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Monitor Ridge,
Summit, Mt. St. Helens |
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Traffic has a way of rendering one's perception of time useless as I sit in traffic on a Friday night, desperate to make Jack's restaurant in Cougar, Washington before it closes. With only fifty non-reserved permits available, first come, first served, I hoped for the best. I made it to Jack's with fifteen minutes to spare as I waited for the crowds to pour in. They never did. I sped back home, permit in hand with a smile on my face. The next morning came and I systematically got up around three, showered, grabbed my gear, and sped to Climber's Bivouac at Mt. St. Helens.
With dreary weather that I did not even notice, I jumped out of the truck and hiked off at a three and a half mile pace. I was very focused as I did not want any more dramatic climbs on this mountain and wanted to simply summit, and see the views the effort rewarded. The fact that the weather might not let me have any of those mentioned views bothered me none.
I reached the permit marker at forty eight hundred feet in record time. I was still in heavy cloud cover but it looked like the ceiling of it was not far up. I continued climbing.
At fifty eight hundred feet, the haze that followed me most of the day, was almost gone. It thinned out enough that I could almost see my destination. My intensity and speed increased.
I continued my assault on this hike that I have been trying, however romantically, for a couple years now. I got into a great hiking rhythm and needed no breaks; my speed increasing.
Well above the clouds that covered the land as far as the eye could see, I have never been above cloud cover like this before, outside of a plane, and thought it as beautiful as it was vast.
To the east, I could make out Mt. Adams and it's south side climbing route. I sat in the sun and had my first break. I gulped down a liter of water and had a snickers bar for good measure.
I started passing more people that camped at Climber's Bivouac from the night before. As I got closer to the seven thousand foot mark, I picked up speed again, gaining summit fever, I would imagine.
No trip would be complete without a woodland creature. A little squirrel, a shot of water and I am up and over heading towards the USGS tower at seven thousand feet.
The wind picked up dramatically as I neared the tower. I put on a wind shell and started at the summit for a bit. I felt so well and so fresh yet that I knew, for the first time, I would make the summit without any fatigue.
I took a break at the tower as the wind increased with a force I had yet to experience in my early hiking life. I set down my pack, loaded with 4 liters of water, as it started to be carried away. I quickly grabbed it and donned a hat to cover my ears. I passed a very nice, young couple that I had met at Jack's the recent day, heading back down the mountain, and said hello.
The ocean of clouds, rolling up and past the mountain, looked remarkably like the ocean. The peaks that could be seen in the two hundred eighty degree point of view included, Mt. Adams, Mt. Hood, and Mt. Batchelor.
It was time to focus my attention on Death March. The Death March was the climb of the last 1300 feet of ash, at an average grade of twenty degrees.
My feet sunk deeply into the loose ash as I made the climb without effort. At the top I was rewarded with the views from above as well as Mt. Rainier and the northern blast area.
I inched over to the edge of the crater wall to look at the lava dome. I could almost see it pulsing as it grew remarkable fast in the last 24 years to a staggering height of 1100 feet. I had a sit and a think as the crowds of people that left at 6 this morning worked their way up to where I was. After some pictures and a granola bar, I grabbed my pack and raced back down towards the truck, now focused on heading back home for some good cooking.
The way back down proved easy as I have plenty of energy for the descent. I got back to the car and met the two, now changing, with a look of disbelief on their face. The disbelief was that I had made it up the last 1300 feet, had lunch, and descended 4300 feet down, in the time they did their last 3000 feet of descent. I checked this hike off my list as I do not think I would have ever made it had I not been as focused. Mt. Adams is now calling my name, but that is for another time.
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