rstreicher

I am planning to climb Mt. Adams on August 7th or 8th, 2009 and would like to link up with one or more folks to climb with (for safety reasons). If anyone out there is looking for someone to climb Adams with, or could accommodate an additional person in their party, could you please send me an email and let me know? I've been up Adams twice before, so I'm fairly familiar with the territory and the demands of the climb. Thanks. Here's my email: bob.streicher@yahoo.com

Anyone out there want to climb Mt. Hood with me this upcoming Saturday? I'd be going the Timberline --> Crater Rock --> hogsback --> etc. route. I planned to go alone originally, but going with someone or some group would be more better. I would like to leave Timberline Lodge around 12:00am Saturday, doing the round-trip in one push (i.e., not camping out). So, if this sounds good to you, just reply back.

On this trip I packed in enough of my own water that I didn't need to melt water. However, back in 2002 one of the guys I climbed with ran out of water and used glacier snow for his water. It was kind of funny the way it happened; he brought a special pack that was built to hold water (complete with drinking tube draped over his shoulder for easy access), and when he was at a rest stop along the route, he was leaning back against a rock and without realizing it he squeezed out all the water out of his bag onto the ground. He was pretty upset with himself and didn't see the humor in it, like I did!! Good thing there was potable snow water handy. And a good thing that it was warm enough to melt the snow he stuffed into some of my empty water bottles, because none of us had a way to melt it otherwise.

Trip: Mt. Adams - South Spur Route Date: 8/13/2008 Trip Report: First off: if you hadn't been informed yet, the road to Coldwater Springs Campground has been re-opened, now that the fire of the same name was extinguished, and climbers are able to have their way with the mountain again along Trail 183. On Wednesday evening (8/13) I drove up there after work and after registering at the forest service ranger station in Trout Lake, traveled the remaining 15 miles or so to the campground. One thing I noticed about the forest service road leading up to the campground is that it's in way better condition now than when I climbed Adams in 2002. Back then only a 4 wheeler with high ground clearance could have made it up; now I think just about anything with at least 6 inches of ground clearance could get there. Once there I got everything ready for the climb, spread out my sleeping bag in the back of my pickup, and planned to sleep until 3:00 am and start up the dusty trail. The night was warm and beautiful with a gibbous moon. Even though I was comfortable and tired from a long day at work, I guess I was too excited about doing the climb to fall asleep. So at 2:00 am I decided to give up trying and I grabbed my pack and poles and headed out. About the same time that I started out, another couple - Mark and Lauren - also embarked on their trip up. They were a little ahead of me at first, and we played leapfrog throughout the day up to the top - sometimes travelling as a threesome (especially when we needed three headlamps and 6 eyes to figure out where in the darkness the next piling marker was). Mark & Lauren, if you're reading this, it was nice to meet you and I wish you well in the Hood-to-Coast next weekend. Now, about that darkness. That was one of the coolest (almost surreal) experiences I've ever had. First off, even though it was early-early morning, the temperature was warm enough to wear shorts and t-shirt (at least up to around the 8,000 foot level). The moon was just starting to set, and as it got closer to the horizon it became more and more orange. The night sky was filled with stars, and I saw several shooting stars, too. Being able to see the mountain in the light of the moon with the stars as a backdrop was for me the best part of the journey. Once I got to lunch counter, which is a vast plateau at around 9,100 feet, I removed a handful of items from my pack to lighten the load for the next part of the climb. It was around 9:00 am by this point (I know, what a slow-poke). For those of you who've climbed this route before, you know what lies ahead: several hours of some of the hardest work your body's ever known. One long continuous slope that rises about 2,000 vertical feet in a mix of snow, loose rock, and diminishing oxygen. And that's just to get to Piker's Peak (aka, False Summit). It's a grind and ya gotta want it bad! Once on top of Piker's Peak, there's a flat expanse with one of the most spectacular views around. There's of course the awesome views of Mt. Hood (a view which is available throughout the day) and St. Helens (which is viewable periodically along the route). What is most cool though are the glaciers that cover the flat area, the cornices that are visible on the east side of the mountain, and of course the top of the mountain which you can finally view. For me, this was the payoff for all the hard work getting up the slope to Piker's Peak - and the most unique and picturesque part of the whole mountain. The next little task was to walk up the dry slope about 1,000 vertical feet (guessing here) to the top of the mountain. I make it sound easy, but at that elevation I was finding it hard to climb up more than a handful of steps before needing to stop and catch my breath. The top offers the reward of finally getting to see Mt. Rainier directly to the north, as well as a good view of the Goat Rocks Wilderness Area to the northeast. After taking several pictures and spending about half an hour up there, I started heading down. After 12 hours of nothing but going up, what a treat it was to go down for a change! And being able to glissade was not only fun, I'm certain in terms of efficiency it saved me at least an hour compared to walking down. After locating my stashed goods, with the help of my trusty Garmin GPS, I ventured down the rest of the way back to the campground. All told it was a great day and I got to meet several people along the way. One thing of note - all along the way up from lunch counter, there were a continuous flow of thousands and thousand of butterflies making their way from east to west. I'm not sure what species they were or what they were doing so high up, but it was an amazing sight and a real treat. Lessons learned: - make yourself drink water regularly, even if you don't think it's necessary. I thought I was drinking enough, but by the time I got back I had a killer sore throat and could hardly swallow. I'm fairly certain it was due to being a bit dehydrated. - take water-resistant pants if you plan on glissading. I brought a ground pad to slide on, which didn't work very well, causing the snow to pile up on top of the pad. By the time I was done sliding down, my cotton shorts were soaked from the melted snow. Good thing it was warm. - take crampons. I didn't take them and even though the snow was soft enough that it wasn't absolutely required for safety reasons, I had to proceed more cautiously (and slowly) to make sure I had good footing with each step. Crampons would have helped me ascend faster. - take bottled oxygen (just kidding) Here's the link to the pictures I took that day: Mt. Adams Climb Pix 2008 Thanks for reading. Happy trails!

