Leavenworth Ice Climbing with Dan
Everything you need to know about Ice Climbing in Washington's weird Bavarian village
Introduction
This is part two of five of a series on recent adventures in the Cascades.
February 7: Get Ready for Gilbertson
THIS ISSUE 👉 January 19-25: Washington Ice Climbing with Dan
February 1-2: Solo Winter Storm Overnight at Crystal Mountain
February 4: Mt: Rainier: Longmire to Muir with Peter
February 8-9: Glacier Peak Ski Descent
January 19
Dan is my backcountry ski partner. We’d never gone ice climbing together, but his message made sense. Washington hadn’t gotten snow in a week or two, and the temperatures dropped to frigid lows, meaning the skiing would be no fun for powder-hounds like us. Ice climbing on the other hand might actually be pretty good and safe with low avalanche danger.
Quick background on ice climbing: one of the most common types of ice climbing occurs on waterfalls that freeze during the winter. Classic ice climbing destinations in the west include the Canadian Rockies, Montana, Wyoming, and Colorado, which have accessible waterfalls/canyons near roads. Compared to these classic spots, Washington has plenty of icy mountains and glaciers, but they’re harder to access.
The one and only guidebook on ice climbing in Washington describes it as an “elusive beast” and gives frustratingly vague directions such as “Walk about an hour down the the trail and turn left to spot the climb.” In other words, one must have the patience to meander for hours through snow searching for frozen walls that may or may not exist. On top of that, even if you do find the wall, it might still have running water. For the full breakdown, refer to 10 Tips for Ice Climbing in Washington, which concludes “Seriously, just go to fucking BC.”
Therefore, when Dan asked if I wanted to go, I thought that sounded like pure joyless suffering. Perfect preparation for Eric Gilbertson (see Getting Ready for Gilbertson).
Monday morning at 6 am, we drove to Leavenworth targeting Rainbow Falls, one of the few climbs on the roadside. When we arrived at spot that matched the description in the book, we found no waterfall at all! What stood before us was a mostly bare rocky cliff with a few bands of ice on it. We knew we might find a not-yet-frozen waterfall, but we never considered the possibility of finding a dry one.
Our next option was Millennium Wall, a series of three faces 1-2 hours hike off the road on the Snow Lakes Trail. Fortunately, the trail was already packed down by winter hikers so we could walk without snowshoes. Internally, I shifted my mindset from “ice climbing” to “hiking” because at that point, I didn’t expect to find any climbable waterfalls.
After ascending more than 1000 ft, we entered a narrow valley with the famous Snow Lakes Wall on the right. Dan said, “I swear I can smell the ice.” At that exact moment, I looked left and saw a huge wall covered in ice directly on the side of the trail. The ice showed no recent signs of climbing, but we found a boot-pack that led back around the top of wall. On the top, we found a couple trees littered with ropes for building anchors.
We built our own anchor, rappelled down over the cliff, and voila, we were in business. Dan climbed first and gave me a tutorial in the technique. “Hang on your skeletal structure, stick your butt out, relax, breathe, don’t squeeze hard.” We still both got flash pumped and had to take breaks halfway up our first climb to let the blood drain from our forearms. I found it difficult to relax with so much adrenaline pumping through me.
On the second and third climbs, we had a lot more success at relaxing and conserving energy. We were pooped by the end of our third climbs and cleaned up the rope.
This was my first true taste of ice climbing. Even though my motivation to go came from my desire to bolster my tolerance for suffering, I ended up having fun. Dan’s enthusiasm for the sport energized me. I already knew Dan’s history of ice climbing, but it was another thing to see him in the act. I always imagined ice climbing as a fierce battle, gladiator style: man vs. ice. In Dan’s climbing, however, I saw a beautiful dance in which he used the least possible energy, remained relaxed, and found harmony with the ice.
Background on Dan
Wait a second, who is Dan? I’m glad you asked. One thing I learned at a young age from my Aunt Ronna is to find adventure partners who you can talk to all day. Dan’s fascinating life lends itself to nearly unlimited stories, making for one-of-a-kind trail conversations. He, Antoine, and I started skiing together in 2022, and last year Dan served as an emergency contact on my running adventure through Canada.
