Agassiz Peak 12,356′
Arizona Alpine
Total Time: 8:20
Distance: 6.0
Elevation Gain: 3270′
Crux: Class 2, F
Trailhead: Snowbowl, full services
At 12,356′, Agassiz Peak is the second highest mountain in Arizona. Sitting just a few miles south of the highest- Humphreys Peak, it sees considerably less traffic. It isn’t that the hordes seeking the high point are deliberately ignoring Arizona’s silver medal mountain, but the peak is actually closed to hiking to protect the rare San Francisco Peaks groundsorel, found no where else in the world. In fact, off trail travel is prohibited in the entire range above treeline. The only time of year the summit can be climbed legally is in the winter, when snow and ice cover the slopes and protect the underlying plants from the footsteps of careless hikers like myself. My first time climbing in the SF Peaks and up Humphreys Peak was actually a winter ascent of the Dutchman’s Glade, and heavy snow and high winds kept my partner and I from tagging both. So almost 4 years later, I left Phoenix extremely early to bag Arizona’s #2. My goal was to utilize the consolidated snow of the ski slopes of Snowbowl before they opened for the day, and I rolled into the parking lot a bit after 6 AM, a few other groups on dawn patrol getting gear organized in the otherwise empty lot. My car read 18 degrees at the trailhead, and they were calling for high winds over 30 mph above treeline, so I started up the mountain with several layers, my Mountain Hardware synthetic mountaineering pants and my new Black Diamond gloves that I picked up in Nepal. It was my first time using the gloves, and I realized I hadn’t done anything resembling alpine climbing since Mera Peak over a year ago. As soon as I hit the snow, I threw on my crampons and started up the Northstar run to bring me to the Ridgeline runs higher up. The upper ski lift is at ~11,500′, and I was about halfway there at 7:30. I felt like I could easily clear the resort by opening time at 9 AM.
I was probably only 300′ below the top of the ski slopes when a parade of ski patrol came zipping down at around 8:30. They nicely but rather directly informed me that uphill travel is not allowed past 8 AM, and that I needed to move off the slopes if I was to continue upwards. Since there was a ski patrol station at the top of the upper lift, I did as instructed and moved into the forest and unconsolidated snow. This would actually be a bit of an undoing for me, as my progress slowed dramatically postholing up through the forest. I had been averaging 1,000′ of ascent per hour, and the last 300′ to the top of the lifts took over 30 minutes and drained me quite a bit. Now at treeline, I ducked behind the ski patrol station to throw on my down jacket and have a quick snack and drink before exposing myself to the high winds for the next several hours. A fence above the ski patrol hut was half buried in snow, and I climbed over to start up the final 800′ to the summit of Agassiz.
The snow on the upper ridgeline was wind blown and fairly firm to climb with crampons, with the high winds being the biggest factor in slowing me down. I went up and over one false summit and sat down in a half buried rock ring out of the wind for one last break before the final summit push.
As (bad) luck would have it, thick clouds moved in just as I started up the final 200′ and I lost all visibility, reaching the summit in a complete white out. They were calling for a winter storm in the afternoon, and this was the first snow cloud of the day, pelting me with small ice crystals with no where to take cover on the exposed peak.
With no views and the high winds, I spent almost no time at the summit. I was already told by the ski patrol that I couldn’t hike back down the slopes, and I had no choice but to descend the north ridge to the Agassiz-Humphrey saddle. Unfortunately, this meant my left side received the brunt of the high winds and blowing ice, and I had to stop every few feet to give the left half of my face a break from the needle like pain. I didn’t stop until I reaching the saddle where I seemed to be just below the clouds and the worst of the wind.
There were snowshoe tracks in the snow that I initially tried to follow to keep on the Humphrey Peak trail. But I quickly lost them in the windblown snow. Even with a GPS, I couldn’t find where the trail entered the forest and began to descend the bowl directly. This time, the loose snow was my friend, and I could quickly plunge step my way down through the powder, descending to the ski runs at the bottom of the bowl.
I tried to stick inside the forest to avoid a scolding by ski patrol, but had no choice but to drop on to the runs as I got closer to the base. One ski patrol did stop me but didn’t seem to mind as long as I stuck to the edge of the runs, and I dodged skiers and snowboarders on the bunny slopes to make my way back to the car. It started to lightly snow as I took off my gear, and I started my drive down the mountain, getting a head start on most of the skiers and snowboarders getting in a few final runs. Aside from a quick stop for gas, I headed directly back to Phoenix for a hot shower and cold beer after what would probably be my last snowy summit in the state.