This past July (the 18th–22nd, 2022), myself, my brother Karl Stum, his daughter Corrie Bahr and grandson Aaron Anderson (Natalie Anderson’s son) completed a mountaineering route in the north Cascades in Washington, called the Ptarmigan Traverse. It has been dubbed as “America’s Most Beautiful Mountaineering Route” by Outside Magazine. Our Strava-uploaded stats indicate we hiked or climbed some 45 miles and about 13,000 vertical feet.
The normal Cascade Pass trailhead was closed, so we started out actual route, some 3 miles and 1500′ vertical down from it. We hustled up that section late Sunday night. It was raining so we opted to camp inside the restroom (it was rather clean!), rather than hassle with starting out the trip with soggy tents. The rain and mist continued into the following day for four or five hours before finally quitting. We had flawless weather the rest of the trip.
The first four days were absolutely fabulous with much of our route traveling off trail (much of the “trail” was covered by snow, esp. since the winter of ’21–22 had been a big snow year). Because of the many steep snow fields, I felt that technically, it was much more difficult than the standard route on Mount Rainier, though we didn’t have the crevasse dangers found on those higher peaks.
Our fifth, or last day involved hours and hours of bushwhacking on a “trail” that is officially closed; we felt like we were in a Brazilian jungle. Had I known that the last 10–12 miles would have been so difficult, I would not have attempted the route. It just wasn’t worth it. The problem is that there are simply no early bail out options, so one cannot just take a shorter route. The Outside article must have been published many years ago, before the trail was closed. It appears that the U.S. Forest Service has simply let that section of the trail “go to the dogs,” and not make any effort to maintain it.
Kyle, a prolific blogger, did this extended route, bypassing the miserable last day (but adds another ten miles). I have recreated his route using my online software. Email for the link if you are interested.
Unless noted, all photos are copyrighted Richard Stum, 2022. Please DO NOT duplicate w/o permission.
Day 1
Cache Col headwall. It was melted out on the left side so we went up that side, but it was very steep gravel-like with no way to protect. I lead it using my Whippets to self belay in the dirt.The four of us.Camp at Kool-Aid Lake.Accumulated stats up to that point.
Day 2
Route for the Red Ledges. It was much easier than expected.Leaving the snow and gaining the “ledge.”We all unclipped and dragged the rope. No decent place to put in an anchor.Exiting the Red Ledges and back onto the snow. Ying Yang Lakes.Two brave souls take a dip.Accumulated stats up to that point.
Day 3
The snowfield above Ying Yang Lakes.All photos are copyrighted Richard Stum, 2022. Please DO NOT duplicate w/o permission.The snowfield right outside Ying Yang Lakes was low angle, so we were not roped up…so I was able to jump ahead and get this shot (do NOT duplicate).The scrambling on out of the Flat Creek drainage required a belay for most of the members of our party. It ate up a ton of time.Our actual route. At mile 25 was the difficult exposed class 4+ section. This is the route I wish we had taken, up an obvious snow couloir (possibly danger steep scree some years?). At a distance, it looked too steep, but was just the usual foreshortening. The traverse along the ridge above Flat Creek, looking down into the couloir I wished we had taken.White Rock Lakes. The descent was moderate angle so we just self-belayed most of it w/o roping up; in fact some glissaded down.White Rock Lakes campsite. The only camp where we were close to another party of climbers. Time exposure of our two tents, taken by some other climbers which we shared the location with.Accumulated stats up to that point.
Day 4
From White Rock Lakes, checking out the route for the next day. As it turned out, much of the “summer” trail was snow covered and we got off route doing some extra bushwhacking. We didn’t drop down far enough before beginning the final climb to gain the Dana Glacier.My crampons didn’t have any anti-balling plates so mid-way through, Karl cobbled together some using an old plastic bottle. Life saver for the last day or two. The right col of Spire Point doesn’t go. Proceed down the left-most col & then it is easy class 3 rock.Descending the dry side of Spire Point.Shortly after Spire Point. Steep snowfield (45+ degrees). In lean years this may be a deadly scree slope. I believe the normal route traverses off to the left in this photo and then down.Before Cub Lake, this is the last cirque that you drop through. The customary route has everyone going right through a water-covered cliff band. Dumb. Two of party took that, but two others took the route to the side through the heather and brush. MUCH safer and easier. Cirque w/o the route drawn.We camped in a meadow before Cub Lake as all it’s shores were snowpacked. Accumulated stats up to that point.
Day 5 — Final Day to the Car On paper the last day was supposed to be only 12 miles, but my GPS showed 19, due to all the meandering (& perhaps combined with errant satellite signals from traveling in a heavily forested area).
