Swan Traverse (Smith Creek->Holland Lake)

 

Maddie on a portion of the traverse

Every good adventure starts with a seemingly good idea and some mishap. Ours started with a punishing hangover. After a freshman year style, Thursday night pub crawl, my girlfriend Maddie and I woke up and loosely threw some things together and set off to attempt a rather large objective which we had set this weekend aside for. We were planning on traversing a portion of the Swan mountains near Condon MT, something that had been a goal of ours for quite a while. The plan was to go from Smith Creek Pass and traverse the ridge crests and basins to Holland ridge trail and then down to Holland lake. To do this we opted to drop a car at Holland lake and bikes at the Rumble Creek trail, in case we wanted to bail from Holland peak. 

We left town unreasonably late in the evening and planned on meeting at Holland lake. Since I would be faster than Maddie in her stellar van I drove to the Rumble lake trail head and dropped the bikes. We met up at Holland Lake and there I realized that I forgot the running vest I was gonna use at home. Accepting that I would just use my little school backpack, we drove off in her van for about 2 miles before realizing that I left the only phone charger we had on the trip in my car back at the trailhead. A short trip back to my car had us on the road again headed for the Smith creek trailhead. It was then that Maddie realized earlier when she went into the Bonner gas station to get ice for the cooler, that she paid for ice however never actually got it from the ice box. The ice would have been used to keep the unconventional camping food items (ground beef and a half gallon of milk) we bought from spoiling. 

We made it to the next trail head in the dark and planned to cook all the ground beef we had and tried to drink as much milk as we could to get our money's worth. We were less than surprised when our propane ran out 2 minutes into cooking the ground beef we had. So instead of the pasta dish we had planned we drank milk, accepted the fate of our ground beef and ate other various things we had brought with us. I was very excited to fall asleep and forget about my day-long hangover, but I was still not surprised to wake up an hour later and learn about the family of mice that was also living in the van with us. The next hours of the night that followed were tiresome and a little brutal on morale as we were kept up by this family of stowaways, three of which unfortunately had to be destroyed. 

A couple hours after my standoff with the mice my 5 am alarm started blaring. I quickly hit snooze as Maddie didn’t budge to the sound and I also could not face the task of starting our day… At this point it was quite hard for me to envision our success on this mission as it seemed everything was going very wrong. Regardless, we started our day at an impressive 6:40 am and began moving through the sunrise up the smith creek trail. The sight of the Missions in the morning almost made me forget about the day prior.

Sunrise glow on the Missions 

Maddie blasting up the trail! 

Soon we were at Smith Creek Pass and began our way up Cooney Mountain, the first peak of the day.The views from here were great and we got a good view of the day ahead of us. We proceeded down the ridge and dropped some elevation to a saddle before we began going up again, this time up steeper, looser terrain. From the top of the next peak we could see Holland peak in the distance and the next ridgeline we had to traverse. 

Maddie scrambling up Cooney Mtn

Maddie coming down Cooney

Maddie heading up the next peak of the day

the view looking towards holland from our second peak of the day

We began descending the ridge and came down to a small basin which we traversed across to save time getting up to our next peak. A nice little scramble later and we were looking at a very cool small glacier across from us. We walked the first sort of knife edge ridge of the day and cut across the ridge just on top of the glacier. On our way up I heard the noise of moving earth and Maddie witnessed it! A massive rock fell and rode the glacier down to the bottom. From there we continued along the ridge and got to what the Caltopo map calls Albino peak. 

The cool glacier

This is where the real stuff began. The ridge ahead looked thin and exposed. The gorgeous ramp slabs that formed the ridge were intimidating yet enticing features and I could tell that this was going to take us a while. We drank water and ate food and tried to refuel before we dove into what would be the crux of the day.

Maddie on the start of the knife edge ridge 

Maddie getting Scrambly! 

We began creeping along the crest of the ridge line, I would go first and then turn around to watch Maddie as she followed behind. After slowly moving across the first portion of the ridge, with a couple little scrambles up slab in there we arrived at what I was assuming to be the technical crux of the ridge. We came to a notch in the ridge line that appeared to require a down-climb and a big step over to the other side. On either side of this notch was a fatal drop that would carry you into either the Bob Marshall wilderness or to the eastern side of the Swan range. We stopped and assessed the notch for a second and I soon determined that the move was to carefully down-climb onto a small ledge and then step over onto the other side. I began to make the spooky feeling move down to the ledge and as I did the wind blew up from the east side of the notch making the move quite exciting. 

Once I was on the ledge I was able to make a big step over and on to the other side of the notch. I waited and watched as Maddie made her way down and over. The wind still blew up the notch like a cannon as she downclimbed and stepped over to where I was. Happy to be done with that move we proceeded up the technical ridge that seemed to never let up. 

(There is other beta for the notch crux that involves climbing over the knife edge and onto the east side of the ridge and then traversing and using a ledge to walk your way over to surpass the notch. Doing this avoids the down climb but seems to be much more exposed) 

There is a recurring feeling I seem to experience while on technical alpine scrambles that I usually get when I realize just how serious a situation is. (When I get stressed out I also stop taking photos for some reason!) After we crossed the notch I began to realize that reversing our path to bail would be more risky than going on and that making it to Holland peak was pretty much the only choice. As I stood on the knife edge and looked at the terrain ahead and then turned and watched Maddie move up towards me, I started to get that feeling. Anxiety and stress began to fill my mind and I was trying my best to keep calm and solve the problem that was the ridgeline. Once Maddie reached me we kept on moving, slowly but surely we made it to the point of Holland's ridge that led directly to the summit. The top looked quite close and that was something I found I kept on telling Maddie. 

