July 2019, the Tooth, Snoqualmie, Washington

At 2:45 am we called it. The snaffelhounds had won. As we decided whether or not to rap down, we whipped our lights around, looking for those little beady eyed monsters. What brought us to this point you ask?

I had been wanting to climb the Tooth to help get my foot into alpine climbing. The Tooth is a route close to Seattle that goes at a pretty chill 5.4. So our plan was to hike and climb July 3rd, summit, bivy on the summit, and hike back down in the morning in time to get to our 4th of July picnic. Tyler had done this climb twice already, already sleeping at the top before, so we decided it was the perfect opportunity for me to take lead and plan the full trip. I researched for beta on the hike and climb, planned our timeline, and failed to account for how heavy our packs would be due to carrying up 8 liters of water between us.

At 2:30 pm, we left the house and started the hour long drive from Seattle down I-90 east to exit 52. Tyler made fun of me because I didn’t know how to pronounce Alpental Road. We parked at the Source Lake trailhead which was bustling with people finishing up for the day, and then placed our NW forest pass/national park pass out while judging the people who incorrectly displayed a Discover Pass for the WA state parks. We started hiking toward Source Lake at 3:43pm. This portion was 2 miles. My beta had told me to find a talus field at this point near the lake. Since I wasn’t sure what this was, Google informed me it was a rock field up to the size of houses. This rock field is, at best, dog house size.

I am not the best trail finder. The clouds were covering the peaks so I had to try to find the trail without those landmarks. As I stared at the paths, trying to figure out which one to choose, I uncertainly pick the correct one. Tyler pointed out the way I chose when boot prints in the snow. I had seen them, however had figured it was a different path. I was reminded by Tyler that the simplest option is normally the correct one when in the alpine. Noted. We got to the end of the talus field around 4:40. I thought that meant we were on schedule. Ty said we were behind schedule because it’s the alpine so you’re always behind.

Now the beta online is not that specific on the extent of the final portion of the approach. The last mile is pretty brutal if you’re not in the best shape. The beta says go up a steep slope and cross the creek high. It meant steep. It was buzzing with mosquitos and it would never end. It was hard to find the trail, so we were constantly switching between dirt and rock while getting attacked by bugs.

I had hoped we’d start on rock by 7. But by the time we reached the basin, it was already 6 o’clock. I was getting frustrated. And then I looked up. And up on a small cliff on the left side of the basin was one of my majestic friends. With a squeal of delight, I picked up my pace and ascended up the basin trying to keep pace with the mountain goat who was making his across the cliff. As I followed his path 100 yards below him, I remembered why I was out here. I was revitalized. Tyler said he’d never seen me hike so fast in my life. I imagine the little guy is one of the goats who got relocated from the Olympics because he had a collar on that I assume was tracking his location to see if he made it in his new home. I waved goodbye to him and continued on my way. As quickly as it arrived, my goat fueled adrenaline waned. The rock basin was taxing. As we stood in the last flat section of the approach, we had a decision to make. Did we stop here, set up camp, and ascend in the morning? Or did we push on and potentially have to finish in the dark? We chose the latter. We trekked up the rock field with rocks twisting and sliding beneath our feet. Finally we reached Pineapple Pass at 6:40. Looking at it was intimidating. So we followed the suggested beta to scramble up and behind the notch to the left of Pineapple Pass.

Even this portion of the trip took longer than anticipated. After scrambling up left of the notch, you had to hike down a steep hill with loose dirt and roots. This immediately made us realize we did not want to hike back up it on the return, which was an option we had read in the beta. We finally reached the base of the climb and were ready to start around 7:30. We had decided to stash our trekking poles and some empty water bottles at the base to lighten our load since we both had a climb with our overnight packs.

As I started up the first pitch, even though it was 5 easy, I felt frazzled. My center of balance was off with my 35 liter pack and I was exhausted from the approach. I was trying the “classic” route where you go right of the slanting crack up whitish colored rock. I got to the first belay station and belayed Tyler up to me. Pitch 2 was climbing up some big blocks to a big ledge and up a corner. When I got to the big ledge though, I heard voices. When I looked down towards the base, I saw a team of two men racking up. We hadn’t expected to see anyone else at this point in our adventure. Why were two men starting the climb at 8 pm and were they planning on sleeping on top as well?

I started off on pitch 3 when their leader was reaching the top of pitch 2. Their goal was to quickly simul climb the route and then descend in the dark. It was a bold plan but gave me some peace of mind to know I wouldn’t have to rush to claim a bivy spot.

Pitch 3 was some fun 4th class climbing. I placed little pro and weaved in and out of trees and large blocks as the sun started to set. I set up my belay right before the head wall. My goal initially was to try the catwalk portion of the final pitch due to its high ratings. However, I didn’t see it. And it was getting close to 9pm. I climbed up some small ledges about 10 feet then decided the system slightly right looked more enjoyable. I believe I’d started up the 5.7 portion then traversed over and up the 5.6 option. By 9 pm, I was belaying Tyler up to the summit. We shared a high 5 then quickly divvied up duties. By the time the other team had summited at 9:15, we had our bivies set up and water boiling for our mountain houses.

