[achildinthesehills]

Hi, I'm Peter and I'm a peakbagger. After struggling with this condition for the past year, I've decided that the best way to cope is to talk about it. While I've been putting up trip reports on the WTA site for some time, the decreasing amount of actual trail involved in my excursions means at least a partial change of venue. Plus I'm not finding the girls over there, as I had hoped. But I digress. I would describe my peakbagging tendencies as areal. No, not aerial. And definitely not Ariel. Areal, as in picking a cluster of dots on the map and going to turn them all green in as few trips as possible, no matter how insignificant any particular summit in that group is. Perhaps surprisingly given my nearly lifelong residency in the greater Seattle area, Mount Si was still a red dot. And after tagging Little Si and Teneriffe, etc., last year, it was a red dot in a sea of green. But not the only one. The Great Buttress and the North Peak beckoned, as did what I'm calling "Middle Si", an intermediate spot elevation that had somehow escaped the Peakbagger treatment heretofore. It seemed natural, albeit somewhat unusual, to link the four up in a single trip. But how to go about such a thing? Common mountain sense dictates a scramble ascent and a trail descent, but "if Will Thomas can do it, I can do it" are probably not words many people can/should live by. Still, I had an idea that the route could go and I'd been researching it here and there for a few weeks. What gave me the most pause was a large amount of purple (=steep) on the map to get up to the Great Buttress. Most of my experience thus far has been trying to find ways around the purple, so this would be new. Also, the topo-satellite-LIDAR agreement is rather poor in the area due to the steep and intricate rock. At a certain point there was no further available method of research than just going up there and figuring it out.

Great Buttress and environs, per several maps. The scramble route ascends the least-purple/black areas.

Shockingly, I couldn't find anyone who wanted to join me for this jaunt, so the next decision was how to complete the loop. I considered parking at the trailhead and getting some kind of rideshare to the hatchery, but that seemed like cheating. I could also park at the trailhead and walk roads to the hatchery, but that seemed a long way out of the way. Kayak down the Middle Fork? A fun twist, perhaps, but not really the adventure I was looking for. It seemed clear that I would have to bushwhack the mile from the Little Si trail to the base of the correct avalanche chute (the low traverse) to do this trip legitimately. The thought crossed my mind to traverse Little Si via the scramble route, but that seemed gratuitous. So it was at 10:45am I set out from the Little Si lot (got the last parking spot!) in functionally oppressive heat to see what would happen. The Little Si trail was what it is, and the bushwhack was surprisingly trouble free, albeit extended. Lots of mosquitos, a couple deer, three balloons (packed out), and one random piece of orange flagging on a tree branch. I aimed for a bench at the 1100-foot level that would put me in the correct gully. There turned out to be a nice view so I took a moment to have a snack and switch to scramble mode (poles away, helmet on, etc.).

Snacktime view.

I began up the chute at 1pm, already knowing this trip would take longer than anticipated. I didn't really know beforehand how long it would take, but not this long. Still, with plenty of daylight I wasn't bothered. However, the sun beat down relentlessly, so I was all but forced to work my way up the loose scree along the edge in the shade rather than the bigger, more solid talus in the middle. With no worries about anyone below me, this situation wasn't too challenging, and I sent a few rocks for a ride.

Looking up the chute.

Great Buttress from the chute.

I can only imagine how and when this got there, but I know how it departed.

Fairly steep, but not too exposed. (Not in the purple section yet.)

View from midway up the chute.

Near the top, the chute splits. It looks like either side will go, but I was already on the right and could see a bomber line of boulders in the shade to carry me through the steepest section. So I went on the left side of the right branch and found the way to be extremely intuitive. There was even a goat trail to help out. Turns out purple is nothing to be afraid of! At least in this case.

Looking up the right branch. Easy line to the left.

Middle Si above the chute.

Approaching the top of the chute.

As I worked my way up, I heard a distinctive rockfall sound above me. The cloven creatures who had forged the path I was on wanted to make sure I knew who was in charge up here. Fortunately, I was out of the chute and into the trees at this point (for shade and stability). Unfortunately, that meant I only got a brief goat glimpse. The trees gave way to one last talus field that was easily ascended.

