Link to Spring Break Pictures

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Back to Reality (Spring Break - 2014)

We got up fairly early again this morning.  A few folks rolled in late last night as we were heading to bed, but I think we all slept fairly well.  After breakfast, everybody else was tired but Will and I headed out for one last trip up the ridge.  We were hoping to skin out along the ridge and hit one of the chutes that descended toward the hut, but visibility deteriorated just as we were getting up there, so we played it safe and retraced our steps. 

After packing up, we parted company with Dave who was going to exit on one ski via the logging road and meet us at the trailhead.  He left a great note on the door of the hut with his contact info in case somebody finds the ski later this spring.  The rest of us wanted to hit a nearby chute for one last run that would end near the car and involve much less road skiing.  We were all tired, but the climb up to the top of chute was worth it.  Though we had seen no stability issues, Jerry dug a pit just to be safe, and then we were off.  The top half was great: nice and sustained with light powder.  The bottom half left a little to be desired.  The terrain was really fun, kind of a half-pipe, but the snow was heavy and hard to turn in, especially with the big packs.  My legs were sure tired too!  Nevertheless, it was a neat exit, and I'm glad we made the effort!

From the bottom of run, we did a short 2 or 3k road ski back to the car where Dave was waiting.  After loading the car, we hit the road for Pemberton where we stopped for another tasty meal at One Mile.

Thanks to Will, Dave, Jerry, and Kevin for an amazing week!  Special thanks goes to Jerry for putting together our maps and brainstorming trip ideas while the rest of us were busy with school, etc.. We were an outstanding team, I had total confidence in every decision we made.   I will remember this trip forever.  Love you guys!   

A Tired Day (Spring Break - 2014)

We had a restless but warm night in the hut.  We got up earlier than usual due to the crowd, ate a quick breakfast, and then returned to the skin track we ascended yesterday afternoon, this time sans Dave.  Dave had actually left before us and was booting his way up to the search area to continue looking for his ski.  Our plan was to climb up to a beautiful ridge above the hut and then descend into the next valley over.  After our run, we hoped to head back to the search area to spend a little more time looking for Dave's ski.  We had agreed that he would leave some pink flagging if he had already found it. 

We had a fun run down from the ridge.  The snow was light and super stable.  We had received very little new snow the night before.  We got a little cliffed out lower down and wound up skiing some gullies where the snow wasn't quite as optimal, but conditions were good overall. 

After skinning back up, I wasn't feeling good.  I think I was really tired.  While Kevin and Jerry went ski hunting, I hung out in a broad flat area with Will before returning to the hut with Will who also had a bad stomachache at this point!  We were falling apart!

Will and I relaxed in the hut and played some Scrabble while Dave (who had not located his ski) took Will's pair out for a spin with Kevin and Jerry who had also recently arrived at the hut.  A couple hours later, Dave returned with reports of stellar conditions, so Will and I set out, feeling better after some rest.  We wound up skinning back up to the ridge in hopes of watching the sunset, but instead got caught in a minor blizzard that rolled in suddenly.  In spite of the tricky descent, it was still nice to get out.  

All is well back at the hut.  Surprisingly, we are the only party here even though it is Friday night.  It's really nice to have this place to ourselves.  We have the fire going, a disco ball spinning to classical music, and the boys are playing Farkle.  No complaints.... Off to bed soon!   

Dave's Lost Ski (Spring Break - 2014)

We woke up at the hotel feeling better than we'd felt in days.  After a delicious breakfast in the room and a slow morning, we finally motivated and hit the road around 11:30.  Our plan was to head to the hut near Duffy Lake that our server had suggested.   

After one last stop at the grocery store and an hour long drive to the trailhead, we started skinning around 1:00 in spring-like conditions.  Most of our approach followed a logging road that is well used by snow machines, but we eventually branched off to venture the valley, still following some snow machine tracks.  The approach was short and painless.... It couldn't have been much longer than 5k or over 1500 feet of vert.

The hut is wonderful (and free!).  I think there are 14 of us here tonight, and it is cozy, warm, and best of all, dry!  There is even a wood stove and solar lights.  I almost feel like I'm at the Merrells' cabin. 

After getting settled and eating a snack, the five of us headed out to get the lay of the land.  We followed a skin track that switch-backed up the mountainside directly behind the hut.  The snow was excellent on north facing aspects, but we felt a definite crust on all other aspects.

After breaking out of the trees maybe 1000 feet above the hut, we skinned to the summit of a nearby peak.  The terrain was gorgeous and huge.  The skiing possibilities were limitless.  After identifying a few potential objectives for tomorrow and investigating a possible exit route for Saturday, we dug a pit, ripped skins, and got ready to descend.  Kevin and Jerry took off first, followed by Dave who fell right near the top.  He wasn't injured, so I headed down the slope toward Kevin and Jerry while Will waited for Dave to get his skis back on. 

I enjoyed fun powder down to Kevin and Jerry, and then the three of us proceeded to wait for Dave and Will.  After a few minutes, we started to get worried as they hadn't shown up and it seemed unlikely that they would have inadvertently skied past us.  Kevin suggested that I try "yelping," or calling out my signature "Koooooooeey!"  After reminding him that I am not a Chihuahua, I called out and got a response.  It was eventually communicated that Dave had lost one of his skis.  After waiting a few more minutes, Jerry, Kevin, and I donned skins and began breaking trail up to them.

Reunited, we joined Will and Dave in the tedious search for the ski.  Dave and Will had already excavated much of the search area, but we began a somewhat systematic process of probing for the ski as we worked our way across and down the slope.  It was extremely frustrating and a huge bummer for Dave.  On the bright side, I would much prefer to probe for a ski than a person, and we were all relieved that the ski was not lost on the traverse.

After many hours of searching between the five of us, I plunge stepped down the slope with Dave while the rest of the crew spent a few more minutes looking before skiing down to the hut defeated.  Back at the cabin, we had a relaxing dinner and dried out.  Looking forward to skiing more tomorrow!  A system is expected to move through the area tonight and the new snow might decrease stability.  We're all crossing our fingers for more sunshine and hoping the storm doesn't materialize.  

Where is Peter? (Spring Break - 2014)

Afternoon Edition: After a miserable bivy, we stumbled into Permberton around 11 AM.  Little can be said about the night, except it was perhaps the least comfortable of my life, with the exception of the night I came down with food poisoning several years ago.  We were all starving by the time we reached town and headed straight for a restaurant called One Mile which a rancher/heli guide had recommended as we walked past her place just before hitting the highway.  As it turned out, she had heard there was a party on the Wedge-Currie Traverse, probably from one of the heli guides, and she wasn't surprised to see us on the way out.  We were already starting to feel famous!

