The Wolverine Tour
aka North Central Cascades Traverse
May 18-26, 2025
Trip Report
aka North Central Cascades Traverse
May 18-26, 2025
Trip Report
Wolverine tracks below Napeequa Peak
It is rare that I want to repeat a long ski traverse. Yet the North Central Cascades Traverse - with its consistent fall line beauty - kept nagging at me for a second chance.
Back in May 2011, after years of meticulous planning, I set out with three of my main touring partners to ski from Holden Village to the North Fork of The Sauk River. The primary route includes multiple fall line descents over 2500’ with options galore. During this original 8-day crossing, we only saw the sun for a few minutes as we were usually engulfed in gray. I was shooting more bearings with my compass than photographs with my camera. Pre “blue dot” era, the paper maps were out often, syncing with altimeter readings from my watch, and I made a navigational blunder that pushed us away from the planned high route to Buck Creek Pass. While the lack of visibility and detour were unfortunate, we caught glimpses of just how grand our surroundings were. In the following years I returned to ski off Chiwawa & Fortress, but the full link-up of the traverse still intrigued me.
In summer 2024, I decided to see if I could get the band back together for some redemption. All three original teammates (Adam Vognild, Peter Avolio, and Rob Bolton) quickly committed and we set dates. We would launch on May 18, 2025 with 10 days to complete the route with options to spend a couple of nights based in the same camps. The first two-night stay would come right away to both lighten loads and explore phenomenal ski terrain at the head of the Entiat River.
Snowpack was considerably less than in 2011, and rather than starting the trip on skins just outside Holden Village, we hiked for an hour and a half up the summer trail into Copper Creek with skis on our back. A few hours later, we were on the col between Fernow & Buckskin eyeing the many great ski opportunities for the following day before making our first turns of the trip down into the Entiat.
Back in May 2011, after years of meticulous planning, I set out with three of my main touring partners to ski from Holden Village to the North Fork of The Sauk River. The primary route includes multiple fall line descents over 2500’ with options galore. During this original 8-day crossing, we only saw the sun for a few minutes as we were usually engulfed in gray. I was shooting more bearings with my compass than photographs with my camera. Pre “blue dot” era, the paper maps were out often, syncing with altimeter readings from my watch, and I made a navigational blunder that pushed us away from the planned high route to Buck Creek Pass. While the lack of visibility and detour were unfortunate, we caught glimpses of just how grand our surroundings were. In the following years I returned to ski off Chiwawa & Fortress, but the full link-up of the traverse still intrigued me.
In summer 2024, I decided to see if I could get the band back together for some redemption. All three original teammates (Adam Vognild, Peter Avolio, and Rob Bolton) quickly committed and we set dates. We would launch on May 18, 2025 with 10 days to complete the route with options to spend a couple of nights based in the same camps. The first two-night stay would come right away to both lighten loads and explore phenomenal ski terrain at the head of the Entiat River.
Snowpack was considerably less than in 2011, and rather than starting the trip on skins just outside Holden Village, we hiked for an hour and a half up the summer trail into Copper Creek with skis on our back. A few hours later, we were on the col between Fernow & Buckskin eyeing the many great ski opportunities for the following day before making our first turns of the trip down into the Entiat.
Peter skiing into the Head of the Entiat. Rob Bolton photo
With snow forecast throughout the morning of Day 2, we slept in before skinning away from camp with light day packs. A couple inches had already accumulated and it was still snowing. Less than fifteen minutes from leaving camp, I noticed movement up to our left and saw a dark-colored, medium-sized mammal traversing the slope above us. I quickly announced “wolverine” so the crew could also get eyes on it. The animal paused and looked at us. I grew less certain and thought maybe I was simply staring at a marmot, a common trap for the overly-optimistic wolverine seeker. Then it loped, the slightly askew gallop characteristic to wolverines, and I was back to almost positive. We all watched it stride up to the base of the rocks, probably working the moats at the bottom of the cliffs for a potential meal. It continued south and up slope to the east of North Spectacle Butte. A few minutes later we crossed its tracks, which helped confirm the sighting.
Holy crap, it finally happened! I saw a wolverine! Good vibrations buzzed through my veins. I had long kept an eye out for these elusive mountain dwellers and often seen their tracks in the snow, sometimes just minutes after they made them. Friends at the Cascade Wolverine Project have helped educate me on what to look for and I am always excited when I have new observations to share with them. This observation would be extra special!
