Mount Redoubt and Easy Mox Winter Ascents

Mount Redoubt and Easy Mox

First Winter Ascent of Easy Mox, Second Winter Ascent of Redoubt.

Jan 17-21, 2025

42 miles hiking, 37 miles boating

Eric and Nick

Jan 17 – double carry boat, motor, gear from Ross Dam trailhead to Frontage Road, sleep at trailhead
Jan 18 – Carry remaining gear to boat, drag on wheels down Frontage Road, boat up lake 18 miles to Silver Creek, bushwhack to Silver Lake, hike to basecamp below west face of Solitude Peak
Jan 19 – Climb Redoubt via south face (M1, steep snow, two roped pitches), return to camp
Jan 20 – Climb Easy Mox via NE Ridge (M3, simulclimbed most of route), rap down south face to Col of the Wild, return to camp
Jan 21 – Hike out, boat back, double carry boat up to trailhead

Some of the most difficult peaks in Washington to climb in winter are located in the Chilliwack range of the North Cascades, near the Canada border. These are in fact likely the most difficult peaks to climb in winter in the entire contiguous US. Access is extremely difficult, weather is notoriously bad, snow conditions are rarely stable with unavoidable avalanche terrain, the peaks are technical, requiring ice and mixed climbing, and beta is scarce. Most peaks in this area have not previously been climbed in winter.

I’m working on a project to climb all the Washington Bulgers (hundred highest peaks) in winter, and six of these peaks are in the Chilliwacks. This is the crux subset of project.

I’ve spent several years in preparation for winter ascents in this area. I’ve previously climbed all the Bulger peaks in the summer, and that is critical but still not sufficient for success in winter. The first challenge is simply accessing the Chilliwacks area in winter. I’m following a rule that all ascents must be made legally, so I won’t sneak into the area from Canada. Starting in Fall 2020 I began scouting out the optimal winter approach to the area.

The closest trailheads are Hannegan Pass and Ross Dam, but these require 20-30 mile hikes on trails that are likely snowed over and unbroken. I skied up the Hannegan Pass trail in December 2020, and learned that the last 5 miles of road to that trailhead is closed to snowmobiles in winter, so the approach is even longer. I hiked the approach from Ross Dam in November 2020, and assessed each of those approaches would likely take multiple days in winter.

One option to save time and reduce the approach to a single day is to take a water taxi up Ross Lake to Little Beaver or Silver Creek and bushwhack up from there. However, the Ross Lake Resort water taxi does not run in winter. Ross Lake has no public road access, so getting a motor boat to the lake is challenging. In November 2020 I packrafted the length of Ross Lake, and that took a full day and is highly dependent on wind conditions. That would be unreliable in winter. I considered a canoe, but that is also highly dependent on wind conditions and is too risky for capsizing in winter.

Finally I settled on taking a zodiac boat with outboard motor up Ross Lake. The boat is wide enough to be stable in heavy wind and waves, with enough capacity to haul hundreds of pounds of gear. It can be deflated into manageable loads of a 70lb boat and 60lb motor. Each can be strapped to a backpack if needed. Ross Lake is in the unique situation where it is connected to a lower lake, Diablo, by road (Frontage Road), but the road is not connected to any other roads. Diablo Lake has road access, though.

I first did a practice trip in October 2022 where I launched the zodiac at Diablo Lake, boated to Frontage Road, then dragged the boat up Frontage Road on deployable wheels, then launched in Ross Lake. I boated up 15 miles to the Little Beaver takeout, then hiked and bushwhacked in to the Chilliwacks. That option depended on Frontage Road being snow free, though, which wasn’t guaranteed in winter.

I later did another practice trip where I double carried the deflated boat and motor down the 0.6 mile trail from the Ross Dam trailhead to Frontage Road, then dragged it down on wheels to Ross Lake. I settled on that as the optimal winter solution since the trail could be hiked in snow, and the boat could also be carried down the 0.5 mile road section in snow.

