Ice Climbing in the Coastal Mountains
Published in the Everett Herald, Everett, Feb 2001
“Icefall! …. Go flat!” My brother’s warning is accented by a yank on the climbing rope.
Pressed into the frozen waterfall, I brace myself as small chunks of debris bounce off my helmet and shoulders, tinkling like brittle glass after their impact. Then comes the dust. A second later, a whooshing sound passes somewhere over my shoulder, landing with a muffled whump! 30 feet below.
A moment later, everything is silent. My brother voice carries from the base of the frozen waterfall. “Wow, did you see the size of that puppy? Big like a toaster -- Hey! Are you sure you don’t want to come down now?”
Generally speaking, Northwest ice climbers are a patient crowd. Unlike the more frequently climbed interior Rocky Mountains, Washington’s ice-climbing season, when it arrives, is quite short. Yet when favorable conditions form in late winter, regional ice enthusiasts flock inland to places in the North Cascades where curtains of water have frozen solid along their drainages, forming beautiful, crystal tapestries of ice.
Using steel crampons and ice hammers -- tools more aptly resembling medieval implements of war than climbing equipment – enthusiasts spend hours hacking and pulling their way up these frozen curtains, often protected only by a thin umbilical cord attached to a handful of steel screws, which are themselves twisted shallowly into the frozen ice.
“But there’s definitely something addictive about it…,” says Mike Palmer, co-owner of Everett-based Cascade Crags Climbing Gym, “Something that builds your enthusiasm each time you go out.”
For the neophyte ice-enthusiast, a basic outfit includes a pair of specialized ice hammers, plastic ‘double boots,’ crampons (rigid spike plates that fasten to the bottom of your boots), ice screws and carabiners, climbing harness, rope and a helmet. The climber’s weight on waterfall ice is entirely supported by their crampons and hand axes, and that explains why the tools used for ice climbing must be much stronger and heavier than conventional mountaineering equipment.
“Yet on ice, unlike mountain and glacier travel, your personal accomplishment is measured in terms of meters, not kilometers,” says Palmer. While alpine mountaineering is more moderate in pace, even allowing the occasional low-angle intervals for relaxed contemplation, ice-climbers generally remain in a vertical position, dependent on their muscles and bones to absorb the weight of their dangling bodies. Thus, the learning of proper technique is essential.
“For sure it’s a real workout, both mentally and physically,” jokes Palmer, “I mean, ice-climbers routinely endure bruised knuckles from bashing them into the ice, fat lips and sliced cheeks from airborne ice shards, and most commonly, they must bear the exorbitant replacement cost of lost ice equipment.”
Palmer and other local climbing instructors agree that the best ice in Washington State is often formed north of Interstate 90 and east of I-5, and, when the ice conditions are ripe, they recommend local destinations such as the Icicle Canyon or Drury Falls in the Tumwater Canyon west of Leavenworth. “These two locations provide the best opportunities for variable-level waterfall ice,” says Kobey Connelly, climbing instructor for Mountain Madness Expeditions and Climbing School in Seattle. “You can frequently find beautifully formed, 200-foot vertical tapestries with suitable routes for intermediate or advanced climbers.”
Other easily accessible locations include the popular Pan Dome Falls, off Austin Pass Road at the Mount Baker Ski Area, or an unnamed 60-foot column that frequently forms in late March directly beside the west chair lift at the Alpental Ski area on Snoqualmie Pass. “The routes at the top of these ski hills are particularly appealing since they are a breeze to get to,” adds Connelly. “In fact, at Alpental, if you carry a snowboard or some other descending device, they’ll even sell you a single-use lift ticket to get you within walking distance of the ice column.”
Connelly does point out that, since the ice season in the Northwest is so short, lower ice routes may see more climber congestion when ice conditions are optimal. As an alternative, Connelly suggests a less accessible option, like glacier ice-climbing on one of our local volcanoes. “Mount Baker has some excellent, year-round alternative for this strategy,” says Connelly, “And the same can be said for Glacier Peak or Mount Rainier.”
For the aspiring intermediate-to-expert level ice-climber who has graduated from Washington ice, both Palmer and Connelly recommend an extended day or weekend trip north of the Canadian border, in the more isolated Pemberton-Lillooet area along Highway 99 in British Columbia. “Just before Lillooet, there are some unbelievably challenging routes immediately adjacent to the highway,” suggests Connelly. “And unlike our routes here at home, they’re almost always free of climbing traffic. ”
“Just don’t forget your helmet,” Connelly adds. “You never know when a toaster-size chunk of ice might have your name on it.”