About Me

My photo
I like being outside if it's nice out. This includes mountain biking, trail running, sailing, climbing, skiing and much more. If you're going on a fun adventure, let me know!

Friday, November 11, 2011

Stonerabbit Peak

Sept 24, 2011

Back in September, Chris Tim and I scrambled up the amazing Southeast Face of Stonerabbit Peak. The route climbs 900m of coastal granite goodness, with minimum bushwacking, a rarity in this part of the world. We drove along the Chehalis Main line for 30km, all 2wd, and then turned off onto the Skwellepil Creek road. This spur road quickly turns into a water bar nightmare. With Chris's X-trail, we were able to bash our way up another 4km along the road with the highest density waterbars that I've seen. I'd recommend just taking a bike for this section. From where we parked (the road is washed out beyond), we hiked for another 4-5km to the end of the road. This happens to be the view from the end of the road.

The red line shows our approximate route on the face. We scrambled up on both sides of the creek, entering the bush when necessary to avoid wet boulder problems on the waterworn slabs. 

Chris venturing into the bush on our approach. This is approximately half way up the creek. Going down was much easier as we could just lower ourself off branches and shrubs.

Once we reached the base of the southeast face, we put on our rock shoes and started up the calf-burning lower angle slabs on the lower face. I was pretty happy that the rock looked dry. It had rained the previous morning, but the afternoon sun must have been enough to dry it out.

The route finding is fairly straightforward on the lower half of the face. The friendly angle and sticky rubber opens up numerous route choices on this wide open granite canvas.

Chris getting a full calf workout on the beautiful slabs.

The route is generally considered as solid and sustained 3rd and 4th class. With such a wide face, it's fairly easy to venture into more difficult terrain. A rope could possibly be used at the crux, however it would mostly be a body belay as the rock is generally compact and featureless, with the exception of this crack that Tim found.

Sunny slab scrambling in the Chehalis with an awesome view.

Chris and Tim climbed further to the right than I did. From Chris's position, he traversed along an exposed fault feature back over to where I was. I felt the route finding through this section was the most challenging, with a high potential to venture into more difficult slabs.

After a little bit of humming and hawing, I decided that this feature looked like the best way up. I think it was possible to head more to climber's left to gain a more bushy indistinct ridge, but this looked more aesthetic.

Chris making a delicate move on the crux slab. Fortunately he didn't have to change his underwear after this one. It's a long ways down from here. It would probably be possible to set up a body belay above here to guide up an less comfortable climber.

Meanwhile, Tim was still lost in the sea of granite below, trying to figure out the best way to reach our position.


Tim making the delicate slab moves on the crux. Both Chris and I were a little nervous watching Tim make this move. After this trip, Tim has been more inspired to go climbing. He even made a recent purchase of a shiny new harness, and two camalots to compliment his ancient rack of tricams, hexes and nuts. The rest of the scrambling was straightforward above here to the summit. We descended the west ridge, mostly bushy scrambling without any need for a rappel and then contoured back to the base of the southeast face to descend the creek.

This photo gives an illusion of some high speed driving on the Skwellepil Creek road. This is actually just a brief moment when Chris could accelerate between the closely-spaced waterbars. Out of the three of us, I think Chris was the most annoyed by how slow progress on the road was. He was able to vent some of this frustration by driving faster than normal on the way home. 

Not quite enough clearance. We spent another thirty minutes jacking up the car and removing the soil from beneath the frame. This ended up being an awesome day in the mountain, although it started off with some uncertainty on how far we could get up the road, and whether the face was dry or not.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Shuksan Fisher Chimneys

Sept 10-11, 2011

On the last sunny weekend of this past short summer, I resisted my urge to go rock climbing (mostly due to a lack of climbing partners) and instead joined Tim and Greg on a classic mountaineering trip across the border. The plan for the weekend was to climb the photogenic Mount Shuksan via the Fisher Chimneys. The route involves a scenic hike to the base of the west face, some pleasant scrambling, glacier travel and even some low 5th rock up high. 

