Mountaineering in WA: Boston Basin

  The day began early on July 14th, by 6:45 Kel was out front and ready to roll.  We headed to the trail head, packed up gear and started our trek to low camp.

Kel and Chris preparing packs for the week

Chris = Stoked to arrive at low camp

  We arrived by 4:00 pm and set up what would be our home base for the next five days.  After some instruction and dinner we fell asleep as the sun dropped over the jagged peaks to the west.

Sahale

 We awoke late the next morning - 7:30am - and discussed our plans for the day over a bowl of oatmeal.  We decided on a mellow objective and spent most of the day getting acquainted with the basics of alpine climbing and glacial travel - at least enough to keep us alive over the next few days anyways.  After we felt reasonably comfortable working as a rope team, armed with ice axes and crampons, we began our ascent of Sahale Peak.  The climbing turned out to be relatively easy with our new knowledge and we navigated the field of crevasses' easily - not to mention Kel was leading...    

Coming up the final pitch of Sahale with Boston peak in the background
photo: Kel Rossiter

On the Summit of Sahale
Left to Right: Chris, Kel, Alex

 The last section was on rock, so we ditched our crampons and continued on short roped together so that we could support each other if any one of us slipped.  The last bit we pitched out as we got into some low 5th class climbing.  We reached the top and and took in our surroundings as we shared the summit with a solo hiker.

  The descent went a lot quicker, since we essentially just followed our foot steps back the same way around the crevasses.  We plunge stepped down the upper snowfields and as we got lower, sat down and glissaded the rest of the way. Which is essentially sliding on your butt with your ice axe as a brake.  Sure goes a lot faster, but man I could have used some leather on the bottom of my pants!

Alex and Chris on the descent from Sahale
photo: Kel Rossiter

  Once we reached camp, we ate dinner, reapplied sun screen and settled in for the night.  As I lay down I realized how at peace I feel with how simple life just got.  Climb, eat, sleep, repeat.


Sharkfin Tower

  We awoke the next morning with our sights set higher; towards Sharkfin tower.  Feeling confident from the easy summit the day before and our newly acquired skills, we set out with enthusiasm a little after 8 am.  Sharkfin rises out of the ridge to the west of Sahale and is a much more technical climb. Approaching up a couloir on the left, you must then traverse a 45 degree slope to the col on the east side of the tower and from here its about five pitches of really solid rock to the summit.

Chris and Alex practicing self arrests with Sharkfin tower and the upper snowfield
 in the background.  The start of the couloir can be seen on the left hand side.
Sharkfin is the tallest peak.
photo: Kel Rossiter

  We took the same approach as the day before, and made it to the entrance of the couloir to the upper snowfield in one and half hours.  From here we roped up and ascended the couloir, out onto the upper snowfield.  The traverse itself was not all that difficult, however, about 50 feet to our right their was a 200 foot cliff down to the glacier below.  This is when things got real, real fast.  Flow state. Every step became a very conscience decision and a calm adrenaline rushed over my body where there was no room to think of anything else. Don't fall.

 We pitched out the last section of the upper snowfield ( seen below) as it only got steeper as we went along.

Chris and Alex coming across the upper snowfield with two pickets for protection
Photo: Kel Rossiter 

  After 30 minutes of traversing we reached the col, stopped for a quick snack, applied more sunscreen, stowed crampons and ice axes, and roped up for pitched climbing.  Kel took the lead up the ridge, climbing gracefully in hard soled mountaineering boots and placing minimal protection.

Kel on lead, Chris Belaying

 We got a yell shortly after "OFF BELAY", followed by "BELAY ON" to tell us he is off and that we are now on and ready to climb.  We were roped ten feet apart and were climbing simultaneously for efficiency sake.  Climbing in this manor is definitely faster, however it also makes you much more reliant on your partners climbing ability, for if either of you fall it will pull the other off. Don't fall.

  I started up confidently following the rope through straightforward, easy moves.  I went right, around a big block, and froze.  Looking down around the block I realized that there was only air between me and the glacier hundreds of feet below me!  My heart skipped a beat and my mind started running. I tell Chris to hold on as I collected myself.  All I could think about is how worn out my harness was and whether or not this 9.2 mm rope could really hold me and on top of that what the hell I'm doing climbing rock in these giant clown shoes called mountaineering boots!

