It turns out that great days in the mountains make for boring stories. Laurel Fan and I climbed the Early Winter Spires on Thursday, September 29, and it was a good long day. This trip report is mostly an excuse for sharing pictures.

Our motivation was to be in the sun. The day before we had lugged way too much gear to the base of Liberty Crack only to find the entire face in the shade and the start hidden inside a narrow snow moat, sporting freezing temps and promising a day of early winter misery should we proceed with our initial plan. So we bailed. OK, I bailed. I didn’t want to hang out in the ice box without a belay jacket. I wasn’t ready for ice-climbing-worthy weather. It was still September!

Laurel Fan, as seen from the moat at the base of Liberty Crack

So the Thursday plan was to stay in the sun as much as possible by climbing the South Early Winter Spire by the South Arete (5.4 or maybe 5.6 depending who you ask) in the morning, and the North Early Winter Spire by the Northwest Corner 5.9 in the afternoon.

WA Pass from Blue Lake trail in the early morning

We were at the parking lot around 7:30am, where we saw five Mounties gathered around their class leader who was talking about a chimney. We tried our best to beat them to the base of SEWS. That didn’t happen, but the leader graciously let us go first. Freezing in the chilly breezy pass and barely feeling my feet inside the approach shoes, I spent a bit of time fiddling at the “crux” start, but finally pulled through to easier terrain, and we were off.

We simul-climbed the route, tagging the top of the summit boulder at 11:15am. On the way back down we passed a father-daughter party: the daughter leading and gently coaching her father on footwork.

Laurel Fan and Paulina Varshavskaya on the summit of SEWS

View portion from summit of SEWS with climbers on S Arete

The South Arete is a spectacular outing with a great mountaineering feel. This rib a pitch above the “long sandy bench” is especially cool although the picture unfortunately doesn’t do it justice.

The exposed rib (5.2) on South Arete, SEWS

By the time we had some snacks and headed over to the base of NEWS, it was 2:30pm. As the stronger climber, Laurel led the entire Northwest Corner route, with me concentrating on following as fast as possible so we could be back down before dark. It’s not a straightforward route, with some big loose-ish flakes on the exposed third 5.8 pitch, laybacking which spooked me, and a very strenuous 5.9 offwidth in a flaring corner for the crux.

Laurel Fan leading p1 of NW Corner, NEWS

Laurel dispatched the whole thing in perfect style, running together the two crux pitches. As for me, I A0-ed them, pulling on gear and shouting “up rope!” for every tenth of an inch of vertical progress — in the interest of time, you see, and not at all because climbing practically overhanging flaring 5.9 offwidth is such incredibly hard work.

Laurel Fan on p3 belay, NW Corner, NEWS

In any case, we were at the top rap station at 6pm, and back at our packs at 7, just as the sun went down over the mountains.

Obligatory dusk over the mountains

And here we are. What did I tell you? Great day! Boring story.

Notes: two 4″ cams would have been helpful on p4 (crux) of the Northwest Corner on NEWS; the NEWS descent is four 30m raps down the gully with some steep walking in between.

Final free-hanging rappel

The Chief from Burgers and Fries, by Laurel Fan

Squamish. I’d heard of this place. Something about 1,000-ft tall granite walls on something called The Chief. Something about endless Pacific rain. Something about the hardest crack climb in the world evah.

And then you took me there. For which, many thanks.

Thanks to Dawn’s tireless organizing, spreadsheet editing and general cat herding over the past month or so, thirteen cats made it to the Paradise valley campground last weekend: Dawn Chapel, Traisa Skarbo, Nancy Kim, Anne Tarver, Heather Mirczak, Laurel Fan, Leah Kim, Adrianne Hersrud, Michelle Sexton, Suzie Day, Sonja Bring, Chris Gan, and Paulina Varshavskaya. In the mornings — which ranged from sixish for the crazy morning chickens to crack o’noon for the ladies of leisure — we gathered under Traisa and Dawn’s
unmistakable canopy for breakfast. In the evenings, we sat around the expertly stoked campfire and sang to Michelle’s sweet chords…

Camp Kitchen, by Laurel Fan

What am I talking about? This was a climbing trip. Things were climbed on this trip, beautiful granite formations, lovely cracks, scary smeary faces, and pumpy traversing overhangs.

