Trip Report: Midweek Sunset in the Tatoosh

Just before winter arrived I snuck out for a midweek sunset trip to the Tatoosh, just south of Mount Rainier.

Sunset on Mount Rainier, with a frozen tarn in the foreground. I took this photo with my panoramic film camera on Ektar 100 film.

I left work after lunch and drove down to Mount Rainier National Park. With the Stevens Canyon Road already closed for the season, I brought along a bike for the short ride from the (open) road to Paradise. The road was icy and snowy in a few spots, but it only took a few minutes to ride down to Reflection Lakes. The skies were clear with some high clouds, and I hoped for a nice sunset.

A nice afternoon for riding a bike along the closed Stevens Canyon Road - and thanks Becca for letting me steal your bike!

At Reflection Lakes, I stashed the bike in the woods, the went down to the lake for a moment to enjoy the view - unfortunately, the one other party that was there had brought along their drone, which was not only annoying but also illegal.

Unicorn Peak and the rest of the Tatoosh, with the Goat Rocks and Mount Adams in the sun further south.

With the sunset coming up quickly, I started hiking up to the south. Once I reached the crest of the range, the views to the south were stunning, with lots of fresh snow in the Goat Rocks, and lovely views of Mount Adams. The southern aspects were bare, but north facing slopes held a foot or more of snow. It was fun looking over towards Unicorn Peak and the eastern part of the Tatoosh, where I had last been last winter during a fun ski traverse. I postholed down to a beautiful little alpine lake, and started snapping photos.

Mount Rainier above a frozen tarn in the Tatoosh. Note the Paradise Inn and Visitors Center in the distance.

A snowy scene around the lake outlet.

Panorama from above the lakeshore.

Cool patterns in the ice forming along the inlet stream.

As the sun set, the clouds to the west grew thicker, somewhat dampening the color in the sky. However, it was still a gorgeous evening, and I hung out until it was quite dark before hiking back down to the road. A few quick but chilly minutes of biking brought me back to my car, and I headed back home.

Trip Report: Early Season Skiing on Heliotrope Ridge

Last weekend, as one of the first big winter storms rolled through the Pacific Northwest, I wrangled up a big group of friends to head up to Mount Baker to soak in the moisture, and hopefully get a few skiing turns in. We were successful on both fronts!

Adam, Matt, and I left Seattle at a civilized hour, heading up to Bellingham to rendezvous with Pieter, Jackie, Camille, and Austin. Early that morning, Bellingham had received nearly 2 inches of rain in 2 hours, flooding Pieter’s basement and bringing down a small landslide in the city which closed I-5 for most of the day. A good pow omen.

The Heliotrope trailhead had only one other car there, a hiker who returned to the trailhead shortly after we started hiking. The trailhead was a solid 1,500 feet below the snowline, so we enjoyed intermittent rain showers as we strapped our skis to our packs and started hiking through the woods. Only the occasional glimpse of snowcovered trees higher up the ridge reminded us that skiing was a possibility, but, soon enough, we were hiking through a slushy inch or two of snow.

The gang starting up the trail.

We ditched our boots and started skinning pretty close to treeline, heading up through rocky terrain as we aimed for the permanent snow patches that abut the western edge of the Coleman Glacier. The occasional blast of strong winds and blowing snow kept us from overheating.

Matt picking the direct line as we skinned up towards the Coleman Glacier.

Eventually, we reached the edge of the permanent snow, which made for much easier skiing conditions. Up on the snowfield, the visibility was atrocious, with blowing clouds obscuring the views. Nonetheless, we were all in high spirits.

A brief moment of relatively good visibility below the snowfield.

Not much to see as we skinned up the snowfield.

We skinned to the top of the ridge circa 7,200 feet, and transitioned. The skiing on the glacier was pretty good, but the absolute whiteout made for entertaining skiing.

Eating lunch at the top of Heliotrope Ridge before transitioning to ski down.

Pieter demonstrating excellent white-out skiing technique on the snowfield.

Below the snowfield, the rocks and vegetation sticking out of the snow made for much better visual reference, and we all had a great time skiing as low as we possibly could, lack of snow notwithstanding.

Matt giving his skis a quick mid-descent rinse for maximum performance.

Eventually, though, all good things must come to an end, and we strapped our skis back on our packs for the hike back to the cars. Stoked for the coming season!

Hiking back out to the car.

Trip Report: a Three-part Weekend (Climbing, Biking, Hiking)

I’ve been too busy with work recently, but two weeks ago I got out with Becca, Adam, and Helene to celebrate all four of our October birthdays, with Matt joining for Sunday. We had perfect weather, and had a truly multisport weekend, starting with climbing on the Goat Wall, mountain biking up to Cooney Lake, and then I stayed out Sunday night while the others headed back to Seattle.

Becca and I drove over from Seattle on Saturday morning and linked up with Adam and Helene, who nicely stashed a vehicle at the top of the Goat Wall for us. We got a relaxed start climbing Prime Rib, an 11 pitch 5.9- fully bolted “alpine sport” climb. We were delighted to have the whole route to ourselves, and flew up it as two parties of two.

Becca following one of the lower pitches of Prime Rib, with beautiful fall colors in the Methow Valley below.

Becca leading P5 of Prime Rib.

Becca on P11, with Adam and Helene below.

Becca, Helene, and Adam at the top of Prime Rib, with the Gardners in the background.

At the top of the route, we enjoyed lovely views and sunshine before walking back to Adam’s van and heading in to Twisp to grab some groceries. We made a nice dinner before heading up to the Foggy Dew trailhead for the next day’s activities.

Having ridden the popular Angels Staircase loop a few years in a row, we were excited to try something a bit new, so we planned on a less popular ride in a similar area. Our plan was to head up the Foggy Dew trail to Cooney Lake, hike-a-bike up to Switchback, then ride down into Merchants’ Basin and back out Foggy Creek. However, climb up Foggy Dew was quite technical (much more challenging than the far more popular Martin Creek approach to Cooney Lake), and we made slower-than-anticipated progress. We decided to ditch the loop, and just ride up to the beautiful lake as an out-and-back. A bit underwhelming of a day, but everyone did a great job, and the ride back out was fast and fun!

Adam blasting through the larch forest next to Cooney Lake.

Helene and Adam cruising through gorgeous fall colors on the Foggy Dew trail.

After getting back to the trailhead and enjoying some freshly baked cookies (thanks, Adam!), I said farewell to everyone else, and drove back up to Rainy Pass. I hiked up to Heather Pass by headlamp, then continued on up to the summit of a nearby peak. Unfortunately, I was a bit too slow to catch a view of Comet Tsuchinshan–ATLAS, which had already set by the time I got out of the forest. However, I still had a pleasant night in my bivy.

Panorama with morning light on Black Peak. From left to right: Frisco, Glacier Peak and the southern Ptarmigan Traverse summits more glaciated in the distance (see below for a closer-view), Corteo, Black Peak, Arrive, Repulse, Fisher, Katsuk, and Mesahchie at far right.

Glacier Peak in the morning light.

Panorama with Glacier Peak, Agnes, Gunsight, Sinister, Dome, Spire Point, Old Guard, and Sentinel all visible.

Dome Peak and the Chickamin Glacier in the distance.

Larch and talus.

Beautiful colors below Heather Pass.

Lake Ann’s little island.

I packed up and quickly headed back down the trail, then back to Seattle. A really nice weekend with great people.

Trip Report: Fall Colors on the Stiletto Peak and Copper Pass Loop

Last week we gathered a big group of friends for a lovely mellow overnight near the Methow, where we’d been biking with our good friend Dunlin earlier in the week. I wanted to see some fall colors and avoid the crowds, and we ended up accomplishing both objectives! The five of (Adam, Alex, Helene, Dunlin, and myself) got a relaxed start on Saturday morning, flying past the chaos of the Blue Lake trailhead to park at the relatively empty PCT trailhead at Bridge Creek. On the drive up, we noticed quite a bit of fresh snow up high from the previous days’ storm, which I was excited about. We left the car at 10am and headed down the PCT for a few mins before crossing the creek and heading around the edge of the Blue Lake burn from last summer before catching the trail up to the old Stiletto lookout site.

