Straight from the Dead Dog Couloir and Mt Edwards with only a lunch and hardware stop I arrived at the Mayflower Gulch trailhead plenty early. I had time to enjoy a beer, repack for the next adventure and replace the spring clip of my crampons with fresh bolts and lock nuts. Life was good, the sun was shinning and I talked to a few hikers and skiers returning from their own trips.
Well before the appointed meeting time the rest of the group showed up. Kurt was leading a CMC trip to Pacific Peak’s North Couloir and the plan was to backpack into a base camp on the western side of the mountain. Tomorrow we’d traverse a little ways then drop into the Mohawk Lakes basin and climb the couloir. To get back to camp we’d climb over the top of Atlantic Peak and descend the west ridge.
The six of us made last-minute decisions on gear and clothing then left behind the cars.
We followed the road a brief ways before crossing to the north side of the creek and began looking for a good route around Mayflower Hill.
It was a warm afternoon and the packs were heavy with snow and ice climbing equipment. Two of our group were even carrying skis. At least a cool wind was blowing and the scenery spectacular.
Our thoughts of staying low around Mayflower Hill disappeared as steep talus slopes appeared and the best route seemed to be up and over the top of the hill.
This route did provide an advanced look at our likely camping location and we didn’t need to loose too much elevation to get there. We did have to watch out for cornices on the north side of the hill and found plenty of soft snow to posthole nearly to our waists.
After exploring the flat area southwest of Pacific Peak we eventually found some dry and mostly flat terrain to setup camp. We made plans for a 6:30a start tomorrow and enjoyed dinner before turning in.
I woke up once in the night and was rewarded with an amazing view of the night’s stars and a shooting star. When dawn finally came the clear skies had persisted and morning light shone off the mountains to our west.
On schedule we left camp and headed north on a rising traverse towards the saddle between Pacific and Crystal Peaks.
The snow was frozen hard and we kicked small steps into the slanted surface to make progress. In between bands of snow were fields of loose rocks that we carefully picked our way across.
So we reached the sunlight and the saddle.
From here we had a great view of our objective – the north couloir of Pacific Peak.
As the only continuous band of snow on the face, it was obvious and looked like a great route. We put on crampons here, as well as our harnesses and dropped down from the saddle, down climbing the first 50 feet or so.
Once we’d lost enough elevation to avoid some cliffs, we traversed across the softening snow to the base of the couloir.
Here we took a break to remove layers in the hot sun and prepare to climb upwards. The couloir wasn’t steep enough to require roping up yet, so we took turns leading and breaking trail for the rest of the group.
Kurt directed us to stop where the route dog legged to the left and we perched below some rocks while we roped up and passed Kurt all the pickets and the handful of ice screws we’d been carrying.
The snow was soft enough that it was unlikely we’d need those screws, but the pickets would be perfect in this snow. Kurt would lead the first rope of 3 and I would take the second. He’d leave all the protection (pickets) in place so there really wasn’t much required to my leading.
We moved in and out of the sun as we climbed the deeply inset gully. The snow was soft enough that I would mostly plunge my axe shafts into the snow, only rarely was it solid enough to require a swing of the ice pick itself.
Above Kurt had already reached the top of the couloir and I was surprised how short this steep section had been. Soon the tail end of his rope team was disappearing over the top.
When I reached the top I found Kurt had a comfortable seat to belay from so I passed him the rope and let him bring up Diana and Steve.
Once everyone was up we could untie from the rope and pack away harnesses. The summit was only a short scramble from the top of the couloir.
Once on top we took a long break and admired the views.
We discussed the route down, which involved descending then climbing up to Atlantic Peak’s summit and then moving west to reach a snow field. In describing features on the mountain, Pete referred to the snowfield we’d descend as “It’s pretty broad, isn’t it?” I picked up on a double entendre and asked if he was calling the snowfield a “pretty broad”. And that’s what we called the feature from then on.
Our rest over, we started the descent down Pacific’s south side.
In between Pacific and Atlantic we found a small bump on the ridge. I toyed with naming it “Mediterranean Peak” but other names were tossed out as possibilities: Gulf of Mexico Peak, Indian Ocean Peak, Panama Canal Peak, etc.
The climb from “Mediterranean” to Atlantic was just a long snow slog. Kick a few times into the snow to make a step and stand up. Repeat and repeat again until we all marched up for another welcome break.
We found the top of the west ridge and followed it down until we could drop off through some loose rocks and reach the Pretty Broad snowfield.
From the top of the snowfield 4 of sat down and glissaded down to the base. A picket hanging down from my pack acted as a brake on my speed and the snow wedgie I ended up with prevented this from being my favorite glissade ever.
Our skiers clipped into their bindings and we looked back to watch them make turns down as we hiked back to camp.
As we approached our dry island camp the snow proved extremely soft and Kurt and I started postholing with each step. With 10 feet of rotten snow left to traverse, Kurt crawled on top of the snow while I evolved a rolling method of locomotion and dizzily arrived at camp.
Tents were stowed away and backpacks assumed their original, heavy shape in preparation for our return to civilization. We followed the Pacific Creek drainage directly hoping to snowshoe for as far as possible.
Eventually we had to take off the snowshoes and gingerly pick our way along the loose slopes back to the main drainage.
One last major obstacle presented itself – the willows. No good route existed, so we just bashed our way through these annoying plants.
Finally, we reached the road – even mostly snow covered as it was it would still take us back to the trailhead.
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