Looking up Hollands direct North Ridge

“We're almost there.” I would say.

On this part of the ridge we had to make one sketchy down climb on the wet slippery slab, but aside from that move the rest was easy going,  just very exposed. After several false summits were finally made it to the top and we were able to take a big sigh of relief. We hugged and admired the view from the Swans highest point. Holland's challenging north ridge lay behind us now and I looked back at it and followed the ridge all the way till it was out of sight behind other peaks we had been on that day. Cooney mountain was poking out in the distance and it made me think of the very eventful day(s) we had had so far. 

Maddie scrambling up the final parts of the N ridge 

Looking down at Rumble Lakes from the N ridge

Maddie making her way towards the summit, all the hard stuff in the past! 

We ate food and I mentioned the decision of having to either bail here and go down the rumble creek drainage to the bikes, or to continue onwards to Holland lake. Maddie mentioned her knees were beginning to hurt and my hips felt quite worked at this point as well. 

“Let's keep moving and decide when we get closer to where we would have to bail from” I said. 

We descended down Holland peaks much more tame south ridge and eventually made it to where we would either head for the rumble lakes or continue on. 

“Part of me wants to go down now, but I really don't want to have to do that again,” Maddie said. 

“Yea, it's just getting late and I think that if we continue on we will certainly be walking out in the dark.” 

Maddie descending Holland Peak S face

Maddie on the S ridge

We contemplated. We were feeling good physically but we had spent a lot of our time on the ridge and were facing several more hours out if we continued. 

“I think we should do it,”’ Maddie said. 

“Yea?” 

“Yea” 

“Ok then we need to start moving right now”

Looking towards our next goal of the day (another ridge!)

On that decision we started jogging down the ridge line and aimed for our next stopping point, Rubble lake, where we would refill on water. We planned on bypassing the peak above Buck creek basin to save time. We tried moving as fast as we could, side hilling our way above the Buck Creek basin. The crux of this part was moving across the loose and slippery side hill and then crossing over the very deep runnels that came off the peak above us. Eventually we made it to the saddle overlooking terrace lake. Ahead of us now was one last technical ridge scramble that was necessary to climb so we could then drop down to Rubble lake. 

From Where we were the scramble looked hard and exposed and I think that because at this point I was starting to feel a little tired, I began looking for another option. I spotted a steel looking couloir filled with dirt that we could use to bypass the ridge scrabble, however to get there we would need to do a little more sidehilling. 

I proposed this idea to Maddie and she told me that she thought we should take the ridge.

“That chute looks like it would be a super sketch to climb up. It looks muddy” she said. 

I tried to argue and say that it would be less exposed and less risky to go that way than to take the ridge scramble and then began moving down towards the saddle above Terrace lake. Finally when we got to the point where we would either take the ridge or go for the steep muddy chute Maddie stated that she did not feel comfortable climbing up the muddy chute and said she thought we should take the ridge. I sided with her choice and started moving up towards the technical ridge. 

We came across from the right side of this photo above the scary couloir in the left side of the photo

Maddie topping out the last ridge scramble! 

Looking at our descent path towards Rubble lake 

In the end her decision was probably the right one because the scrambling was a lot easier than I had thought it would be. We made decent time up the last technical ridge and began our descent to Rubble lake. 

We were able to move pretty quickly going down and for the most part avoided slipping and falling on the beargrass. Once we got to rubble lake we refilled on water and tried to refuel ourselves for the last little part before we would link onto the Holland ridge trail. We left the lake and were greeted with a lot of sidehilling. At this point we were racing the sun, trying to get as far as we could before darkness would inevitably fall and make everything more difficult. 

Maddie side-hilling the basin above Necklace Lakes

At around 7:30pm we were side-hilling our way across the basin above Woodward lake. Darkness fell quickly and we were soon traveling by headlamp towards our goal. Once we were above Necklace lakes a couloir appeared out of the darkness and we were standing right at the bottom of it. Wondering where its mouth was I looked at my map and realized that we were just 400 feet from the ridge line. I proposed to Maddie that we climb up the couloir and get onto the ridgeline to make traveling a lot easier. I figured that walking on the ridgecrest through grass would be alot easier than sidehilling the grass. We started up the couloir and eventually made it to the ridgeline. From here I looked back into the darkness and noticed a small fire light coming from one of the Necklace lakes. 

We kept moving along the ridge, and eventually made it to the Holland ridge trail. We had done it (almost). Now all we had to do was walk the last 5 miles on the trail down to the car. Before we began the final descent, we refueled and drank some water. As we were doing this, a blood red moon began to rise peering over the Bob Marshall Wilderness. Maddie, of course, got her camera out and took some long exposure photos. While she did this I took my time and looked out over the sea of darkness that was pure wilderness. Down in the distance I saw little orange glimmers of campfires and way out I saw a light I'm assuming from a headlamp. It was truly incredible to be there at this moment, every part of the day was absolutely wild and this was the first moment of the day I felt I was able to settle down and take everything in. 

