Mt. St. Helens - June 5

The second climb of Pentaquest 2010 took place on Saturday (6/5) when Jared, Nate, Nick, Matt and I attempted Mt. St. Helens. This marked my second time up St. Helens, and the first for the rest of the team.

The evening before the climb, Nate, Nick, Matt and I drove out to the tiny hamlet of Cougar, WA and camped at the Lone Fir Resort. After an uneventful night (except for Nate realizing he had forgotten several articles of clothing), we woke up Saturday morning around 5:30 a.m. to clear blue skies. This was exciting since the weather during the previous week had been terrible with additional rain forecast for the following Sunday. When I reserved permits back in February, I had no idea how the weather would turn out - it's always a gamble. Our Mt. Hood climb in May was delayed by two weeks because of bad weather and unsafe conditions. But for St. Helens, we seemed to have good weather karma.

After eating breakfast at the Lone Fir, we drove ten miles to the trailhead at Marble Mountain Sno Park. Much to my surprise, Jared drove up that morning from Portland to meet us (Nate and I had a bet going on whether or not he would show - fortunately I was wrong). By starting at Marble Mountain (as opposed to the traditional summer trailhead at Climbers Bivouac that was still closed due to snow), we added 1,000 feet of elevation gain to the climb - bringing the total gain close to 6,000 feet.

At 8:00 a.m., we hit the trail. The route began by winding through the forest at the base of the mountain for about two miles before reaching the timberline. The conditions were outstanding - we could see St. Helens through the trees with occasional glimpses of neighboring Mt. Adams to the east. We eventually emerged from the forest and crossed into a rocky hinterland separating the trees from the snowpack. On my climb a year ago, this area was shrouded in fog and looked like a moonscape. But on this day, the blue skies and unlimited visibility made it an entirely different experience.

Soon after reaching the timberline, we began scrambling up an elevated spine of rocks extending up the side of the mountain with snow on either side. We stopped more than once to take off a layer of clothes and apply sunscreen (although not enough in my case, as I would learn the next day). With little to no breeze blowing, we started warming up in the direct sunlight and rays reflected up from the snow. It was hard to believe that yesterday the same spot was probably being hit by a downpour and 20-30 mph winds.

As we continued upwards, we got off of the spine and began slogging up the mountain in the snow. Many climbers before us had created steps in the ice making the ascent easier than scrambling up through the rocks. The steepness in a few places was almost enough to require an ice axe and crampons, but we forged ahead using climbing poles. I found it hard not to keep stopping to take in the view. Mt. Adams to the east seemed to be watching over our ascent.

Several hours into the climb, we reached a solar powered US Geological Survey station. Here is a video from the site narrated by Nate and Jared:

Above the station, a group of 20-30 determined webelos progressed up the mountain. I admired their determination. After scarfing down some food, we continued our own slog and soon passed the webelos. At this point we still had about two thousand vertical feet to go before reaching the crater rim. Despite the length of the climb and the hot sun, we all seemed to be going strong.

After another 90 minutes, the edge of the summit became visible for the first time. We all dug deep and maintained a slow and steady pace. The view was utterly spectacular - to the west, the mouth of the Columbia River at Astoria; to the southwest, Portland and Vancouver; to the south, Mt. Hood and Mt. Jefferson; and to the east, Mt. Adams. My camera didn't come close to doing the scene justice.

Here is a video of the team nearing the top:

Finally, at about 2:00 p.m., we reached the crater rim! Our view to the north of a snow-covered slope was replaced by an unobstructed view of Mt. Rainier and Spirit Lake. 30 years and 17 days ago, this sight would not have existed without climbing another thousand feet. But the eruption of May 18, 1980 ejected the core out of the mountain, violently altering the landscape and creating the view seen on this day. Once 9,677 feet in elevation, the high point around the crater rim now stands only 8,365 feet above sea level as a result of the eruption.

As we took in the scenery, we had to avoid getting too close to the edge. Snow cornices line the rim and are known for collapsing into the crater without warning. It's difficult to tell where the mountain stops and a cornice begins - in February 2010, an experienced climber fell to his death when a cornice collapsed under his feet. We also had to bundle up because of a cool breeze blowing over the rim.

After we finished celebrating and taking pictures, we prepared to glissade down the mountain. In my limited experience, St. Helens is one of the best glissade-able mountains in the Cascades. Since we climbed early enough in the season, the mountain still had plenty of snow - reducing the chances of running over a rock on the way down (something I did last year).

To say glissading is fun is an understatement. If poles cost $80 and a fleece $150, after climbing for six hours up six thousand vertical feet, glissading is the "priceless" part of the MasterCard commercial. Within 15 minutes, we literally descended two thousand feet. Here is a video showing Jared glissading:

The beauty of St. Helens is that at the right time of year, you can almost glissade the entire way back to the edge of the timberline. Except for a few spots where we had to traverse between glissade-able routes, we slid down most of the mountain. At one point during the descent, we went over a steep drop that caused each of us to catch some air. Here is a video of Matt going over the drop a second time:

After getting beyond the snow, we quickly hiked through the woods and back to the trailhead. We arrived back at Marble Mountain Sno Park just after 5:00 p.m. The entire day - stops and all - took us nine hours. I'm glad we didn't rush through the day. We made the most of the great conditions and soaked in the scenery at every opportunity.

On the way home, we ate our third meal in two days at the Lone Fir in Cougar (we were on the verge of becoming regulars) and reflected on the day. We all learned something from the climb - each one of us (especially Nate) forgot some article of clothing or gear that will probably never be forgotten again (I left my gaiters in the car). But I think the key takeaway is that St. Helens - and perhaps the Northwest - will never look the same to any of us. Climbing a mountain you see every day - especially one as storied in local history as St. Helens - has a reinforcing effect on one's sense of place. From the mountain's slopes, you can literally see the entire region. And in a much more meaningful way than looking out an airplane window. The effect is powerful.

Now on to Mt. Shasta in less than two weeks!