Theoretical exit... has been partially done once

Description from those who tried. As it turns out, an exit via the south side of Brew Creek is not recommended. Our first problem was that at the end of the big flat glacier was a short set of cliffs. Although we were able to ski around this first set, the box canyon with raging river just a few kilometres later proved to be a more formidable obstacle. Since it seemed that any route we'd choose might end up with a rappel or two we setup camp at the top, so that we might have daylight if we needed it. The next day dawned cold and raining - perfect conditions to begin a bushwhack. We traversed into an old avi path to the east of the canyon and attempted to ski then climb down it. Eventually, however, it became too steep and the slide alder too slippery - we feared that at least one of the four of us would almost certainly fall, and it seemed to only be getting steeper. But at least we had lost a lot of elevation. We traversed back across toward the canyon, where we were able to get the rest of the way down with only a few short rappels. It seems likely that there was a better way down in between the bluffs and the slide path, but if you take any advice it should be to find another drainage. Then began the long terrible process of bushwhacking out Brew Creek. We didn't make it to the start of the old logging road the first day, but we sure did burn a lot of fuel attempting to turn the tent into a sauna that night. We got it pretty warm, and the wet gear made it pretty humid, but somehow we still felt cold and wet. Over the next couple days we realized that we weren't going to make it out within the number of dinners we'd brought, and began to ration our food. The bushwhacking was fairly coastal, with progress reduced to 100m an hour in the worst slide patches. I read about a BCMC party who burned their skis rather than carry them out, and could really sympathize. Some of us took to the "throw and retrieve" method of carrying skis, which is vastly superior to strapping them to your pack once the bush gets sufficiently thick. Although we expected the bridge near the gravel flats to be washed out, we were disappointed to find out that we wouldn't be able to cross Brew Creek there - it was far too deep and swift, and too wide to bridge with deadfall. The only roads we knew of were on the other side, at least until after the next river canyon on the south side. We prepared to bushwhack along and see if we could cross the canyon - we'd lost radio communication after crossing Brig, so it seemed there was nothing else to do. Since the terrain near Brew Creek got too steep, and cliffed out directly into the river, we were forced to climb up again and bushwhack up and over a 45 degree sidehill covered in slide alder - the best kind. We spotted a black bear, and followed him for a bit since it was the only direction where travel was possible. Coming back down, right when we'd lost most of our hope, we fell onto a logging road. Logging road? We hadn't come across it in our research - but there it was. Almost simultaneously I made radio contact with the logging camp, and Madeleine reported that the logging road bridged the river canyon one switchback lower. Now travelling fairly fast we crossed the bridge, ate what little food we had left in celebration, and radioed the logging camp to let Chuck know that we'd be back some time that night. "Are you sure you don't want to get picked up by helicopter?" Chuck asked over the radio. "There's one in camp right now flying some engineers around in your area". Although we were sitting on what seemed to be an old helicopter landing pad we scoffed at the idea - the tough part was done. However, just 50 meters along the logging road later the whole slope was totally washed out - it was replaced by a giant 150 meter wide 50m deep swath of steep sand, interspersed with huge teetering boulders. A little disappointing, considering we'd just eaten the last scraps of food and it was getting late. We started to bushwhack up and around, reduced to our previous speed records. That helicopter was seeming more and more tempting... Standing in the middle of the steep forest, one hour before dark with nowhere to setup the tent and no food, we decided that maybe that helicopter wasn't such a bad idea after all. We bushwhacked back to the helicopter pad and made the call. The next morning we chopped down the alder which had grown on the pad, both to clear a place for the helicopter and as revenge for all those kilometres of bushwhacking. Steve even managed to chop down a 6" diameter conifer with the adze of his mountaineering axe.