The cats were not thwarted by the rain, or only long enough to have some alternative fun on Friday morning. Some hiked to the top of the Chief, others went on a pilgrimage to Cobra Crack 5.14, and the smartest of all didn’t arrive in Squamish until Friday night.

Dawn and Traisa on top of the Chief, from Dawn's camera

This is what it's all about! by Laurel Fan

Ah but we climbed all three days. Friday afternoon saw us at Burgers and Fries in Smoke Bluffs, where Leah “passed” (in her own words) her first mock lead with flying colors, Dawn pushed her limits on lead despite the on and off drizzle, and Anne waltzed up a friction slab in the rain, after biting her tongue as a pair of unknown a-holes did toprope laps through rap rings.

Leah (mock) leading Dusty Eyes 5.4 at Burgers and Fries, by Laurel Fan

Saturday we congregated in the Neat and Cool area. Among the highlights of the day, Laurel led Neat and Cool 5.10 twice with gumption and grace, despite taking a fall the first time and pulling pro. Sonja went the hard way while leading Cornflakes, making it a solid 5.7+. And Paulina and Suzie entertained the crowds with their extraordinary communication skills.

Sonja leading Cornflakes 5.7 at Neat and Cool, by Laurel Fan

Laurel leading Neat and Cool 5.10, by Dawn Chapel

The whole gang (minus Laurel) at Neat and Cool, by Laurel Fan

Unfortunately, we all had to go home on Sunday, the most beautiful day of the weekend. Before hitting the road, Traisa and Dawn climbed the 5.8 crack on Bog Wall. Laurel led Team Weakling (Leah and Paulina) up St Vitus Dance 5.9 on the Apron — a great varied route once it starts properly after the first two “adventure” pitches up the dirty and wet vertical jungle. Nancy, Anne and Heather climbed Stephanie’s Tears 5.9 at Upper Malamute after finding 13,000 people on Skywalker and another 13,000 people queuing. Last I heard, Adrianne opted for hiking to the top of the Chief, and Suzie and Michelle went sport-climbing. What were Sonja and Chris up to? The public needs to know.

Laurel at an anchor on St Vitus Dance 5.9

Paulina dancing on St Vitus Dance 5.9, by Laurel Fan

In conclusion, I’d like to point out that the annual Squamish trip was an excellent time enjoyed by excellent gals all around. That many thanks are due to the organizer, the drivers, the rope guns, the guitar player, the singers, the water boilers, the fire stokers, and everybody who came to hang out and climb. And that my new Squamish Select guidebook only has a few tick marks in it now, so we should do it again soon.

More pictures:

Laurel belays Leah on a vegetation pitch, St Vitus Dance 5.9

Nancy and Anne demo the latest in climbing fashion in camp, by Dawn Chapel

Suzie chilling at Neat and Cool, by Dawn Chapel

Michelle pulling a rope at Neat and Cool, by Dawn Chapel

Adrianne at Neat and Cool, by Dawn Chapel

Laurel losing her mind as the planning committee considers the options, by Leah Kim?

A descending scale: Nancy, Dawn, Anne, Paulina, Sherri, Bija

WCN crew taking a union break

I’ve never seen so many chicks in Carrharts.

For the second year in a row, WCN participated in an all-women’s trail work day organized by Mountains to Sound Greenway. WCN volunteers Anne Tarver, Colleen Hinton, Dawn Chapel, Traisa Skarbo,  Diane Hennessey, Donna Horn and I reported for work detail at the Little Si trailhead on Saturday May 16 at 9am.

After a safety briefing, we shouldered our packs and tools and headed up the trail to one of two projects. The WCN crew stayed together to work on a rock retaining wall half a mile up the trail at a stream culvert. Our job: to find large rocks and move them with tools and a combination of leverage, muscle and gravity to their new creekside home. The purpose: to stem erosion on the heavily-trafficked Little Si trail with its Goldilocks grade, not too flat, not too steep.

Dawn Chapel wielding a pick axe

Project sponsor REI provided this year’s swag, a ‘Get Dirty’ wicking tee in pistachio with brown contrast stitching.

