Baker Lake to Ross Lake

Big Beautiful Bail

As a climber in Washington, there’s plenty of mythical talk about the Pickets – about their ruggedness, their remoteness, their beauty. Last year, I was so stoked to traverse the eastern side of the Pickets on a Pickets High Route with Wyatt and Anthony. But over the last few years, I have begun to wonder if the Pickets are not actually the most remote part of the Cascades. A few lower, understated peaks to their west had begun to catch my eye – Crowder, Settler, and Tabor. What if these are actually the hardest to access peaks in the Cascades?

Two years ago, Logan and I did the obscure Mineral High Route. As we gazed down to the giant Baker River Big Walls, we began to surmise that the high peaks of the Baker River drainage might be the least visited part of the Cascades. From high on Mineral Peak, an idea began to brew in our minds – the Baker River High Route.

The Baker River High Route would be a high route circumnavigating the headwaters of the Baker River in a loop, starting from the Baker River Trailhead. On paper, it looked simple. But really, it was the burliest of routes, with crux after crux. Only four total miles were on a maintained trail. The starting elevation was barely higher than where I live, but little time was spent in the valley. Yet it was not uniquely alpine – each day would require bushwhacking below tree line. While the Glacier Peak High Route felt like an athletic performance, and the Pickets felt like a test piece, the Baker River High Route would be an adventure in obscurity.

Like the past few years, Wyatt and I planned for a 4 day trip over July 4th weekend. The closest someone on the internet had came to doing our route was Steph Abegg’s similar Mystery Ridge to Northern Pickets Route, and she had taken 7 days. Complicating things, I had hurt my knee just a few days before on Kyes Peak. The weather looked iffy – with possible clouds and precipitation that could make traveling through such rugged terrain difficult or downright dangerous. But ultimately, we decided to roll the dice. John and Logan decided join us. We figured that, with our busy lives (mine being especially busy this summer with my wedding, honeymoon, and new job that puts me on-call once every four weeks), we only get one chance a year to do a trip like this together.

Day 1: Baker River to Ruth

We drove up on Thursday morning to pick up permits from the Marblemount Ranger Station. Luckily, Wyatt knew the ranger issuing permits, so she didn’t give us any trouble for such an obscure, aggressive agenda. Oftentimes, getting National Park overnight permits is the crux of the trip.

Around 10 AM, we set off from the Baker River Trailhead, at a lowly elevation of 770 ft. Logan had been training recently by running on the beach, joking he needed to de-acclimatize for such a low elevation start. The first few miles are beautifully maintained, with towering trees and a beautiful turquoise river.

The beautiful Baker River!
It’s huckleberry season already.

After Sulphide Creek, the trail completely disappears. We found a log crossing, but then struggled to find the trail. Eventually we found it, although it was mostly felt underfoot, rather than seen. Still, it kept us moving quickly to Crystal Creek.

At Crystal Creek, we had options. Wyatt found a report of ascending up the steep shoulder of Blister Peak, which would allow us to take a high route to Icy. However, I had read a report from a climb of Seahpo that mentioned a lost trail up Crystal Creek. In theory, this could save us a lot of vert and time. I was correct on the first front, but not sure about the second.

We found the Crystal Creek trail, which at first was good. However, as it entered a tighter canyon, it became increasingly brushy. I have never encountered so much devil’s club. I’m still pulling devil’s club out of my hand.

Finally, we reached the creek coming down from Phantom Pass. After crossing it, we turned right and headed upslope. From here until 3k, the brush calmed down and we made good progress.

Above 3k, we started to ascend a more gentle slope. Although the forest looked fine on satellite imagery, the spacing was incredibly wide, offering tons of sunlight for smaller trees. The forest was choked with 5-10 ft tall bushes. No matter where we went, the brush was thick. I have never encountered a forest like this before. Why is the spacing between mature trees so large? The only silver lining was that the brush wasn’t sharp here.

