Spire, Snow + Sky - Landscapes of Washington Pass

If there’s one rule of thumb in the North Cascades, it’s this: It’ll be amazing, but you’re going to have to pay the price for access. Whether it’s the distance, the legendary bushwhacking, or the rugged, knee-destroying ‘trails’, one way or another, you’re gonna get your ass kicked before you hit the high alpine. To all of this, there is one exception. A magical place where the access borders on easy, but the terrain and landscapes will stand toe to toe with any alpine playground in America.

If one follows the Skagit Valley from the West, or the Methow Valley from the east, the aesthetic and elevational climax will center around Highway 20’s Washington Pass. The shocking verticality and surgical cleanliness of the Liberty Group, Kangaroo Ridge and the Wine Spires is unlike anything else in the Cascades. Here is a place where a casual hike or easy ski tour will put you smack dab in the middle of massive spires of golden granite, dizzying couloirs, even the odd glacier.

Here, also, is the interface where the climate transitions from the wet maritime weather of western Washington to the dry continental climate of the Columbia Basin, creating one of North America's sharpest ecological gradients, and resulting in an ever-changing sky as the battle of the barometric pressures plays out endlessly above. While the large mountains further west catch much of the brunt of incoming weather, producing a rain-shadow above Washington Pass, this area is still blessed with more than enough snow to necessitate an annual winter road closure, generally lasting 5-6 months.

For each season, and every outdoor experience, Washington Pass has an answer. The clean granite faces in shades of orange and grey on Liberty Bell, Early Winter Spires, Burgundy Spire and so many more are a mecca for alpine climbing. The bowls, faces and couloirs throughout the region are a ski tourer’s dream. Alpine mountain biking on Cutthroat Pass among golden larches in late fall is one of the rarest outdoor treats in the state, and the broad glaciers and sharp summit of Silver Star has been a mountaineering classic for generations.

One summer, I loaded my gravel bike with all of the camping, climbing and photography gear I’d need for weeks of cycling and alpine climbing, and pedaled my way to the best alpine granite in Washington state, culminating on the final day with an ascent of Liberty Bell on Washington Pass.

A few years ago, perfect conditions and timing allowed for a multi-day ski traverse and alpine climbing trip from the Early Winter Spires, over Kangaroo Ridge, to Silver Star and the Wine Spires, with iconic multi pitch rock climbs added to each day of ski travel.

Just last October, I laughed uncontrollably as I floated my way through feet of cold, silky powder, dodging still-golden larch trees near Blue Lake during what would turn out to be one of the best storm cycles of the entire winter.

While there are limitless places in the Cascades that I’m grateful to have experienced, not many inspire the same kind of return frequency as Washington Pass. It’s also a place I don’t allow myself to visit without a camera.

Maxed out, hanging by my fingernails, hoping my shoes stay smeared to the tiny granite crystals holding me against the will of gravity and the dizzying air below, I’ve never once resented the added weight of my camera. With massive packs full of climbing, skiing and camping gear to allow for week-long adventures, I’ve never wished I’d left my camera at home. On the contrary. During the early morning alpine starts as our position in the alpine landscape rises with the sun, during the dusky rappels from high summits after long days sharing a rope with a good friend, I’ve only ever been thankful to have the tools to help me remember, and to share the experience with those not able to be in that amazing place, in that finite, miraculous sliver in time.

Amazingly, the mountains surrounding Washington Pass—some of the most superlative landscapes in the Pacific Northwest—are not included in the North Cascades National Park. They are also not included in the neighboring Stephen Mather or Pasayten Wilderness areas.

The only thing that offers federal protection from incursions of road building and resource extraction in this area is the 2001 Roadless Rule, which protects this, and 45 million acres of our country’s wildest landscapes from development.

This rule is under active threat from the Trump Administration. A public comment period is open as of the opening of this show, but ends September 21st, 2026.

If these photos speak to you, if you have a relationship with these places, please take action. Please submit a public comment defending the Roadless Rule and the myriad ways in which it benefits our environment, our plant and animal siblings, our air, water, recreation, health and wellness. If my work has one message it’s this: these places must not be taken for granted, and they need our voices. All of them.