The East Face of Liberty Bell

Publication Year: 1967.

The East Face of Liberty Bell

Alex Bertulis

ALTHOUGH Washington State is well known for its picturesque mountains which lie in full view of its cities and highways, until recently only a handful of mountain climbers and fishermen ever ventured into the rugged interior of the North Cascade Range. Now that the eastern arm of the new trans-Cascade highway has reached Washington Pass, climbers and picnickers can drive to the foot of one of the most imposing mountains in the range: the Liberty Bell massif, consisting of Liberty Bell Mountain (7500 feet), Concord Tower (7300 feet), Lexington Tower (7300 feet), and the Early Winter Spires (c. 7600 feet). The east face of Liberty Bell is a nearly vertical wall of smooth granite which rises over a thousand feet above the perennial snowfields at its base.

The Independence Route. In 1965 Steve Marts, Don McPherson, and Fred Stanley pioneered the classic Liberty Crack Route” up the left side of the east face (A.A.J., 1966, 15:1, p. 132-3). Inspired by their performance, Hans Baer, Frank Tarver and Tom Quinn set out to climb the face via the profusely overhanging northeast corner. At the end of four strenuous leads Hans reached a ceiling from which he saw no cracks continuing. They abandoned the climb. Early in the summer of 1966 Frank, Steve, Don and I returned to give the northeast corner another try.

After waiting for two blizzard-ridden days down in the valley, Frank and Steve had to return to Seattle. Don and I were encouraged by improving conditions on the third day and found the fourth morning clear. The climb started with a pleasant class-5 lead, but I soon found myself traversing under a large ceiling with huge icicles hanging from its lip. The sun began warming the rock and for most of the morning we were peppered by pieces of ice released from the ceilings above. At the end of the traverse a pendulum was necessary and while I studied the situation the flake supporting the pin I was using broke off. Though the second piton was not worth much either, the third brought me to a comfortable halt. After regaining the twenty feet I had lost I executed the awkward pendulum and settled myself in a sling belay. Don avoided the pendulum by traversing directly across, using friction, small holds, and long reaches ( F9 ). He finished the lead on a small ledge, the last one we were to see for the next two days and nights! On the ledge we found a gallon of still palatable lemonade; fortunately we decided to take it with us for we still somewhat underestimated the climb. After stemming up a narrow chimney we reached the “Baer Ceiling.” As Hans before us, we could see no cracks ahead but only an endless succession of ceilings and overhangs. Discouraged by the slow progress and thoughts of a bleak future, we strung out our hammocks for the night.

With the eastern sun flooding the face we scrutinized the surrounding wall. Finally, Don asked for a knife-blade piton which he managed to insert into an incipient crack; he clipped in an aid sling and to our relief the pin held his weight. Slowly and delicately he continued. While cleaning the pitch, I wondered what kept the pins in. The next lead took me over the "Square Ceiling” and a small overhang before I began traversing under the three "Cascade Ceilings.” From under the middle ceiling, as I reached high for the next pin, and was just about to clip in, I found myself airborne. An upside down pin had simply pulled out. After gaining the third ceiling I was forced to place two bolts for a traverse to a flake nearby. Even though they were only 3/l6-inch studs, drilling them into the unusually hard granite of Liberty Bell was exasperating and time consuming. With friction on my rope I proceeded to nail downward along the flake and then across a ceiling with a small pine tree growing out from under it in a 180° arc. The tree made a convenient anchor for my belay seat. Don reached a small ceiling above before darkness overtook us. The air was mild and our hammock bivouac was not uncomfortable. We reflected on our route and happily concluded that this would be the most sustained climb either one of us had been on. The third morning, while Don was laboring with one of the more delicate pitches, I remained seated in my sling and scanned the vast Cascades around us. As we progressed upward, it seemed as though the mountains were also rising higher into the sky, their steep walls and ridges coming into true perspective. I tried to identify familiar peaks. It was like trying to distinguish waves in a restless sea of rock and snow. Through the heavily timbered valley, far below us, snaked the thin yellow line of the new road. The heavy construction equipment looked like ants, while the workmen were too small to see. I thought of the many people that would soon enjoy this area. To the east of the pass a parking lot was being graded. When I visualized gas stations and tourist stands that are bound to follow, my disposition changed. Could this become another Camp Curry (Yosemite)?