The boat has a 5hp outboard motor, which goes 5-6mph when fully loaded. This is as fast as you want to go on Ross Lake in winter, since the lake level is lowered enough that tree stumps stick out of the water (and sometimes are submerged just a few inches under water). The motor is 4-stroke propane, which is clean enough to meet the strict environmental regulations of the lake. The 5-gallon propane tank gives a 50-mile range for the fully-loaded zodiac boat. This is perfect for the ~40-mile round trip to Silver Creek with a little bit of safety factor. And I’ve been told be expert polar mechanics that propane is more reliable that gas for winter boating in sub freezing temperatures.

This boat access method meant the hiking access component could be shaved down to 10-15 miles, which made the peaks much more accessible. From Ross Lake there are three main drainages to access the Chilliwacks – Redoubt Creek, Perry Creek, and Silver Creek. I scouted out Perry Creek in October 2023 and made a practice climb of Hard Mox from that approach. Perry Creek provided good access for Hard Mox and Spickard and was accessed from the Little Beaver takeout 15 miles up Ross Lake.

Redoubt Creek is also accessed from the Little Beaver takout and provides access to Redoubt and Easy Mox. I was not able to scout this approach, though I heard from Cascades expert John Roper it has the most difficult bushwhacking of all the drainages.

Silver Creek provides access to Rahm and Custer and is on the north end of Ross Lake, and 18 mile boat ride up. I was not able to scout that approach, but have friends who had made the approach in summer.

With the approach logistics sorted out, the next step is waiting for six stars to align. There must be stable snow conditions, stable weather on the peaks, low wind on the lake, no ice on the lake, long weekend, and partner available.

In January 2023 Nick and I made an attempt on Hard Mox Peak with five out of six star apparently aligning. Unfortunately Ross Lake was iced over 0.5 miles before the takeout. We attempted to bushwhack the remaining distance to Little Beaver around the lake, but that took 6 hours and we eventually bailed. That’s when we learned the ice-free star absolutely had to align.

In February 2023 we returned when it appeared all six stars aligned. We made it up the first pitch of Hard Mox, but then bad weather unexpectedly came in early and we bailed. Winds were high on Ross Lake and we nearly capsized navigating through whitecap waves in the middle of a stump forest. The low wind and stable weather stars were not in alignment.

In December 2023 all stars finally aligned, and we successfully climbed Hard Mox and Spickard via the Perry Creek approach. This was the first winter ascent of Hard Mox and the second winter ascent of Spickard. (The first winter ascent team for Spickard was Bond and Johnson in March 2023, approaching from Canada). On the return trip the outboard motor wouldn’t start, so Nick and I paddled back for nine hours. I couldn’t figure out the problem, so I bought a used gas outboard motor for the next attempt.

In February 2024 all six stars aligned and Josh and and I went for Rahm and Custer. But the gas motor failed to start (I later learned residue from ethanol fuel in the used tank I’d purchased had made its way into the carburator and clogged it). One oar lock also broke because it got brittle in the cold. We ended up paddling 10 hours up lake to Silver Creek anyways, using a ski strap to fix the oar lock, then bushwhacked up and still climbed both peaks. We then paddled out 10 hours back. I subsequently started carrying spare oar locks on trips.

By January 2025 I had just two winter Chilliwack Bulger peaks remaining – Easy Mox and Redoubt. I had made eight trips up Ross Lake with the zodiac by then either climbing Bulgers in winter or doing practice trips. That month I was fortunate enough to meet Stephen, an expert polar mechanic. He got the propane and gas outboard motors back in working order, so I was good to go back on Ross Lake whenever the stars aligned. After all of these winter trips on Ross I learned a few lessons about the motors. For the propane motor it cannot be carried upside down, it is necessary to use an aluminum tank instead of steel so no rust gets in the fuel line, and the fuel line must be disonnected and excess pressure released before leaving the boat for days on shore in freezing conditions. This prevents liquid fuel from entering the system, freezing, and messing up components. The gas motor absolutely cannot touch ethanol fuel.

With the boat motor fixed I started doing research on Easy Mox and Redoubt. The shortest approach would be Redoubt Creek, but that also was supposedly the most difficult bushwhack so might actually take the longest. In theory the peaks could be accessed from Perry Creek if we could cross Col of the Wild. However, in December 2023 we noticed the Perry Glacier was melted down significantly from historical levels. This meant accessing the col required climbing a pitch of downsloping snow-covered slab and surpassing tricky cornices. So that approach was likely out.

