Serratus behind him and Alpha at left. The party of the three on the snow is the only other group we saw on the whole traverse. They climbed Dionne.
Cognizant that we still had a long way to go, we started our descent, downclimbing past several rap stations and making a total of four rappels with a single 60 meter rope. With five people in the group and only one rope, this part was definitely slow, but the views were amazing, particularly the incredible Witch’s Tooth spire.
Matt setting up a rappel in front of the Witch’s Tooth.
After doing a bit more downclimbing to reach the snow, we continued along the ridge on easier terrain. I got my hopes up that it would be quick going from here all the way to the Haberl hut, but we had to do some more loose downclimbing to reach the Dione Glacier. Once on the glacier, it was only about 1.5 miles to the hut, but with lots small ups and downs, this part dragged a bit. We finally reached the hut at 19:00, only an hour before sunset, and with 7,000 vertical feet of nontrivial descending remaining, it became pretty clear we were going to be camping for a second night. We faffed around a bit looking for a descent camp site, and found one with running water not too far from the hut. Just as the sun dropped below the horizon, it started raining torrentially, and thankfully the downpour stopped as quickly as it started, which was a relief. None of us were looking forward to the prospect of spending a rainy night in our bivies. The excitement for the evening wasn’t over, however, as a thunderstorm formed in the dark and rolled over the area, with a few roars of thunder that felt right over head. We watched with sympathy the headlamps of a party descending Serratus in the dark, rainy, and lightning-studded night. There were a few more brief showers, but thankfully it never really rained too much more. We woke up the next morning, slightly soggy, and packed off for our last push down to the Squamish River, far below.
Eric above the Dione Glacier, which we are about to descend to.
Becca and I in our homemade camping quilts the morning after the thunderstorm.
From camp, we set off traversing around the west side of Serratus, making our way towards the key col immediately south of Serratus that would let us descend to the east towards Lake Lovely Water. The going was never too difficult, but with lots of exposed ice and rock slabs, there were many crampon-on crampon-off transitions which made for slow going. Eventually we reached the notch (and the warming rays of the morning sun) and were faced with one last steep snow descent that posed more of a challenge to the less surefooted among us.
Eric looking small as he traverses above exposed ice on the southwest side of Serratus.
Austin and Matt descending steep snow on the west side of the range, with Lydia, Pandareus, and Ionia Mountains (from left to right, far to near) across the Crescent Glacier.
Below the notch, more slabs and some easy snow led us to the steep heather slopes that descend to the valley bottom. We walked/plunged/tumbled down the heather, hand-over-handing down brush at times, and did a touch more downclimbing and talus hopping to finally reach the valley floor in a hanging basin at 1,400 meters or so. On the far side of the basin we picked up the blazed and easy-to-follow trail down to Lambda Lake, and then down to the steep shore of Lake Lovely Water, which is aptly named. The lake is huge and gorgeous, and Matt and Becca were thrilled to take a quick swim before the descent to the Squamish River.
Becca descending a particularly steep, muddy, and brushy section of vegetation.
Matt emerging like a swamp creature from Lake Lovely Water. Lydia, Pandareus, and Ionia across the lake.
From Lake Lovely Water, we had merely to follow the trail down 3,700 vertical feet in under 3 miles to the Squamish River. The trail follows the lake outlet creek, which is essentially a continuous series of cascades all the way down to sea level, surrounded by classic lush PNW forest. It was a beautiful ambiance, even if many of us were ready to be done at this point. But we weren’t done, we had one final challenge: to cross the wide Squamish River in order to get back to our car. Our plan was to haul ourselves along the cable for the Water Survey of Canada cable car, which is a classic way to finish a Tantalus traverse. Matt and Austin had gone on a few minutes ahead, and by the time we reached the riverbank, we couldn’t see them anywhere. We did, however, hear plenty of shrieks of entertainment/horror, and we bashed through the brush to the edge of the river and looked up to find them both clipped to the cable, 50 feet above the river, swinging back and forth comedically. It was awesome to watch them struggle as we knew that we would soon be in their position. Becca and I clipped in to the cable and made our way across with Eric as the boys went ahead to get the car. It was an exhausting, hilarious, and memorable way to finish a great trip.
Lovely cascades along the Lake Lovely Water outlet.
Matt and Austin, high above the Squamish River, swaying back and forth as they attempt to cross the cable to the far side.