Most Remote Point in Glacier Peak Wildernss

Most Remote Point in Glacier Peak Wilderness

Looking up Chocolate Creek Canyon, with the remote point a promontory on the right

Oct 9, 2021, 12:30am – 11:30pm

48 miles (45 hiking, 3 biking), 14,000ft gain

Eric Gilbertson

I’m interested in visiting the most inaccessible and remote corners of Washington, and excellent candidates for these locations are the most remote points of wilderness areas. These are defined as the points farthest from the edge of the wilderness boundary, meaning farthest from where a road exists or where a road can be legally constructed.

The route

Last fall I hiked and bushwhacked in to the most remote point in the Pasayten Wilderness, a point on the edge of alpine tarn 7045 near Ptarmigan Peak. That ended up being a 55-mile 36-hour continuous push in deep snow and difficult bushwhacking. I did indeed truly feel remote there.

Greg Slayden on peakbagger.com has compiled a list of the most remote points in wilderness areas in the lower 48 states using this definition, and Glacier Peak Wilderness is large enough that it is high on the list. The most remote point in Glacier Peak Wilderness is actually in a surprisingly interesting location. It could have easily been in the middle of the woods somewhere, but it is on a

How the most remote point is determined

promontory overlooking Chocolate Creek Canyon near the base of the Chocolate Glacier coming down from Glacier Peak. I gleaned this information from satellite images of the location, since [unsurpringly] I couldn’t find reports of anyone going to this point or even anywhere near it.

The two easiest approaches to get to this point appear to be hiking up the Suiattle River trail to Chocolate Creek, or hiking from Trinity over Buck Creek Pass, each about 18 miles or so. The Suiattle River Road is still closed from the Downy Creek fire, so I decided to approach from Trinity. This would mean descending from Buck Creek Pass down the abandoned Triad Creek trail, which might turn into pure bushwhacking. Then once I got to the Suiattle River I would either walk up the river basin and up Chocolate Creek, or, if the basin looking difficult, walk up the abandoned upper Suiattle River Trail until it ended at a cliff over Chocolate Creek and bushwhack from there.

The location of the remote point

There was a bit of uncertainty from the satellite image if the remote point was on the face of a cliff on the Chocolate Creek canyon or on a promontory above it. I was pretty sure the cliff would be crappy volcanic choss that I wouldn’t want to climb, so I would have to access the point from the trees above. Based on google earth it appeared there was an acces gully just west of Chocolate Creek Peak I could use to gain the trees from Chocolate Creek, and then I could bushwhack to the remote point or close to it from there.

Entering the wilderness

This route had the advantage that I could make things interesting by turning it into a loop going up Buck Creek and back Napeequa valley to Little Giant trailhead, then biking back to Trinity from there. I decided to do the trip as a day hike since a big snowstorm was supposed to come in Saturday night and last through Sunday, though Saturday weather looked ok.

Looking up the Suiattle River toward Tenpeak and Neyah Point

Friday night I drove to the Chiwawa River Road, planted my mountain bike at the Little Giant trailhead, then continued to the Trinity trailhead and slept a few hours in my car. Surprisingly there were only a few other vehicles in the lot. I had expected it to be overflowing with hikers given the prime time for fall colors, but maybe the snowy forecast had deterred people.

Saturday I was up and moving by around 12:30am. I hiked up the Chiwawa River trail then the Buck Creek trail, making it to Buck Creek pass around 4:30am. The trail was in excellent shape with no blowdowns, much different than when I had hiked it in early June before the road opened. The Buck Creek bridge is still out but the log crossing isn’t too bad.

Crossing the Suiattle River

From the pass I headed west on a faint trail that soon disappeared in a meadow. I bushwhacked down through meadow grass and blueberry bushes to the edge of forest. I then had to crawl over avy debris, but eventually picked up the old trail after about a mile. It was in tough shape and difficult to follow in the dark, but was still faster than bushwhacking. I occasionally lost the trail, and had to crawl over and under quite a few trees, but by sunrise I popped out down at the Suiattle River.

Looking down Chocolate Creek towards Napeequa

This was actually exactly the timing I had hoped. I wasn’t sure whether it would be faster to go up the Suiattle River valley or follow the abandoned Suiattle River Trail to access Chocolate Creek, and it would be important to see the river valley in daylight to make this assessment. The river valley actually looked surprisingly easy to follow. Instead of a heap of talus rubble piles that I expected it looked like mostly easy sand walking. I expected the abanonded trail to be in similar or worse condition to the one I had just come down, so it was an easy call to follow the river up.

The valley walls steepening at the exit gully

This also allowed me to enjoy great views during the next hour. The sun was just starting to hit Tenpeak and Neyah point up at the head of the valley, and the glaciers coming down the north faces looking beautiful with a fresh dusting of snow. I walked mostly on easy hardened sand with occasional boulders to scramble around. After about 45 minutes I rounded the corner to follow Chocolate Creek.

As the valley narrowed the route turned into more rock hopping, but was still much faster than bushwhacking. The walls of the valley were mostly steep chossy cliffs, and it

Looking down at the remote point

would probably have been difficult to descend to the creek from the end of the upper Suiattle River Trail. After I passed Chocolate Creek Peak the valley narrowed and the walls got steeper. But it turned out the gully I’d discovered on google earth was indeed a reasonable way out of the canyon, and probably the last way out before reaching the Chocolate Glacier.