Cub LakeCircling around Cub Lake in the morning hours. Starting up & out of the basin of Cub Lake. Last climb of the trip…but I would have taken more climbing instead of bushwhacking later that day!This was an easy part of the trail…there were parts were there was downed timber, as large a diameter as a VW bug, requiring us to walk way around them. Bachelor Creek crossing. Not too hard, except the thick brush on both side of it and the trail that didn’t exist for miles on end. More bushwhacking. I captured the first four days as one trip on my GPS, but the last day was an orphan. The above stat is for the last day only.
In late 2015 my brother Karl and I hatched a plan to do a “family” Rainer trip. We choose August (of 2016) because of the typically stable weather (which it was, we had only a light breeze on the top and had sunny weather throughout). We also selected the commonly-done Disappointment Clever route as it has a less vertical gain than other routes and typically has a boot track in place, increasing the probability of success.
We allowed three days on the mountain (an extra bad-weather day), but only used two. Our group of 12 included myself, Karl, Levi (son), Rosemary (daughter), Ryan, Mark, Todd (nephews), Jonny (Rose’s friend) and several other friends of Karl. It took us about 5.25 hours to go from the car to Camp Muir. We got a few hours of sleep (some of us anyway, my sleeping pad was flat, so I got none) and then headed out at 11:00 p.m. for the summit. We left in the middle of the night as the weather was very warm so we wanted to be down off the upper mountain before the snow warmed up too much, increasing the danger of someone dropping through a soft soft-bridge and into a crevasse. It took us eight hours to summit and then four hours to get back down to Muir — and then finally about three hours to return to the car. Total climbing was a little over 9,000 feet of elevation. Here is my Strava upload of this trip.
This was my fourth trip and fourth summit success on this mountain, all with my brother Karl.
Probably the most memorable family reunion I’ll ever participate in!
The approach on day one. What a beautiful mountain.Early on day one.Levi running up the mountain!Snowfield just before Camp Muir,With a group of 12 people we had three stores going constantly to melt snow for water, because there was no open water sources at Camp Muir.Since we arrived on Thursday afternoon, the heart was basically employee so we had a pretty much to ourselves.Crossing crevasses on ladders wearing crampons was always spooky.Early on the summit day.The boat track, which is very common on the so-called dogs route.Sunrise on summit day, at about 13,000 feet.On the summit with Rose and Levi.Karl, Rose, Jonny and Levi. Descending off the mountain on a summit day.More stunning views.I could not find any traditional mountaineering boots that would work with my problem ankle, so I used running shoes (Altra Lone Peak Neo Shell) fitted with a cycling neoprene overboot. A very lightweight method that work good except for my toes got a little bit pinched due to the crampon and soft shoe.Karl’s roped team approaching Camp Muir after a successful summit bid.Are used lightweight aluminum crampons as they were the only kind that would fit over my running shoe combo.
In mid-March (2014), four of us made the ascent up to the top of Pfeifferhorn via slightly route different route than I normally do; that is up Maybird Gulch. This is an 11,000+ foot peak near Snowbird ski resort just east of Salt Lake City Utah. Here is my Strava upload. As I recall, it took us about 4.5 hours from the car to the top.
In December there was a vertical challenge at Sundance Ski Resort. The objective was to do multiple uphill (& downhill) laps on skis until you get in 10,000 ft of vertical gain. I was unable to attend, but decided to do it on my own at Brighton on Feb. 19th, 2015.
I removed the tongues and two additional buckles of from my La Sportiva Spectre boots to save weight. I took my lightest skis which are the carbon fiber G3 101 Synapse (101 mm wide x 180 cm long). I started out at 7:40 a.m. doing laps on the far east side of the resort going up near the Great Western lift (~ 1800 ft). The lifts open at 9:00 so I got a lap and half in before I started getting downhill traffic. Eventually, the ski patrol requested I relocate my efforts to the Wren Hollow run, which I did for the balance of the day. Several times through my workout I stopped at my car or the lodge to resupply food stuffs and fluids. I was only carrying a single 750 ml water bottle and a narrow waist belt. I opted to go without a backpack to save weight.
I ended up doing eight uphill climbs until I hit my goal and then finally skied back to my car for the last time. For the downhill, I specifically stayed on groomed runs so as to not wear out my quads. They actually felt a lot better than most ski races despite doing much more climbing. But, most ski races go down more technical terrain that I did on this day, which takes it toll on my quads, especially for me, as I am such a crummy downhill skier.
