Wed, Jun 27, 2012
|
With: | Adam Jantz |
North Sister is one of the toughest of the major Oregon summits. Not only does it have a long approach, it has a technical summit rated class 4 or higher, depending on conditions. Rick Kent and I had tried to climb it six years earlier, but unconsolidated new snow turned us back after reaching the saddle with Middle Sister (which we climbed as consolation). Adam and I would do better on today's outing, venturing high up the mountain from the saddle, but once again turned back due to poor snow conditions.
Camped off SR126 somewhere east of Eugene, we awoke at dawn and drove to the
Obsidian TH
on the west side of North Sister where we started off just after
7a. It was a relatively late start and would prove our undoing, but as we did
not get to bed until late the night before, it could hardly be helped. Though
the trailhead was open, snow blocked vehicle access to most of it and we ended
up parking behind another party that had camped there during the night. They
started out shortly before us as we were still getting our gear
sorted and our
act together.
The trail was a mix of
snow and snow-free, an awful combination as it added a great deal of
otherwise unnecessary up and down over the snow sections. There was insufficient
snow for snowshoes which made for a lot of awkward hiking over the hard snow in
many places. It took an hour and a half of hiking through
heavy forest in these conditions before we found
clearings
and our
first view to our peak. We were beginning to believe the
climbing in Oregon
was not all we had imagined. Luckily, things improved. At first we were
following the footprints of the other party ahead of us, surprised how well
they did to keep on the correct route. I had the route in my GPS to make sure
we didn't wander off, correcting our direction every now and then when the other
party appeared to veer off. But we kept coming back to their tracks, a few
times meeting up with them. Later we learned they were using a GPS to navigate
as well.
Now completely on snow, we spent another hour hiking through a mix of open fields and forest. I was surprised to hear voices ahead and soon came upon a family of four who were camping in the dry well of a tree surrounded by snow. Their dog was barking loudly and did not allow us to approach. They had been out four days on a backpacking trip starting south of South Sister and had been caught up in several days of fresh snow. They had appreciated the nice skiing conditions as they were all on skis, but were now ready to get back to civilization and tired of the snow. They asked about the Obsidian TH we had used and whether they could follow our prints back to it. All the while the dog was barking incessantly making it hard to communicate. They apologized for the ruckus, but made no effort to quiet the dog which I found both strange and annoying. They seemed to have settled on following our tracks back, but I noted on our way back that they decided otherwise, perhaps continuing north along their originally intended route.
By 9:15a we began to get into steeper territory and here we
put on the snowshoes. I stopped first while Adam continued ahead, but after
maybe 15 minutes I caught back up with him as he was
putting his on. Here we continued
above treeline.
The
other party, a couple from Colorado we found
later, had switched to skis and were making good time up the slopes. We were not
far behind, but never did catch up. In our discussion after we got back we found
they were as surprised by our speed as we were by theirs. It was the first time
I'd seen someone on skis keep up with us on snowshoes on such steep slopes.
Like us, they were out for an extended climbing road trip.
Climbing higher, we were treated to fine views of
Mt. Washington,
Three Fingered Jack,
Mt. Jefferson, Mt. Hood, and Mt. Adams, all
lined up and extending to the northern horizon. To the east loomed
the scary
West Face of North Sister and I studied it
carefully so that I would
recognize the Bowling Alley and other features when we were close upon them.
It was 11a before we reached
the saddle between North and Middle Sisters, the
sun now softening the west-facing snow slopes. Avalanched sections of
this side of the mountain were evident everywhere and disturbing.
These were wet slides - sun-softened
snow that grows too heavy and slides off at slower speeds, but still dangerous -
getting caught in one can be akin to getting buried in wet cement. I became
discouraged about our prospects at this point and let Adam know so that he
could choose between continuing and possibly failing, or taking Middle Sister
as consolation. Adam had no reservations and was all for continuing. So
after
a short break we
started up to the South Ridge.