Sunrise panorama on Sunday morning, with lots of North Cascades classics. From L-R: Bonanza, Bowan Mountain, Glacier Peak, McGregor, Dome Peak, Spite Point, Sentinel, and Old Guard.

We climbed up through the woods on many switchbacks, checking out all the different kinds of scat that Dunlin’s observant eyes noticed. After passing a few other folks, we reached the site of the old lookout, and had really stunning views in all directions. Dunlin brought a pair of binoculars, and we could see the absolute conga line of hikers on the trail up to Maple Pass—nice to avoid that!

Dunlin hanging out at the site of the old fire lookout, below Black Peak. Corteo at left and the Ragged Ridge at right, and notice the highway below.

After basking in the sun for a while, we headed east along some fading tread towards Stiletto’s West Ridge. We contoured through easy terrain around the south side of Stiletto, then dropped our packs and hopped talus up to the saddle between Stiletto and Jackknife Peak, to the east.

The group heading east past the lookout site, with Silver Star in the distance. The base of Stiletto’s West Ridge is at right.

As we started scrambling up the pleasant East Ridge of Stiletto, a pretty spirited snowball fight developed (I won’t tell who threw the first ball). It was a strong incentive to scramble first - the higher ground is a tactical advantage! We reached the summit of Stiletto without any challenges, and the views were great under overcast skies.

Looking down into larchy meadows from high on Stiletto.

We downclimbed and retrieved our packs, then continued through more open terrain with a discontinuous bootpath before finding a lovely spot to set up camp near the base of Jackknife’s South Ridge.

Helene traversing some slabs on our way to camp.

After setting up camp, we scrambled a few hundred feet up said South Ridge before finding a pleasant spot to hangout and watch the sunrise, which was somewhat subdued due to the overcast.

We headed back to camp by headlamp (well, not all of us used our headlamps - they give away your position, making you more vulnerable to snowballs), then made dinner and went to sleep.

The next morning, I got up as it was getting light, and traversed around the east side of Jackknife, climbing up above Stiletto Lake. The sky lit up with brilliant color, and I gleefully snapped away with my camera.

Sunrise panorama above Stiletto Lake. Switchblade Peak above the lake at left, with Gilbert Mountain below the sunrise, and the Twisp River valley just to the right. Lincoln Butte and Crescent Mountain are to the right, then Twisp Mountain and Hock Mountain at far right.

I scampered up the short gully leading to the prominent notch on the South Ridge of Jackknife in time to catch the first light of the day on the peaks to the southwest. Just beautiful.

Glacier Peak above Heather Ridge at sunrise.

Bonanza and Bowan Mountain.

I downclimbed the west side of the ridge as I made my way back to camp to make a loop, arriving while everyone else was still in their tents. Before long, though, folks got up, and Dunlin spotted a Blue Grouse up in a larch, feasting on needles. We took our time watching him munch before making breakfast and packing up.

Grouse…

…and Grouse-watchers.

We traversed over the short distance towards Stiletto Lake, crossing a beautifully autumnal slope, then stopped at Stiletto Lake to fill up water. Back on an official trail, we headed down towards Twisp Pass, stopping for plenty of photos. At the pass, we made a somewhat impromptu decision to extend our loop by returning via Copper Pass, rather than just descending past Dagger Lake towards Bridge Creek, which also would give us more time above treeline.

Beautiful fall colors below Stiletto Lake, with Hock Mountain peaking out at the right, at Twisp Mountain at the center of the frame.

Adam and Alex traversing some talus enroute to Stiletto Lake. Hock Mountain at left.

Group photo at Stiletto Lake, with Hock Mountain in the background.

The pleasant shores of Stiletto Lake.

Below Twisp pass, we continued down the trail, with intermittent views, before crossing the North Fork of the Twisp River and intersecting the trail up towards Copper Pass. This trail was in great shape and had been freshly logged-out for the first mile we were on it, then was still easy to follow as it climbed towards Copper Pass. In the forest, Dunlin spotted a beautiful (and edible) Bear’s Head Tooth Fungus, then we continued up above treeline.

The gang with a Bear’s Head Tooth Fungus, the state mushroom of Vermont.

The views from Copper Pass were gorgeous, and it was fun to look up at Blue Lake Peak from the south. For next time, it looks like it’s possible to traverse easily cross country directly from Stiletto Lake to Copper Pass without dropping into the Twisp River drainage, for a more aesthetic and direct line (albeit with potentially fewer edible fungi).

Helene and Alex heading down the trail just north of Copper Pass. Blue Lake Peak at upper right.

We headed down the trail on the north side of Copper Pass, slowly descending but staying out in the open until we hit the edge of the Blue Lake burn. There, we followed the trail back down to Bridge Creek, which has been repaired since the fire and was easy to follow except in one short segment near Copper Creek, then we retraced our steps back across Bridge Creek and up the PCT to the car. A lovely outing!

Trip Report: Bailing on Mixup Peak

Last weekend, in oder to celebrate the reopening of the Cascade River Road, Adam and I headed up to take a look at Mixup Peak, a mountain which has long intrigued my but I have never attempted. Although Mixup is often climbed car to car, we opted for a relaxed two day trip as I was excited about camping somewhere pretty. We ended up bailing after the weather on Sunday was worse than forecasted, but had a sleeper stunning sunset on Saturday as a consolation prize, and still had a great time on our twins trip.

Dramatic light on Three Fingers and Whitehorse.

We left the trailhead in the mid afternoon and cruised up the obnoxiously gentle trail to Cascade Pass under overcast skies. The fall foliage was gorgeous, and we had nice views down the valley to Eldorado and its neighbors. I couldn’t see any signs of the Pincer Two fire which kept the North Fork Cascade River off limits for much of the summer.

Adam heading up Mixup Arm above Cascade Pass, with nice fall foliage.

From Cascade Pass, we left the crowds behind as we headed up the climbers’ trail up Mixup Arm. We met another party that had bailed on Mixup after running out of time - they hadn’t even made it to the Cache Glacier - but perhaps this was an omen? We made pretty efficient time up the ridge, and filled up water at the edge of the glacier for a dry camp at Cache Col.

Adam crossing some “vertical” dirt on Mixup Arm, with Booker in the distance.

Cool ice patterns on the Cache Glacier.

The Cache Glacier is melted down to the bare ice this time of year, revealing cool patterns in the ice. We threw our crampons on and headed towards the col, taking a look at the Gunsight Notch which provides access to the climbing route on Mixup. We knew that in the late season, crossing the moat and accessing the notch can be challenging, so we had come prepared for battle, with ice screws, extra pro, and some extra rope in case we needed to leave a fixed line. However, the moat didn’t look too bad, although the rock below the notch(es) certainly looked dirty. Either way, I thought we could make it go - I’ll have to come back to verify, though!

The Cache Glacier moat and Gunsight Notch(es) on the route up Mixup. We’ll have to come back to see how hard it is to climb off the glacier and up to the notch!

Adam heading up the Cache Glacier. Mixup’s summit is to the left, with Forbidden and Sahale on the far side of Cascade Pass.

Adam playing in the moat at the top of the Cache Glacier, just below Cache Col.

We cruised up the glacier to Cache Col, where we were greeted with a hearty breeze. We dropped our camping gear and headed a short ways up the ridge towards Magic to watch the sunset, although with how overcast it was, I wasn’t expecting much. However, expectations be damned, a few minutes before sunset, the sun dropped below the clouds to the west, casting epic beams of light down into the Middle Fork valley, and illuminating Kool Aid lake below us. We also noticed some nice light on the Boulder River Wilderness summits to the south, glowing between pockets of rain and virga. It was really a magical moment that ended as quickly as it started, leaving only some lingering pink light on the clouds as it got properly dark.

Sunbeams in the Cascade River Valley below Mount Tommy Thompson.

Short-lived evening light on the west slopes of Magic Mountain and Kool Aid Lake, with Spider and Formidable on either side of the Middle Cascade Glacier beyond.

