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33 Chimney Rock

July 05, 1976

John B and I decided to go light and make this climb as a shakedown for the Picket Range trip. I spent some money on equipment, a camera, and a load of freeze dried food. John came over and woke me on Saturday morning. We were on the road by 7:00 AM. There was a short stop in North Bend while I bought some Top tobacco to roll my own smokes. I had a drippy head cold. So, I tried to get some sleep as John drove over Snoqualmie Pass. We passed through a light rain shower near Easton.

There was a stop at the Roslyn Rex-All where I bought some Contact cold medicine for my cold. The elderly lady behind the counter of the drugstore commented on how crowded the campgrounds would be over this fourth of July weekend. There was a blond, bearded hiker who sat on the steps outside. He said he was going to Marmot Lake. But, we were going up the Cooper River.

After driving north past Lake Cle Elum, we turned onto the Cooper Lake road and then cross the Cle Elum River. As we drifted around the corners of the washboard surface road, John compose one of his unique phrases. He said of the instincts of this 59 Chevy, "It's almost like my car is compelled to follow the rough roads up into the mountains in search of the ore deposits from which it was made".

We crossed the bridge at the east end of Cooper Lake and then passed two horsemen as we bumped up the old logging road north of the lake. As we neared Tired Creek, Chimney Rock came into view. The ominous black rock stretched up to were its distinctive summit was engulfed in a misty overcast. There seemed to be way too much snow. I didn't feel encouraged by the gloomy view. By the time we reach the trail head, we were greeted by a light rain shower and a cloud of aggressive mosquitoes. Just closing up their vehicle; a small group of hikers pulled on their rain gear and started down the trail. John and I dawned our Anoraks to deflect the rain. I lightened my pack by leaving behind a few junk bag items and then I gave John my tent.

As we walked down through the logging slash to meet the connecting trail, we saw some mountain goats over on Island Mountain. Upon reaching the old trail, we stowed our rain gear due to overheating problems. The trail had some big snow patches and the soft tread was torn up with motorbike tracks. We soon came upon a stranded biker who gave us a message for his partner somewhere ahead. It was slow going on the trail due to the mud and icy snow patches. We passed a family group with two small mud puddle splashers. We met the other biker near Escondido Creek (Cooper River). I gave him the message and a threaded nut that I had found along the trail.

Escondido Creek (Cooper River) was crossed on a log, and soon we were at Pete Lake. It was tent city at the east end of the lake. The rain was coming down hard as we traverse the north shore of Pete Lake. The soon to be extinct shelter at the west end of Pete Lake was occupied by a sister-brother team. "Ya mind if we dry out a bit", I said. They invited us to cozy up beside their fire and then we talked until the steam stopped rising off my wool shirt. John and I packed up the trail with our Anoraks back on. The man camped a short distance up the trail said that there were two other Chimney Rock climbing parties ahead of us.

Chimney Creek was running high. And as a result, the crossing was tricky. The rain had let up slightly, so John and I stored our rain gear again. A Forest Service temporary sign showed the way to the Way Trail. We turned on to the Way Trail, and then follow the faint path up the north side a Lemah Creek. We took a Granola Bar break where the new Cascade Crest trail crossed Lemah Creek. From the new bridge, we continued up Lemah Creek until we came to the water falls. Our route moved right, away from the creek, over mossy terraces. I notice how ugly my boot tracks were in the fragile moss that carpeted the terraces. As we ducked through a small alder patch, I saw some big mushrooms.

The route opened up, and then traversed over polished rock. A distinct line of cairns continued up Lemah Creek. However, we climbed right, up the White Snag route that went up the Lemah-Chimney ridge. The route was steep and there was a lot of sweat. I was still bothered by our intrusive tracks up the ridge, and I made a satirical comment about stomping through this garden of bright flowers. As we climbed, The Lemahs rose out of the skyline to the west, and we began to reap the rewards of our labors. Just below the 4,000 foot level, we found a small spotted fawn. The baby deer was barely two hands long. But, we knew not to touch the baby animal. It's spotted coat blend in perfectly with the grasses that grew along the ridge. The camouflage was so effective that John nearly stepped on the young dear as I followed him up the ridge line.

