Trip Report: Beckey Route on Liberty Bell

"Wouldn't It Be Cool If We Could Climb That..."

Driving along Rt. 20 out of the North Cascades National Park, a range of beautiful cliff walls rose up in front of us.

We pulled into an overlook to get a closer look.

Dave made his "I want to climb that" face - a little smirk plus a twinkle in his eye.  I made my "I'm going to get dragged into a Type 2 adventure, {sigh}" face.

But I had to admit, those were some mighty fine mountains.  Especially that tall one on the right.

In Mazama the next day, the owner of Goat's Beard told us that was Liberty Bell, and there was a moderate route up its southwest face.  Oh really?

In camp that evening, the climbers next to us insisted that we would love the Beckey Route.  Oh really?

Eh, why not!

The Approach

Kind of sucks.  I guess the extremely loose, steep choss pile is "normal" for the North Cascades.  I wore a helmet (probably the only place on the mountain where it was really warranted).

We had to pull out our Super Topo book a few times to make sure we were picking the right gully, but after you're up here once, you'll know exactly where the climb starts.

Also, watch out for aggressive mountain goats, especially if they have kids.

dave attempts the frozen snowfield without spikes - that didn't last long!

nasty, loose, chossy approach

played "hide and seek" with these guys for a few minutes

The Climb

Pitch one - not that memorable.  I do remember thinking that the rock quality is very good, especially compared to the sand pile below.  5.easy.

pitch one

Pitch two was the money pitch for me.  A series of chimneys, some mantling, and even a (easily bypassed) sweet short section of offwidth (never pass up an opportunity to stack hands!).  It was more physical and more fun than I expected.  I went deep into the chimney to make it a bit harder, felt about 5.6.

On pitch three, I had a self-professed "dirt bag" up my rear end the entire climb - literally - he could have touched my feet for the entire pitch - instead, he gave me tips on my technique (how, uh, considerate?).  Fortunately, I was in a good mood, otherwise I would have told him to back the f*** off 'cause I was about to fall.  ;-)  Anyway, the "airy finger traverse" should come meet some of our airy traverses in the Gunks.  This felt closer to 5.4-5.5.

pitch three

Pitch four is some 4th class scrambling and a short 5.6 slab.  Depending on your comfort level, you could drop rope and harness at the P3 belay and solo to the top.  If you'd downclimb it without a rope (which at least one person in your party will have to do), you can climb up it without a rope.  Being generally timid with exposure, I stayed on belay the entire time, 'cause why not, we had nowhere else to be.

pitch four

The Views

Second only to the Khumbu Valley in Nepal.  Seriously, took my breath away.

We hung out on top for a while, eating lunch and soaking in the views.

The Bad Part

While we were at the top, I had my first close call in my 6+ years of climbing.  We let another party use our anchor, and the clueless-yet-thinks-he-knows-what-he's-doing leader didn't understand what he was seeing, didn't have the humility to ask, and therefore put my (and his) life in danger.

(Quick story: he set up a single strand rap off the wrong biner in our anchor.  He used the biner on the back of the ATC in guide mode - and I was still in the belay (views were too good, I got distracted!)  So the only thing holding his 225 lb rear end to our anchor was the wire on the back of the ATC...  and my 125 lbs body weight on the other end of the rope.)

Amazingly, without seeing how he set up his rappel, my spider sense told me that I shouldn't trust what was going on.  This was the guy whose anchor for P2 was a PAS to a single shrub the size of my arm, and who belayed his wife directly off his harness - no, really.  (What do you do in a situation like that? Say something? What could you possibly say??)  I untied and escaped from the system as soon as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.  Thank you, feminine intuition.

At almost the same time, Dave did see what was going on, and immediately acted to correct the leader's error (and potentially save his butt, too).  Backed up that biner with a quickdraw into the power point of the anchor.

Lesson learned:  NO ONE TOUCHES OUR GEAR FOR ANY REASON WITHOUT DAVE OR I CHECKING THEIR WORK.  This goes for people we meet on the climb as well as our climbing friends of many years (who know their stuff and will understand why this is important!).  Dave and I always check each other, because it's so easy to make a mistake and the consequences can be so high.  We should have had this rule in place before, but I guess it takes a close call to make you remember why it's important.

The Descent

I rapped off our top anchor to avoid down climbing the 5.6 slab and to get down fast.  There were multiple parties coming up P3 and P4, and I am not a fast climber or downclimber!  Dave broke down the anchor and downclimbed (he's fast).

From there, it's an easy scramble/ downclimb to two sets of bolted anchors.

Overall

It was an awesome experience!

For not a ton of effort or commitment, we saw a landscape that only the birds and climbers get to see.

We climbed our first alpine-ish route.

And I think it's so cool that we were able to see a mountain, say "wouldn't it be cool if we could climb that"...  and then go do it.

liberty bell is the face on the right

Mazama Sport Climbing: The Perfect Rest Day

This is my perfect rest day:

...sport climbing (not too easy, not too hard)...

...hammock nap....

 ...catching the end of the rope after pulling it (beeeeeer!)...

...ice cream...

...river bath before it gets too cold...

...racking up for an adventure the next day...

...campfire and early bed.

Seriously, this day was THE PERFECT REST DAY.

