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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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 ]
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| 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.
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| Jeff on the start of the "Giggle Dihedral" |
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| looking down on p5 |
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| Exposure! |
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| 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.
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| Me starting p6 (photos from Jeff McGowan) |
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| 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.
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| Me sitting on the ridge |
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| Looking down in Avalanche Lake basin |
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| 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.”
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| Jeff coming up to anchor |
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| Me on the summit of the Little Matterhorn (photo from Jeff) |
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| Jeff and Yukon Jack on top the the Little Matterhorn |
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| 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.
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| Looking back at the Little Matterhorn |
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| Bear Prints in snow |
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| Walking towards Comeau Pass |
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| Me cooling off in a runoff waterfall |
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| Water Crossing |
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| 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.