After faffing at the ranger station to buy our parking pass and to register for a backcountry permit, we were off hiking towards Lake Ann by mid-morning. It was a good thing that we didn't wake up any earlier, as they aren't open until 8am. It took us about 3-4 hours of hiking to reach the base of the Fisher Chimneys, most of it through gorgeous meadows along the immaculate trail. This was a welcomed treat after bushwacking through the Chehalis on the previous weekend.

The trail approach as described in Alpine Select isn't completely clear. We botched the approach by following McLane's description to hike along the loose moraines left of the Lower Curtis Glacier. A much better approach takes a steeper trail off to the left before reaching the glacier that involves scrambling up a creek to access a higher and better trail that leads directly to the correct start of the Fisher Chimney. I probably should have checked the Beckey guide instead. I'm sure we weren't the first party to embark on the alternative starts.

Tim scrambling near the top of the Fisher Chimneys. Despite climbing the wrong gully at the start, we ended up back on route with some pleasant scrambling on surprisingly good rock (mostly greenschist) where it's seen traffic. The name of the route is a bit of a misnomer, it's more of a gully, mostly 3rd class, with some 4th class. 

This was a super casual trip with Tim. We had absolutely no urgency at all and we hung out in the shade on this rock for a while, just below Winnie's Slide, a moderately steep snow slope that's lucky enough to get a name.

Snow slogging with a view. The Baker ski area can be seen on the right side. 

Once we reached the Upper Curtis Glacier, we went north towards the col between the Upper Curtis Glacier and the Hanging Glacier to bivy. We enjoyed a great lazy afternoon and evening of napping in the sun. The summit is only another 400m above this spot, but we would take the long way around to climb it the easy way the next morning.

Stunning evening light on the Hanging Glacier. From my bivy site, I could hear the seracs collapsing all night long.

Evening light over Tim and Greg's bivy spot. 

It was a really nice evening. 

I didn't bring a tent, so I was glad to have found this awesome bivy spot on the col between the Upper Curtis Glacier and the Hanging Glacier. Talk about a room with a view!

My bivy spot and Mount Baker. Day trips are great, but sometimes it's nice to just spend more time on the mountain.


It was a perfect night to sleep under the magical stars, under the glow of the incredibly bright full moon.

A glowing moon next to Mount Baker.

Fully refreshed after sleeping for ten hours (in addition to our afternoon nap), we left our bivy spot at 7am to climb up to the Sulphide Glacier. 

The Sulphide Glacier is the standard route on the Shuksan. Greg has been that way twice previously and was happy to try a different route this time. 

Tim and Greg plodding up towards the summit pyramid. The easiest way goes up a 4th class gully in the middle of pyramid. We climbed the southeast ridge, which is the right skyline, which is something like 5.2. My friend Ran had climbed the ridge in his ski boots on the previous weekend, so I figured it must be pretty good!

The Sulphide Glacier with Baker Lake off in the hazy distant.

Greg and Tim climbing up the southeast ridge. Easy climbing, with fantastic views everywhere. A handful of nuts and tricams and slings are all that's needed for the occasional spot where protection was possible. This ridge is preferable to the gully, as we were less suspectible to rockfall from the busier gully.

Me and the North Cascades. Photo by Greg West.


Tim and Greg on the summit of Mount Shuksan. We descended down the standard gully, making one rappel along the way to bypass some unpleasant downclimbing.
Greg's Photos

The Sulphide Glacier and a very hazy view of the North Cascades. I keep meaning to explore more of this area, but my map wall doesn't cover these rugged peaks. 

Wildflowers and the Curtis Glacier.

Tim and Greg hanging out below Lake Ann, looking back at our route. It took another hour or two for us to hike out in the blazing heat. We finished the trip off with some burgers and tasty beers to cap off this fun and enjoyable excursion. What a great totally casual weekend in the mountains! Until next time, with skis!

More of my Photos

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Chehalis Ramblings

Sept 2-4, 2011 

Over the Labour Day long weekend, Nick Elson and I climbed the Viennese-Clarke Traverse and the Tuning Fork on Bardean Peak. This was two and a half days of travelling in unfamiliar terrain, covering a significant amount of elevation and distance over bits of logging road, steep forest, alpine ridges, rambly meadows, glacier slabs, steep face climbing, bushwacking and even a bear encounter. The Chehalis Range consists of a group of rugged granitic peaks located north of Chilliwack, BC, between Harrison Lake and Stave Lake. This area has held my interest for a long time, but access always seemed difficult. With news of renewed access to this area, I started to think more of getting into this area for a few days. It only takes a quick browse through Alpine Select to realize that a significant number of the technical routes highlighted there are located on a handful of peaks here.