We used snowshoes as far as it seemed safe to do so, tackling some yet steeper
slopes before making our way to the rocky ridgeline,
partially windswept clear,
but mostly still lined with snow. By noon we had climbed as far along the ridge
proper as seemed doable, after which we needed to return to the west side to
begin a steep traverse to get around a gendarme. Here we left our snowshoes and
switched to crampons. Adam pulled a large roll of
duct tape from his
pack and began to use it to
secure his crampons to his boots.
Past experiences found his
crampons coming off at critical times and this effort was meant to keep it from
happening again. My suggestion that he might explore why they were coming
off and correct it was scoffed at in the face of his perfectly functioning
workaround.
The snow traverse turned into a bit of
mixed climbing as we
ascended higher, only to begin
a steeper traverse shortly afterwards.
We regained
the ridgeline once again around 12:40p, the
South Horn (the lower south summit) looming nearer
all the time. We found some ducks along the ridge that are probably intended to
help with route-finding after the snow has gone, leading out once again onto the
west face. At 1p we were only a few hundred yards from our goal, but not yet at
the class 4 traverse under the South Horn, leading to the Bowling Alley and the
higher middle summit. The slope to reach the traverse was terribly steep and
after
a long, hard look I turned to Adam and said, "I'm done." At
first he
didn't grasp my meaning or thought I was joking, but I explained that we had
gone as far as I was willing to go. We had started too late in the morning for
the snow conditions. Already the snow was softening alarmingly. We could
probably make it across the slope we were looking at, perhaps even the class 4
traverse beyond it, but I was afraid the snow would be worse yet on our return
hours later. It looked like a trap in the making and I wanted no part of it.
Adam seemed to have no fear of such dangers at all and wanted very much to
continue. His assessment may have been correct and we might have executed the
remaining climb without incident, but his experience on such terrain is
lacking and there was no way I could consider his bold desire to continue in
any way reassuring.
Back we went, both agreeing that it might be
easier to tackle it later in the summer without the added complexity of snow.
We retraced our steps back to
the North/Middle saddle where
we arrived just before 2:30p, picking up
our snowshoes and changing
to them along the way.
We spent the next two and half hours making
our way back to the
Obsidian TH. The snow was a little too soft for glissading,
but this didn't stop Adam
from trying.
He was partially successful on the steeper slopes, but mostly
ended up with wet pants. The on again, off again nature of following the trail
once we were in the trees was particularly annoying. We could no longer wear
snowshoes with all the open terrain, but there was so much up and down and
slipping along that went on for over hour that we found thoroughly tedious. Back
at the cars we found the other pair that had gone on to Middle Sister, summited,
and had a fine ski back down. They too had attempted North Sister a week earlier
and found conditions similar to us. Skilled as they were and still having turned
back, it made Adam feel better about our own decision today.
After packing our gear we headed east over McKenzie Pass to Bend where we took
a room for the night. While driving around looking for a BBQ place for dinner
that no longer exists, Adam noted nearby Pilot Butte as a late afternoon stop.
I thought he was joking at first but found he was perfectly serious - he would
feel much better having reached the summit of something today, even if
it was a drive up (which this was). As for myself, I'm always up for a bonus
peak, so off we went. We felt somewhat embarrassed taking the
spiraling road to the summit, passing by many of the locals on foot who use this
as their afternoon workout. The summit plaza
is made of paved brick with concrete benches,
several plaques
embedded in volcanic rock at the center along with
a 1932 benchmark.
As the highest point within Bend, the summit offers a
superb view in all directions. This small state park appears to be
very popular judging by the
numbers of people
we encountered at the summit.
After taking our required photographs, we headed back down to
find some dinner around sunset.
It was our first big day of climbing on this trip and we were both disappointed not to reach North Sister's summit, but overall the day had been a good one with fine weather and a strong effort. And we still had seven or eight days remaining. Onward!
Continued...
For more information see these SummitPost pages: North Sister
This page last updated: Tue Apr 23 12:41:18 2019
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