I had enjoyed the walk into town, though ski boots and very unwieldy skis made it a little more arduous than it otherwise would have been (ULA packs are NOT designed to carry skis!).  I would estimate that we did between 4 and 5 miles of road walking once the snow became too sparse for skiing, initially on logging roads and then for about a mile on the highway.  For some reason, it made me think of the walk into Sead Valley on the PCT.  Perhaps it was the road walk along the river we would eventually cross and the view across the river, or perhaps it was the anticipation of a gigantic pancake breakfast! 

Town is awesome. By the time we arrived, it was a little too late for breakfast, but we enjoyed a delicious lunch of burgers, wraps, salads, and poutine.  Breakfast had consisted of half a bagel, a cliff bar, and the last few nibbles of a Symphony chocolate bar, split five ways, so we were more than ready for a hot meal.  We were all soaked and took over the deck at the restaurant.  Skis, packs, wet clothes, and even a tent covered the picnic tables and railing.  I had major PCT flashbacks.... How I still long for that lifestyle sometimes!

Will, Kevin, Dave, and I are now spread out in a park across the street from the restaurant with all our gear.  The sun is shining, I'm finally warm, and the backdrop is spectacular.  A woman on a bicycle just stopped by to ask if we were selling things and then informed us that overnight camping is not allowed.  She was adamant that we were on sacred First Nation land, but we assured her that we were not planning to stay the night.

Wearing only long underwear and booties, the very debonair Jerry just got a hitch back to Whistler to pick up his car.  With his good looks, we knew it would only be a matter of minutes.  Once he's back, we'll figure out a plan for the night.... Not sure any of us are ready to ready to dive right back into the back-country, so we might be on the hunt for a hotel.  A bed sure sounds good!

Evening Edition: After Jerry returned with the car, he, Will, and I headed over to McDonald's to use the WiFi.  Kevin also joined us after wandering back across to the street to the restaurant we had eaten at to see if they had any rooms available in the adjoining lodge for tonight.  No go for that option, but we were also considering B&B's (highly recommended by locals), the Pemberton Valley Lodge (pricey, but nice), and the Pem Ho (the name says it all).  Jerry began by calling the Pemberton Valley Lodge in hopes of striking a deal.  Funny thing - the woman he talked with wasn't surprised to hear from him as she "knew we were in town."  I guess we were gaining quite the reputation and had not gone unnoticed sprawled in the park.  Anyways, she was willing to cut us a deal, but we decided to return to Dave and drive by the Pem Ho before making a decision. 

Reunited with Dave, we learned of a very intriguing third option.  Apparently, a random guy had seen Dave and stopped by the park.  This mysterious fellow told Dave he knew of a house we could stay at for $20 each.  The house supposedly belonged to some semi-famous hang-gliding filmmaker named Peter who liked to help out back-country skiers.  It sounded like Peter perhaps operated a B&B of sorts, as we were told we'd be able to sleep on the beds, but not in them, as guests were expected next week. 

We were interested in meeting Peter, if only for curiosity's sake and decided to follow Dave's very vague directions to his house.  The mysterious stranger Dave had spoken with told Dave we could reconnect with him in a trailer off Reid Road and that Peter's house was fairly close to the trailer and near a lake.  Off we went!  Needless to say, locating the Dave's new friend, Peter, or his house proved impossible.  Dave and I knocked on the door of a trailer and got no answer, tried calling the guy to no avail, and ultimately wound up knocking on the door of a house we thought might belong to Peter only to find that the occupants had never heard of him! 

After exhausting all options, we retreated to town and decided to get a room at the Pemberton Valley Lodge.  Accommodations secured, we took care of the "usual" town chores minus the PO: grocery shopping, laundry, etc..  The hotel is great.  It has a bedroom as well as a pull-out couch.  The hot tub was fantastic, and we just bbq'd sausages and asparagus for dinner.  Life is good.  Still figuring out plans for tomorrow, but leaning toward checking out an off-the-radar hut in the Duffy Lake area that our server told us about at lunch.  Excited for a warm, dry night in the meantime!   

Tree Skiing (Spring Break - 2014)

Tree skiing: skiing around trees, skiing through trees, skiing up trees.  Worst 'shwack of my life.  We thought we'd be in Pemberton right now, but we're soaking wet and bivied in the rain.  I ate the last of my oatmeal for dinner.  All is well though, and everybody remained positive throughout the day.  I think the VERY vague route description was written when there was actually a clear cut.  Now there is a dense forest.  We finally found our exit logging road (thank God!) late this evening and decided it didn't make sense to carry on as it was already getting dark and we were cold and tired.  We had snow, sleet, and hard rain throughout the day.... terrible conditions for bushwacking.  Planning to get up early and stumble the rest of the way out to Pemberton.  HUGE thanks to Jerry for the peanut butter-nutella-cookie crumble mix which saved me this afternoon!

Cone Heads (Spring Break - 2014)

We woke up to a cloudy morning with occasional light snow on the Weart Glacier.  We were fortunate to still have decent visibility, however.  After a long-ish morning of melting snow, we continued descending the glacier, all donning party hats in honor of Kevin's 30th birthday.  I'm sure we looked ridiculous!  At about 2000 meters, we turned north and made our way up through mellow terrain to a col south of the Mystery Glacier.  Will and I took a slightly lower route than the rest of our posse which made a gradual high traverse and then rejoined us well below the saddle.

From the saddle, we had a truly memorable descent down the Mystery Glacier.  The route finding around the crevasses was somewhat challenging, but the skiing was truly phenomenal.  Jerry and Kevin led us down the perfect line.  I was a little nervous because it was hard to see what was below due to rollovers, and it was nice to have some fearless leaders to suss things out.  However, as I told the boys, I didn't think I was meant to die wearing a bright pink monkey party hat, so I was pretty sure I'd be ok!  Seriously, it wasn't that bad though.... Conditions were optimal.  

After descending the glacier for about 200 meters, we put skins on and climbed up to a minor ridge to the east.  Once on the ridge, we debated our options.  Our ultimate goal was a saddle on Hibachi Ridge, which we thought we could identify in the distance.  However, we were unsure how to get there most efficiently.  We seemed to have two options: descending to the east where we could make our way up a series of ramps, or continuing along the ridge skirting either to the left or right of a rocky high point.  We wanted to avoid losing elevation if at all possible, and our maps didn't show any obstacles along the ridge, so we elected to stay high and skin to the left around the high point.

To make a long story short, that route didn't pan out, so we had to retrace our steps and descend below the ridge.  Though we probably wasted an hour, you don't know 'til you go, and our miscalculation only added to our adventure.  Plus, we could definitely blame it on the 100 foot contours.... Darn Canadian maps!

From the col, we descended another small glacier, once again in stellar powder.  Another big thanks goes to Jerry for investigating the route.... Steep glaciers with rollovers are tricky!

