White Chuck Mountain

White Chuck Mountain has a crux that presents itself sooner than expected. I arrived in Darrington and stopped by Moe’s for a cup of some of my favorite coffee. It’s a great spot to stop and plan out a climb. Sunset was inbound, but the approach on White Chuck Mountain is quite short, maybe 4 miles total out and back. And there’s only about 2200 ft of elevation gain. This means it is steep though. Regardless of the size of the mountain or the approach, every mountain is to be taken seriously. I was ready to go, and set to meet Haley and her dog at the trailhead.

July 24 to 25, 2026

Beta

• Peak: White Chuck Mountain (~6,989 ft), near Darrington, WA
• Route: Northwest Route. A Class 3 scramble to the summit via a steep climber’s trail and the summit ridge.
• Class: Class 3. Exposed, unprotected slab ledges and an airy downclimb into a notch below the summit.
• Distance: 6.5 miles on GPS. The summit route itself is only ~4 miles; the rest was wandering Raven Lake for photos.
• Elevation gain: ~3,450 ft cumulative (roughly 2,200 ft net to the summit). Short means steep.
• Time: Overnight. We camped at Raven Lake and summited in the morning.
• Trailhead / road: ~12 miles of old forest road, a solid 45 minutes. The worst road surface I’ve seen in WA. High-clearance strongly recommended, and expect to rattle your rig loose.
• Camp: Raven Lake. Beautiful sunset, brutally buggy.
• Navigation: A couple Class 3 moves to a steep climber’s trail through alpine meadows, an unprotected smooth slab-ledge traverse (a no-fall zone), then the ridge and an airy Class 3 downclimb into a notch. The summit is tiny.
• Conditions (as of 7/25/2026): Dry rock (an earlier July attempt had running water on the slabs). Mosquitoes and horseflies were relentless. Regional wildfire smoke building. Rockfall hazard, we had a near miss.
• Bugs: Relentless and everywhere, not just the lake. Mosquitoes and horseflies swarmed the whole route and only petered out near the summit, and even then a few hung around. Bring a head net.
• Water: Raven Lake.
• Passes: None required at the trailhead. It’s a remote pullout on the forest road, not a developed lot.
• GPX: Cleaned GPS track available to download on this page.

The crux

And thus, the crux arrived: the drive to the trailhead. The old forest road is in the worst shape I have seen in WA. Maybe the only one that’s comparable is the road out to Glacier Peak in 2023. The potholes on this one are the size of the road in some spots. It is only 12 miles up the road to the trailhead, but takes a solid 45 minutes. My entire Victory 4x4 heavy-duty bed rack was rattled looser than ever on this road. I lost bolts and nuts, and had to retighten the entire rig when I made it back down later. It didn’t help that it was already missing nuts and bolts when they shipped the parts. The squeaky noises it was making were comically loud. Eventually, I made it.

Up to Raven Lake

I stepped out of the car to say hello and start throwing my pack together. As soon as I did, I was greeted by bugs. It seemed the flies had grown into horseflies since the last time I was here. What was I getting myself into?

We made our way from the trailhead up to the ridge. It was easy going. We opted to wait and bag the summit in the morning.

Alpine meadows in the golden hour.

We were hopeful for ideal morning inversion/sunrise conditions for epic photos. The objective for the night was a sunset over Raven Lake. This trip on White Chuck was important to me, as I had previously tried to make my way up on July 4th weekend. I made a solo attempt up to the scramble section, but the peak was quite socked in. There was running water down the rock and slab sections. I felt this was the mountain telling me that it wasn’t the right time to climb, and turned back.

Fast forwarding to the present, I was ready to make it happen. This would be my 19th Smoot summit if successful. Nearing one-fifth of the peaks on that list is starting to feel like I’m making a dent. I have questioned if I am more committed to the WA Smoot 100 or the WA Bulger 100 list. Or if I’m really committed to either. Honestly, I don’t care all that much. It’s a fun list to reference back to, but is ultimately sort of meaningless. As I gain more summits, maybe eventually it will make sense to knock them all out. But there’s a big world out there, it would be foolish to stay so hyperfocused on Washington.

Home for the night at Raven Lake, Mount Pugh standing over camp.

The summit, seen from camp at Raven Lake.

Sunset, and a night without a bivy

The sunset that evening did not disappoint. The moon rose behind Mount Pugh and Sloan Peak in the distance. The colors were magic.

The sun setting behind the clouds.

Raven Lake catching the last of the color.

The summit standing over Raven Lake at sunset.

Moonrise over Mount Pugh.

Pugh, Sloan, and Cadet Peak lined up at sunset.

Haley taking it in, the moon reflecting off Raven Lake.

Blazing layers as the sun dropped.

Strolling the lake at golden hour. Photo by @haleygoeshiking.

At the same time, I ran over to a cliff and could catch a glimpse of Glacier Peak. There was a massive fire going on just beyond it to the East, giving the illusion the volcano was erupting. It was an awesome sight to behold.

A fire beyond Glacier Peak, giving the illusion the volcano was erupting.

