Bonanza Peak - NW Buttress (Company Glacier) descent - June 22-25, 2005


Phil spraying on the NW buttress. photo Dave Coleman

Silly chestbeaters that we are, three of the four participants in this trip have personal webpages. They have written, or will write trip reports. So I suppose there's not much point in me writing one. I'll try to be brief, we'll see how that goes. Actually, I can't be brief, it's not in my nature.

We went to climb and ski the "Northwest buttess" route on Bonanza Peak, which is the highest non-volcanic peak in Washington. The highest of the famed 10 "9000ers" , and one of only a few that had not been skied. The "buttress" is not so much a buttress as a wide rolling ramp of snow and ice. The description in Cascade Alpine Guide is curious: "parties have reported this as a moderate snow and ice climb, but the original party found it steep and brutal, with avalanche danger." Pictures of the route (not easy to come by) made it look ok. There is no information available on this route, other than the terse description in CAG. That was fine with us. John Scurlock has a nice gallery dedicated to Bonanza: Here it is.

Hanging out in Lady-of-the-Lake. photo Paul Belitz

The approach to Bonanza is generally done from the village of Holden, which is a Lutheran retreat two thirds of the way up Lake Chelan. Bonanza isn't too far from the village, but the village is far from the rest of Washington. An early three and a half hour drive to Field's Point, followed by a beautiful 2 hour boat ride on the Lady-of-the-Lake ferry, takes you to the port of Lucerne (a small dock nestled on the shores of Lake Chelan). From there (1100ft), travelers are bussed 10 miles up a steep dirt road to Holden Village (3500ft).

Looking up-lake. photo Paul Belitz

Just dropped off at Lucerne, about to board the bus. photo Sky Sjue

I wasn't quite sure what to expect from this religious retreat, but I was pleasantly suprised by the welcoming, earthy feel of the town. An accepting place, very in touch with nature. I didn't feel out of place at all. We sat down to a modest vegan meal of peanut and onion soup, with fresh wheat bread, and salad with tahini dressing. The main notable aspect of the residents and visitors of this town, is that they are all so happy.

Phil, a young Sky Sjue, Dave, and Paul. photo Sky Sjue

The town was decorated with rainbow flags, as we had arrived in the middle of GBLTQ (Gay, Bisexual, Lesbian, Transgender, Queer) pride week. A number of related programs and discussions and parades were held throughout the week, but it was time for us to bear our 60 pound packs and head to the hills.

A 5 mile hike brought us to beautiful Holden Lake. Waterfalls cascade off the Mary Green Glacier, and tumble a thousand feet down to the green jungle that surrounds the water.

Holden Lake photo Sky Sjue

We skirted this green jungle and followed a climbers path through talus and heather to 6400ft Holden Pass. Snow appeared on the other side, and we moved our skis from pack to feet to enjoy a 600ft run down to the flats at the head of Sable Creek. Now we had moved into lesser-traveled terrain (Holden Pass is a popular camp spot for the route up the Mary Green, but I gather not many folks make it over to the north side of the mountain).

The clouds had now moved in, with gusty winds and occasional showers. We decided to camp here for the night, instead of making ground towards the Company Glacier. We slept around a 20ft high boulder - I found a sheltered overhang under which to place my bivy sac.

By daybreak Thursday, we were heading towards the Company Glacier. We encountered some truly awful brush (espcially devious with skis on our backs) - fortunately it was short-lived. Slippery frosty steep meadows (good for slapstick comedy) led us to a ridge-top, where we just happened to pick the right gully to drop onto the north side of the mountain. Here I found an old picket - one of only two signs of previous parties that we saw. I suppose they might have been doing a running belay down a snow gully. We had talus instead.

View from the approach. The main summit is nearly 4000ft above us, just behind the craggy area at left. The west summit, 100ft lower and our destination, is at the apex of the beautiful snow ramp that is the NW buttress (the bottom is hidden). photo Sky Sjue

600ft lower, easy talus and heather turned into steep side-hilling. My shoes are smooth underfoot and had no traction on these steep slopes. Crossing them was a chore. Occasional short bands of conifer brush tried to thwart our passage, but finally we arrived on slabs and snow at the base of the Company Glacier.

The path to adventure.

3500ft above us rose Bonanza Peak, [dramatic fluffy description] its north face a spidery precipice of rock, snow and glacier ice. This glacier must be one of the largest and most chaotic and most impressive on the east side of the Cascades range[/dramatic fluffy description]. Luckily the route to the NW buttress looked relatively straightforward.

Paul downclimbs some rock to get to the glacier. photo Sky Sjue

After down-climbing some 4th class ledges, we changed to ski boots and began climbing up snow. Once it was clear we were on the glacier, I thought it prudent to rope up. Sky and I continued to the base of the route, with Paul and Dave shortly behind. A bottleneck in an icefall proved a little tricky with my dull aluminum crampons and axe, as glacier ice surfaced here and there.

Phil looks on at the route: up the ramp and around the corner. photo Sky Sjue

We crossed a mostly-covered bergschrund and unroped. From here to the summit ridge was straightforward, methodical climbing. The conditions were truly perfect for an easy ascent - a step-kicking staircase.

Phil approaching the big bench halfway up the face. photo Sky Sjue

Sky took a break halfway up to wait for Paul and Dave. I continued on up (fueled by ginger gummy bears, but no GU), but as uncertainty presented itself in route-finding near the summit, I slowed to let Sky catch up.