Mountains to Sound volunteer coordinator Margaret Ullman doled out special kudos to our crew: “Your team, as always, is spectacular to work with—so energized, conscientious, and willing to problem solve.” Well, maybe she says that to all the girlies.

For those who missed out, there’s another opportunity to volunteer this fall on Saturday, September 17. Details on the Mountains to Sound website.

Nancy and Diane rolling a rock from quarry to culvert

“Is it women’s day on the mountain?” a stranger asked me as I was stripping skins from my skis. “I passed a big group on my way up. I’ve never seen so many women here.”

I had just arrived at Camp Muir with Laurie Cullen. The addled chap must have tallied a baker’s dozen of females that Saturday. Resisting the impulse to fire off a sarcastic salvo, I told the man that we were all part of Women Climbers Northwest and that we had camped out the night before on Mazama Ridge. He smiled and seemed pleased to know that such a group existed—women whose ‘Ten Essentials’ for a ski trip don’t include a lift, a lodge and a lad.

It was snowing at the Paradise parking lot where we met on Friday, March 19. It was snowing on our yard sale of plastic boots and puffy jackets, chemical hand warmers and 33-oz. fuel bottles, avy shovels and stout tents. Obviously, it was a winter sale. Slowly, the gear compressed itself into packs. The cumbersome winter packs, and their owners—Dawn Chapel, Traisa Skarbo, Laurie Cullen, Chelle Draper, Carla Schauble, Mary Yocom, Laurel Fan, Diane Hennessey, Anne Drew Potter, trip leader Colleen Hinton and your humble narrator–headed east to Mazama Ridge by the crack of noon.

After gaining the ridge, we headed south to a gladed expanse where the mountain hemlocks might offer a bit of protection, depending on the wind direction. We dropped our gear and broke for lunch, then made camp. Laurel dug a simplified snow cave, one without a sleeping platform, while the rest of us set up tents. Then the real excavation work began. We had among the group gear, two Black Diamond Megamids, lightweight, single-pole shelters to serve as twin taverns for cooking, eating, imbibing and general merry making. Each tavern (kitchen is too prosaic a term) was constructed in a similar fashion with a U-shaped bench surrounding the table, which supported the center-pole.

Tavern Tent (photo: Laurel Fan)

Seven thousand shovel strokes later, the taverns were completed. Colleen suggested yo-yoing the west slopes of Mazama Ridge and half the gang heeded the call while others hung around camp. Though the temperature had risen and wet snow was starting to fall, the conditions were divine. We carved facile turns through a blank slate of decadent powder and all too quickly, we found ourselves back at the road.

“Anyone up for another run?” Colleen asked.

I was hungry. Fun can be an effective appetite suppressant, but the need for calories trumped my desire to link a few more turns, so Colleen and Carla skied a second powder run in the last of the day’s light while I trundled off with Diane, Laurie and Anne Drew to our campsite. Back at camp, I collected the stove, fuel and comestibles to prep dinner. Glancing at the pump mechanism on my fuel bottle, then at the male fitting of Colleen’s stove fuel line, I sensed a disquieting feeling: round peg, square hole. In the gear divvying, Colleen brought her Dragonfly while I had brought the fuel, with a Whisperlite fuel pump. I cursed MSR for making the Whisperlite and Dragonfly unique and unmateable. The compatibility issue had entered my head, but must have left via one of several holes before finding a voice. Meanwhile, Laurel discovered her new child-proof fuel bottle was also stove-proof. She had to remove an O-ring (does anyone else find that terminology redundant?) to couple bottle and pump. And Mary was trying to make the best go of her cold-hostile canister stove. Colleen and I were saved from frigid, crunchy suppers thanks to Traisa and Dawn who lent us their Dragonfly.

Blue Sky (photo: Laurel Fan)

Saturday morning revelry rang at 7. It seemed bright through the tent so I was curious to see what the conditions were outside. I pulled on down booties, unzipped the door and emerged to the bluest of skies. Postcard views. Rainier to the north and the Tatoosh range to the south. Hoar frost glistened. I poked around camp and found fox tracks. A Cascade red fox had explored our tents and visited Laurel in her snow cave during the night. Looking to the north, I saw that Vulpes vulpes had followed our skin track.