First off: if you hadn't been informed yet, the road to Coldwater Springs Campground has been re-opened, now that the fire of the same name was extinguished, and climbers are able to have their way with the mountain again along Trail 183. On Wednesday evening (8/13) I drove up there after work and after registering at the forest service ranger station in Trout Lake, traveled the remaining 15 miles or so to the campground. One thing I noticed about the forest service road leading up to the campground is that it's in way better condition now than when I climbed Adams in 2002. Back then only a 4 wheeler with high ground clearance could have made it up; now I think just about anything with at least 6 inches of ground clearance could get there. Once there I got everything ready for the climb, spread out my sleeping bag in the back of my pickup, and planned to sleep until 3:00 am and start up the dusty trail. The night was warm and beautiful with a gibbous moon. Even though I was comfortable and tired from a long day at work, I guess I was too excited about doing the climb to fall asleep. So at 2:00 am I decided to give up trying and I grabbed my pack and poles and headed out. About the same time that I started out, another couple - Mark and Lauren - also embarked on their trip up. They were a little ahead of me at first, and we played leapfrog throughout the day up to the top - sometimes travelling as a threesome (especially when we needed three headlamps and 6 eyes to figure out where in the darkness the next piling marker was). Mark & Lauren, if you're reading this, it was nice to meet you and I wish you well in the Hood-to-Coast next weekend. Now, about that darkness. That was one of the coolest (almost surreal) experiences I've ever had. First off, even though it was early-early morning, the temperature was warm enough to wear shorts and t-shirt (at least up to around the 8,000 foot level). The moon was just starting to set, and as it got closer to the horizon it became more and more orange. The night sky was filled with stars, and I saw several shooting stars, too. Being able to see the mountain in the light of the moon with the stars as a backdrop was for me the best part of the journey. Once I got to lunch counter, which is a vast plateau at around 9,100 feet, I removed a handful of items from my pack to lighten the load for the next part of the climb. It was around 9:00 am by this point (I know, what a slow-poke). For those of you who've climbed this route before, you know what lies ahead: several hours of some of the hardest work your body's ever known. One long continuous slope that rises about 2,000 vertical feet in a mix of snow, loose rock, and diminishing oxygen. And that's just to get to Piker's Peak (aka, False Summit). It's a grind and ya gotta want it bad! Once on top of Piker's Peak, there's a flat expanse with one of the most spectacular views around. There's of course the awesome views of Mt. Hood (a view which is available throughout the day) and St. Helens (which is viewable periodically along the route). What is most cool though are the glaciers that cover the flat area, the cornices that are visible on the east side of the mountain, and of course the top of the mountain which you can finally view. For me, this was the payoff for all the hard work getting up the slope to Piker's Peak - and the most unique and picturesque part of the whole mountain. The next little task was to walk up the dry slope about 1,000 vertical feet (guessing here) to the top of the mountain. I make it sound easy, but at that elevation I was finding it hard to climb up more than a handful of steps before needing to stop and catch my breath. The top offers the reward of finally getting to see Mt. Rainier directly to the north, as well as a good view of the Goat Rocks Wilderness Area to the northeast. After taking several pictures and spending about half an hour up there, I started heading down. After 12 hours of nothing but going up, what a treat it was to go down for a change! And being able to glissade was not only fun, I'm certain in terms of efficiency it saved me at least an hour compared to walking down. After locating my stashed goods, with the help of my trusty Garmin GPS, I ventured down the rest of the way back to the campground. All told it was a great day and I got to meet several people along the way. One thing of note - all along the way up from lunch counter, there were a continuous flow of thousands and thousand of butterflies making their way from east to west. I'm not sure what species they were or what they were doing so high up, but it was an amazing sight and a real treat. Lessons learned: - make yourself drink water regularly, even if you don't think it's necessary. I thought I was drinking enough, but by the time I got back I had a killer sore throat and could hardly swallow. I'm fairly certain it was due to being a bit dehydrated. - take water-resistant pants if you plan on glissading. I brought a ground pad to slide on, which didn't work very well, causing the snow to pile up on top of the pad. By the time I was done sliding down, my cotton shorts were soaked from the melted snow. Good thing it was warm. - take crampons. I didn't take them and even though the snow was soft enough that it wasn't absolutely required for safety reasons, I had to proceed more cautiously (and slowly) to make sure I had good footing with each step. Crampons would have helped me ascend faster. - take bottled oxygen (just kidding) Here's the link to the pictures I took that day: Mt. Adams Climb Pix 2008 Thanks for reading. Happy trails!