The Silver Creek approach was the longest distance-wise. However, from February 2023 I learned that there is an old trail the first few miles to an abandoned cabin. Beyond that the bushwhack is easy through mostly open forest. That would likely be the optimal approach, with predictable timing to Silver Lake. We would then cross to the Lake Ouzel cirque and access the peaks from there.

For the routes I researched that Mt Redoubt had previously seen one winter ascent in February 1977 by Barely and Rowatt via the NE Face. They approached from Canada. I had previously climbed the standard south face route in summer, and I suspected that would in fact be the easiest winter route. But it crossed long stretches of steep snow and required very stable conditions.

Easy Mox had never been climbed in winter, and I wasn’t sure what the optimal route was. I’d previously climbed the standard NE Ridge route in July, and that is the least technical route. However, it requires climbing one slab pitch to gain the ridge, and that might be sketchy if only thinly covered in snow. Also, the ridge looked corniced in February 2024 when I saw it from Custer and Rahm. However, in December 2023 it was not corniced when I saw it from Hard Mox. So it was possible it would be climbable in late December or January.

Another option was the southeast face route directly from Col of the Wild. This was more direct and not corniced. However, the upper section is slabs that might be sketchy if thinly snow covered. Finally, the west ridge route was a possibility. The only known ascent was the first ascent in 1964, but it appeared to be only a few pitches, though likely the most technical of all the routes.

By mid January it appeared all six stars would align over the long MLK day weekend. The snow was very stable with high pressure parked over Washington for the forseeable future and low wind over the weekend. Washington had experienced above-normal temperatures over the previous few weeks, and satellite images confirmed upper Ross Lake was completely ice-free. Nick and I decided to go for Easy Mox and Redoubt. Easy Mox was my crux remaining winter Bulger, and would be great to check off the list.

The Monday before the weekend I picked up the propane motor from Stephen up near Bellingham, and he did an amazing job getting it up and running. I did a test ride for a few miles in Lake Sammamish on Tuesday and everything worked fine with the boat. Our plan was to boat up to Silver Creek, then bushwhack in to a basecamp. We would climb Redoubt first since it was easier and would give us views of Easy Mox to plan out the route. We would then climb Easy Mox and hike and boat out. We would use snowshoes to avoid relying on a seventh star to align – skiable snow. On our first Hard Mox attempt we’d brought skis and bailed at Perry Creek when the snow conditions weren’t good for skiing. By using snowshoes we could plod up even if the snow was icy.

The only possible question mark was whether it would be getting too cold. The peaks were forecast to be between 5F – 15F, which was cold for technical climbing but doable since the wind was forecast to be low. However, at upper Ross Lake the lows were forecast to be around 15F-20F for multiple nights with low wind. That is the shallowest part of the lake, and with calm nights there was a risk it would freeze over. We could likely boat up on Saturday since that would be the first cold morning and the water would likely still be warm from the previous weeks. But there was a risk we’d return to the boat at the end of the trip and be blocked in by ice.

But, daytime temperatures were supposed to be slightly above freezing and we expected the sun would help melt any thin ice. So we decided to go for it. Worst case, if we got blocked by ice getting out we could hike around the north edge of the lake to Hozomeen and hike back out the 30 miles to Ross Dam down the east bank trail, which was likely snow-free. That would not be ideal, of course.

Friday

Friday I set my NWAC-scraping Python code running to send me daily avalanche forecasts to my inreach. Then we loaded up in my truck and drove to the Ross Dam trailhead by 4pm. That evening we made two carries of loads down to Frontage Road – the first load was the boat and boat accessories bag, the second was the motor and propane. We then inflated the boat and got it set up for a quick getaway.

I considered storing the propane tank in the truck overnight to keep it warm, but we decided it would be smarter to leave it out in the cold. This would be the coldest temperatures I’d ever run the motor (~15F). If it started up in the morning from being that cold, we’d have confidence that it would also start up for our return trip. But if I kept the propane in the truck over night we wouldn’t get that data point. We did, however, put the propane tank in a duffle bag next to the boat overnight to protect it from frost, and wrapped a tarp around the motor to keep it a little warmer.

We slept in the truck that night at the Ross Dam trailhead, and were the only ones there all night.

