This was the main objective of the trip.
North Howser Tower is the undisputed king of the Bugaboos—the largest, most remote, and arguably most intimidating peak in the range. One of its most coveted lines is
All Along the Watchtower. The route climbs the left side of the west face before gaining a long, left-facing corner system high on the wall, followed by an intricate ridge leading to the summit. The lower section offers varied 5.9 and 5.10 climbing before traversing left into the sustained upper dihedral that defines the route: about 260 m (850 feet) of continuous climbing. It is a serious alpine undertaking that pushed the standards of the day when it was first climbed.
In August 1981, Ward Robinson and Jim Walseth established
All Along the Watchtower. Their pioneering ascent involved significant aid climbing and took multiple days to complete. Fifteen years later, in 1996, Topher Donahue and Kennan Harvey completed the first free ascent, transforming it into a sustained 5.12 free route and cementing its reputation as one of North America’s premier alpine rock climbs. More recently, Bean Bowers and Dave Nettle completed the route in a remarkable 11-hour push, believed to be the first one-day free ascent, underscoring both its historical significance and enduring challenge.
Our plan was to climb the route in a single push without bivouacking, continuing through the night if necessary. With a full moon having been the previous night, we expected to have enough natural light to keep moving after dark.
When we arrived at the base, one party was already on Pitch 1. We quickly passed them when they got off route, taking advantage of the opportunity to move ahead. Four more parties arrived at the base in quick succession behind us (for a total of six parties going for the route). It was appalling to see this difficult objective become so popular—and, as we would learn throughout the day, the crowds created serious objective hazards. (Perhaps the crowding was a result of everyone rushing to get on the route while snow still remained on the bivy ledges, avoiding the need to haul six liters of water for a multi-day push.)
In three separate incidents, parties were injured or forced to retreat. In one, a climber fell into a moat and was fortunate to be caught by his pack, escaping with only a badly scraped face. They retreated. The party approaching behind them saw the fall as well as the congestion on route and wisely bailed before reaching the base (I have included a link to their gps track for their retreat route on this page). In another, a climber was struck by a rock that a rope from a party several pitches above had swept off a ledge. Fortunately the injury was slight and they decided to continue. Later, a team that had just established a bivy at the Pitch 7 ledge was hit when snow and ice slid off the wall while they were below it. The injuries were serious enough to require a short-haul rescue.
I cannot help but think that the number of people on the route contributed to these accidents. Climbers were rushing to get in line, the ledges were generally loose, and the bivy sites were crowded. On a route with this much objective hazard, congestion compounds the risks—perhaps exacerbated by a lack of alpine experience, although all the parties on the route appeared to be experienced and competent.
John and I were ahead of all of this, enjoying the climbing, having a blast, and completing a remarkably hassle-free ascent. The haul bag never even got stuck, and neither of us took a fall. We were only vaguely aware of the chaos unfolding around us. There were also a couple of major rockfalls on the wall to our left, adding to the mountain chaos.
At his own request—and much to my delight—John led the entire route. I was happy to follow, knowing that this was probably the fastest way for us to climb it and that it would allow me to enjoy my self-assigned role as the route’s documenter even more. I took lots of photos. John practically cruised the 5.11 pitches, onsighting them seemingly effortlessly. He even gave the 5.12 crux pitch a free attempt and climbed every move free with only a couple of hangs. If we had had more time and had not been trying to complete the descent in daylight, I imagine he would have pulled the rope and redpointed the pitch. Moving this way, we made excellent time.
We climbed in fix-and-follow mode. I carried the follower pack, which held our extra water, clothing, crampons, personal food, ice axe, headlamp, and other gear. John carried a light pack containing the tagline, his food, headlamp, and ice axe. We hauled the corner pitches and the crux pitch. I would definitely not haul the lower or upper pitches, where low-angle terrain and loose rock on the ledges make hauling both difficult and hazardous.
We used my sister’s topos from her 2017 ascent (topos given below), along with
Jeff and Priti Wright’s beta from their 2019 ascent. Their beta was excellent, and we never got off route except once near the top of Pitch 1, when we blindly followed a party above us that had gone the wrong way.
The upper corner system—about 260 m (850 feet) of sustained 5.10 and 5.11 climbing—was incredibly good. I have never climbed a corner system that was so long and sustained.
The “5.8 hand crack” noted in the guidebook near the top of the final 5.11 pitch was more like a #5-sized offwidth and felt 5.11. I imagine the flake has expanded since the route was first climbed.
At the top of the corners, we serendipitously ran into Jesse and Maury, who had just topped out on the harder pitches of a new route they were pioneering to our right, on the steep wall directly above Pitch 7 bivy ledge of
All Along the Watchtower. We followed them along the summit ridge, simulclimbing with micro traxions. Jesse and Maury eventually unroped, while John and I remained roped together, and they gradually pulled ahead. We got a little lost near the end of the ridge but managed to regain the route with a short rappel from some tat. A couple of pieces of old tat, along with a fresh cord, suggested that we were not the first party to make this mistake. We reached the summit shortly after 9:00 p.m., with about an hour of daylight remaining.
Jesse and Maury had waited for us on the summit and made a welcome greeting party. We descended the East Face together. The terrain was incredibly loose, and small rocks came down nearly every time we pulled the ropes. I would not want to do those rappels with another party above me, which was probably the main reason Jesse and Maury had waited. We had no hitches and reached the glacier beyond the bergschrund just as we needed to turn on our headlamps.
With the full moon brightening the way, we headed back to camp. We enjoyed a nice dinner when we arrived (Jesse and Maury pan fried lamb chops (!) while John and I had ramen and oatmeal, respectively), then crawled into bed around midnight.
Camp to camp: 19.5 hours.
All Along the Watchtower is among the biggest climbing objectives I have ever completed. It may not have been the hardest in terms of pure technical difficulty—I have climbed harder routes, including
Moonlight Buttress, the
Original Route on Rainbow Wall, and
Cloud Tower, all around 5.12, as well as equally long routes such as
The Nose on El Capitan. But when logistics, approach, descent, weather, route-finding, objective hazard, length of route, and overall commitment are considered together,
All Along the Watchtower stands apart.
This page includes a route overlay, my sister’s topos, a GPS track and map, time statistics, our gear list, and photos from the adventure.
And what an adventure it was. John and I had a blast. I couldn't have asked for a better partner.
For approach from East Creek and rappelling the East Face.
My sister Jenny made this excellent topo when she climbed the route about a decade before I did.