A terrific photo of the blood red moon from where we linked to Holland Ridge trail

The descent was full of “Hey Bear”s and eventually me loudly singing entire Built to Spill Songs. It would be very fitting to the story for us to have run into a Grizz at the very end of our journey, however, we seemed to be the only creatures in the dark forest that night. After a knee crushing drop of 4000 som feet, we hit flat ground and were walking next to Holland lake, then finally we saw the trail head sign with a blue Subaru parked near it. 

I want to say that we made it to the car around 11:30 which made for a 16 hour day (I think?) and around 21 miles + close to 9800ft of vert. We were destroyed. My hips felt like they were torn to bits and Maddies knees were both shot. I gave Maddie a big hug and without a word we loaded into my car and headed back to the van. We got there at Midnight and after some chips and salsa (It was all we had) we swiftly passed out. 

Maddie rewarding herself with chips and salsa! 

This was a very meaningful and challenging day out in the mountains. It was exciting, long and had all the key features of a great adventure. I think now that knowing what to expect we could try to do this again and have it go a little smoother! Regardless, it was awesome to share this experience with Maddie (my favorite mountain partner)  and tick off an objective that we had been dreaming about doing together for a year.

*route beta* I personally found the N ridge of Holland to be quite tough and very committing, perhaps I chose our route poorly, but it sure felt like some parts of this were low 5th class scrambling especially on the upper N ridge towards the summit. However aside from the daunting notch crux, the real crux was the exposure on this thing. Pretty much DFU zone the entire way and would be a bad place to get caught in a storm. I also think that it would be a better move to climb back up to the ridge crest after getting water at Rubble lake to avoid the slow process of side-hilling through the basins afterwards. I Definitely recommend this outing to anyone interested in the Swans as you get to really explore this part of the range!

The Awakening Wall (Sawed Off Heads Variation)

 It was on my first multi pitch trad route 2 years ago that I found myself in the presence of this great wall. Not on the actual route, but on a smaller, more simple feature just in front of it. My partner Brendan was guiding me up No Sweat Arete on a cold day in October. I was new to multi pitch climbing and very new to trad. I couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity and slight fear when I gazed at the massive wall looming over us. Hanging off the anchor Brendan had built, I belayed him up the route, all while wondering about the giant wall just right next to us. When I climbed up to the next anchor and, out of fear, turned down the opportunity to lead the very easy last pitch on the route, I asked Brendan about the wall next to us. “Oh yeah that's the Awakening Wall” he told me. “Damn that looks wild” I probably responded with, as this was two years ago. We topped out the route and I took one last good look at the giant wall before beginning the walk off back to the creek. 

The Awakening wall 

  

Two years later I found myself again in the presence of this beast, but this time not to climb No Sweat Arete. This time it was to greet the beast, and ride it all the way to the top. I had been talking about trying this route for a while this summer until one of my co-workers at the UM outdoors programs, Livi, proposed we climb it on the coming weekend. Livi is perhaps one of the strongest and most competent climbers I know in Missoula, so when she proposed we climb it I jumped on the opportunity. Her and I drove out to Mill creek that morning with every piece of gear I own and marched to the base of the wall. I explained that I was still breaking into the 5.10 grade and she told me that this was a great route to do so. The route itself is 10 pitches and goes at 5.10+, however there is a variation to the Awakening Wall proper called the “Sawed Off Heads Variation,” which avoids the crux pitch of the proper route. The variation has two pitches of 5.10 and then links up with the rest of the route making it 8 or 9 pitches depending if you link the last 2. Livi had climbed it the previous spring and she knew what to expect. I, on the other hand, was quite anxious. There was one feature in particular that had me awake the night before thinking about it. The previous week, on a reconnaissance, I spotted what appeared to be a massive roof on what looked to be the 3rd or 4th pitch of the sawed off heads variation. It looked quite wide and the rock below it looked featureless. I laid awake imagining trying to climb that feature, and having to bail off of it or having to ascend the rope because I simply couldn't climb it. 

Looking up the beast 

We discussed that we would swap leads and that I would lead evens and Livi would lead odds. She racked up and set off on the 1st pitch. Like almost all the routes in Mill Creek, the lower pitches are usually R rated and either can't be protected, or follow loose choss to better rock. We had a hiccup on our route finding skills which led to Livi down climbing a little ways and then getting on the easier looking terrain to the left of us. She cruised up the choss and quickly after, I was being belayed up. 

Livi on P1

From the top of p1 you either punch it straight up to continue the direct route, or you veer off right to the variation. I racked up and then climbed off over very easy but dirty terrain. Soon I was at the next anchor, looking up at the Sawed Off Heads dihedral. I belayed Livi over to me and she quickly racked up and began up the first pitch of the variation. This pitch from the bottom looked quite fun but as I looked up it I realized that the big roof I dreamed about was not too far ahead. In fact it looked as if it were on the next pitch up, the one I would be leading. 

Livi on p3

She quickly made it to the anchors and started belaying me up. The climbing was good. Really good. On top of the bomber crack climbing, all over the dihedral were little face holds, and small ledges that worked great as foot holds. Before I knew it I was at the anchor staring up at the roof looking down on us. 

“Do you remember this roof being hard?” I asked livi 

“Yea it was a little tricky,” she said. “But I also had a backpack on, so it might have seemed harder.” 

“Cool.” I nervously said

“You got this.” 