Saturday

Our plan was to hopefully make it all the way to basecamp on Redoubt Glacier by Saturday evening, so we needed to start early. However, boating in the dark was risky because of the submerged stumps on Ross Lake. From all my trips on Ross I know the problem areas at different water levels. The water height is controlled by dam operators based on the energy needs of the greater Seattle area, and this varies throughout the year and is hard to predict. But it is published online by USGS (https://waterdata.usgs.gov/monitoring-location/12175000/#dataTypeId=continuous-00065-1922206742&period=P7D&showMedian=false). My usual strategy is to compare current lake level to past levels when I’ve boated on Ross.

This weekend was 1564ft, which was 5ft higher than in February 2024 when I’d boated up to Silver Creek. On that trip the only problem areas for stumps had been Devil’s Creek and Silver Creek. (For reference, when it is below 1550ft there are many more problem areas throughout the lake, both near the shore and in the middle, down lake and up lake, and this is very scary at night). With this water height it was ok to boat in the dark until Devil’s Creek, but we wanted daylight beyond that. I’ve previously tried boating with super bright off-roading headlights connected to a motorcycle battery on the front of the boat. But it seems like Ross Lake is always so foggy at night in winter that visibility still isn’t great, even with the special yellow fog lights. That battery is really heavy, so we’d bring two smaller bike lights instead. They could last a few hours on the highest setting, which would be sufficient. And we’d be boating through safe areas at night anyways, so it should be ok.

This meant we got packed up to go at 4:00am. Just before leaving I remembered to set up four mouse traps in the truck. Ross Dam is one of the top ten mousiest trailheads in the state, and I usually come back to find mouse poop in the car if I don’t set up traps.

We ferried the last load of climbing gear down to Frontage Road, then loaded up the boat. We put the gear as far back as possible over the wheels, then rigged up a climbing rope on front so we could both drag it down the road. It’s important for our steps to be synchronized when walking for maximum efficiency.

Down at the lake edge we wheeled the boat around the resort truck parked there, and we were grateful that it was far enough to the side to allow us to squeeze by (this is not always the case). We  layed the big tarp in the boat, then put the two packs in. Then we put a bag of sharp objects (snowshoes, ice tools, poles, crampons) double duffled on top, not touching the boat at all. We then folded the tarp over top and strapped it down with bungees. This would protect the gear from water spray in case we encountered heavy waves.

We each layered up, put on our dry suits, put on life vests, then put down jackets over everything. Nick wore his 6000m Scarpa double boots and I wore my 8000m Olympus Mons double boots. We knew the boat ride would be about 3.5 hours sitting in the cold, so needed to dress as warm as possible. I got in first, then Nick got in and pushed us off. I retracted the wheels, then rowed out into the middle of the lake and tried to start the motor.

It was very reluctant to start, likely because of the cold. I would do 15 pulls, then rest, then repeat, then rest. This went on for about 10 minutes. I started talking about backup options, but then it finally started! One trick is that it needs to be a very sudden jerk for the pull, not just a slow continuous pull. By 5:30am we were finally cruising up the lake.

I started out slow so we could make it through the water bar. The resort strings up a bunch of floating logs as a wave break, and there’s one narrow gap for boats to squeeze through. If you were cruising up at night it would be very easy to not see the logs and crash into them. The gap gets moved to different locations every time I go there, so I had no idea where it was. Luckily they place reflective cones on each end, though. This day it was on the far north side.

We carefully made our way through, then on the other side I turned the motor up to max and we reached cruising speed of 5.7mph. I’ve gotten pretty familiar with all the features of the lake over the years. We soon rounded Cougar Island, and I resisted the urge to cut through the gap with the shore since the submerged stumps were risky there. We went past Roland point, and Big Beaver on the left, with Pumpkin Mountain sticking up in the dark. We then rounded rainbow point and then reached the bridge over Devils Creek just as the sun was coming up.

Luckily there were no stump problems, but we had enough daylight by then to see at least. We beelined to Tenmile Island, then past Lightning Creek and on to Cat Island. Beyond that we started encountering wind and waves that were apparently coming out of the Little Beaver valley. This was unexpected, and we got sprayed with water as the boat cut through the waves. It was so cold the water instantly froze into verglass on our jackets and on the boat. Luckily the wind was localized and by Jack point it had died down again.