View from the top of the upper talus field.

Sheer wall of the Great Buttress from the upper talus field.

Happy to be through what I thought would be the crux of the trip. It was not.

Things got a bit more interesting from there. According to the map, I would just be able to traverse north and hit a broad saddle just below the pinnacle of the Great Buttress. Incorrect. Before I hit that saddle, I hit a cliff. And then another. It looked like a spicy scramble could get me to the bottom of the pinnacle, but then what? So I backtracked along the base of the cliff until I could find a place to gain the ridge proper. From there I was able to drop down the other side a bit and traverse north to the base of the Great Buttress summit block. I debated whether it would be worth trying to climb. It looked to be loose class 4, but with potentially horrendous exposure if you fell in such a way as to roll off the two-foot-wide shelf between the base of the block and a certainly deadly sheer drop. Now, I don't know the end of a rope from the middle of a rope, but it seems that one could protect against that latter fall and have a lot more confidence. I'm sure several folks on here would have bounded up without a second thought, but I decided I wasn't feeling it, so put an asterisk on this ascent. Maybe I'll be back with either more confidence or protection. Actually, what I was feeling by that point was dehydration, so I sat down to eat my sandwich and gather my wits.

Looking up at the pinnacle.

Looking down at the pinnacle. Unclimbed?

The Great Buttress summit block. Actually looks less intimidating in person, but not not-intimidating enough.

View from the base of the summit block.

Then the fun began. I continued SE up the ridge and found a confusing network of ledges, gendarmes, sheer dirt, and trees/scrub that released suffocating clouds of pollen whenever I brushed into them. Eventually I managed to pick my way past the worst of that arrangement, which deposited me into a more open forest. But it was steep. Just so steep. Lots to hold onto, plenty of goat prints to step in, and soft ground in which to plant trekking poles, but so steep. And not even purple on the map!

Steep.

No, really. STEEP.

It was halfway up this ridge that I began to realize just how dehydrated I was. I didn't know exactly how much water I had left, but it wasn't much. I had not counted on the heat or how long this would take. One of the most obnoxious things that happens to me when so dehydrated is I can't get my ears to pop. So everything about the situation was rather uncomfortable. Fortunately, most of the routefinding was taken care of by the goats, so it was just a matter of grinding upwards and hoping I wouldn't pass out or cramp up or otherwise compromise my ability to stay stuck to the slope. Finally reaching level ground, I downed my few ounces of remaining water and took stock of the situation. It looked like the most direct way out was up and over the top of the Haystack as originally planned, so I carried on to Middle Si.

Middle Si from the top of the steep section.

View from Middle Si.

From there, I began to work my way up the back of the North Peak, but soon found that I just didn't have the energy to ascend further. I needed water. I had no way to treat it, but I didn't care at that point. Hitting SOS on Mount friggin' Si would be way more embarrassing than whatever I might get from raw water. So I detoured eastward and downhill to what the map shows as a possibly year-round creek. I soon entered a previously logged area, which was much more difficult to transit, and eventually I arrived at a swampy-looking thing. But at least the water was coming out of the ground nearby (so hopefully pretty clean) and moving enough to be clear. I chugged a bunch of it, saved some for emergency use, and headed back up.

Creepy stuff on the back of the North Peak.

I still wasn't in the best condition, but my head was a bit clearer and the trip up to the top passed fairly quickly. Found and packed out another balloon. There were some trees with pink ribbons around their trunks, but they didn't seem to be flagging a route of some sort. Whatever. I popped out on top of the North Peak at 6:30pm and had it to myself.

Haystack and Rainier, etc., from the North Peak.

The scramble route from the North Peak to the Haystack was pretty obvious and well traveled. It looked like a couple exposed moves from afar but they turned out to be well protected. I actually had the summit to myself for a good 10 minutes, which I consider pretty lucky. Then someone else showed up and we had a nice, brief chat. (At least I think we did—I was way more delirious than I thought.)