Good Lord - it's a wonder you lived to tell that story! You're right about the time we went up; it was a total whiteout near the top with what must have been 50 MPH winds. My biggest regret on that trip was not having polarized sunglasses. I could barely see for about 2 days afterwards because of snow blindness. Thanks for turning me on to this crazy sport, and thanks for the note.

I'll check that out sometime. My next trip is up Adams within the next few weeks. Have fun on mid-sis.

I agree that the Monitor Ridge route doesn't require crampons and an ice axe. Hiking poles are definitely an asset. In fact, I think I'll be taking poles along on every hike and climb in the future. For anyone taking the route I took up through Worm Flows, take crampons, helmet, ice axe and rope & harness. The upper snow field/glacier is steep and could be icy even in summer, given the right conditions. I don't know if there are any crevasses under that snow, but I did see one crevasse much higher up that I definitely wouldn't want to fall into unroped. - happy trials

Trip: St Helens - Marble Mountain Snow Park --> Trail #244 Date: 7/24/2008 Trip Report: My friend and I left the Marble Mountain Snow Park parking lot around 6:30 am on Thursday (7/24) and headed up trail #244 into the Worm Flows area toward the summit. We hadn't realized that two days earlier Climbers Bivouac opened up, or else we might have taken that route instead. As it turned out, I think we lucked out by not knowing, because we were among only a handful of climbers on that route and had that portion of the mountain practically to ourselves the whole way up. The weather was pefect for a climb on Thursday. Sunny skies and temperatures that kept us comfortable in light t-shirts pretty much the entire time. Wind was at a minimum. The route we took put us about two miles east of Monitor Ridge and it was fairly well established so we didn't have too much trouble staying on course. Of the people we did encounter along the way, they were on their way down already - making the decision not to attempt the higher snow fields/glaciers given the equipment they had & didn't have. More specifically, some were in hiking shoes (you know, the glorified tennis shoes with a little more tread than normal), and all without ice picks or crampons. We had proper hiking boots and ice axes, which was the minimum equipment to attempt those upper snow fields (in hindsight, a rope & harness would have been even wiser). We were very careful and took our time going up that little stretch of snow. I led the way and kick-stepped footholds for my climbing partner to walk up. I don't think it would be possible to kick-step very effectively with those hiking shoes I mentioned above. Those guys who turned around made a very smart choice. It was with great relief once we arrived on dry land again. Speaking of dry land, the #244 route that we took is a much different type of terrain than Monitor Ridge. Where Monitor Ridge is 75% climbing up through rock fields and 25% soft stuff, our route was probably 70% soft and 30% hard. No wonder it's not the more popular summer route. That soft stuff gets old fast. At about 90% to the top, we crossed over one final snow field to merge with Monitor Ridge, then just a short jaunt to the top. We decided to take the Monitor Ridge way down, wanting to avoid going down the steep snow field. On a side-note: for those who are new to climbing, keep in mind that the top of the mountain is the half-way point, not the finish line. Going down the mountain (any mountain) involves a lot of hard work, too - so be prepared! We encountered one person at the top who was pretty well spent and who had I'm sure a very exhausting downhill journey. On our way down Monitor Ridge, there were a few minor snow fields to walk down. The snow was pretty soft and the descent down them was relatively easy and uneventful. Except for one spot that was nearly at the bottom of the ridge. I was going down a small snow field, with about 100 yards of snow below me and a not-too-steep pitch. By this time, I had the whole snow tromping thing down pretty well, so I thought. I let my confidence get the better of me, deciding that I only needed to have my trusty hiking poles in hand. Well, I slipped and fell on my butt, sliding about 200 feet into a rock pile below. I wasn't injured, thankfully, but I learned a valuable lesson. I should have exchanged my poles for my ice axe and to be ready to self-arrest. The slope wasn't very steep, but within two seconds there was no stopping me. I wasn't going all that fast when I hit the rocks, but I could have twisted an ankle or even broken something. Luckily, I managed to emerge with only a bruise on my ass and a lesson in gravity. Finally, we had to cross over from the trail we were on, which was headed to the Climbers Bivouac parking lot, back east to get to the Marble Mountain parking lot where we started. We picked up Trail #216 and followed it about 3 miles to where it merged once again with #244. Thanks for reading (assuming you didn't fall asleep by now). Here's a link to some of the pictures I took: http://www.flickr.com/photos/moontan2008

Are you able to postpone it? I'm looking to find someone to go with within the next few weeks - possibly early August - so I don't have to tell my wife I'm going alone. That, plus it's not too smart to climb any mountain alone if you think about it...twisted ankle, crevasse, flying monkeys.

I'm interested to know if you ended up going and how the access to climbers bivouac was - if that's the route you took. Please let me know if you get a chance. Thanks.