Dan grew up in a Tennessee bible belt town in a low income family. He was a gifted athlete and student and was offered admission to Westpoint and the Naval Academy, something that is apparently very rare. While attending the Naval Academy in Maryland, Dan somehow became fascinated with mountaineering.
With no mentors nor contact with the mountaineer community, Dan taught himself the technical skills for glacier travel and mountain climbing by reading books. Then, during a college break, he spent a large chunk of his savings on a plane flight to Seattle and a car rental. Before influencers or the chance for internet fame, Dan drove to Mount Rainier and climbed the mountain solo, drove back to the Seattle Airport, and returned to the Naval Academy.
Dan went on to climb Rainier solo in the winter multiple times and then climbed Denali solo. After college, he served five years on warships in the Navy, which he compared to being in prison in outer space because you’re trapped on a boat in the middle of the ocean surrounded by nothing while working long hours that deprive you of sleep. When he was stationed in Japan, Dan fell in love with his now wife and became a father. At the end of his Navy Service, Dan got a night school MBA from Duke and ultimately made his way to the tech world where he works now. (He has given me a lot of shit about how good I had it with my Amazon job straight out of college).
Dan initially started ice climbing to train for bigger mountaineering objectives but grew to enjoy it on its own. At one point, he spent a month in Ouray, Colorado, arguably the premier U.S. ice climbing destination.
You can keep tabs on Dan by reading his website royalsadventures.com.
January 24-25
After actually getting some endorphins on the Millenium Wall, Dan and I got pretty stoked about ice climbing. The following Friday, Dan was able to take a day off work, and we decided to return to Leavenworth for two days. A classic multi-pitch climb we could see from the Bridge Creek Campground called Hubba Hubba looked good, and Dan wanted to see if he could get strong enough to feel confident leading it.
We drove back to Leavenworth on Friday at the crack of dawn ready to explore. We started in Tumwater Canyon to look for a classic, Plastic Fantastic, but it didn’t have much ice. Next, we returned to Icicle Creek Road and decided to go up the Mountaineers Creek Drainage, which features climbs such as “Fucking the Gerbil” and “Feeding the Rat”. We parked at the Bridge Creek Campground and walked 3 miles up Mountaineer Creek Road. From a vantage point that allowed us to see the presumed climbs across the drainage, we saw some rocky cliffs thinly covered in ice. Getting to the wall would require a big bushwhack and potentially hazardous creek crossing.
The meager ice failed to entice us into a big bushwhack, and we walked back. We checked out one more set of climbs at the Blast Rock Wall 1.2 miles past the Bridge Creek Campground that seemed like they could be fun. There, we found an almost bare cliff with no ice. Perfectly south facing, the sun must have been strong enough to evaporate most of the moisture off the cliff over the past weeks.
Dan and I concluded that we may have found the only good wall for top-roping in Leavenworth the previous Monday. We returned to Millennium Wall to find another party at the crag. They had gotten word that the ice was good from a hiker who passed us climbing on Monday. Knowing the drill, we set up our top rope and got three climbs in before it started getting dark. That night, we got dinner at Yodelin Broth Company. Dan and I both had been hoping for some warm, filling wiener schnitzel, but Yodelin served only healthy Pacific Northwest cuisine. Dan stared at his all too healthy “bowl of stuff” with the heartbreaking look of a sad puppy, but we felt good after the dinner and slept well that night at a Quality Inn in Wenatchee.
The following morning, we filled up on the free breakfast from the Quality Inn and returned to the Millennium Wall yet again to drill some more laps and focus on technique. We found ourselves part of an even bigger group then. Three parties of ice climbers showed up in the absence of good snow for skiing. Dan decided he wasn’t in condition to lead Hubba Hubba so we stuck to fun laps. We drove back to Seattle that afternoon feeling triumphant about two fun days hacking ice.