  I pushed these thoughts away, concentrated on my breathing and turned my gaze upwards to where my next footholds were.  One step after another I slowly made my way up to where Kel had set an anchor and I felt myself briefly relax as I clipped into the anchor.  The climbing became more technical on the next pitch and in concentrating on my next moves, the fact that I am so high off the ground slowly faded from my mind.  My fear became replaced with excitement and wonder as we continued up, and upon reaching the summit I felt on top of the world!  We were on a true summit as they say, meaning it has one rock on top and it drops off on all sides.  We sat for a while eating lunch and taking in the view with only the sun to watch us..

THE SUN.  Wow, I was so focused on climbing I had almost forgotten to put on more sunscreen,  I felt my nose and realized how much it hurt. My lips!
They are cracked, sun baked and on their way towards blistering!  I lathered on the chapstick and turned away from the sun, hoping that it wouldn't get worse.

Kel on the summit of Sharkfin tower with
Boston peak in the background

Sitting on top was incredible.  We could see over the backside, down towards truly wild terrain that few have probably ever traveled.  Looking around now I realized just how high we were!  Sahale looked like a walk in the park to the west and we were level with Boston Peak right in front of that.  We were either higher or level with all the surrounding peaks!...and then I turned around.

Chris and Alex on the summit
Photo: Kel Rossiter

Forbidden Peak towered above us to the west, in a perfect pyramid with 3 knife ridges running off the ominous summit...east, west and north.  I could see why the peak was called "forbidden".  With not a cloud in the sky, it looked darker and more foreboding than any other peak around it.  A shudder ran through me and I turned back around.  We were on this summit, there was no need to look elsewhere.

After about fifteen minutes of relaxing and relishing on our first big summit, it was now time to descend.  I took the lead on the descent and with Chris tied in about ten feet behind me, we slowly executed the same moves on the way up, except now backwards, going down.  The climbing was easy, but mentally challenging and I am glad to make it down with no slips.  We rappelled past the crux and made our way slowly, but surely, back to the col.  I felt my self relax a bit as we stepped onto dirt, strapped crampons back on and grabbed our ice axes.  We roped up, in short intervals, and plunge stepped straight down towards the cliff that we had traversed above earlier in the day.  After rappelling this cliff we were now back on the glacier.  From here I glissaded back to camp, hungry and happy from my first big alpine climb.





Chris on rappel (Left)






Looking down on Kel and Chris from the last rappel to the col (below)

Alex on the descent of Sharkfin
Photo: Kel Rossiter

West Ridge of Forbidden

  Alpine climbing is all about thinking one step ahead and preparing for what is to come.  There was no exception here and before we had even arrived back at camp from Sharkfin we were talking of what the next day held.  After a short discussion our gaze came to rest on the one peak that rose above all the others; Forbidden.

I felt a pang of apprehension as I nodded and agreed on our objective. My feelings of relaxation and accomplishment melted away as nervousness and doubt invaded my mind.

We ate dinner, still unable to escape that ever shining sun, climbed into our bags and set our alarms for 2 am.

Lying in my tent that night, my mind kept drifting to the next day.
This was to be the biggest climb I had ever done
my heart started beating faster
"Will tomorrow go smoothly?"
"Will we all make it out alright?"
My heart felt like it was going to come out of my chest
"Why am I here?"

"What am I after?"  

thoughts bombarded me, fears and doubts, unanswerable questions

AHHHH!!

I am here.  Now.  This is what I came here for.  Doubting myself will not help.  I am climbing tomorrow and whatever happens, happens.

and with that a level of acceptance washed over me.

...my heart began to slow and I fell into a restless, dream-filled sleep.

beep beep beep beep beep


2 am

Wide awake and with a buzz of energy in the air I jumped off the ground and slid into my mountaineering boots.  My feet were sore with blisters developing on the heels, but this was no time to think about discomforts.
I stepping into the cool night air and ate my bland oatmeal in silence as I mentally prepared for what the day held.

3:05 am

We hefted packs and off we went, into the darkness towards a peak that I knew was towering above, waiting for us.

After an hour of walking on rocks, we hit the glacier.
Here we rope up, pull helmets on, strap on crampons and continue on our way.  Traveling in silence, the going is methodical and steady.

step, step, breathe.
step, step, breathe.
over and over, up and up.

5:10 am

We hit the rock island and our side stepping turns to front pointing as the slope gets steeper.  We work our way around the island and reach the bottom of the couloir.
here we shorten up the intervals and start climbing.

