Trip Report
from
Mt Hood

March 2004

The following are pictures and notes from a climb of Mt Hood, in Oregon, on March 20, 2004. The pictures were taken with a Kodak™ disposable camera, which didn't have a flash. Thumbnails are linked to the full resolution (600 dpi) images. All images are in PNG format, and the full resolution ones are roughly 3600x2400 pixels, and ~11 MB each.

The team consisted of myself (Paul), Mike, and Natasha. Both Mike and Natasha were new to mountaineering, while I have done a bit previously (Rainer, Shasta, lots of peaks in the Wasatch). Since none of us had done Hood before, and the books talked about how the bergschrund could be an obstacle, we went fully prepared. In addition to a mountain axe, helmet, and crampons for everyone, we also took a 9.7mm 60m dry rope, 6 snow pickets, 3 ice screws, harnesses, belay devices, and a third tool with hammer for placing pro. Given this mix of gear, we were equipped to handle everything up to (and including) sustained vertical ice. In the end, none of this extra gear was necessary for this climb, although other conditions would warrant most (or all) of the gear; carrying the gear is also convenient in the case a rescue is necessary. With the pickets, rope, and harnesses, we could have lowered an injured climber down to the ski slopes and medical aid.

We also had a stove, pot, and space blankets along in the off-chance the weather pinned us on the mountain. Including our extra clothing, we could have survived at least one night on the mountain (forced bivy). Given our team, this was unnecessary, as the route turns out to be so easy (for our team) that we really couldn't get pinned. Obviously, this determination must be made by each group, each time. We took all this gear in case we found ourselves on a serious route, in bad weather; we did not want to end up needing gear we didn't have.

We started climbing from the rough-terrain parking lot at Timberline; the plan was to be on top by noon. I wanted to start climbing at 0400 to give us 8 hours to get to the top (~2 hours slower than the listed 5-6 hours up). Due to various delays, we actually started climbing at 0500. As sunrise is closer to 0700 at this time of year, we came equipped with headlamps (or a flashlight) for the initial part of the climb. In an ideal case, a team should be at the bottom of the Hogsback at dawn, to have good light and solid snow for the last, steep push. The later in the season, the more important it would be to get on top before noon; for July/August climbs, I would plan to start before 0300 to be on top by 1000, and down by 1300.

Once dawn broke, we started taking pictures with the disposable camera....

Photograph of Natasha, just as dawn was breaking over the horizon. At this point, the team was about halfway to the top of the grooming. To get there took about 2 hours from the parking lot.

Paul, as dawn breaks; the shot is looking uphill, so no dawn color is visible. I was standing ~10 ft uphill from Natasha and Mike (see the previous picture). Mike took both these pictures.

Another couple of hours of climbing (~0900 at this picture), and we were all at the top of the groomed hills. At this point, Natasha decided that the summit is not worth the increasing pain from an injured hip. Mike took her picture with her pack off; you can just barely see the Timberline lodge buildings at the bottom of the frame. Natasha made it about halfway up the mountain in terms of elevation; more than halfway in terms of distance. After hiking back down to the truck, Natasha had a nice 6+ hour rest before Mike and I made it back down. Being the kind soul she is, Natasha took excess gear down with her, and we took the rope from her. Unfortunately, she also walked off with the only sunscreen....

Looking up above the groomed slopes - this is where Mike and I have yet to go. The entire route is visible from this point, if you know what to look for. There are also earlier/faster teams visible as the little black specks in the white snow. Fortunately for us, we can avoid those large looming cliffs, and stay on the nice easy snow; perhaps with a more insane team those cliffs would go, but I don't trust the rock enough to try. Anyone insane and suicidal enough to try the cliffs (and live), let the rest of us know how it is.

Here is an edited version of this picture showing our route from the top of the ski slopes to the summit. The red line is the route, which is hidden in places by the topography. Notable (and named) features on the route are labelled. At the bottom, on the large open slope just above the ski slopes, we didn't go straight up, we switch-backed to make life easier, but roughly followed the indicated line on average.

Mike and Natasha, just before Natasha turned around due to her injured hip. Note the excess gear (snow pickets, etc.) strapped to her pack so we don't need to haul it up.

Myself at the top of the groomed slopes; note the happy expression and unburned face....

Partway up the open face above the groomed slopes. I like the look of the cliffs and snow, with the sky behind. There are certainly some more exciting routes possible just off to the east of the standard route; a number of lines up the giant prow look possible. Something for next trip.

