[TR] Mt. Adams - MGH (Mazama Glacier Headwall / Sunrise Camp) 10/14/2011

[B Deleted_Beck]

Trip: Mt. Adams - MGH (Mazama Glacier Headwall / Sunrise Camp) - Didn't even get on the route, turned around by a combination of weather and inadequate shelter.

 

Date: 10/14/2011

 

Trip Report:

I'll add pics when I get them.

 

Our third planned trip up the MGH, twice before having to cancel for weather, we watched the weather very closely for the last two weeks. The reports coming back were good- chance of light snow, calm winds, cold temps, 50% clear skies... so we headed up Friday, 14th of October 2011..

 

Dan and I live in Saint Helens, John lives in bend, so we met up in Hood River at 10:30 yesterday morning. We transferred John's shit into Dan's Blazer, paid our toll, and headed north across the bridge into enemy territory.

 

A quick stop in Trout Lake for a Wilderness Pass, we got there just as the Rangers were closing down. They warned us of potentially shitty weather, and informed us that we'd need to have our vehicle back down Bird Creek rd before Sunday afternoon, when the gate was to be closed for the rest of the year... this was, indeed, our last chance at an MGH send from the Yakima side.

 

We got to the upper trailhead (the one at the top of the spur where the road swings sharp right down the spur- not sure what the head is called) at around one 1:30, with 5 hours of light left. Steel skies, 1/4 mile visibility, and damp. We shed our cotton, donned our polyester, re-calibrated our Suuntos, and headed up the climber's trail to the right at 5,700' around 2pm. I predicted we'd be finishing the leg in the dark, but that we'd make it fine.

 

The maintained mile of the trail was easy following. John was definitely the strongest of the three of us, and took lead early on. We came on patchy snow from about 5,800', but there were footprints leading back to the dirt trail most of the way up, and constant snow from about 6,100 up to the viewpoint at 6,500. From there, the footprints ended, and we were on our own for route-finding along the not-very established climber's trail to Sunrise camp.

 

Routefinding became a bit of an issue from there on, costing us some small time. John and I are both experienced land navigators, and despite the now 1/8th mile visibility and increasing rain, we were able to pick our way through the scree piles.. but we stopped frequently for bearing. We did make one minor navigational error, still having trouble with our 1:64,000 perspective map (very little landform detail and elev contours at 200' intervals), which caused us to believe we were farther north than we were... which caused us to climb the first big spur rather than circumnavigate it. HOWEVER, that actually put us, in my opinion, in much better approach position for the shove up under Sunrise- and the next attempt at MGH, I will take this same route. Why walk all the way around the bottom of the spur just to have to hike all that long way up the upper end of the draw? I'd way rather have a short steep climb than a long, low-angle hike. Anyway....

 

By the time we got to the top of the spur, the wind was starting to pick up. We'd been getting gusts in the 15mph range since leaving the treeline, but at the top of our traverse, we got smacked with a few 30+ gusts ripping through the saddle above. Rain was increasing, and I was getting damp... should have put my gortex on long before, dammit. As we approached the saddle near the lake at 7,650', the clouds opened up and we could see, for the first time, the route up the Sunrise. Dan groaned.

 

We continued on for about another 400' of of gain when John indicated to me that he wasn't feeling good about our situation. He'd seemed very cool with everything until that point, so it was sort of a shock to me. Dan hadn't said much of anything, because Dan is generally just too tired to speak when we climb... so no change there... Still shy of our objective, and in a relatively flat spot on decently cushy snow, I called for camp. We were extremely wind-exposed, but I didn't think it was going to get any better higher up- and to tell you the truth, I was getting soaking ass wet and my hip hurt and I was coming down with a cold, I really wanted to get into my bag. So we dropped packs where we stood, and with about 20 minutes of light left and visibility coming in to around 50 feet, we busted out shelters.

 

And that's when the trip started to fall apart. As we began to make camp, it became slowly evident to me why John seemed suddenly worried, and that neither of my partners were doing well at all. The wind was now screaming through our shelf, and John's "shelter" turned out to be a backpacking tarp. Dan was moving extremely slowly with frozen fingers, so I just sat with my back to the wind holding my end of our ultra-light two-man tent while he fumbled and cursed. I had nothing to do but hold things and watch, since I'd never set up Dan's superlight tent.. so between occasionally tying this, or staking that, I was watching John struggle with his tarp. He looked like a test model in a wind-tunnel... by the flapping and him stumbling all over the place, I'd estimate the winds hitting him at a good solid 40 with gusts to 50. I staked in the part of the tent I'd been holding, and walked over to John. The first conversation went something like this:

 

"How's it goin', Dawg?" I screamed over the wind and rain pelting our shells.

"Um... I'm not sure, man. (Chuckle)."

"You gonna get it?"

"Uh.. dude... Yea, I think so."

"Ok, good. I'll be over here."

