Silverstar Sunset

With our climbs being on the west side of the Vasiliki-Wine Spire ridge, we all sleep in until the sun finally hit us around 9:00am. At that point we would not have been able to sleep any longer any how, since the heat of the sun made lying in our sleeping bags unbearable. I fired up my stove to boil some water for oatmeal and wiped the crusties from my eyes while the others stirred around for there own breakfast. Sleeping in the open under the stars has always been a favorite way of mine to spend a night and having slept well this particular evening, I was refreshed and ready to tackle our objective.

The west ridge of Paisano Pinnacle, though not a particularly difficult climb, provides for some great views of the Washington Pass area. While looking up towards the route from camp, it is seen as a distinct and abrupt ridge that crests at summit of Paisano, just above Burgundy Col to the southwest. When looking from the north it is hard to make out the ridge line at all, since the rock blends with the west Buttress of Burgundy Spire just beyond to the south. Considering that the approach trail parallels the ridge to the north, this make finding the start of the route a bit tricky.

Paisano Start

As we walked back up the trail that morning, we came to the stream we had gotten water from the day before. Once again, we drank up and filled up with water for the day and then made a direct traverse to where we believed the route began. This traverse proved to be the crux of the route, as there is no path across the loosely filled scree gully. We clawed, slid, and surfed our way across to the base of where we believed the route started; below an obvious treed bench on the ridge. Finding a nice series of ledges below our start, we threw off our packs and started to gear up.

We roe-sham-boed for the first pitch and Eric got the short straw. I grabbed the rack and runners and tied into the double-ropes that we had brought for the weekend. As I looked above for the first moves, it appeared that the moss filled groove that I was about to head up into had not been climbed before. Making my way up and I cleaned a few cracks of tuft to place gear into and stemmed my way across a sandy ledge. Soon enough though, I pulled myself onto the little ledge we spied from our watering hole on the other side of the approach gully. Above me, the ridge made a sharp point with the southern flanks dropping hundreds of feet to another gully that separated Paisano from Burgundy.

Eric on Lead

From this spacious ledge, I belayed Eric up to me and we swapped gear so he could lead the next rope length. He climbed around some blocks and then up a low angled crack that could be seen from below, so I took a few pictures. Before I knew it, he setup a belay at the top of the crack and I put the camera away and shouldered my pack and followed the rope up to his perch. The next pitch wound around to the left and then up a crumbly set of cracks and flakes that ended in another spacious ledge below a twin set of cracks. The views to the west were enormous, with many of the peaks of the North Cascades still showing their wintry blankets of snow.

Hanging Out

It was Eric's lead and starting up the twin cracks, he grunted and pulled through to the top in good style. From there, he disappeared over the bulge above and I sat in solitude paying out rope, listening to the sounds of the highway thousands of feet below. Once I heard the call that he was Off Belay, I quickly grabbed my camera and set the timer for a self-portrait as he pulled up the remaining rope. Before the rope came tight, I had my camera put away and my pack on my back again, ready to Follow his lead.

The twin cracks above the belay led to a narrow ridge with a Hand Traverse across a few hundred feet of Exposure and then to the left side of the ridge-line. This short traverse put us about 80 feet below the ridge, at a small ledge with a few shrubby trees crowding it. I stepped over Eric and grabbed the gear from him while still on belay; not only to save time, but so as to not make the crowded ledge even more so. Once I had quickly sorted through the rack and gotten all the runners, I was off to try and find a way back up to the ridge.

I led up and right, around a small overhang and then across flakes directly above the belay stance that Eric found himself crammed into. From here, I continued the upwards traverse to the right on good features, back to the ridge line. By the time I reached the ridge, the rope felt as though it was trying to pull me backwards due to the severe amount of drag on the winding path I took. Grabbing a few loops of rope in my hand to ease the pull, I scrambled up to a spacious ledge and looped my Daisy Chain around a tree for a belay. It was no more than about five minutes after getting Eric on belay that he popped his head around the corner just down hill from my new ledge.

Once again, we made haste switching around gear so that he could take the lead and a few moments later he was off. This sixth pitch was one of the best, leading up from the ledge I was lounging on to a series of blocky steps capped by an short, overhanging off-width crack. Fortunately for us, we had brought the #4 camalot, which made the moves, though only 5.8, a lot less nerve racking. Following this stellar pitch made me wish I had lost the roe-sham-boe Match that had started our climbing for the day.

Topping Out

At Eric's belay, I reracked and quickly sped up the last remaining bit of the ridge to the top of the pinnacle. I paused for a minute or so on the last bit of unprotected slab climbing that finishes the route, contemplating how well I had placed the #1 TCU that was now about fifteen feet below these final moves. Finally on top, I dragged the rope to a large block and slinged it with a few opposing slings and setup a belay. Just as Eric came over the top, I snapped a photo of him candidly enjoying the views to the west.

Spending only a minute on the summit, we discussed adding on the top four pitches of the North Face of Burgundy as dessert. Looking at the time though, we reconsidered and made the two quick rappels down to Burgundy Col. Once back on the ground, we changed into our boots again and I pounded down the remainder of lunch that I had been munching on. Wasting little time, we packed up and started the march back down to camp.

Back in camp, we found both Mike's had again failed on their objective, though Dr. Mike had managed to make it up one more pitch than the last time he had tried that particular line. We sat around for a bit packing and eating while the bugs in camp began to become more and more fierce. In no time, everything was in our backpacks and we were back on the trail for the trudge back to the cars.

Unbelievably, this downhill walk took us nearly as long as the uphill Hike due to the steepness of the path. Other than the pain of walking downhill for so long, the trek was otherwise rather uneventful. It was all worthwhile though, because waiting in the cooler in the back of the car was a few beers that were calling our names.