Looking back down the open face above the ski slopes, with a tiny Mike in the middle skyline. The slope is fairly steep, so it is easiest to do long switchbacks up the snow face. The snow was perfect; stiff but not solid ice. The wind scouring of the snowfield was apparent, due to the large steps and channels, and the complete lack of loose snow.

Farther up the open face, just below the Crater Rock traverse, you can look to the left and see this dramatic point of rock below you. There is a steep, knife-edge ridge from the rock to the Crater Rock slope, which could be a bit of fun; another option for another trip.

Looking back down the open face, with a resting Mike. Mike, taking a hard-earned break from climbing, enjoys the spectacular view over the Pacific Northwest. Timberline, and the standard route, is approximately 30 degrees to the left of the edge of the photo. The rock point from the previous picture is off to the right. Another couple hundred feet of vertical, and we will be at the Hogsback and ready for the final push.

"You see that sharp spire, with the knife-edge ridge dropping to the snowline? Yeah, we didn't go that way...."
Depending on the rock, the spire in the background could make an awesome side trip. With this photo, Mike can prove he has been where the world gets steep, and only skill and strength keep you alive....

I took this picture of a less-than-happy Mike from the Hogsback, looking down the bowl to Devil's Kitchen. The tracked paths lead around Crater Rock from the ski slopes to the low point of the Hogsback, using a bunch of switchbacks to climb the last bit of slope. This route also keeps climbers well above the fumaroles of Devil's Kitchen; less danger of suffocating from hydrogen sulfide this way. Devil's Kitchen was bone-dry, and just to the right and below of this picture. The rock is discolored in the characteristic manner of fumaroles; Mt Hood is most definitely not dead, just sleeping.

Photo looking up the Hogsback and the final part of the hard climbing. The dots are other climbers; Mike and I took a short break to cool down and decide whether or not to proceed. We clipped packs to a snow picket, and did the summit push in a true "light-and-fast" style; I took both tools, crampons (wearing them), a water bottle, 2 Clif bars, and 2 packets of Vanilla Goo. After hauling pickets, screws, and a 60m rope up thousands of feet of vertical, Mike and I decided that there was no need for any of that gear, and left it all at the packs. At least one picket got used - it held the packs from possibly taking the fast way down while we were on top.

Mike, climbing the Hogsback. The Hogsback is steep, and narrow, but has a nice set of steps carved into the snow by all the climbing parties. I was above, and looking back down the slope, so it is steeper than it appears in the photo. Note that we are moving fast and light - no packs! The cloud on the right side of the photo is steam from a fumarole in the snow-less hole below the Hogsback. The smell of H2S was everywhere on the Hogsback, until you climbed a couple hundred feet up. Once on the Hogsback, there is only about 1200' of vertical left, most of it right here.

Me, on the Hogsback. Mike was just barely below me, and looking up at a steep angle. The broken skyline above and left are the rocks to the south and east of the Pearly Gates. The scorching due to a lack of sunscreen is definitely starting to be visible. Also note that while we did not use the rope, we did wear helmets and carry axes, just in case. An axe is definitely necessary for the end of the route.

Mike, just below the top of the Hogsback. The Hogsback continues through the bergschrund (which was completely filled with snow), and ends at the rock in the middle of the Pearly Gates. There is/was a nice platform there, with enough space for five or more people to sit and relax before tackling the steep chutes of the Pearly Gates. In a year/time with less snow, the bergschrund could pose an issue, and would definitely warrant helmets and crampons; ropes might be useful or necessary depending on the 'schrund condition, but were completely irrelevant on this trip.

Rock between the east and west chutes of the Pearly Gates. Notice the exquisite snow formations on the rock. This is directly above the rest platform at the top of the Hogsback.

A tunnel through the ice and snow on the Pearly Gates rock. This was just off to the right of the platform, and quite pretty. We took the east (right) chute up the Pearly Gates (along with most of the teams). The snow was easy, but steep (>50 deg). Since I had two tools (mountain axe and third tool), I broke left just after entering the chute to do some free-solo ice/snow climbing on steeper terrain. Mike stayed in the more common route, and slogged his way up using the one axe and crampons. In poor conditions, these chutes could be a deathtrap of avalanches. But, the fall line out of these chutes goes to the side of the Hogsback, making a fall annoying, but not likely fatal for someone below. Watch for ice and rock kicked loose by higher climbers, and stick near the central rock to avoid most or all the falling debris.

