Lane Peak’s North Face with Lover’s Lane coming up from the bottom left

Lover's Lane on Lane Peak

April 28, 2019

With some colder weather, consolidated spring snow following a warm spell, and a short weather window, I talked Colin into heading down to Rainier and getting on one of the couloirs of Lane Peak. When we got to the Narada Falls parking lot on Sunday morning at about 9:15am, I scoped out the face with some binoculars and it seemed like Lover’s Lane would go.

We hiked up the steep face to the road, went around to the bend, descended through the trees, and were at the base of the North face in about 35 minutes. We put crampons on and racked up on the flat before heading up the slope towards our couloir.

The snow was nice and firm, but still gave a little for steps. Since Colin is getting used to more wintery routes, we decided to rope up and throw in some protection along the way. Where the couloir necked down, I found a cam on the left and proceeded to put in one piece every 20 meters or so in order to always have one thing on our doubled-in-half 60m twin rope. The conditions were so much fun that I let out some whoops and was having a grand time. At the high constriction, there was even enough ice to pop in a screw and we got full swings into the neve above for another 50 feet or so.

At the top of the couloir, I descended to the far side and put Colin on belay from the tree anchor. We did the double rope rap down into The Zipper and then soloed up to the top of it quickly, doing our best Ueli Steck impressions. From there, we curled around to the South side and followed the gully to the top, where we ate our lunch and watched the clouds roll in.

The descent went smoothly and we were back at the car about 4h 45m after we’d started. Really fun climb in great condition right now.

Enjoying some exposure on the final section to the summit

North Arete on Matterhorn Peak

September 10, 2018

Goran originally planned to fly up to Seattle for a fall weekend in the Cascades, but the weather up here wasn’t great, so we switched to a 3-day weekend in the Sierra, targeting the Evolution Traverse. I flew into San Jose late on Friday night and we drove toward Tioga Pass, hoping to sleep at 9,000 feet to acclimatize a bit. Unfortunately, traffic and my motion sickness delayed us a bit and we spent the night on the other side of Yosemite at only 5,000 feet or so. We started the drive decently early on Saturday morning and made a stop in Mammoth for provisions before busting down to Bishop and packing up.

We quickly hiked up and over Lamarck Col to get to the Darwin Bench in about 4.5 hours, hoping to start the traverse that day, but the elevation hit us like a ton of bricks as we went around the Darwin Canyon lakes. Goran was feeling pretty nauseous and I got quite the headache. We ended up spending the night and deciding it would be best to save the traverse for a time when we were better acclimated, so we hiked out and then did some cragging in Pine Creek Canyon as a consolation prize before deciding to use our last day to climb Matterhorn Peak.

After camping nearby, we crossed the creek and started hiking at 6am. The trail was pretty quick and we found a pretty efficient way up the cross-country section. The sun-cupped glacier was also easy travel, so it was only the last few hundred vertical feet up loose scree that was slow going. We made it to the base of the route in about 3.5 hours and then started simul-climbing around 10am. The terrain was mostly pretty mellow, so we made good time, reaching the corner pitch (which was quite fun) about an hour later and then getting to the true summit at about noon.

It was a bit chilly in the shade as we went, but we kept moving pretty fast and eventually got back in the sun for the last section. Our lunch on top was lovely and warm with great views. We started our descent at about 12:30pm and got to the car at 4:15pm for a 10.25-hour day. Fun route and nice peak, though I would have liked a bit higher climb:approach ratio!

Adam, following the crux roof pitch with the summit’s shadow behind

NE Buttress on Slesse Mountain Attempt

September 1, 2018

Slesse had been on the list for a long time. The Northeast Buttress rises from the valley in a striking, obvious line and the route made its way into The 50 Classic Climbs of North America. Timing on Slesse seems to be a bit tricky, with a waiting game for the Pocket Glacier to slide, and lots of wildfire smoke the last couple of summers in July and August, but a desire to get up there with longer summer days and better weather.

After climbing the Northeast Buttress on Colchuck Peak together earlier this summer, Adam and I set plans to head up for Slesse over Labor Day weekend. The forecast ended up being pretty solid for that time of year, so we decided to go for it when the time came.