I scrambled up the gully, then cut left once I hit trees. I got a good glimpse up the valley toward the remote point and I was encouraged that it might actually be one of the promontories sticking out into the canyon. I originally tried to hug the cliff edge in the trees, but encountered lots of dense slide alder. So I went up higher until it leveled out into a norhtwest trending water drainage and the trees opened up a lot. There were dense blueberries about knee high and occasional thickets to pass through, but overall I didn’t think the bushwhacking was too bad.

On the most remote point

After about 90 minutes in the woods I popped out into an area of sparse trees with moss in between and noticed I was about 100ft uphill from the remote point. I started descending, a bit nervous that I would hit a cliff before the remote point and have to settle for a point close to it. Then I noticed a flat promontory sticking out below me with a big boulder on it. Could that actually be the remote point? I descended some steep mud slopes using veggy belays, then reached the promontory. It was actually completely flat, with a tree on the top end and a boulder on the edge, next to a vertical cliff dropping down 500ft to the water below.

View of the remote point

It turned out the boulder was actually the location of the most remote point in Glacier Peak Wilderness. I was amazed it could be in such a scenic spot, and delighted that I could actually reach it. I piled up a small cairn on the boulder and stopped to admire the view. Glacier Peak loomed at the head of the valley, just

Looking over into the canyon

starting to get covered in a thin cloud layer. A jagged, snowy north facing ridge met my gaze across the canyon, and down the canyon I could see Napeequa Peak across the Suiattle River. It was 9:45am and had taken me about 9.5 hours to get to that point.

I rested for about 20 minutes, then started heading back. This time I stayed high, around 5400ft, to stay in the open trees instead of the slide alder near the cliff edge. At 5100ft I got to the head of the access gully and decided to go tag a bonus peak. Chocolate Creek Peak was nearby and would let me bag at least one summit for the trip so Fletcher wouldn’t question how I could go all day with no green dots.

On the summit of Chocolate Creek Peak

I bushwhacked steeply up to a plateau, then followed a deer trail up the narrow west ridge to reach the summit around 11am. I don’t think too many people have been there, though it is quite pleasant on top with wide open forest and basically no undergrowth. From the top I dropped down the southeast face, through increasingly dense undergrowth, and finally back down to Chocolate Creek.

Clouds rolling in on Hoof peak

I retraced my route down Chocolate Creek, and briefly considered bushwhacking straight up to Napeequa. But the summits were socked in by then and it started snowing briefly. The weather wasn’t supposed to come in til well after sunset, but I guess it was coming in a bit early. So I instead returned down the Suiattle River and went back up the Triad Creek trail. In the daylight the trail was much easier to follow, and by 3pm I arrived at Buck Creek Pass.

Snow at High Pass

The snow had briefly let up, but the summits were all socked in the clouds. I met a group descending from High Pass and they said there was only a few inches of snow up there. I’ve been up there a few times before, including in a snowstorm (this past June), and felt confident I could get through in low visibility to complete my planned loop. So I continued hiking up around Liberty Cap.

By then the wind picked up and it started snowing again. But I had a few hours of daylight left, so continued up. I encountered snow on the ground near Rally Cap and it continued to High Pass, but was only an inch or two so not a problem in my trail runners. I descended from High Pass to a small tarn by around 5pm. I briefly considered tagging Napeequa, but noticed it was socked in the clouds, and then it started raining.

Looking down towards Napeequa valley

If Napeequa had a trail I would have done it, but I’d read the route was 3rd class, and I expected navigation would be nontrivial in a whiteout. So I instead decided to try to make it down to the trees in the Napeequa valley before dark. This actually marks the second time this year I’ve bailed on Napeequa from High Pass in bad weather (the other time was early June in a snowstorm).

Hiking down the Napeequa

I followed a good climbers trail down the valley and saw some brilliant yellow larches on the slopes above. I managed to reach the shelter of the trees by the time the rain picked up again, and was grateful for the trail cut through the dense slide alder patches. The sun soon set, and I got pretty soaked hiking down the valley. Unfortunately I had one climb left for the evening, a 2000ft ascent up a pass over to the Little Giant drainage.

Larches up on Buck

I guess I hadn’t remembered this, and it was a bit more difficult than I had hoped for, ascending in the dark and rain after already having put in a big day. The rain soon changed to snow and the trail got much more slippery. I finally reached the pass and was blasted by cold wind and blowing snow. That was not a great place to hang out long since my clothes were soaked from the rain. I jogged down the other side, and luckily the trail was in better shape with gradual switchbacks.

Biking back

I soon got back below snow line, and eventually reached the Chiwawa River by 10:30pm. Since my shoes were already soaked I just marched straight across in my pants and shoes. The water was only shin deep, so not too bad. I soon reached my bike and started biking up the road. Two cars came down as I was biking, but otherwise I had the road to myself. I took my time, since my headlamp was getting pretty dim, and eventually reached my car at Trinity at 11:30pm.

It had been a tough 23 hour day, and I was grateful to not need to drive back to Seattle that night. I changed out of my wet clothes, went to sleep in the back of the car, then drove home the next morning.

 

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