Sunrise looking to the south-east from the top of the couloir

By now the sun is starting to rise over the peaks behind us and we no longer need the help of our headlamps to see.
We continue up until the bergschrund in the middle of the couloir.  The snow is slowly pulling away from the rocks and down the mountain creating a giant gap in the snow.  We go one at a time, stepping almost three feet up and over the giant gash and with the help of many one legged squats, stand up.

Up and up we continue on.  Every few steps my heart skipping a beat as my foot would almost slip out or sink in.  Rock is one thing, but snow...snow is so much more...unpredictable..

We reach the top where the snow fades into rock and we continue up.

Resting as Kel leads the next pitch, I feel panic bubbling up as I look down what we just climbed and up at where we need to go.

"Holy smokes!"

Starting to feel sick, I breathe and ground myself.  Chris sits next to me serenely looking out at the sun slowly rising.  His calm confidence brings me back to the moment.

Panicking here is useless, there is no point.

I push my fears away and turn to continue climbing.

Chris in the couloir

Alex and Chris in the  couloir
Photo: Kel Rossiter

6:30 am

We reach the col and take a rest as we prepare for the next ten pitches of rock along the ridge to the summit.

7:00 am

It's cold.  The sun still hasn't hit us, and won't until we reach the summit....We start climbing.

The pictures tell the rest...

Alex and Chris on the ascent
Photo: Kel Rossiter

Chris coming around the corner

Alex and Chris in the shadow of forbidden

9:30 am

We summit around 9:30.  Its windy, but finally we get some warmth from the sun!
It was very humbling to stand on top of this giant pile of rocks in this wild land.  The message couldn't be more clear; mountains are huge, and we are so fragile.

We have reached our objective and it feels so good to be on top!  However, were are only half way done with our climb and now must get down.

Steeling myself against my fears I turn and prepare to down climb.  I'm not very good at down climbing, but we manage to make it back to the col in three hours.

Chris "saddling the horse"

Alex on rappel
Photo: Kel Rossiter

Alex and Chris about to rappel
Photo: Kel Rossiter

Climbing down from the col, we make the decision that the couloir will be too dangerous to descend, and therefore choose the alternate route; a 500 foot rock gully to the climbers left.

2:00 pm

We reach the top of the rock gully and begin making our way to the first rappel station.  Halfway to this thin cord we freeze.  About 150 feet below us we see Geoff and Bronson, another climbing party, below us on a lower rappel station.

We are in a precarious position.
All around us there is loose rock just waiting to fall down on their heads, a misstep could spell disaster here.  In fact someone died in this exact spot two years ago from rock fall...
Just as we are taking in the severity of the situation, Chris lifts up his foot and the rock he had been standing on dislodges itself.

Time slows down as this watermelon sized rock slowly picks up inertia and speed in the narrow gully

"Rock!  Rock!"

They don't move

"Why can't they hear us!"

The rock is headed straight for them!

We yell louder

"ROCK!! ROCK! SHIT! FUCK! ROOOOCK!!!"

Finally with the rock only about 40 feet above them they look up and dive to the side.

We hold our breath

The rock bounces right in front of their feet, launches above their head and explodes on the rock next to them!

I take a breathe, but still can't move.  Things just got very real, we almost just killed two other people!

We sit down where we are and don't move a muscle for 45 minutes until we see them on the glacier below.

We rope up and ever so carefully rappel the same route, making sure not to knock any other rocks free.

3:30 pm

Making it back onto the glacier I feel myself relax.  I notice how much my feet hurt and how hungry I am!
 We turn and glissade down the rest of the glacier, eager to return to camp.

4:45 pm

14 hours later, we are tired but triumphant!  We made it!  No injuries to anyone and success all around!
I don't think I have ever enjoyed dinner as much as I did that night or been more at peace with things.

The next day we awoke, spent the day going over some belay techniques, and rope coiling and then pack up and head out.  Time to return home.

For all the generosity and open arms we received along the way, I am so grateful!  Friends, family and strangers alike, you made this adventure possible!

Sharkfin and Forbidden rising in the background as we make our way to Sahale

Rescuing Chris from the crevasse he decided to jump into...

Emerging from the earth!  Thank you Chris:)

A look at our humble camp in the rocks of low camp

 There were very curious marmots

Alex coming across

                                                Hanging out on the West Ridge

The Crew

Making our way down the West Ridge, slowly but surely

Yep, that pretty much sums it up.

