After numerous searches for route information online we found little other than the similarly cryptic descriptions found in Becky's guide. Actually, most of the accounts we found were just attempts, resulting in turning around somewhere near or on these mountains.
Gear.
Excited for an adventure, getting off the beaten track and following a line of our own aesthetic, we filled up our small packs full of gear to spend a few nights in the mountains. Climbing gear consisted of one 8mm 60m rope, set of nuts, camelots .4-#2, 8 alpine draws, harness, shoes, and helmet. Not really knowing if we'd be doing some rope-soloing, ridge walking, or class 5 climbing we were prepared for it all.
After waiting for the day to heat up sufficiently we began our ride up to the 8-mile road and Stuart Lake trailhead. Just kidding, but it was hot as we sweated our way up the last dusty 4 miles of dirt road to the TH. That said, we absolutely killed it and reached the parking lot in less time, and with more energy then we could have imagined.
Quick stop by the river.
Yes.
Argonaut on left, Sherpa on right, with Stuart in between the "V".
After leaving the maintained trail we followed a patchwork of climbers paths that lead up to the upper valley portion of the west branch of Mountaineer Creek below Sherpa Peak and the starting point for many climbers of the North Ridge of Stuart. It was here the real adventure began. Leaving the seldom trodden paths of climbers and mountaineers we began to ascend towards the valley between Argonaut and Sherpa. Another mile or two and many mouthfuls of alder later we arrived in the narrow canyon between the two beautiful peaks. A stream for water and a big flat rock welcomed our arrival to an advanced camp.
Forest.
Made it.
With no clear objective we walked around a bit, taking a peek at the east and north sides of Sherpa, trying to decide what to go for the next day. With only a few glimpses on our way up, and a limited view from camp, Argonaut remained a mysteriously large mountain. We decided on the closer Northeast face of Sherpa Peak. It seemed an easier objective with a relatively short approach and moderate climbing, also offering us views of Argonaut for some future ideas.
Sherpa's Northeast Face. Close up on right. Our route followed the prominent ridge sweeping up the right side of the face, across the upper snowfield and onto the upper headwall.
The next day dawned and we made a relaxed start to the approach of the northeast face. About 45 minutes of snow and talus felt more like 2 hours but we quickly made our way to the base of the climb.
Colchuck in the back.
We roped up and simul-soloed for a thousand feet or so, covering the mostly moderate ridge with a few 4th and 5th class moves. The climbing was beautiful transitioning from pink white granite to dark, lichen covered stone and intermixed with some sandy ledges and loose blocks. The adventure was on. About 1/3 of the way up the face we encountered our first sign of a previous party, a weathered and sun bleached two-nut anchor with the date 6/97 inked on the webbing. Some one's rap station? Anchors from a winter ascent? Not knowing is part of the fun.
Making our way up the ridge.
We approached the upper headwall and unroped to scrambled the last bit. An easy ramp offered a pathway to the East ridge, another moderate looking gulley-ridge system lead a more direct line to the summit, and in between lay a 2-300 foot headwall. We agreed on the numerous possibilities that existed on the face and settled on a general area that appeared climbable with some interesting crack and face features. As the pitch got steeper and we reached the base of the headwall, we stopped on a large ledge to rope up and pitch out the 5th class sections that lay ahead. A short boulder move began the climb, followed by 3 pitches of moderate cracks, corners, and face moves ranging from 5.6-5.8. The final pitch led up a challenging lichen-filled hand crack that brought us to the 2nd set of rap anchors coming off the East ridge from the summit.
Approaching the headwall.
Headwall, terrible photo.
First pitch.
Following
Liz starting on the second pitch.
Following.
Starting up the final pitch.
A quick scramble and we reached the standing rock and nearby summit?
Air.
Pretty sure the "standing rock" is just a misplaced sculpture from Easter Island. Think I'll start calling it the old man.
Argonaut's West Ridge and Northwest Face.
A quick trip to the top of the standing rock, complete with the shoulder stand aid move, and we were ready to start going down. Satisfied and stoked.
Down from the standing rock.
With even less info about the descents of either of these mountains, we began to pick our down the East ridge and back to camp. A few rappels and bunch of scrambling brought us to a broad couloir that appeared to lead quickly back to the basin where we were camped. After referencing some of the pictures we took from below, we agreed to give it a try and a-trundlin' we went. The couloir went smoothly with the main hazard being a bunch of loose rock and sand.
Down.
Back at camp we made dinner and poured over the many pictures of Argonaut thinking about possible lines and routes up its North ridge and NW face. Contemplating a summit attempt for the next day, we agreed to enjoy the night and return for Argonaut and this beautiful spot another time.
The return 'shwack was equally as challenging and enjoyable, something about finding your way through the forest and following streams and ridges that makes you never want to leave. After making it back to the trailhead and our stashed bikes it was all downhill from here. We cruised back to Leavenworth and capped off another human powered adventure. An amazing time and great trip in particular to build our skills and practice riding into the mountains to adventure climb, or establish new routes, something we hope to accomplish on longer-distance bike tours in the future.
Cheers!
Why blindly follow when you can blindly lead;
ReplyDeleteawesome! U.K.