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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Up, down and out

Skiers earn their turns On Mount St. Helens climb

By Bill Jennings I Correspondent

Standing on the rim of the gigantic, steaming caldera, the awesome power of the blast still resonates. The sight into the bowels of Mount St. Helens is an impressive reminder of how lives were so profoundly affected in 1980. To ski down after the climb in such an exotic volcanic setting is icing on the cake of a great climbing experience. You won’t need a lift ticket, but you’ll pay a serious physical price for the thrill.

I tagged along with a video crew from Spokane’s Peak Video Productions, which documented the experience for an upcoming nationally syndicated television ski adventure series. The group set out to climb the mountain July 1 – usually late in the season for good skiing. This year, it was perfect.

The mountain’s snowpack was 435 percent of average and the snowline was 3,300 feet on the 8,365-foot peak, according to SNOTEL, the National Resources Conservation Service’s online automated system used to collect snowpack and climate data.

The Peak crew bivouacked at Lone Fir Campground, the only alternative to camping in immediate proximity to the volcano. To make the seven-hour, six-mile, 5,565-foot ascent in time for lunch, we rousted from our sleeping bags at 4 a.m. for the short drive to the trailhead.

Around a bend in the road from Cougar, the mountain shows itself for the first time, looming like a huge flat-topped beast. The 1980 eruption was a lateral blast that ripped away most of the north face. Climbing routes scale the south face, which remained intact except for the top 1,300 feet of the cone.

The road to Climber’s Bivouac, the normal trailhead for the summer route, was still blocked by snow. The winter trailhead is Marble Mountain Sno-Park at 2,800 feet – one and a half miles and 1,000 feet below Climber’s Bivouac.

Starting about 5:30 a.m., skis and boots on our backs, we hiked at a brisk pace on a trail covered with loose wet snow. Once we reached the timberline, pacing was in order. A lot of strenuous climbing was ahead.

“People who take their time usually have a better day,” said Sharon Steriti, a climbing ranger for Gifford Pinchot National Forest who ascends Mount St. Helens on the job twice a week. “It’s an all-day event, so enjoy the view.”

Steriti said that climbers have to be in decent, but not extreme, shape to make the trip. During April and May she sees more experienced mountaineers and skiers who are prepared for unpredictable weather and snow conditions. In summer, the volcano attracts recreational climbers from around the world.

Steriti works the route, answering questions, giving directions, checking permits and looking for tired or unprepared climbers.

“Getting to the top is optional,” she said. “Getting down is mandatory.

“I try to help some people make the decision to turn around for the benefit of themselves and the people who may be involved in rescuing them.”

Our group climbed deliberately. Cameraman Jim Bolser, a veteran of many ski shoots, was at ease with the added weight of a high-definition digital video camera and supporting gear. He would stop frequently to shoot, then climb double-time to catch up with the group.

“I lug that stuff all over the place,” Bolser said. “I like doing it so much I don’t feel it as a burden. I enjoy getting the images and bringing back the memories.”

The deep late-season snowpack allowed for climbing skins most of the way. Occasionally we clicked out of our skis to hike over rock or scale steep inclines by kicking steps in the snow.

Views on the climb include Mount Adams, Mount Rainier, Mount Hood and other Cascades peaks. Unfortunately, thick smoke from California wildfires blew into the area on our summit day. Long-range visibility was poor, but the landscape – snowfields divided by dark, undulating lava flows that resulted from eruptions about 500 years ago – was striking in its own right.

The climb to the rim is exhausting, but the payoff is a view into the maw of an active volcano, along with a sense of accomplishment and relief.

The crater is nearly two miles across and more than 2,000 feet deep. Beyond the jagged edge, lined with a deep layer of loose ash and pumice, huge cornices of snow overhung the abyss.

I unwittingly stepped out on the cornice to get a better view of the steaming lava dome rising 1,300 feet from the crater floor. North America’s youngest glacier, already about 650 feet thick, surrounds it like a moat.

Bolser quickly warned me to step back. He told me earlier in the year a snowmobiler did the same thing. That time the cornice broke. The man fell into the crater but he was rescued unhurt.

The dome represents the volcano’s handiwork from its last major eruption. From October 2004 to last February, a dump truck-sized load of lava the consistency of toothpaste was added to the pile every second.

Mount St. Helens is quiet for the time being, but Steriti said geologists predict the most active volcano in the Cascades will rebuild itself to pre-1980 height in 100 to 200 years – a blink of the eye in geologic time.

I used my pack as a cushion to avoid sitting in the ash while we ate lunch on the summit rim. Then it was time for the second payoff of our climb – skiing the Worm Flows route. About 4,500 vertical feet of rolling, intermediate-level terrain carpeted with butter soft corn snow sprawled out before us.

The run followed open snowfields, a few small crevasses, steep rollovers and troughs between walls of black basalt. Waterfalls bled off the melting snowpack. A filter of smoke and slight overcast preserved the snow quality.

The descent was serene, and surreal.

Bolser would scan the terrain, plan a sequence of shots and ski down the slope to set up his camera.

Veteran Peak ski talents Bob Legasa and Bill Savitz led the way. The rest of the party followed, relishing the thrill of perfect spring skiing in July on the slopes of an active volcano.

“Every trip we take is unique but this one ranks right up there,” Bolser said. “It was particularly satisfying because it had three phases. First, getting to the top because its there, then the incredible volcanic view, followed by an epic ski down.”

The conditions were outstanding, and we may have been among the last of this season to enjoy such perfect corn snow. Steriti predicted the skiing would only last a few more weeks.

There’s always next year – if the mountain continues to slumber.