Don shouted down to me. This lead was even worse than his previous A-4 lead. He had just placed a succession of nestled, tied-off pitons and prudently decided to place a ¼-inch bolt as anchor. I continued over the “Well Hung Roof” and after a few more ceilings I gained a ledge which was as welcome as an unexpected island at sea. Late that afternoon we reached a terraced area two-thirds up the face. Having spent the last three days almost continuously in suspension it felt good to stand with both feet flat on the ground again. For the first time we slept huddled close together and were able to indulge in subjective conversation. Somehow this mountain was giving most of the delicate leads to Don and the overhangs to me. Don certainly got the worse, for climbing on insecure pins is a game of nerves. We did not know it yet but by far the most difficult climbing was behind us; the “Hercan Roofs” above looked deceptively hard. Once again the sun awakened us and we left the terraces for the vertical wall. Now an ever increasing proportion of free climbing allowed us to cover distances with relative speed. One long bong-bong crack left us under a maze of proponderous roofs. To our amazement the class-5 climbing continued. The rock was quite broken up and since it was also stable, it allowed for some classic rock acrobatics. Even the overhangs now went free! Early that afternoon we reached the summit slope and four easy leads put us on top, and none too soon, for the weather had deteriorated and heavy clouds began to empty their contents as we prepared to rappel off the mountain’s south face.

The Liberty Crack Variation. Two weeks after the Independence Route ascent, Mark Fielding, Jim Madsen, Hans Baer and I returned to Washington Pass loaded with iron and provisions. Our objective was to repeat (in part) the Liberty Crack Route and try for a variation that would lead us more directly to the summit, the crucial obstacle being a large dihedrallike roof whose deep shadow was distinct even from across the valley. The first two-thirds of the route followed the Liberty Crack, of which the first three rope-lengths were the most difficult, since they required strenuous artificial aid technique. At the beginning of the third lead I took two spills because of “sky hooks” slipping off. Tired of hanging under the Lithuanian Lip (the roof below), Jim became impatient, accused me of getting "psyched out”, and finished the A-4 lead himself, though in his enthusiasm he did manage to break his (sledge) hammer. To make matters worse, after our first night in hammocks, Hans discovered that his hammer had also mysteriously vanished.

With the ominous overhang not far above us, serious doubts arose in our minds as to the wisdom of continuing onto difficult and unexplored territory with only two hammers. Despite the inviting effect of the “regular” ramp, we reluctantly decided to continue with our original intentions. From close up, the roof seemed more like a deep cave without a floor, and nobody was very optimistic when I began to approach the obstacle. In fact, still early in the afternoon we were already looking around for prospective bivouac sites. The cave was moist and dark except for one small ray of light that did not seem to belong there. As I stemmed closer toward the upper limits, I sighted its source: a small porthole looking straight out through the east face! The solution was obvious. After a few attempts I managed to throw a cluster of hardware, tied to a climbing rope, through the hole which allowed us to prusik up over the outside of the roof. Enthusiastically we continued for another lead before settling for the night on a comfortable ledge not far from the summit.

Hardly had day begun to dawn when Mark awakened us eager for the first lead; apparently he did not sleep as warm as the rest of us. At seven a.m. we sat on the summit, ate as much as we could and threw away the water we could not drink. Our new variation turned out to be surprisingly easy, but as we were climbing the last few hundred feet to the summit, we did notice another still more direct variation to the variation.

Summary of Statistics.

Area: Northern Cascades, Washington.

ASCENT: Liberty Bell Mountain, 7500 feet, Independence Route, May, 1966 (Alex Bertulis, Don McPherson)—new route, 20 leads, F8, A4, 180 pitons, 5 bolts; Liberty Crack Variant, June, 1966 (Hans Baer, Alex Bertulis, Mark Fielding, Jim Madsen), 15 leads, F8, A4, 135 pitons, 8 bolts (no new ones placed).