Our long day ended with one last climb up to a saddle near Mt. Currie, followed by a 900 meter run down to the head of Gravell Creek, our exit route to Pemberton.  The snow left a little to be desired (lots of wind affect and breakable crust.... survival skiing), and we were all exhausted.  On the bright side, we found running water in camp.... No melting snow tonight!  Add some birthday pudding Oreo cookies and the warmth of 30 candles, and we're all feeling pretty good.  Permberton tomorrow!

Best Day Ever! (Spring Break - 2014)

Today was a blast!  We woke up to a blue bird and had a fairly leisurely morning in camp.  It's hard to do anything quickly when winter camping.  After leaving the lake around 11, we skinned northeast up a wooded valley.  We were aiming for Berna Lake and hoping not to head too far to climber's left.  We wound up making a pretty long traverse toward climber's right after getting a little off track to avoid losing elevation.  We encountered some tight trees and obnoxious skinning but eventually broke into the open where we could see a fairly straightforward route up to a shelf near Berna Lake, or so we thought. 

We were mindful of wet slides, as we were climbing a south facing slope toward the lake, but we weren't even getting many roller balls.  Stability seemed really good.  I took the lead and broke trail up a fairly steep rib to more gradual terrain above.  The scenery was beautiful and we were gaining views of huge peaks and glaciers all around. 

We found a lake on top of the shelf, but our GPS informed us that we were at Peggy Lake instead of Berna Lake.  In fact, we could see Berna Lake off to our right and could have made our way over to it without much difficulty.  However, we quickly realized we didn't need to.  Instead, it appeared that we could make our way up to a saddle in the distance and drop down the other side to the Weart Glacier, our ultimate goal for the day.  We would essentially parallel our intended route but be on the opposite side of a steep ridge. 

The revised route couldn't have gone more smoothly.  Perhaps we would have been exposed to more avy risk in other conditions, but stability was bomber and of very little concern.  Topping out at the saddle was by far the best part of the day.  There was no wind and the view was gorgeous.  Words can't do it justice, so I'm not going to try.

From the saddle, we made a fun, gradual descent down to the massive Weart Glacier.  I've never been on such a huge glacier.  It was super mellow, more a gentle glide than a ski descent.  Shortly after hitting the glacier, we ran into our first signs of human life since early yesterday: a skin track coming from the opposite direction and a gear cache.  No sign of the owners though.

We're currently camped on the glacier.  There are mountains all around.  I've never seen such big terrain before.... I think it tops even my beloved North Cascades.  Cold night tonight.  Off to bed!   

T-Bar Cramps (Spring Break - 2014)

Spring Break has finally arrived, and I'm off for a week of back-country skiing in the Coast Mountains of British Columbia.  My comrades include four very good friends: Will, my boyfriend; Jerry, my Avy I instructor back in 2005, a fellow Marmot Mountain Works employee, and my most consistent gym climbing partner since 2011; Kevin, a dear friend and touring partner who is always up for my crazy ideas and huge one day pushes; and Dave, another fellow Marmot who was hired right before the store went out of business and is currently getting ready to start a new gig at Mountain Madness.  Maggie, the back-country skiing pup, Will's puffin, a remarkable fellow named Puffin, and Jerry's goat, another Maggie, have also joined our motley crew. 


We’re kicking off the week with the Wedge-Currie Traverse, a 44 km traverse across northern Garibaldi Park, from the Blackcomb ski area north to Pemberton Valley.   The trip is similar to the famous Spearhead Traverse, but it sees less traffic and boasts more expansive ice fields.  We were hoping to do the longer and more committing McBride Traverse, but our weather window is looking a little too narrow.  We expect a system to move into the region by Tuesday.  Instead, after we finish the shorter Wedge-Currie Traverse, we plan to move to the Duffy Lake area where tree skiing options abound.   There, we’ll establish a base camp and do day trips for the rest of the week.

Our Saturday morning started early.  Jerry picked Will and me up at 5 AM.  Will had been up until after 2 packing and working on an email for school, and I hadn't slept well either….. Way too much excitement!   I told Kevin I felt like it was Christmas and I was finally getting a pony!  Anyways, after Jerry picked Will and me up in his Subi with not one, but two ski boxes on top, we headed to Capitol Hill to fetch Kevin and then north to Edmonds for Dave.  Once we were all accounted for, we made a quick stop at Starbucks for breakfast and then headed north on I5 to the border.  After a lengthy and somewhat hostile interrogation by customs, we were in Canada!   

In Squamish, we hit Nestor's Market and another Starbucks for a few last minute treats and then made a beeline for the Whistler-Blackcomb ski area.  Jerry had done some research and learned that we could park in a particular area of lot 4 reserved for back-country users for free, but unfortunately that section seemed to be full.  After driving in circles and becoming thoroughly carsick, we parked in another lot so that Jerry and I could make our way to Guest Services to ask for direction while the rest of the boys waited at the car.  We also needed to figure out where we could buy one-way lift tickets, as we had learned from a friend in Seattle that uphill traffic was not permitted in the ski area.  Anyways, the gal Jerry and I spoke with was super helpful and called one of her colleagues to resolve the parking situation.  We were in luck!  We were told we could park in lot 5 instead and instructed to leave a note on the car including our trip plans and an emergency contact's info (As a side note, we wound up coming out a day later than expected, and the ski area followed up with Jerry's wife, Gayle.  Fortunately, Jerry had been able to send her a text message indicating that we were delayed, so all was well.  It was nice to know that they followed up!).

After returning to the rest of the crew, we moved the car and got changed.  Heavy packs in tow, we walked  back to Guest Services, purchased the requisite lift tickets, signed the necessary back-country waivers, and were off on the first of many lifts to the top of Blackcomb Resort.  The highlight was undoubtedly the t-bar, which was similar to a rope tow but with a bar to sort of balance on.  This was an incredible ride and surely the most interesting part of the day.  I shared my t-bar with 6'5'' Kevin, and needless to say, it seemed as thought the bar rested at his knees and my armpits.  At least we got ab workouts!

It was blowing hard and snowing lightly at the top of the ski area.  Visibility wasn't great, but it could have been worse.  Our first goal was the saddle between Spearhead and Blackcomb Peaks, not far away.  We began skinning alongside many resort visitors who were booting in the same direction, but they quickly dispersed and soon we were on our own.  Visibility remained quite poor and it was extremely cold.  We initially topped out at the wrong saddle but quickly realized our error, made a short traversing descent, and then ascended to the correct saddle.  Once at the col, spirits improved drastically. It was still chilly, but we knew we were in the right place and the snow looked great.  

