With aspirations for alpine objectives in the area, uncooperative and slow-to-improve weather forced a change in vacation plans for us poor souls stuck in Squamish, BC. Tony and Dave had already high-tailed it back home to salvage what was left of their time off from work while Aaron and I shifted priorities and focused on the obvious. A seasoned Squamish climber; in my eyes anyway, Aaron gave me what amounted to a grand tour of greater Squamish over the course of several days. From dirt bag-style camping on the spit, breakfasts at Whitespot, 'reconnaissance' of the Squamish River cable tram (i.e. a doomed attempt on an East Ridge of Alpha) and of course rock climbing, I saw a side of Squamish that I'd otherwise never have had the opportunity to experience.

Full report here.

Aaron and I paired-up for another go at an Oregon Volcano, this time Mt. Jefferson. I had wanted to revisit the Jefferson Park Glacier route, but given that Tom and I had essentially climbed the headwall above the glacier to the saddle on a previous attempt, I had a hankering to explore a different side of the peak and so we somehow convinced ourselves to give the Milk Creek West Ridge route a try instead.

It is a moderately interesting route...when covered in snow (I can't imagine what a horror show it must be when devoid of snow). Probably the most direct route to summit, the West Ridge has some of the character of a mini-Liberty Ridge climb - for the portion below Thumb Rock anyway. Unfortunately, the snow was warm, wet and very sloppy and only got worse the higher we got. It was 100+ degrees at the Detroit Ranger station the Saturday before the climb and it continued to remain uncomfortably warm at our 7000-ft camp that night. This did not bode well for the finish on the rimed-up summit pinnacle.

Full report here.

With more ambitious plans dashed thanks to the predicted afternoon rain, Scott and I set our sights on something attainable and to take care of some unfinished business (for Scott anyway). Back to Mt. Rainier to ski/ride the Nisqually Chutes by way of Camp Muir. Neither of us has been up to Muir in several years, so a return visit was long overdue. Three hours up, a short wait for Scott, lunch in the new climber's shelter and then it was time for the descent. Upon reaching the chute's entrance, I saw evidence of a rather sizeable avalanche that had run down the gut. No matter though, as there was ample room on either side of the debris swath to carve...and carve until my thighs were on fire, and yet it still wasn't over. No butt-checks like last time either, just endless, carve-able corn. The skies finally unleashed shortly before we returned to the small basin below Pan Point on the skin back out, but this did little to affect the stoke. A final short descent back to the parking lot and off to the Scaleburger in Elbe for some artery-clogging goodness!