Mt. Hood – July Shreddage
The dust was finally settling on an abandoned trip plan, and from that cloud emerged a free, high pressure weekend in the mountains. As crowds rushed to Fred Meyer to pick up last minute Ameri-brews, Hot Dawgz, and all the ABC’s of BBQ’s, Brad, Katy, and myself rushed to make a decision on what to do during the weekend after America Day.
After spending Friday recovering from Fourth of July shenanigans and finishing up tasks for work, we packed snowboards, crampons, ice axes, bits and bobs, and some delicious wraps into our car and began the slog down to Mount Hood.
Four hours later we found ourselves pulling into Government Camp, where Goulash, Pizza, and Fried Fish all coexisted in perfect harmony on our dinner table at Glacier Haus. A while later, we were parked at Timberline Lodge, where we napped for two hours before a 1AM alpine start.
The star-show during the hike up the cat-track to get above Timberline Ski Area was incredible: satellites, shooting stars, distant planets, every summer constellation and a bright milky way all slowly rotated over our heads as we carried on, towards the summit and towards the sunrise.
Around 9200’, we ditched our snowboards and donned crampons as the snowfields became a little steeper and the cooler temps of higher elevation meant a harder snow pack. Taking a break for breakfast near the top of Coleman Glacier, we stared out at the massive shadow of Mt Hood over the cloud layer that fanned a few thousand of vertical feet below us. It was beautiful, and it was chilly.
We roped up at the base of Hogsback, and followed traffic up the Old Chute, where we made quick work of the last few hundred feet of steep snow and crossed the semi-precarious knife ridge to the 11,249’ summit around 8am.
The descent was slow moving and careful-stepping. Rocks rolled off the Steel Cliffs, careening down the chutes around us and into the active fumaroles below. Exhaustion from the hike was mixed with the lingering side effects of an eventful and long week of drinks, friends, and laughter. Our climb of Mt Hood involved the same elements: drinking (water), friends, and laughter.
Our stiff and tired bodies reached our stashed snowboards, which provided us with gu-like energy and raised spirits. My headache seemed to stop bothering me so much as I strapped on my board. The air filled with shouts and hollers from Brad and Katy as we carved July snow down to the lodge.
3,200 vertical feet later, we were back at the car, twelve hours after we left. With minimal traffic back to Seattle, Katy and I were back at our apartment by about 5:30pm. We gave some fleeting thoughts to unloading the car, but opted to take a nap instead.
I napped for fourteen hours. The pictures from my camera confirmed to me that our climb of Mt. Hood wasn’t a dream.
Taking a break in the middle of the night to check out stars and drink some water.
Jefferson stick out like a sore thumb above the clouds…
Hood making its presence known. Sometimes it’s nice to be reminded that you’re on a mountain, after all.
Old Chute with the traffic. Our original route, through the Pearly Gates, is on the right side up and above the Hogsback (ridge in the center). It wasn’t a good option that day.
Looking back from near the top of the Old Chute
Summit stoke! Katy, myself, and Brad.
The ‘shrund
High spirits on the snowboard descent.