Silver Star and Delancey Ridge

Silver Star, the bread and butter of the North Cascades Heli-skiing

Early Winter Spires, Liberty Bell, and Porcupine

Cutthroat Peak

Porcupine Peak

The Needles

McGregor and Glacier in the distance

Kangaroo Ridge

Gardner

Silver Star massif

The Delancey Ridge

The Wine Spires

The Wine Spires (Pernod, Chianti, and Burgundy (one of the hardest summits in the NW))

Mounts Rideout and Silvertip (Canada) in the distance

Mike skinning up within view of where we parked under the avalanche chute in the background. A long way down.

The view off the south side of Silver Star at Snagtooth Ridge

Glacier Peak

McGregor NE face

Dome Peak

Bonanza North Face

Maude, Fernow, and Copper

Mount Robinson

"Silver Star, the alpine climax of the Methow Mountains, is a grand mountain fortress of magnificent diversity. Despite a chaotic appearance, Silver Star has a finished design--on an immense scale. Gables of rock strike and dip in seemingly planned directions, each in some manner imitating the others in a repetitive scheme." Fred Beckey, the first guy to climb everything there is to climb on Silver Star, and the same for the Cascades pretty much.

Mike and I left Seattle at 4:30am to get to Mazam by 9:30. Looking up the Delancey Ridge from the Silver Star carpark, we thought we'd get in a quick 2,000 foot run and maybe do another lap. It was a beautiful sunny day and the slope was corning up very nicely. We didn't want to get too tired though for the big day tomorrow: Silver Star. Delancey took longer than we thought, even though we skinned straight uphill, not needing to switchback because the snow gripped well enough on the 30-35 degree slope. After a few hours we made it to the top, took in the spectacular alpine scenery that surrounded us, seeing mountains we rarely see from the other side. Then we were excited to ski the corn down.

The downhill took a long time. The corn was great and easy to ski, but man did we have to stop a lot to catch our breath. And the downhill kept going and going. Consistent, smooth corn the whole way down, what a run! We couldn't believe how long it felt. It was definitely the longest 2,000 foot run I've ever had. We asked a guy in the carpark how long it was: 2100 feet-ish. Looking it up on Google Earth today, I see that it was 3,400-ish. Now that's more like it!

Then we found the Early Winters campground parking lot, pulled out our thermarests and sun bathed and drank beer. At first we wished we had brought cards, or something to read, or even a laptop to watch a flick. Nada. But with the help of the beers, the tales unfurled and we laughed until the sun went down. Then popped some sleeping pills, 3X the dosage, and were out cold for the next 11 hours. Now that's what I'm talking about!

Woke up at 7, drove to the TH, met some other Seattlelites gearing up for the tour. I ripped a foul one, "Have you guys had beans this morning?" asked one of the dudes. I burst out laughing and said no.

"Do you want some?"

"What? Beans?"

"Yeah. You know, coffee."

"Oh, hell yeah."

A great start to the morning since we had had our cup of joe.

One of them had already done the tour and knew the way, so we just followed their track pretty much up the 5 miles and over 5,000 vertical feet to the summit col, marveling in the unbelievable scenery around us. The Wine Spires felt like a little Cerro Torre, Standhart and Egger, or something in Chamonix. The views of the Cascades south from the col were spectacular and unusual for us. Bonanza, Maude, McGregor, Dome. Wow! The Snagtooth Ridge below looked incredible too. Right as we were clicking into our skis, a North Cascades helicopter came in like a bat out of hell. "Comin' in hot! Comin' in hot!" Two of the guides and their two little kids and a wife hopped out. Tomorrow is their last day. Lucky kids.

The snow was a mixed bag: Windpack to powder to corn to slush. Hell of a tour.

Tatoosh Revisited: Plummer and No Name

Plummer

Ryan White on the Pinnacle Peak circumnavigation tour

South side of Plummer

Southwest side of Unicorn Peak

Goat Rocks

Ryan skiing down to the Pinnacle/Plummer col

Mike doing the same

Mike skiing down from Plummer

Ryan blazing down Plummer

Lane Peak

Zipper Couloir crown

Mike under the Tooth (different trip)

Mount St. Helens

Unicorn

Mount Adams

Mike and Ryan

Unicorn, Polycorn (unofficial but better than nothing), Adams, and Foss Peak

Tevens Peak and Unicorn

Stevens above Unicorn, north ridge

Foss, a sweet mountain top

Polycorn and Adams

Mike and Ryan thinking about dropping in

Castle from the east

After skiing the Tatoosh the last 4 out of 5 days of skiing, on the way up we were afraid of getting a little Tatooshed out. It is a small range after all. But then, thinking about the proximity to Seattle, the high elevation that the road brings you to, the stunning beauty of the rocky pinnacle mountaintops around you and Rainier right across from you, the sweet terrain to ski in any avy condition, and the wildness you feel due to the lack of people and the possibilities of tours we have not yet done, we weren't that close to getting Tatooshed out.

The last tour we did a circumnavigation of Pinnacle Peak by going up to the Castle/Pinnacle col, traversing around the south side of Pinnacle, then skiing down to the Pinnacle/Plummer col, hustling up Plummer (a cool mountaintop) before the storm rolled in, then having a great long run down to the valley floor. The spontaineous decision making and our course that went through new terrain gave the tour a sense of exciting exploration, compounded by the dark clouds heading our way that added urgency and adventure. Then, reaching a mountaintop, the epitome of achieving a goal or completing a challenge, is always a reward before the downhill, another reward, and a reward that loses more meaning on chairlifts.

People in the carpark below, especially at Rainier NP, ask why you hike uphill. They think it's crazy. They usually have southern license plates, big cars, and don't walk further than the 50 yards to get to the next scenic overlook. I want to tell them its crazier to drive to WA from Texas and not get out of the car when you're in these mountains. This time, I even pulled out my skins, let them feel the one way traction, wanting to convince them this isn't crazy! You're crazy not to do it, it's so good, as Bill Briggs would say.

Yesterday was a beautiful day and we went up to the Castle, then took a left up the ridge, skied off the south side, skinned back up to the little lake under No Name, skinned up that ridge while drooling over the ski terrain next to us. Got near the top and saw a sweet couloir that looked burly with the big cornice and cliffs around it. This is where we discussed the difference between inbounds and backcountry. The couloir wouldn't even deserve hesitation if it was inbounds. But out here, this far back, you think about avalanches, injuries, how you could get out, getting lost in a fog, losing a ski, etc. There are many factors to be weighed all day long, making this sport so much more involved than the inbounds variety, which is fun but more mindless. And after you do it awhile, even the uphills are a part of the highlights: "Man, skinning that ridge was the best part!"

But the couloir was short and would cut us off from our out, and beyond the couloir it looked a bit flat, so we decided to ski the run we drooled over next to the skin track. It skied beautifully. The undulating pitches were a playground for bank turns and hucking off rollovers. The snow was boot top cream. No worries over avalanches. So we went back up for more. Then traversed north, skiing more pitches down to the road.

Tatooshed out? Far from it. Next up: the riding that great Unicorn in the sky.

Ryan's pics: http://picasaweb.google.com/115364793136330312152/NoNamePeakTatoosh?feat=email#