Between the lower Baker River, the thorny Crystal Creek section, and this endless brush, our approach up Icy was definitely the worst bushwhack of my life. I was getting worried we wouldn’t make it to Ruth for the night, which could put us behind schedule on an aggressive timeline. Why were we doing such an unnecessarily difficult approach? Any reasonable person would have just done a car shuttle to Hannegan, like Steph did. But one does do the Baker River High Route because it is easy; one does it because it is hard.

First clear view of Blum from the sub alpine.

Around 4300 ft, things started to get better in the sub-alpine. By 5k, we were cruising.

Stoke is rising!

We flew up the snow slopes on the south side of Icy and into the clouds as we traversed the west side. There were enough peek-a-boo views of Shuksan and the Nooksack Glacier to keep things interesting.

Nooksack Glacier.
Nooksack River.
Ruth hiding in the clouds.

We ascended the same snow gully we skied down during the Ruth Icy Traverse last year. While most of it was snow, there was a bit of really loose choss.

This gully really sucks without snow.

We made one last push up Ruth, breaking out of the clouds in the last few hundred feet right at sunset. It was a classic “right time / right place” moment. We were definitely rolling the dice with the weather, but moments like this make it so much more rewarding than splitter sunny days.

Out of the clouds on Ruth!

We set up camp in the rocky bivy sites on the summit of Ruth as we watched the clouds light up and dance around the Nooksack Cirque below us. It was a burly first day, but in the end, it worked out alright.

Beautifully lit clouds clinging to Shuksan and Baker.

Day 2: Ruth to Perfect Pass

A strong east wind woke us up at 4 AM. The summit sites on Ruth have wind walls to the west, but not east. It is a difficult place to secure a tent, with no soil nearby. It was very cold in the wind, so once the sun was on us and we got moving, we were much happier.

Hello, Mr. Goat!

The descend east from Ruth went rather quickly on snow. The bushwhack down to 4100 ft Chilliwack Pass was a little annoying, but nothing compared to the day before. Now commenced the first technical crux of the trip – the Mineral High Route.

Most parties do this route in the other direction, performing a rappel or two to get down to the pass. Logan and I had previously onsighted in that direction also, but had found a way to avoid rappels. We started by traversing left from the pass onto the north side, then went up and left. Armed with our knowledge and GPX track, the Mineral High Route went about as smoothly as it could go. There was still some unavoidable schwacking, but that’s par for the course when you are “North Cascades low routing”.

Traversing the key gully, below which it becomes an uncrossable chasm.
Scrambling some solid ledges.

We took a long break on the summit of Mineral to dry our feet out before the next section. Logan and I are in rare company with two whole summits of Mineral! For a peak so close to the car, it does not get much action.

The descent down the east side of Mineral had incredible boot skiing. As we approached the Northern Pickets, the Baker River Big Walls came into view below. Even though we were not far from Ruth, it felt like we had entered the deep, remote North Cascades.

Primo terrain between Mineral and Easy.
John jumps a moat as the snow pulls away on slabs.

Easy Pass had a tiny bit of brush, but it was short lived. I was excited to show John and Wyatt the famous Easy Pass Snotel site, home to the deepest measured snowpack (in terms of SWE) in the lower 48. It typically reaches a maximum depth of 100 inches of snow water equivalent!

Behold the snowiest measured Snotel spot!

We passed by a gorgeous lake, continuing to the summit of Easy Peak. Unlike last year’s Fourth of July trip, the heather was in full bloom in places.

Easy Lake?
Blooming heather and the Pickets!
Blum above the Baker River.

From Easy Peak, we had a good view of our next day, where we would traverse beneath the west side of Crowder. The “Crowder Bypass” would likely be the crux of the trip. There are only a few reports, but they make it sound quite formidable, even compared to other Picket obstacles. Additionally, there is no real alternative. We were definitely a bit intimidated by people’s descriptions.

The Crowder Bypass visible on the right – steep snow, trees, and gullies.
Easy Ridge from Easy Peak. It was about to get much harder.

The gentle scenic walk along Easy Ridge is a form of mountain humor. It’s a trick, where the Pickets lull you into a false sense of security, and then slap you in the face with the “Imperfect Impasse” – a deep chasm that blocks the way to Perfect Pass.

Looking down the Imperfect Impasse.