After getting out of the chute, there is a short (~150') snow slope to the summit ridge, and then you are done. This picture was taken by me, of Mike, from the summit looking south. Behind Mike both Mt Jefferson and the Three Sisters are visible. The summit ridge is quite long, and has little relief, although the true summit was easy to spot. Notice Mike's good form of being on self-belay with his axe.

Picture of me, pointing to Rainier (middle of 3 visible) and Liberty Ice Cap. I am standing as close to the top as I dare; the summit has a large cornice to the north, which I did not want to break through.

View looking back down the route from the summit. Notice the ski run buildings visible as black dots; the parking lot of Timberline is just visible to the right of the prominent snow-covered rock just left of center. Everything looks so small from 5000' up....

Mike, on the very summit of Mt Hood (~11,200'). Visible in the background are Mt St Helens, Mt Rainier, and Mt Adams. This represents a view spanning well over 100 miles to the north. The weather was stunning, with almost perfectly clear skies (just a bit of haze).

Mike and I on the summit, taken by another climber. The ridge in the background is a continuation of the summit ridge, and is not higher than the part we are standing on. This view is looking roughly northwest.

Myself at the top of the Pearly Gates eastern chute. The chutes get steeper than what is shown in this picture, and formed the only part of the climb with anything approaching technical difficulty. For those with little experience on steep ice and snow, it is quite exciting. For those with more experience, it is a lot of fun. One team used a rope to help descend this portion; the leader built a (marginal in my opinion) anchor at the top of the chutes, and belayed the first climber down. The rest of the team descended, using the rope as a fixed line, with prussiks attached to their harness in case of a fall. In principle, the leader could then downclimb with more safety than a free-solo; he could be belayed off a lower anchor placed by the earlier climbers.
I would have used a stronger top anchor (equalized pickets instead of a poor boot-axe belay) and intermediate protection (snow pickets would have held beautifully) placed by the first descending climber. The final climber is then far less likely to take a factor-2 fall onto the lower anchor if they blow the downclimb.

View looking down the Hogsback just before we descended. The snow was getting warm and soft, and my crampons started balling terribly. Given the steep terrain, and the heat (I was melting/burning in the sun), downclimbing the Hogsback was exciting and miserable at the end. After resting at our packs (visible as the tiny dots just left of the fumarole) and drinking almost the last of the water, Mike and I started down. We removed our crampons, and proceeded to make good use of gravity on the descent. Most of the slopes above the ski slopes we glicaded, at one point getting close to 1000' in a continuous run. Below the ski slopes, the snow was too warm and the angle too low to slide, so we ran.

The entire team, back at the truck, and ready to head for home. Notice the scorched look of Mike and I. Sunscreen should not be forgotten on sunny days. This cannot be emphasized enough. The climb took ~9 hours to reach the top, and about 3 hours to get down. Most of the time coming down was spent in the Pearly Gates or on the Hogsback; once we reached the open slopes, we dropped elevation fast by sledding. Despite the scorching and the hip injury, all concerned declared the trip good. Whether Mike or Natasha are willing to go again has not been determined....

