The Range of Mystery

Of all parts of the Cascades, the Buckindy Range might be the least traveled. Sure, the Pickets have a reputation for the most challenging terrain, but access via Luna or McMillan Basin or even Whatcom Pass is relatively popular. The area just west of the Pickets, where Wyatt, Logan, John and I attempted to visit last year during our failed Baker River High Route, is a strong contender. But as far as an entire sub range goes, the Buckindy Range is probably the most obscure. Outside of Snowking on its northern end, the range sees probably just a few people all year, while the other side of the Cascade River Road has dozens if not hundreds of people per day!

Both Wyatt and I had known of the Buckindy Range, but we did know anyone who had actually been there. The only real summer time trip report from the north side of the range was from Cascade Hardman Tom S, who did a loop from Sonny Boy to Buckindy to Snowking. It sounded rugged and blue collar. Other stories from the somewhat more traveled southern part of the range referenced sidehilling so steep you needed crampons in the dirt. Overall, not that appealing. But someday, we had to check it out for ourselves. And with only a three day weekend free to do a route together this summer, that someday was now.

Our plan was to follow a similar route as Tom, but start by ascending Sunny Girl to maximize time in the alpine. Just like Tom, Wyatt wanted to climb Bruseth and Misch.

Knowing we had a long day ahead of us, we got started before 7 AM (something you could never do with the North Cascades National Park permit system, but this is fortunately out of the park) in the bowels of the Cascade River Valley. With some careful driving, I was able to coax my Outback to the road junction where Snowking and Sonny Boy split. Thus, we would not repeat a single step on this route – it was a perfect loop.

Nearly immediately, we had to ford the ice cold Kindy Creek. It was mid thigh deep, and my feet quickly went numb.

Once past the creek, the logging road is very overgrown. If ascending the Cher ridge like Tom S, there is a faint trail immediately. Instead, we pushed through bushes along the old road. Sonny Bay Creek (why is there a Sonny Boy, Sunny Girl, and Sunny Bay Creek?) was easier to cross. After that, we started up a steeper old logging spur road. A small animal path was easy to follow.

There was not much undergrowth and the forest was easy to walk through. As we got higher, we kept waiting for it to get bad, but it never did. There was even a visible animal path most of the way. From 1500 ft to 5000 ft, it was the least brushy, nicest off trail ascent we have ever done the in the Cascades! Perhaps it was karma for the terrible bushwhack we did up the south side of Icy last summer…

Around 5k, we had the option of traversing right into a cirque beneath Sunny Girl, but instead we went straight up the ridge. This involved finally a bit of bush and then steep heather towards the summit ridge. We were excited to be up in the alpine already!

There are so many giant peaks surrounding Sunny Girl, all separated by incredibly deep valleys. I don’t think I have ever noticed Sunny Girl from the mighty giants of the Cascade River Road, but it is certainly cool from the other side.

We began a series of ups and downs along the ridge. Going north to south, we unfortunately were climbing soft snow and descending dry ground – the opposite of what you want. The elevation gain through this section was sneaky. It was warm in the sun, but fortunately, there was one section with running water from snow melt. Later in the season, I would expect it to be completely dry.

This section took a lot longer than we expected, and we were running low on water, so we made the decision to skip Sonny Boy and traverse beneath the north side. I was almost worried that I would not be able to find water here, as it all seemed to travel underground in the porous rock. However, I found one spot where the water was forced to the surface. It was bizarre being in such snowy terrain, yet finding so little surface water.

The summer solstice is certainly an early time of year to do this route, but the melt out is about 3 weeks ahead of normal this year. We were not expecting perfectly transitioned summer snow, but we were still surprised at how bad it was. Despite relatively cool temperatures, the snow was a hot mess. We were plunging ankle to shin deep every steep with our heavy packs. It somehow seemed less transitioned than 3 weeks earlier on Mt. Daniel, despite relatively little precipitation since then. To make matters worse, my poles didn’t have snow baskets, so they often plunged 2-3 feet deep into the snow, making them mostly useless.

After rounding the long Sonny Boy ridge, we hoped to regain the ridge. Here, we encountered the first unexpected complexity with a knife edge class 4-5 ridge. We were almost ready to turn around and go back around to a different saddle when I found a traverse route beneath the cliffs. We linked together steep snow and some class 3 granite to get back on the ridge just north of Bench Benchmark.

