We pulled up after work at
Feathered Friends to rent my AT setup for the weekend. For the first time since
middle school I slid my foot into a ski boot. It felt like it fit. When asked
about my ski level to adjust the DIN setting, I blurted out that it had been
about a decade since I last skied. A taken aback look was thrown at me from my
friend Skye – a decade? And we’re going to go ski a stratovolcano tomorrow?
Well… at least a stunted stratovolcano.
In the years since that
first ski ascent of Mt. St Helens I’ve gone back each year, braving the Seattle
rush hour traffic that slowly gives way to open fields and big skies. We’ve
always tried to time the climb for a beautiful day with gorgeous views into the
crater. That hasn’t worked out each year, but we’ve always enjoyed the challenge
of climbing 5600’ and the thrill of descending the same. Every time back to the
snow-park, I’m reminded of the first time I climbed Mt St Helens.
The morning was dark when
we packed skis onto the sides of our packs. Each of us our own little A-frame
house. I hadn’t before put that much weight onto my back – skis and boots are
heavy!
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| Alpine start with descent gear strapped awkwardly to our packs... (photo from Skye) |
The dimly lit trudge up the well-marked trail led to views of white
slopes ahead through the trees. The landscape was about to change, abruptly. Breaking
out of the trees and coming around past Chocolate Falls you can see what you’ll
be up to for the next 4-6 hours. Giant white slopes lead to the sky –
unimaginable that they used to reach some 1300’ higher! I had never before
stood at the foot of such a slope – it was a bit overwhelming. The cool night
had refrozen much of the snow, even at this low elevation, and the skinning was
a bit tricky. It’s amazing that adhering a small section of hairy tape to the
bottom of your skis changes the balance of friction so greatly in your favor.
Ahh, but not totally in your favor. If you don’t trust it and try to sneak your weight around, the skins know it and slide mercilessly downhill. When I began
to slide I would jump and throw my skis across the slope – a reaction learned
during skiing in bounds on the icy slopes of the east coast. It’s amazing to me
today that given the effort involved in just a few of those uphill hockey stops
that I was able to make any upward progress. I did though, slowly. Climbing became
easier in the late morning as the sun warmed the slopes. We inched our way up
the never ending ramp up to the mountain’s precipitous drop into the crater.
Luckily clear views were had and before long we had clicked back into skis
ready for the descent.
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| Booting up the final slopes to the actual summit. I had no concept of "skiing from the summit" yet. (photo from Skye) |
I was told later that the snow was good. A solid base
with just enough soft snow on top to make easy turns. The upper mountain hadn’t
warmed yet and I made nervous scratchy turns for the first few hundred feet.
Thankfully the snow lower down allowed me to ski sloppily most of the way down
to the flat apron, where the sticky sludge played tricks on my balance and each
turn ended up with me laying on the ground. Exhaustingly I would sit back up –
a full core workout in each repetition.
The ski out the trail to snowline was straightforward, and the basking
in the parking lot sunshine was about to commence… a ritual that has become one
of my favorite parts of this spring time classic climb.
Coming back the next year with Nicole and Becky, we climbed up in similar fashion, with perhaps
more clouds during the ascent. Unfortunately as we were topping out, clouds
obscured all views into the crater. I described to Nicole what you could see
from this vantage, but the words fell on deaf ears.
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| Nicole and I on the summit. Unfortunately no views... |
We dragged lunch out a bit,
but still the clouds stayed with us, so we descended. By the time we reached
the apron at the bottom of the mountain the summit had cleared, and I imagined
views into the crater were excellent – next year!
In 2012 we recruited a
number of friends to join for a Friday night crash at the trailhead and
Saturday climb of the mountain. This would be the earliest in the year we had
attempted the climb. The date, combined with the epic snowpack, would make
for either a treat or a death march. Turned out to be both. The warming
temperatures spurred discussion of avalanche conditions, which we ultimately
decided to evaluate during the climb instead of outright cancelling our trip. It
also should have triggered a reminder to bring flotation for the hikers in our
group, but unfortunately did not. Nicole and Kristen were on foot
while the rest of our group started skinning (no A-frame!!) from the trailhead.
Even in the early morning chill the ladies were postholing up to their knees
about every fifth step. We hoped that once we got out of the trees the snow
would prove firmer – it had been a clear night so I was hoping despite the
above freezing temperatures that the surface had managed to freeze up. The
going was slightly faster above the trees, but postholing still sapped their
energy until almost 3 miles in when the climb really began and postholing was
replaced by step kicking. Still a tiring process but at least it was expected,
and even snowshoers had begun leaving their snowshoes behind.
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| Morning light on the mountain as we pop out of the trees |
The remainder of
the climb was straightforward as we climbed up under cloudless skies and
scorching sun. Despite the heat and abundant sunshine the snow conditions
remained very stable and we continued up to the top with no problems.
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| Pahto (Adams) and the Worms Flow on St Helens |
Summit
views were extraordinary. We had a brief break to recharge and then headed down
quickly to avoid allowing the lower slopes to get too sloppy.
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| Neighboring volcanoes from St Helen's crater rim |
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| Nicole and I on the summit - much better views! |
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| Mt St Helens summit views. Tahoma (Rainier) and Pahto (Adams) in the background. Nicole enjoying the views...and for those photographically inclined - don't do as I do - remove your polarizer when doing panos... the sky was 100% blue... |
The skiing was
firm off the summit, as was to be expected, followed by 1,000’ or more of
creamy turnable goodness, if you were able to stay off of the eastern aspects
of the ridge which had had more sunshine in the morning. The glissading and
plunge stepping conditions were excellent as well and the girls made great time
down the mountain. Once down to the apron, however, the postholing began with
much higher frequency and depth. I took off down the trail and got to the cars
where I loaded up on spare gear (snowshoes and a friend’s ski gear-blast, an
A-frame!?) that could be used as flotation, and brought it back up to Nicole
and Kristen, who were still suffering through deep snow a quarter mile down
from Chocolate Falls. Thankfully the exit was then quick and we all enjoyed a
little parking lot sunshine before taking off down the road towards food and
Seattle. I think next year we’ll plan the trip for May, and we’ll all be
skiing…