Soon after ripping skins and beginning our descent in powder, the visibility improved and we were able to see the Decker Glacier below.  We planned to cross the glacier and then trend left around a corner and down into a valley.  The day got better and better.  After crossing the glacier, we had an amazing 1000-ish foot descent in some of the best pow I've skied all winter.  We could see the tracks from many heli skiers in the distance (and the heli and skiers themselves), but there's no way they were having as much fun as we were.  It was bliss!

Eventually, we meadow-skipped our way into the valley and hooked right up another valley.  The terrain was mellow and the trail-breaking was cake.  Such soft snow!  Navigating wasn't bad either.  We used a combination of a map and GPS throughout the day. 

We're now camped at Billy Goat Lake.  It is a beautiful starry night, and I've just enjoyed a delicious meal of mac and cheese, pop tarts, and chocolate, all forbidden foods in the real world.  I'm warmish.  I checked the small REI thermometer attached to my backpack before crawling into the tent, and it was a balmy 15 degrees.  More tomorrow... Can't wait to get out there again!   

The Upper North Ridge of Mt. Stuart - August 20-23rd, 2013

The north ridge of Mt. Stuart had been on my tick list ever since I first heard about the route.  Mt. Stuart is the second highest non-volcanic peak in the state of Washington and the single largest mass of granite in the United States.  The upper north ridge offers twenty pitches of climbing on high quality rock, and it is one of the 50 Classic Climbs in North America.  The big hang up for me in the past had been the difficulty of the climbing.  The route goes at 5.9 and until this summer I wasn’t a 5.9 trad climber, especially in the alpine.  The length of the route was also a concern for me.  It wasn’t a route I felt comfortable attempting over two days, so I had to wait for a longer time window.  This summer, however, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.  I was feeling confident in my ability to climb the 5.9 pitches, I had time off from work, and most importantly, I had Will, my awesome partner in crime.  After much research and deliberation, the Mt. Stuart expedition was on. 

Will and I hoped to complete the route over three days.  Our tentative plan was to leave Seattle on a Tuesday morning as soon as I arrived home from work, knock out most of the approach that afternoon, and then spend Wednesday and Thursday climbing and descending.  It was a conservative plan but we knew it would be a challenging route.  Friday was to be used as an extra day if necessary. 

I got home from work just after 8:00 AM, transferred the food that I’d already gotten ready to my climbing pack, and hopped in the shower.  Both Will and my parents showed up a few minutes later.  My parents were in town from Alaska and were picking up my car for their own road trip out to Montana for a wedding.  Will and I planned to meet them out there after the climb.  It was great to see my parents if only for a few minutes and we couldn’t resist their offer to take us to breakfast, so we headed to the tacqueria in Wallingford to as soon as I was ready. 

Stuffed with burritos, Will and I parted ways with my parents and made a beeline to Feathered Friends to pick up some additional double slings, a triple sling, and a 60 meter half rope that would save us some weight.  From there, it was Mt. Stuart or bust with only a stop for Subway sandwiches and gas standing between us and the trailhead.  While driving, I admitted that I wasn’t certain we’d be able to find running water at Goat Pass where we were planning to camp our first night.  We called the ranger station from the road and my suspicions were confirmed: There was snow but no running water at the pass.  We had been hoping to go stove-less but immediately changed plans and decided to carry our new JetBoil. 

We were planning to climb the north ridge of Stuart but decided to head in via the south side.  This made for a longer approach but a shorter exit, and I think it is the route used by most parties.  We left the trailhead (4,243 feet) around 1:00 PM bound for Ingalls Pass.  It probably took us about two hours to reach the pass and it was there that we got our first view of Mr. Stuart.  I already had huge blisters on my heels and was tired from working all night but we were both feeling optimistic.

From Ingalls Pass (6,500 feet), we followed the trail to Ingalls Lake where we each filled two or three liters of water and studied the route description.  From the north end of the lake, we had to drop a few hundred feet and then find a trail up to Stuart Pass.  From Stuart Pass, we would bear right and follow the shoulder to the base of the west ridge climbing route which I had attempted several years ago.  After that, Will and I would both be in unfamiliar territory.  From the base of the west ridge, our route descended a couple hundred feet of talus and scree, traversed the talus field, and then gained about 500 feet of elevation to Goat Pass.        

We were able to see Stuart Pass, the base of the west ridge route, and Goat Pass from Ingalls Lake.  It was helpful being able to identify our objective for the day but Goat Pass seemed far away.  I think we were already feeling a little overwhelmed.  We talked about camping at the lake and climbing Ingalls the next day, though I don’t think either of us was actually serious.   We pushed on and the approach went slowly but smoothly.  Our route description indicated that it would take two to three hours to reach Goat Pass from the lake but we definitely took longer.  My blisters were painful and the scree approaching Goat Pass was tedious.  I earned the nickname Baby Goat for my wobbliness on the rocks, and Will took a bad spill when a rock he was standing on rolled and wound up on top of his foot.  Fortunately, his foot was fine as was his elbow which he scraped pretty badly.      

We arrived at Goat Pass (7,650 feet) just as the sun was starting to sink.  It’s funny to think back on how proud we were just to have made it there.  We were already beat up, but we knew the route was only going to get more fun.  From the pass, we had a great view of the Stuart Glacier which we’d cross first thing the next morning.  We could also see the gully we’d ascend to reach the start of the climb.  The glacier didn’t look as gnarly as we’d expected, but the gully looked steep.  To top it off, we had a clear view of the entire north ridge including the gendarme, the crux of the route.  The climb ahead looked daunting but not impossible, and regardless, it was a helpful to see exactly where we needed to go the next day.  One of our biggest fears was wasting too much time route finding on the approach.  We needed as much time as possible for the climb, so unforeseen obstacles getting to the route would mean that we’d bail on Stuart and climb Ingalls instead. 

After selecting the premium bivy site, Will and I got to work melting snow.  We wanted to leave camp with six liters of water each.  I can say with certainty that I had never melted the snow needed to make twelve liters of water in one push before and it took forever.  We melted a little extra to leave in our pot for breakfast and planned to each chug a liter before leaving camp the following day.  This meant we’d have to melt an additional two liters in the morning, but we knew it was best to leave camp well hydrated.  We were thankful for the JetBoil as there wasn’t running water in the area.  Dinner consisted of Subway sandwiches which totally hit the spot.  I also enjoyed an Eskimo Delight Cookie Ball for dessert.  We were visited by a handful of goats, but they left us alone and vacated by the time we went to bed.  The snow melting wrapped up sometime before midnight.  I was exhausted and Will finished up the last few liters by himself so I could get a little extra sleep.

Throughout the night, we got to listen to the thunder of rock and ice crashing down from nearby peaks.  It’s always an eerie sound, and it was one we heard many times during our climb.  I joked to Will that I was going to make a CD and call it The Sounds of Rock Fall.  I remember listening to various Sounds of Nature cassettes to help me fall asleep as a kid: the ocean, birds chirping, etc.  The new edition to the series would be rock fall, and if it turned into a top seller, I suggested that we try to produce The Sounds of Avalanches this winter. 