After a short ski down onto the upper Ice Lake, we continued up the south side of Maude keeping a few ski descent options open. Clouds continued to sink lower with some blowing snow. Soon we found ourselves under a growing cornice off Maude’s southeast ridge and any route to continue up would put us in likely wind slab. As we grouped up in a safe spot, a golden eagle appeared and soared down the slope we had just ascended, as if it was showing us the safest route down in these conditions. All team members quickly agreed with the eagles’ path and we enjoyed smooth turns in a wintery scene.
Day 3 started with nearly ideal conditions for our climb up the south side of Fernow: mostly clear skies, cold temps, and firm snow surfaces. We smoothly ascended the south side of Fernow to the col at 8850’.
After a short ski down onto the upper Ice Lake, we continued up the south side of Maude keeping a few ski descent options open. Clouds continued to sink lower with some blowing snow. Soon we found ourselves under a growing cornice off Maude’s southeast ridge and any route to continue up would put us in likely wind slab. As we grouped up in a safe spot, a golden eagle appeared and soared down the slope we had just ascended, as if it was showing us the safest route down in these conditions. All team members quickly agreed with the eagles’ path and we enjoyed smooth turns in a wintery scene.
Day 3 started with nearly ideal conditions for our climb up the south side of Fernow: mostly clear skies, cold temps, and firm snow surfaces. We smoothly ascended the south side of Fernow to the col at 8850’.
Climbing out of the Entiat with previous day's descent finishing from col above Adam.
The descent started by walking down on rocks to reach continuous snow, not unlike what was needed in 2011. Then what should be a 3000’+ ski line. In 2011, we skied continuously on moderate north facing slopes before turning left onto steeper west aspects and then a fun southwest chute into the head of Big Creek. This year, we ran into a snowless section on the steeper west aspects around 7300’ that required booting down rocks and steep heather.
Booting down what was all snow in 2011. Peter Avolio photo
After setting up camp at ~5700’, we enjoyed a late-day ski with light packs on one of many great NW facing lines west of Seven Fingered Jack.
Day 4 brought more challenges from lack of snowpack. Climbing northwest to Dumbell Lake required some Cascadian bushwacking in steep snowless terrain from 5800-6300’. Skiing off the col between Dumbell & Greenwood, we found similar challenges per our 2011 descent. While the map shows less steep terrain far skier’s right, both trips through here found big sections of rock exposed by large glide avalanches. We stayed slightly skier’s right enjoying smooth turns before running out of snow. In 2011, we found a way to stay on snow through a steep constriction but this year the route ran went dry. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find a goat path (good walking ledge) that wrapped left through the large cliff band at ~6200’. In a deeper snowpack than either of these two attempts, the main gully fall line from the col should go.
Day 4 brought more challenges from lack of snowpack. Climbing northwest to Dumbell Lake required some Cascadian bushwacking in steep snowless terrain from 5800-6300’. Skiing off the col between Dumbell & Greenwood, we found similar challenges per our 2011 descent. While the map shows less steep terrain far skier’s right, both trips through here found big sections of rock exposed by large glide avalanches. We stayed slightly skier’s right enjoying smooth turns before running out of snow. In 2011, we found a way to stay on snow through a steep constriction but this year the route ran went dry. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find a goat path (good walking ledge) that wrapped left through the large cliff band at ~6200’. In a deeper snowpack than either of these two attempts, the main gully fall line from the col should go.
Enjoying a moment before finding route through cliff band
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Goat path through cliff band. Peter Avolio photo
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Later that evening at camp next to Upper Lyman Lake, I thought about the wolverine we saw and how the lack of snow might affect it. Certainly, it could travel through steep alder and rock quicker than we had. These mammals are amazing mountain travelers, and I especially admire their efficiency in steep complex terrain. However, the first few months of life for a wolverine are spent hidden from predators deep in the snow. After giving birth in a natal den below tree line in mid-winter, the mother often relocates her kits to a higher elevation den, typically 8-10’ under snow. The youngsters will finally leave these dens in May. In bad snow years, backcountry skiers may choose to move a spring traverse up a few weeks, or relocate to higher elevations to fit a scheduled date, or cancel to use the time for other pursuits. But the young wolverines may be forced to leave a den early, exposed to predators and bad weather before learning necessary survival skills.
Bringing my mind back to the present at the edge of upper Lyman Lake, I gathered all the gear I had been drying and gazed back up at Chiwawa. Would the visibility remain good allowing for a straightforward crossing over the summit? Even with an additional 14 years of personal and professional experience since 2011, I knew our likelihood of success would be greater with decent visibility. Wolverines, on the other hand, are born with great mountain sense, travelling up and over challenging terrain no matter the weather.