Phil high on the NW buttress. photo Sky Sjue

Crossing the now rocky ridge, we saw a steep snow and ice bulge heading to the summit, 100ft higher. Sky aimed right for it, while I headed left to rocks, uncertain of the grip of my dull crampons on the ice it looked like he would face. I ditched my skis about fifty feet below the summit, and continued through some 3rd class rock, and a final 45 degree icy slope covered in rime feathers. Sky was already on top, despite having had a crampon strap come loose on the steepest (60 degree) portion of the ice bulge.

The Slope that Sky climbed/Skied. photo Sky Sjue

The view was stupendous. It had been so most of the way up, but now a brand new 180 degrees was revealed to us, including the knife-edge ridge between us and the main peak (100ft higher and 600ft away), so classically pictured in CAG.

View towards the main summit (compiled from two video captures).

Sky on the summit, with the SW peak behind him, and Glacier Peak in the background. photo Paul Belitz

Paul and Dave approached from below, while Sky and I soaked in the views, and Sky debated with himself about whether to ski the top section on rappel or not. He found a solid rock which he slung for the possible rappel. After a few minutes, he asked me to come and try to move the rock, to get a second opinion. With another person pushing on the rock, he was able to see it moving back and forth, and so this was ruled out as a trustworthy anchor.

In the end, Sky decided to ski off the summit sans rappel. Paul and I downclimbed the loose rock back to our skis, where Dave was waiting. I did not enjoy the downclimb. Exposed loose 3rd class in ski boots = unpleasant.

Phil downclimbing off the west summit. photo Paul Belitz

Sky waited a good 20 minutes for all of us to get our crap together and ski down to him. From my perch, I could see the beautiful north slopes that awaited us. Once we were down next to him, it was time to get the party started. On most of the climb so far, I had still held on to the slight nervousness of being on a high peak, far from relative safety, wondering about the way back. These feelings vanished once I clicked into my bindings. I felt at peace with the mountain, grateful that it had allowed us safe passage so far, and confident I would enjoy the ride down.

The upper slopes were firm. Very grippy, but firm. 45 degrees for 1000ft, perched above a 500ft cliff, followed by more steep slopes, cliffs and crevasses. A water bottle dropped from here would probably stop 2500ft lower. In its condition, I could be tempted to say it was a "no-fall" zone, but Dave proved me wrong.

Paul side-stepping down 50 degree rocky snow from the ridge top, while Phil finds some smooth stuff in the background. photo Sky Sjue

After the exposed turns off the ridge top, prudence and the search for softer snow led us to the ridge continuation on the left, which was lower angle and not exposed. Beautiful smooth slopes that my skis could cut several inches into, covered by a crystalline crust that shattered into thousands of tiny shards, hiding the snow surface beneath them. A swift-moving tinkling sluff of dust moving around me.

Phil coming off the ridge-top. photo Sky Sjue

...and continuing down. photo Sky Sjue

Oh this is pretty nice... photo Sky Sjue

It became clear I was having one of the best runs of my life. The snow conditions, our position on a remote majestic peak above a large glacier, a sunny day in the mountains with friends. All these factors played a part.

Sky on the upper face. Doesn't this make you want to cry with joy? photo Dave Coleman

Paul. photo Dave Coleman

We regrouped at the large bench in the middle of the route, above the final roll that led to the bergschrund. Here the snow had ripened to that perfect deep stable corn, ideal for the angle.

Dave, just above the bergschrund. photo Sky Sjue

Yes, I'm liking it. photo Sky Sjue

Dave led the way down this gorgeous slope, and stopped to take pictures of us all following. Soon, we were skiing over the bergschrund, onto the gentler slopes of the Company Glacier.

Sky going through the icefall ramp. photo Dave Coleman

The smooth gully that cut through the icefall provided one more opportunity for dramatic ski shots, and then we were launched on a traversing descent of the Company. A final choke-point exiting the glacier, then easy turns on soft snow down to our shoes, 3600ft below our summit. It was now 12 hours since we had left camp.

We rested, drank water, ate, and mosied back to camp. It took a good three hours, not helped by my ill-fated attempt to find a "better way" through the brush.

Some olives and rum were in order. photo Paul Belitz

Grandiose plans for a second big day failed to materialize. There were few other desirable ski destinations easily accessible from our not-very-advanced-basecamp. We were content to play around on the slopes in our basin. The day had a pleasant relaxed feel to it.

Sky, Phil and Dave doing some patch skiing. photo Paul Belitz

In the evening, we climbed over Holden Pass to camp. Some weather moved in, and we met a trio of climbers heading to the pass for an attempt on the main peak the next day.

Our camp for the last night. photo Sky Sjue

Late the next morning we arrived in Holden, where our packs were quickly transfered into a schoolbus, to make their way to Lucerne on the trip for the "early ferry". There was concern there wouldn't be enough room on the bus for the "late ferry", which we were taking.

We explored the town, walking around and poking into the buildings. We visited the library, the main auditorium/chapel, and the little outdoor shop (staffed by a very nice girl who - perhaps fortunately - couldn't understand our English very well).

After another good meal, we boarded the bus, and were sent off (along with the other visitors) by a sea of jubilant goodbye waves.

I made a movie. Here it is. Windows Media format, 20MB, 11 minutes long.