Our alarm went off at 5:30 the next morning.  We woke to a gorgeous day with no wind.  Neither of us had slept well but we were raring to go.  I added the water that had been sitting in the pot to our bags of granola and we set to work hydrating and refilling our water bottles. 

We left camp at 6:20.  We had to descend a little scree before we reached the edge of the snow where we donned crampons and ice axes.  The snow was firm and somewhat steep (maybe 30 degrees initially), but the run out was good so I wasn’t too worried.  Eventually, we reached a short rock band, so we removed our crampons and scrambled across.  Back on the snow, we could see huge crevasses below but the angle of the glacier had lessened so the exposure didn’t seem too significant.  There were a few short icy sections, but I felt very secure overall.  The final bit up to the the gully was a little steeper and we weren’t sure how the transition from snow to rock would be, so I let Will go ahead to suss it out.  Fortunately, it wasn’t as bad as it looked, and we were able to kick steps right up to the base of the gully where we had just enough room to remove our crampons.  After taking off the crampons, we scrambled up fifteen feet or so to a more comfortable spot to get organized.  

We ascended the gully more quickly than expected.  It was mostly loose scree and not nearly as exposed as it had looked from our camp.  About two thirds of the way up, we encountered a giant chock stone which we couldn’t easily climb over.  In order to skirt around it, we needed to ascend some blocky fourth class terrain on the left side of the gully.  We decided to rope up and Will led off toward the notch at the top of the gully where we would officially begin the route (8,200 feet).  As I recall, he made it to the bivy sites at the start of the ridge in one long pitch. 

We were psyched to have made it to the route.  I think it was about 9:30 or so, and we felt like we’d made excellent time since leaving camp.  There were tons of sweet bivy sites.  We took a quick break and then Will started leading up the ridge.  The climbing was no harder than mid fifth class, but I was still getting used to my pack.  I felt more off balance than usual and easy moves seemed strenuous with the extra weight.  A 50 pound pack is a lot for a 125 pound person to contend with, and I was happy to let Will get us started.

The early pitches of the route are a blur.  We’d hoped to do some simul-climbing, but the terrain seemed just a touch too hard for our comfort and the route finding would have made simul-climbing awkward anyways.  We kept our pitches short to minimize rope drag and stay in communication.  Our goal for the day was to make it at least as far as some bivy sites located on the eighth or ninth pitch.  We eventually started swapping leads as the climbing remained moderate and I began to get more comfortable my pack.      

We could see a large bulge ahead and knew from our route description that the top of the bulge marked the end of the sixth pitch.  The bulge became a major objective for us.  It seemed to get farther away with every pitch, so I named it the bulge that never came to our immense amusement. 

Much to our pleasure, the bulge finally came.  From the top of the bulge, we made a short rappel to a notch.  In hindsight, it probably would have been quicker just to down climb, but there were rap slings at the top so we didn’t think twice about rapping.  From the notch, I led a beautiful low fifth class slab pitch.  It was one of my favorite pitches of the entire route and reminded me of the climbing on the south face of Mt. Ingalls.  One of the best things about the pitch was that the route was evident and I didn’t have to think about where to go for a change. 

After I belayed Will up the slab pitch, he led out along the ridge.  The climbing was pretty easy and we knew we were close to the bivy sites which were supposed to be on the east side of the ridge somewhere between the slab (pitch seven) and the gendarme (pitches eleven and twelve).  Will passed a few marginal bivies but kept pushing toward the gendarme as we were hoping for something a little more deluxe.  However, once I started climbing up to him, we both quickly realized that there weren’t any other options ahead and that those were the spots we were looking for.  It was helpful that we were able to communicate and had a clear view of the route to the gendarme.  Rather than climb up to Will, I descended into the upper (and larger) bivy site and built an anchor with the gear I had already cleaned.  I then belayed Will down back down to me, and we were home for the night!

The bivy was super small, barely big enough for two people, but we were so relieved to be done that it didn’t matter.  It was already getting dark, and we had been on the go since 6:20 AM.  We added a few pieces of gear to the anchor and got organized for the night.  We never untied… a first for both of us.  Will considered having me belay him down to one of the two tiny bivies below but decided against it.  We had a feeling the party we’d been hearing behind us would be joining us, and we decided we shouldn’t monopolize all the real estate.  I was perfectly happy with this arrangement, as I didn’t really want to sleep by myself anyways.

Shortly after getting settled, Will announced that he needed to take a poo.  A mere couple feet away from me, he demonstrated enviable talent by pooping directly into a zip lock bag.  I could never do that!!  I much prefer the poo on paper, then stuff the paper in the bag technique.  Nevertheless, it was a memorable show to watch and I was quite entertained.   I might add that the grunting he produced made it sound like he was sending the crux on a 5.12 pitch.  After watching Will’s performance, I decided that I needed to pee.  I was a little nervous about getting out of my harness on such a precarious perch, but fortunately Will showed me how to undo the leg loops on my harness so that I could do my business without totally removing it.  I have used this trick many times since then already!  Great success for all parties! 

A few minutes later, a headlamp emerged from the ridge.  We had friends!  These were the first people we had seen since Ingalls Lake, and we were more than happy to feel like we weren’t the only fools out there.  I can’t remember the names of the guys that joined us but they were great.  One was from Walla Walla, Wash. and the other was from Oregon.  They seemed like a very experienced party and had started at the bottom of the full north ridge after we had left Goat Pass this morning.  They were definitely moving along.  Anyways, they were fun to talk to and were both wearing TC Pro climbing shoes, making it 4/4 on the north ridge of Stuart.  Definitely a TC Pro convention! 

As the other twosome climbed through our bivy and down to the ledges below, Will and I each ate half a pizza for dinner and an Eskimo Delight Cookie Ball for dessert (make that two for me…. Will wasn’t quite as enamored with the balls so I ate most of his supply).  I think I also downed a protein bar.  I was pretty hungry.  After dinner, we drank as much water was we could sacrifice and burrowed in for the night.  I think we both had about 3 liters of water left when we went to bed.   

The night was uneventful.  The wind picked up a bit but it wasn’t too bad.  The other party got moving earlier than we did, as one of the guys was getting dusted in his sleeping bag.  However, we knew we wouldn’t be able to keep up with them so it made sense to let them jump in front of us.  We also figured we would have an easier time with route finding and conserve energy if we waited for the daylight.  One of my favorite memories of the whole trip was watching the other two reach the gendarme.  I let out a big cheer for them, at which time they turned around and saw Will half naked on the ledge taking another poo.  Couldn’t have asked for better timing!