We arrived at the Impasse at 5,000 ft, at the “standard crossing”. I dropped my pack and carefully scouted the “exposed 3rd class ledges”. While it easily took me into the feature, scrambling down onto the snow looked unsafe, with a severely undercut moat. There was a rappel anchor, but that would be pretty committing. I reversed the moves and discussed with the group.

The lower shelf is the “slabby 3rd class” option.

There are probably half a dozen variations on Impasse beta. Some mentioned crossing higher, so we scrambled up a hundred feet, but getting out on the other side looked even worse.

We had a decision: do we rappel into the Impasse, committing ourselves to climbing out the other side, or do we drop 600 ft to go around it? It was only 5:30 PM, so we decided to just play it safe and do more elevation gain.

We dropped to 4400 ft, where the Impasse ends and you can easily cross. There was a group camped down here. On the other side, we scrambled up slabs and veggies, encountering one exposed 5th class mantle (rap anchor above if you were descending). But mostly, it was smooth.

Up the right side of the photo. Surprisingly not brushy.

The final bit to Perfect Pass is black on Caltopo slope angle shading. Yet we found a 3rd class way up wet ledges. From the base of the Impasse to the Perfect Pass, the entire 1800 ft climb feels tedious, but surprisingly never that difficult. Just when it felt like things were finally going to get hard, we’d find a way through. We were relieved to reach camp, as clouds had engulfed the peaks around us, and threatening precipitation.

Gazing down the Baker River Valley to Dock Butte.

The wind raced up the Baker River Valley to Perfect Pass. After pitching our tents on some beautiful, soft ground, we made dinner, hiding beneath a krummholz, trying to stay warm. I can’t remember the last time I was so cold on a summer trip in the Cascades. At least the next two days were supposed to be better…

Everything is perfect about this pass except the weather.

Day 3: Perfect Pass to Luna Col

Day 3 was going to be our spiciest day, with steep terrain on the west side of the Pickets and the infamous Crowder bypass. We needed good weather. Although the previous day had been a bit cloudy, the forecast was trending upwards for Saturday and Sunday.

So we were a bit surprised when we woke up in a complete whiteout. Figuring there was nothing to do without visibility, we went back to sleep.

Around 7 AM, it appeared that we were on the edge of a marine layer, so we decided to pack up and get moving. As soon as we stepped onto the Challenger Glacier, we broke out of the thick fog. Oh, the wonders of the Cascade Crest!

Out of the clouds!

Growing up, I always equated the hydrological and meteorological crest. Around Snoqualmie Pass, this holds true – where the water flows east, it’s the “eastside”. But in the North Cascades, the meteorological crest, including the Pickets, is far to the west of the hydrological crest. The marine layer breaks at the Picket Fence, allowing larches to dot the slopes of Luna. The Pickets actually used to be the hydrological crest, and Ross Lake used to flow north into Canada. But during the Ice Age, the Cordilleran Ice Sheet dammed up present day Ross Lake from the north, forcing it to breach Diablo Canyon to the south in a series of catastrophic floods.

Heading up the Challenger Glacier.

There are some beautiful camp options high on Challenger Arm, possibly even better than Perfect Pass.

Baker and Shuksan from Challenger Arm.

We continued to the high col between the Middle and West Peaks of Challenger. The view to the west side was stunning, with steep cliffs and island peaks poking through the clouds.

The Solar Glacier on Challenger.
Crowder, Despair, and Settler.

Steph’s trip report outlined two options here – a loose class 3 descent or a more solid low 5th scramble. The class 3 option looked absolutely disgusting – steep stacked blocks that looked like they were about to fall like a Jenga tower. The low 5th option looked solid, with the option to rappel the steepest section at the top. But downclimbing it with full packs would be non-trivial, so we decided to scout the next col further west.

The low 5th option.

Wrapping around the west side of West Challenger, we found much easier terrain – class 1 with a cairn to mark the crossing. Looking at a map, this obviously looks like the easier option. We were very confused why people mostly do the more technical crossing in trip reports.

