Black Peak. NE Ridge. July 2, 2013
Today was a pretty awesome day. First peak summit of the summer.
I woke up at 4:15 am. Allie and I planned on leaving Bellingham at 530, and this would give me enough time to make a proper breakfast and get to her house. Being that I didn't get to bed until 11:30, I was surprisingly alert for the predawn awakening.
By 9am we were on the trail up to Maple Pass. We traversed over the pass and down below Corteo Peak. We walked on sun-cupped snow, past one half thawed lake and then another which was still frozen solid. There was much more snow than either of us imagined.
"Ooh! Ahh!" I said more frantically than admirably. I waved my arms in an excited fashion, similar to the spastic movements of Team America dolls.
"What is it," Allie asked?
"That!" I pointed towards the south.
She gazed at Black Peak, "I know, it'll be so fun!"
"Not the peak, the goat!" Which was now about 20 feet away, sauntering all goat like right towards us.
There were a few seconds of observing this mountain creature before I asked, "is he coming for us?"
"It seems so. Yes, he definitely is." At 5 feet away, the goat looked at us through creepy eyes, horns directed at us. I clapped my hands and he jumped back. We both made noise and he started walking away. He stalked us for a while, but eventually lost interest.
This next section will make us sound like rookies, but everyone has to have those days. We plotted our route up the snowfield to the NE Ridge of Black Peak. Being that the description mentioned the snow not exceeding 30 degrees and the temps being 80 or so, we left axes behind. Conditions for kicking steps were perfect and super bomber so we climbed upward. Well, the snow went way beyond 30 degrees and was interrupted by cliff bands. We booted to the top of the snowfield avoiding glide cracks, stopping directly below Black. To keep from falling down, we walked across the top of the moat. At one point we climbed down into the moat, decided that wasn't a great idea and then scurried back out to the snowfield. Well, this was awkward. We both donned spike like rocks, more for mental assurance than actual function, and traversed along the moat once more until the snowpack turned the corner and ramped up even more steeply.
We both had screaming barfies at different times and Allie was the first one to decide this steep snow business wasn't ideal. She stemmed from the snowpack, across the moat to the rock wall. It was chossy and I envisioned a slip up there would result in a fall onto this steep snowfield, resulting in catastrophe. I stuck to the snow until the booting got less bomber and resigned to also stemming onto the rock. Once in the moat (twice in one day!) I decided the best route for me would be stemming between the rock and snow walls of the moat, climbing around the choss-pile that Allie was navigating. Turns out the rock in the moat was crumbling as well, and as pieces fell from under my left boot, I'd move it up to the next loosely piled stack. It was amusing, and I was greatly relieved to join Allie on a nice solid piece of rock. From there, it was back into the moat (really, again?) and up once more to the top of the saddle. Finally, we were on our route.
The route was pretty straight forward. You stay on the ridge, or as close to the ridge as possible. Any straying too far to either side results in a dead end. We roped up and simulclimbed the entire ridge. There were times when pieces teetered on precarious edges, and brick sized rocks fell creating an echo off the valley walls.
The rock improved as the climb went on, but the occasional thought of falling due to rock failure did creep in to my mind once or twice. On the last 40 or so feet, Allie climbed up and around the dark side of the ridge. I got a weird feeling and tucked myself away in an alcove. I could hear the sound of rock shifting on rock up above and looked around. One piece had been placed right in front of me. I didn't remove it. If Allie were to scream, I'd move towards the opposite side of the ridge rapidly. Could that piece hold? To be safe I even considered that I would have thrust myself over the edge, allowing the ridge to catch us. "ROCK!" Allie knocked one free but I was protected in my spot.
Apparently, that was the only time Allie felt uneasy. Being that Allie was climbing on a fresh pile of unconsolidated rock, it was obvious that not many people went over to that area. After this we scrambled to the summit, chilled for a bit and then started making our way down the South Route. It's one gully followed by another, which was stopped early by snow. We glissaded and made our way back to the trailhead via our approach.
Car to car: 11-12 hours.