Day 5 started with low clouds and I was prepared to put my learnings to good use. But the skies cleared as we climbed higher, providing a straightforward ascent up the northeast side of Chiwawa.
Bringing my mind back to the present at the edge of upper Lyman Lake, I gathered all the gear I had been drying and gazed back up at Chiwawa. Would the visibility remain good allowing for a straightforward crossing over the summit? Even with an additional 14 years of personal and professional experience since 2011, I knew our likelihood of success would be greater with decent visibility. Wolverines, on the other hand, are born with great mountain sense, travelling up and over challenging terrain no matter the weather.
Day 5 started with low clouds and I was prepared to put my learnings to good use. But the skies cleared as we climbed higher, providing a straightforward ascent up the northeast side of Chiwawa.
Rob nearing the summit ridge of Chiwawa. Peter Avolio photo
After a quick celebration on the summit, we descended southwest on initially firm snow requiring some heads-up sideslipping before more relaxed turns, to finally hero corn. Another 2500+ descent in wild country.
Adam on the upper SW slope of Chiwawa. Rob Bolton photo
Soon we crossed the targeted col at 7700’ on Fortress’s south ridge before our last ski of the day to a camp below Pass No Pass. The successful travel day ended with a unique wildlife observation likely associated with wolverines. Near our camp were the remains of a porcupine. Remains as in a bunch of quills, some skin and fur, and a couple teeth. No sign of any meat or bones. The pile was discovered under a group of trees ~100’ from the bottom of an avalanche path with old debris, and I quickly imagined a wolverine discovering the porcupine carcass in the debris and dragging it to a more protected site before devouring it. Building confidence in this hypothesis was a nearby scat with quills in it.
Porcupine quills and fur
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Scat, most likely from a wolverine, nearby pile of quills & fur
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Friends at the Cascade Wolverine Project later informed me that coyotes also eat porcupines (including their quills) but based on the context of the surroundings, this scat was most likely from a wolverine.
The next day we travelled south on/near the crest where the snow quickly turned to mush from the sun and warming temperatures. Spacing became important while traversing below overhead hazard but we still had plenty of safe moments to relish in the views around us. Fernow, Seven Fingered Jack, and Maude dominated the eastern skyline reminding us where this journey began, while Chiwawa & Fortress highlighted the previous day’s environs. To the south were the snowy north aspects of Neyah Point, Challangin, Luahna, & Clark highlighting many descent options along the Dakobed Traverse. More immediate to our location were Buck, Berge, Cleator, Circque, and Napeequa, all of which were options for a day trip the following morning.
North of High Pass, we joined wolverine tracks heading south. They conveniently led us down the intended route into the south-facing valley bordering Berge & Napeequa. We found an elevated hump safe from potential avalanche paths in the middle of the valley at ~6000 to set up camp and decided to climb and ski the east slopes of Napeequa the following morning.
The next day we travelled south on/near the crest where the snow quickly turned to mush from the sun and warming temperatures. Spacing became important while traversing below overhead hazard but we still had plenty of safe moments to relish in the views around us. Fernow, Seven Fingered Jack, and Maude dominated the eastern skyline reminding us where this journey began, while Chiwawa & Fortress highlighted the previous day’s environs. To the south were the snowy north aspects of Neyah Point, Challangin, Luahna, & Clark highlighting many descent options along the Dakobed Traverse. More immediate to our location were Buck, Berge, Cleator, Circque, and Napeequa, all of which were options for a day trip the following morning.
North of High Pass, we joined wolverine tracks heading south. They conveniently led us down the intended route into the south-facing valley bordering Berge & Napeequa. We found an elevated hump safe from potential avalanche paths in the middle of the valley at ~6000 to set up camp and decided to climb and ski the east slopes of Napeequa the following morning.
Heading south, along with day old wolverine tracks, over High Pass. Rob Bolton photo
With warm temps and a clear sky, Peter and I chose to fall asleep with our shelter’s front door open. Sipping coffee the next morning from the comforts of our sleeping bags was extra special. For starters, the coffee grounds from Lighthouse were brewed to perfection in a Bialetti by one of the biggest coffee aficionados I know, Peter Avolio. As the first to label this system a poor weight decision for a long ski traverse, I was months past this team compromise and grateful to be enjoying some of the best coffee I’ve ever had as I admired the blue hour transition to golden hour on the north side of Clark Mountain. I took an extra moment to appreciate that we were in prime wolverine country.
