"All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible"
-T.E. Lawrence
This quote and its message has followed me around for a long time, even longer than I had dreamed of climbing in the Gunsight Range. My eyes first crossed these lines in the book Touching the Void years ago way before technical alpine climbing was something I could even grasp.
Climbing the West Face of North Gunsight Peak free, with Deni, really was a dream come true. Climbing super hard, at my limit in an ultra alpine setting with Deni on the other end of the rope was so cool, I'll never forget that day.
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| The Gunsight Range and the Blue Glacier |
The first day of our trip began with an alpine start at my parents house in Seattle to catch the ferry to Stehekin from Fields point. We looked out of place with huge bulging packs, and a bright pink climbing rope strapped to the top of my pack. Everyone asked what we were climbing; Bonanza? Nope, the Gunsights! They would respond with a confused look and wish us good luck.
After the ferry we jumped on the bus to High Bridge just before a church group piled on with big packs. Their perky leader quizzed us on our plans, took pictures of our maps and beta. He told us they weren't quite sure about their plans yet but it looked like we had quite an adventure planned and maybe they would follow us up there. I was mortified. We had plans to go into a remote corner of the North Cascades and now, a herd was preparing to follow us
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| Deni at the TH |
Deni: The bus followed the Stehekin river and we were not excited to lug our packs up 8 miles of the PCT but, we knew at some point, the suffering was inevitable. The day was hot as we stepped off the bus and we were once again quizzed by many thru-hikers. Finally, away from all the people and our packs hoisted on our backs, we started off on the trail. It was generally flat, but it was still hard to put one foot in front of the other. I had a piercing headache and Lance's pack had small hip straps, making the journey less than comfortable. We breaked every hour, refueling on water and scarfing down snacks. Finally, after about 4.5 hours of hiking we arrived at Swamp Creek campground. After soaking our feet in the ice cold river and making a delicious dinner, we closed our eyes, our day on the trail was complete!
The next day we woke up anticipating another long day to the base of the Gunsight range. We followed the beta from various trip reports on Cascadeclimbers.com and guidebooks. A mile past swamp creek we found a deteriorating wooden foot bridge which was more moss than wood but we figured this was the right spot and began our bushwhack down to Agnes creek. We found a log to cross which Deni really wasn't too excited about but it was our only option. At this point we found ourselves alone in the wilderness surrounded by devils club, slide alder and huge trees, no sign of humans existed.
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| Convenient, but sketchy log crossing |
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| Off trail in the alpine! epic views! |
Devil's Club, Vine Maple, Slide Alder, Huckleberry, Blueberry forever and ever! We made little progress as we attempted to get to a tree line that would have "relatively less vegetation". A few hours of bushwacking later we finally reached a ridge that seemed more manageable to ascend. However, we were now met with a steep slope. The bugs were so bad that when we rested we pulled out our mesh inner tent to hide under. The day was hot and we were running low on water, and the end of this miserable bushwack was no where near. We (miraculously) found a flat spot and quickly pitched our tent for a mid-afternoon nap. We were both exhausted. We awoke and started the upward battle again, this time a little speedier. Finally, we broke treeline and were greeted by epic granite slabs and peaks everywhere! Based on our pace, which was not fast, we knew that making it to the base of the climb today was an impossible goal. We had 1/2 liter of water left and there was no snow in sight. I was getting worried, but Lance insisted on forging ahead. We decided to make for an unnamed lake on the way to the Gunsights in hope for a good bivy and plenty of water. Slowly, now on the ridge, we traversed left, every step a hot, sweaty struggle. Next break...no water...no snow. Exhausted, thirsty. Then, about half hour later...a miracle! A stream! We gorged ourselves on water and climbed another hundred feet to a snow patch and our bivy site for the night. From here, we catch our first look at the east side of the Gunsights. They are beautiful, epic, unique, and REMOTE.
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| The Gunsights, and the locals |
The next day, we slept in, knowing we would not have enough energy to climb. Instead, we set off at a leisurely pace to the base of Blue Glacier where we relaxed, ate snacks and enjoyed the views above our base camp. In the afternoon, we decided to explore and get our bearings of the area. The rock and setting reminds us of the Enchantments! We traversed across the Blue Glacier to a notch in the rocky ridge and scramble to the top, and are floored with amazing views of Sinister and Dome and the gnarly Chikamin Glacier, hugging the West side of the Gunsights. We discussed potential approach beta scoped out routes on Dome and barely caught our first glimpse of the North Peak's West Face which we decided would be the next day's objective.
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| Deni scopes the East Face of Main Gunsight Peak |
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| Sinister, Dome and the awesome Chikimin Glacier |
Anticipation and nerves burned at me the entire evening, doubt would creep in,
can I pull through that 5.11+ crux? Will the gear be good? If one of us gets hurt.....we're so far out....