 

I went back to our tent, where Daniel had finally gotten the poles in and the canopy up. I helped lash the fly down and was about to start gathering rocks to pile on for anchoring. I looked back at John... his shelter was no longer strung up. I thought it'd blown off the mountain, and walked over. When I got close enough, I could see that he had it all balled up and was tucked over it, probably trying to keep it from ripping out of his arms.

 

"What do you think, Bro?"

"I think I need to go down, man," John said. "I don't want to bust your attempt, though, so I'll just go alone."

"No way, man. You're not going down alone in this shit. We'll all go down together."

 

I went back to Dan, who had basically just put on the finishing touches and was dragging his pack toward the vestibule... "Pack it up, we're descending." And if looks could kill, I'd be splattered all over the side of the mountain right now.

 

My goal was basically just to get low enough to get out of the wind, get John's shelter up, and figure out the rest in the morning. Visibility was 50' and shrinking, the wind was trying to push us down the mountain, and since my bite valve had frozen, I figured this freezing fucking rain would turn into literal freezing rain soon, and really wasn't wanting to be slowly transmogrified into an extremely handsome popsicle on the side of Mount Adams. So we began the descent by following the fall line off the shelf and down into the draw that leads to Hellroaring Meadow. But as we followed the fall line, I picked up our tracks from the spur traverse, and opted to just go ahead and backtrack. We just needed to ascend about 100' to get back to the saddle we crossed at, and then we could very easily follow our own tracks back to the established climbers trail, so long as the rain stayed rain.

 

So that's exactly what we did. I led for about half the descent until, in a moment of need to expel some angst over our lame descent, I sprinted down a few hundred feet, and tired myself out. John led the rest of the way down from there.

 

Back to to the treeline at around 6,500..... NO WIND. The thought occurred to me there that we should make camp, and push for Sunrise in the morning... we were provisioned for three days on the mountain (with a planned two)- but then I remembered that the Bird Creek gate would be CLOSING FOR THE YEAR Sunday mid-day, and abandonded my last little hope that we might actually, finally conquer the elusive MGH. I didn't even mention it, and my partners seemed perfectly content to be heading back to the car.

 

Back to the car around 8:30, we stripped off our soaked-through shells (all three of us had a soft AND hard shell layer on over base, and all three of us were soaked to the skin- it was seriously wet up there), put on delicious cotton, warmed the car, one of us smoked a bowl, and we proceeded down and away from my last chance at this damned route for the year.

 

As I sit here at my desk, coughing and sniffing and feeling achy and weak, I'm almost glad we did descend last night... then I look out the window at BRIGHT BLUE SKIES without a cloud in sight, and I'm just plain pissed.

 

LAME.

 

Gear Notes:

Well... for us, it was crampons and headlamps. But MGH, depending on the time of the year, can require between a handful of pickets, an ice axe, and a 30m rope, to a 60m rope, ice screws, and technical ice tools. See other TRs and route over-views for more details.

 

Approach Notes:

Roads are bumpy, but doable in any vehicle remotely designed for off-road travel. Ground clearance is the biggest issue, but I can imagine that 4x4 would become necessary in some weather.

 

Route-finding to Sunrise is sort of sketchy if you lose the trail, but IS pretty intuitive if you have a map and compass. Just follow the high line all the way up and W to NW until you get to the mountain proper. Then the route just meanders generally NW until you reach the saddle/shelf between the two bigger spurs between the approach spur and Sunrise. I recommend climbing the first, bigger spur- you'll find a decent saddle to shoot for, climb it, and then traverse the backside up to the shelf. You'll know you're there by the glacier lake in the slight depression at the head of the shelf. If visibility allows, you'll see three small popup buttes- camp is in the col between the farther away butte and the mountain.

[wayne]

Dang, what a story! Know-> you made the right call, for sure. I hope/expect round 4 to go much better.

[Dan_Miller]

You perservered and did your best, little more you can ask of yourselves. It's a great route in decent conditions. The beauty of that climb as you know only too well at this point is it will still be there. It's up to you now to plan for and head up there again. As Wayne wisely said you decidedly made the correct call, the weather being what it was. You get gold stars for rigorous attitudes! That's exactly what'll get you up the route at some future point.

Thanks for the info concerning the closure of the road, I wasn't aware of the fact they regularly do that in the autumn.

[B Deleted_Beck]

pics.. such as they are. not the most impressive trip album i've ever compiled. wasn't much pic taking occurring, once the weather started getting bad

 

john getting ready at the car

dan getting ready at the car

on an area we dubbed "15-minute ledge," dan putting on his gortex.. me peeing, not wanting to drop pack to put on mine (stupid)

me and dan coming up the couloir above "15 minute ledge"

dan smiling?? holy bleep.. not sure when this was, the orientation doesn't fit anywhere in my memory bank

dan bringing up the rear on the flip side of the ridge we traversed to gain the lake ledge

and this would be the one and only photo taken after the weather really turned to shit... many hours later, my el baño

[Alex]

from your description the writing was clearly on the wall that you guys were not ready for those conditions for any length of time, so sounds like you made the right call turning around.

 

looking at the weather today, yes it's nice. hindsight is always 20/20. dont regret a good decision. this is all supposed to be fun!