Some golden light on the lower flanks of Eldorado, Torment, and Forbidden, despite their summits being in the clouds.

The wind also picked up a bit, and it was a bit chilly, which motivated us to head back to our tent site and start setting up Adam’s fancy new tent. This motivation was further increased by a splattering of rain drops, but after a bit of fidgeting with the guylines, soon we were cozy in our sleeping bags in the tent, listening to the rain and wind on the fly, and thinking how much more pleasant it was inside than out. After making dinner, we drifted off to sleep, comforted with the knowledge that the National Weather Service had forecasted Mostly Sunny skies for our summit attempt on Sunday.

Unfortunately, the forecast didn’t pan out. At some point in the middle of the night, the “pttpttptt” of rain on the tent turned to the “pshpshpsh” of snow, with the deteriorating weather further punctuated by the 4:30am failure of a guyline anchor, which sent Adam out into the storm to fix while I stayed cozy in my sleeping bag. When my alarm went off just before sunrise, I poked my head outside to assess the scene: we were in a total whiteout, and every exposed surface was coated with rime ice and a few centimeters of fresh snow, with more still falling. It was pretty evident that the day wasn’t right for rock climbing, so we indulged in two more hours of snoozing before enjoying some cocoa and packing up.

Adam and I at camp in a whiteout, after testing out the stormworthiness of Adam’s new tent.

We headed down the Cache Glacier in a whiteout, waved goodbye to Mixup (hidden in the mist), and retraced our steps down to Cascade Pass, which felt properly frigid with strong wind blasting from the west.

Adam descending the Cache Glacier in a whiteout.

Until next time, Mixup!

Trip Report: Backpacking on Ptarmigan Ridge

Last week, Becca’s parents visited from Wyoming for a nice backpacking trip with my parents. While we’d initially planned for a longer trip, weather trimmed us down to a single overnight, so we headed up 542 for a lovely night out on Ptarmigan Ridge, returning via the Galena Chain Lakes loop.

A stunning sunset on Ptarmigan Ridge, with Shuksan, clouds above Baker Lake, Blum, Hagan, and Baker Lake all visible.

After lunch in Glacier at the Wake n Bakery, we headed up to Artist Point after the hillclimb road closure, and headed off towards Ptarmigan Ridge. It was a beautiful chilly day, with the blueberries starting to turn bright red, and a slight dusting of fresh snow on Shuksan and Baker, playing peek-a-boo through the clouds.

Becca, Dad, and Gaile on Ptarmigan Ridge, with Mount Shuksan in the background.

The crowds thinned out after the turn-off for Mazama Lake, and the views were stunning. We set up camp past Coleman Pinnacle, then headed further along the ridge towards The Portals, passing a group of hunters returning after successfully shooting a Mountain Goat. As we neared The Portals, the wind picked up, and clouds began spilling over the north side of the ridge, so we headed back towards camp.

Becca, Luc, and Gaile hike along Ptarmigan Ridge towards the Portals.

Clouds blow over Ptarmigan Ridge in front of Mount Baker

While the others hunkered down, Dad and I stayed up high on the ridge, enjoying an absolutely magical sunset, with a backlit lenticular cloud over Baker, evening light on Shuksan, and a striking undercast in the Baker River valley. With crisp temps, it really felt like Fall.

Evening light on Mount Hagan’s several summits.

Backlit clouds cling to Mount Baker and the Cockscomb at sunset.

The next morning, Dad and Mom and I headed up a nearby bump to watch the sunrise and the morning light on Mount Baker.

Kiva enjoying the morning light on Mount Baker.

Group photo near camp, with Mount Baker in the background

After breakfast, we all strolled down past the glacial-remnant lake to admire the resident herd of Mountain Goats, basking in the sun below Mount Baker.

Mount Baker and the glacial remnant lake on Ptarmigan Ridge

Mountain Goat below Shuksan’s summit

We retrieved our packs and headed back down the ridge and down to Mazama Lake, then, with plenty of breaks for blueberry munching, up and over Herman Saddle and down to Bagely Lakes. This part of the trip was fun for me, as, despite having been there countless times on skis, I’d never hiked the super-popular trail!

Dad and Kiva heading down from Herman Saddle towards Bagley Lakes, with Shuksan looking pretty.

Some folks waited down at Heather Meadows while Becca and Mom and I zipped back up to retrieve the cars. A really nice accessible overnight with stunning views and great company!

Trip Report: Climbing Ragged Edge on Vesper Peak with Mike

Last weekend, I went out climbing with one of my good grad school friends, Mike. He and I have a tradition of going on a trip together every summer, and for this year’s edition, I wanted to take Mike out for his first ever alpine climb. We had a great trip and Mike did a fabulous job - the only shame about the trip was the smoke blown in from Oregon, which obscured some of the amazing views of the summits in the Monte Cristo area.

We spent a few hours on Saturday at Index, practicing some crack climbing techniques and multipitch skills, then drove around to the Sunrise Mine trailhead, and started hiking up towards Headlee Pass. Being in the late afternoon, we had most of the climb in the shade - pleasant!

Mike on the trail above Headlee Pass, with Morning Star in the background.

In not too long, we crossed the outlet from Vesper Lake, and stopped to fill up some water before climbing talus to the saddle between Vesper and Wolf Peaks. We found a nice place to camp (with running water, didn’t need to carry any) in a basin just below the saddle, and we enjoyed smoky sunset views down towards Copper Lake.

Sperry above Vesper Lake, with Morning Star, Del Campo, and Gothic to the left.

Sunset views down what remains of the Vesper Glacier, with Copper Lake below.

A bit worried about the route being busy the next morning, we took advantage of our camp near the base to get up early and be the first party on the route. We left camp just before light, and after some fun exposed traversing, were at the base of the first pitch, with no one else around. By accident, one of Mike’s climbing shoes got left back at camp, so I lent him one of mine and climbed with one approach shoe for a little extra alpine feel.

Mike above Sperry and Vesper Lake, approaching Ragged Edge by headlamp just before dawn.

I started leading P1 just before 7am, and after a bit of looking around for the bolts on P2, we settled into a nice rhythm. I thought the climbing was super fun, with stunning views, straightforward routefinding, and bountiful protection.

Mike nearing the top of P2.

A mildly distorted panorama showing the beautiful exposure on the route. The Vesper Glacier and Copper Lake are below, with views over to the south side of Big Four Mountain.

Mike on the lovely arete on P6, the last pitch of the route. Copper Lake below.

Before long, we topped out onto the summit, and enjoyed some early lunch and nice views. None of the parties behind us had caught up, which was gratifying. We headed down the slabs and traversed back over to pack up camp, then headed down the trail towards the car. A great trip with a great friend.

Mike and I near our campsite.

Trip Report: Snowfield Peak with Adam and Becca

Last weekend I climbed Snowfield with Adam and Becca. We had some crisp temperatures that felt like Fall, enough clouds to keep the weather interesting, and a fabulous time. We had originally hoped for a longer trip, but our mid-August end of summer fakeout shortened our available time to just two days - we made the most of it!

We left Seattle at a civilized hour and retrieved our permit, then headed up the pleasant trail to Pyramid Lake, through the verdant forest. On the far side of the lake, we picked up the climbers’ trail (in great shape right now) and headed steeply up to treeline. We only saw one other party, a group of two that was headed in for 10 days, planning on doing an out-and-back Isolation traverse to climb Forbidden, since the standard access to that area via the Cascade River Road is closed at the moment. Badass (and probably the only way to get the West Ridge to yourself in good conditions ;).

Becca and Adam on the Pyramid Lake trail.

Once above treeline, we were rewarded with stunning views, although most of the summits remained hidden in the clouds. We descended and sidehilled over to ever-growing lake below the Colonial Glacier, where we encountered some fierce katabatic winds - brr! Traversing around the lake was pleasant enough, once we stopped to put on more clothes, and there we cool icebergs floating in the lake - only sad to think about how they’re a sign of how the Colonial Glacier is dying.