A quick email to Nick sparked his interest and he replied with emails containing highly ambitious plans. I'm not a rockstar climber like Nick and his other climbing partners, so I suggested that we try the least ambitious of the plans. It's easy to dream big when you're heading into a new area, unfamiliar with the scale and length of the approaches and only fuelled by a desire to tick off the big classics.
We drove up the Harrison West FSR and onto the Mystery Creek FSR on Friday evening to give ourselves a head start the next day. The only problem was Nick's car, which didn't have functioning headlights. Everything was going well on the logging road, until we finally caught our first glimpse of the peaks. Moments later, with both of us hunched over the steering wheel and dashboard and distracted, the car collided with a rock. Fortunately the damage was only cosmetic and we continued by the dim glow of the hazard lights to our parking spot.

The South Face of Viennese Peak poking out through the thin clouds

The next morning, we followed our directions to the Statlu Lake trailhead and continued up the pleasant trail to Statlu Lake. Low clouds hung above the lake, but in the distance we caught our first glance of Mount Bardean, an impressive chunk of coastal granite. The forecast called for clouds clearing by noon. With that in mind, we kept an easy pace from here to Upper Statlu Lake and upwards in hopes of clear weather when we reached the alpine. We reached the col east of Peak 6500 four and a half aways after leaving the cars. We continued up and over Peak 6500 and started scrambling up the east ridge of Vienesse Peak. An exposed section between the summit required the rope and the lingering clouds added to the ethereal atmosphere. We missed our cloud window on the summit and made one rappel off the southwest face to gain an exposed traverse on somewhat loose holds to regain the easy ridge crest. From here, we continued the ridge rambling up and over Recourse Peak. The incredible clean upper slabs of Derektissima beckoned below. Years ago and still new to the world of climbing, my good friend Boris suggested that we climb this remote eighteen pitch route. I'm glad we played Halo instead that weekend instead of getting ourselves into a likely epic. 

Nick looking over towards the east ridge of Viennese Peak, which came in and out of the clouds 

The clouds added to the exposure of this pitch which Nick lead to the summit of Viennese

The rugged glaciated north side of Mount Clarke 

Granite and Fog 

Nick on the way up to Recourse Peak 

The next section of technical climbing was the east ridge of Mount Clarke. From a far, the ridge was uninviting, steep with what looked like precariously placed blocks stacked onto top of the ridge. This turned out to hold the best ridge of the Viennese-Clarke traverse, with a number of face cracks to climb along. We reached the summit after a few pitches and continued rambling along the long summit ridge. We descended the northwest ridge and got a better view of our planned route for the next day, the North Ridge of Clarke. What we saw didn't look promising. A kilometre away and several hundred metres below, we could only see what looked like wide crevasses and a large moat barring easy access to the toe of the ridge. Under equipped with only approach shoes and crampons and without a means to protect ourselves on the broken up maze of snow and ice, we bailed on that route. We continued rambling along meadows, snow patches and glacial slaWebs in the fading evening sun towards our bivy spot below Mount Ratney to conclude our fourteen hour day. 

Good climbing on the east ridge of Mount Clarke

Judge Howay hovering out of the clouds


Nick on our evening stroll towards our bivy site below Bardean and Ratney.

Nick reflecting on a great day in the mountains.

