Downey & Bachelor Creek Bushwack: The crazies need no introduction; however, recent trail restoration has improved that.
Waterfall near the Bachelor/Downey Creek junction
This tree eats peices of rock for breakfast!
I want to start with a shoutout to the volunteers who’ve done a fantastic job restoring this trail. A natural handhold carved at the top of a log, paired with a sloped step, offers a less strenuous climb—pulling back against the hold to hoist myself to the next set of steps. Impressed by the volunteers’ climbing instincts and log-notching skills, I continue on. The trail weaves through a marked log walk obstacle course, skillfully laid through an area ravaged by fallen trees. The clever and dynamic natural additions were a delight to navigate. Thank you to the intuitive, trail-blazing volunteers—your time, effort, and creativity are truly appreciated.
A series of pink ribbons mark the best path up Batchelor Creek. At one point, a clearing of downed trees threw me off route, but the detour offered some nice views. After taking in the scenery, I bushwhacked my way back to the pink ribbon trail.
The trail veers south and crosses a large log by a waterfall at 4,050 ft elevation. If you cross here, it leads to a nasty bushwhack. Backtrack a bit and look for pink ribbons that stay on the north side. Note: My GPS route, provided at the end, does not reflect the better route through this section!
Looking down on Cub Lake with Glacier Peak in the distance.
By the banks of Cub Lake, I admire her floating ice islands as she liquidates her assets. The semi-transparent, light blue ice beneath the surface of the crystal-clear waters glows softly in the afternoon light. The shimmering shoreline glistens as I pass, enhancing the lake’s serene beauty. Her effervescent spirit nourishes my soul with every step.
Scenic views thus far had been nice, to say the least, but the unveiled scenes that lay ahead stole my breath at every turn and upon every pass. A snowy wonderland awaited beyond the lake, a gated realm of pristine beauty.
Rounding the bend, I meander up the valley toward Spire Point, tucked behind her crown of pointy relatives. Towers of thorny rocks perch on a snowy bench, with a rocky escarpment that dances with cascading falls. The white, shimmering streams contrast brilliantly against the black cliff walls in the afternoon sun.
Looking back across the creek meadow as I start my climb toward Itswoot Ridge.
I turn my hat backward to shield the back of my neck from the sun’s rays, then rub a little lotion on the spots where the snow’s glare might catch me off guard. With a shift in mindset, I start the trudge up the soft snow toward Itswoot Ridge.
A Snow boarder heads up Itswoot Ridge.
As I make my way up Itswoot Ridge, the valley gradually drops away beneath me, revealing the surrounding mountains in all their glory.
Snowboard tracks serpentine down the slopes below Spire Point—looks like boards have had a glorious day of shredding.
I catch a great shot of Glacier Peak through a notch in the ridge.
Tents go up, stoves come out, and tired feet rest after a long day of epic runs. Up I climb.
As I crest Itswoot Ridge, I catch my first view of Dome Peak. Her towering pinnacle dominates the eastern horizon. WOW! What a sight—she is magnificent. I take a moment to soak in the valley and all the incredible beauty around me. Clean air, blue skies—I couldn’t hope for more. A moment is all I have, for I must keep moving to reach my camping destination on the ridgeline of towering peaks along Dome’s western flank before the setting sun shuts her eyes for the night.
I arrived at my campsite as the sun dipped behind the horizon, casting warm hues in the clear evening air.
While digging out a flat spot for my tent, I accidentally knocked the pole for my tent’s rainfly from its ledged position. It skidded across the freshly crusted snow. With a knee-jerk reaction, I tore after it in a dead sprint. Despite my exhaustion from a long day of climbing, my adrenaline-pumped legs thrust forward, sinking thigh-deep with every step. The thought of diving for it crossed my mind, but it was too late. Just like that, my rainfly tent pole was out of my life forever. “NO, NO, NO!” I cried, peering down the thousands of feet it must have slid.