I racked up and unclipped my personal from the anchor, ready to set off and face whatever this pitch threw at me. I was feeling calm and the quality of the first pitch had me excited for more. Right off the anchor I placed a piece and then committed to what felt like a boulder problem to get into the main dihedral crack system. Some excellent crack climbing led me just to right below the roof. I, out of intimidation of tackling the roof, placed a #4 and did not extend it. I just clipped it right to the cam, which I will never do again. I then placed a #3 and also clipped it right to the cam. After placing more than enough pro in this thing I took a step up and began my traverse under the roof. 

“Yea Nate!” I heard Livi yell from below me 

I was grabbing the edge of the crack under the roof and walking my feet along a very good edge that ran below it. It felt incredible and I realized that this roof problem wasn't as hard as it looked, just an all around great feature of the pitch. In my head I was imagining I looked like Cedar Wright leading that wild roof in Yosemite, however I’m sure it was not quite that awesome. 

Cedar Wright climbing the Gravity Ceiling 5.13a in Yosemite photo by Jimmy Chin

I pulled around the roof into an offwidth dihedral and was really wishing I had put an extended double length on those cams but then was really wishing that I hadn’t placed that #4 at all. Looking up at the off width dihedral ahead I realized I had no gear to place. Looking around, it appeared that my next option was 15 feet up in an alcove just below the anchor. 

“Ah fuck” I wispered to myself. 

Trying not to think of the whip I took leading an offwidth pitch in Utah a year prior, I tried to calm myself and look for a way up. 

“C’mon Nate, you can do this” I kept telling myself. 

As I slowly moved up the rope tried its hardest to pull me back down. 

“Why the fuck didnt I extend those” 

Resisting the rope-drag and trying my hardest to pull it up with me, I inched up the oddwidth, using the array of face holds, and small edges on the other side of the dihedral. Finally I made it to the alcove and placed a cam avoiding a 40 foot fall and swing into the rock face below me. I then made the final couple of moves and was clipped into the anchors. 

“Livi off belay!” I screamed down to her. 

“You're Off!” 

Looking down from the anchor

I started trying to haul the rope up but the rope drag was too much for me to pull without it getting yanked back down every time I pulled. I had to instead redirect my rope through a micro trax that I clipped to the anchor and haul it up that way. After a very long rope haul I finally heard Livi yell up from below me. 

“Nate, that's me!”

I put her on belay and yelled back down to her. It did not take Livi long to climb this pitch, and before I knew it she was at the hanging belay with me racking gear for the next pitch. 

“Nice work” I told her. “You flew up that!” 

“Thanks, yea nice lead.” 

Climbing with Livi is fast and efficient, which I liked. I realized that when I climb with others we spend a lot of time at anchors talking about the pitch and various other things, which is not a bad thing however it does eat up a lot of time. 

Livi started the 5th pitch, which started with a wild looking move up a wide crack to a big ledge. I watched her do these first moves and then she was out of sight. I was now just hanging in space watching rope flow through my grigri. This was definitely the most “hanging belay” I had ever been on and after a while the exposure started to make me feel uneasy. I was hanging there too for what felt like a very long time which was strange because I figured that she would cruise to the next anchors. 

Hanging belay

The rope stopped flowing for a while and then began rapidly flowing through my grigri. I was waiting to hear her yell down that she was off belay, but heard nothing so I just kept feeding her slack. Once It was at the very end of the rope I said fuck it an took her off belay, assiming that she was at the next anchors. I screamed up to her,

“That's me!” 

I heard nothing in response, so I waited for a little bit before disassembling the anchor and beginning to climb.

“Climbing!” I screamed up.

I started to head up and was greeted with a rather challenging first move. I had to pretty much lie-back on this wide crack and walk myself up by stemming my feet out to the just next to the crack. This tough move was over pretty quick and I found myself on easier terrain for a little bit until I came to a section of very loose chossy blocks. The climbing here was quite delicate and a couple times I was standing on blocks that I was not too sure about trusting. It reminded me of climbing in Glacier. I came around the loose blocks and saw Livi standing on a nice belay ledge at the anchor. 

“Jeez that was a strange pitch” I said to her. 

“I know right, that part was so loose.” 

Once I got to the anchor we looked at the route topo and determined that we were just below the 7th pitch, the one that starts with the “mondo flake”. However for us, this was the start of our 6th pitch because we took the Sawed off Heads Variation. This pitch starts with a really cool looking flake that has a bolt towards the top of it. I racked up and began up this flake, using the edge of the flake to pull on and my feet and leg to wedge myself in there. Slowly I inched up towards the bot and clipped to it an extended single length draw. From here I climbed up a little more and then followed a bolt line out left. The climbing at this point had turned to face climbing and was quite fun! It wasn't until I got about 10 feet above the last bolt I started to feel a little nervous. I looked around for options and saw a very thin seam that went straight up to what looked like the next belay ledge. I saw several edges I could use and just slightly further up I saw some small looking pods for places I could put gear in. I was nervous to go any higher and began to get in my head about how far above the bolt I was. 

“Just make a move,” I said to myself.

I took a step up and found good feet and a good small edge to grab. After a couple more moves I realized I was significantly far above the last bolt and was reminded of being on a different route in Mill Creek a year earlier called Chicken and Doughnuts where I first felt what it was like to be truly run out. Using one of the pods in the thin seam I held myself up while trying to find a small piece to put into the pod just a little higher up. I found a Metolius 2 that I was able to jam in just enough to give me the confidence to continue. After placing this it was one move after the other. I was dancing my way up using the great crimps and ledges along the way until I came over the edge and saw the bolted anchors.