Finally, we could see the fan-shaped outlet of Silver Creek. I wanted to land as close as possible to the campground, but it was located on the north side of the fan. We could see the lake ended just north of that, with many stumps sticking out. That meant shallow water with a higher risk of freezing over, and also more danger from stumps. So at 9am we landed on the south end of the fan where the water was deeper and less risky.

We quickly unloaded and left all the boat supplies in a duffle in the boat. We wrapped the motor in a tarp to protect it, then I disconnected the fuel line and used a screw driver to depress a valve to release excess gas. We then put the propane tank in a black duffle so the sun could help warm it.

After a 10 minute walk through beach covered in 5ft tall stumps we reached the official Silver Creek campground. It had a dock that I don’t think has seen water in years (judging by all the grass growing around it). We had a quick snack at the picnic table and left a little bit of food in the bear box, then headed out at 10am. Our packs were very heavily loaded with snowshoes, double boots, and ice tools strapped on the outside.

Based on my previous trip I knew the optimal route up Silver Creek was to cross near the outlet to the north side, then pick up the old miners trail. We carefully tiptoed over icy rocks and frosty logs, and made it into the woods on the north side. I had my previous GPS track loaded on my watch and soon picked up the old trail. The woods are generally very open, and the trail long ago abandoned, but the trail still allows for quicker progress than bushwhacking.

We cruised up the trail for a few hours and hit snow starting around 2500ft. Shortly after that the trail disappeared at the old cabin site. Unfortunately the cabin got smashed in by a tree and is now just a few wall sections providing no shelter. Beyond the cabin the woods are generally open and travel easy. The ground soon got icy enough that we ditched our hiking boots in a bag tied to a tree and switched to double boots and crampons.

The snow eventually got deep enough to switch to snowshoes around 3000ft, but the snow was consolidated enough to not be difficult trail breaking. We took turns and by 3:30pm we reached the head of the valley at the base of the cliffs below Silver Lake. Here we roughly followed my February route, which was to climb up the right side of the drainage following the lowest-angle treed slopes. We got halfway up in snowshoes, then continued in crampons as the terrain steepened and the snow got more firm.

Darkness set in half way up, and we continued breaking trail through mostly consolidated snow on the south-facing slopes. By 7:30pm we crested the outlet of Silver Lake and stopped to top off our water bottles in the surprisingly unfrozen outflow. That would have been a nice place to camp, but would not be close enough to our objectives.

We switched to snowshoes and continued across the frozen lake and up through the Spickard-Custer col. On the other side we dropped down to 7000ft and traversed on low-angle slopes to the base of the west face of Solitude, just before the Redoubt Glacier started. We decided that was close enough to be our base camp, and it would be nice to have a camp not on a glacier so we wouldn’t have to worry about crevasses as much. So we dropped our gear at 9:30pm and set up the mega mid tent. So far everything was going very smoothly and mostly according to plan.

Sunday

We left camp the next morning at 7am and roped up for the Redoubt Glacier. We generally stayed on the shoulder at 7000ft traversing underneath Solitude and past Easy Mox. Interestingly, we noticed the slab pitches up to the Easy Mox – Solitude col were covered in snow, which meant that might be a viable route option. Also, the northeast ridge appeared to be uncorniced. We kept that in mind for selecting our Easy Mox route.

We transitioned between crampons and snowshoes, but never sunk in the snow too much. Within a few hours we reached Redoubt Col and our first sunshine of the day. Beyond the col we unroped and scrambled through the rocky gap between Redoubt and Redoubt southeast peaks. On the other side we traversed steep snow slopes and decided to ditch the snowshoes and poles. As expected, the steep south facing slopes were well consolidated making for very secure cramponing.

We continued to the middle of the base of the south face, then I led the way kicking steps up with both technical tools out. Around 7900ft when the slope angle eased I traversed left over a ridge then continued up on lower angle slopes. By then clouds rolled in and it started lightly snowing. So much for the sunny weather forecast. I think in the Chilliwacks you always have to round the weather forecast a bit worse than expected.

I had last climbed Redoubt in 2018, so my memory of the route was a bit rusty. But Nick had just climbed it in summer 2024 and rememberd the route. He led the way up the appropriate gully on the right. (I’m not sure if this is the normal route, but it certainly worked). By 8500ft we encountered a cliff band, and we did a few mixed moves hooking rocks to climb up and traverse left through it. We then encountered a complex set of snow/ice gullies leading up.

In general we climbed up and left, linking gullies together, and the climbing was fun and secure. With umbilicals on the two tools I was always connected to the mountain. Finally we traversed left to a broad gully I remembered with a big cannon-hole rock at the top. We slung a hurn and Nick belayed me acrass and up into the cannon hole. This section was 5th class in summer but was covered in snow now and no problem.

I found a rap anchor under a chockstone and belayed Nick up. I then passed him the gear and he got the honors for the last pitch. Nick climbed over the chockstone and pass through the canonhole to the north face, then led a short pitch up to the summit. I followed, and was blasted with wind. We both topped out at 1:30pm, and wrapped a cord aroun the snowed-over summit cairn for an anchor.

Our timing was just as planned, to be doing the techincal pitches during the warmest time of day. The views were amazing of British Columbia to the north, Bear Mountain to the south, and the Moxes to the east. The wind surprisingly eased up enough that we hung out for 5 minutes admiring the view. Then we started planning our retreat.

Nick remembered a rap anchor on the south edge of the summit ridge, but I dug around and couldn’t find it. That’s a common problem in winter. So instead we slung the summit cairn and rapped off that. I think someone climbing in the summer will be surprised to find that anchor there, but in the winter it’s just as good or better than a snow bollard.

The rope barely reached the gully below. From there we slung another horn and did one more rappel down our ascent gully. We then downclimbed unroped, following our up tracks. The temperature felt surprisingly pleasant on the sunny south face with no wind, even though it was probably in the teens. We traversed back over the rock col, and then entered the shade. The wind picked up and it got significantly colder.

We roped back up at Redoubt col and returned back to camp through heavy wind that at times jostled us around. That was unfortunately not in the forecast. We got back by 7pm for a 12 hour day.

We had removed the poles from the mega mid tent and dropped it down to the ground so it wasn’t affected by the wind, but we knew it might struggle once we put it back up. So we spent an hour building solid 5ft tall snow walls around the tent. Fortunately the snow was compact enough to make excellent bricks. After melting a few liters of water we stuck in our earplugs to help with the flapping tent noise and soon got to bed.

Monday

Easy Mox was the crux of the trip and we knew it would require more techincal climbing. The temperature was still supposed to be cold, so we planned to hit the technical climbing during the middle of the day for maximum warmth. Based on the conditions we’d seen Saturday with the uncorniced NE ridge and snow leading to the col, we planned to climb the standard NE ridge route. I think the West Ridge might have been faster and more direct, but having never climbed it before it seemed like a lower chance of success with too many unknown variables.

We left camp at 7am again and broke trail over our windblown tracks back to the Redoubt Glacier. We kicked steps up to the edge of a bergschrund below the Solitude-Easy Mox col and ditched our poles and shovels there. I don’t recall this bergschrund existing in 2018, so it appears the glacier has been receeding significantly. Luckily there was a good snow bridge on the right side, but I bet late season that is difficult to cross.

I took the first pitch, crossing the bergschrund ont the right then traversing way left to a rock outcrop to get a piece in. The snow got very thin at times on the slab, and I was careful to work around those sections. We shortened the rope to 15m for efficiency and simul climbed up, always making sure to have a piece between us. I eventually topped out at the col and belayed Nick up.

Amazingly, there were fresh mountain goat tracks leading up the ridge in the snow! They came from farther towards Solitude, but I’m not sure how the goat accessed the ridge. The lower ridge was covered in deep snow but was not corniced. I know that will likely change later in the winter, as I observed last February. In summer the ridge is class 3/4 and easy to scramble solo, but there was enough snow and ice that we decided to simul climb it.

We lengthened the rope a bit and Nick took over, trying to always keep a piece of pro between us. The ridge was very fun, with great views of Hard Mox and Lemolo to the left and Lake Ouzel down to the right. The wind occasionally blew the rope over the ridge, and I had to be careful it didn’t get snagged. There were a few sections we stopped to belay, and I think the winter route differed from the summer route here.