At 4,000 feet, we tried to move to the right. But, the route was blocked by a deep gully. We decided to continue up the ridge. So, we trudged up the snow. The sun faded behind the clouds that had shrouded Lemah Mountain. The long day was starting to drain me. When we reach the flat area near 5,000 feet, and first viewed the ominous black faces of Chimney Rock up close, I found that my ambition had disappeared with my energy. We rested on a large flat rock and discuss a new less ambitious plan. Instead of going up to the bivouac spot recommended by the guide, we decided to camp on the flat near 5600 feet. We also dropped the plan to climb the North Peak and settled for the true summit of Chimney Rock.

While looking for a site to pitch the tent, we intruded on a group of seven that was eating dinner. When we asked about their plans, they said that they were simply trying to escape the Bicentennial. We whole heartedly agreed with the no fireworks rule, and then they told us of the tent sites that were a little higher up on the ridge. We thank them and concluded that we would not hinder there escape. We found the best campsite and set the tent with a good view of Summit Chief Mountain. While preparing the freeze dried meal, I tried using Zip Lock baggies to re-hydrate the food. But, the experiment was a failure. After eating, John went to sleep and I read from a paper back western until the candle lantern burnt down.

When I climbed out of the tent to cook breakfast, I notice the high clouds. While waiting for the water to boil, I smeared on some Pre-Sun for the first time. After having a hot breakfast, we packed rock gear and rain gear into our packs, and then started up the ridge in search of the route into the Chimney Glacier cirque. Luckily we found, what turned out to be, the easiest way. After dropping down the key ledge, we made a long traverse on good snow. I led an easy pace as we contoured around the bivouac hump. There was a lemon drop break near the lower entrance of the deep gully that cuts the Chimney Glacier.

John took the lead when I've offered, and then made good steps up the steep avalanche debris. John continued out of the gully, and then led out onto the glacier. We stopped a rope up when the crevasses started worrying me. While we tied into the rope, I noticed a group of climbers ascending the south side of the glacier. The clouds had dropped down and the sky would drip intermittently. The visibility had decreased when John led around the Rock Tower. As John was about to cross the first bergschrund, there was a loud sound of an avalanche. John step back in time to see a large block of snow obliterate the spot where he had been standing. We had a short but thoughtful discussion on luck and safety before John went on to cross the first bergschrund using the recently modified avalanche bridge.

We traversed left to pass the number two bergschrund on the left rock buttress. I belayed John as he attempted to cross the moat on to some icy, dripping, rotten rock. The next thing I knew, I was pulling John out of the moat. He was slightly freaked out. So, I took the lead and barely managed to get up the wet rock. Next I kicked up steep snow to the third bergschrund. We traversed right below the last bergschrund. But, we found no route across it.

When we came to a steep rock pitch, John said, "All right Mister Rock man." Of course we both knew he was better on rock than I was. But still, John was gracious enough to offer me the lead, seeing as the route looked impossible. With a competitive air, and not willing to back down from the challenge of a dare, I cautiously edged up the dripping rock face. I carried an increasing sense of momentum through a hard mantle move that placed me on a slick mossy ledge. Above the ledge was an overhanging roof that provided an unpleasant shower of frigid ice water. I diligently explored the ledge left and right. But, I found no easy route. The most feasible line of attack, was a long stretch from a wet sloping foothold. I didn't like it a bit. After a long pause in thoughtful contemplation, I decided to go back down. I couldn't find a chock placement, and the only rappel horn was highly questionable. After easing down a short distance, I climbed back up and then made another unsuccessful search for a better rappel anchor. I was so desperate that I thought about using a big chunk of ice. But, the ice block tumbled down past John when I tested it. I even thought about jumping. But, I ended up going back to the questionable rock horn. I eased down as the weather improved slightly. I was truly amazed that the nylon sling held around the rock horn. After I was down, John tried many times to flip the sling off the rock. But, the demons of Chimney Rock who had thwarted our feeble attempt on the East Face, savored the final insult, and kept hold of our precious nylon rappel sling.

We followed our tracks back down through the bergschrunds and then we stop to belay at "John Moat".(named after John's acrobatic exhibition.) Next we plunged down the glacier only to stop and unroped at the top of the gully. It was a bumpy glissade down through the avalanche balls. We stayed high, and traversed in the tracks of another climbing party. The route was steeper and more exposed. After climbing the snow headwall, we popped out on the top of the ridge in time to sit in the sun for the first time on the trip. We finally moseyed back down the ridge in search of the branch that marked the way to the tent site.