Fox Tracks (photo: Nancy Kim)

The plan was to ski Muir. Clare Parfitt had driven from Seattle that morning and hoped to rendez-vous with the group, perhaps at Panarama Point. Colleen stashed a two-way radio for Clare on the wheel of her Toyota, carried the other one in her pack, and instructed Clare to check in with the group. Mary headed down to Paradise to grab her forgotten avalanche beacon and meet Clare. Poor Clare, who had arrived early, got stymied by the still-closed gate at Longmire for several hours.

We had a diverse group, at least in terms of locomotion–tele and randonnee skiers and snowshoers. Chelle, Laurel and Mary hoofed it on snowshoes while the rest of us skinned up. It was windless and warm and gorgeous. At any given moment, someone was peeling off another layer or snapping another photo. Laurel shed down to a summery sleeveless layer, looking more like a desert cragger than a Muir-bound climber. Trending northwest, we picked the safest route around a potentially unfriendly knob, still west of Edith Creek. We observed shallow slide activity in the distance on the Nisqually glacier, but no major crowns from point-release avalanches.

Muir Snowfield (photo: Laurel Fan)

Clare canceled the rendez-vous with a decision to head to camp before skiing, so we continued, bound for higher ground for as long as ski conditions seemed worthy of the effort. Colleen, Carla, Laurie and I made it to Muir, while others turned around somewhere just below Anvil Rock.

Those familiar with Muir ski conditions know the top invariably sucks. Ice skates are recommended. However, I had never skied the snow field earlier than April. This time, I carved turns in powder, swooshing, not scraping my way down the south side of Mt. Rainier. With less than a thousand feed to descend, we ran into Clare who joined us for the last turns of the day. A lentincular cloud billowed ominously in the sky. Meanwhile, Dawn, Traisa and Diane ran into an Ashford local on their descent. The former park ranger, equipped with straight, skinny planks that hinted at his age, engaged in friendly conversation and suggested several alternative tours off the beaten skin track.

Skinning (photo: Laurel Fan)

When Laurie, Carla, Colleen, Clare and I rolled into camp, the others had set up their stoves outside the taverns to take in the views. Colleen broke out the mulled wine (she had schlepped up two liters making her a communitarian, alcoholic, or both) and honey mustard pretzels to share. As dusk turned to darkness, the full moon lit up sky and illuminated our snow-covered ridge. A few hundred yards from camp, two Cascade foxes were playing in the snow, chasing each other. They were in their winter color phase, almost black. The two adults, a male and vixen I assumed, were playing like two kits in their first snowfall.

The wind picked up that night. Colleen and I had the camping permit lashed to our tent and it flapped against the taut fly with percussive, sleep-hindering monotony. It was a long night, followed by a cold and windy morning. Nobody was particulary keen on a ski tour and it seemed the only sensible thing to do was break camp and head out. We skied down to the road through a lovely wind crust. We gathered at the new Visitor’s Center where we grabbed a small bite to eat, thanked Colleen for her impeccable organization and leadership, thanked everyone for their good cheer and attitudes, and sang happy birthday to our newest member, Anne Drew.

Group Photo (photo: Nancy Kim)

More photos:

• from Colleen
• from Laurel
• from Carla

Download it here (PDF format): Winter Camping Primer

Enjoy!

OK, OK, I know – nothing like a trip report almost 4 months later!

But, we did want to fill in enquiring minds about a rocking trip to Smith Rock in the Fall. Hosted by Mary Yocom, a long-time WCNer who grew up in Redmond, Oregon and returned to live there several years ago, these regular – if infrequent – trips to central Oregon have become permanent fixtures on the WCN trip calendar.

For the uninitiated – Mary’s pad is like stepping back into the 60s – it’s a trip! She has pretty much retained her parents’ original décor and the house is literally a trip down Memory Lane – a very personal one for her no doubt, but for those of us who actually lived in the 60s and 70s, it’s still a generic trip down Memory Lane! From the turquoise leather couch to the wood paneling and pictures on the walls – a true classic! The attendees are asked to draw a number and each person gets to choose a room and a bed or sleeping spot on the floor based on the number she has drawn. Sometimes people set up a tent in the garden for the true camping experience.