Icebergs in the lake formed by the receding Colonial Glacier.

This time of year, all the glaciers in the area are pretty much melted down to the bare ice, so we threw on crampons on headed up towards our camp at the col below Neve Peak. As we climbed, we ascended into the clouds, but routefinding was always straightforward. We set up camp at the col, then headed up Neve Peak for sunset. I wasn’t too optimistic that we’d get much in the way of views, but about fifteen minutes before sunset, the clouds slowly dissipated, initially granting us an otherwordly view of Mount Baker backlit through the fog, glowing like the Eye of Sauron. Shortly thereafter things cleared up even more, and we had an unforgettable time watching the sunset - definitely the highlight of the trip.

Adam and Becca climbing up the Colonial Glacier on the way to camp. Paul Bunyan’s Stump, Pinnacle, and Pyramid in the clouds behind.

A backlit Mount Baker glowing in the light of the setting sun.

The sun setting behind Mount Baker with Paul Bunyan’s Stump, Pinnacle, and Pyramid Peaks emerging from the clouds. Shuksan and the Pickets in the background.

Becca and Adam and I on Neve Peak, with Snowfield and the Neve Glacier in the background.

The next morning, I got up for sunrise, which lit up the sky with fiery orange and nice light on Paul Bunyan’s Stump and its neighbors. I went back up Neve to photograph some of the more distant mountains to the north, including a cool view of Hozomeen and the Ross Lake valley full of clouds.

Sunrise from above camp, with clouds filling the Ross Lake valley and Jack at right.

Morning light on Paul Bunyan’s Stump, Pinnacle, and Pyramid.

Hozomeen and clouds above Ross Lake.

Panorama from Mount Baker to Mount Shuksan, with Triumph and Despair in the shade, and Blum in the sun.

Back at camp, I roused Adam and Becca and we had breakfast before heading off towards Snowfield. We passed some nice yellow Monkeyflowers on the descent down to the Neve Glacier, then roped up and headed out onto the ice. Adam did a masterful job of routing us up the glacier, and before too long we were dropping our rope and crampons and heading up the rocky west ridge towards the summit.

Monkeyflowers and Snowfield.

Becca and Adam heading out onto the Neve Glacier enroute to the summit of Snowfield (at left).

Panorama looking south from Snowfield, with Buckner, Eldorado, and all the Skagit peaks visible. Backbone Ridge at right.

The Neve Glacier from the summit of Snowfield, with “the three Ps” and a wisp of cloud. Note Redoubt, the Moxes, and Spickard in the distance.

The views from the summit were stunning, especially towards the south - the backbone ridge is so striking from this angle! However, it looked like some weather was coming in, just as the forecast called for, so we headed back down after not too long and packed up our camp.

It rained a bit as we descended the Colonial Glacier, but somehow we avoided getting soaked. We tolerated a few more sprinkles on the trail out in exchange for a nice rainbow over Ruby (with new burn scar visible) and then blasted into Burlington for burgers. A great trip with two great people!

Trip Report: Mount Watson with Dad and Adam

Two weeks ago, Dad and Adam and I set out for a fun quick Dad+twins trip up Mount Watson, on the edge of the National Park. We had a lovely time camping with beautiful views and lots of lakes, some fun and mildly adventurous scrambling, a tiny glacier, and a quick hike out.

We left Seattle Saturday in the early afternoon and drove across the top of Baker Dam to access the Anderson Butte trailhead. We stopped to walk back onto the dam, and all collectively scratched our heads trying identify the large, mysterious floating structure anchored in front of the dam - turns out it’s a floating collector for juvenile salmon, who are then transported around the dam by truck. Neat.

Watson Lakes and Mount Bacon on the approach.

Flowers near Upper Anderson Lake.

It was a quick hike in to our “high camp” below Watson, with nice views in all directions, and the three of us enjoyed exploring around the area at sunset.

Watson Lakes, Mount Shuksan, Blum, and Hagan.

Mount Baker and the setting sun.

The next morning, we set off to tag the summit by climbing the Northwest Ridge. After a bit of dirty climbing around the South Face to bypass the West Summit, the traverse along the knifeedge ridge crest to the true summit was stunning.

Adam and Dad traversing slabs on the Northwest Ridge of Watson.

Dad traversing the ridge between the West and Main summits.

The three of us on the summit of Watson.

We descended to the east via the dying Watson Glacier, and headed back to camp and the car. A great trip with good people.

Adam and Dad crossing below the Watson Glacier enroute back to camp.

Trip Report: Road Trip to Wyoming via the Palouse and Glacier National Park

As is something of an annual tradition, last month Becca and I drove to Wyoming to visit Becca’s family. On the way there, we spent one night in the Palouse, one of my favorite parts of Eastern Washington, and on the way back, Becca flew home while I drove back by myself via Going-to-the-Sun Road in Glacier National Park, another classic.

While in Wyoming, we did some lovely hikes, and a highlight was climbing Albright Peak via its Southwest Ridge with Becca’s Dad and cousin, something of an adventure climb. I also brought my big 6x17 film camera as well, and I’m excited to share some of those panoramas soon, as well!

An Aeromotor Pump and power lines at dusk, outside Washtucna.

We left Seattle after work on Tuesday and drove most of the way to Washtucna before sunset. The few Aermotor pumps along the highway always make for nice silhouettes. We drove the rest of the way under the cover of darkness and I spent a little bit of time photographing one of my favorite grain elevators beneath the Milky Way before camping near Steptoe Butte.

The Milky Way over a grain elevator in the Palouse.

In the morning, as Becca snoozed, I got up before sunrise and drove around, finding a few new scenes that I liked, as well as revisiting some of my old favorite spots.

Two barns at dawn.

Grain elevator and flowers in the morning light.

Grain bins and a barn at sunrise.

We drove into Wallace where we stopped so I could take a Zoom meeting, then blasted the rest of the way to Jackson. We spent most of our time there with family, but (as always) Luc was adamant that we climb something with him, despite our short visit. With a less-than-stellar weather forecast, we settled on the Southwest Ridge of Albright, a less-than-classic climb that promised unique views of Death Canyon, solitude, and lots of scrambling. We were joined by Becca’s cousin Tanya, who was a joy to have along. With a moderately early start, we hiked up Death Canyon and then off trail up the Sentinel Gully to the base of the route. A short and easy pitch brought us to the saddle below the Sentinel Turret, and we took a quick side mission to visit the summit. From there, we backtracked to the saddle then traversed east on ledges before climbing one run-out 30 meter slab pitch to a higher ledge system, the crux of the route. Becca wasn’t a fan of the runout and poor pro, but I had a (admittedly Type-2) good time - gotta take the victories where I can ;)

Luc, Becca, and Tanya, scrambling on the Southwest Ridge of Albright Peak in Grand Teton National Park.

From the top of this pitch it was lots of fun scrambling to where the trail intersects the ridge, with lovely views. We dropped our packs, tagged the summit, then headed down via the trail.

The next morning, Becca and I set off towards home before dawn. We drove through a very foggy Yellowstone Park before I dropped Becca at the Bozeman airport and continued on by myself. I stopped in Helena to work at the library for a few hours, then continued up to Glacier National Park, where I hiked up to the summit of Cataract Mountain for sunset, then back down via headlamp.

Self portrait on the summit of Cataract Mountain, with Siyeh Peak in the background (at left).

I headed up to Hidden Lake Pass for sunrise, and was rewarded with some really lovely blowing fog, which emphasized the views down to the lake and over to Bearhat. I returned to the parking lot to find a flat tire, and I enjoyed putting on my spare while teasing the circling motorists with my soon-to-be-vacant parking spot. They were salivating.

Classic view of Bearhat Mountain and Hidden Lake at sunrise, with wisps of fog.

Mount Reynolds reflected in a small tarn from the Hidden Lake trail.

I drove into Columbia Falls to reconnect with a friend for lunch, then on to Couer d’Alene’s public library for some more work before heading south to the Palouse to for sunset and camping.

A barn and grain fields on the Washington-Idaho State Line in the Palouse.