Mailbox, etc., from the Haystack.

Seattle, etc., from the Haystack.

On the way down the standard scramble route, I stopped to liberate some webbing and a rappel ring. Not sure why anyone would be rapping there, but hey, free stuff. Anyhow, I wonder how many other people have descended that route without ever having ascended it. It surely can't be too many. The trip down the old trail was uneventful; only saw one other person, who said I was the only other person he'd seen. I did have to use my emergency frog-piss water about a mile from the car, so I guess we'll see in a couple weeks what comes out of that. (Edit: No adverse effects.)

The route.

Stuff I learned:

• Obviously, I need to manage water better. Not difficult, but more awareness of my needs with respect to conditions is helpful.
• All the research you could possibly do to prepare only goes so far. Certain things you can only evaluate once you're there.
• I only know Will Thomas by reputation (not sure if he's on here), but he's playing an entirely different game. It took me nine hours what took him three. But without knowing the route had been completed at least once I might not have attempted it.
• Mount Si is actually a rather spectacular mountain. Sure, the crowds have pretty much ruined the character of its most accessible spots, but there are some really neat things to explore if you have the ambition.
• With that, ambition is a huge part of the mountaineering equation. Or maybe it's just an appetite for suffering. Either way, the reason this kind of thing is not done more often is because people don't want to, not because they can't. And honestly, that's okay.

[awilsondc]

Creative, character building route! I'm glad you took the time to write it up, looks like a good adventure.

[Malachai Constant]

Looks like something from my younger days.

[neek]

Excellent report. Is the glacier still pretty filled in?

[achildinthesehills]

[Malachai Constant]

By the way did you see any evidence of the paraglide who disappeared there a few years ago.?

[achildinthesehills]

[puzzlr]

When it rains it pours! Three of us happened to do that same traverse on April 21 this year. The crux for us was at about the 3100' level on the ridge above the Great Buttress. We used a hand line for safety on the slabby mossy rocks because the consequences of a fall were potentially serious. After looking back at the lidar-based contour map and with some time to explore and we might have been able to find an easier way through that section. But I agree -- there is a lot of steep terrain in there and then you get to the 3400' plateau and it's like a different world -- gentle slopes in an open forest.

Crux

Our total time was 7:15, but we did a car shuttle from the Little Si parking lot to the start by the fish hatchery. Our moving time was 4:30 -- we spent a LOT of time lounging at the various viewpoints along the ridge and enjoyed a long lunch near the Haystack. That blue tarp, saw, shovel and axe were there in 2013 as well. My guess is that it was leftover from a firefighting effort some years before. The flagging could have been left by SAR teams searching for Kurt Ruppert, the wingsuit jumper who went missing in 2013. I can't think of any other rationale for flagging in that area. Congrats on the ambitious route -- especially solo. Have you thought about carrying a PLB (maybe you do already)? Consider it if you're going to be doing more solo adventures like this. You don't want to become the next Kurt Ruppert :-)

[achildinthesehills]

Hi puzzlr! Another stalwart I know by reputation only. Somehow I missed that recent album in my preparations, but it all looks familiar now, of course. I agree about the crux there—I think it was just luck to find a way that was more dirt/roots than rock, so I never felt particularly unprotected. But it was relentless. Your moving time was about what mine would have been without the lower traverse. Would have been faster still without the heat/dehydration. I actually picked up an inReach just a couple weeks ago; probably should have done that sooner. Definitely makes my mother less nervous!

[puzzlr]

It's hard to get the results you're looking for when googling "Mount Si"!

[mosey]

Ive enjoyed your trip reports. Nice effort.

[KascadeFlat]

Three thumbs up for a great write up! You really managed to breathe some adventure into an area that is often forgotten. Come back and write more reports, please!

[Navy salad]

EXCELLENT and entertaining trip report!

[willtheskifreak]

Congrats on completing such a fun loop. It sure is fun to see Mt. Si from a different perspective. Keep inspiring with the great adventures.

[achildinthesehills]