Will led the first pitch out of camp.  He left the bivy at 6:10.  It was excruciating to put the climbing shoes back on, and I was more than happy to let him get us going.  Once again, the climbing was moderate, and we stayed right on the ridge crest.  After Will belayed me up to him, I led one long 60 meter pitch to the base of the gendarme.  We weren’t moving quickly, but we were steady and I felt like we made good time.

The gendarme is the crux of the north ridge.  It is possible to skip the gendarme by rapping down to the west and ascending fourth class ledges to the summit, but we didn’t want to miss out on the gendarme fun!  The gendarme is two pitches long, both of which are 5.9.  The first pitch is a lie-back crack while the second pitch is an off-width.  Both pitches are less than 30 meters, so we planned to double over our 60 meter half rope.  We were also planning to haul our packs on both pitches.  For hauling, we planned to use a 30 meter glacier rope which we would trail (but not clip into the gear).  I’m super paranoid and have insisted on climbing most alpine routes with an extra rope ever since a small mishap on Sharkfin Tower several years ago.  

During the night, I had made the decision to lead the first pitch of the gendarme.  Will would have been totally fine leading both pitches, but even so I wanted to take a little pressure off him to lead both crux pitches.  Nevertheless, I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous before a pitch of climbing in my life.  I was shaking like a leaf despite the fact that was wearing my down puffy coat.  I had watched one of the guys we had bivied with struggle on the first pitch and his performance wasn’t exactly confidence inspiring.  However, after a snack, a poo, reminders to both of us that falling in the alpine is NOT allowed per my rule book, good luck kisses all around from Puffin, and a pep talk to climb confidently, I was off.  It felt great to be climbing without a pack, and I immediately felt myself relax.  It was a pretty perfect crack, a little steep and bulgy in places, but the jams were everywhere and I could place as much pro as I wanted.  The only snafu occurred while I was clipping my last piece of gear before the top of the pitch.  I had trouble clipping both rope strands at the same time, so I did them separately and one of them got wrapped around the biner making it nearly impossible for me to get slack.  However, by the time I realized this, I was about to top out on the ledge at the end of the pitch using the extra slack I had from the clip.  I tried to reach down to unclip the twisted strand, but it felt a little dicey and I didn’t want to fall.  Fortunately, I managed to pull just enough slack up to get another piece in so that I would be on a top rope for the unclip and reclip.  This worked out great and I was able to fix the piece without falling and then finish the route. 

I built an acceptable anchor but decided I needed a #2 to make it totally bomber.  I had Will lower me down so that I could pull the last #2 I had placed and then cruised back up to the ledge.  I had a little trouble with the anchor, as I’m used to using John Long’s equalette system but had left my equalette in the anchor at the base of the gendarme.  Instead, I was using Will’s cordelette.  Also, the crack for the anchor is actually below the ledge where the belayer sits which made things even more awkward.

Once satisfied with my anchor, I moved on to the hauling system.  This was actually the crux of the pitch (and maybe the whole route) for me.  I had been planning to use a pulley to haul the packs, as hauling 50 pounds of deadweight did not sound appealing to me.  However, since the anchor was below me, I wasn’t able to get a mechanical advantage.  The unfortunate part was that I didn’t realize that it just wasn’t possible, so I kept trying to make the pulley work.  Finally, after much frustration (and a few tears that Will didn’t find out about until long after the fact), I pulled Will’s slightly lighter pack up using brute force and Will climbed the pitch wearing my pack.  It was a lot to manage, as Will’s pack kept getting stuck, so I’d have to tie off the pack using an overhand knot and belay Will up to free the pack.  The pulley actually did come in handy, as it caught the knot and allowed me to let go of the haul line.  Anyway, after bringing Will up to the stuck pack, I’d escape the belay, wait for him to free it, haul until the pack got stuck again, tie it off, put Will back on belay, bring him up to the pack so that he could dislodge it again, and so on.  It was pretty tedious for both of us and I felt bad for ruining the pitch for Will who couldn’t have been more patient throughout the ordeal. 

Finally, Will, Puffin, and the packs were all safely on the ledge.  We quickly organized my balagan of ropes and transferred all the gear I still had over to Will.  We wasted as little time as possible, and soon, Will set out on the second gendarme pitch.  The second pitch began with a traverse climber’s right.  Once off the ledge, the exposure was insane.  Below out feet, the rock dropped straight down to the Stuart Glacier which we had crossed on our approach.  It was the most exposure I’ve ever seen.  After Will was maybe 20 feet right of the ledge, he started working his way up an off-width crack.  The climbing was hard and it made for a nerve wracking belay.  I almost wished I was the one leading, but that feeling lasted only until I had to climb the pitch myself.  To me, it felt much harder than the prior pitch, and I was glad to be seconding.  Fortunately, the off-width section was fairly short and Will soon moved into easier terrain.

Once at the top of the pitch, Will hauled both our packs using the brute force method.  Once the packs were secure, I got ready to climb.  It was a relief to finally leave the ledge which I felt like I had been sitting on for about a month.  Even on a top rope, the climbing was challenging and I tried not to look down too often.  Fortunately, I didn’t run into any problems, and it was great to be reunited with Will at the top.  We had survived the gendarme!

We were both ready for a break at this point, but we weren’t in the most comfortable spot so we decided to push on.  I was still feeling pretty drained and knew we needed to pick up the pace, so I let Will lead even though it was my turn.  Our route beta said to head up and right.  Will poked his head around the corner to the right but was unsure it would go so instead followed a crack up and slightly right.  The climbing still felt  5.9 and we both pulled on a #3 at one point, so we weren’t sure we were on route.  Once Will got up a little higher, he saw a sandy ledge below to his right and could tell there was easier terrain beyond it.  He down-climbed to the ledge and then brought me up and over to him.  Here, we were able to take a well-deserved break.      

From the ledge, we watched a guy who appeared to be soloing the north ridge but had rapped down just before the gendarme.  We also saw another twosome that had been gaining on us while we were climbing the gendarme, but they took the alternate route as well.  I think we were a little disappointed not to have the reassurance of company on the ridge, but it was fun to say hi as they climbed passed a couple hundred feet below us.  The twosome we had bivied with was long gone at this point. 