	Photograph of Natasha, just as dawn was breaking over the horizon. At this point, the team was about halfway to the top of the grooming. To get there took about 2 hours from the parking lot.
	Paul, as dawn breaks; the shot is looking uphill, so no dawn color is visible. I was standing ~10 ft uphill from Natasha and Mike (see the previous picture). Mike took both these pictures.
	Another couple of hours of climbing (~0900 at this picture), and we were all at the top of the groomed hills. At this point, Natasha decided that the summit is not worth the increasing pain from an injured hip. Mike took her picture with her pack off; you can just barely see the Timberline lodge buildings at the bottom of the frame. Natasha made it about halfway up the mountain in terms of elevation; more than halfway in terms of distance. After hiking back down to the truck, Natasha had a nice 6+ hour rest before Mike and I made it back down. Being the kind soul she is, Natasha took excess gear down with her, and we took the rope from her. Unfortunately, she also walked off with the only sunscreen....
	Looking up above the groomed slopes - this is where Mike and I have yet to go. The entire route is visible from this point, if you know what to look for. There are also earlier/faster teams visible as the little black specks in the white snow. Fortunately for us, we can avoid those large looming cliffs, and stay on the nice easy snow; perhaps with a more insane team those cliffs would go, but I don't trust the rock enough to try. Anyone insane and suicidal enough to try the cliffs (and live), let the rest of us know how it is. Here is an edited version of this picture showing our route from the top of the ski slopes to the summit. The red line is the route, which is hidden in places by the topography. Notable (and named) features on the route are labelled. At the bottom, on the large open slope just above the ski slopes, we didn't go straight up, we switch-backed to make life easier, but roughly followed the indicated line on average.
	Mike and Natasha, just before Natasha turned around due to her injured hip. Note the excess gear (snow pickets, etc.) strapped to her pack so we don't need to haul it up.
	Myself at the top of the groomed slopes; note the happy expression and unburned face....
	Partway up the open face above the groomed slopes. I like the look of the cliffs and snow, with the sky behind. There are certainly some more exciting routes possible just off to the east of the standard route; a number of lines up the giant prow look possible. Something for next trip.
	Looking back down the open face above the ski slopes, with a tiny Mike in the middle skyline. The slope is fairly steep, so it is easiest to do long switchbacks up the snow face. The snow was perfect; stiff but not solid ice. The wind scouring of the snowfield was apparent, due to the large steps and channels, and the complete lack of loose snow.
	Farther up the open face, just below the Crater Rock traverse, you can look to the left and see this dramatic point of rock below you. There is a steep, knife-edge ridge from the rock to the Crater Rock slope, which could be a bit of fun; another option for another trip.
	Looking back down the open face, with a resting Mike. Mike, taking a hard-earned break from climbing, enjoys the spectacular view over the Pacific Northwest. Timberline, and the standard route, is approximately 30 degrees to the left of the edge of the photo. The rock point from the previous picture is off to the right. Another couple hundred feet of vertical, and we will be at the Hogsback and ready for the final push.
	"You see that sharp spire, with the knife-edge ridge dropping to the snowline? Yeah, we didn't go that way...." Depending on the rock, the spire in the background could make an awesome side trip. With this photo, Mike can prove he has been where the world gets steep, and only skill and strength keep you alive....
	I took this picture of a less-than-happy Mike from the Hogsback, looking down the bowl to Devil's Kitchen. The tracked paths lead around Crater Rock from the ski slopes to the low point of the Hogsback, using a bunch of switchbacks to climb the last bit of slope. This route also keeps climbers well above the fumaroles of Devil's Kitchen; less danger of suffocating from hydrogen sulfide this way. Devil's Kitchen was bone-dry, and just to the right and below of this picture. The rock is discolored in the characteristic manner of fumaroles; Mt Hood is most definitely not dead, just sleeping.
	Photo looking up the Hogsback and the final part of the hard climbing. The dots are other climbers; Mike and I took a short break to cool down and decide whether or not to proceed. We clipped packs to a snow picket, and did the summit push in a true "light-and-fast" style; I took both tools, crampons (wearing them), a water bottle, 2 Clif bars, and 2 packets of Vanilla Goo. After hauling pickets, screws, and a 60m rope up thousands of feet of vertical, Mike and I decided that there was no need for any of that gear, and left it all at the packs. At least one picket got used - it held the packs from possibly taking the fast way down while we were on top.
	Mike, climbing the Hogsback. The Hogsback is steep, and narrow, but has a nice set of steps carved into the snow by all the climbing parties. I was above, and looking back down the slope, so it is steeper than it appears in the photo. Note that we are moving fast and light - no packs! The cloud on the right side of the photo is steam from a fumarole in the snow-less hole below the Hogsback. The smell of H2S was everywhere on the Hogsback, until you climbed a couple hundred feet up. Once on the Hogsback, there is only about 1200' of vertical left, most of it right here.
