Misadventures in Redneck Washington

Participants: Ana Ciocoiu, Eric Daigle

Useful beta in bold

Friday, May 27

In an attempt to escape the diluvial rains on the West coast, Eric and I picked the nearest dry town in Washington for a weekend climbing trip.

10pm: After crushing a can of lavender soap tasting beer, I made it through the Peace Arch around 11pm on Friday with Eric generously at the wheel. Because clearly this was going to be an uneventful drive with no further delays, we decided to stop at Jack in the Box and scarf down some deep friend jalapenos and double bacon cheeseburgers. Great vegetarians, we are.

Saturday, May 28

12am: pulled up at a half-deserted gas station to get some of that sweet, cheap car juice. After some faff with the Canadian debit cards, we were ready to go. Suddenly we hear a muffled bleat in the distance. Upon further investigation, we discover that (no joke) a woman is cradling and apparently breastfeeding a baby goat on the steps of the convenience store. Just another day in Monroe, WA.

2am: I wake up from a mindless slumber to sirens, lights, and flares on the highway near Wellington. Harassing a disgruntled beat cop reveals that some soon-to-be-unemployed truck driver has managed to not only lose the bus off his trailer but lose the trailer off his truck as well. Clearly a double threat.

Highway is completely blocked off in both directions. After 20 mins or so of sleepy deliberation, all three tow trucks which had congregated on the spectacle give up and drive off westwards, and we were allowed to proceed past the now orphaned bus.

3am: Rolling in to what we expect to be the sleepy town of Leavenworth, we scope out some back roads, hoping there will be a suitable car camping location. For the uninitiated, Leavenworth is a bastardized Bavarian town that makes EPCOT pavilions look authentic. We settled on a supposed boat launch that was more like boat graveyard, given the extremely steep and unpassable ramp into the river.

For some reason, this boat launch is the place to be at 3am in Leavenworth: we hadn’t even unpacked our sleeping bags when we noticed a man and his son repairing their car by lamplight in their backyard across the road. A motorboat with truck headlights soon cruised down the river straight past Eric who was stealth peeing in the bushes. Soon enough a vigilante-style Prius with a strobe light pulls up, examines our attempted campsite, and drives off silently. We decide this is not the place to get restful sleep and so drive down glacier creek road until we find a less trafficked area.

4am: Finally get some sleep.

9am: Wake surprisingly well-rested for 5 hours of sleep in the trunk of a Nissan Rogue. We decide to grab breakfast in town, filling up on sausage, sauerkraut, and cheap ‘murican diner covfefe. We bum around town for a bit to soak in the culture.

Clearly a very cultured place.

Around 12pm we set off to finally send something, confident that our outdated 2005 Weekend Rock guidebook from a Vantage gas station will not lead us astray. A couple hours and one underwhelming 5.2 trad lead (congrats Eric, I guess) later, our attempts to climb at the Pearly Gates are foiled by a higher than average volume of water in glacier creek.

We convene with a group of similarly frustrated climbers, and decide to climb at the Playground, which did not feature in my guidebook (and with good reason). I recommend you don’t climb here unless you enjoy leading over bolted 5.4 slab. In an attempt to appease an increasingly frustrated Ana (me), Eric drives into town where we get absolutely wasted on cheap sausage and one-liter mugs of local beer. Eric gets carded despite his daddy beard.

 Me with my child sized beer and authentic pretzel.

We head to Der Sportsmann to finally buy a guidebook to this cursed place. Please note that most local crags in Glacier Creek are disappointing to the average Squamish climber. After an hour trying to figure out which chossy wall is actually Surf City, I led a sad, easy 5.7 crack (“Paydirt”). We decided to call it a day and headed to a last-minute RV campsite. We spent an evening trying to coax firewood wetter than a San Francisco bathhouse to set on fire, only to give up and steal some dry wood from the courtyard of a local “Bavarian” hotel. Copious amounts of lighter fluid ensure a roaring fire in the end.

Sunday, May 29

Armed with the correct guidebook and renewed zest for life, we decide to go north to climb the historical Fred Beckey route ‘Midway” on Castle Rock. While stopping for breakfast in town, Eric informs me that he has never climbed multipitch before. One hasty trad lesson later, we are finally at the base of Midway (along with 3 other parties) staring up in awe at the chimney bit of P1.

Eric at the bottom of P1 on Midway

I gear up to lead this thing, while Eric tries to detangle a rope that by now is more inbred than Alabama. Eventually we start up the chimney behind a party just as inexperienced as us. We make it to the summit around 3pm.

Garbage phone camera doesn’t do the views justice.

Having led Midway, I must say that it is an excellent trad multipitch climb, especially for beginners. Although you may have to coax your second to take a step into thin air off the top of Jello Tower (Can be scary. Even on toprope, apparently). We celebrated our mediocre send with beer steins back in town. The place was packed for Memorial weekend, and we had fun trying to guess the place of origin for all the tourists (you could always tell who was from Seattle because they were the only ones wearing masks). All in all, we had a great time, and heartily recommend visiting Leavenworth. Just make sure you have a real guidebook and a high tolerance for kitsch.

Typical kitsch.