Having never been in the area before, we thought it wise to bring bivy gear and be prepared in case we didn’t get through the route in a day. Saturday was a late start for a number of reasons, so we decided to hike up and camp at the propeller cairn and get a fairly early start from there on Sunday. My Subaru Outback miraculously made it within about 10 minutes of the trailhead on the rocky road and we made it up to camp on Saturday in just over 2 hours.

On Sunday, we started moving at about 5:30am—we wanted time on the route, but also wanted to start climbing with some light. It was pretty quick to get over the notch and across the Pocket Glacier slabs, which meant we were heading up the exposed 4th class ramps at about 6:30am. Most of the Pocket Glacier had slid, but a huge chunk was still looming at the top of the cirque and we walked quickly under it to get to the route.

The ledge and treed lower sections went fast and we got to the first slab 5th class pitch at about 7:15am. I took this one in approach shoes, which was nearly a mistake as the terrain was steeper and slabbier than it looked with not much protection, but it went. Adam then headed up the 5.7-5.8 pitch to gain the upper ridge. I swung through and tried to decide which feature to follow from there. An anchor was on the left at the ridge crest while signs of other parties were everywhere. I ended up going up a slightly dirty set of features right of the crest and found an anchor when rope drag got nasty. We’d later learn that the nice cracks in this section were just to our right by about 20 feet.

Adam headed through and brought us up to the base of the crux, where a big horn had a ton of tat on it. I centered my chi and started up the fingers section. The climbing wasn’t too bad, but the overnight pack with still about 3 liters of water in it fought me a bit. I ended up finding a way through the roof by cutting slightly right and then back left through the steepest terrain and got up to a section with good gear where I made an anchor and brought Adam up.

He had a similar battle with his pack on this pitch, but got through it. The terrain eased from there up to a ledge where he stopped and brought me up. I pulled through that short, steep band and walked across the small grassy ledges above it where I made another anchor and brought him up. This next pitch seemed to be where the direct and indirect lines met back up for a 5.7 flake pitch that brought us to the big bivy ledge. Adam took this one and we took a break on the nice, flat ground of the ledge.

What had been a decently quick pace for us up to the technical climbing had slowed considerably for whatever reasons—route finding, packs, hydration, nutrition—I’m not sure. It was about 5pm at this point. The weather was still looking good, but it seemed clear to both of us that, if we continued up, we’d be climbing the last technical pitches in the dark and would be spending the night on the summit. Adam was feeling a bit fatigued and so we were worried that our pace wouldn’t pick up, so we made the call to spend the night and finish the next day—we had the gear, water, and food for it.

After taking a nap, we woke up for dinner in a complete whiteout. It seemed good decisions had been made. I used my satellite phone to check in on the weather and saw at this point that the chance of rain overnight had increased to 30% and that late Monday was supposed to be pretty bad. We were committed to spending the night with our down bags and no tent or bivy sacks to protect us, so we brainstormed how to stay dry enough. We rigged up a frame with our rack and rope off a boulder that we could put our ridge rests on top of to act like a little roof in case it got bad in the middle of the night and then went to bed.

At about 3am, we awoke to rain and rigged up our shelter. It wasn’t perfect, but it helped a bit. After a while, the rain stopped again. We went through this cycle a few times through the course of the night until 7am or so when we decided it was time to make a call—up or down. We were still in a whiteout and the rock had gotten pretty soaked. We decided that, even if it cleared up enough to safely climb, we would be making a big gamble that the descent would be clear enough to follow. At least we knew the way down, even if it was going to be a bear to bail. So we bailed.

Looking back up from the propeller cairn

We carefully picked our way down, leaving a handful of nuts and slings on the upper buttress before getting to the lower buttress where more fixed anchors were in place. Our first rap was especially demoralizing as our anchor was set too far back from the ledge and I ended up needing to ascend the rope to extend the anchor so we could pull it. We simul down-climbed the treed buttress and access ramp, which was a bit treacherous when wet, but was protectable. By 2:15pm, we were out of the business. It had been a pretty intense 5-6 hours and, while we were disappointed to not be finishing the route, we were both happy to have gotten out of that mess. Looking up at the summit as we walked out, it stayed shrouded in clouds the whole time. A little under 3 hours after getting off the route, we were at the car, taking the edge off with a beer, feeling pretty thankful. As we drove back to Seattle, it seemed like the weather up North closed in even more, which further affirmed our call to bail.

I’ll certainly be back. Next time should be a bit earlier in the season for more daylight and better weather. It’ll be quite a bit faster up there next time.