The next morning, we cramponed across frozen snow to the base of the Tuning Fork on the north face of Mount Bardean. During the trek the evening before, this impressive face dominated the view. The Tuning Fork fork is reputed as one of the great classic alpine climbs of southwestern British Columbia. We were both hoping that the climbing on the lower buttress would go by quickly. Instead, it turned out into a vertical grovel up bushy corners, battling wide cracks and rope drag for three pitches. We were only able to simu-climb a short section of 3rd class terrain before the difficulties increased again. From here, we looked up onto the wide and blank wall, somewhat confused the myriad of possibilities up here. The only guiding hint was to aim for a "large, obvious left-facing dihedral which is capped by a prominent roof which juts out leftward." This wasn't quite so obvious to get to. Nick and I climbed a few tough and uncertain pitches between I finally gained the dihedral. Even so, while hanging out and the top of the dihedral and belaying Nick up, I wasn't sure if the traverse line out left was the one described in the guidebook. Protection was challenging up here due to the compact nature of the rock. At the end of one long pitch over easy terrain below the summit, I was only able to build a marginal anchor of a blue metolius and another nut. It was a relief when Nick arrived at the belay and was able to beef up my anchor with another cam. The final pitch to the summit proved to be one of the more challenging pitches. From my belay, Nick tried two corners that proved to be too difficult before continuing up more steep unprotected climbing before another tenuous traverse to gain easier terrain. As I made that traverse on top rope, I tried not to think of what might happen if I fell and slammed into the overhanging corner below. I think we could have found easier terrain further to the right though. 

Early morning cramponing across snow slopes to reach the toe of the Tuning Fork 
Nick leading the first burly pitch off the ground. This pitch was followed by vertical bushwacking.

Nick leading some difficult and uncertain terrain in the middle of the Tuning Fork

Protection was sparse. At least the rock was good here.

Nick climbing up into the "obvious dihedral." It's not entirely obvious from below.

Nick traversing out into the unknown.

Nick leading the final pitch to the summit.

The descent off Mount Bardean is non-trivial. We still had to scramble to the summit of Ratney Peak. It was pretty cool to be up here though, with great views of some impressive peaks such as Judge Howay and Robie Reid. From the top of Ratney Peak, we made several rappels down it's north ridge. The guidebook describes the option of one rappel and then either "slabby downclimbing or a few more rappels" but we were far more comfortable making the rappels instead. once the ridge levelled out, we rappelled down and onto what looked like the best spur off the ridge that would get us back to the bivy site. Again, more rappels were required, draining out our limited supply of webbing and cordalettes. In hindsight, the next spur along the ridge might have only required one rappel followed by more downclimbing. We plodded back to our bivy site, feeling more exhausted than what we anticipated. We looked across at our next planned objective, the Hidden Pillar and contemplated our options. It didn't take long for the two of us, both masters of coming up with excuses, to reason that we were under equipped with this route too, lacking pitons and anchor material. It took us about eight hours to climb the route and another four hours to descend. 

Nick and I on the summit of Ratney Peak.

A view of the Clarke group.

The northeast face of Stonerabbit Peak, and Robie Reid in the background.

Finally back on solid ground after many unexpected rappels.

Evening alpenglow on Mount Bardean

The next morning, we wasted no time traversing the snow slopes and running across a ticking time bomb of seracs. It wasn't obvious where the route goes, but we bushwhacked along a forested ridge west of steep outwash couloir. Many years ago, Jeremy Frimer had put in some trailwork here, but the only a few trimmed branches remained as evidence. So much for minimal bushwacking. We dropped down into the valley bottom and chose to walk and wade along the Chehalis River to reach Statlu Lake. The alternative were a series of heavily slide-aldered rockslides between bands of dense timber on the south side of the river. It was a pleasant stroll along the river, cooling our heels in the crystal clear water. The only other signs of life that we saw on this weekend was one bear, two other hikers and a dog that tried to attack Nick (I think the dog thought Nick was a bear due to his scraggly facial hair) and one fisherman who had flown in. 

Our bivy site below Ratney Peak. Granite slabs and running water made this spot quite memorable.

Objective hazard on the way out.

In summary, the Chehalis is a pretty cool place that doesn't see a lot of traffic, with plenty of rock to wet your appetite. The Viennese-Clarke traverse is highly recommended. It would either be a very strenuous day trip, a two day trip or a relaxed three day trip. I think the best option is to drive up the night before, carry light bivy gear and climb the Viennese-Clarke traverse, possibly bivying on either Recourse or Clarke to catch an amazing sunset. And then complete the traverse the next day and hike out. Fun!

More Photos
Nick's Excellent Trip Report
Current Access Information into Statlu Lake
Inspiring Supertopo Thread about the Chehalis climbing history