Fisher Peak attempt December 30-31, 2001
Leaving Seattle at 6am, we had a schedule to keep to get into a base camp before dark: 3 hours of driving,
a 20 mile snowmobile ride, and then the ski in to the basin. So many things could go wrong before then:
would there be enough snow at the winter closure on highway 20 to allow snowmobiling? Would there be too
much unpacked snow to allow snowmobiling? Would mechanical problems plague sled-head Phil?
Marcus and I were in my truck, and Dave and Silas in the Dave-mobile (replete with mold and duct-tape windows,
and very "interesting" wiring problems with its brake lights and turn signals), communicating via cell-phone.
The original plan was to meet up in Newhalem, where we might all transfer to my truck depending on road conditions,
but at a gas stop in Sedro Wooley, Silas said "we'll see you when you catch up to us".
Leaving highway 20
Newhalem came and went, and there was no Dave-mobile. A while later, we arrived at the gate for the
winter closure. Also no Dave-mobile. Uh oh. We unhooked the trailer, and started driving back down highway
20. The schedule was being threatened! But a few minutes later, here comes the Dave-mobile. They had stopped
for breakfast in Marblemount!
It look a long time to pack the packs and the toboggan and figure out towing systems, but finally,
we were on our way. Our timing was perfect however, in a way I can't mention, but that resulted in a much
quicker trip in.
Nice-looking peak on the east side of highway 20.
It was a beautiful day, and the inviting slopes of Mt Hardy glistened in the sun. We headed off in the opposite
direction though. 10 feet from the road, Marcus fell and broke his pole in half. Dave and I scouted ahead
for the creek crossing, while Silas and Marcus rigged a fix with a tree branch. By the time they had caught
up to us, the tree branch fix had itself broken, and Marcus eventually "borrowed" a long sturdy branch from a tree,
and this became his ski pole for the trip, which, according to him, worked remarkably well. And was more durable
than the Leki poles.
Approaching base camp
We reached a camp below a band of trees at about 5500ft, just below a sort of headwall. Not as high as we
had hoped, but we were all tired, and the upper basin doesn't really provide much in the way of safe flat
spots. After the tents were set up, Silas set about melting snow for all of us (thanks!). Dinners were
eaten, the sun went down, the clouds moved in. Then, the clouds disipated, and the moon came up. Dave, Silas
and I took a couple of runs in the moonlight. The snow conditions were fantastic, effortless.
Repulse Mtn in the moonlight.
Our tracks and camp in the moonlight.
We left camp in the dark the next morning, at 6:30. We had heavy packs, and were all kind of slow heading
up to the climb, except for Dave, who broke trail most of the way. The snow conditions in the upper basin
were horrible for skiing, but great for walking and step-kicking. The morning had started off with some
snow flurries, but seemed to be getting better. We passed the "south crack" of Fisher - due to the time,
we had already bailed on this route choice, and anyway, it looked like it was not as straightforward as we
had hoped.
We ascended the narrowing, steepening snow gully towards the "standard" descent route, and were able to kick
steps up what we had rappelled down two years ago. At a little snow notch, we got the ropes and gear out.
It looked like it got a little more difficult higher up. Didn't look too bad though, and the snow was perfect.
Dave said the terrain was about like the north face of Chair.
Marcus and Silas approach the snow notch
I led off up and right with a very disorganized rack, and within 50 feet, encountered sugary snow on top of rock slab, and didn't feel secure
at all. I climbed back down, and Dave took over the lead, heading off left towards a huge cornice.
The cornice he climbed under was a little imposing, but all signs indicated that it would
stay put. The
snow was firmer here. However, we were already having misgivings about the time - it was approaching noon. The days
are pretty darn short now.
Dave leads up under the cornice
As I followed Dave, he was continually out of sight, winding around snow and rock ridges. A short
steep section (to 55 degrees?) led over a gentle ridge, onto an exposed traverse a couple of hundred feet
above our initial belay. Dave was a couple of rock ribs away, and I yelled to him that we were discussing
turning around. There was no quick way off this peak, we'd have to downclimb or rappel everything we
had climbed, which would be tedious.
Silas arrived up to Marcus and I, and we all felt time was running out, even though we had barely begun the climb.
Mt Repulse. Marcus claimed he could see peaks a hundred miles away here.
Marcus and Silas at our turn-around point, as snow flurries start to move in
Dave was all for continuing, and said it was mellowing out a bit. There was still a few hundred more feet - we
were just barely above the 7680ft notch south of the peak, and the summit is >8040ft, so there was between
300 and 400ft left -
and we probably could have made it and
returned to camp by nightfall. However, this would result in a second night out, and lots of worried people
back home. So, we, uh, turned around. At the time, I knew I'd regret our decision eventually, and I do.
We downclimbed a more direct route into the approach gully, arrived at our ski stash and began the descent to camp.
The snow in the upper basin was pretty heinous, and I was impressed by the shapely tracks in the snow left by
Silas and Dave. Marcus and I suffered a little more, and were slower in our descent. The snow vastly improved
to a nice soft powder surface a few hundred feet above camp.
Marcus utilizing his arboreal ski pole
Marcus on the way out
Dave explores a tree well
We left camp at around 2pm, and made it back to the road at about 4:30, after some exciting hijinks at the
second stream crossing!
Silas on thin ice... those dynafits *are* light!
And then it was time for the long ride back to the truck. 20.7 miles to be exact. In the dark. On tired
legs. After 5 miles, Silas' knees couldn't take it anymore, and he hopped on the sled with me for the rest
of ride. At a rest stop, Marcus gave me instructions on how not to nearly drag him into the guard rail on
every right turn.