This trip was truly a turning point in Chris's decision to pursue a career as a mountain guide.  To help him make that first step check out his crowd funding site here.  Thanks!

Pre - Mountaineering WA Adventures

   It all started in the dead of winter when John Abbott, director of UVM outdoor programs, mentioned a mountaineering trip out to WA state.  Seven months later my friend and climbing partner, Chris Cullaz and I, Alex Gemme, found ourselves on an early Thursday morning flight out to Seattle, WA.  With constantly changing plans over the last few months, changing dates, people dropping and job interference, we still couldn't believe the trip was actually happening.

Mt.Rainier from the sky

   Loaded down with 60 pound packs, we landed in Seattle that afternoon.  Thanks to a last minute call the night before we had a couch to crash on at our friend Niall Motson's house.  After navigating the public transit, we were warmly welcomed by New Englanders, finding a little piece of the east coast right there in Seattle.  The first housemate we met was Bronson Shonk, a fellow UVM alum and aspiring climber.  Super excited to find another climber, we made plans to explore the local crags over the next few days.

   Before we headed out to Exit 38 for some sport climbing, we were given the opportunity to try floating in a sensory deprivation tank, thanks to Niall's housemate Aaron Harris who works for Float Seattle.  Floating isn't very popular on the east coast, but is steadily growing in the west and was the reason Aaron moved to Seattle.  Floating is exactly as it sounds, you lie in a tank of water filled with 1,000 pounds of Epsom salt so that your face is just above the surface, put in ear plugs and close the door, therefore taking away your sense of sight, sound and space.  A very interesting experience indeed and the only way I can describe it is go try it yourself.

   After a day of floating and sport climbing we headed to Goldbar for some bouldering.  The hike into the forest was longer than expected, but the payoff was well worth it.  Having never been in a forest in the North West I was blown away!  Moss was everywhere, the forest floor was soft and moist and the understory was pretty much nonexistent.  This made for perfect shade, a light breeze and not a mosquito to speak of!  Taking advantage of the ideal bouldering weather, we spent just under eight hours climbing problem after problem.  Tired and sore and with the sun beginning to set we head back down the mountain for some cold beer and good food.

Hiking into Goldbar

Alex coming across a log in Goldbar

Viani and Chris in Goldbar forests

    By now we could not believe how things had just been working out and falling into place for us.  Having arrived with no plans, we also had no expectations and often found ourselves laughing and smiling at the good fortune that continued to come our way.

Chris on a difficult traverse with trees for spotters

   As we settled in for the night we began thinking ahead to the next day.  Our time in Seattle was dwindling and the next day we were heading north to Bellingham and then into the mountains.  Falling asleep I reflected on the last few days and couldn't help feeling an overwhelming surge of gratitude for all the amazing people that we had met so far and the opportunities they had provided for us.

    We just catch the bus the next morning and arrive outside Bellingham a day before our scheduled meet up with our guide Kel Rossiter from Adventure Spirit Guides.  We find ourselves walking down the road towards Bellingham center, with heavy packs, the sun beating down and dreams of swiming floating across our minds.  We don't know where we are headed, but we do know the less we walk on the road the better.  Its hot and my feet were hurting in the heavy soled mountaineering boots.  We stuck out our thumbs and by good karma or magic, our luck continues and a car with Colorado plates pulled over!  A beautiful girl named Alexandra jumped out and immediately started moving things around in her car so she can fit our packs.  We hop in and continued on our way.  After a few minutes of getting to know each other, she asks if we want to head over to the ocean to meet up with her friend and go swimming!  She read our mind!  "Hell yes!" we reply and off we headed on a new adventure.

  We arrived in the boat yard where her friend River is living on and repairing a 1964 wooden sail boat.  He had spent the last four years hitch hiking around the country and somehow ended up getting his sailboat for free.  We spent the day with our new found friends swimming, boating, exploring Bellingham and listening to music - they turned out to be incredible musicians!  By the end of the night we even scored a couch to sleep on at Alexandra's house. As we were are on our way to her house, Chris and I looked at each other and laughed; laughed for the randomness of life, the spontaneity of carelessness that traveling brings about and for all the incredible people with open hearts, open minds, and open arms.


   As I drifted off to sleep that night my mind was going in so many directions.  I thought about how we had had one of the most incredible and spontaneous days, how we had ended up where we were, and wondering what the next week in the mountains would bring, our true purpose for our journey west.