Through swirling hazes of candy bar wrappers, granola bar crumbs, and sticky pockets of old snacks, I have spent most of my summer in mountain clothes – painfully dull in style, their only reprieve is function and application. Sixty-nine days between May and September, to be exact, and these are only the work days. I am not even counting my personal days. One of my good friends, Ezra, asks “Cal’ what do you do on your days off? How do you spend your time?” If one reads my bio on Alpine Ascents’ website, you learn of my cafe lurking habits. What exactly is accomplished during this cafe time escapes me; instead, what is done is indulge in the liquid-black gold, soft tunes, and evanescent people watching within the Emerald City. Historically, cafes have been a boon to my mood, psyche, and productivity for anything that demands laptop time. Cafes have also been great creative spots for all of my work. Something about the dynamic jumble prevails in my mind from overthinking into a spiral of moods. Or perhaps my brain functions more acutely when I can write my thoughts down, forcing me to pump the mental breaks. If you know me personally, you will know I tend to talk fast and mumble. Leaning into previous methods of decompression, writing has been something I have always been fond of. Fantasizing of honing my oratory skills, something about a verbal lexicon has always piqued my brain. Admittedly, I must also thank my brother Owen for indulging in writing and pursuing an MFA. It has been some time since I have enjoyed a good mental brain vomit, and frankly, I have yearned to reflect on my trips with more fervor. Too much has happened and past this summer to warrant no summary. Perhaps this will be a return to form or a rounding out of my current form. Considering the raw amount of time I spend in the physical world, moving rope, giving commands, consuming food, packing in and out of bags, writing, and reflecting will round out my thoughts. Shaping visions and epiphanies so I may feel more fulfilled and more significant than these demolished candy bar wrappers and Mountain Project ticks. Considering the rough fifty days worked thus far, I reckon the best place to start is on my most recent work trip – The Inspiration Glacier.
This post is a breakaway from my traditional ones. I want to extrapolate my experiences as an Indigenous mountain guide while reflecting on the actual guiding/ mountain experiences in a trip report format, as they fuel one another, teaching me more about myself in time and place. More to come on the extrapolation of my identity in the next post; for now, I hope you enjoy this recap of my trip to the Eldorado Zone, where I had a fantastic opportunity to do some onsight guiding, which, I feel, is the pinnacle form of guiding.
The Eldorado Zone
Boston Basin is arguably the epicenter of alpine climbing in N. Cascades Nat’l Park; however, the Eldorado Zone has always been more appealing. In my more-amateur days of mountaineering, the fearsome knife-edge ridge of Eldorado Peak had a reputation that proceeded it. Back in 2021, I had the opportunity to guide the peak through Climbers of Color, where one of our clients, Aileen Imperial, centered this climb on her documentary And We Rise. This expedition was harrowing. Gnarly weather flooded campsites and a river crossing; the other guides and I were surprised we reached the summit. Throughout the breaks in the storm, glimpses of the Inspiration Glacier and its granitic towers emerged.
Since this initial visit, I have had the mountains looming at the back of my to-do list. Slowly ticking away are prerequisite climbs and skills; getting out to the zone came sooner than expected and out of left field. Early in my summer guiding this year (2023), I met Sarah G., on a climb of Sunh-ado through Miyar Adventures. Remarking on other trips Miyar offers, I mentioned the Inspiration Zone and its alluring attractions to Sarah. I am learning the crafty ways of pitching trips and expeditions to my friends, let alone clients; however, upon return from this trip, Sarah and I had penciled in a date to climb The Dorado Needle!
Offering a smattering of alpine climbing, The Inspiration Glacier has numerous granitic towers accessed from a beautiful campsite at the toe of the East Ridge of Eldorado Peak. A myriad of routes in moderate grade (<5.9) exist – one just has to endure the 5,400’ of elevation gain on a notorious steep climber’s trail, plus a tailing boulder field. After waiting in line to print our permits in Newhalem, Sarah and I raced off to the trailhead only to start by 1100 – 5 hours after we left Seattle. We were in for a fight through the temps, eventually taking a siesta at Roush Creek. Pressing forward, we crested the Eldorado Glacier, our campsite finally came into view after 6.5 hours of walking. Curbing the rope and putting layers on, we cruised the benign glacier in favor of establishing camp, cooking dinner, and getting to bed.
Previous trips to the zone yielded heinous weather, post-holing nightmares, and sideways rain. This morning broke way to a truly beautiful sunrise, promptly heating up the day. Our objective for day one of climbing was The East Ridge from the Toe (AKA “sit-start”) on the Dorado Needle. Combing through a plethora of beta on the internet, I learned an AMAGA Advanced Alpine Guide Course at camp, which had participants climb the route the day prior. Receiving final reassurances on the quality and condition of the route, Sarah and I boogied across the Inspiration Glacier, passing over its col on the Klawatti Glacier, arriving at the base in roughly 90 minutes.
Climbing the East Ridge sit-start involves an initial 600’ or so of climbing up to 5.6 on decent rock. Beginning with exposed moves directly off the glacier, I felt energized to be back in the saddle of alpine guiding. Especially on sight guiding! Continuing forward, we short-roped and pitched the next 500’ of climbing on low fifth-class terrain following boot-prints of previous climbers and broken terrain. Arriving at the infamous “CB,” we were moving quite well through the first third of the climbing.
The second third begins with stepping onto the glacier, then regaining the rock and climbing to a gendarme just before the headwall. Navigating the transitions between rock and snow was trivial in our conditions; however, I can imagine that section not going in later season conditions. This next section of rock was admittedly underwhelming. Most of it was 3rd – 4th class, though, featuring tons of scree and loose rock, so movement proved tenuous in a guiding context. Erroring to climber’s right and avoiding dropping too low, we arrived at a fun & secure 10’ section of vertical climbing, gaining the tow of the gendarme. Belaying Sarah up to here and then down to the base of the gendarme was superbly exposed! Soaking in the surrounding views, we were delighted with the route, and its exposure, even through all the loose bits. Reports on the rappels of the gendarme were scant. Eventually, I found the first, only 15m skiers’ right of the initial rappel, and the next touched you down to the base of the headwall. Along these rappels, you can observe the headwall pitches directly across the notch, which looked intimidating for only 5.7. Pulling the ropes also proved quite dubious, considering the strong and gusty wind, but luckily enough, we got them down, slurped down some snacks and water, laced up our climbing shoes, and blasted up the money pitches!
Up to here, I had been climbing in my mountain boots, but the desire to feel nimble and agile won me over. The AMGA participants reported climbing in their boots, which seemed possible for me, though I had much more fun in my shoes. Clipping an old piton ~8’ off the belay, the terrain gave way to good exposure and mostly solid features. Before I knew it, I reached the belay ledge (as seen above), only to see my friend Kevin and his two clients top out the gendarme!
The following money pitch was relatively short; at least, I broke it up for a fantastic photo opportunity. Great broken-finger cracks led to a brief hand/fist crack ending on a sizeable ledge with ample anchor options. The rest of the climbing to the summit was 3rd – 4th class scrambling, albeit exposed. The descent, however, was something else. To avoid a play-by-play review, I will leave the descent as an adventure for you to discover as I found it a fulfilling challenge to onsight. Cheers.
Yakama Alpinism 