Trip Date: August 30 – September 1, 2003

Bears Breast Mountain Climbing Trip

Middle Fork Snoqualmie River
Dutch Miller Gap
Bears Breast Mountain (7197 ft)

Trip Report Summary

Region: Central Washington Cascades

Sub-Region: Snoqualmie Range

Area: Alpine Lakes Wilderness

Starting & Ending Point: Old Middle Fork Snoqualmie River Trailhead at former end of Middle Fork Road (Elev. 2850 feet)

Way Points: Middle Fork Snoqualmie River & Crawford Creek & Pedro Camp & Williams Creek & Dutch Miller Gap (trail hike)

Campsite: Dutch Miller Gap

Sidetrip: Waptus River Cirque (off-trail hike & rock scramble)

Summit: Bears Breast Mountain (rock scramble & rock climb via Southwest Face—West Chimney)

Approximate Stats: 22 miles traveled; 5400 feet gained & lost.

Full Trip Report

After getting rained off Bears Breast Mountain on Labor Day weekend in 2002, Mike T. and I made a commitment to try again exactly one year later.  So, last Saturday morning found us bouncing up the dreadfully rough Middle Fork Snoqualmie River road en route to our second attempt.  We were joined by Kevin, who would climb with us, and by Laura, who would be our “ground man” for the ascent.

Although the favorable weather forecast virtually precluded another rain-out, it was not a particularly auspicious beginning.  Mike was just recovering from a bad virus infection that had kept him down for the past two weeks.  He was still coughing a lot, and his voice was so weak that he had to refrain from talking much.  (Anyone who knows Mike can understand how difficult and frustrating this must have been for him.)  Furthermore, I had strained both knees a few days previously.  They were swollen like two grapefruit and yielded only partial movement.  I wondered whether Mike and I would even make it to camp.  Fortunately, Kevin and Laura were healthy.

Day 1: Trailhead to Dutch Miller Gap

We were surprised to see 14 other cars at the road-end parking lot, considering the unpleasantries involved in getting there.  (It’s very appropriate that some signs abbreviate “Middle Fork” as “M.F.”).  As bad as the road is, however, the trail extending beyond the road terminus is truly delightful—probably one of the finest valley trails in the Cascades.  Aside from offering continual views of alpine peaks, the trail is in great condition and has received a large dose of maintenance during recent summers.  We even passed a trail crew while hiking in.  Sadly, they explained that this maintenance effort is being pushed by the Forest Service’s plan to abandon and gate the Middle Fork road as soon as trail work can be completed, which might be next fall.

Our schedule required us to merely reach Dutch Miller Gap and establish camp on Day 1, so we felt no particular urgency during the approach hike.  Nonetheless, Kevin raced ahead, while Laura, Mike and I huffed along slowly in the August heat.  We reconvened at the gap in mid-afternoon (4.8 hours from trailhead), with ample time for a dip in one of the nearby ponds.  As a contrast to last year, mosquitoes were almost non-existent, even in the meadows around camp.

The great Southwest Face of Bears Breast Mountain looms 2000 feet over Dutch Miller Gap, and we spent some time before dinner eyeballing our planned route.   Although not obvious from this vantage, the true summit lies on a blocky structure at the southeastern end of a long, irregular crest.  Two parallel gullies cut up through the lower portion of face several hundred yards left (northwest) of the summit block.  Based on a report from Dave Walker, who climbed the mountain with Billie Butterfield earlier this year, we knew that the left-hand gully is the correct route.  This key gully terminates about three-fifths of the way from base to crest in a distinctive fan (inverted triangle) of chunky white rock, above which is a dark headwall.

Day 2: Bears Breast Mtn Summit Climb  

Kevin, Mike and I awoke at first light Sunday morning and were underway shortly afterwards.  We traversed over and around a series of rocky ribs northeast of the gap, dropped onto a talus field, and crossed to the base of the Southwest Face (1.0 hour from camp).  We then began working upward in the key gully for 1000 feet via a convoluted series of zig-zags.

In contrast to Beckey’s benign description of “some scrambling,” this gully actually involves continuous Class 3-4 scrambling across ledges and up short steps, with exposure ranging from slight to considerable.  The hardest part comes about one-third of the way up, where the gully narrows and steepens.  Kevin scrambled straight up slabby sandstone on the right side, whereas Mike and I opted for blockier terrain on the left side and had to monkey-climb through a steep, scratchy clump of scrub cedar.

Once above the gully constriction, the angle eased slightly and the scrambling became more Class 2-3.  We stopped at the “white fan” for a snack, then veered rightward up heather slopes and broken rock, finally reaching the ridge crest at the second notch left (northwest) of the summit block.  An easy scramble over the intervening point brought us to the deep notch directly beneath the summit (3.2 hours from camp).  This close perspective on the summit block, which is very steep on the right side and overhanging on the left side, gave us some trepidation.  “Yikes!  We have to climb that?”

We donned harnesses and rock shoes and prepared two small summit packs.  Possibly because I had carried up the gear rack, Mike and Kevin elected me to lead the summit block.  The first pitch starts out on well-broken Class 3-4 rock but abruptly becomes quite steep—even bulging slightly—halfway up, and suitable cracks are difficult to find.  I managed a decent stopper placement just below the bulge and then traversed rightward… then leftward…then rightward again…then leftward again.  Nothing looked particularly easy or protectable, but I found an old knifeblade piton on my fourth traverse.  Ahh, this must be the way.  I clipped the piton and gave it a test jerk.  It shifted about 3 inches (gulp!), so I placed a small, questionable stopper above it.