Combine Harvesters and other agricultural equipment lined up after a days work.

Two trees in the Palouse at dusk.

I explored some new-to-me parts of the Palouse closer to the Idaho state line, and happened upon a fun lineup of agricultural equipment parked in a field. I got some sleep, got up for sunrise the next, morning, and then drove back to Seattle before lunch. A great trip!

Trip Report: Above, Below, and Inside the Clouds on Mount Shuksan

Two weeks ago Becca and I were lucky to be visited by Ash and Audra, good friends of ours from UCSB. We wanted to take them on their first Cascades climbing trip, so we set out for the Sulphide Glacier route up Mount Shuksan, one of the most photogenic peaks in the North Cascades. We overcame challenges posed by blisters, cloudy weather, and a busy summit pyramid, and had a wonderful trip.

Becca, Audra, and Ash on the climbers’ trail up towards the Sulphide Glacier.

We linked up with Ash in Burlington, and after some gear organization, got a relaxed start up the Shannon Ridge trail. We passed a number of parties, including a very large guided group, on the way up - an omen of what was to come. While the Sulphide has always been a popular climb, the closure of access to other North Cascades introductory mountaineering staples (like Eldorado, Forbidden, and Sahale) due to the Pincer Two fire I’m sure has concentrated traffic.

Heading up snow towards the Sulphide Glacier, with a nice view of Hagan in the background.

Nonetheless, the approach was pretty quick, and before long we were up at 6,400 feet on the glacier, where we lucky to find a secluded and dry campsite, even if it was a bit rocky. With plenty of parties camping on snow, it was nice to have a bit of privacy.

As the afternoon went on, clouds continued to build until we were slowly enveloped in fog. This made for a very nice ambiance when we reviewed haul systems and headed out onto the glacier to practice self arresting - everyone had a great time.

We went to sleep with intermittent overcast views out over Baker Lake and Lake Shannon.

Baker Lake and Lake Shannon stretching out to the south at dusk.

The next morning I got up early for a slightly underwhelming sunrise, with some clouds and haze. Nonetheless, the views of Seahpo, Blum, and Hagan were lovely, and a bit later, Baker even got in on the morning sunshine.

Mount Blum at sunrise to the south, with Hagan’s several summits barely poking out of the clouds.

Becca, Ash, and Audra at camp, with Mount Baker in the background.

After a leisurely breakfast, we put our crampons on and roped up to head out for the summit. We made efficient time up the firm snow, and enjoyed atmospheric views with swirling clouds and Sulphide Peak poking out of the fog. Thankfully the navigation was never tricky.

Ash and Becca wandering on the cloudy Sulphide Glacier.

Mount Baker and Sulphide Peak poking out of the cloud deck.

We arrived at the base of the summit pyramid to find, with a small amount of horror, an absolute gongshow of parties all over the southwest face. There were parties downclimbing, parties rappelling, parties with their ropes stuck, and parties pitching out third class terrain. Thankfully, our plan was to take the low-fifth South Ridge, which we were able to do with minimal delay.

Becca leading the last few feet of the South Ridge to the summit of Shuksan.

We soloed most of the ridge, then reached the very crowded summit. By this point in the morning, the undercast was pretty thick, and we had cool views of the mountain below us disappearing into the clouds. The airy north side of Shuksan was especially fun to look out over, although it was a bit of shame not be able to gaze all the way into the Nooksack Cirque (which I had skied across a few months earlier) or see most of the nearby summits.

Becca, Ash, and Audra enjoying the summit of Shuksan with a few dozen new friends.

A slightly more solitude-y angle of Audra, Ash, and Becca on the summit of Shuksan, far above the undercast.

After enjoying the views, we downclimbed the central gully, passing a number of rappelling parties (including one group trying enthusiastically to pull the large block their rope was stuck on down onto themselves) and had a grand time glissading down the Sulphide to camp.

Descending the Sulphide Glacier towards camp, with the Crystal Glacier and the Jagged ridge in the background.

We packed up and hiked out, with only a few blisters to dampen the mood. Note that, in my opinion, it’s a categorically bad idea to proclaim at the start of a trip “I never get blisters!” Sorry, Ash ;)

Trip Report: Climbing in BC's Bugaboos

I’ve been extra busy with work and fun lately, but last month I was super lucky to spend a week in the Bugaboos with Eric, Sean, and Becca. The Bugs are a region of the Purcell Mountains in the interior of British Columbia, and one of North America’s most classic destinations for alpine rock climbing - stunning granite spires with beautiful cracks, huge glaciers, and relatively easy access. It was the first time climbing in the Bugs for all of us except Eric, and I’m sure we’ll all be back!

As always, enjoy the photos and let me know what you think!

Friday & Saturday: We left Seattle Friday afternoon, drove most of the way to Spokane, and camped before driving the rest of the way to Radium Hot Springs, where we grabbed some last groceries, and loaded our packs up with all our gear and four days worth of food. We then drove the rest of the way to the trailhead and schlepped our heavy packs up the ~1,000 meters to Applebee Camp, where we’d basecamp for the next week.

Eric and Becca with heavy packs on the way in to the Bugs.

Sunday: our first climbing day. We decided to start with a moderate route, Surf’s Up (7 pitches up to 5.9), to get our legs under us and get the lay of the land. Being on the opposite side of Snowpatch Spire from camp, climbing Surf’s Up required us to cross the Bugaboo-Snowpatch Col and travel a short distance along the Vowell Glacier.

Sean heading out onto the Vowell Glacier enroute to Surf’s Up, with Bugaboo Spire in the background.

The climbing itself was lovely, with stunning views from the Surf’s Up ledge, and some fun scrambling at the top to reach the summit and the rappel route. We weren’t terribly fast, and ended up waiting for a little bit to pass another party.

Becca rappelling off Snowpatch Spire, with stunning views of Pigeon Spire, the Vowell Glacier, and the Howser Towers in the upper right.

By time we got back to the base of the route, it was a little bit later than expected, and we still had to descend the steep snow below the Bugaboo-Snowpatch Col to get back to camp. Steep snow isn’t Becca’s favorite, so all around it was a more full day than we initially imagined - still a great way to start our trip!

Marmolata, Pigeon Spire, the Vowell Glacier, and the Howsers on the way back to camp after climbing Surf’s Up.

Monday: we decided to keep things a bit closer to camp, and after a relaxed start, we headed out to check out some of the accessible classics on Crescent Spire. Sean and I teamed up to climb McTech Arete (5.10-, 6 pitches), while the strong Becca-Eric team dispatched the 11c climbing on Energy Crisis, which joined up with our route at P3.

Becca and Eric traversing around a snowbound alpine lake on the way to Crescent Spire, with the looming East Face of Snowpatch in the background.

Everyone had a great time climbing, and we hung out for a bit on the summit, enjoying our first views to the north towards the more remote summits around Snafflehound Spire, across the toe of the Vowell Glacier.

Becca leading the beautiful corner on P4 McTech Arete, after climbing Energy Crisis.

Once again, though, we got back to camp on the later side.

Tuesday: We decided to truly take it easy, in order to be well rested for a bigger day Wednesday. I got up early to take some photos at sunrise, and then we hiked down to the car to grab some more food and climbing gear and stretch our legs - and to fortify our vehicle’s defenses from the porcupines, which (according to legend) will eat your brake lines!

Snowpatch Spire’s impressive East Face reflected in a small puddle of snowmelt. Eric and Becca would go on to climb much of this face later in the trip.

Crescent Creek and Snowpatch Spire from the trail back down to the car.

Anniversary Peak, the Bugaboo Glacier, and the Hounds Tooth from the lateral moraine. A hundred years ago, when Conrad Kain made his first ascents of the Howsers and Bugaboo Spire, the Bugaboo Glacier extended more than 4km further down the valley than it does today.

Wednesday: We got a properly early start for one of our longer days of the trip, the super-classic Northeast Ridge of Bugaboo Spire (~10 pitches, with a variation up to 5.9). We left camp by headlamp and passed one party at the start of the class 4 scrambling that takes you to the saddle between Bugaboo and Crescent Spires, below the start of the climb proper. By the time the sun came up, we were almost at the start of the route, and we had incredible views of the spiky profile of Snowpatch Spire and the Vowell Glacier to the north.