We were about to descend when the cloud started to rise, giving us hesitation. Did we really want to descend into a whiteout? Over the last few hours, it looked like the marine layer was about to burn off, but suddenly it was starting to worsen. We decided to wait an hour and see what happened.

There was cell service up here, so Wyatt got an updated forecast, and it was not good. The new forecast called for a strengthening marine layer and thick clouds to sit on the crest until sunset. We were not excited about navigating such steep terrain with limited visibility. Wet vegetation could make the Crowder Bypass sketchy. And because we needed to be out by the next evening, we could not wait out the bad weather.

We discussed our options:

  1. Continue into the clouds. If things went smoothly, we could get far enough towards Mystery Ridge to make the final day reasonable (but still long). However, if we got to the Crowder Bypass and had to turn around, it would be difficult to make it back to Challenger Arm by nightfall. And then we would have to reverse the Impasse and hike out Hannegan, getting picked up. That would really suck.
  2. Bail now to Luna on the east side of the range. Wyatt and I had traversed Luna Cirque the year before, so we knew this options would be relatively “chill”. John and Logan had never been through the Pickets, so they were excited by this proposition. We would still need to get picked up at Ross Lake, but it was a shorter car shuttle back to the Baker River than from Hannegan.

After an hour of waiting, without improvements in the weather, it was an easy choice to bail. Wyatt called his mom, and she agreed to pick us up the next day from Ross Lake.

Honestly, I felt pretty disappointed. I rarely bail, so I’m not used to feeling let down. Completing our planned route is meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but it is easy to get attached to an idea or goal. Bailing on this route could mean I never complete the full Baker River High Route; it was difficult enough for all of us to get 4 days off together this summer, and it is going to get significantly harder once Kelly and I start a family in the future. Plus, it took two hard days to get here, and I don’t really want to repeat the Icy bushwhack. But part of growing up is learning to let go of specific ambitions and value the experiences and people instead. I’ve visited so many incredible corners of the Cascades; even if I never get to Pickell Pass, for example, it won’t change the sum of my experiences.

Clouds pouring over Perfect Pass with even more vigor. Another group descending the glacier.

With a suddenly relaxed timeline, we decided to go for a Challenger summit. Logan chilled at a flat spot on the glacier, while Wyatt, John, and I hiked up to the summit block. I led the crux pitch, which involved about 10 ft of 5.7 climbing, protected by clipping fixed pins. The rock was really good!

The summit block in the clouds.

Those pesky clouds never fully parted on the summit, but we got a decent view down into Luna Cirque.

Luna Cirque below.

Our single 30m rope was easily enough for the rappel, and then we trotted back to Logan. Along the way, we ran into my friend Colie ascending Challenger. In total, we passed 11 people going up or down, meaning that 14 people summited Challenger on a single day!

With full packs once again, we continued on to the “eastside”, with nice filtered sunshine. The descent into Luna Cirque went very smoothly, given our experience from the year prior. There was some legendary boot skiing near the bottom!

Does this count as a Pickets ski traverse?
One chossy lateral moraine above Lousy Lake, but it is pretty chill as far as moraines go.

Last year, Wyatt and I found Luna Cirque to be a relaxing relief after the intense McMillan Cirque. While this trip had nothing like the McMillan Cirque, Luna Cirque was once again very easy compared to the Icy bushwhack, Mineral, and Imperfect Impasse. The horrors of Luna Cirque are vastly overstated. With adequate snow cover, and good route finding, it is actually quite simple.

Luna Lake!

The climb up to Luna Col was absolutely gorgeous, through blooming heather meadows, larches, and gushing streams. I’m used to being pressed for time on these high routes, nervous about unknown difficulties. But this time, we knew we had it in the bag.

Luna larches!

We reached Luna Col at a bit before 7 PM and were shocked to find no one else there. We found two dry campsites, ate dinner, and dried out our feet before heading up Luna for the sunset. Last year, Wyatt and I stumbled into Luna col at 10 PM, exhausted, before waking up at 4 AM to catch the sunrise. It was nice to return under more relaxed circumstances.

Terror – and beauty.