After traversing beneath another small peak, we were greeted with an incredible view of Long Gone Peak. It’s magnificent granite northwest ridge was far too aesthetic for a peak I had never even heard of previously. But I had a feeling that was going to be a theme for this trip. The terrain was really starting to get stunning – and challenging.

Tom S went straight over the summit of Long Gone, but it looked intimidating with heavy packs and we were running behind schedule, so we opted to traverse beneath its west aspect. At the next col, we found a wonderful flat heather campsite with running water just below, so we decided to set up our tent here. It was 6:30 PM by the time we set off with lighter packs for Bruseth.

The deeper we got into the range, the more complex the terrain became. What looked like a simple ridge on the map inevitably became a series of ups and downs through rock and snow. Honestly, it reminded me a little bit of the Pickets, just quite a bit easier. Call it “Picket-lite”.

From the next col, it supposedly was a simple out and back to Bruseth. Upon first glance, it was anything but. Glacial recession of the Bruseth Glacier necessitated a steep snow traverse. The scramble looked rather complex with some gendarmes and hanging snowfields.

The only beta we had on Bruseth was “class 3” from Tom’s trip report – in other words, no beta. It was simple enough until we got to the summit block.

It was pretty easy to get around the gendarme on the south side but then things really steepened. I found a route by weaving back onto easy but exposed ledges on the north face, high above the glacier. Then we shimmied our way through a moat to some final steep class 4+ moves on solid granite. Fortunately, the crux was not very exposed.

Just after 8 PM, nearly 14 hours on the move, we were on the summit of Bruseth! Very few people have probably every stood atop this obscure peak. It was the randomest of places to be, but it was certainly a wonderful place to be, with golden hour light streaming down the valleys. Familiar peaks, from odd perspectives.

We carefully down climbed the crux and moat. Once we were back on easier terrain, we could breathe a sigh of relief and simply relish the sunset as we returned to camp. It reminded me of descending to Luna Col at sunset after an epic day in McMillan Cirque, although much less stressed out.

We returned to camp just after sunset, having made use of the long near-solstice day. We spent 15 hours on the move, covering 10k+ gain, mostly with overnight packs. After a hearty dinner, we quickly fell asleep.

We slept in through sunrise the next morning, getting some much needed rest. My quads still felt tired after such a big day. Wyatt and I agreed that we could scrap the plan to climb Misch, which would require over 2k ft extra vert.

The main crux of the day would be the Tara ridge – a classic North Cascade feature that splits two drainages with a seemingly impassible vertical wall. Tom had mentioned doing a single 30m rappel in this section, so we had brought 2x30m ropes.

We quickly cruised across the first cirque, enjoying firmer snow in the shade, but it was already soft enough to not need crampons. We gained the Tara ridge around 5900 ft and dropped down to an obvious saddle at 5800 ft.

Tom described scrambling down as far as he could, before making a single rappel. That seemed to be the skier’s left option. I noticed an existing rap anchor on the skier’s right side. Below, it seemed to be just class 3 forest scrambling. We decided to take this option, since an anchor was already in place and the existence of trees would give us more options as we got lower.

I backed up the anchor and went on rappel. In reality, it was only steep for 30-40 ft, so a single 30m rope would have sufficed for this rappel. Below, we downscrambled class 3 forest – a bit slippery but not very exposed. A few easy rock moves got us through the feature and we were home free! Overall, it was easier than expected.

With the technical crux of the route completed, we felt relieved. Now we just had to cross three massive cirques!

We dropped briefly below 5k to get around some rock ribs on this section, the only time we would drop below that elevation during the entire high route! But it never was brushy. There were loads of beautiful streams, something that I had missed from our first day.

Eventually, we reached a striking prow that jutted out of the glacial polished slabs around it. The rock was bomber, so I made the quick class 4 scramble to the top.

There used to be an impressive amount of glaciation in this small range. Nearly all the north and east facing cirques once held glaciers. The main Kindy Glacier complex used to descend from 7000 ft all the way to 4600 ft! Now, only the very upper cirques are left. While much of the attention in glacial loss focuses on the volcanoes, mid elevation ranges like the Buckindy have lost a far greater percentage of their ice coverage. In its place, there were dozens of large glide cracks as the snowpack prepared its annual shed down the polished slabs. The piles of avalanche debris from glide avalanches were particularly awful to post hole through.

At the ridge separating the next cirque, we were able to ascend easily on snow, and descend the other side with a little class 3 scrambling. One cirque down, two to go.

Eager to get a break from the soft snow, we trended a little lower in this cirque. The terrain was probably slower and more complex below 6k, but it also led us to this verdant confluence of streams, glowing with fluorescent moss.