“Good god,” I said as I crawled over the edge with sweat dripping into my eyes. 

Looking at the standard top out of No Sweat Arete from the bleay ledge

I built my anchor, yelled down to Livi and put her on belay. She was quickly on the belay ledge racking up to lead the next pitch. The next pitch started up onto a small ledge and then up a small seam that led to a flake feature which you could stand on. II watched as she made the first tricky looking moves up and onto the flake that seemed even tricker to protect. From there she started making her way up and right till she was out of sight. Soon the rope stopped flowing and I heard her yell down to me letting me know I could take her off belay. 

Livi leading up the p8

I was excited to be close to done as by this point my arms had begun cramping whenever I would pull too hard on something. This was probably because I had eaten relatively no food on this climb and certainly had not drunk enough water. It was also, at this point, close to 2pm and the sun was relentless on the south facing wall we were on. 

“Nate you're on bleay!” 

I started up the thin seam trying my best not to pull too hard on any move and have my arms cramp up. This climbing was quite hard, but I found it very fun! I pulled a tricky couple of moves to get on top of the small flake, which ended up being not the best ledge to stand on and then continued following the interesting climbing up sort of blocky terrain, and onto the next belay ledge. I looked up at the next pitch, which was mine to lead. It was a flat face with several cracks like lightning bolts that struck up the face. The cracks looked like hand cracks and all led to a couple of small roofs with smaller looking cracks above it. It looked hard.

“Jeez” I said 

“This looks hard.” 

Knowing I was quite worked physically and pretty worked mentally, I had my doubts about being able to confidently lead this last pitch and take us to the top. I looked at Livi and asked her, 

“Would you want to lead this?” 

She looked up at it and then said, 

“I would be psyched to lead this.” 

She racked up and began up the final pitch. She made her way up the lower hand cracks and placed a couple pieces before coming to the first roof. Stopping there she placed another piece and pulled the roof into the thin looking cracks and progressed up thin cracks towards the next crux roof. 

Livi negotiating p9

“Nice work Livi” I said to her as she pulled some tedious moves and was then right in the roof looking for a way over. 

“C’mon Livi” 

She placed a piece above the roof, reached high up and then with some good footwork and a hard pull she was over the crux roof. 

“Yea Livi, nice work!” 

“That was so fun!” She responded with. 

From there she kept moving up and then was out of sight. During this time I really took in the views from where I was. The top out of No Sweat Arete was far below us now and I couldn't help but reminisce about the first time I climbed that with Brendan. I thought I was on top of the world. Soon I heard a faint shout down to me, so I took her off belay and waited for the rope to pull tight on me. 

“Climbing!” I screamed up to Livi. 

This was it, the final pitch. I stared up the more mellow climbing lower on the face and followed up a nice hand crack for a ways until the first roof. This one was tricky to pull but not impossible. I found a good finger crack and some good foot placements and pulled myself over. This is where it got tricky. The cracks thinned and the edges for feet disappeared. I was using the thin finger cracks as foot holds to move upwards and after retrieving a few pieces she had placed I was at the crux roof. I retrieved the piece she had placed above the roof and started finding a solution. The feet were hard to find and the finger cracks were tough to work with. I reached really high and wedged my fingers in the seam above me. I then pulled on that seam and moved my feet slightly higher while looking around for the place I had seen Livi put her feet. I found a very good enough place and gave it all my trust, stepping up on it and pulling myself over the roof. Here I felt very insecure and kept on moving as fast as I could to get to a better stance. I pulled another piece out of the wall and followed the cracks to the arete where I found a great edge to pull on, allowing me to step around the arete and onto a small ledge. Once at the rest I looked up and was breath taken by the exposure.

exposure 

“Oh my god” I said to myself.

The "Proper top out of No Sweat" 

Below me was 1000 feet of vertical wall leading into a chute that separated No Sweat Arete from the rest of the wall. I could see the haze of the smoke faintly in the air making the scene much more dramatic. After carefully taking a photo or two I moved on and up the easier climbing to the final ledge and crack that led to the top out. Pulling over the edge I felt very glad to be off the route, and back on the ground. 

“Nice work Livi,” I said as I came up to the anchor.

“That pitch was insane, a really good lead.” 

“Thanks,” she said “That was really fun.”

“I'm very happy you led that,” I said. “I would have broken down if I had to lead that.” 

“Yea I’m glad I got to!” 

From here we packed up our stuff and walked down the canyon ridge back to the creek. We made it to the car around 4? (If my memory serves me right) So it was a lot packed into a relatively short day! I’m very excited I got to get on this route as it holds a classic status for the area and I would highly recommend for anyone into long rock routes to check this thing out. 

Thanks to Livi for climbing that day and for taking the last lead! And thanks to the FA party for envisioning this route!

Wheres Jack? (Glacier National Park)

 

For several weeks this summer one of my climbing partners, Jeff, had been suggesting that we head up to Glacier to try and climb a newer and seldom traveled rock route in the park. This route, “Where's Jack?” climbs up the south west face of the Little Matterhorn in the very back of Snyder Basin and offers 7 pitches of up to 5.8 climbing on relatively good rock for the area. It was put up in 2019, and since then has likely only seen several ascents per year. There is a lot more information about the history of the route and the man who envisioned it, the late Jack Beard, on the routes mtn project page.