Mazama isn't destination climbing, but it's a fine way to spend a day or two if you're in the area.  The rock is ok, the grades are soft, really nothing super special, but the approach from the parking area is <1 a="" href="http://www.goatsbeardmountainsupplies.com/" minute.="" nbsp="" o="" to="">Goat's Beard Mountain Supplies
in Mazama and buy a photocopy of the route topos for a few dollars on the way in, then buy ice cream at the Mazama store on the way out.  And enjoy your rest day!

Early Season Hiking in the North Cascades

After the Olympic peninsula, we turned east and started heading home.  I always notice that point in the trip - when I am the farthest away - and that first step that takes me back the way I came.

That step took us through Seattle.

Like, literally, through.  We drove right through and didn't stop.  Yeah, it's cool, and it's a city and it just wasn't that interesting. I did see the Spacey Needle from the ferry, which was all I wanted.

On to the North Cascades!

The North Cascades are AWESOME because there is NO way to experience them from your car. The drive through Rt. 20 shows tall green hills - and that's it.  The landscape is SO rugged that it's simply impossible to build roads through it (like Nepal!).  The mountains reveal themselves only to hikers, climbers, and skiiers.  In contrast to Yosemite Valley, the North Cascades is one of the least frequented National Parks.  Le sigh.

not building a road across that for sure.

The downside to the ruggedness of the landscape and the higher altitude?  Most everything is still snowbound.  Axe and crampons and the experience to use them properly are strongly recommended, if not required.  None of which we had packed in The Matrix's turtle shell top.

we did not cook dinner at this trailhead. because we could not get to the trailhead.

We were able to do two moderate day hikes (9-10 miles, 2-3000 feet elevation gain):  Cascade Pass and Fourth of July Pass.

Cascade Pass takes you past up to the shoulder of Johannesburg Peak and/or The Triplets (don't have a map at the moment) and gives you views of the Pelton Basin.

johannesburg panorama

The hike itself is super easy.  I like how these western trailbuilders use switchbacks.  No erosion, and you can chug along at a steady pace.  Adirondacks, take note!

The last switchback had several snowfields, one of which covered a talus slope.

this was a little sketchy

We had microspikes, and I had poles.  It was late in the day and the snow was mush, so Dave punched down steps for me, and we were fine.

And we got views like this:

looking into pelton basin

at the foot of the triplets (?)

On the bright side, because it's so early in the season, we were able to hike the most popular trail in the park without seeing more than a half-dozen people.  Score!

The next day, we hiked up to Fourth of July Pass.  This is a lower pass, and we didn't encounter any snow at all.  But holy switchbacks: this trail was pretty steep, and we had The Day Three Blues (third consecutive day of hiking to mountain passes = tired legs).

holy switchbacks batman

From the top, you get some nice views of the Neve Glacier and Klawatti Peak and Klawatti Glacier.

klawatti peak and glacier

neve glacier

Honestly, it wasn't as pretty as Cascade Pass.  The color of Thunder Creek was so cool, though - a pearly turquoise green blue.  The glaciers grind down the mountains to dust, and this "rock flour" gives the water it's color.

neat color, eh?

I'd love to come back here when there is either a) less snow (=awesome backpacking) or b) more snow and the right gear.

Slowing Down on the Olympic Peninsula

The first few weeks of this trip were really hectic.  We'd hike or climb during the day, then drive, finding a place to crash when the sun was low in the sky.  Dave set camp while I cooked; we'd eat, clean up, and crash.  In the morning, the tent came down as the sun came up, and we were on to the next adventure.  With the big Yosemite adventure smack dab in the middle of the calendar, we had so many places to visit, and so little time left.  So we'd go faster and harder.

It rained in Washington.  Not very hard - but constantly.  Big mountains hid in the clouds, and I never did see Rainier, except the visitor's center diorama.  

I spent a few days damp to my core, wrapped in layers of fleece, trying to stay warm.  The car smelled like wet hiking socks, slug mucus, and last night's rice and beans.  All of our gear was sitting in puddles of water in contractor bags.

tent floating in 3-4 inches of water

It was mildly miserable, just uncomfortable enough to make us realize that our deeper discomfort from constant running-running-running-faster was totally self-inflicted.

tent covered in 3-4 inch banana slugs

The Olympic peninsula wasn't on our original itinerary.  But people kept mentioning it, again and again, with intensity.  It was special, they said.

A special rainforest is a good place to wait out the rain.

Time to slow down on the Olympic peninsula.

There's nothing to see except what's close to the ground.

There's nothing to do except that which we are doing right now.

There is time to look at moss.

There is time to count the blades on a fern.

There is time to stand in the rain.

ruby beach

There is time to be with wildflowers.

There is time to make friends with a slug.

There is time to hike ten miles up to a mountain pass, even when you know you won't see anything in the clouds at the top.

There are plenty of mossy green streams on the way up for your eyes.

We camped in the Olympic National Forest,

...walked along Ruby Beach,

......took 2 hours to meander the ¾ mile “Hall of Mosses” trail at the Hoh Rainforest, and

.........hiked to Marmot Pass on the east side of the peninsula.

And I can say I agree with every person who mentioned this place.  It's special, very special.