The climb up to the Mutchler Glacier was straightforward, and a nice breeze greeted us on the edge of the glacier. There are some potential heather campsites along the ridge here. The snow was wonderfully supportive for the first time all day as we ascended to the summit.

Mutchler is perhaps the best vantage point of the entire high route. The massive cirques we had just traversed splayed out beneath us. The elegance of the route, circling the headwaters of Kindy Creek, was visually apparent.

On the south side of the range, Buck Creek flows towards the Suiattle, but on the north side, Kindy Creek dominates. Buck + Kindy = Buckindy.

The Mutchler Glacier used to occupy the entire cirque between Mutchler and Snowking, a massive mid elevation glacier, but now only the highest north facing slopes still have ice. Snowking similarly used to have glaciers on all sides, but now on the north side glaciers remain.

The traverse between the peaks was a slog in the soft snow, with more ups and downs than anticipated (as is typically the case in the Buckindy Range). We finally reached the normal Snowking ascent route 600 ft below the summit, so we dropped our packs and made it up to the summit around 6 PM.

Snowking and Mutchler bear striking resemblance to Daniel and Hinman in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. Both Snowking and Daniel are massifs, with multiple summits and glaciers. Gorgeous granite lined alpine lakes flank their slopes. Hinman and Mutchler are complimentary peaks, slightly lower but with broad, gentle glacial (or post glacial, in the case of Hinman) slopes. The elevation difference (Snowking and Mutchler are approximately 500 ft lower than Daniel and Hinman) showcases the slightly colder and wetter climate of the North Cascades, as similar amount of glaciation persist.

We had a peaceful descent towards Cyclone Lake, admiring the passing clouds and shadows. I had been up Snowking once before on skis, which was enjoyable. But the real magic of the area comes alive as the lakes melt out in the summer. This region feels like if the Alpine Lakes Wilderness and North Cascades had a baby. It is really special.

We found a nice flat heather campsite with great views of the Cascade River Valley. The clouds never really parted for sunset, but it was still a pleasant evening.

Since it was our last day, we got up for sunrise and walked up to the bump above Cyclone Lake.

It is remarkable how vast the Cascade River Valley feels from this perspective. It is merely one valley in the Cascades, but it drains some of the mightiest peaks.

After packing up camp, we followed the nice climber’s trail towards Found Peak. Then it was time to begin the 4500 ft descent back to our car.

The climber’s trail was in remarkably good shape. We made quick progress back down to the old logging roads.

I remembered the most annoying part of skiing Snowking to be the overgrowth logging roads. Fortunately, someone has established a new climber’s trail that cuts across the old logging roads, resulting in a route that is both shorter and easier to maintain. It was a little challenging to follow in a few spots, but we were able to stay on it!

Down low, it follows some even more ancient logging roads that have amazingly stayed brush free. It is perhaps due to the fact the loggers left some massive old growth trees, so the road stays shaded.

The Buckindy Range really felt like a range of mystery going in. Very few people explore beyond Snowking, despite the relatively easy accessibility. So Wyatt and I presumed, with good reason, that it was annoyingly blue collar, brushy, and subpar. Instead, we found the high route to be remarkably pleasant, stunning, and classic feeling. The Buckindy High Route is, step for step, on a similar level as many of the North Cascades classics.

While I love spring skiing, it typically leads you to a few select areas over and over. It was wonderful to kick off summer by going in the complete opposite direction and check out a huge black hole on the map for me. Thanks Wyatt for yet another great high route!

Notes:

• In total, the route was 33 miles and 16k ft gain. Bruseth added about 1k gain.
• The Tara section would have been fine with a single 30m rope for the rappel. If you were ascending that section, it probably would result in a little bit of class 5 wet jungling. It’s probably doable, but I’d recommend going the direction we did.
• Ideal snow coverage is probably what we experience up to a few weeks later. So in a typical year, that would be the month of July. This route could be much more challening in August because I think it could result in a lack of water on the first section, and extensive choss / boulder walking.
• The Buckindy Range has a reputation for bad rock, but I think that is really only the summits of Misch and Buckindy. Most of the range is granitic and quite pleasant.
• If you really needed water after the initial climb, there was a nice little lake on the east side of the ridge beneath Sunny Girl.
• There are a plethora of turquoise glacial lakes on this route, but almost all were still snow covered for us. A few weeks later would be better for that. However, we did enjoy the complete lack of mosquitoes.