Becca, Sean, and Eric approaching Bugaboo Spire by headlamp, with Eastpost Spire below the stars behind them.

Becca climbing some steep snow to access the class 4 rock on the approach to the NE Ridge. Alpenglow on Snowpatch Spire behind.

Morning light on Mount Conrad, Vowell Peak, Snafflehound Spire, and surrounds across the toe of the Vowell Glacier.

Becca below the base of the NE Ridge, with Snowpatch Spire looking striking behind her.

When we reached the base of the climb proper, we were thrilled to see that we were the first party on the route that day. We climbed efficiently as two teams of two, with some really stellar climbing down low and on the 5.9 handcrack variation. Up higher, we unroped just below the North Summit and enjoyed the views.

Eric leading P1 of the NE Ridge.

Becca high on the NE Ridge, with Brenta Spire shaded to the left.

We had topped out the route just before noon, and so, with great weather, had plenty of time to enjoy soloing the traverse to the South Summit, where the descent proper starts. The traverse was breathtakingly exposed, with massive drops on both sides to the Crescent and Vowell glaciers, and amazing views of the Howesers and Snowpatch Spire. In retrospect, the traverse was maybe as much as the climb itself.

Eric, Becca, and Sean soloing the incredibly exposed ridge between the two summits of Bugaboo Spire, with the Howser Towers in the distance.

A group photo on the South (true) Summit of Bugaboo Spire, with the Howsers in the background.

Thursday: with Sean feeling bushed from the NE Ridge, Eric, Becca, and I set out to climb Paddle Flake (5 pitches up to 5.10b) as a party of three. Another classic on Crescent Spire closer to camp, we had a grand time on stellar rock, and returned to camp early enough to relax.

Friday: our last day of climbing! We all got up early, but for different reasons. Eric and Becca set out to put in a very impressive effort on Minotaur Direct, a striking and sustained 16 pitch line up the stunning East Face of Snowpatch Spire, with climbing up to 5.11+. Meanwhile, Sean and I headed up the Bugaboo-Snowpatch Col to catch sunrise from the top, then we headed over to climb the easy but classic West Ridge of Pigeon Spire.

Sean climbing the last bit of snow to the Bugaboo Snowpatch Col.

Sunrise arrived quite a bit smokier than anticipated, but we enjoyed the view out onto the Vowell nonetheless. The West Ridge of Pigeon was a delightful romp, and we passed a few parties as we made good time soloing the whole route. We basked on the summit for a while before descending the route. Back at our boots, we decided to descend the Bugaboo Glacier to the Kain Hut and then hike back up to Applebee Camp, to make a loop.

Sean on slabby terrain on the West Ridge of Pigeon Spire, a delightful romp.

Sean descending the Bugaboo Glacier, with a cool view of the icefall between Pigeon and Snowpatch Spires.

With plenty of time after an early return to camp, I made Sean belay me on the single-pitch Applebee Crack between sessions of watching Becca and Eric’s progress through my telephoto camera lens, and it was convenient being able to check in with them via walkie talkie. They made very impressive progress, climbing 12 of the 16 pitches, before opting to rappel back to the glacier before it was totally dark. It was on their last rappel, the last rap of the entire trip, where we had our only mishap - a stuck rope which was then accidentally chopped by a knocked rock. If any time is a good time to accidentally cut your rope while rappelling, the last rap of the whole trip is the place to do it!

Eric, Galen, Becca, and Sean at camp before our hike out. Hounds Tooth and Marmolata in the background.

Saturday: we packed up and hiked out to the car, then drove into Radium (with intact brake lines!) for food and a pleasant soak in the eponymous Hot Springs before driving all the way back to Seattle.

Trip Report: Summer in the Adirondacks

The week before last I travelled with my family to the Adirondack Mountains in New York State, where my dad’s family lived. We’ve spent a week or two there every August since I was little, but this summer, we moved our trip earlier to attend my cousin’s wedding. (Congrats Emily and Nate!)

The Milky Way behind the fire tower on Saint Regis Mountain.

One of my favorite parts of visiting the Adirondacks is watching the sunrise from Saint Regis Mountain, and this year was no exception. The swirling fog on the lakes and ponds below is different every single day, and always stunning.

The sun rising over Osgood Pond.

Sunrise from the Saint Regis Firetower.

Sunrise panorama from Saint Regis Mountain…

Panorama looking south at dawn.

We also got up to plenty of other fun during the week we were there. One afternoon Adam and Becca and I headed out to check out the sport climbing near Chapel Pond, and watched the sunset over the Giant’s Washbowl.

Adam climbing It’s About Time (5.11) at the Future Wall.

Late evening views out over the Giant’s Washbowl.

On Tuesday Becca and I went for a very pleasant hike in the AMR with my aunt and uncle and parents. By coincidence, the hike we picked took us up and over Indian Head and down to Gill Brook, which is one of the very first trips I ever did with Becca, almost ten years ago. On that trip, only a few days after we first met, a random woman on the trail asked if we wanted a photo of the two of us. The adorably awkward photo she took of us is the very first photo we have of us together, and so, on this trip, we decided to recreate it!

Gallery: Film Panoramas from Mount Rainier

A few weeks ago I wrote about a quick little midweek overnight down to Tipsoo Lake and Mount Rainier. On that trip, I also shot some panoramas on my 6x17 panoramic film camera, and I finally finished processing those images. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Tipsoo Lake and the very summit of Mount Rainier at dusk. Kodak E100.

Mount Rainier at dawn. Kodak E100.

Pink and orange clouds illuminated just before sunrise. Kodak Ektar 100.

Mount Rainier in gorgeous morning light, with a “hat” of lenticular cloud. Kodak Ektar 100.

Dropping clouds of an incoming storm over the summit of Mount Rainier. Kodak Ektar 100.

A more affordable Rocky Talkie - the "Knock-Offy Talkie"

I am a big fan of using radios in the backcountry, and I’ve talked (almost) all my ski buddies into getting their ham licenses - we make extensive use of 2 meter simplex communications while backcountry skiing.

Becca rappelling on the West Face of Snowpatch Spire, with Pigeon Spire in the background. Can you spot the radio on her harness?

It only takes one or two windy belays to realize the appeal of radios for multipitch climbing, as well, but for climbing, having something as small and lightweight as possible is paramount, and it needs to clip to your pack or harness. Indeed, recently the Rocky Talkie has popped up as radio that ticks many of these criteria, and with a substantial Instagram advertising budget (and a generous sponsorship of SAR awards), Rocky Talkies being clipped to increasingly many climbers’ and skiers’ packs. However, at $110+ tax and shipping for what is essentially a cheap FRS radio and an $8 Trango wiregate carabiner, they are a pricey option.

Four “Knock-Offy Talkies”

Ahead of our recent trip to the Bugaboos, I wanted to see if I could come up with a knockoff Rocky Talkie equivalent with many of the same features for fraction of the cost. I did so using the Baofeng BF-T1 radio, a 3d-printed carabiner clip, some cheap M2.5 screws from the hardware store, and 4 pack of aluminum carabiners from Amazon (feel free to upgrade to Trango for some extra $$$).

If you’d like to make your own, feel free to print (or modify) my CAD file. You’ll need:

  • a Baofeng BF-T1 radio (less than $20 on eBay, or even cheaper from AliExpress)

  • a carabiner with a spine cross section of <12mm

  • 2x M2.5 x 12mm machine screws

  • 2x M2.5 washers (6mm O.D)

  • a 3d printed carabiner clip (CAD file here)

Weight 125 grams per unit, 72% of what a Rocky Talkie weighs

Assembly is straightforward, and the weight of the final product is ~125 grams (compare to 173 grams for a Rocky Talkie), and is quite small as well. Build quality, durability, and battery life are worse than a Rocky Talkie, but hey, they’re cheap as hell.