Morning blue hour on Clark Mt
This zone of the Cascades, specifically between the upper Suiattle/Honeycomb Glaciers to High Pass, is where I have seen the most wolverine tracks. Maybe it is because I have spent a good amount of time recreating in this zone or maybe because it is a very snowy part of the Cascades far from human access points. We had not seen any sign (even a skin track or boot print) of humans since leaving Holden Village six days ago. Yet we had multiple days of seeing signs of wolverines, including recent tracks we followed into this valley just yesterday. I appreciated the reality that we were brief visitors in these wild mammal’s territory and had an odd sense that we would see a wolverine again.
Only a couple minutes later, still from the comfort of my sleeping bag sipping great coffee, I saw a wolverine coming up the east side of the valley. This time I didn’t yell but softly spoke to inform our crew. This sighting was extraordinary as the wolverine had not yet noticed us and we got to observe it in a natural state. The wolverine cruised south a couple hundred feet above the valley floor through a common debris zone for avalanches falling west. In addition to always looking for food, it was marking territory with urine.
Only a couple minutes later, still from the comfort of my sleeping bag sipping great coffee, I saw a wolverine coming up the east side of the valley. This time I didn’t yell but softly spoke to inform our crew. This sighting was extraordinary as the wolverine had not yet noticed us and we got to observe it in a natural state. The wolverine cruised south a couple hundred feet above the valley floor through a common debris zone for avalanches falling west. In addition to always looking for food, it was marking territory with urine.
Before it recognized us, we saw it spend a couple minutes sniffing around a small tree island. We grew excited that it might be a den but the wolverine moved on. It probably smelled potential food or competition where it felt important to mark the area more robustly. Who knows. As I continue to learn more about wolverines, it is clear we still have much to discover about this amazing creature.
As a fellow mountain traveler, I have always admired, with jealousy, their aptness to roam their high mountain habitat. They clearly understand the craft of setting “a good track.” The largest in the weasel family, wolverines have disproportionately enormous paws to help them travel efficiently through snow. While their track angle may be steeper than we backcountry tourers like, their ascent gradient is consistent. Research in Glacier National Park discovered a collared wolverine climb the near vertical south face of Mt. Cleveland in mid-winter. Two facts from this recorded ascent help illuminate the wolverine’s superior mountain skills for us bipeds. One, this wolverine climbed 4900 vertical feet in 90 minutes. Two, the route has never been climbed by humans, including a failed summer attempt by experienced mountaineers trying to repeat the known wolverine route. Biologists hypothesize that the wolverine was simply using the shortest route to get from one part of its territory to the next as if the terrain was flat.
On Day 7 of the traverse, still buzzing from this long sighting, we set out with day packs up the east slopes of Napeequa. It wasn’t long before we saw more wolverine tracks. These were heading south along the west side of the valley and recent enough to most likely be from the wolverine we saw that morning. As we climbed higher, we saw that the wolverine tracks entered this basin from a high col north of Napeequa Peak and south of Cirque Mt. It appeared to have had a productive early morning covering most of this basin. We hoped to ski one line.
As a fellow mountain traveler, I have always admired, with jealousy, their aptness to roam their high mountain habitat. They clearly understand the craft of setting “a good track.” The largest in the weasel family, wolverines have disproportionately enormous paws to help them travel efficiently through snow. While their track angle may be steeper than we backcountry tourers like, their ascent gradient is consistent. Research in Glacier National Park discovered a collared wolverine climb the near vertical south face of Mt. Cleveland in mid-winter. Two facts from this recorded ascent help illuminate the wolverine’s superior mountain skills for us bipeds. One, this wolverine climbed 4900 vertical feet in 90 minutes. Two, the route has never been climbed by humans, including a failed summer attempt by experienced mountaineers trying to repeat the known wolverine route. Biologists hypothesize that the wolverine was simply using the shortest route to get from one part of its territory to the next as if the terrain was flat.
On Day 7 of the traverse, still buzzing from this long sighting, we set out with day packs up the east slopes of Napeequa. It wasn’t long before we saw more wolverine tracks. These were heading south along the west side of the valley and recent enough to most likely be from the wolverine we saw that morning. As we climbed higher, we saw that the wolverine tracks entered this basin from a high col north of Napeequa Peak and south of Cirque Mt. It appeared to have had a productive early morning covering most of this basin. We hoped to ski one line.