 If you are a climber in northwestern Montana you know that many people are not drawn to climb in Glacier National park because of infamously loose rock, and if you have climbed or explored in Glacier, then you know first hand just how bad the rock actually is. The beautiful and breathtaking mountains in Glacier are pretty much just piles of loose blocky rocks that crumble and move upon touching them. On top of the horrific rock quality, Glacier is also known for rather long approaches that involve some sort of treacherous bushwhacking and make for very long days out. All that being said, for the climber that enjoys a good adventure and is willing to do a little walking, Glacier is the perfect place to spend long complicated days out in the mountains. This is exactly what we signed up for when we started our drive from Missoula up to the park, with intentions of climbing Where's Jack. 

Aprox route 

Jeff and I left town on the evening of July 9th and drove towards the west entrance of Glacier National Park. We got to West Glacier at around 9:30 that night and found a nice spot to sleep just outside the park. Before we began our attempts at sleep we agreed that 2 am was the best time to wake up, and should have us walking up the trail at around 3. This was a decision made based on the beta that “some parties have taken up to 20 hours” car to car. So because Jeff and I both had to work on Thursday morning, we decided a nice alpine start was a wise decision. One beer and a few sips of Yukon Jack later, we were in our sleeping setups on the ground near the car where we first encountered the main crux of the entire expedition, mosquitos. It's hard to emphasize the truly terrific amount of noise that mosquitoes can produce in a quiet setting. Sleep at first was impossible, and instead was a game of mitigating the heat in my bivy sack, and trying not to let the bugs get in there with me. This game went on for what felt like hours until the sun finally set, relieving most of the mosquitos from their duties for the evening. I was at last able to catch 2 hours of sleep before the alarms interrupted the silence in the quiet forest. It was time to start the day. 

We quickly did some last minute packing before driving into the park and both had our fill of canned caffeine to get us up the 5 or so mile approach. We parked at the McDonald lake lodge and set off at around 3. Conversing our way up the trail, we made pretty good time thanks to the high quality trails in the park and got to lower Snyder Lake just before sunrise. The trail ended here and we proceeded to follow the rocky shore around the right side of the lake and to the waterfall/drainage that was coming from upper Snyder. Jeff took a moment to fix his shoelace that had cut and I took in the fresh morning air that would soon adobe the masses of mosquitos. Once Jeff rigged his shoelace we proceeded to move, and made our way over the stream via a log, and followed the left side of the falls/drainage up easy terrain to upper Snyder Lake. The scenery here was incredible and we were finally faced with our day's objective. Standing at the far end of upper Snyder and looking up at the mountain I felt incredibly intimidated. It felt like my caffeine buzz wore away as soon as I looked at it and I was suddenly feeling much more humble in its presence. Its big, impassable seeming, stoic face looked down on us making me feel smaller than ever. Yet, we continued to move towards it.

Snyder basin from below the route 

Wandering through the upper basin was quite easy as there were no logs or really any bushwhacking other than through some willows which seemed like the perfect hiding place for bears, although we did not encounter or see any in this area. The only creatures that proved to be problematic to us at this point were the mosquitos. We kept on swatting and smacking  our way towards the lower scrambly section of the mountain and stopped for a moment to scope out the goat trail that technical climbing starts from. Looking for the goat trail made me feel a little more confident because when looking at the starting point from the bottom, it appears that it is more than a third of the way up the face. So we kept scrambling and picking what appeared to be the easiest ways up towards the grassy ledge with bigger trees on it. I found that there were several parts of this lower section that felt like 5th class scrambling, with some 5.0 or so moves that made the lower section very enjoyable. However I’m sure there are easier ways to go, and probably more efficient ways too. Regardless, we got from the car to the start of the climb in around 4 in a half hours, and after being greeted by a curious mountain goat and finding the distinct flare followed by what looked like a hand crack, we decided that this must be the start.

Goat that greeted us 

We had decided that Jeff would lead odds and I would lead evens, so we built a belay and Jeff set off first, working his way up the first pitch. At this point I was still feeling quite intimidated and was pretty anxious about how the climb was going to go. What was really on my mind was how committed we were to getting to the top. This is not a route that seemed like it would be easy, or wise to bail off of. Down climbing the lower scrambly section would be very tedious and rapping from any point on the climb with just a 70m rope would require us to leave a lot of gear behind. So as Jeff worked his way up I realized just how committed we were to pushing to the top. As I was nervously thinking about this I looked up to see Jeff go for a move when he shouted and fell from the hand crack, his fall being protected by a very well placed #2.

 “Fuck dude, are you ok?” I asked him. “Yea” he said. “Are you ok?” he asked me back. “Yea, I’m good” I could feel how scared I felt in my voice. “What happened?” I asked him. “I don't know, I just slipped.” “Damn dude, nice work on that placement.” 

After our short nervous conversation, Jeff saddled back up and hopped in the crack, this time elegantly moving his way up it. Soon he was out of sight and I kept on feeding him slack as he moved higher up the mountain. A few minutes passed before I heard a faint but loud shout, “Nate off belay!” I then shouted back “You're off!” I quickly put my shoes on, and got myself ready to embark up the technical portion of the climb. 

I found the first pitch to be very enjoyable but a little awkward. The hand crack was bomber but to jam it you almost had to be bent over because it was not totally vertical, which made for fun but awkward climbing. From there the technicality eased off, and it was easy going to the belay ledge. “Nice work dude” I told Jeff when I got to the anchor. Once there we moved the anchor out right to just below the obvious chimney on the second pitch. Now it was my lead. I was feeling nervous as I racked up and kept telling myself to turn my brain off and just climb. I taped my hands up and let out a nervous “alrighty”. “I'll see you up there,”  Jeff said back to me.