Knock-offy Talkie Rocky Talkie
Weight (g) 125 173
Transmit Power (watts) 1 2
Cost about $25 $110

CAD rendering of the carabiner clip.

It is theoretically possible to (illegally) transmit on FRS frequencies for interoperability with other radios, and with an amateur radio license you can transmit on any 70cm frequency in the amateur bands using Baofeng’s programming software, as well as use 70cm repeaters and standard features such as CTCSS, although there is no keypad for DTMF dialing.

Let me know what you think!

Trip Report: Soggy Weather on Mount Olympus

Last week Becca and I climbed Mount Olympus, along with our dear friend Helene. We had some bad mosquitoes and bad weather, but nonetheless had a great trip. This was all of our first times on Olympus, and next time, I’d like to spend longer in the alpine and climb more summits - my biggest gripe with this trip is that you spend such a small fraction of the total time above treeline.

Becca and Helene on the lateral moraine above the Blue Glacier, a classic view. Mount Olympus’ three summits are hidden in the clouds behind.

We left Seattle Thursday night and drove to lake Quinault to camp, then finished the drive Friday morning. With a bit of gear reorganization, we started hiking around 10:30 under a broken overcast. The Hoh River trail is lovely, and we had a grand time gawking at the mossy cedars and maples.

Becca and Helene amongst the cedars along the Hoh River.

We stopped for a few breaks along the river, including at the Olympus Guard Station 9 miles in, where Becca took advantage of the porch to get a quick climbing workout in.

Becca training during a hiking break at the Olympus Guard Station.

At 13 miles, the High Bridge over the Hoh River is stunning, crossing the river far above a narrow fern covered chasm.

A view from the High Bridge straight down into the Hoh River.

From the bridge, we started climbing through pleasant forest to Martin Creek. The falls on Martin Creek are hard to get a decent view of, but are really quite beautiful. We arrived at our first camp at Elk Lake just before 19:00 and set up tents. It was pleasant in the forest, but without good views, and we ate dinner under an ominous overcast that enveloped the surrounding ridgetops.

Saturday morning we got up at 6:00 and headed off a little bit before 7:30, still under thickly overcast skies. As we got closer to Glacier Meadows we finally got some views out of the forest to the mountains to the west. We set up camp at Glacier Meadows, with swarms of mosquitoes motivating us to move quickly, then headed up the trail with light packs towards the moraine, where we got our first stunning view of Mount Olympus, with all three summits shrouded in clouds. Descending to the glacier was straightforward and easy, and we crossed the flat lower slopes unroped before linking glacial slabs and snow patches up towards Snowdome.

Becca with her “snowman” friend on the lower Blue Glacier.

Helene enjoying some crisp snowmelt straight from the source before roping up for the upper glacier.

Climbing up snow patches towards Snowdome, with stunning Blue Glacier icefall and Olympus’ three summits in the background. The true (West) summit is indistinct at far right.

As we climbed up the last few feet to Snowdome, we ran into another party of two descending - by some total coincidence, it was Dan, a friend of mine, and his buddy. The advised us that the snow bridge over the bergschrund on the early season “Fourth of July” route was melting out, so we opted to summit via Crystal Pass instead. The traverse to the pass is pretty mellow, but with poor visibility and a few big crevasses, we opted to rope up.

Climbing back onto the Blue Glacier (and into a whiteout), with Mercury Peak in the background.

As we climbed higher along the gentle glacier, we quickly were enveloped in a whiteout, and it began to rain - premier alpine conditions.

Traversing towards Crystal Pass during a break in the clouds. Olympus’ summit is hidden in fog at right.

By the time we reached Crystal Pass, we were starting to get decently soggy, and the water saturated soft snow made for sloggy travel. Nonetheless, we continued up with bad visibility to the false summit. From here, we knew we needed to descend a short ways to the saddle between the true summit, but in the total whiteout it was quite disorienting. After a few false starts, we made our way down to the saddle, then back up to the base of the rocky summit block, thoroughly soaked with the ongoing rain. Getting off the snow and onto the rock was the hardest part, and Becca and I felt comfortable soloing the short fourth class scramble to the true summit - Becca gets bonus points for doing it in her fishing gloves!

Becca climbing class 3/4 rock to the summit of Olympus in truly terrible weather.

Summit selfie

We reached the summit and snapped a few quick photos, then I set up a short 20 meter rappel back to the snow while Becca tried to shake some blood back into her frigid fingers. A few minutes later we were back on top of the false summit and roping back up for the descent to Crystal Pass.

Becca rappeling off the summit through the clouds.

The soggy snow at least made for quick descending, and before too long we were starting to get a few views down into the lower Blue Glacier valley.

Helene and Becca descending towards Crystal Pass.

The rest of the descent was uneventful, and it even eventually stopped raining! We lollygagged back down the trail from the moraine to camp, enjoying the misty views and relative lack of mosquitoes. Unfortunately the near 100% relative humidity overnight kept us all fairly soggy, but spirits remained high.

Becca and Helene plunge stepping off the side of Snowdome, with Glacier Pass in the distance.

Sunday morning I got up a bit earlier as the ladies slept in, and walked back up to the Lateral Moraine to snap a few last photos before we headed down into the woods. Mount Mathias was still cloaked in clouds, but the Blue Glacier and Olympus were poking out - what a stunning view! The ice-filled valley that holds the lower Blue Glacier is really quite unique for Washington, and I had to force myself to leave and pack up for the hike out.

Mount Olympus’ three summits poking out above the clouds, with the ice of the Blue Glacier below.

We packed up camp and hiked out through foggy woods, and plenty of good conversation kept us entertained as we hiked.

Becca climbing up the ladder on the trail on the way down to Elk Lake, with foggy forest behind.

Eventually, the clouds burned off, and we even got a few rays of sunshine before returning to the car.

Myself, Becca, and Helene, happily changed into dry clothes and comfy shoes back at the trailhead.

Gallery: Film Panoramas from 2023

The work required to scan and edit process film photos means that I haven’t been shooting as much film as I did a few years ago, but in the last year, I still brought my trusty 120 format panoramic camera on a few trips. This camera exposes regular medium format film, but it exposes a much longer strip of film with each exposure, making beautiful panoramas with negatives that are 6 x 17 cm — almost 12x larger than a standard 35mm film frame!

Here are a few of my favorites from last summer and this winter.

Mount Rainier at sunset, Paradise, Mount Rainier National Park, Washington. August 2023.

Tatoosh Range from the north at sunset. Mount Rainier National Park, Washington. August 2023.

Tomyhoi Peak and Canadian and American Border Peaks, Mount Baker Wilderness, Washington. August 2023.

Grain Elevator at sunrise, Whitman County, Washington. August 2023.

Myrtle Falls, Mount Rainier National Park, Washington. August 2023.

Keep Kool Butte at sunrise, Mount Baker Wilderness, Washington. August 2023.

Taylor Point Cove, Olympic National Park, Washington. March 2024.

Gatton Creek, Quinalt Rainforest, Olympic National Forest, Washington. March 2024.

Giants Graveyard, Olympic National Park, Washington. March 2024.

Trip Report: Midweek Overnight at Mount Rainier

Last Tuesday I decided to sneak out for some midweek skiing with the nice weather… I didn’t sleep as much as a probably ought to, but I feel super lucky to live somewhere where I can leave Seattle at 5:30 after work, get a quick skiing lap in, watch the sunset and sunrise, and be back in town by 10 the next morning.

I headed to Chinook Pass to take advantage of the easy access to the June snowpack, then snapped some photos at Tipsoo Lake (now mostly melted out) at sunset. I also brought my panoramic film camera and am excited to share those images once I finish developing them.

Mount Rainier from Tipsoo Lake at sunset.

I enjoyed the fading light as I ate my sandwich, then drove up a side road for a few miles and hiked by headlamp through the nighttime forest. It’s always fun to turn off your headlamp and pause, listening to the woodsy sounds in the pitch dark. After not too long, I reached a beautiful open meadow and got in my bivy sack, just as the mostly-full moon rose to the east, bathing Mount Rainier in yellow light.

