Whitehorse Mountain Attempt
Updated: Jul 12
4/26/2026
Whitehorse Mountain is one of those must-climb mountains in Washington. If you’ve ever driven through the town of Darrington, you’ve undoubtedly noticed its rugged cliffs rising some 6,000 feet above the valley. I’ve long wondered what it would be like to traverse the So-Bahli-Alhi Glacier and stand on the summit, and that feeling has only grown stronger the more times I’ve driven past.
There is a relatively narrow window for climbing Whitehorse. Go too early in the season and the route exposes climbers to significant avalanche risk, go too late, and the moat opens up below the summit block and tricky, fifth class climbing awaits.
I was excited and a tad nervous when Brad suggested Whitehorse for late April. The mountain has a lot of lore and there are many accounts of failed attempts, but it seemed like the weather and snow conditions were lined up to give us the best chance of success.
We met at the Neiderprum trailhead the night before and set our alarms for the 2 o’clock hour in anticipation of a 3 am start. Whitehorse is a long day, and it is imperative to mitigate avalanche and rotten snow conditions by starting early.
The next morning, we were off by a respectable 3:10, making quick time on the relatively flat first 1.1 miles, which provided a nice warmup. We eventually hit a turnoff and began quickly gaining elevation. The trail was easy to follow and we made quick progress. There were only a few sections of blowdowns where the trail was harder to find.
We encountered patchy snow at around 3400’ and it quickly became consistent. Thankfully, because it was early, it was still supportive and post-holing wasn’t an issue. At this point, the sun was coming up, and we could see the long, exposed traverse to Lone Tree Pass. I could certainly picture this being an avalanche-prone gauntlet under the wrong conditions, but thanks to the low snow year, it seems like everything was consolidated and there was just about 0 chance of anything moving on that slope. There was some evidence of old wet slides, but those seemed like they could have been from weeks ago.
The final climb up to the pass was a grunt, and we reached it in 3 hours and 45 minutes from the trailhead. I’m curious why the pass is named the way it is, because there was certainly not one stand out tree, it seemed like a garden-variety forested pass to me.
Above the pass, we ran into a big party who had camped there on the ridge the previous night. Talking to them was our first indication that conditions might not be as perfect as we were hoping for on the summit block. They had been stymied by rime ice and sketchy mixed climbing the day before. This news was slightly disheartening, but we were still determined to go find out for ourselves.
Beyond the pass there is a beautiful open area on the ridge where you can see the intimidating cliffs of Whitehorse, which made for a nice break spot. We were curious why the campers didn’t choose this location for their overnight stay.
The next segment of our journey involved dropping off the west side of the ridge, giving up a few hundred feet in the process. Due to the sparse snow cover, we had to make some careful moves through here to traverse below cliff bands.
Once that was done, we made a long, rising traverse to the entrance to the glacier. This section was deceptively long, and the final climb up to the pass was the physical crux of the day in my opinion.
Stepping out onto the So-Bahli-Ahli glacier was a somewhat magical experience for me. The terrain felt so big, and all the features of the huge, white expanse had been softened by some relatively recent snowfall. Beyond the edge of the glacier, it looked like the world just dropped off five thousand feet straight down to the green valley below. This glacier crossing was a climbing bucket-list item for me.
As we traversed the mellow slopes, we could see up to the summit ahead, and there was a small figure trying to piece together a route to the very top. Conditions looked rough, simply put. The final bit to the summit can be a moderately steep snow slope if timing is right, but this year had already melted back to reveal significant steep rock, an opening moat, and plentiful rime ice.
The climber we had seen attempting to puzzle together a solution had since backed off, and he and his partner came down to discuss their options with us. They were equipped with ice screws, and he was very enthusiastic about teaming up to find a way to get everyone on the summit, but I knew in my gut that today was not my day to summit Whitehorse.
I tapped out quickly and was content to just take in the grandeur of the glacier and the beautiful views, while Brad, our enthusiastic recent acquaintance, and a newly arrived solo climber made another attempt to see if there was a plausible way. Despite having the gear and boldness to piece something together, the conditions turned everyone back again. I guess it just wasn’t the weekend for success on Whitehorse, and that’s ok because it gives me a chance to come back to this epic place.
We called our “summit” a group of rocks to the east of the true summit, where you could really get a sense of how steep and dangerous the summit block looked. I didn’t need any more reassurance to know that my decision not to try was a good one, but this was it if I did. I’ll choose to come back when it’s a snow climb all the way.
The trip back down the So-Bahli-Ahli was just as stunning as the way up, with some cool clouds moving in to change the lighting. The traverse back to Lone Tree Pass was a slog again, but the snow had stayed relatively supportive, which was appreciated.
This changed as we descended from the pass. There was a real risk of plunging to your waist at any moment, and we both had some funny ones, especially as we began to re-enter the trees and the snow started to thin.
We eventually got back to dry ground and were both feeling quite worked at this point, so took a quick break and got ready for the steep descent to the valley floor. The descent went smoothly, and we got to appreciate the beauty of the mossy forest that we had missed in the dark on our way up.
We got back to the cars 13 hours and 52 minutes after leaving them, which I felt pretty good about, considering we spent quite a while scheming near the summit block. I was thrilled to have stepped foot on the glacier, and the pain has already been forgotten, so I’m looking forward to coming back and striking when the timing is right some future year.
Final Stats: 11.2 miles / 6650 feet of gain
Comments