After our break, Will continued leading.  The climbing was moderate, but the route-finding was a little tricky.  We were both tired and moving slowly.  We stuck to the ridge crest as much as possible.  Eventually, we encountered difficult terrain and found a rap station where we could get down to a loose gully just to the right.  We weren’t wild about rapping off the boulder but it was obvious many people had judging by the slings, so we followed suit and made a short rappel down to easier terrain.  Once in the gully, our moral took a nosedive.  Will suggested rapping down to the fourth class terrain we had seen the other climbers ascending during our break.  I was not excited about this option, as I didn’t feel we would gain anything by descending farther and I wanted to stick the true north ridge, a route I’d had my eye on for years.  Yes, I’m a bit of a purist.  Also, I was pretty sure I could see the squeeze chimney pitch just ahead, and after the squeeze chimney, I knew we’d be on easier ground all the way to the summit.  A change of leadership was in order.  We placed the #4 as an anchor, and I started leading up the gully back to the ridge crest.  Once at the ridge crest, I headed right and was quickly at the base of the squeeze chimney pitch.  I brought Will up to me and we transitioned so that he could lead what we hoped would be the final pitch of difficult climbing before the easier climbing just below the summit.

The pitch Will led was hard but not too bad.  It involved some 5.9 face moves with good pro followed by a short 5.8 squeeze chimney.  We made quick work of it and were psyched to have all the hard climbing behind us.  From the top of that pitch, we stuck to the ridge crest as much as possible and worked our way through blocky fourth and low fifth class terrain.  We hoped the summit was just ahead.

Eventually, we made our way up to a comfortable belay ledge in easy terrain.  I pointed out a neat cave just a few feet away.  From the belay, the route headed right around a corner.  I had noticed that clouds were moving in but wasn’t too concerned as the forecast was for zero precip and thunderstorms weren’t in the picture for another two days.  Also, we had long ago committed ourselves to the point where up was the only option, so worrying about the weather wasn’t going to do a bit of good.  Just as Will started leading out from the belay, we felt the first few raindrops.  The climbing was easy enough such that wet rock wasn’t a huge concern, but I still felt a little uneasy about the changing conditions.  My concern skyrocketed when Will shouted back from around the corner that he was getting shocked. At first, he said it felt like a tick was biting his back, but he soon realized he was feeling electricity arcing from his backpack to his back.  He knew he was in trouble when the he started getting shocked whenever he touched the rock. 

I quickly belayed Will back to me and we immediately dropped our packs, grabbed our sleeping pads, a sleeping bag, food, and water, and crawled into the cave.  By this time, it was raining pretty hard.  The cave was a little cramped but it wasn’t too bad and we decided it was at least as deep as it was wide (necessary in order to be safe from lightening per EMT school).  Regardless, we were extremely thankful for the shelter. 

While we waited out the storm, we munched on our “emergency” dinner consisting of a petite loaf of garlic bread and string cheese.  I think I ate another Eskimo Delight Ball too.  It was getting late, and we were starting to face the possibility of a summit bivy.  We were prepared for three nights out, but we’d certainly been hoping to make it back to the car on the third day or at least to the base of the Cascadian Couloir, our chosen descent route. 

It was a little tough to tell when the storm had passed, but we erred on the side of caution and waited until the sky appeared to be clearing.  Once we started climbing again, we made a beeline for the summit and probably hit the summit ridge in three easy pitches.  Once again, the route finding wasn’t completely straightforward, but it seemed more like “choose your adventure” terrain and we didn’t think we could get too far off.  Nevertheless, it was reassuring when Will stumbled upon an old piton just below the summit ridge.

Will hit the summit and called out that we were there.  The relief we both felt was immense.  I was totally spent as I climbed that last pitch to the summit by headlamp.  Once I reached Will, my good feelings evaporated.  It seemed as though we were on the summit ridge but not the summit itself.  In the darkness, I could see lots of possible high points, but it was impossible to determine where the true summit was.  We quickly transitioned and I led out west along the summit ridge.  The climbing was very easy, and we barely even needed a rope.  However, with so much unknown in the dark, the security of a rope was comforting. 

Less than half a rope length after leaving Will, I literally stumbled on the summit register.  The summit register on Stuart is held in a large silver briefcase.  I was totally stoked!  We had done it, and the time was 9:41 PM.  I quickly climbed up to the true summit (9,415 feet) and then back down to the small bivy where the register was located.  At the bivy site, I built an anchor and brought a very pleased Will up to me. 

The summit bivy was as fun as it could have been given the circumstances.  Will had cell service so we were both able to get in touch with our mothers.  I knew my mom was getting my SPOT check-ins, but it was still nice to give her a more meaningful update.  We could see the entire I-90 corridor and a fire burning over on Manastash Ridge.  We ate most of our remaining food which consisted of a PBJ and maybe a bar for me and drank some water.  We were both thirsty but each had less than a liter left.  Will also lightened the mood with a summit poo and some pantless laps on the summit block and we thoroughly entertained ourselves with the summit register.  Free soloers, three times in one week summiters, you name it, and we laughed at it.  We really appreciated the emphasis people put on their climbing times.  Car to summit in twelve hours?  Make that three days for us!  We added our own story which should make plenty of slower parties feel much better about themselves. 

We probably went to bed around 11:00.  Around 2:00 AM, I awoke with an uneasy feeling.  Clouds had moved in, and I was worried about lightening.  After a few minutes of thinking, I decided to wake Will.  I wasn’t sure we would do anything, but I knew I’d feel better after talking things over with him.  After Will woke up, we considered our options.  We were both totally exhausted and the thought of beginning the descent in the dark was almost overwhelming.  We didn’t expect the descent to be technical, but we knew it would be tedious and we didn’t want to get off route.  Eventually, Will was able to pull up a weather forecast on his phone.  As I recall, the forecast indicated a 30% chance of thunderstorms before 11:00 AM.  Just as I was pulling up a radar page which showed showers in the area, we felt the first drops of rain.  We quickly pulled out our emergency bivy sacks but almost immediately agreed that the safest option was to start carefully descending.  Our summit bivy was the worst place we could be in a thunderstorm and the odds were just too high at 30%. 

We packed our camp and I got ready to belay Will down along the ridge.  Fortunately, we had flaked the rope the night before and were well organized for a swift exit.   Our plan was to go down via the Cascadian Couloir.  This involved descending third class rock along the east ridge for several hundred feet, then a descent south toward Ingalls Creek for about 150 feet, followed by a traverse east around Stuart’s false summit to the entrance to the couloir.  Our biggest concern was accidentally getting lured into the Ulrich Couloir which we would come to first.  I felt fairly confident that we could find the Cascadian as I’d made a ski trip to the area last winter and felt familiar with the layout, but route finding is always harder in the dark so we knew we had to be mindful.

Just as Will was leaving the summit, I spotted a big dark cloud to the south.  I was relieved we were headed down.  Will cruised along the ridge until he got to a place where he thought he was going to have to down climb.  The down climb looked a little spicy, so he built a belay and brought me over to him so I could lead down on a top rope.  We quickly transitioned, but rather than descending the way Will had suggested, I saw an easier route that stuck more closely to the ridge crest.   I continued east along the ridge and eventually down climbed about 15 feet to the right to a bivy site.  The terrain was very easy, and I was already questioning whether we needed to be roped up.