I unclipped my personal from the anchor, and began making my way towards the chimney. Right as I started to climb my nerves began to feel at ease and I cruised my way to the chimney. I found a good place for gear and did the first hand jam embarking into the 20 or so foot feature. After the first initial hand crack it thinned out into a finger crack and I was able to wedge my feet below me to help me crank on fingers reaching high up onto a ledge in the chimney. Finding gear in the chimney was tough. It was wide enough to wedge my body in, but was very deep, and the cracks in the back of the chimney were extremely crumbly and dirty. For a second here I began to feel myself start to get nervous and my leg start to get shaky, so I really wedged my body in there so that I was secure enough to move one hand freely to investigate a place for gear. I found a place in the back of the chimney that seemed super good enough and I flung a medium sized stopper in there and yarded on it with an alpine draw. It seemed snug and was just what I needed mentally to continue up the chimney, so I extended the draw and began crawling and wedging my way up towards the top out. 

[Photo of me in chimney ]

Me climbing the p2 chimney (photo by Jeff McGowan)

I found that working up the chimney was difficult because of the bag I was wearing, it kept getting caught on the walls and made it hard to move upwards efficiently. It was however one of my favorite pitches of this climb and had me feeling psyched at the end of the pitch. The upper part of this pitch was cruiser and I made it to the big grassy ledge where I built an anchor and belayed Jeff up. 

“Nice work man” he said as he got to the anchor. “Your nut in the chimney was really good, I had to get acrobatic to get it out.” 

“I'm glad you were able to get it out,” I said. 

The next pitch was what the beta called “The giggle dihedral” 5.7. This was Jeff's pitch and to us felt to be the hardest pitch of the route. It started with a sort of funky little traverse on subpar rock and followed a fist sized dihedral that led to a small roof and then on to easier climbing. We moved the belay slightly to the right and then Jeff embarked. As he got to the dihedral I noticed a few times that he had stopped climbing to look for gear, found nothing and moved on. By the time he had gotten to the small roof, he had stopped and was quite high above his last piece. 

Jeff on the start of the "Giggle Dihedral"

Jeff braving the runout roof pull 

“I'm with ya” I would say to him. “You're doing good man!” I could tell he was looking for a place to put gear and it seemed to not be going all too well. 

“Are you able to get to the crack in the roof?” I yelled up. “I just need to focus right now” he replied back. “Sorry dude.” “You're good.” 

After I said that, he reached far below him and placed a #3, giving it a good yank and then clipping the draw to the rope. “Nice work dude!” I yelled up to him. Once he got that piece in he charged through the roof section pulling up onto the easier climbing. 

“Yea dude, nice job man!” I yelled. “I would have been giggling alot more if I had a #4. '' he said. In the updated beta for the route it says “skipping the 4 is unadvisable.” We brought doubles in everything up to 3’s and had no 4’s, which on this pitch would have been very useful to have. Jeff, like a beast, persevered and topped out just below the 4th pitch, where he built an anchor and belayed me up.

Jeff above the roof 

Following this pitch was nice on TR and let me say that having a 4 would have been very nice for the leader. The climbing though was still extremely fun and engaging, and the move getting into the roof and pulling trough the roof felt to be the crux of the climb to me. This pitch we both agreed was the favorite of the day and had us both pretty excited for the rest of the climb. “Dude you're a savage” I said to him as I approached the belay. “You should be proud of that lead”. “Thanks man.” he said back “That was a good pitch.” 

Here we drank water and went over the route beta. After seeing that the next pitch was around 250 ft of easier climbing, we decided to simul climb it. I had never simul climbed before so this was a good introduction to it and I learned just how useful of a tactic it is. “Just make sure that we have two pieces of gear between us,” Jeff told me. So I racked up, and he kiwi coiled part of the rope around him and put me on belay. “Sweet man you're locked and good to go!” I set off into the immediate 5.6 chimney, and found a good place for a stopper. I stemmed my way up the chimney, and found myself on the 5th class scrambly slopes. Every now and then I found a good place for gear and extended all my draws to try and keep rope drag down. As I kept moving I noticed the rope drag becoming worse until it wouldn't move at all. I figured Jeff was following and working on getting a piece out. As the tension eased up I kept moving over towards the grassy ledge with some trees on it and I spotted a tree with a pink piece of flagging and aimed for it. Now I’m thinking that I went too high, because I came level with the tree but had to do a delicate traverse over about 15 feet of loose flaky slab. Once past the traverse I was happy to get to the tree and build and anchor off of it. 

“Jeff, I got you on belay!” I yelled down to him. 

Once we were both at the anchor we re racked and moved the belay more to our right to begin the 5th traverse pitch. This pitch was supposed to be the crux traverse pitch, so we read the beta again and then Jeff quested off into the void of the wall. I watched as he carefully moved and worked his way out right, every now and then stopping to place a piece of gear. I was expecting Jeff to take his time on this pitch and was preparing for it to take a long time to complete. However he moved super efficiently and quickly through this pitch, and before I knew it he was out of sight and sound. 

