Mount Hood 11,239′
Pacific Northwest
Total Time: 7:30
Distance: 8.7 miles
Elevation Gain: 5450′
Crux: PD
Trailhead: Timberline Lodge, full services
I fell asleep in the back of my car to a light rain falling, parked at the Trillum Lake Trailhead. When I woke up a few hours later at 1 AM, the rain had stopped, but thick low clouds were overhead. It did not seem like a promising start for an attempt on Mount Hood, although the forecast promised any chance of precipitation would be done by midnight. I quickly got dressed and drove up to Timberline Lodge and start of my climb, the clouds just beginning to part as I donned my crampons. I tried to ignore the fact that there were no others starting up at such an early hour, likely a bit earlier than necessary- needing to pick up Holly and Avery from the airport in Portland that afternoon and wanting to give myself as much time as possible for the climb. It was snow all the way to the trailhead, and it wasn’t long before I heard machinery roaring to life, with multiple snowcats quickly moving up the slopes to my left. I initially thought it was the resort workers getting an early start on grooming, but as the snow cats reached the top of the lift 2,700′ above, I saw a stream of headlamps filing out and onto the glacier above. It was hard not to feel a little jealous that the a group of climbers had just shaved off half the elevation gain of the climb, although it was comforting to know I wasn’t alone climbing in the suspect, although improving weather. The clouds were now almost completely cleared above as I neared the top of the first ski lift, spotting a headlamp off to the side of the track about 200′ above. Methodically plodding upwards, I got a shot of adrenaline when a Gatorade bottle rocketed past me on the ice. The headlamp that had been in front of me came trotting back down the trail my way.
“Have you seen my phone, I think I just dropped it?” He yelled down to me.
“No, but I just saw your Gatorade go past!.” I pointed to his hands- It looks like your phone is in your hands?” He looked down, but didn’t acknowledge that he was indeed holding his phone, actively using it as a flashlight.
“Dude, this is so Epic! I did Whitney with my dad 3 years ago and have been wanting to do another big mountain.” He introduced himself, something like Jaxxon or Braydyn or Karsyn, coming all the way from Florida. He seemed slightly high and already in a bit over his head. “Do you mind if we like, climb together?” he asked.
“If you can keep up,” I replied, definitely sounding like a dick, but also not looking to take on a liability or move slower with Holly and Avery waiting for me at the airport.
“Game on!” he replied, and got to work try to get his skis back on while I continued past in my crampons. I wouldn’t see him again.
As I continued higher, I found myself trending towards the ski lift to the left, the lights at the top of the lift subconsciously drawing me closer, like a moth to a flame. It took me just over two hours to reach the top of the Palmer chair lift, the wind now bitter cold and ripping through my five layers. I found a brief respite from the wind hiding in the door frame of the building at the top of the chairlift, and pulled out my down jacket, not expecting to need it this early. After choking down a few calories, I headed out back into the wind, skirting pockets of rock to the east with dawn just beginning to break (although I wouldn’t see the actual sun until the summit ridge). A trio of headlamps grew closer, and I quickly passed one of the guided groups, already turning back from reported altitude sickness. Climbing several hundred feet above the top of the chairlift, I could see an icy headwall leading up to Devils Kitchen, considerably steeper and icier than the slopes I had been climbing. I recognized I was nowhere near a good enough skier to come down the lower headwall in those conditions, and found a place to drop my skis near a pocket of rocks to find them easily on the return.
I continued up the steep slopes and found myself at the famous Devil’s Kitchen just before 6 AM, sulfuric gas risings from crevasses and fumaroles. Later in the season, this would be one of the cruxes of the climbs- the snow bridges at the bergschrund collapsing requiring a circuitous path to get through. But the snow bridges were still in excellent shape in early season and I continued past, following a well defined boot pack to Hot Rocks and the Hogsback at the base of the headwall. I could see the two other guided groups above me, slowly making their way towards the 1 o’clock and 2 o’clock couloirs above. The bootpack briefly left the snow for a sandy use trail around some small fumaroles before heading steeply upslope, steps kicked in all over the steep face.
The climbing was easy with so many steps kicked in, and I was still undecided on whether to ascend the 1 o’clock or 2 o’clock couloirs, both of which were reported to be in good condition. I had thought (mistakenly) that the guided groups above had headed up the 2 o’clock couloir, so I decided to head that way as well.
Although this was initially as easy as the boot packed slope below, I was surprised to find the middle section to be steep bullet ice. For the first I can remember in my 14+ years of climbing, I swung my ice axe into the walls of the chute to give myself extra purchase, the couloir narrow enough to stem across both sides with an axe on either a wall or the ground. The upper most section was just beginning to melt out, although nowhere near enough to be concerned about rock fall. It was just after 7 when I reached the top of the couloir and popped out to the two guided teams beginning their descent. The guide informed me that had climbed the much easier 1 o’clock couloir, which would be my planned descent.
After I quick chat, I walked the 100 yards of ridgeline on well defined bootpack to the highpoint, reaching the summit in just over 5 hours. The views were outstanding with Mount Adams, Rainer and Mount Saint Helens to the north, the Portland area to the west, and Mount Jefferson to the south. I had a small snack and shot Holly a text from the summit, assuring her I was on track to pick her up from the airport that afternoon.
I started back down and quickly passed a twosome just below the summit. The leader stuck out his hand for a fist bump and yelled through the wind- “Dude, we’ve been trying to catch up to you for hours, you were flying!”
Getting back to the top of the 1 o’clock couloir, I found the guided team had not made much progress in their descent, basically doing a roped downclimb off an ice picket and buried ice axe. This couloir was wider, and I could easily downclimb past them, for the majority facing forward and being mindful of knocking down any small ice on them.
The next round of climbers were just reaching the Hogsback as I dropped back down through the fumaroles, skirting Hot Rocks to the east and dropping back to Devils Kitchen. Looking down the lower headwall, there were now about a dozen climbers ascending, many with skis lashed to their backs. I recognized one face climbing up- Nathan Longhurst, who had just completed an incredibly impressive feat of being the second person to climb New Zealand’s 100 Peak Challenge, climbing them all in four months. We briefly chatted and I continued past to pick up my skis. It was only 8:30 when I reached them, the glacier still frozen solid and covered in boot prints and sun cups. I was fairly certain I wasn’t a good enough skier for the conditions, but I thought I would give it a try anyways, spending 10 minutes changing boots and getting my skis on, only to wipe out immediately on the hard ice. Rather than risk injury, I bootpacked down the slopes several hundred feet to the top of the ski lift, the runs still icy, but at least groomed. The upper lift hadn’t yet opened for the day with a few ski patrollers getting in position near the top of the lift. I popped my skis back on, and proceeded to descend 2,700 glorious feet all the way back to the parking lot in about 15 minutes.
I walked back to my car and after grabbing some snacks for the ride, hopped in my car and headed to Portland for lunch before picking up Holly and Avery at the airport.