Then next morning my aluminum crampons refused to stay attached to my boots, not a good start to the day. Eventually we were at the base of the West Face we traversed high around the range weaving between granite boulders on snow fingers. The West Face explodes out of the glacier, I knew it would be steep but this face is STEEP! Crack systems went everywhere but never really crossed, and they look so thin and flaring, it was daunting for sure. We noticed the corner and flake system slicing right down from the apex of the face to approximately mid height. We figured this must be the last two pitches of the route. Below that was a pure white granite face with thin looking cracks and knobs, we knew that must be the crux! I was so relieved to see those cracks and knobs but I knew they must be thin to warrant the 5.11+ grade
Finally, after some scrambling around and up a long broad ledge, Lance with his keen eyes, spotted what we thought was the first pitch (5.9+). Delicate, insecure climbing with marginally small gear greeted you off the ground and then a juggy run out to the belay. The crux pitch was next. Lance seemed calm, confident and focused!
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| The West Faces of the Gunsight Range |
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| Cool ledge across the base of the wall |
Here we were at the base of the crux, it was time to answer all those questions that had run through my mind for weeks. It was time to quiet all the doubts. I started up the slab cursing at my light rack and the limited gear opportunities, finally I found a placement for a tiny, but bomber cam. Now, at least I wouldn't go all the way to the belay if I messed this up. I kept moving up and left to the best looking cracks, I found surprisingly good holds but the wall kept ramping off, every chance I could I rested, and focused my mental energy. I moved into the crux, a perfect pod for a .75 cam appeared, making me very happy. I placed the cam and charged into the crux hoping for the best, the cracks were flaring and the chickenheads were slippery. I fell three times, the first fall was big, the exposure and alpine setting started to creep in. Finally on my fourth try my mind was quiet, I stopped trying so hard and just did it, pulling through the crux felt so good, a huge sense of accomplishment flooded through me. Above the crux I fumbled in some more cams and eventually found a belay for Deni. She sailed through the crux, I gave her a little beta but she had no problem due to her natural talent for balancy and sequencey climbing.
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| Deni launches on Pitch 1 |
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| Deni getting stoked for the 5.11+ crux |
The next pitch...5.10+, a physical crux this time. Lance made a wild gymnastic move off the belay to gain flaring cracks and some shit gear opportunities. At the top of this pitch, an overhanging handcrack was a welcome change from the flaring finger cracks below. The last cruxy pitch was a steep, wide corner that demanded contrived climbing. It was a long, vertical battle! Even in the face of physical exhaustion, Lance went into "warrior" mode, leading this with finesse and determination.
It felt good to be above the crux pitch, but the next couple pitches looked daunting and I could feel the exhaustion. I had really worked us into a difficult situation. I knew we had to climb ourselves out of this spot, Upward Escape was the only option. Rapping down with our short rope would be expensive and difficult. I started climbing up and up, all the hanging belays were killing us, our feet hurt and we were getting more and more disorganized and strung out. Finally I found a ledge after traversing right on a featured slab. As Deni followed struggling with the pack on the steep climbing I cheered her on, and promised her food and water on the ledge.
After three consecutive hanging belays, each one less comfortable than the last, we were pleased to rest on a small ledge. One final push to the summit, up blocky, easy climbing brought us to the summit plateau. We lay here, in the middle of the cascades with the sun on our faces, in near tears from our triumphant climb! We spotted the original summit registrar and opened up a rusty canister full of 3 brown and faded papers and one more recent document. I felt chills when handling this mountain history in my hands! The first ascent of this peak was in 1965, and Fred Beckey, Jim Nelson, Blake Herrington, and Jens Holsten had signed the registrar, we felt psyched and privileged to be up on this mountain that so few enjoy and putting our names down next to these Cascade Pioneers was so cool . We scrambled up 20 feet of weird climbing to the true summit, pleased to see rap tat in relatively good condition.
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| Summit stoke |
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| Summit Register! |
After our summit celebration and addition to the register we began the adventure of getting down. I was beginning to feel our warm sun and daylight slipping away, time to go!
A couple rappels and some tedious downclimbing over loose rock brought us down the adjacent peak to the Chikamin glacier. It was scary to see large boulders shift their weight as your hands and feet lightly danced around them, praying you wouldn't knock one loose. Just before the last rappel, the scariest moment of the climb occurred. We had exchanged our climbing shoes for boots in preparation for the snow below, and I was anxious to remove the clanging hardware from my harness. Lance wanted to wait, he said "Lets do it when we are on the glacier and out of the firing zone", I was pretty miserable and responded with "It will take 2 minutes, its killing me!" Lance agreed "ok, well lets do it under this cave", literally moments later a huge rockfall occurs and if we hadn't been under the cave, we would have been nailed.
Lesson learned. Listen to your partner, do not underestimate the mountains, things happen quickly and without warning! We promptly decided to get the f**k off the mountain and made the last rappel and ninja move onto the snow. Back on solid ground again, we cruised the steep snow over the col and back down to the tent, and stumbled into camp. We cooked an amazing dinner and reveled in the accomplishments of the day.
