Past Featured Trip Reports

Redwic and I wanted to climb Baker via the Easton Glacier. Prior to June we assembled a team of 8 climbers, all experienced and very strong. Unfortunately, a long period of bad weather in early June derailed our plans completely. We lost all of our team members. It was nearly impossible to find other glacier climbers who could be available on such short-notice. If the storm ever broke, we might only have one day to work with, rather than the standard two day ascent. Could we travel the 16 miles and climb 7500 feet in a single day? Were we up to the challenge?

Frank, Mike and I attempted to do this route as a two day trip in 2003 but 500 miles of driving, a late start and 9000 vertical feet of climbing proved to be too much for the three of us. Even though we had perfect weather and snow conditions, the trip was a non-stop 3 day grind and frankly, not much fun.

We came back in 2004 with a new plan where we would stay one night at the scree camp (9000') below the Turtle snow field and the next night below Camp Hazard (11,300') giving us a rest day before we went for the summit. We also had the time to find the slot and the short rappel into the gully that leads to the ice cliff and onto the Kautz. We took off from our camp at 12:30 AM and climbed solo by headlamp until daybreak came as we were just below the crest. At 6:45 AM we were on the summit. We hung around for at least an hour as the sun warmed things up and then down climbed the route. We spent one more night below Camp Hazard and descended in the early morning when things were relatively quiet.

The north side of Shasta is an odd bird. I’ve only been up that way a couple/three times, but I gather that it gets MUCH less traffic and attention than the south side. The guides and rangers are great – willing to give current conditions or advice, but I think most of their efforts are spent on making money or rescuing idiots on the south side so that NS info is often a little stale. That being said, we gambled on snowshoes and won – the snowpack was excellent for booting. We went against all official advice to use the Northgate TH instead of trying from the Coquette Falls TH. It worked out beautifully. The route in from CF TH was very direct, where the Northgate requires wandering and a big traverse to the base of the Whitney Glacier.

About two months had elapsed since I paused my vagabond ways to resume a normal working life, but it had been more than twice as long since my last proper outdoors excursion. And so, with a single weekend available to me, I set off north for a brief stop in the Great Lakes on a roundabout path to Pennsylvania's Laurel Highlands. When I awakened at an Ohio interstate rest area very early Saturday, I was doing so in a rental car, as my usual companion was stubbornly giving me a host of electrical troubles at the time. This trip was actually in doubt for me, but eventually a local rental agency made the mistake of offering me unlimited miles. So now I drove this rental a short distance ahead to a gateway of the Erie Islands at the end of Marblehead Peninsula.

We left Silverton one sunny morning and quickly learned that getting to Beartown was not going to be simple. First of all, there are 2 highway 110’s at the east end of town. The wrong one heads north. The correct one, also known as County Road 2 or Blair St or Animas Forks Road, requires a right turn off the main drag (Greene St.) and heads ENE. About 5 miles out of town we turned right on to CO 4 as directed. After about half a mile the road splits. It turned out it didn’t matter which way we went, as the roads merged back together again about 1.1 miles after the split. The upper road passes the Old Hundred Gold Mine which offers tours. Soon after the roads converge, there is another split where you must go left and start the uphill climb to Stony Pass. At the time we were there, the road to Stony Pass (County Road 3) was not labeled at all. We found our way up over the pass and down the other side to FS 506. FS 506 starts with a ford of the Rio Grande River, and the road immediately becomes much more rutted than the Stony Pass road. On FS 506 it is 6 miles to the Beartown Trailhead. We had a high clearance vehicle with a long wheelbase and bottomed out only once in the last half mile. At this point we saw several 4WDs parked alongside the road, which would add another half mile and a little elevation gain to the hike. There is room for about 2 vehicles at the trailhead and we got one of them. We divvied up the gear and hoisted the packs.

In March of 2012, Luke and Abe (whom I met via 14ers.com) and myself ventured into the lesser traveled area of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Equally sharing a passion for winter, we thought about a trip that involved some peaks located in the Northern Culebra Range. The goal was to hike to De Anza Peak and call it good. We knew Culebra Peak was on private property of course, but what we didn’t know is where that property ended. NONE of the maps we poured over detailed where private property started nor ended.

We've since come to learn, pretty much EVERYTHING in the Culebra Range is private going back to the days of lore. The Culebra sub-range of the Sangre de Cristo’s is astoundingly beautiful. The terrain is untrammeled, unmarked and virgin thanks to the land owners in the area (a bittersweet facet). Even property fences and signage as we found out doesn't exist. Unfortunately, as we trekked southwards along the roof of the range that afternoon, a strong and potent blizzard blew in from the south unpredicted. Friends of mine who were on San Luis Peak the same afternoon, later reported the same conditions. The storm took them by surprise as well.