[photo of Jeff on p5] 

The only form of communication we had then was the rope between us flowing like a stream through my belay device. This pitch seemed long, the rope kept moving past the halfway point and then suddenly stopped. I started to get my things together and put my shoes on, all while waiting to hear him yell “Off belay!” But I heard nothing. I kept waiting to hear something and still nothing. Then the rope started moving so I kept feeding it through my grigri thinking that maybe he was climbing. I fed it through all the way to the end and then I finally figured that he was clipped in through an anchor and was working on getting me on belay. “Ah shit” I said, and I took him off belay, put my pack on and disassembled the anchor. When the rope was tight on me, I screamed “Climbing!” and ventured off towards his first piece. This pitch was incredible. It was long, airy and exposed. The moves in the start of the pitch were super fun and flowed well. They were followed immediately by a technical chimney that made you feel the air below your feet, and led you to a nice ledge with easier climbing to the belay. 

looking down on p5 

Exposure! 

Following up p5 

I climbed up to the anchor, clipped myself in and started racking up for the next pitch. We were getting close. Jeff showed me the route topo again and then I took off, headed out left and looked for a dihedral hand crack that would lead up to the ridge line just below the last pitch. 

Me  starting p6 (photos from Jeff McGowan)

Me moving towards the dihedral 

After some fun traversing I found myself under the dihedral and punched it upwards placing good gear as I went. This pitch was very fun and was much easier than the previous pitches. It had good gear on good rock with excellent moves and led me right to the ridge line. Once I peaked my head over the ridge all the angst I was feeling that day fled and I was filled with an overwhelming sense of joy and excitement. Getting to the ridge revealed Avalanche lake way down below as well as the surrounding mountains. Waterfalls poured down into the basin from above and Bearhat mountain stood proudly next to us  along with Mount Cannon and Reynolds in the distance. It was truly wild. 

Me sitting on the ridge 

Looking down in Avalanche Lake basin 

looking down p6 dihedral 

At the ridge line I built an anchor right below the very obvious lightning bolt crack, and belayed Jeff up. “Nice work dude,” he said as he got closer. “Just wait till you get up here man,” I said to him. “When we're 8 miles in on our walk back to the car, I’m going to think about this view and it'll all be worth it.” Jeff got to the belay and gave his appreciation for it as well. “Alright man, this is it!” I said to him, “Yea dude almost done.” 

Jeff coming up to anchor 

Jeff getting ready to blast up final pitch 

Jeff racked up and started his way up the lightning bolt crack. “Watch out man, it's pretty chossy up here!” He said down to me. I stepped out to my left as small rocks fell down towards me, hit the ledge and showered down the side of the mountain we had just climbed up. He carefully moved through the choss and was once again out of sight.

Jeff on the lightning bolt crack

I really took in everything about the day so far as I was belaying him up. To me this belay was a place of solace. I stood still, locked into a bomber anchor, secure and comfortable, not moving as everything moved around me. It was the last moment of stillness. The last and first bit of calm I would have for the rest of the day, because once to the summit we would just have to begin our long descent back to the car. To me this was the First moment of true peace I had felt all day. 

“Nate you're on belay!” Jeff screamed down to me. This was it, the final piece to the summit. I climbed up the lightning bolt crack, trying to avoid knocking big rocks down off the choss pile that I mantled on top of. Once above the lightning bolt crack I walked the rest of the ridge line to the Anchor Jeff had built. We laughed and I gave him a fist bump. “Nice fuckin work today man.” I said to him, “That was a wild climb.” “Likewise man.” He said back to me. It was over now, all the climbing behind us, all we had left to do was down climb the standard route and walk the 9 or so miles over Comeau pass down into Sperry Basin, below mount Edwards and back to the car. 

“You know what we need to do?” Jeff asked me. “What's that…. Oh. Yea I know.” Jeff pulled a nearly drank bottle of Yukon Jack out of his bag and handed it to me. “Cheers man” I said, and took a swig. “Now all we have to do is walk out,” I said. Jeff took a swig and we both took another, then packed our things and began our long descent back home. 

Me on the summit of the Little Matterhorn (photo from Jeff) 

Jeff and Yukon Jack on top the the Little Matterhorn

Jeff with the standard route behind him

It's hard to unravel this day into just one small write up without going overboard because the day was so much more than just the climb. The walk into Snyder and approach was its own part followed by a climb and a long walk out. The walk out could itself be its own write up. The walk to Comeau pass and descent into Sperry was stunning the entire way. The scenery was unworldly, especially up to Comeau pass. The red looking rock and beaming white snow made it seem like we were not on earth, and the walk out was filled with pieces of adventure from Bear prints in the snow, glissading, showering in waterfalls and barefoot creek crossings as well as mountain goats. Lots of mountain goats. The upper Sperry basin walk felt like walking through a magical alpine spring wonderland, with blue alpine lakes and waterfalls everywhere it all felt like a dream. 

Looking back at the Little Matterhorn

Bear Prints in snow 

Walking towards Comeau Pass 

Me cooling off in a runoff waterfall 

Water Crossing 

Negotiating with the locals 

It's hard to sum up just how incredible this day was in a small write up. Climbing this route was truly amazing and had every good feature of a true adventure. For the pure adventurous climber, this objective awaits and I highly recommend taking it on. 

A very big thanks goes to the first ascent party for putting this rig up and sharing the beta, as well as a big thanks to Jack Beard who envisioned this climb in the first place. This was truly one of the best days I have had in the mountains so far! We got back to the car at around 9:30 (I think) and our day was close to 18.5 hours.