Mount Goode 9,227

August 04-06, 2025

~39.8 miles, ~11,100 Gain

TH: Bridge Creek Trailhead (WA 20, east of Rainy Pass)

Max difficulty: Class 5.5

Mount Goode, named after U.S. Geological Survey topographer Richard U. Goode, is the crown jewel of North Cascades National Park. At 9,227 feet, it’s not only the park’s highest point but also one of Washington’s tallest non-volcanic peaks. Hidden deep in the jagged wilderness, Goode can’t be seen from any road, earning its reputation as a true backcountry prize. The first ascent came in 1936, while Fred Beckey himself climbed the Northeast Buttress (our chosen line) in 1966.

With a close friend’s wedding bringing us to town, Marsters and I seized the chance to steal a few days for Goode. Midweek luck was on our side: the Marblemount ranger station granted us two nights at North Fork Camp, tucked just off the Pacific Crest Trail. This strategy spared us the pain of a full “carryover” with overnight gear but promised a long, committing summit day.

After a small delay (the ranger’s lunch hour), we hit the PCT around 3:00 p.m. from Bridge Creek Trailhead, cruising the 9.9 miles to camp in under four hours. The next morning, alarms rang at an “alpine start” by Pacific Northwest standards, 5:30 a.m., and we retraced our steps north (0.3 mile) to the North Fork junction. Fortune favored us again; a fresh trail crew had cleared deadfall, making for smooth passage almost to our turnoff. A mellow Grizzly Creek crossing (problematic early season) and a chilly ford of Bridge Creek (~3,280 feet) set us on our way. From there, we scrambled a vegetated rubble slope, spotting a curious black bear, before tackling a 200-foot class 3-4 slab just right to a prominent roaring waterfall.

Above the falls, an alder “tunnel” (without it, thrashing would’ve been brutal) led us onto grassy slopes, talus, and easy slabs below the glacier. We roped up, strapped on traction, gained the glacier on the left side, and carefully threaded our way across the Goode Glacier. Reaching the Northeast Buttress was no gimme: a spanning bergschrund guarded the way. Luckily, a semi-dubious but functional snow bridge allowed safe passage.

At 10:30 a.m., we arrived at the base of the buttress, traversing on a reasonable ledge (well above the chossy red ledges in Becky's description). Ryan launched into the first simul block, leading us up fractured white rock (5.4) to the ridge crest, where the climbing eased into long stretches of class 3-4 scrambling, mainly on the left side of the ridge for 1,800 feet. The exposure, combined with sweeping alpine views, made this section unforgettable.

As the ridge steepened, I took the sharp end for the second 500-foot simul block after a short roped pitch to gain the ridge–the short pitch was due to recent rockfall/slide, exposing a fair bit of loose rock on the narrow ledges. Once back on the ridge proper, I stayed near or right of the ridge crest (class 5.5) until the completion of my block. Ryan led the final block, tackling airy steps and staying true to the left buttress (the beta references an easier right buttress) until we popped out, unroped, onto Goode’s narrow summit at 1:30 p.m. The panorama of jagged peaks in every direction, with no sign of roads or civilization, was astonishing.

The descent, as always, demanded respect. We down-climbed and rappelled the Northeast Buttress (three rappels total), then hunted for the faint grassy ledge that leads southeast to Black Tooth Notch. A surprisingly spicy, exposed 8-foot up-climb along the way gave me pause; it could well be the crux of the so-called “easy” southwest couloir. From the notch, we mixed down-climbing (bypassing the first rappel) with two more rappels, including a nearly 100-footer. In hindsight, staying skier’s left would have offered shorter, cleaner rappels.

Below the rappels, a long and shifting talus gully funneled us down until we nearly blundered onto water-polished slabs. A faint ledge to the left offered escape, leading to a final down-climb that marked the end of the technical terrain. From there, it was classic Cascades travel: endless talus hopping, then a steep, grassy plunge through a charred burn zone before finally linking into the Park Creek Pass Trail. Ten miles still separated us from camp.

The descent stretched on, downhill miles into the valley, a traverse past the ghostly remains of the old Stehekin Road, then the weary grind back east to the PCT. The sting came at the end: a climb back uphill just as our legs were begging for mercy. We stumbled into camp at 9:00 p.m. Gentle rain began to fall late evening. The next morning, damp gear stuffed into packs, we trudged the final 10 miles back to the trailhead. Goode had given us a full-value experience with glacier crossings, wild ridge climbing, and complex descents, providing an unforgettable trip to the North Cascades. I can't wait to go back for more adventures on Dome and Forbidden.