Writing this the Monday after the outing, I'm a still somewhat incredulous about the whole thing. Who recommended this? In fairness, it's not in either of Nelson's Selected Climbs books, but people do talk about it a lot, and it does get recommended as a good, moderate climb.

We were going to do Triumph, but as the weekend approached, the weather report deteriorated, until Friday there was a 30% chance of rain for the North Cascades. That, combined with the iffiness of getting a camping pass, seemed to strike Triumph off the list again, and so we decided on the West Ridge of Stuart as a backup plan. After all, I do seem to have some predilection for West Ridge climbs.

So, Friday after work we rendevous'd at Alex's house around 7:00. Oleg, driving up from Portland, was a bit late, which was okay because I got to talk to Katia a bit, and attempt to flirt with the now-two-year-old Sophia, who I think suspects I might be retarded, because I can't speak or understand Russian. She's turning into a perfectly adorable girl, with curly blonde hair, and the self-confidence of a two-year-old.

So Oleg showed up, and we headed out. I got to ride in the back seat and read Floyd Landis' book, borrowed from Katia, until it got too dark up around the pass.

The parking lot was surprisingly full, but we got a slot right in the corner. I hauled my sleeping gear up the hillside to a picnic table and settled in for my 2:00 AM wakeup call. The moon was up, and so bright that it was like sleeping under a floodlight.

So, we got up, and were on the trail by about 2:45. And, soon made the first mistake. We missed the turn on the trail up to Ingalls Pass. Or, we got to the fork in the trail, but misread the signs, and so headed off down to Esmarelda Basin. We headed down there for about 45 minutes, expressing increased misgivings to eachother, until we finally turned around, and checked the sign, and headed up the proper trail. One hour, down the drain.

On the trail up to Ingalls pass, Mt. Rainier in the morning alpenglow.

Working on my deck at home, I'd stepped on a nail last weekend. I hadn't really given it much thought as the climb approached, but it was pretty uncomfortable. Stepping on rocks is a lot different than strolling down a sidewalk, and I didn't like it much at all. A few Advils lessened the ache, but it never really went away.

Goats by the camping area. There were actually half a dozen scattered around.

Up to the pass, and down the other side, through that exquisite valley with trees and campsites, and goats. There was a little herd of half a dozen or so there, and both Alex and I snapped a few photos of them before continuing on to Ingalls Lake, where we had a bit of breakfast, refilled our water containers with the water filter, and then headed on. Alex was hoping for a nice photo of Stuart reflected in the lake, but there was just enough wind to ripple the water really frustratingly. I told him next time, he ought to bring a quart of motor oil, and dump it in there. That'd cut down the ripples for a really nice photo!

So, we didn't get to the base of the actual climb until about 8:00. It starts nicely enough, up a shallow gully along the west ridge of the mountain, easy class 3 scrambling. Then, the routefinding difficulties started. Stuart is a BIG mountain, and it's difficult to transfer the images on a photo or diagram onto the terrain you're on.

Looking west the the mountain, to Ingalls Peak and Lake on the right, and Mt. Rainier on the left.

There is a prominent couloir that appears in the photo in the Beckey book, and it looks in the photo like another scree slope, but it's actually a very nice granite couloir. It's sort of smooth granite, not the really rough stuff, I guess it's smoothed and kept clean by water and avalanches coming down there. That made for some very nice class 3 scrambling up to the ridge crest.

Looking up at Long John Tower. The yellow X is about where we saw the goats.

Just below the Long John's Tower gap, we struggled up a messy piece of scrambling. It wasn't technically hard, but there was so much scree and sand on the ledge and holds that we felt like we needed to rope up for safety. (You'd feel pretty stupid, after all, to fall to your death with your rope safely in your pack!) Then, standing there looking up at the messy couloir up towards the gap, we saw a mountain goat stick his head over the edge, looking down at us. He proceeded down, picking his way, not dislodging a bit of rock as he came down the steep couloir. I thought he was coming to beg off us, so I started to get an apple out of my pack, but he proceeded past, and down that messy scramble we'd just come up.

We were feeling a but less like the apex species, watching how nonchalantly this guy had meandered past us, when his baby, a small goat about the size of a German Shephard, came just running down the couloir, and disappeared down after his parent, in about twenty seconds.

Mama (?) goat. The baby moved to fast for either of us to draw our cameras and shoot.

A refugee from Easter Island gazes on Mt. Rainer. I can't help but wonder what it's like up here in, say, February.

So, on we went, picking interesting lines. We simulclimbed for a while, and I led a very dicy bit of climbing in my trail shoes, around this quite exposed corner. I put in a cam and called to Alex to watch me, and made the move, very grateful to end up safely. Then, seventy feet later, Alex called to ME to watch him, as he got to that spot, and a bit later, Oleg called to Alex to watch HIM. Oleg said later he thought that was 5.7, which for me, anyhow, particularly with those shoes, is pretty macho.

The last two pitches, properly roped, went pretty slowly. Three people is an awkward number to rock climb with. Then we were on the summit, around 5:00, where we found the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition in the summit register box, and chatted with a couple of climbers who'd just come up the North Ridge. Then, the descent.

The descent is clearly the kidney stone of this climb. It's so long, tedious, and stupid. I hate it! Part of the problem is that you meander, seemingly, all over the south side of the mountian. There are a few cairns in place, and someone has even wrapped a few of the cairn stones in red survey tape, which helps immensely, but still finding your way down the cascadia couloir is really hard. There must be a fifty people a week descending this in the summer time, you'd think the trail would be very well established. But you'd be wrong.

On the descent, a great view of the Stuart Balanced Rock.

We finally ended up going down the next couloir to the left (east) which, after I realized it, I thought would be easier because it would be a bit less steep. And it probably was, but it ended up dumping us out into a mile or so of bushwhacking. it wasn't as bad as, say, Whitehorse peak, bushwhacking on this side of the cascade crest is considerably less brutal than in the wet side, but it still was pretty tedious. And, as the sun sunk lower, the level of alarm increased.

But, finally we came to a real trail, which turned out to be the Ingalls Creek Trail, much smaller and more trashed than I remembered it. We stopped at a stream and washed off a bit, and filtered more water, and headed west, to Long's Pass trail, which was, fortunately, signed.

Across the creek, up the trail, following the sketchy trail as the light continued to fade. Finally, in almost complete darkness, we lost the trail, and decided with some displeasure expressed on my part, to spend the night. it was frustrating to look up at the pass, still silouetted in the twilight, and not being able to get there. Had we not screwed up the Esmerelda Basin trail in the morning, we'd be up there before now!

I had my emergency storm shelter, which is a tube of thin pastic about six feet long. It did keep me a bit warmer, but quite a bit of condensation built up in there. From here on out, I bring my bivvy sack, I think. Alex had a space blanket which glowed weirdly in the darkness. Oleg had brought along his very compact sleeping bag, and slept the best of any of us.

I actually got some sleep, moments here and there, and we got up and got moving around 5:00. We found the trail almost immediately, and were up on top of Long's Pass in half an hour. Then, just the long, tedious slog down the hill, to the car.

All in all, the climbing on the North Ridge is much nicer, and probably no harder, especially if you bypass the gendarme. It'll be a while before I climb this mountain again, that descent is just too brutal!

photo note -- these photos were taken with my Nikon N80 film camera, and scanned, with minor editing in Photoshop.