It was beginning to feel like smoke was most definitely going to be an antagonist to the rest of the Washington summer. At least, in the mountains anyway. I had made the decision in haste at my truck to leave my bivy behind. I knew we were going to be camping wherever, and I figured why bother. The forecast looked clean, and I didn’t think it was necessary.

Boy, was I wrong. As we scattered and scampered around Raven Lake for different pictures and viewpoints, we were constantly mobbed by bugs. Big swarms too. They would slowly move into the space and suddenly tons of mosquitos were landing on every part of you. They felt inescapable. To have been a goat, observing two people running around shooing away bugs, would be hilarious. As the sun really began to set, and the colors faded, it was time to make camp. And now the decision to leave my bivy behind haunted me. Honestly, it was almost worth the extra miles back to the car to get my bivy. But, nah. Too much work and I had to get up hella early to make sunrise. Haley had brought a 1p tent, which was just enough for her and the pup. She kindly offered me shelter while I ate my gas station chicken wrap. After, I devised a plan. I jammed a stick into the ground and used it as a makeshift tent pole. I used her rain fly to drape over my face. The sleeping bag should keep most of me safe, and then this would be just enough to keep my face from turning into Will Smith in Hitch. Hopefully. I placed some rocks around the stick for support through the windy night, and went to sleep.

The scramble

The plan actually kind of worked, although eventually the rain fly sort of just fell on my face and I was breathing right into it. Not the best, but not the worst! I only had a few bites on my face. Success. We packed up and off we went to the scramble again. I wondered if the climb would feel much more approachable now with another person and dry rock. It definitely did! We started up and after a couple class 3 moves, we were on an obvious (but very steep!) climber’s trail through the alpine meadows.

Grassy ledges and alpine meadows on the way up.

I don’t know why, but lately this kind of terrain has creeped me out more than glaciers and alpine rock climbing. The idea of some loose rock unexpectedly slipping out from under my feet on steep terrain is just kind of a spooky one. I’d much rather deal with technical hazards than those simple ones. But, to be honest, I just may be nearing my point in the summer where I’ve sent enough and need to enjoy some good old-fashioned lake days and easy backpacking fun.

Regardless, here we were! So we came across the sketchiest section, which is just some unprotected, smooth, slabby ledges. You walk straight across. It’s quite simple. I opted to hug the rock wall to the left for some hand holds, and we both made our way across. The dog had zero issues of course. As we neared the next section, we heard a few loud WHOMPS down the mountain. Suddenly, before we even had time to calculate, a boulder came flying down in front of Haley and Izzy. The timing worked out for us, as no one was harmed. But we saw no goats or other disturbances that might have caused this rockfall. Another example of the unpredictability of the mountains, and to always keep your head on a swivel.

We got up on the ridge and made our way across, continuing to climb. I wasn’t looking forward to descending on this loose, rocky choss pile. The last move is an airy class 3 downclimb into a notch, and then you basically just hike back up the same distance to the summit. It’s a very small summit. You might be able to squeeze one person at the summit on a bivy spot, but it wouldn’t be comfortable. Or fun. I was glad we opted to stay at Raven Lake.

The White Chuck Glacier from up on the mountain.

The loose, rocky choss pile up near the summit.

The summit

Unfortunately, we didn’t get the inversion we were hoping for. There was a very small one in the valley, and some clouds swirling around the summit all morning. This opened up some shots for some really cool lighting of the White Chuck Glacier, nearby peaks, and the Sauk River valley. It was challenging to nail the timing as the clouds were moving so quickly. I got whatever shots I could in the conditions, and after 20 to 30 minutes we had a snack and started descending.

Socked in from the summit, for the most part.

The summit canister up top.

Raven Lake far below, from the summit.

White Chick, the peak to the southeast.

The descent

The descent was easy until that sketchy little slab ledges section. Hated it. It’s quite smooth and my legs were feeling sketched out. It is certainly a no-fall zone, but there realistically wasn’t a high chance of falling. Eventually I powered through and we got down into the choss gully, and back on the trail. The bugs gleefully celebrated our return with a feast.

The best part about this route though, is that making it back to this point meant we only had an easy 1 mile or so exit out! Maybe a little further since the scramble is so steep. But easy peasy. And it was still early morning, so the views around were rad and we got some nice morning lighting. We saw a few people on their way to bag the summit. Roughly 4 to 5 total.

Ridge views in the morning light.

My plan was to head back to Moe’s for some morning coffee and working on trip reports. I enjoy my quiet time there. As we headed down in our cars separately, I was surprised to see several more cars loaded with people heading up. One even stopped to ask me “where’s the party at on White Chuck?!” I think the mountain is getting a bit more popular. Mountaineering as a whole has been gaining more and more momentum in the recent years. I would expect basically anywhere that is a known route at this point to have some traffic, even on a weekday, and certainly on a weekend.

Onward

Overall, it was a chill, straightforward mountain. We only had one surprise near miss, and otherwise a beautiful mountain sunset to enjoy for another incredible summer night in WA. Onward.

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