Monte Cristo Peak, together with Columbia Peak and Kyes Peak, form the dramatic Columbia Glacier deep in the Henry M. Jackson Wilderness. The peak is named after the historic mining town of Monte Cristo.1 Although it is Italian for “Mountain of Christ,” the town’s name was likely inspired by2 the popular novel “The Count of Monte Cristo” by Alexandre Dumas.
See more trip photos here.
Monte Cristo Peak at a Glance
Access: Monte Cristo Trailhead @ Barlow Pass
Round Trip: 16 miles
Elevation Range: 2302′-7143′
Essential Gear: helmet, ice tools, crampons, rock & rope (60m)
Route Info: Max Leitner, SummitPost.org
GPS Track: available
Dog-Friendly: no
Playlist: Afrobeats, Beats, Hopeful
A Return to the Historic Monte Cristo
I returned to the Monte Cristo area nearly one year after visiting Columbia Peak and Twin Lakes. However, Connor couldn’t join me this time since it involved rock climbing. To prepare for a long day ahead, I arrived at Barlow Bass early. Judging by the sheer number of vehicles along the highway on a Saturday morning, it was a busy weekend.
Soon, I left at 6 AM on my bike, which had been sitting in the garage for the past year. It felt good to be moving in the cool morning air as I passed two other hikers along the way. I was also happy to find that the trail was clear before the Sauk River crossing. Rather than taking the log, I opted for the dry bed covered in pebbles.
Biking to the Historic Ghost Town
As I tried taking the log crossing later, I discovered there was a big puddle under the west end. The road on the east side was also free of debris. The rocky section at mile 1.75 spanned a quarter of a mile and was easier to walk instead. The washout at mile 3.5 didn’t look familiar; I guess biking instead of walking made the erosion much more noticeable.
As I rolled toward the ghost town, two folks on bikes also on a climb caught up with me. After securing the bike at the town center, I continued to the Glacier Basin trail. The trail crossed over Seventysix Gulch before going up a couple of switchbacks. Since I had not set foot in this area in nearly a decade, I did not remember much.
A Walk Through Mining History
As I walked through the old town site, I instantly recognized historic signs marking the locations of former mining residences. The path briefly turned into an old road by the trailhead sign, then returned to a trail. Just past the waterfall viewpoint was a slide, which had narrowed a short stretch of the path.
About a mile in, the trail suddenly turned rocky below a viewpoint perched on an outcrop. Covered in tall rock steps and dense foliage, the path felt more like a dry creek bed. Thankfully, there was plenty of krummholtz and convenient ledges through the narrow passage, joined by the constant rushing sounds of Glacier Creek.
From Greenery to Monte Cristo Peak
The latter half of the narrow, rocky stretch was less steep but largely covered in vine maples. The ground was also damp and slick. This continued until about 4200 feet, where the view finally began to open up. Along the way, I noticed old steel cables and buried, rusty pipes across the trail, left over from the mining days.
The whole area was filled with ferns, goat’s beard, and Indian poke. Then, at mile six, about a mile and a half from the ghost town, I got my first glimpse of Monte Cristo Peak. But I wasn’t too excited to see the clouds hovering over the ridgeline. Just as I left the dense vegetation behind, the massive Wilmans Peaks appeared right overhead.
Through the Picturesque Glacier Basin
Soon, I walked along the edge of talus fields beside the creek. I briefly lost the trail but found it again not far ahead. There was a short section of washout before I entered the trees one last time, then left the forest for good. The path soon tapered as it wound into the clearing around the massive boulders.
Looking out across the wetland by the talus field, I only spotted one cairn on my way to the upper basin. As I stashed the approach shoes and scoped out Monte Cristo Peak, I saw campers on Ray’s Knoll, perched atop the cliffs. From there, I crossed the shallow creek over a snowfield before returning to the rocks.
Ascending Steep Snow to North Col
The straightforward west slopes consisted of rocks, slick heather, and massive Indian thistles and mountain arnica. Higher up, I hugged the south of a rock wall to a snow ramp at 6400 feet. Snow over the constriction has melted, with a stream running down a seven-foot gap. It would be my last water until after the climb.
I picked up the upper ramp to the top of a buttress with dry ground. There, I surveyed the reported 40 to 45-degree steep snow before committing. The 300-foot climb to the north col at 6760 certainly felt like an eternity. However, the extra ice tool helped take my mind off the exposure, as on Overcoat Peak from a year ago.
Climbing Rocks From the East
While on the steep incline, I noticed a fairly recent boot trail. After soaking in the views on the saddle, I aimed south toward the start of the rock climb. While the old tracks crossed high up on the snow, I was wary of possible moats underneath. So I stayed low before aiming toward the bottom of the 5.6 chimney.
Luckily, snow still clung to the edge of the steps at the bottom. Meanwhile, I stayed close to the wall to be safe and checked out the two adjacent routes. Ultimately, I picked the one on the climber’s right as it did not appear as vertical as the other one. It also seemed to have more holds and cracks to navigate with rock shoes.
Through Ledges and Platforms
From below, the entire east wall of Monte Cristo Peak was visibly dry, which was good news. My route featured two narrow ledges with a sling located high up on a bolt. I was glad to have brought rock shoes for better footwork. After I moved past the sling, I was surprised to find myself on a platform that wasn’t visible from below.
I moved left toward the other route and continued the second half of the rock climb. I passed two more bolts before reaching the upper ledge, which seemed like the place to rappel later. From there, a slick ramp covered in rock grains led upward. I hugged the wall until it was safe to exit onto the broad gully below the summit, filled with scree and heather.
Stunning Views Plus Leisurely Exit
The summit itself was flat and roomy, with stunning views of the wilderness. I even saw Big Four Mountain among the lineup, which I had just visited the week before. Kyes Peak, Columbia Peak, and the Wilmans Peaks sat front and center, surrounded by the three beautiful basins: Columbia, Glacier, and Pride.
After about 45 minutes on top, I retraced my steps and made one rappel from the bottom of the slick ramp, leaving enough rope to spare. Then, with both ice ax and tool in hand, I traversed facing in back toward the saddle. From the west, I faced inward one more time, descending the steep slope to the broken ramp before leaving it by the rock wall.
The flowers on the grassy slopes were especially vibrant in the afternoon sun. As I caught my last glimpse of Monte Cristo Peak in the lower basin, the clouds had reclaimed it. Of course, the soreness in my rear end was only noticeable after hopping back on the bike. The once-a-year ride with a stiff seat was hard on the arse.
- Monte Cristo Peak overview on Wikipedia. ↩︎
- Monte Cristo Peak overview on SummitPost.org. ↩︎