Moonrise and the Milky Way over Mount Rainier.

Strong alpine winds blow clouds over the summit of Mount Rainier, illuminated by the moonlight. I was blissfully asleep as my camera’s self-timer took this shot.

After not nearly enough hours of sleep, my alarm went off, and I quickly grabbed my camera and started hiking as the sky lightened. The clouds to the northeast lit up, and I scrambled to take a few exposures on film before the light faded.

Fiery clouds at sunrise.

I finished the roll of film I had loaded, and pulled it out to realize I it wasn’t the type of film I thought I had loaded - stupid! In my hurry I had shot an entire roll of E100 thinking it was Ektar, and therefore had exposed it as if it was negative film. Stay tuned to see how it comes out :)

Sunrise on Mount Rainier, with a nice “hat” of lenticular clouds. The Emmons and Winthrop Glaciers sit at left, above the Inter Glacier, while Curtis Ridge, with Willis Wall, and Liberty Ridge look imposing on the right.

The sunrise was absolutely stunning, with just enough clouds to make for interesting an interesting sky, and an ever-changing cap of lenticular clouds floating over the summit, unwordly neon in the dawn light.

Panorama of Mount Rainier at sunrise. I’m excited to see how this one comes out on film!

Early spring meadows below Rainier. This whole area was snow covered just a few weeks ago.

As the sun continued rising, the lenticular clouds over the mountain thickened and descended, and an overcast built overhead. I was glad I wasn’t heading for the summit at that moment!

Storm clouds building over Mount Rainier shortly after sunrise.

As I started making my way back towards the road, I saw a herd of Elk romping through the meadow, and enjoyed watching them frolic.

Elk in the meadows below Sluiskin Mountain, with Crescent Mountain at right.

Before I headed back into the forest, I enjoyed photographing the reflection of Rainier in a few small tarns. By then, the light was pretty flat and overcast, but it would be fun to come back!

A stormy Mount Rainier reflected in a small tarn, the summit obscured by cloud.

As I walked through the woods, thunder boomed in the distance, and it started raining a few minutes later. Amazing how quickly the weather can change!

Gallery: Buffalo's Abandoned Buildings

A few weeks ago I attended a conference in Buffalo, NY where I spent some time exploring various abandoned buildings between conference sessions and in the evenings. I had an amazing time biking and walking around the city, which has some truly stunning architecture. Of particular note is the Buffalo Central Terminal station, which is a massive Art Deco train station and 17 story tower built in 1929 and abandoned in 1979.

I hope you enjoy a few photos! (Click on an image to enlarge, and swipe or use arrow keys to flip between images)

Trip Report: Backpacking in Michigan's Pictured Rocks Lakeshore

Last weekend, on my way to attend the ICWSM conference in Buffalo, I spent two days hanging out with my good friend Serena and exploring some of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. The UP is dramatically different from the Lower Peninsula, with almost 1/3 of Michigan’s land area but only 3% of the state population. We had a grand time seeing the sights at the Straits of Mackinac, camping at Tahquamenon Falls, and backpacking in the Pictured Rocks Lakeshore.

The Mackinac Bridge at sunset from McGulpin Point, on the Lower Peninsula.

Day 1: After an unpleasantly early flight from Seattle to Detroit, I met Serena in Flint and we drove up to Mackinaw and strolled around the cute town before heading over to McGulpin Point to enjoy the sunset with lovely views of the Mackinac Suspension Bridge. Afterwards, we hung out in town for a bit longer before driving to our campsite at Tahquamenon Falls and getting to sleep pretty late.

The Lower Falls on the Tahguamenon River.

Day 2: While Serena slumbered, I got up unpleasantly early and drove back to the mouth of the Tahquamenon River to watch the sunrise over Lake Huron, which was pleasant but not too photographically productive. I probably would have been better off staying at the falls, which I returned to after not too long. Serena was still asleep so I explored the Lower Falls on my own, enjoying the boardwalk out to an island in the middle of the river, which is brown with tannins, earning the place the nickname “Root Beer Falls.” Back at camp, Serena was still asleep, so I pulled out my laptop and worked on my talk, hiding in the car from the heinous mosquitoes. After Serena got up, we went back and repeated my stroll around the Lower Falls.

Munising Falls.

We headed up to the Upper Falls, a larger cascade, and enjoyed the view there before heading to the town of Munising, an hour and a half away, and stopping at a few more waterfalls as the weather gradually became overcast. In town, we got lunch and grabbed some groceries for our backpacking trip in the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. Pictured Rocks is an especially stunning part of the southern shoreline of Lake Superior, with many miles of 100-300 foot tall sandstone cliffs that drop straight into the lake, punctuated by occasional beaches, coves, and natural arches. Much of the lakeshore is accessible only by foot or boat, giving it more of a wilderness feel, and there are stunning trails that run along the the top of the cliffs with great views.

Serena in the pleasant (but Mosquito infested) forest near the lakeshore.

We set out from the Miner’s Beach trailhead at around 17:00 and hiked to Mosquito Creek, enjoying waterfalls, pleasant forest (with more mosquitoes) and overlooks out above the lake. We found a campsite at Mosquito Creek and dropped our overnight gear, then headed out for a sunset loop to Chapel Lake, Falls, and Rock, coming back via the lakeshore trail and Grand Portal Point. The inland trail through the woods was quite muddy in places, but we had a great time checking out Chapel Falls, and soon enough we were back at the beach at Chapel Rock, a tower that used to be connected to the mainland by an arch which collapsed sometime in the past half century, leaving an improbably placed pine root as the only object to bridge the 20 foot gap between the rock and the rest of the seashore.

Chapel Rock above Lake Superior. The root at the right used to be supported by a natural rock arch, which collapsed some number of decades ago, leaving just the root.

The beach below Castle Rock has a lovely waterfall which spills out of the woods straight onto the beach, and we had dinner there before hurrying onwards as sunset was only 20 minutes away. Just as I hoped, the sun dropped out below the clouds and we were rewarded with beautiful light and even a brief rainbow as we climbed up to the clifftops at the west end of the beach and looked back.

Chapel Creek spilling out of the forest and straight into Lake Superior. Note Chapel Rock (and arch) at the upper left.

As we made our way along the lakeshore we had a magical time exploring hidden coves and stunning views from the clifftops of points and arches as the light faded from the clouds. Eventually we pulled out our headlamps and hiked back to camp to sleep.

Chapel Beach and distant cliffs below a brief rainbow at sunset.

A hidden cove near Chapel Beach

Serena and I with Grand Portal Point behind.

Grand Portal Point at dusk.

Day 3: Serena and I both got up as it started to get light, and walked over to the beach to enjoy the sunrise. It had cleared up almost completely overnight and was a beautiful sunny morning. We walked east along the beach before hiking up into the woods and following the trail along the clifftops to scamper out on to Lover’s Leap, a dramatic arch that juts into Lake Superior - very cool, even if backlit in the morning.

Morning light on the cliffs from Mosquito Beach.

Creeping Dogwood and Birch in the forest.

Lover’s Leap in the morning light.

We headed back to camp and packed up, then strolled back to the car, stopping to bushwhack the short distance over to Bridalveil Falls, which pours over slabby cliffs straight into the lake. Neat.

Bridalveil Falls. Spot the Gull!

Bridalveil Falls pouring straight into Lake Superior.

We got back to the car around 9:30 and drove over to Miner's Castle, where we noticed that a fogbank had slid over the lake and was blanketing the shore where we had just been. We retraced our steps to the beach and had fun exploring the beach in the fog.

Miner’s Beach and waterfall in the fog.

After we’d had our fill, we went back to the car and drove east, stopping for lunch, then headed into Grand Marais, where we had fun walking along the breakwater and climbing on the lighthouse. A brief stop at the Pickle Barrel House finished up our trip, and we headed back over the Mackinac Bridge to the Lower Peninsula. I said goodbye to Serena in Flint, and headed across the border into Ontario for a brief stop at Niagara Falls before continuing to Buffalo for ICWSM.

Serena at the lighthouse at Grand Marais.