We arrived at the North Fork Sauk Trailhead around 5pm on Friday, we being Ben, Adreea, and myself. I was third-wheeling with the two recent exes, which simultaneously put me in a position of odd-man-out and the glue holding the social dynamic together. We weighed our packs before we left and measured Ben’s at 70lbs, Andreea’s at 40lbs, and mine at 30lbs. To say I was pleased with myself was an understatement, as I’d been working on dialing my multi-day kit for years, and it felt like it finally paid off. Then it dawned on me that I couldn’t complain at all for the next three days, so I quickly decided that pack weight should be personal information only.
We set off, and I fell into a slow-but-steady pace. Our goal was to get to White Pass and camp briefly for the night, and since it would certainly get dark before we’d arrive, I was in no rush to tire myself out this early. True to style, Ben and Andreea blasted ahead, and we would meet up for the occasional creek crossing. Before long, the climb started and we worked our way into the alpine as the sun set on the increasingly snowy peaks around us.
We set up at white pass after a long and dark sidehill across the still-present snow slopes. The pass itself was a major wind tunnel, so we dropped a hundred feet or so below the ridge and tried to quickly settle in to claim our 3 hours of sleep.
When the sun rose, we were already on our way past the pass, booting initially in the firm snow before finding an already-soft patch of corn to ski before returning to booting. This boot-ski-boot routine continued for most of the morning. All morning we weighed the benefits of booting vs skinning and which was faster or easier. I don’t think it made much of a difference either way.
Eventually we climbed over a ridge that granted us the first clear view of our objective, and man, did it look far away. It looked further away than the views of the other volcanoes you get from the car. I had serious doubts whether we’d make it or not, but either way it was going to be a huge day. Back to boot/skin/boot…
Eventually we made our way to Glacier Gap after finding an excellent source of clean water from the glacier and drinking our fill. The surrounding peaks had so much snow on them, and almost as far as the eye could see was covered in snow. It was incredible to be in such a remote and inaccessible place, and better yet with skis on our feet!
We crossed a rocky ridge and hopped on the glacier. Winds picked up, and we skinned along the west edge of the Siuattle Glacier in winds that would take your breath away if your pointed your mouth at them. We made good time up the glacier, except of course when my skins failed (yet again!) and I had to resort to ski-strapping them on. I had figured this method out on my last trip to the enchantments with Ben, so I knew to point the metal tooth of the strap down for better purchase. My glide was gone, but I didn’t have any trouble for the rest of the summit push.
We swung our way around the tempting false summit of disappointment peak, saw our first mini-crevasse opening that was easy to stay far away from, and caught our first up-close glimpse of the main peak. From the south-east the face was covered in cornices, bergschrunds, and crevasses. To tell the truth, it was extremely concerning, as it looked completely impassible. We were supposed to go up the south-west side, and from our view it looked completely covered in rime ice.
As we swung around to the west, thing progressively started to look better and better. The scary bergschrund was filled in along the ridge, and the rime-covered face had a strip of pristine corn leading right to the summit. We switched to boots here, and quickly booted up the final section to the summit, were we were greeted with the best views of our lives.
Glacier Peak might have the best position in the cascades. On this wonderful clear day, we could see Rainier and Baker, the Puget Sound, and the expansive North Cascades blending seamlessly into the endless remote peaks the comprise the Glacier Peak Wilderness. We could see The Stuart Range with Dragontail and Stuart standing tall, and how close geographically to our local stomping grounds of Snoqualmie Pass. We were smack in the middle of the Cascades, on the most remote volcano in the range. Life was good, and we stayed on the summit for more than an hour endlessly turning to soak in the 360° views.
We swapped some stories with a party that arrived from the Frostbite ridge, clicked into our skis, and skied what might be the most perfect corn I’ve ever skied. Even the classic volcano-rime ice off the summit had softened into a satisfying consistency that blasted apart with ease. I was consumed by the joys of skiing and wouldn’t dare stop as I linked soft buttery turns down the Cool Glacier back onto the Siuattle Glacier.
Partway down the Siuattle, things got heavy, and we hopped back to our windy ridge and followed it back to Glacier Gap. Then began a seemingly endless game of boot/ski/boot slogging in the heat of the lower mountain. We were invincible; however, because we had skied Glacier Peak in conditions we might never see again.
Eventually we made it back to camp, where our tents had blown 50ft from where we’d put them and our entire campsite had been overrun by carpenter ant hatchlings. They were everywhere and in everything; In every nook and cranny in our tent flies, all over the ground, in the trees, in our backpacks if we left them open. We cooked dinner, enjoyed some rest, and I got in my rearranged tent ready for a long nap and an enjoyable jaunt out in the morning.