As soon as I got to the bivy site, I took off my pack and built an anchor.  I got Will on belay just as the rain picked up.  Suddenly, I heard Will screaming from above.  He was getting shocked again.  Will immediately dropped his pack and began running/down climbing as quickly as possible towards me.  The terrain was moderate enough such that he didn’t need a belay, and the most important objective at this point was to get to lower ground.  As soon as panicked Will arrived at the bivy site, we grabbed a water bottle and my sleeping bag which was still stuffed inside the emergency bivy sack and began down climbing.  We were so fortunate to be in easy terrain and wouldn’t have used a rope for this section anyways. 

Less than a hundred feet below the bivy site, we came across some boulders that were piled up and made a natural shelter.  We crawled inside and both got in my sleeping bag.  We were wet and knew that staying warm was our most important priority.  I’m not sure the rocks would have offered protection from lightening, but we felt better knowing there was ground above us now and they kept us out of the rain.  The shelter felt cozy.  We mostly just sat inside holding hands and talking.  We were also able to collect a little rainwater in our bottle.  We kept one of our headlamps on just because the light was reassuring. 

After about 20 minutes or so, the rain began to let up.  While it felt good to be off the summit and summit ridge, we knew we’d be even safer further down.  We eventually turned off the headlamp to let our eyes adjust so that we’d be able to evaluate the sky.  It was difficult to see in the dark and we still had another two hours before daylight, but we agreed the sky looked ok and that it was time to get moving. 

We ascended the short distance back to the bivy site and Will continued up to grab his pack.  At the bivy, I removed my harness so that I wouldn’t have as much metal on my body and Will packed up the rope.  We also made the call to leave behind our ice axes which were acting as lightning rods.  We were sad to leave them behind but agreed it was the decision our parents would want us to make. 

The down climbing and route finding were initially straightforward.  The terrain was third class at most and we were able to follow some cairns.  Will was also kind enough to give me his powerful headlamp so I could see more clearly.  We descended past another great bivy site.  Soon after passing the bivy, we came to a spot where it looked like we had to make a significant down climb.  The climbing looked pretty easy, but it was hard to determine the amount of exposure in the dark.  We also weren’t confident that we needed to descend there even though it looked like our only option.  I wasn’t psyched about heading into the abyss without a rope, so we considered our options.  Will was more than happy to belay me down, but I didn’t have my harness on and it was tough to commit to losing so much elevation without being able to see clearly.

After spending a few minutes vacillating and getting cold, we decided to head back up to the bivy site we had just passed in order to wait for daylight.  Once at the bivy site, we crawled into our bags and snuggled up.  It was definitely the comfiest place we had laid down since Goat Pass, and we fell asleep almost immediately.

I think I woke up a little before 7:00.  The sun was up.  The sky was cloudy but it wasn’t raining.  I was still a little chilled, so Will gave me a couple hand warmers that he had gotten out before we went to sleep and I stuffed them in my sports bra.  I also removed my wet climbing pants so that I was just wearing rain pants.  Soon, we decided to get moving.  I went to the bathroom, organized our mess of a rack, and put my harness back on in preparation for the possible down climb.  Will also swapped his climbing shoes for his mountaineering boots. 

The descent was so much easier in the light.  The spot that seemed scary and exposed in the dark was a mere scramble.  We never even considered breaking out the rope again.  We laughed at the 10 feet of fifth class climbing we had to do just before entering the Cascadian…. We couldn’t believe it even deserved even a sentence in our guidebook after all we had encountered!  I quickly changed to my mountaineering boots, and the Cascadian descent was on.       

The Cascadian Couloir plunges several thousand feet down to Ingalls Creek.  It is mostly scree with nothing technical, but it is slow and painful.  Nevertheless, our spirits were high as we made our way down.  I think we were just relieved to be getting off of Mt. Stuart.  I’m pretty slow on descents and my feet were in extreme pain from the blisters and my new climbing shoes, so Will took some of my pack weight to help me out.  We stopped a couple times, but slow and steady was the name of our game.  I remember a lot of laughing and a lot of self-congratulations.  We encountered running water about two thirds of the way down, approximately 54 hours after we’d left Goat Pass with six liters each. 

When we finally made it to the valley floor, we found the Ingalls Creek Trail and headed west.  Our plan was to intersect the Longs Pass Trail where we would bear left, cross Ingalls Creek, and make our way up to Longs Pass.  I had used this exit route on previous adventures, so I wasn’t too worried about it.  However, Will and I had trouble locating the Longs Pass Trail.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t marked on our USGS map, and we expected to intersect it sooner.  To make matters worse, Will had used our route description as TP earlier in the morning.  Nothing about this adventure would come easily for us!  In fear that we’d somehow overshot and were headed all the way back to Stuart Pass, we backtracked, found a place to cross the creek, and bush-wacked in search of the trail to no avail.  Satisfied that we had exhausted this possibility, we resumed our painful march along the Ingalls Creek Trail and came across the intersection we were looking for just beyond the spot we had turned around.  We were stoked!

From the junction, it was a slog up to Longs Pass.  I think the elevation gain was well over 1,000 feet.  We took one break where we finished the last of our grub.  It was hot and I was still wearing my rain pants, so I rolled them up and took off my shirt…. Definitely a hot look!  Our spirits were still high though, and we knew we were on the home stretch.  The last few hundred feet in the sun were painful, but we got the job done.  Will was feeling a little beat, so we traded packs knowing that we would switch again at the pass for the rest of the descent. 

From Longs Pass, we bid our friend Stuart adieux and coasted the few miles back to the trailhead.  I can say with certainty that my feet have never been in so much agony.  We were both totally out of it but so grateful to have survived our adventure.  I already look back at Stuart with fondness.  I’m sure we carried more food, water, and gear than most parties and we are probably in a minority of parties who pitch out the entire route.  However, these were the right calls for us, and I haven’t second guessed a single decision we made along the route.  Mt. Stuart was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but both Will and I kept it together and were an amazing team.  Will was the best partner I could imagine, and I wouldn’t have attempted this route with anyone else.  I look forward to many, many more adventures together! 

 

 

The Food:

• 4 bags of granola with powdered milk
• 4 oatmeal packets
• 8 PBJ sandwiches
• 2 Footlong Subway sandwiches
• 1 pizza
• 1 petite loaf of garlic bread
• 4 string cheese sticks
• 1 Cadbury dark chocolate bar
• 4 Eskimo Cookie Delight Balls
• 6 protein bars for Kristy
• Bars, honey shots, and other snacks for Will

 

The Gear:

 

• Partial set of nuts, double set of cams to #3 (except just one Mr. Orange), and one #4 cam
• 60 meter half rope
• 30 meter glacier rope
• Ice axes
• Crampons
• JetBoil stove
• Puffin with ribbon