The clouds were still clinging to the Pickets, but we had high hopes for the sunset. The sun was setting to the north of Challenger, where the horizon was clear, and there were high clouds all around. The air was crisp, and the Cascadian layers were showing off, all the way to the Coast Range of BC.

Prophet and Jacob’s Ladder.
Hozomeen.
Incredible layers out to Slesse!

As the sun lowered, the clouds slowly parted, like a great reveal. Clouds were still flowing over Perfect Pass. Occasionally, one would break off and float in front of the sun, glowing in a fiery red.

Fiery clouds!
Incredible light to the NW.
Clouds relentlessly clinging to Whatcom Peak.

I’ve seen a lot of incredible sunsets in the mountains, but this one might take the cake. A perfect summit view, and a perfect sunset. We were feeling pretty good about our “big beautiful bail” (Logan trademarked) at this point.

The boys were all smiles.
West Fury and East Fury.
Redoubt, king of the Chilliwacks.
Northern Pickets in fading light.
The full glory of the Pickets.

It was difficult to pull ourselves from the summit, but one by one, we decided to head down, milking the last light of that summer sun.

Kulshan sunset.
Moon over McMillan Spires.

Day 4: Luna Col to Ross Lake

We woke up to catch the sunrise above camp, discovering that we got the first hard freeze of the trip. With some steep snow to traverse on our way out, we decided to go back to sleep for a few hours. I can’t remember the last time I slept in so much.

Southern Pickets sunrise.

Once we packed up, we started on the traverse towards Access Creek. None of us had done this route before, but we heard that the approach trail has been improving with more traffic.

Traversing over to Access Creek.

There were some insanely beautiful heather blooms along the footpath. The drop to the valley floor and back up to the Southern Pickets was so steep that it felt almost unnatural – like some AI slop you find on Facebook. But it was real life.

Blooming heather with the Southern Pickets.
That’s some verticality!

The descent into Access Creek starts with a steep east facing gully. It was mostly melted out. The dirt and rocks were tedious, but not awful. We had to be careful in such a large group though. It appeared that there was a much lower angle, snowier gully further east along the ridge. We wondered why this isn’t the standard route?

Dropping down into Access Creek.
Looking back at Luna.

The route was brush free to the valley bottom. We continued on the right side of the creek before crossing into some old growth. The trail was generally well defined, and mostly brush free! The only real bushwhacking was near the bottom of Big Beaver, where the trail dissipates and it is a free-for-all to cross the river.

Found an easy log to cross Big Beaver.

From here, we had 16-17 trail miles to get back to Highway 20. Just like last year, Wyatt and I ended our Fourth of July Weekend hiking out along Ross Lake, dipping in the water, and finding conversation topics to pass the time. Wyatt’s mom was waiting for us at Ross Dam with cold drinks and snacks! Thanks, Dr. Mullen!

The North Cascades are such a remarkable, rugged place. Even though we didn’t complete our original goal, we still had an incredible 4 days through challenging and stunning terrain. Every time I return to this corner of the Cascades, I am once again blown away by the beauty and wildness. At the heart of this wild corner is the Baker River. While we failed to complete our vision of the Baker River High Route, we are already scheming for a return trip to visit the spots we missed. Life continues to change, but these special mountains are always there for us.

Notes:

  • Our route was 56 miles and 26k ft gain. Almost all of the gain was in the first three days.
  • The melt out is about 1-2 weeks ahead of normal this year. This felt like the right amount of snow for this route! You could do with a little more or a little less.
  • If you’re willing to attempt Icy from the Baker River, I’d recommend trying the Blister ridge, even though it is more gain.
  • We never completely explored the upper options of the Impasse, but it seemed like it was either best to do the standard crossing or drop down below. Although it’s annoying to drop below, we felt that it was actually pretty quick and straightforward.
  • If crossing onto the west side of Challenger, it seems easiest to use the col to the west of West Challenger.
  • Access Creek is mostly brush free! It is definitely the easiest approach on the east side of the Pickets.
  • Mineral had nothing more than class 3 and moderate bushwhacking.

One thought on “Baker Lake to Ross Lake”

  1. Nice trip. Love to see Crystal Creek get some love. Flirting with all of my favorite areas here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *