It was our third day camped out in the headwaters of Crystal Creek. We were as close to the edge of the permit zone of the Enchantment Basin, in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, as we could get. Two days ago we had left Leavenworth with 50+ pound packs, loaded with food, fuel, and enough climbing equipment to keep us busy for over a week. The awkward and oversized packs barely fit in our bicycle trailers and the thought of flat tires was a real threat on my mind. We reached the trailhead without incident, and began the slog-fest to the high peaks above. The 10+ mile approach took about 9 hours, and I was happy we made for an early start when around 5 o’clock in the evening we found a suitable spot, hidden, out of the way, and near abundant fresh water. My ass had suffered, with at least one spot rubbed raw by the oversized expedition pack I was carrying. Without a scale I’ll never know exactly how much my pack weighed, but my earlier excitement with carrying two ropes, 9 days of food, a tent, bag, and daypack had turned into happiness that I hadn’t injured myself carrying all this gear that most likely topped out at over 70 lbs, and was, hopefully, the heaviest pack I’ll ever carry.
Mucho Comida
We made it, and after establishing our basecamp and feeling the reality of our alpine surroundings sink in, the deliverance from the smokey surroundings of the valley below, I was content to relax, read, and rest for at least a few hours before tackling the numerous climbing objectives that surround us that hung like fruit from a tree, ripe for the picking. Although rest and recovery was on our mind, we were willing to take a carefree hike with a daypack, stretch our legs and take in some unbroken 360 views. The next day we walked to the top of nearby Little Annapurna Peak, scoping all the clean lines and jagged ridges put forward as offering from the mountains, trying to descide which to accept, which to attempt.
As I took in these views and appreciated the mountains as a boy would admire a beautiful woman, the answer to that age old question, why we climb, seemed so obvious. The mountains inspire us, of course.
The next day we made a very quick lap up the west ridge of Prusik. After a month ofrafting, easier climbing, family affairs, and traveling, I wasn’t really feeling up for the send of my mind’s coveted goal of on-sighting Der Sportsman, the hardman testpiece following the most dramatic and intimidating arete up Prusik’s south face. Better to enjoy a week in the mountains then hobble home early after an ankle banging whipper 10 miles back in the mountains. Knowing when to say no is hard, backing down and accepting you’re not ready is harder for this ego driven sport we love. So we simul-shredded up the easy ridge very quickly, placing minimal gear and taking in a view that was quite a lot smokier then when we stood on top just days ago with Scott.
With all day to take in the grandeur of McClellan Peak (Big Mac as I’ll affectionately refer to it from here out), and our camp overlooking the magnificent, frightening, and entrancing Nightmare Needles, Liz and I decided the next day we would attempt a route up the south side of McClellan, climbing on or over the Nightmare Needle Ridge to get there.
Backstory complete, there we were, day three, when the day dawned we made our way further down Crystal Creek, awed at the immense walls of stone slashing skyward on either side. We chose a 3rd and 4th class sub-ridge and gully system that started around 6000 feet and lead to the Nightmare Ridge just above the the Three Feathers. The day was warm and the smoke was expanding, with fires from nearby Table Mountain blowing smoke up Ingalls Creek and shrouding the intimidating ridge in an erie haze.
We Made quick work of the first thousand feet or so, eager to get above the smoke. But just short of the actual ridge the terrain steepened abruptly and we climbed 200 feet or so of 5th class before making the call to switch out our boots for climbing shoes and break out the rope.
We led a pitch, more of a traverse almost, to the ridge proper, where I realized how impossible following the crest would be. I took the opportunity to stand on a nameless point, happy with the progress we’d made and psyched with Liz’s determination top continue on to the top by dropping down to the east and following the maze of gullies and slabs that weave through towers to the summit of Big Mac.
So we slung a horn and made a rappel into unknown territory, transitioning back to boots and continuing our scramble towards the summit. Collectively, miles of vertical stone erupted around us, and while I was eager to explore this unknown terrain, the drive to get to the summit was great, so we marched on, linking gully to gully and eventually topping out on another ridge only to see we had another thousand feet or so of scrambling to go before we could reach the top of Big Mac.
After climbing and hiking all morning in the heat and through the smoke, my water was desperately depleted, and we were unsure weather or not to continue to the summit, or drop over to the north to find a melting snowpatch to replenish our liquids. Fortunately for us, as we made our way for the broad, east-west ridge that is home to Big Mac and the Four Chessman, we came accross a splendid little pond in which to fill our stomachs, soak our feet, and bathe our limbs. After frolicking in the little pool and drying in the sun, we continued on, this time directly toward the summit, feeling refreshed and rejuvinated.
The terrain looked steeper and looser then it was, and again we made quick work of the mostly 3rd class terrain, topping out on the summit in under an hour after leaving the pond.
Once on the summit we took in the view, obscured by smoke as it was. This proved to be the smokiest day of the trip, with haze filling the Enchantment Basin below and the view toward Leavenworth looking like a bad version of a Salt Lake winter inversion. We ate, we signed the register, and I snapped some photos before we started our way down the north west side back towards camp.
Our first big adventure of the trip and we were both stoked. Amazing scenery and terrain. Pretty sure not many folks venture back into the terrain of the Nightmare Needles, we felt lucky to have traveled some of this unforgiving terrain, glimpsing its intimidating reality and vast potential.
We had days of food left and were just getting warmed up, we cooked some dinner and settled into our bags for the night, the dreams of tomorrow were already on our mind. Tired and sore but ready for more…what’s next?