The participants on this particular trip were:

Sonja Bring
Dawn Chapel
Traisa Skarbo
Nancy Kim
Laurel Fan
Chris Gan
Colleen Hinton
Clare Parfitt
Michele Sexton
Paulina Varshavskaya
Mary Yocom (natch)
Carla Schauble and Amy Recker met up with us at various points – they were staying with their friend Eve in Bend.
Robin Brower, fresh off the summer Alaskan guiding circuit, who joined us for dinner on Saturday night on her way down south.

People carpooled and drove in at various times throughout the 3-4 day weekend.
Everybody went rock climbing at Smith on Friday. One of the firm traditions of these Oregon trips is to have great food, with people organizing into tag teams for each meal. We have come to expect to wake up to freshly baked goods served by Mary – what a treat! Traisa and Dawn prepared a wonderful soup and salad on Friday evening.

Nancy and Colleen, Wherever I May Roam

On Saturday, the weather gods did not smile upon the entire central OR area and it rained on and off. Nancy and Mary went fishing on the Metolius River, Dawn and Traisa went mountain biking just outside Bend, Sonja, Colleen and Chris went hiking along the Metolius River; while Laurel, Michele and Paulina into practiced some aid climbing in the drier territory at Smith.

Paulina Belaying in the Rain

Saturday was a festive evening as Clare joined us after her long solo drive from Seattle (and getting caught in awful traffic in the middle of nowhere) and Colleen and Nancy prepared Colleen’s famous garbanzo bean curry. Unfortunately there was a bit of an error with the spicing of the Spice Pussies’ pot and they ended up getting something that was rather hard to differentiate from the Spice Queens’ version. Poor, sweating Paulina V could finally call herself a Spice Queen, if only for a night. Robin entertained us with guiding stories from her summer in Alaska, and as the evening wore on, a spontaneous karaoke event unfurled, with Michelle and Dawn providing the guitar accompaniment.

On Sunday morning after a long, lazy breakfast, some of us went back to Smith for a few more pitches of climbing before hitting the road back to Seattle. The morning brought lovely sunshine but it was looking rather threatening again by mid-afternoon when we packed it in.

All in all, a very pleasant weekend. Thanks again to our gracious hostess with the mostess, Mary, for hosting our large, boisterous group yet again.

Check out the photos on Facebook!

When answering nature’s call, women in the backcountry often envy the
ability of men to simply about face, unzip and relieve themselves. The
ability to pee standing up is no longer the sole province of men with
the entry of numerous devices on the market which claim to liberate
women from squatting ignominy. Among these is a newcomer called the
Whiz Freedom that’s hydrophobic and collapsible.

For whatever reason, I had always scoffed at the Freshette, an earlier
entrant to this niche market. Then I started thinking about how nice
it would be to forgo the nasty pit toilets at popular trailheads. A
particularly gruesome encounter with a Honey Bucket in Olalla got me
really thinking. I was fly fishing on the South Sound and had to stop
and pee. Dropping my waders without soiling my suspenders or my bottom
in the nastiness was an exercise in bomb-defusing delicacy. I managed
to relieve my bladder and extricate myself from the horror chamber
without incident.

Browsing the store at BackpackingLight.com, I came across the Whiz and
decided to buy one. In February, I field tested it on a three-day
winter camping and backcountry ski trip. I had practiced using it at
home where the consequences of misuse could be remedied quickly with a
change of clothes. Holding the device in the correct position, with
the broad area up, and positioning it in the “sweet spot” are key. At
times I did not position the Whiz low enough which yielded disastrous
results. But once I figured out the Goldilocks spot-not too high, not
low-I was quite pleased with my $20 purchase.

The Whiz Freedom is ultralight at half an ounce (14 grams), small,
measuring roughly six inches, and collapsible rather than rigid,
making it easy to stuff in a pocket. While I haven’t used the
Freshette, the device carried by REI, IÕd say the crushable Whiz holds
the design edge. Whiz manufacturer JBOL Ltd. also sells an extension,
essentially a length of surgical tubing, that attaches to the nozzle
of the Whiz for use with a pee bottle. For anyone who camps in the
winter, or spends time at altitude in cold, windy conditions, learning
to use a pee bottle enhances quality of life. I used the Whiz and a
pee bottle on the Colorado River this spring to avoid trekking down to
the water in the middle of the night.