Approximate wolverine routes we observed May 23-24
Conditions on the east/northeast side of Napeequa were primo with a firm surface just starting to soften. Ski crampons were helpful for most of the skinning before a final boot up the ridge with a short rocky scramble near the top. After admiring our surroundings, we downclimbed and clicked into skis to relish in 2000’ of effortless corn turns back down to camp.
Peter cruising down Napeequa Peak with Chiwawa upper right
We had contemplated skiing another line in this zone in the afternoon but with a forecast of increased warming we wanted to get closer to Tenpeak so we could cross its northern slopes in the early morning before much wet avalanche hazard.
After another drying/rehydrating session, we proceeded south toward the head of the Napeequa Valley. The final descent required some downhill bushwacking which was not a surprise for a south facing slope at about 5000’ this spring. The afternoon sun and extra-effort alder thrashing raised our body temperatures. Finally at the valley bottom, we dropped packs and bathed in the Napeequa River to both cool our cores and rinse seven days of grime off our skin. Cleansed and refreshed, we then cruised to the western end of the Napeequa and onto the saddle above Moth Lake. Sure enough, we saw more wolverine tracks, these looking 1-2 days old, coming up from Moth Lake heading east.
After another drying/rehydrating session, we proceeded south toward the head of the Napeequa Valley. The final descent required some downhill bushwacking which was not a surprise for a south facing slope at about 5000’ this spring. The afternoon sun and extra-effort alder thrashing raised our body temperatures. Finally at the valley bottom, we dropped packs and bathed in the Napeequa River to both cool our cores and rinse seven days of grime off our skin. Cleansed and refreshed, we then cruised to the western end of the Napeequa and onto the saddle above Moth Lake. Sure enough, we saw more wolverine tracks, these looking 1-2 days old, coming up from Moth Lake heading east.
Sunset over Dakobed (Glacier Peak). Peter Avolio photo
It was a magical day in the mountains. I went to sleep full of gratitude with just a tiny bit of uncertain anticipation of the next morning’s traverse under Tenpeak’s north slopes.
I’ve crossed under Tenpeak a handful of times and it is never a gimme. With overhead hazard throughout, there are a few gullies that collect frequent avalanches and can either hold large debris or be steep ravines to cross in what you hope are firm conditions. While a frozen surface adds some technical challenge in crossing these obstacles, it minimizes likelihood of new avalanches releasing from above.
Waking early on Day 8, we found the snow surface had not frozen overnight and we had slow travel in softening snow.
I’ve crossed under Tenpeak a handful of times and it is never a gimme. With overhead hazard throughout, there are a few gullies that collect frequent avalanches and can either hold large debris or be steep ravines to cross in what you hope are firm conditions. While a frozen surface adds some technical challenge in crossing these obstacles, it minimizes likelihood of new avalanches releasing from above.
Waking early on Day 8, we found the snow surface had not frozen overnight and we had slow travel in softening snow.
Rob enjoying a couple turns before the traverse under Tenpeak. Adam Vognild photo
After a few transitions, we finished the traverse and relaxed in safety on the large flat knob at 6000’ before dropping onto the lower Honeycomb Glacier. This basking session was extra chill as our forecast showed a storm coming in later that afternoon prohibiting ambitions to ski off the summit of Dakobed (Glacier Peak). We dried feet, melted snow, and savored our current whereabouts. Another crossing under Tenpeak without adequate conditions and/or time to try to ski one of many great lines as is often the case on long traverses. More favorable for the bigger trip, we had fantastic visibility, great weather, and generally good snowpack conditions throughout this adventure.
Eventually, we continued by descending onto the lower Honeycomb Glacier, then made a long easy skin up this beautiful piece of ice that is one of the longest in the North Cascades.
Eventually, we continued by descending onto the lower Honeycomb Glacier, then made a long easy skin up this beautiful piece of ice that is one of the longest in the North Cascades.
Upper Honeycomb Glacier. Peter Avolio photo
Resting next to the nunatak at ~7650’, we revisited our options to end this wonderful journey. There was lingering interest to ski off the summit of Dakobed. Through my never-ending education, I’ve learned to trust forecast trends as much or more than the actual forecast. Adam used his InReach again to gather an updated weather forecast. This time it showed the storm coming in hours later in the evening. Liking this trend, I figured we had a good chance to be on the summit before sunset. We quickly transitioned to downhill mode and descended north onto the Suiattle Glacier. We dropped camp gear, cooked and ate dinner, and soon were moving toward the summit with day packs. Easy skinning had us admiring our previous day’s route to the east while consistently gauging the incoming clouds to the west. Climbing up the final summit pitch, we became engulfed in clouds. We had plenty of time to ski back to camp before dark and with the way the high clouds had come and gone in the last hour, it was worth stalling on the summit. Sure enough, per the good fortune theme of this redemption tour, the high clouds dissipated and we found ourselves at the top of my favorite WA volcano with the sun setting over the growing cloud deck to the west. Unreal. We quickly began down, giggling with glee as we arced GS turns.