	Me, on the Hogsback. Mike was just barely below me, and looking up at a steep angle. The broken skyline above and left are the rocks to the south and east of the Pearly Gates. The scorching due to a lack of sunscreen is definitely starting to be visible. Also note that while we did not use the rope, we did wear helmets and carry axes, just in case. An axe is definitely necessary for the end of the route.
	Mike, just below the top of the Hogsback. The Hogsback continues through the bergschrund (which was completely filled with snow), and ends at the rock in the middle of the Pearly Gates. There is/was a nice platform there, with enough space for five or more people to sit and relax before tackling the steep chutes of the Pearly Gates. In a year/time with less snow, the bergschrund could pose an issue, and would definitely warrant helmets and crampons; ropes might be useful or necessary depending on the 'schrund condition, but were completely irrelevant on this trip.
	Rock between the east and west chutes of the Pearly Gates. Notice the exquisite snow formations on the rock. This is directly above the rest platform at the top of the Hogsback.
	A tunnel through the ice and snow on the Pearly Gates rock. This was just off to the right of the platform, and quite pretty. We took the east (right) chute up the Pearly Gates (along with most of the teams). The snow was easy, but steep (>50 deg). Since I had two tools (mountain axe and third tool), I broke left just after entering the chute to do some free-solo ice/snow climbing on steeper terrain. Mike stayed in the more common route, and slogged his way up using the one axe and crampons. In poor conditions, these chutes could be a deathtrap of avalanches. But, the fall line out of these chutes goes to the side of the Hogsback, making a fall annoying, but not likely fatal for someone below. Watch for ice and rock kicked loose by higher climbers, and stick near the central rock to avoid most or all the falling debris.
	After getting out of the chute, there is a short (~150') snow slope to the summit ridge, and then you are done. This picture was taken by me, of Mike, from the summit looking south. Behind Mike both Mt Jefferson and the Three Sisters are visible. The summit ridge is quite long, and has little relief, although the true summit was easy to spot. Notice Mike's good form of being on self-belay with his axe.
	Picture of me, pointing to Rainier (middle of 3 visible) and Liberty Ice Cap. I am standing as close to the top as I dare; the summit has a large cornice to the north, which I did not want to break through.
	View looking back down the route from the summit. Notice the ski run buildings visible as black dots; the parking lot of Timberline is just visible to the right of the prominent snow-covered rock just left of center. Everything looks so small from 5000' up....
	Mike, on the very summit of Mt Hood (~11,200'). Visible in the background are Mt St Helens, Mt Rainier, and Mt Adams. This represents a view spanning well over 100 miles to the north. The weather was stunning, with almost perfectly clear skies (just a bit of haze).
	Mike and I on the summit, taken by another climber. The ridge in the background is a continuation of the summit ridge, and is not higher than the part we are standing on. This view is looking roughly northwest.
	Myself at the top of the Pearly Gates eastern chute. The chutes get steeper than what is shown in this picture, and formed the only part of the climb with anything approaching technical difficulty. For those with little experience on steep ice and snow, it is quite exciting. For those with more experience, it is a lot of fun. One team used a rope to help descend this portion; the leader built a (marginal in my opinion) anchor at the top of the chutes, and belayed the first climber down. The rest of the team descended, using the rope as a fixed line, with prussiks attached to their harness in case of a fall. In principle, the leader could then downclimb with more safety than a free-solo; he could be belayed off a lower anchor placed by the earlier climbers. I would have used a stronger top anchor (equalized pickets instead of a poor boot-axe belay) and intermediate protection (snow pickets would have held beautifully) placed by the first descending climber. The final climber is then far less likely to take a factor-2 fall onto the lower anchor if they blow the downclimb.
	View looking down the Hogsback just before we descended. The snow was getting warm and soft, and my crampons started balling terribly. Given the steep terrain, and the heat (I was melting/burning in the sun), downclimbing the Hogsback was exciting and miserable at the end. After resting at our packs (visible as the tiny dots just left of the fumarole) and drinking almost the last of the water, Mike and I started down. We removed our crampons, and proceeded to make good use of gravity on the descent. Most of the slopes above the ski slopes we glicaded, at one point getting close to 1000' in a continuous run. Below the ski slopes, the snow was too warm and the angle too low to slide, so we ran.
	The entire team, back at the truck, and ready to head for home. Notice the scorched look of Mike and I. Sunscreen should not be forgotten on sunny days. This cannot be emphasized enough. The climb took ~9 hours to reach the top, and about 3 hours to get down. Most of the time coming down was spent in the Pearly Gates or on the Hogsback; once we reached the open slopes, we dropped elevation fast by sledding. Despite the scorching and the hip injury, all concerned declared the trip good. Whether Mike or Natasha are willing to go again has not been determined....

Trip ReportfromMt Hood

March 2004

Questions? Comments? Corrections? Suggestions? Send them to paul@noam.com

Trip Report
from
Mt Hood