Normally, I like to spend much more time on these, although the necessity to keep up with current events and happenings dictates that I grind this out now in some new and odd floral coffee shop in Yakima. As Spring pops, the weather bursts open and closes just as quickly. I am remembering why I love it so much, the springtime. I have concluded that the weather is good if you are willing to drive for it! Spring for me this year began a few days before the austral winter ended. For several years, I have noticed predictably good weather on the volcanoes around the calendar end of winter. For these outings, I typically link up with my good friend Carter. We grew up together in Yakima and also got into mountain sports simultaneously, so our trips have an extra layer of fun that I always relish. Considering the several days of stable weather over St. Patrick’s Day weekend, we decided to haul overnight packs as high and far as we could regardless of how far away the road was open. Historically, we have been pretty anti-camping, though for some reason, in the last few years, it has decidedly swung the other way; camping is in! It was unfortunate, however, that this approach ended up being the longest approach either of us has done between the collective 50+ trips to the mountain.
Google maps listed Coldsprings campground at 7 miles although our plan was to camp a bit to the West with our descent of the SW Chute in mind. Just as quick as we fell asleep cowboy camping, my alarm at 0600 went off. Time to begin the slog in the dark. Skinning immediately from the car ended up being quite lucrative for us. After several hours of mundane touring through the flatlands, the forest eventually thins out and everything alive, is now dead and/or burned. Throughout the 2010’s, a series of beetle infestations and fires ravaged the landscape, leaving behind a wonderous ecosystem in the daylight; and a scary hollow looking and sounding forest at night. Nearing the Wicky Shelter, it was only 0900 but it was already bakingly hot, something I thought I had been prepared for. Sludging through the softening snow, we hastily decided to strike camp much lower than we had hoped due to the oppressive heat. In the end, we traveled 6.8 miles over 2,500’ to a camp only at 5,500’ – undoubtedly, it was going to be a full value summit day. We were both quick to sleep that evening. Although it was the final days of winter, the freezing levels that weekend were nearing 10,000’; so, down at 5,500’ in the sun it was quite the cookout.
Our tent setup that trip had been Carter’s new MSR party tent. Providing ample space, we slept with the primary doors open. In between lulls of sleep, I awoke to the starry sky of the night, wondering if the were any creatures lurking around. Soon enough, our 0600 alarm sounded as the stoves ignited and sleeping bags wiggled. Traveling the first hour or so via headlamp, we cruised unknown terrain to the west of the summer trail; eventually, stumbling upon someone’s trail from the prior day. Something that has always surprised me about Pahto and the climb of the South Spur, is how many individuals push camp up to Lunch Counter at 9,200’. Effectively, one carries their camp up, and down, most of the mountain with this strategy. Although our camp at 5,500’ felt relatively low, we soon found ourselves at lunchcounter within a couple of hours from departing camp. Some distance up The Wall of Death, the 2,000’+ ramp up Piker’s Peak, we opted for a massive break. Busting out the stove and the little piggies, life was good. Things were looking quite optimal all before I began the next stretch upward from 9,800’. Aside from poor food selection (only sugars), I foolishly left my long underwear on. Each spring I find early season hesitation to hoard warm layers, as my bones from the wet and cold winters are still frigid. Indeed that day, they have been cooked and charred. I bonked the hardest I have in recent memory. Another big mistake I made was choosing to boot instead of skinning. One thing I stress teaching others about ski-mountaineering is, that as soon as we decide to boot vs. ski-tour, we accept moving much, much slower and inefficiently; and so, the damage was done. Classically, I fell behind Carter, trudging up the wall of death; I was physically and mentally humbled, once again by the older brother, Pahto.
Arriving at the summit 1230, I smashed as much food and liquid as possible in lieu of out descent, the SW Chute. Arguably, this route should be on the 50-classic ski descents of N. America, but what do I know about good ski lines in the PNW? For around an hour, Carter and I, relaxed on the warm winter summit of Pahto. Later on in the summer, the summit and the entire mountain really, become flooded with budding mountaineers, unaware fo the humbling nature of the Wall of Death. We relished being here alone. As the time rolled around, we began descending around 1330. Quickly I began snapping photos of the summit pyramid and Avalanhce Glacier Headwall. We had one more day on the books after this summit day with uncertainty on our plans and I had strong desires to ski a new route. Charging forward, we found our way to the SW Chute and threw down turns on the perfect 45* entrance! All things considered, the skiing was quite amazing per usual in this route, albeit 30-minutes too late.
The SW Chute pictured here. We came in from the upper looker’s left shoulder. The Avalanche Glacier is on the L-edge of the photo.
Making quick work of 4,000’ descent, we skid right into camp sometime around 1500; maybe a 30/40 minute descent while taking our time! By now, the snow was mashed potatoes and grabbier than hell down low, we were quite glad to have a camp to loiter and suntan the day away! Normally, I do not spend much time camping in the backcountry on my own time but this was quite luxurious. Enjoying our libations and such, we shoveled out snow-recliner chairs the remainder of the evening. Discussing our plans for the final day, our desires were to go back up again; however, the reality of our fatigue set in and we decided to descend. I was quite bummed to not enjoy the weather up high on the mountain although, the firm conditions traveling back to the car were an epiphany! We traveled the 6.5 miles, 2,500’ in 30 minutes from our camp! This definitely more than made up for the ass-kicking approach a few days ago. Ultimately, we had the mountain to ourselves, discovered a new strategy to ski this route/ mountain (especially in a lengthy approach), and came away a few shades darker; what’s not to love!
Yakama Alpinism 