The top of the Tooth has room for about 3 bivies to be comfortable. There are two adjoining ledges right below the summit and a lower ledge about 10 feet down. Unfortunately, the top ledge was currently housing some puddles. So we figured out if we staggered slightly, we could both squeeze onto the 2nd ledge. Tyler set his up on the more level part and I used the rope to level out my a portion for my torso. Less than 5 minutes later, we were alone again. As we ate our glorious dinner of chicken teriyaki and chicken and rice, we looked towards the ground in search of their headlamps. But aside from occasional car headlights in the distance we were completely alone. …er well we thought we were. I opened up our dessert- a Tupperware containing 2 Mighty-O donuts, and sat it on the rock right beside me. As we debriefed on how my beta matched up with the actual route, I looked down to grab a bite of my blueberry donut and saw a small mouse silently trying to climb into the container! As I snatched my donut from his path, he scurried away into the crack between some rocks. Because now we knew the little guy is not scared of our presence, we decided to stick our remaining trail snacks inside of the metal MSR pot we use to boil water and closed and locked the lid on top. We climbed into our sleeping bags and tried to look for stars through the clouds rolling in but I couldn’t make out any of the constellations that I know. As we finally drifted into sleep, we heard the sound of metal clunking into rock. I grabbed my headlamp to check on the snacks. Everything still appeared to be in order. But then I looked at Tyler’s backpack. The shoulder strap was now missing a chunk of fabric. As he looked over at the frayed fabric, I realized how close the little guy had been to me. Now I’ve had a mouse try to crawl into my ear before, and it’s not a pleasant experience. So I decided it was time to zip up the mesh on my bivy so I could feel safe and secure. I started dosing off again.

I’m jolted awake by a yell and the feeling of Tyler kicking my legs off the small ledge. Apparently something had jumped from the upper ledge onto Tyler’s bivy and startled him. As I drifted back into sleep I hear something near my head. I asked Tyler if he heard it. He didn’t and said I should go back to sleep. But as I closed my eyes, I could still hear some rustling and decided to check it out anyway. When I shined the light towards my pack, I saw a shadow running from my pack into the rock. Did I imagine it? It looked bigger than the small mouse who had been harassing us before. Then he popped out of another crack in the rock. I shouted for him to go away but he just sat there staring at me with his beady eyes. He was very large. He was as big as my hiking boot. And then Tyler saw him and was also astonished at his size. I tossed a rock over to try to make some noise but it didn’t scare him. So I picked a slightly larger one and tried again. He scurried into the unknown. I grabbed some larger stones and covered up the hole right by my head. Ty pointed out that he would just find another one, but I still felt better. I kept my light shined that direction, for a few minutes and occasionally whipped it around to check on the packs and the food. After what felt like an eternity, we decided he was gone and laid back down for more sleep. It couldn’t have been less than 5 minutes before Tyler yelled again while kicking my feet off the ledge. Again. This time when the snaffelhound jumped on Tyler, rather than running away when Tyler yelled, he ran towards Tyler’s face.
It’s 2:45 am. We’re exhausted and annoyed. As we try to decide if we should rappel down now, we whipped our headlamps around trying to make sure the snaffelhounds wouldn’t come back. Since we have cell phone service we were able to figure out civil twilight is at 4:40 am. Our plan is to brew some coffee, sit in our sleeping bags on the actual summit, and chat. We begin listening to a podcast, are able to find the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia, and I begin to write this piece. Ty points out that we haven’t seen a rodent in awhile so maybe it’s safe to go back to sleep. As if on cue, we see one run across the rock beside me. Nope, not safe to sleep. A liter of coffee and an Instagram post later, it’s civil twilight. We make breakfast (apple crisp mountain house) and begin to pack up. By 5:50 am we are rappelling into the foggy morning.

Our first rappel takes us to the start of pitch 2. When I start the second rappel, I look down and am startled to see someone leading up the second pitch. When she got a piece into the rock and clipped her rope in, I calmly say good morning. She quickly looks up, surprised to see another party so early.

Our third rappel took us to the base of the climb. I walk over to retrieve our stashed items and who had visited the site? Snafflehounds. 3 out of 4 of our hiking poles are now missing the straps. And the grip handles on the two nicer ones were now riddled with bite marks. Feeling defeated once again by these rodents of unusual size, we do two rappels to descend Pineapple pass.

My goat friend is not here to greet me this morning, our gear is ruined, and we’re exhausted physically and mentally. Trying to scramble down the rock field and steep path is slow work with our low morale. Tyler spots a marmot and I accuse him of making it up just to speed me up. Regardless, I do speed up but cannot find the little friend. All I find is a tick on my shirt. On our hike out, we pass somewhere between 20-30 people heading towards the Tooth, hopefully to have less excitement than we did.

*Snaffelhound is a term from the Fred Beckey guides to describe unidentified rodents in the alpine that chew up gear