Moving onto the bulge just right of the piton, I felt my confidence waning due to the marginal protection and serious exposure—a combination I’ve never handled well.  At least the rock is good, I told myself.  My next two handholds promptly broke off with a gentle tug (gasp!) and I suddenly found myself in a very disconcerting position.  Not having the nerves to back down, I had no choice but to haul myself over the bulge.  Whew!  Now just an easy slab lay between me and a roomy belay ledge.  Unfortunately, my poorly planned chock placements had put two 90-degree bends in the rope, causing major drag.  I felt like I was towing a dormitory refrigerator up the slab!  Once I anchored into the ledge, Mike and Kevin followed.  They both surmounted the little bulge at a seemingly better spot left of the piton.

We all scoped out the second pitch, which involves a 20-foot crack and dihedral feature transitioning into a 20-foot squeeze chimney above.  I stemmed halfway up the dihedral to an old angle piton and gave it a little test jerk.  It popped out cleanly!  Obviously, the term “fixed piton” has a different meaning on Bears Breast.  No worries here, though, because I was able to get a solid stopper placement in the same crack and also lasso a chockstone 3 feet overhead.

A combination of stemming and pull-up moves (5.6-ish) got me into the narrow chimney, then I used some interior heel-toe and heel-knee jams in conjunction with edge holds to wiggle upward to a nice belay stance at the top.

This whole pitch turned out to be quite fun, offering good rock and interesting moves.  Mike and Kevin followed, cursing their summit packs in the chimney.

Our third pitch continued up a moderately inclined crack on solid Class 5.0 rock with dramatic exposure.

I placed several stoppers and cams en route to the final chockstone pull-up.  We all enjoyed the climbing on this pitch immensely.  A short Class 2 scramble then earned us the summit (6.0 hours from camp).  I immediately waved at Laura in the chance she might be watching.  (It turned out that she was, indeed, monitoring our entire climb through binoculars.)

We spent a half hour on top, basking in the sun and identifying peaks throughout the Alpine Lakes Wilderness.

The register tube contained slips of paper dating back to the 1980s, indicating perhaps one ascent every two or three years.  Several rapid ascents had been made from the northeast side, and at least one solo climb was reported.  Mike replaced the old metal tube with a new leak-proof plastic tube.  When it was time to leave, three single-rope rappels got us off the airy summit block.

Although all three anchors seemed bombproof, the third rappel was especially nerve-wracking for me because it went over the bulge and I couldn’t see the end of the rope.  Thankfully, our rope reached Class 3 terrain with 5 feet to spare.  We changed back into boots and began the long descent.

Mike and Kevin did a nice job of route finding down the confusing terrain, which severely tested my memory.  Occasionally, they argued over descent directions while I listened with amusement and befuddlement.  Above the steep constriction, I lobbied for a rappel, but the other two vetoed me.  We instead down climbed the awful scrub cedar to the ledges below.

Looking up, I realized that they were right; my desired rappel probably would have stranded us on slabby rock with sparse options for additional rappel anchors.  The remaining maze of lower ledges seemed endless but finally gave way to the basal talus slope.  We hastily traversed back to camp (4.7 hours from summit), where Laura welcomed us home with her trademark smile.

Day 3: Dutch Miller Gap to Trailhead

On Monday, we again awoke at first light, broke camp, and hit the trail by 6:30 a.m.  This has always been my favorite way to end a trip:  hiking out in the crisp morning air, watching and hearing the day gradually unfold.  Kevin blazed back to the trailhead, while Mike grazed back, feasting on ripe blueberries.  Laura and I sauntered along behind, savoring the moment and comparing our perceptions of the climb.  Bears Breast was especially satisfying to me for two reasons.  First, it completed my long-term quest (beginning in 1984) to climb the “Snoqualmie Twelve” group of major peaks.  Second, it meant that I never had to drive the god-forsaken…er, Forest Service-forsaken…Middle Fork road again!

Route Comments

Overall, the Southwest Face route on Bears Breast Mountain feels much like the East Face route on nearby Chimney Rock.  Both involve extensive Class 3-4 scrambling to an imposing summit block, with similar rock types and qualities.  Bears Breast, however, requires three times as much scrambling (1800 feet versus 600 feet), and its summit block is more technically difficult (5.6 versus 5.2) but feels much less exposed.  Beckey’s description of Bears Breast totally understates the scrambling portion but accurately depicts the summit block.  Overall, both Bears Breast Mountain and Chimney Rock offer an unforgettable alpine experience—an experience I won’t want to repeat anytime soon.

Gear Comments

For parties of three or more, either a 60-meter rope or two 50-meter ropes would prevent problems reaching belay stances (we had a few problems with this).  One 50-meter rope works fine to get off the summit, although it might not seem so as you start to rappel.  Our rack of ten stoppers, two small cams, and six runners was adequate for protection.  We all appreciated having rock shoes (painful traditional rock shoes for them, comfy rock “sneakers” for me) on the summit block.

Photo Gallery

Click to enlarge…