After narrowly evading being squashed like a tiny bug by boulders many times our weight I was extremely anxious to get down to the glacier. We rigged our last rappel quickly and simul-rapped down to the moat, of course there would be a big moat. Hanging there together was nice, because we formulated a plan and Deni could get an ice axe the pack for me. 3, 2, 1! I launched myself out from the wall while Deni jumped up, this resulted in me flying towards the ice, where I managed to stick the ice axe and drag myself up on to the snow. Then Deni easily followed with me holding the ropes. We both felt like alpine ninjas.
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| Deni on the descent |
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| Lance on the descent |
The walk down to camp was a great time for reflection. I was amazed with our drive and tenacity, both of us had been pushed to our limits in every possible way but we never broke down, we never lost control. Our brief rock fall encounter was scary but it gave me confidence in my ability to assess risk and make good decisions in the alpine, the whole descent I was hyper aware of rock fall and our safety. Up there we had a really small margin of error, Deni and I are both WFR's and have practiced our self rescue skills intensely, but only in a gym, with ideal conditions. If one of us was to get hurt, it would require a heroic effort by the other. I love being in the alpine, I love the sense of adventure, stretching that umbilical cord from civilization as far as possible gets me fired up. I'm glad places like this exist, these faraway wonderlands where simple laws of nature still rule and the balance between gravity and friction define the possible.
The next morning we were sore and exhausted from the previous day's adventure so we decided to take the day to rest, despite the splitter weather. After a day of rest, we decided that the East Face (5.10d) would be tomorrow's objective so we got all packed up for an early ascent. That night, our tent shook from intense wind. We were camped on an exposed ridge and wind seemed to whip right through our tent, at times I swear our tent floor lifted off the ground! We barely slept! At daybreak, we poked our heads out of the tent and were bummed out when a cold bitter wind slapped us in the face and a dark ominous cloud temporarily engulfed the Gunsights. From the warmth of our sleeping bags, it looked miserable up there! We worried that if it began to thunderstorm, we would be dangerously exposed on this ridge in a not-so-weather-proof tent. With today looking bleak and the forecast predicting similar scenarios for the next few days, we hastily packed up our things as more clouds moved in and the bitter wind picked up. As we began the journey down, I feared we would be descending the long bushwack down in the rain. But, the farther we traveled from the large peaks, the weather got better! The hike out would prove to be just as strenuous and patient-trying, as the hike in.
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| One last pic! |
Our abrupt departure from the Gunsights after climbing the West Face was quite a bummer. It felt like buying the car of your dreams and having it stolen the next day, but we also felt fortunate to have had success on our first time into the Gunsights. I have heard rumors of poor souls who get to the Gunsights only to sit in the rain for days and days. I knew the descent was going to be very challenging and descending in the rain or after a heavy storm would be a nightmare and potentially very dangerous.
We down climbed seemingly forever on scree to gain the treeline below. Once we reached the treeline, picking our line of descent was not so easy, we needed to stay in the trees and avoid the bushes, but we couldn't keep traversing East. Finally, we committed to a patch of trees. They soon ended and spit us out into a huge swath of vine maple and slide alder. The slope was so steep and the bushes so thick that it was a challenge to stay upright and we both swore, floundered and felt swallowed by the bush many times. The battle of the bushes ensued the whole way down, for hours. I felt like I was in some fucked up maze that I would never emerge from. Even Lance's patience was wearing thin and he has the patience of a stone. After about 5 long miserable hours we were back to the river, we crossed the log and were back to the luxury trail! So pleased to have just dirt beneath our feet, we hustled to swamp creek.
At the Swamp Creek campground we filled our water bottles and munched on snacks. I knew the last bus from the trailhead was at 6:15 and it was already almost 2:30. The promise of beer and a restaurant got me thinking maybe we could just barely make it. Deni seemed interested in trying so we began to charge down the trail. My whole body ached and hurt, my feet and shoulders were nothing but pain, my unpadded pack had worn a massive blister on my back and I could feel burning flesh every step. We kept charging, I would look back and Deni was still just barely behind me. 6:09 came and we were so close, when Deni caught up to me, she was in tears and miserable, but she wanted to keep going. Her determination inspired me to run the last bit to the trail head and force the driver to wait.
We practically ran the next 8 miles in 3 hours. I channelled my inner olympic-power-walker and Lance took giant, bounding strides down the trail, both of us willing our feet one more mile, one more mile! By the end, I felt delusional and in tears and Lance was not faring much better, but as we rounded the corner we saw the bus, and ran to it, hopping on with minutes to spare! Phew, what an epic way to end this crazy adventure!
We hadn't seen another human being in a while, and we smelled bad. It was a great combo. As the bus pulled out of high bridge, and away from one of the most remote and beautiful places I have ever been, all of the suffering, struggle and obstacles disappeared and all I felt was a sense of awe and gratitude for the mountains that hosted us for the week!
While we only completed one climb, and many might think for a high cost, it was totally worth it! It is rare that you can find such an intense adventure void of people with quality alpine climbing in the lower 48 states.
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| Cheers! |