As the three of us scrambled up the first destination, Maxwell Peak (13,335ft), Luke wasn’t feeling well. He had been sick the previous couple days with what he believed was flu. This is where Luke wisely decided to bow out. We brought a small bivy tent and light sleeping bags ‘just in case’ things went to hell. Luke and I decided to swap sleeping bags on the leeward side of an elevated ‘broken sidewalk of granite’ since he was descending. He had a warmer Western Mountaineering 20° bag and I had a Mountain Hardwear Phantom 32°. Abe and I bid adieu to Luke, watched him descend for a few minutes, then we started to traverse under Maxwell Peak’s summit on its’ southeastern flanks. Before we separated, we had a loose understanding with Luke that Abe and I might bivy for the night and continue further south in the morning along the ridge or weather pending, return later that day. A month prior on a different trip with intentions of summiting Cuatro and Trinchera Peaks to the north, Abe, Matt and I, not really planning on it but impromptu, set up a bivy at treeline on Maxwell just past midnight; Abe and Matt slept in bivy sacks on the leeward side of some scrub evergreen and I dug out a snow drift, partially sealing it for shelter.

Ever since our last attempt which ended up as the foolhardy reputation-destroying disaster, Josh and I knew we had messed up on a good deal. A lot of things weren't right that day (probably mentally as well). But the route felt right. It's rare for a person to find a completely new route these days in the Washington Cascades. Not that nobody has ever been there but that nobody has found it worth mentioning. And with the young exuberance that instills romantic notions we were sure we found one on Mt. Stickney. Josh even came up with a cool name for it: Sky Rocket Coulior! Mt. Stickney already has a standard route up Olney Creek road but with budget cuts on the large, the approach is reprehensible to any thrifty up and coming peak-bagger. Our new route is shorter, direct and more alpine. A lot of things about it still seem good; just requiring the right conditions.

With the last misadventure in mind, first thing was first: inventory. No more mind-blowing catastrophes! We were going to have everything we needed attached to our packs way ahead of time. Ice tools, ice axes, crampons, water, clothes, food -- all scrutiny was applied as soon as we saw a good window for weather. Then some adjustments were made and we were left with the tantalizing realization that we were about to forge a new route up a prominent westward facing mountain. I couldn't tell what I thought was cooler; that it was a first ascent for the route (documented), that the gully resembles a coulior snow climb of a constant slope that rockets 3,000' from the valley below, that it was in a perfect proximity to Index, Baring, Monte Cristo peaks, and most of the western cascades, or the fact that it starts from my very first hiking experience in memory by beginning from Wallace Falls State Park!

We got up shortly after 6, right on cue for a glorious view to the mountains on the other side of the Llanganuco valley. By half past seven we were moving. We soon spotted a couple of climbers on the slope leading up to the crest of the NW ridge, the steepest bit of the route,, not far from the summit. They must have started early. To get to the edge of the glacier, we had to go over a small ridge with some very big boulders tossed around haphazardly. There were cairns marking the route, but with an alpine start it would still have been tricky to find the right way. In daylight it was easy and soon we got to the edge of the glacier.

We took our time getting geared up, but after that we made good progress. It wasn't steep, and we had a wide trail to follow. Route finding wouldn't be any problem today. Occasionally we saw a crevasse. Mostly they were babies, there were only a few bigger ones. The snow bridges looked very solid though and while we crossed them one at a time, we didn't set up a belay.

Lying amongst the superb Himalayan peaks of the secluded Indian state of Sikkim, the Goecha Là trail allows to get the Goecha Là - a col 4940 meters high (some sources quote it at 5002 m.) - taking an outstanding view over the mysterious South-East face of Kangchenjunga m. 8585, the third highest peak on earth and the less climbed amongst all the 8000s, situated on the boundary ridge between Sikkim and Nepal.

Kangchenjunga, which name means “Five Treasures of Snow” and also “The Dwelling of the Five Treasures”, in reason of its five summits, was first climbed in 1955 by Joe Brown and George Band, members of a British expedition; since the first ascent, the mountaineers use to stop the climb a few meters below the summit, following the tradition of the first summiters, as Kangchenjunga is considered to be holy. It has been my third himalayan trail, after Baltoro-Concordia-K2 Base Camp in Karakoram and Markha Valley Trek in Ladakh.

They say, the kept promise is good promise. I think it is true as well when we make promise ourselves. After my very first ski-tour from one year ago padding in pleasing and sweet memories, very easy came the decision that I would like this next year again! Than slowly elapsed the winter of 2012, there was plenty of skiing, but with all of that something was missing…Of course, the ski-touring! This time everything was more easier than one year ago, after a few calls and emails I succeeded to find and book a similar trip. This year the winter does hold out, the snow remained until April here in Hungary, so in a very early morning we departed to South-Tirol, in Ortles, to conquer the summit called Cevedale.

We knew it, and as we were approaching the location, we could even see that at higher altitude there was lot of snow, but even so, when we were meandering among budding apple orchards in the Martello valley, we started to worry about that at the terminal, in the parking place could we stand on skis or we would have to walk a lot with skis on our shoulders until we found enough snow to enclose. Fortunately, from 1.500-1.600 m-s altitude, beside the road the snowfields conquered the bare ground, so at 2.000 m, in the parking place in the reddish light of the setting sun we could feel reassured there was much more snow then we expected, so we hadn’t to pad the road at all.