Weather: Beautiful PNW summer weather.
I woke up at 4:15 am. Allie and I planned on leaving Bellingham at 530, and this would give me enough time to make a proper breakfast and get to her house. Being that I didn't get to bed until 11:30, I was surprisingly alert for the predawn awakening.
By 9am we were on the trail up to Maple Pass. We traversed over the pass and down below Corteo Peak. We walked on sun-cupped snow, past one half thawed lake and then another which was still frozen solid. There was much more snow than either of us imagined.
"Ooh! Ahh!" I said more frantically than admirably. I waved my arms in an excited fashion, similar to the spastic movements of Team America dolls.
"What is it," Allie asked?
"That!" I pointed towards the south.
She gazed at Black Peak, "I know, it'll be so fun!"
"Not the peak, the goat!" Which was now about 20 feet away, sauntering all goat like right towards us.
There were a few seconds of observing this mountain creature before I asked, "is he coming for us?"
"It seems so. Yes, he definitely is." At 5 feet away, the goat looked at us through creepy eyes, horns directed at us. I clapped my hands and he jumped back. We both made noise and he started walking away. He stalked us for a while, but eventually lost interest.
This next section will make us sound like rookies, but everyone has to have those days. We plotted our route up the snowfield to the NE Ridge of Black Peak. Being that the description mentioned the snow not exceeding 30 degrees and the temps being 80 or so, we left axes behind. Conditions for kicking steps were perfect and super bomber so we climbed upward. Well, the snow went way beyond 30 degrees and was interrupted by cliff bands. We booted to the top of the snowfield avoiding glide cracks, stopping directly below Black. To keep from falling down, we walked across the top of the moat. At one point we climbed down into the moat, decided that wasn't a great idea and then scurried back out to the snowfield. Well, this was awkward. We both donned spike like rocks, more for mental assurance than actual function, and traversed along the moat once more until the snowpack turned the corner and ramped up even more steeply.
We both had screaming barfies at different times and Allie was the first one to decide this steep snow business wasn't ideal. She stemmed from the snowpack, across the moat to the rock wall. It was chossy and I envisioned a slip up there would result in a fall onto this steep snowfield, resulting in catastrophe. I stuck to the snow until the booting got less bomber and resigned to also stemming onto the rock. Once in the moat (twice in one day!) I decided the best route for me would be stemming between the rock and snow walls of the moat, climbing around the choss-pile that Allie was navigating. Turns out the rock in the moat was crumbling as well, and as pieces fell from under my left boot, I'd move it up to the next loosely piled stack. It was amusing, and I was greatly relieved to join Allie on a nice solid piece of rock. From there, it was back into the moat (really, again?) and up once more to the top of the saddle. Finally, we were on our route.
The route was pretty straight forward. You stay on the ridge, or as close to the ridge as possible. Any straying too far to either side results in a dead end. We roped up and simulclimbed the entire ridge. There were times when pieces teetered on precarious edges, and brick sized rocks fell creating an echo off the valley walls.
The rock improved as the climb went on, but the occasional thought of falling due to rock failure did creep in to my mind once or twice. On the last 40 or so feet, Allie climbed up and around the dark side of the ridge. I got a weird feeling and tucked myself away in an alcove. I could hear the sound of rock shifting on rock up above and looked around. One piece had been placed right in front of me. I didn't remove it. If Allie were to scream, I'd move towards the opposite side of the ridge rapidly. Could that piece hold? To be safe I even considered that I would have thrust myself over the edge, allowing the ridge to catch us. "ROCK!" Allie knocked one free but I was protected in my spot.
Apparently, that was the only time Allie felt uneasy. Being that Allie was climbing on a fresh pile of unconsolidated rock, it was obvious that not many people went over to that area. After this we scrambled to the summit, chilled for a bit and then started making our way down the South Route. It's one gully followed by another, which was stopped early by snow. We glissaded and made our way back to the trailhead via our approach.
Car to car: 11-12 hours.
Weather: Beautiful PNW summer weather.
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