SkiSickness

In form true to the four days I spent with Naomi, it's taken awhile to get to where I want to be for writing this. Which as it turns out is where I was all along. Confused? So am I.

Climbing, and skiing, introduces a rhythm into life that each of us dance to differently. Since Monika died I've had a hard time recognizing what I'm hearing. How do you dance to music that doesn't sound like music? I guess like anything else it's really a matter of shaking your ass in a way that feels good more so than figuring out anything.

When Naomi emailed about a trip to WA pass over Labor Day I replied with a plea to go back country. I figured that with a rope gun like Naomi the trip would be chill. A long hike in. Camp by a lake. Plenty of stellar routes within a half hour. Sometimes it's nice to brew stoke in waters not laced with fear.

And stoked we were. A bomber forecast so mesmerized me that I left for the border unphased by not having a clear idea of how to get to where we were going. Follow a trail; leave a trail; head SE; bits and pieces of various TR's; a Beckey sketch; an email exchange with dberbinka; what could go wrong? I drove north convinced that Naomi and I would find Cathedral like tap water finds a drain.

It took a few breathes on day 1 to absorb the weight of a pack not meant to be light. But even dbls on cams from .5 thru 2, a 60 m rope, and food packed with recent ill preparedness in mind couldn't keep the weather and magnificent trail from lightening my step.

About 45 minutes into the hike I paused to tie my shoe and heard a noise off to the side. A large black bear approached to within a 100 feet, paused, then ran away. Good things happen when wild things are seen. Stoke was high.

A little while later we came to a fork in the trail signed with "Centennial Trail" and an arrow. The pdf map I'd printed mentioned no such trail and Beckey's sketch of the area just made me laugh. Beneath the arrow someone had carved "Wall Creek". That's what we wanted so that's where we went. My gut told me otherwise, as would have my compass had I taken it from my pack. In retrospect, whoever had carved "Wall Creek" had probably only meant to indicate that said junction was indeed the the Wall Creek junction.

More beautiful hiking:
After several more hours we realized our mistake and gambled on an alternate cross country route. No such luck. As Naomi described- stoke was low as we tucked tail, back tracked, and made camp far from Cathedral's by now mystical lakes.

We rekindled our stoke with a fire and the next day made quick work of the proper approach. Along the way Naomi and I set the mood for the rest of the trip with talk about mindfulness. Too often I hike or climb or ski with a far off objective in view. Occasionally, and more frequently, I pay attention to what's close at hand. My breath. The air against my cheek. Drips of sweat. The feel of dust, moss, rock, and grass beneath my feet. Something about consciously paying attention to the immediate makes what matters most-- no matter how far away-- seem close.

We followed the Wall Creek trail for about a mile to Cowboy Camp and then went cross country- up through old growth and beetle kill, across a ridge, down through a marsh and beautiful basin then up to another ridge.

Naomi, on said ridge mindfully appreciative of our first view of Cathedral: Here's a shot of our high point and turnaround from the day before. Over a lazy afternoon Naomi and I found the chill we'd been looking for. And I began to feel an underlying rhythm. Cathedral Peak is rare in that it's north aspect is much tamer than it's southern brother. The rest of the approach seemed straight forward. We knew the route would be obvious. Weather perfect. Sure beat working.
Speaking of work, I was supposed to return to work early on the day after next. Hmmmmm. The thought of making it back to the trailhead in time for me to safely drive 8 hours by 7 am the following day clouded the otherwise cloudless day. I listened to Naomi's optimism about a tent to tent climb of 7 hours. I even shared it a bit. But convincing myself of a quick climb coupled with a shenanigan free deproach felt like moshing to the Avett Brothers. Breath. relax. Feel the beat. I was in a great spot with a quickly becoming very good friend looking at a supposedly stellar climb in great weather. I ended up making a decision and finding my groove before I posed any question. I'd roll with consequences when and if they happened. A dinner of spinach, kale, pesto orzo, and baileys had me smiling as I closed my eyes beneath northern cascade stars.

It took us three hours to get from our tent to ready to climb. Not as quick as we would have liked but seeing as that was the last time noted until we topped out, I can say we weren't bothered. We were STOKED:
We opted to begin in a 5.9ish crack further up the gully than Beckey's first pitch. Naomi drew first straw and started up with hardly a pause. This was her second alpine climb, behind Yak Check the week before. My second alpine climb was the Tooth.
We lead in blocks. I'd been hoping to combine pitches but the steppy nature of the climb makes that difficult. So we rolled with it and made belays at comfortable spots in the sun.
The route stays to the right of the crest above Naomi and climbs the obvious headwall:
Doorish climbed the first ascent via a 7+" crack that splits the face, but I opted for a beautiful finger crack to the right of it. No pictures, but trust me when I say that it was fantastic. Short, but fantastic.

The walk off involves a short leap of faith, some 4th class downclimbing, and then a pleasant hike.
We made it back to our tent sometime before sunset. We talked about hiking out that night, but opted instead to rest up for an early start the next morning.

Unfortunately, because I missed a rendez-vous with a french speaking devil a chain of emails and phone calls ensued that brought alarm into the lives of many people I care about. When I returned to cell phone coverage I had messages and texts that brought a screeching chord change to the music I'd been enjoying. Sorry about that everyone. Those that understand understood, and those that didn't don't, a profound thought that took surprisingly long to articulate.

Naomi, you kick ass and are fun to hang with. Thanks so much for the 4 day groove.

Hellooooooooooo Ryan! I like your trip reports. Don't have to say it, but thanks again. I still remember it as a fun and calming long weekend. I'm occasionally more mindful here and there too and it's great Oh, and I'm glad we didn't hike out in the dark. It would've been a disaster.

Eric: I hope this ups your stoke on wanting to come to this area. Really great pitches!

That's an investment of time and I'm glad you were able to reap the dividends. It's always great to see Naomi's big smile.

great TR, Ryan, and nice trip you two! Sometimes being lost is all right.

skykilo wrote: It's always great to see Naomi's big smile.

then here's another:

Its exactly as far as it is.