Summiting Dome: Morning commences with breakfast and exchanges with voices of unseen faces from within my cozy abode. My fellow summiteers sounded as excited as I felt. The overcast day is perfect for the day’s adventures. Hopefully, this would mean less post-holing…It did not! My stomach lined with skillet supreme I set out for Dome’s Summit.
Colossal monoliths jut from their snowy perch, towering overhead like ancient sentinels. Each one I pass unveils a new horizon, a vista buffet carved by ice and snow.
Sentinel & Old Guard seen between two monolithic giants of Dome’s west ridge
Every window between these guardians offers a unique view, each with its own distinct character, as if seen through the eyes of the lords of Dome. The landscape transforms with each step, revealing the majestic splendor of the North Cascades.
The sentinels guarding Dome’s pass rise in stature, as the crunch of my crampons echoes with a gothic, sacred resonance in the foyer of her cathedral.
My anticipation grows as Dome’s summit block peeks over the glacial horizon, teasing my ascent.
The final ascent to the summit
Spire resembling a scorpion’s tail towering above the campers’ bivouac at Dome’s col.
The summit seen just behind me, to the right of my helmet—this is as close as I got!
Great summit views.
Chickamin Glacier: The trek to Sinister Peak is farther than I expect, but the stunning scenery and a bit of glissading make it feel quicker.
Steamy mist bellowing from the mountains to the east makes me want to let out a “yodelayee” myself…
but the corniced landscape along the Chickamin Glacier gives me pause! … No “yodelaying” please!
Mountains stretch majestically across the horizon, with glacial features along the way providing an up-close and personal encounter with nature’s wild side. My steps sink into the soft white canvas as I descend ever closer towards the Cirque de Sinister.
The Chickamin Glacier is a snowpack dating back hundreds of thousands of years. Mature glacial snow, recrystallized countless times, creates beautiful blue hues radiating from her ancient ice, like nothing else on Earth. Passing beneath her looming snow cliffs, I feel the weight of time frozen in her ancient layers. It’s why we rope up on these massive mounds of ancient snow, respecting the hidden crevasses and ice caves that lie beneath the fresh white carpet.
From the base of the Cirque, I peer into an open crevasse, marveling at the wonders within. From her soul to mine, I pause to take it in before starting my ascent.
Northwest cirque of Sinister, with the path to the saddle clearly visible.
Northwest cirque of Sinister, approaching from the west.
Summiteers on Sinister
I ascend Sinister’s northwest cirque and am rewarded with a spectacular view of Glacier Peak from the saddle. I catch up with the faceless voices I’d heard earlier that morning from within my tent at a challenging gully east of the saddle…
…which leads to the west ridge of Sinister, and onward to the ultimate triumph—reaching the summit!
Descent and Return: Our rap at the gulch has a major glitch. A precariously positioned boulder is loose, wedged beneath a larger one. Prying it out might set off a major landslide with people at the bottom. So, we rappel carefully, rock looming overhead. Safely down, we gear up for the trek out.
Down the cirque…
up past the beautiful glacial formations,
we make our way back.
Up the Chickamin Glacier, with Gunsight Peak in the rear view.
up the home stretch
The Chickamin Glacier descends into the abyssal bowl below, framed by magnificent mountains in the distance.
Approaching Dome’s col…
I take one last look back on Sinister.
With rain in the forecast, my mind is set on making it back to Downey Creek TH by dark. This doesn’t happen. By following my GPS, I miss the upper crossing and instead of a gentle stroll through the forest, I get shanghaied in the bushwack willows of Batchelor Creek. I set up camp by the Downey/Batchelor Creek junction and skirt out the following morning.
Ode to Dome
My GPS track starts at by Mule Lake. This is way off route, but my return route through here is good. If you zoom in you’ll notice there is only one track from here to the TH. This is my return route. I recommend deviating from this route between 4,050 ft elevation to 4,450 ft elevation and staying on the north side of the creek. My return route on the south side through this section is no bueno! Happy Hiking.
