Mt. Stuart - North Ridge

It's a weird feeling.  Kindof like the day after your wedding day.  You've been looking with anticipation to something for so long.  And it's amazing.  But once it's over, you feel a sort of void.  I need a new tick list.  This has been a rad summer.  But I have now completed both of the routes I've been pining over for as long as I can remember. 

I've dreamed of climbing Stuart for the past 5 years, ever since I got interested in alpine climbing.  For a while, I waited for the right weekend and partners to do the West Ridge, the 5.4 route.  But it is known to be quite the route-finding challenge.  So I waited to do it with somebody who'd been there before.  It didn't happen.  Then I started to think that at some point the North Ridge might be doable instead.  I waited, trained, climbed other stuff, and waited some more.  I'm glad I did.  This was my fourth of the 50 Classic Climbs list, and the best so far.

Matt P. had to bail because of his shoulder issue, so the crew came together: me, Jillson, Steve Machuga, and his French friend Seby Alary.  Matt and I would climb together.  I was stoked.  Steve had done the Upper North Ridge before with Ken Hahn, but due to time issues on the route they bypassed the Great Gendarme.  Hence Steve's reason for coming back.  We were psyched, because he knew they way when it came to the upper ridge and the approach.

We met up at 5am in Lynnwood and were at the Ingalls Creek TH and hiking by 8am.  I was a little concerned about all the ground we'd have to cover with that late of a start and a slight chance of thunderstorms that afternoon, but oh well.  We made pretty good time up to Ingalls Lake and took a break to pump a little water.

Steve Machuga, Matt Jillson, and Seby Alary at Ingalls Pass

Ingalls Lake

From there, we headed to Stuart Pass and Goat Pass. It looked like we'd be able to skirt the lower edge of the Stuart Glacier. We felt good about our decision not to carry crampons and axes, but I grabbed a stick nonetheless to help in case I slipped. It turns out it would have been possible to avoid the snow altogether if desired, barely adding any distance.  Crossing the snow wasn't too bad, however.  We stopped one more time to fill our water bladders in some runoff from the glacier before scrambling up to the toe of the North Ridge.

Descending the Stuart Glacier from Goat Pass

Steve and Seby on the lower toe of the Stuart Glacier

The lower North Ridge includes about 10 pitches of rock climbing, 5 of which are mid-5th class or higher.  The highlights of the lower North Ridge are the 5.8 squeeze chimney, and a long 5.9 hand crack.  The rest can be simul-climbed, and that was our plan.  Matt and I racked up and were ready to start climbing around 2:30pm.  One of the tactics we used on this climb was to take only a 7.7mm 60m rope, and double it over to be used as a twin rope on the technical pitches.  We knew the crux pitches were relatively short.  This decision caused us to have to break up a few of the lower pitches, adding a bit of time.  The lower section is normally done in 3 pitches, and we had to split it into 4.  Matt took the first one - a nice 5.7 hand crack.


Matt leads the first 5.7 pitch on the lower North Ridge

 I got the next one: the 5.8+ squeeze chimney.  This is a really short, but awkward section in a right-trending crack/corner/chimney.  The only thing that makes it hard is that there are no feet.  I hemmed and hawed a bit, but ultimately sent it without a problem.  Following that there is a short 5.6-5.7 face climbing section, leading to the 5.9 dihedral.  Beckey's description is that of a "crack whose upper part looks like a white streak".  I'd say that it does sortof, but better to just look for a long dihedral.  The crack is bomber fingers, but the walls of the dihedral are really smooth and the footwork is tough and tiring.  This was Jillson's lead.  He started off looking really strong, but after placing 2 or three pieces of gear, he suddenly pinged off and took about a 15-20 foot whipper!  He wasn't expecting it, and nor was I.  I caught him fine.  He recuperated for a minute.  I offered to take the lead, but he wanted to finish the pitch and wasn't too spooked.  He did it like a champ!  To his credit, I also took a fall while cleaning the pitch!  That thing was hard. 


Steve styles the 5.9 dihedral on pitch 3

 Following the dihedral, there is one more 5.7 pitch, which I led.  From there, we simul-climbed for two blocks.  At this point we had arrived at some sandy 2nd to 3rd-class ledges and spotted two solid bivy sites.  We were at 7,600 ft., and we knew the notch was at 8,200 ft.  It was 6:30pm, and the weather was still good.  Unfortunately, Matt and I knew that at this point Steve and Seby were far behind.  We decided to wait for them at this spot instead of pushing on to the notch.  I also had heard voices on the lower North Ridge earlier in the afternoon but had never spotted anyone, so I knew that we'd have company at the notch and didn't know how many sites there were.  Waiting proved to be the right choice.  At 8:30pm with darkness rapidly falling, Steve and Seby, stressed and grumpy, arrived at the bivy sites.  By this point we had scouted out and created enough space for all 4 of us to sleep for the night.  We made dinner, chilled out a bit, and hit the hay.  Matt and I had chosen to forego sleeping bags in the interest of pack weight.  In my case, I only own one sleeping bag, unfortunately, my 0-degree down.  Steve and Seby brought lightweight bags in addition to bivy sacks.  For me, I made the wrong choice.  It only got down to the high 40's, but I shivered all night long and didn't sleep much.  It didn't help that the whole night through the Ice Cliff was calving off and thundering down the couloir next to us!

