Mount Buckner
- Sep 2, 2023
- 4 min read
Updated: Feb 2
9/2/2023
Mount Buckner is one of Washington’s 9000-foot peaks, and the highest point in Skagit County. Kyle, Brad, and I visited the summit in early September (which I’m not sure I would recommend) in a
dawn to dusk effort.
After a night spent at the Cascade Pass trailhead, we got up before first light and were moving shortly before 5 am. The switchbacks were as numerous and well-graded as ever, and before long we were coming into Cascade Pass. The first hints of a sunrise were starting to show back in the direction of Eldorado, and we were treated to a nice cloud and light show at the pass as the sun began to rise in earnest.
The hike up to the glacier camp was super scenic in the soft morning light, and we found ourselves at the camp at around 7:45 am. The views of the North Cascades from this vantage point are top-notch and the campers who had secured a permit to sleep overnight here were lucky to have a nice morning on their hands. While they got to sip coffee and take in the views, we were off to a world of loose rock and self-inflicted masochism.
We traversed east of the camp before making a loose, angling descent toward a large rib coming down from Sahale Mountain. No matter how careful we were in this section, rocks would move and slide unexpectedly. Upon reaching the rib, we were able to follow it steeply down for a few hundred feet, losing precious elevation in the process. Our goal was to reach Horseshoe Basin, and we had to drop all the way to about 6700’ to find a safe place to do so.
Here, we found a notch in the ridge and the location of the “snow finger” that we had read about. Climbers in early season can make a steep downclimb on snow to Horseshoe Basin here, but we were confronted with a bare, loose rock funnel.
We went one at a time, picking our way gingerly down this slope for a hundred feet or so until the slope angle eased. When one person would get down, they would move out of the fall line, signaling that it was safe for the next climber to come down.
Once past this bit of excitement, we found ourselves in the basin on some pleasantly solid rock. We were able to use these glacier carved expanses of bedrock to make great time as we angled northeast through the basin at approximately 6600’. This was a pretty part of the climb, and we encountered many small waterfalls pouring off the Davenport Glacier above us.
We eventually reached an old mine, complete with rusted tracks and equipment that looked straight out of an Indiana Jones movie. I’m fascinated by the mining history in this remote, inaccessible location.
The good times had to come to an end eventually, because our blessed granite bedrock had given way to more loose rubble and scree fields. It looked like this would continue essentially all the way to the summit. We started a rising traverse, trying not to get too exhausted by the shifting loose rock beneath our feet. We passed below Horseshoe Peak, a pointy spire that is somehow included on the Bulger List. (I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to come back for this arbitrary highpoint on Ripsaw Ridge – I’ll likely go in earlier season with more snow cover).
Beyond this point, the slope began to steepen, and we entered true scree treadmill terrain. Everything moved on this slope, and there were times when I resorted to moving on all fours in an attempt to spread my weight out and remain balanced. This section would involve some semi-steep snow earlier in the year, but I think that would be much more pleasant than what we encountered – and this is coming from someone that much prefers rock to snow.
We eventually reached the summit (thankfully Eric Gilbertson had put the debate over which of the two summits is taller to rest, so we happily parked ourselves on the SW summit) and savored the spectacular views. The perspective on the Boston Glacier was particularly epic – what a huge expanse of ice!
We weren’t particularly looking forward to the down-climb but were actually able to do a bit of scree surfing which made it much more efficient than the climb up. Reaching the more solid rock on the west side of the basin was still a godsend, though.
The climb up the snowless snow-finger was likewise easier on the return, and we soon found ourselves reascending the Sahale Peak rib back to the glacier camp. It was fun to be at the glacier camp in the early morning and late afternoon in one day.
The hike down was really pretty, and the sun was getting close to disappearing below the horizon by the time we reached Cascade Pass. We strolled into the trailhead 16 and a half hours after we left it, in what turned out to be one of my longest single days in the mountains ever. I’m happy to have shared it with Brad and Kyle, although I think we all agreed that we’d prefer to do this trip with more snow cover.
Final Stats: 18 miles / 7769 feet of gain
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