While we were cooking dinner, the stove ran out of fuel. So, we skated down to the neighbors camp to barter for fuel. Upon reaching their camp, we found them passing around some binoculars. They were watching the East Face of Chimney Rock, and the progress of two climbers that were repelling down in the fading light. When I look through the telescopic glass, I was encouraged to discover the route through the bergschrunds that John and I were unable to find earlier in the day. We managed to get almost a full pint of fuel before John and I went back to our camp. But, it cost us a whole chocolate bar and a hand full of lemon drops. After eating dinner, John and I decided to go for the summit tomorrow.

As I prepare the hot breakfast, bright sunlight filled the cool morning air. After eating, we packed up and follow the same route into the cirque. We felt confident that we could climb Chimney Rock and then have enough time to hike out to the car before dark. As we traverse steep snow toward the deep gully, we watched two climbers on the other side of the cirque. They were just crawling out of their bivouac sacs. John led up the avalanche chute again. But this time, we didn't rope up at the top. We traverse north, keeping low on the glacier, and then picked up the crampon tracks of the two climbers we saw below.

Just below the bergschrund, we tied into the rope at the base of the East Face. John led through on an avalanche fan without incident, and then I led to a short rock band. After I passed beneath a small waterfall, I belayed John from a stunted evergreen. John leap frogged past me, and then ascended straight-up steep snow. I continued past John and moved right around an exposed corner. The route followed a big left sloping ramp and then a smaller right sloping ramp. An exposed climb over a broken bulge led to the second big left sloping ramp. I went up and moved right into an open book. It was a trick move to get up the open book and then mossy face climbing led to a pedestal ledge. I belayed John from a thin flake, and then John led out to the right and out of sight. There was a long wait while John tried to force the route up a steep dihedral. But, when I passed John in his belay, I chose a line to the left that led to the key ledge. John and I searched around on the key ledge for a time and then I stemmed up an opened Chimney. I was soon forced to move right on to some dirty ledges. I placed a small chock in a pika hole before I move back to the left. While I made a short climb to a big ledge, the rope drag was tremendous. From the ledge, the route followed a steep arete on small holds. As I move through a delicate move, the number ten chock that I had set, popped out and made the move even more delicate. After John came up, we stash the packs at the bottom of a deep chimney that obviously had something to do with the name of the peak. It took much grunting to climb the renowned chimney. But, near the top it became easier as I stemmed up the outside edge. At the top of the chimney we unroped. I filled my helmet from a convenient snow patch before we scrambled up to the summit. While we were on top, the last of the mint cake was devoured, our names were placed in the summit register, and an expansive view was enjoyed.

The descent was made with fifteen repels on my 150 foot rope. We used the fresh nylon slings, graciously supplied by the climbers from the day before. Unluckily, the rope jammed on the thirteenth rappel, and then the last two raps were made with our headlamps turned on. As it became darker and darker, I became more and more tired. It was a long way to go in the dark, and we kept losing then finding the tracks. Finally we reach the key ledge and then continued the slow trudge back to the tent. After a small dinner, I collapsed in my sleeping bag and found instant sleep.

We're up early to welcome another beautiful day. After we ate the last of the food, we packed up and then follow the ridge back down. We picked up the cairns of the Lemah Creek route, and then follow the path down to the Cascade Crest junction. After a drink stop at the new bridge, we continued down the ridge to Chimney Creek crossing. As we made the crossing, we found the water was running higher than it was three days before. There were many more boot prints on the trail and numerous piles of horse droppings. At the Pete Lake shelter, we flushed out a large flock of nutcrackers. The lower end of the lake was deserted except for bugs and birds. As we were about to leave the lake, we heard a mysterious growling sound. We jokingly concluded that it was our empty stomachs. As I followed John out the trail, my feet soon demanded a tape stop. John waited for me and increased his latest bug swatting record before we continue down the trail. So we turned left, up the Tires Creek connecting trail, and then puffed up through the logging slash to the car. John's Chevy started right up and then we rumbled back down the Cooper Lake road. I went for a big meal at Sebastian's in Roslyn, before we headed back over Snoqualmie Pass. John dropped me on Goat Hill just in time for me to shower and get to Auburn in time for the start of second shift at Boeing. We had effectively escaped the Bicentennial.

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