So what about the hygienic factor? Manufactured from medical-grade
material, the Whiz is anti-bacterial and liquid-repellant, so it’s
flick dry. Currently, there is scant retail distribution for the Whiz
in the United States. MEC in Canada carries it but REI in the US does
not. Backpackinglight.com sells the Whiz for $20. It’s available in
white and purple. For more information, check out whizfreedom.com.

Every year they let us, we climb Mt St. Helens. We climb on Mother’s Day even though Reg wants to change it to a different weekend. He says he doesn’t like the city of people going up, the crowds vying for a spot on the crest top. I think he doesn’t like how he looks in a dress. Nonetheless, he lets Colleen dress him in the parking lot with little complaints (maybe he DOES like wearing the dress) and off we trudge. (Colleen would like to note that WCN outfits were severely lacking this year, much to her disgust.)

I love this outing, but this year was the best. No, it wasn’t the grueling hike up, it took me longer this year than ever before, age I guess, or maybe it was that not getting in shape thing; it wasn’t even the ski down through the slog that had me grinning. It was the drive that I will remember for years. I was in my van with Nancy, Colleen, Reg, and Linda. Linda is my friend who joined WCN on this trip, her first one with our irreverent group. Reg had hoped to get some sleep, having just arrived from Europe. His mistake was riding in the same car as Nancy and Colleen. The two of them have not perfected the skill of silence. Why should they? Especially when such a ready target is snoring just one butt away. Imagine that there are three closed doors. Behind one of these doors is a car; behind the other two are goats. The contestant does not know where the car is, but the game show host does. The contestant picks a door and the game show host opens one of the remaining doors, one she knows doesn’t hide the car. If the contestant has already chosen the correct door, the host is equally likely to open either of the two remaining doors.

After the host has shown a goat behind the door that she opens, the contestant is always given the option to switch doors. What is the probability of winning the car if she stays with her first choice? What if she decides to switch? If you say the chances are 50/50, you are wrong. This is a classic statistical puzzle known as the Monty Hall Problem. Not batting a wide-awake eyelash, Reg whips out his cell phone, opens the internet and looks up Monty Hall and we have a
great discussion on the answer. You can do the same thing. Then Reg challenged us with the question he was asked when he interviewed with Microsoft: You are in a room with a light bulb hanging from the ceiling. You can reach above the light bulb but you cannot reach the ceiling. You have a ruler, a piece of paper and a pair of scissors. Tell me the procedure to calculate the height of the ceiling. You cannot touch the ceiling by holding the ruler either. Only a Microsoft want-to-be can figure that out. But, tell me this; why did this guy go into a restaurant, sit down, order Pelican as his main course, take one bite and fall over dead? Why, oh why? That little riddle took a good 45 minutes to solve. Don’t even try to figure it out, you need me answering your yes and no questions to find the answer. So don’t forget to take me on your next long car trip!

Oh yes, the mountain. The best outfit of the day went hands down to Michele and Bob, who both wore extremely bouncy tutus, Michele complete with matching veil. Colleen wore her usual gold lame skirt, gold beads, gawdy pink apron, and gauzy hat. Brian donned a lovely surfer-chick skirt that he surfed down the mountain in. This was by
far the most attended St. Helen’s trudge I have ever participated in: 17 of us altogether!

We were:
Nancy Kim
Linda Morton
Colleen Hinton and her mate, Reg Greef
Laurel Fan
Clare Parfitt
Mary Yocom
Lovorka Knezevic
Cris Smith
Kris Cummings
and Carolyn Blair
Brian Clark (their sherpa)
Kari Lyons (WCNer from Portland) and her boyfriend
Michele Dickson and her husband Bob del Gizzi (Colleen’s friends from Portland)

The snow conditions worsened as we descended; thick, slog. Clare, Nancy, and I struggled on our tele skis while the boarders rode with comparative ease. Clare finally just took her skis off and walked. Even so, it was a great trip, one I will always remember.

Click here to download (PDF)