We didn't know how long it would take us to hit the notch, but we wanted to give ourselves a shot to hit the Great Gendarme first, so we agreed to get moving at first light.  We set the alarms for 4:30 so that we could be moving by 5am.  Matt and I cruised, simul-climbing in two more blocks, reaching the notch at 8,200 ft. at 6am while the sun was rising.

Sunrise at the notch

The two other guys were just getting up.  They were super nice, and pointed out a snow patch down a gully toward the Ice Cliff Glacier where they'd gotten water.  Since we knew we'd have to wait for Steve and Seby, I set up a hand line and headed down the gully to brew up.  By the time they arrived, we were full up and ready to rock.

The Upper North Ridge is cruiser.  Except for the Great Gendarme, one short 5.7 slab, and one short 5.8 hand crack.  Otherwise, it is 1,200 ft. of pristine granite following the true ridge as it sweeps toward the summit.  The views are amazing.  The climbing is moderate, airy, fun.  We simul-climbed from the notch to the gendarme in approach shoes.

Matt doing some fun moderate ridge-running

More killer clean granite ridgelines

Yours truly on the moderate slab below the Great Gendarme

Heading toward the gendarme

Cool rock prow

We arrived at the base of the Great Gendarme a little after 10am.  This is what we came for.  Two pitches of super-exposed 5.9 crack climbing in a full-on, no backing out alpine environment.  The only way out is up.  Or, rapping off the side, doing some shitty 4th and low-5th class scrambling to regain the ridge and the route.  I was only going to do that if we had each taken several lead falls, hangdogged, and still couldn't make it up the thing.  Or if the weather got dicey.  Luckily for us, the weather obliged, and we smashed that thing!

Getting stoked!  I own this thing.

 I took the first pitch, the 5.9 finger crack lieback to the top of the pillar.  That was by far the funnest pitch of alpine rock I've ever climbed.  And it went totally fine.  There are short 15-20 foot sections of steep to overhanging rock separated by awesome rests where you can go hands-free and plug in gear.  We did decide to drop packs for the gendarme and haul them, which made us feel even lighter compared to the rest of the route.  That was a new experience and took a bit of thrashing to get the ropes right, but overall I think it was the right choice.

Dominating the 5.9 lieback fingercrack

Stoked!

Pack-hauling

Steve and Seby nearing the Gendarme

Matt embraces the offwidth

Top of the Great Gendarme!

From the top of the Great Gendarme you are almost done with the difficult climbing.  There is a short 5.5 traverse that I led.  This is followed by a 15-foot 5.8 finger crack that is really quite easy.  We almost didn't stop to belay it at all.

Final technical pitch, short 5.8 crack

After that it's all 4th class and low 5th to the top!  We took the path of least resistance, which did require a few 5.6ish moves, but was pretty cruiser.  Just as we finished up the 5.8 sequence, we felt a few rain drops.  This went on for a few minutes and although we were done with the hard climbing, the heart got to beating a little faster.  Luckily this passed quickly.  But I couldn't help thinking of our friends below, still tackling the Great Gendarme.  A little after noon we hit the summit and celebrated!

Summit!  That should be "IV", for 4th 50 Classic ticked.

Jillson is pumped

And then we waited.  And waited.  Jillson took a long nap.  I poked around the summit, tried to nap, explored some more, took a dump, had a smoke, found a snowpatch and collected runoff for water, signed the summit register, waited some more, and finally, after more waiting, Steve and Seby arrived!

Jillson takes a power nap on the summit

Fortunately by this point the weather was bomber.  After the briefest of sprinklings, any threat of weather passed through and around us and we were left with perfect clear skies.  All told we waited on the true summit for 4 hours.  Definitely the longest I've spent on any summit.  But Steve and Seby eventually arrived safely, having taken their time pitching out all the terrain from the gendarme on up.

Seby and Steve hit the summit ridge

After a brief summit rest, we repacked and started our descent.  The Chosscadian Couloir lived up to its reputation.  Three hours of descending loose sand, sand on slabs, kitty-litter on slabs, and loose rubble was our reward for a climb well-earned.  The climb back to Longs Pass was heartbreaking as expected.  By the time we finally rolled into Cle Elum it was past 10pm, and we didn't even stop for fast food.  I, however, did hit the Jack in the Box in Mill Creek to fuel up for my additional new drive up to the Skagit Valley on my own.  Painful.  I crawled into bed exhausted at 2am.  And took care of the kids on my own the entire next day.  But it was worth it.

Full pics here for those interested: https://picasaweb.google.com/106759734752897358987/MtStuartNorthRidge?authkey=Gv1sRgCPvkgYLwgZy3ZA#