Turns off upper slope of Dakobed. Rob Bolton photo
Back at camp before dark, and just before the rain started, we threw up our pyramid shelters and slid into sleeping bags for our last night’s sleep out in the wild. I wondered if the wolverine(s) we had seen made it back to their dens before the rain. And did their den have an extra meal waiting for them like our camp did? Much more likely they were still outside scouring their territories for an overdue snack.
As climate change reduces the size of their territories, and hence opportunities for food and deep dens, the long-term survival of wolverines in the Cascades seems doubtful. And what about us backcountry snow sliders? Will we still be able to enjoy this recreational luxury in springtime outside of our bigger volcanoes? Directly correlating to necessary habitat for wolverines, our spring ski touring venues are shrinking as we chase lingering snowpacks up higher peaks and closer to the crest. It seems likely we’ll gather more observations of wolverines as we share this diminishing zone. How do we move forward with respect to these industrious mountain mammals and a growing intention to learn how best to share? Never know, us helping save wolverines may end up helping save our spring touring.
We woke our last morning, day 9, to clouds, some light drizzle, and never-ending mush. Slow surface conditions and knowing we were exiting this magical place had us moving with minimal motivation towards the trailhead. Unlike 2011, when we skied ~3000’ of fall line goodness to just above the North Fork of the Sauk River, this time we skied very little before transitioning to walking down the summer trail at ~5000'.
Walking out along the river, expressions of awe were shared by all for the huge old growth trees. Any plant life is a green welcome after spending a week in the alpine. Yet this exit amongst monstrous conifers was especially notable as a contrast to the trip’s entrance. We started walking out of Holden through burnt pine trees from a forest fire in 2015, coincidentally named “The Wolverine Fire.” It helped highlight the different ecosystems bookending this traverse. Our appreciation for nature was overfilling as is so often the case from a multi-day immersion.
As climate change reduces the size of their territories, and hence opportunities for food and deep dens, the long-term survival of wolverines in the Cascades seems doubtful. And what about us backcountry snow sliders? Will we still be able to enjoy this recreational luxury in springtime outside of our bigger volcanoes? Directly correlating to necessary habitat for wolverines, our spring ski touring venues are shrinking as we chase lingering snowpacks up higher peaks and closer to the crest. It seems likely we’ll gather more observations of wolverines as we share this diminishing zone. How do we move forward with respect to these industrious mountain mammals and a growing intention to learn how best to share? Never know, us helping save wolverines may end up helping save our spring touring.
We woke our last morning, day 9, to clouds, some light drizzle, and never-ending mush. Slow surface conditions and knowing we were exiting this magical place had us moving with minimal motivation towards the trailhead. Unlike 2011, when we skied ~3000’ of fall line goodness to just above the North Fork of the Sauk River, this time we skied very little before transitioning to walking down the summer trail at ~5000'.
Walking out along the river, expressions of awe were shared by all for the huge old growth trees. Any plant life is a green welcome after spending a week in the alpine. Yet this exit amongst monstrous conifers was especially notable as a contrast to the trip’s entrance. We started walking out of Holden through burnt pine trees from a forest fire in 2015, coincidentally named “The Wolverine Fire.” It helped highlight the different ecosystems bookending this traverse. Our appreciation for nature was overfilling as is so often the case from a multi-day immersion.
Happy team on Napeequa
The trip was fulfilling in many ways. This redemption tour confirmed to me it is one of the best week-long traverses in the Cascades for great fall line riding and day-after-day challenges. The opportunity to complete this adventure with the same three partners from fourteen years ago is a rare triumph I'm incredibly grateful for. These friends were instrumental during my early exploring on skis and have remained key partners throughout my professional progression. For them to step up to the physical, technical, and pyschological tests of such a trip (when not their current livelihood) is remarkable. And then there were the wolverine sightings. Seeing them grew my respect for their mountain mystique and strengthened my intent to learn more about supporting their survival.