Near the summit we dropped down to the south face to avoid a few gendarmes, and the slabs were well-covered in consolidated snow. This was an area we had been concerned about, but it turned out to be no problem. We finally reached the base of the crux pitch to get back on the NE ridge. Nick offered to lead, so I belayed him off a slung horn. The pitch was melted down to rock, so we climbed in crampons with the tools holstered. Nick ended up leading the whole way to the summit, and I followed. The pitch felt like M3 and was the crux of the route.

By 1:30pm, right on schedule, we topped out. It was amazing to finish my last winter Chilliwacks peak, and conditions had been perfect. We paused in the pleasant conditions to admire the view over to Hard Mox. Interestingly, this time the whole upper route on Hard Mox was melted down to rock. When Nick and I had climbed it in December 2023 it was plastered in rime ice and completely white.

We soon started planning our descent. We had originally planned to descend the NE ridge route, but that sounded sketchy now, requiring simul downclimbing long sections of ridge. It reminded me of descending the west ridge of Forbidden Peak in winter. That took just as long down as up and demanded a lot of care.

Another option, though, was to rap down the southeast face to the col of the wild and hike back from there. That sounded like a much faster and safer way down, and gave us a better chance of getting off the mountain in the daylight. Nick had just climbed the southeast face in summer 2024 and remembered it well. He even had the foresight to leave to solid rap anchors in case we needed them in the winter. That was the fastest and safest option, so we went for it.

From the summit we soloed down to an existing rap anchor, then rapped down to our slung horn that we’d left our packs at. From there we did a somewhat complicated and non-obvious route of traversing, downclimbing, and traversing back between different snow gullys. If Nick hadn’t recently done that decent I wouldn’t have tried it, but he remembered it well.

We soon reached an anchor he’d left and rapped down over an ice bulge. We had to leave one new anchor to rap a short distance to a ledge, then were able to traverse across back above the col. We did one more rap off an existing anchor to a lower ledge, then Nick tunneled a path through the snow on a very exposed ledge. Finally we downclimbed a short 5th class step and got back to the col.

It took about 2.5 hours down, and we still had daylight. We traversed around back to Redoubt Col as the sun set, then followed our tracks back to camp a few hours after sunset. The wind had shifted to the north, so I spent some time fortifying another snow wall, before we went to bed.

Tuesday

We wanted to be back to the boat Tuesday early enough so we would have time to paddle out if absolutely necessary. So we were were up and moving by 4am. We made good time back to Silver Lake, which by now was scoured down to ice in the heavy wind. At the outlet we picked up our tracks and cramponed back down, reaching the 3400ft basin by sunrise. The bushwhack out went smoothly following our tracks, and we managed to exactly find our stashed hiking boots without issue.

After the cabin it felt great to switch back into the hiking boots, and we were back to Ross Lake by 11:30am. We ate a quick snack at the picnic table, then headed back to the boat.

There were a few patches of shoreline north of the boat covered in ice, but luckily the area near the boat was ice free. Our strategy of landing in the deeper water had paid off. By 12:30pm we had the boat loaded back up and we pushed off into the lake. Interestingly, the lake level appeared to have dropped by a foot or so in a few days we’d been out.

I rowed out until we were well-away from stump danger, then tried to start the motor. This time it started after only ten pulls! I think it helped that it was the warmest time of day, close to freezing, and the propane and motor had been heating up in the sun a while before we got there.

The lake was completely calm, and we cruised down making excellent time. After a few hours, though, the wind started picking up between Ten Mile Island and Rainbow point. I guess it’s not possible for every single star to align on a winter Chilliwacks trip, but they almost all did. The waves got big enough to spray us as they hit the boat, and I steered us closer to the east bank just in case we needed to escape to shore.

But the waves stayed manageable, and we made steady progress. I definitely appreciated the dry suit. Finally by 4pm we cruised through the water fence and landed on shore. We each did a bunch of jumping jacks to warm up, and stripped off our soaked dry suits. We made fast progress pulling the boat back up Frontage Road, then double carried the gear back up to the truck by 6:30pm.

All my mouse traps were empty, so I think the mice have different winter foraging grounds. We were soon driving back home at a surprisingly reasonable hour. The trip had gone amazingly according to plan.

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