Rusty Peak Northeast Ridge Niut Range

It was summer 2002. I was driving down the highway east of Kamloops coming from the Canadian Rockies. In the passenger seat was Dennis Harmon. We'd just waited 2 days in Revelstoke for the rain to subside in order to make an attempt on Mount Sir Donald, but it never stopped. He'd just spent most of the last week and a half guzzling beer, smoking cigarettes and complaining about a myriad of topics which I could care less about. During this time I had dragged him up a climb on Ha-Ling Peak and even splurged a few bucks for him to get around to hiking areas or whatever else while I climbed on Mount Victoria with the late Bob Enagonio and Fred Beckey. He was too good to climb Mount Victoria and would rather drink vodka, run his mouth or something along those lines. Fred and I had planned to dump him off our bandwagon in order to hitchike on the Trans Canada Highway before heading out to Bluff Lake, B.C and then into the Niut Range to climb on Rusty Peak. Dennis wasn't completely aware of the plan. I told him he was going to either fly in the chopper to climb in the Coast Range with us or sit around at the airfield waiting. Hey not a bad deal since I was offering to pay for his flight time.

After passing through Kamloops Dennis piped up "Drop me off here on the side of the highway". Yahoo!!! I didn't even have to tell him to get lost myself. The guy got out and I happily dumped his bags on the dirty highway and pulled away with a smile. A few minutes later I was making my way towards Cache Creek blasting music from the car. Fred and I met up in Cache Creek and then bought some groceries in Williams Lake. Fred always buys too much food and lots of junk items. He likes to buy stuff like horsecock (a term he uses for the cornucopia of spiced sausages), instant pudding, powdered milk, candy bars, zero calorie Ramen, and well you get the picture... I let him get what he wanted and piled in the necessary items for myself. A few hours later we arrived at Tatla Lake and then finally made our way to Bluff Lake. Mike King of White Saddle Air was going to be our pilot so we spoke with him and he didn't seem too busy with business. Our unannounced flight wouldn't be too much of a problem. It turns out his son and a few fellows were also going to camp out somewhere near Razorback Mountain.

Fred and I hopped in the chopper, Mike gave me a funny look. I wonder what he thinks about 80 year old Fred and 30 year old me climbing together.... About 10 minutes later we touched down on the Rusty Glacier just below the north face of Rusty Peak. We watched the sun go down as we set up camp. Fred had the idea that we would forge a new route under these large bulbous ice seracs. As soon as I saw that I made plan B. I had never seen the mountain before and this was just an unplanned extension of our trip. Icing on the cake. We'd climb the northeast ridge which he was not very interested in to be honest. I valued my life and moving fast under large ice formations seemed logical to me. These seracs had obviously peeled away in home sized chunks from the looks of debris on the glacier. Therefore with Fred I could not commit to his idea.

We rose in the morning and I packed a bunch of extra clothing. Then I made breakfeast. After that the route was only minutes away. The firm snow on the glacier felt good. Even Fred commented in a positive way after not getting his way on choice of routes. We zig zagged up around some crevasses and shot some photos and then gained the ridge. From the ridge we had a nice view of Ottarasko Mountain a peak where Fred had climbed the first ascent of it's north face with Jim Nelson a while back. The relief down into the local valleys was fairly significant and it was a pleasure to look across the clear horizon south towards countless peaks which were unknown to me. Later I would discover the largest one to the south was Mount Queen Bess.

Fred and I did some roped scrambling after eating lunch. He commented that the rock was horrible which was true. However it was manageable and not technical. A little care and we were making our way up. A few hours later we scrambled up to the east summit rocks where I took a photo of Fred. It was unclear if anyone had summitted on the east peak before as there was no cairn or other obvious sign of man's presence. I had my first glimpse of Mount Waddington and immediately to the south at Plummer and Pagoda Peaks which were showing off their northern precipices. From the east summit it looked like the west summit was slightly higher and there was a prominent southern peak as well. I looked down into Five Finger Creek to meadows and pristine streams below. Fred said he was opposed to scrambling back down the way which we ascended. I didn't agree but let him take his choice this time. We would descend south and traverse around the western portions of the mountain and finally back to our camp.

We began the laborious descent down several gullies and tried not to knock rocks onto each other. Some of it was like being in a sea of marbles which liked to move in unison as your foot touched down. We arrived at a small glacier remnant after a short glissade and descended on a lateral moraine from the glacier which thrusted down from Plummer Peak. Just as the sun dropped down we found the first scrub pines. We were fairly close to Five Finger Creek at this point. Fred followed behind most of this time about 200 yards away and when he showed up made the decision to bivouac among the scrub pines. I was prepared with a down jacket and a few other warm goodies. There we lied back to back until about 3 am when the raindrops began dropping onto our faces. We continued to lay there in misery hoping it would just go away for some time. The rain only intensified though, and there were no large trees to duck under for shelter.

At around 6 am Fred and I were already slowly making our way up the creek drainage towards the glacier terminus. Fred insisted that I call Mike King on the radio to pick us up on the spot. I already knew that was a pipe dream. The mountains were socked in with clouds and rain, visibility was poor for flight. I called anyway so that Fred would get off my back. Mike wasn't coming and I told Fred that news and we argued a bit. Mostly he was just complaining. I could tell this specific part of the Coast Range is visited by bears, deer, and other creatures more often than man. On each side of the creek bed the grass was perfectly laid out by nature. Undisturbed by man. Through the clouds and misty rain it looked like there was a glacier on the west side of Rusty as well. Other than the rain, the hike was refreshing. It felt good to get out there all alone in the wilderness. I could hear sounds of the Pagoda glacier scratching at the bedrock and the sound of the creek was crisp. A few hours later, still raining we climbed up the terminal moraine onto the glacier. The glacier had sort of a split tongue effect at the end where both sides had small ponds at the fringe of the terminal moraine. Fred insisted that I call King again and I repeated this process just to entertain him. Knowing full well it wasn't going to happen. We dawned crampons and walked in between crevasses into the misty clouds. At around 3pm Fred arrived at the tent. I made us some grub and we snoozed until morning.

Bright and early the next morning, just after the crack of dawn Mike King was landing next to our camp. He helped me toss in all of our excess baggage while Fred was trying to figure out if he was still bivying in the bushes with snafflehounds. Then we lifted off and swerved around an enormous peak directly north. I believe this peak has been referred to as Kontlan, The Trident, Triplex and even Triplets by various reports. This feature probably remains unnamed on the map systems like a multitude of other places in the Coast Mountains. 20 minutes later we were sitting on the airfield paying off Mike and I was thinking about getting ready to head home. I was wondering if I was going to catch up with Dennis on my way down towards Seattle. I'd make sure to give him the bird if we crossed paths again. It turns out he made it uneventfully back across the border and all the way back to Wenatchee. Another interesting trip with Beckey complete.