My total time was 8:43 with an average speed of 3.2 MPH, topping out at 32 MPH (moving time was 8:02). For the climbs I tried to keep my heart “down” to about 80-85% of my max (in a race, I push it to 90-93%). Towards the end of this effort I was only pushing about 75% due to fatigue. In the future, if I do this again, it should would be nice to have some lighter race skis (65 mm wide x 160 cm long) instead, esp. since I stayed all on easy groomed slopes.
In March, four us (Jim Knight [+ his hound dog], Mat Gover, Joey Dempster & myself) did a hike/ski ascent of Provo Peak, just east of Provo (11,044 ft). I attempted this peak some 10 years ago, but due to inadequate equipment, I could not summit. On that attempt, also with Jim Knight, I didn’t have boot or ski crampons. The summit ridge was very windblown with a firm crust. My boots gave me no purchase. Jim went to the summit without me.
This year was different. I brought both boot and ski crampons (neither of which I used). We had 6 to 8 inches of fresh snow the prior night. We started up Rock Canyon on foot and proceeded to carry our skis for a few miles before there was enough snow to ski. Later we approached the peak from a N.W. ridge, which at times was difficult for me in the new powder, as my old Scarpa Laser boots didn’t provide the flex necessary in parts and I slipped backwards at times. We finally gained the main west ridge and uphill travel was easier. The descent down was very nice, with new snow over a firm base.
This winter, after a two-year hiatus, I decided instead of doing a lot of indoor lap swimming that I would return to doing rando skiing or skimo (ski mountaineering). I participated in the two local races in February and March. I entered the regular “recreation” division, as opposed to the “elite” division. They are both ISMF-sanctioned (International Ski Mountaineering Federation).
The CROWBAR is held east of Logan. This year it appeared more people entered the elite division than the rec. It is not age-bracketed and I placed 8th out of 13th with a time of 2:15. Due to the very warm weather, the course was modified and had just under 3,000 vertical of climbing. Here’s my Strava link.
The Wasatch Powderkeg is the biggest SkiMo race in North America and is held in and out of bounds at Brighton Ski Resort in Utah. I finished 30 out of 38 (ouch!), with a time of 2:57. Here’s my Strava link for that one.
I am currently using pre-historic gear that is heavy or not race worthy. By next season, I should have more upgrades (i.e. lighter gear).
Today I went up with J.K. and skied from about the elevation of my house up to the Skyline Drive. We had bluebird weather, little wind and a short section (700 vert?) on the way down with some decent powder. We climbed some 3,800 feet and descended in about 4-1/2 hours. Because of the continuing high pressure system off in the Pacific, we had little wind, and then the snow was pretty thin in spots too.
Today I started off my the Rando ski season with a short workout on a forest service road, near my home. At the car I was met by snowmobilers going up, just as I was ready to go up as well, giving new meaning to the term “share the road.”
For many years, I have done my share of backcountry skiing. The thing that always concerns me while traveling near or above timberline is the constant threat of avalanches. I am a novice at forecasting avalanaches, yet, recently, an expert avalanche forecaster was tragically killed in a slide near Big Cottonwood Canyon, which is east of Salt Lake City. The victim was Craig Patterson, a forecaster for the Utah Department of Transportation Snow and Avalanche Program, which forecasts and controls avalanches for both Big Cottonwood Canyon and Little Cottonwood Canyon. Craig was doing fieldwork alone on Kessler Peak to check out the snow stability conditions, because avalanche slopes on Kessler Peak can threaten the highway below. My condolences to his family for their loss.
On my bucket list has always been to ski the west face of Mount Timpanogos in Utah. On May the 5th, 2011, a few guys from a local club were hiking (booting) and skiing to the top of the true summit (11,749 ft.) via Everest Ridge or the west face, as I call it. My friend Jim Knight invited me to do an alternate route the same day and ascend to the top of the East Summit via the Aspen Grove/Primose Cirque route (from the northeast side) and then descend the west face. I was worried about the descent route being too steep or icy for my limited ability, but as it turned out the maximum gradient was perhaps only 35 degrees and had many wide-open areas providing stress-free skiing. On previous trips, skiing down Primose Cirque had more challenging terrain and was frequently littered with avalanche debris. It took us about five hours to make the ascent to the southeast summit (approx. 11,722 ft.), arriving at about 11 a.m. We then descending off the windblown and crusty summit bloc and met the others at the main snowfield saddle, which sits above Emerald Lake (totally covered this year). At the saddle, I foolishly dropped a ski and it slid about 800 to 1000 feet down the wrong gully before it luckily came to a stop. I booted down to it and then rejoined the others as they descended.
Here I am, on the left, carrying my ski up to meet the others on the descent.
Our approx. descent route from the east summit.
Jim on our summit. The true summit is in the background, to the left of Jim.
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