All of this focus on Mt. Sinai necessitates a brief interlude into a mountain adventure which sadly we are prohibited from pursuing at present…

It was about 10:00 pm on a Spring day in 2017 when I climbed into a car with a good friend in Tacoma, WA and drove to the Mt. St. Helens trailhead.

Mt. St. Helens is not a particularly tall mountain (just over 8,000 feet), but it is perhaps the most famous mountain in the continental United States due to the fact that before 1980 it was 9,677 feet high. Most people recognize Mt. St. Helens because of the worldwide news it created when it erupted in 1980, blew up 1,300 feet of its height (even more horizontal feet), and killed 57 people.

For its fame, difficulty, early spring glaciers, and stunning beauty, we forfeited a night’s sleep and found ourselves at the trailhead sometime after midnight. There are few things as exciting as lacing up your hiking boots, strapping on gaiters, tying on the ice axe, triple checking your crampons, sunglasses, sunscreen, and food items, and then setting out towards a trailhead in a night so dark you bump into your partner because you had your headlamp off. There are then few things less exciting than stumbling around other hikers’ campsites about 50 feet from your own car trying to find the actual trailhead at 1:00 in the morning.

Climbing Mt. St. Helens is a highly sought after adventure. For this reason the national park service has a lottery system for securing a 24-hour permit to climb the mountain. The lottery process takes place as early as January – March with awards announced in the spring. If you want to climb Mt. St. Helens on a weekend in late summer, you may wait through 3-4 years of lotteries before you secure such a time. If you choose a Thursday in winter snow conditions when the probability of success is low and the gear required is heavy, you can probably win the lottery on your first attempt. If you travel 2,500 miles to the trailhead and it’s a blizzard (or worse, a downpour) with no letup in the forecast, you either go for it or wait until the next lottery season.

We made great time (after finding the trail) and were motivated to move quickly lest any disgruntled campers come after us for stumbling over their tents at 1:00 in the morning. The early trail is interspersed with subsidiary trails used by skiers and snowmobiles. The lower elevations of the mountain are a designated “snow play area.” From the weather report we knew our best shot at success was to summit by about 10:00 am. Afterwards, it was less certain we could safely make the summit and return to the car. We had early rain, some snow (at times heavy) but kept making progress. Crampons went on within the first few miles and they didn’t come off until we were glissading.

Mt. St. Helens is an excellent mountain for prospective mountaineers who want to learn winter hiking and the use of an ice axe, crampons, layering, etc. You will enjoy 30 degree or greater slopes but none with trees or drop offs below them, providing plenty of runway if you do slip. You will see crevasses and false summits all while honing route finding skills and enjoying views that will leave you speechless. Just be sure you make it to the summit as almost making it means you climbed “on” Mt. St. Helens but does not mean you “climbed Mt. St. Helens.” (Very important distinction.)

As the sky began brightening with the dawn, it became apparent that it was quite overcast and we would be experiencing rain and/or show unless the storm moved on. The storm did not move on. Not to worry, however, we learned an obvious lesson in hindsight. There are two ways to overcome weather obstacles on great mountains: 1) the storm moves on; or 2) you move on from the storm. Unbeknownst to us, we chose the latter and shortly after dawn we ascended above the clouds and into a perfectly clear sky. We could see Mt. Adams to our right and Mt. Hood more or less behind us with a false summit of St. Helens directly in front of us. All of the mountains were sticking out of a thick cloud layer that gave the impression we were much higher from sea level than we actually were.

When climbing glaciers and snow covered mountains, good coordination and climbing methods with your partner are a must. Mt. St. Helens provides a good opportunity to observe mistakes and learn from them. The picture below was from one of the steeper parts of the climb. While taking this photo I thought to myself and then said out loud, ”If you fall, neither of us reaches the summit, do we?” From then on we kept horizontal distance between us so that a fall would only keep one person from a summit photo.

The final trek to the summit was fantastic. Amazing views all around and the anticipation of coming up to the summit and seeing into the volcanic crater is an excellent motivational drive different from the experience in other mountains. When we came up to the top the wind picked up. There were cornices (overhangs of snow without rock underneath… except for many hundreds of feet below) that kept us from getting right up to the rim. We followed the rim for some time and were able to see into the crater at a few points. After a few summit photos and high-fiving each other for our achievement we were able to begin the most fun part of the trek – glissading.

Glissading is a fancy word for a rather rudimentary activity: Sitting on one’s backside on a steep snowy glacier and letting gravity take over. Ideally the ice axe is used to steer and slow one’s descent but uncontrolled descents are also at times successful. The important technical element of the glissade is that crampons are removed prior to sitting down. Many people believe the crampons will slow them down and help arrest an uncontrolled fall so they leave them on and raise their feet into the air until they are too tired or moving too quickly to keep them up. What happens afterwards is probably best explained by analogy. As a child, were you ever riding a bicycle and then stuck your foot or a stick into the spokes of the wheel? If not, you missed out. But perhaps now you can imagine the result? A significant percentage of mountain injuries come from the cartwheeling effects of putting crampons from your feet into the snow while moving at speed downhill. I have not seen the x-rays or lacerations to the body but I understand they can be blog-worthy.

With a few breaks to trek over flatter areas we likely covered two miles glissading off and on. As we did it more and more we were comfortable going faster and faster. By the end certain parts of our bodies were numb so if we ripped our pants on the snow and ice it was ok, we didnt feel like it had happened. If you don’t feel it, is it really true?

We made quick time down the mountain in a blazing sun that left some sunburn and arrived back at the car not long after 2:00 pm. My friend and I made it back to Tacoma where we met for pizza with my beautiful dear wife and then went our separate ways. I was, of course, kind enough to take my wife for a movie date after the adventure; I just did not watch any of the movie and she was kind enough to keep me from snoring too loudly.

My favorite place to view God’s creation is from the top of a mountain. The time and effort it takes to get there, the heights, and the views remind me like no other places on earth of my size in comparison to what God made. “What is man that you are mindful of him and the son of man that you care for him?” (Psalm 8:4). It is a thing too wonderful to comprehend that the God of glory who holds all the nations of the world as a drop in a bucket would not merely visit man, but take created man’s nature and die for the creatures He made so that we might have everlasting life. For me, climbing mountains is a time like no other to meditate on the rich truths of our glorious Lord.

A couple more explosions and Mt. St. Helens will be reduced to a bike trail. Get in while it’s still a mountain!

.

.