Back on Rainier... with skis!

After almost 18 months away, I finally got back to Ashford, Washington and Mount Rainier. I actually don’t start work for another week, but my girlfriend Tatum got hired as a guide this year as well, and she was starting training on April 19th so I came out early with her. Tatum had never climbed Mt. Rainier before and I had still never skied it from the summit, so we rolled into town the evening of the 17th, planning to get a quick lap in on the mountain before Tatum started work the next day and I went back to Bozeman to get the last of my stuff and move out here for the rest of the summer.

All winter long I’ve been hearing about the epic season up in the PNW, and expected to find Mt. Rainier absolutely caked in deep snow. The reality was slightly different, and April arrived warm and dry, with winds stripping much of the upper mountain. As we drove up the road to Paradise I was struck by the visible sastrugi high on the mountain and the very large crevasse wrapping around much of the summit cone near 13,500’ or so. I pondered the firm conditions and thought of my ragged ski edges which were definitely overdue for a tune.

We talked to some skiers in the parking lot who had come down the Fuhrer Finger and reported quality corn skiing and decent snow all the way from the summit, but they also reported the snowfield above the Finger to be heavily crevassed and difficult to navigate. With this beta in mind we decided the Gibraltar Chute would be a good option, as it had an easier looking entrance while still being the right aspect to corn up nicely.

Tatum on the Muir Snowfield at sunrise.

We left the parking lot around 3:45 am and were soon making our way up the Muir snowfield. Our intended route was the Ingraham Direct, the standard early season walk up that I was looking forward to guiding given its lack of objective hazard and general mellowness compared to the Disappointment Cleaver. However after speaking to another skier on the snowfield and my coworker Taylor at Camp Muir it became apparent that the ID wasn’t in. This left us with Gibraltar Ledges as our only good option above Camp Muir. This was the route by which the mountain was first climbed in 1870, and remains perhaps the most common winter route.

Tatum on Gib Ledges.

We stopped at Muir to eat and melt some snow for water then continued straight up the ridge toward Gibraltar rock. After skirting below a feature called the Beehive we found a flattish spot safe from rockfall and stopped to shed layers in the early morning sun. As I was reaching into my backpack my water bottle shifted from where I had set in on the snow in front of me and just like that it was gone, tumbling thousands of feet below us onto the Cowlitz Glacier. Well shit, major rookie move. Luckily Tatum still had about a liter of water and we had a stove in case we needed to melt more, so we continued up. We arrived at the base of Gibraltar Rock and began traversing left on the shady side of the feature. The snow here was already melted out into nasty looking penitentes, and was littered with little rocks that had come crashing down from above. I almost regretted bringing aluminum crampons. Luckily there was very little exposed dirt or rock, and soon we were across the ledges and into the top of our ski line. We were pleased to find the snow nice and firm still, so we’d have plenty of time to make it up to the summit.

Leading out from the top of Gibraltar Rock.

From the top of the chute around 12,500’ we roped up again and continued cramponing up the heavily-crevassed upper mountain. The snow here was wind hammered and unlikely to soften but it was still edgeable and not very steep. The higher we climbed the more broken and hollow the glacier became. At one point I noticed another team of skiers descending to my right (East) and started heading in their direction, paralleling a large crevasse. As we got closer I saw that they were actually belaying one person down into the crack to climb back up the other side. Hoping for a cleaner, more efficient option we reversed course and found a snow bridge further to the west. It looked reasonably solid, but longer than our rope interval, so we had to pound a picket, stretch out the rope then belay each other across. It took a bit of time but at least we were able to continue upward.

This still left the large crack at 13,500’ to contend with. Since we’d gone left around the previous jumble I elected to continue to the west and hopefully end run the crack on that side. We began a long, gently rising traverse on thankfully more solid snow. As we gradually gained elevation the wind increased exponentially, and we were soon bundled up, with our heads down braced against the gust as we plodded on. We had decided on a loose turn around time of noon, so when that time rolled around we stopped briefly to discuss. All the traversing had cost us a lot of time, and we were still at least 500’ from Columbia Crest. Rationing water and probably not eating enough in general was taking it's toll on me as well. However, our circuitous route had actually brought us closer to one of Rainier’s lower summits, Point Success, so we compromised in the name of timeliness and safety and quickly ascended the last few feet to the lower high point. The ethics of what counts as a “summit” on Rainier are a little fuzzy, but I’d say it counted as Tatum’s first and my eleventh time to the top of the tallest Cascade volcano.

Making my way down the upper mountain.

We spent less than five minutes transitioning and were soon retracing our route down on skis. Normally I’d be a little annoyed by such a traversing ski descent but given the snow conditions I really didn’t care, the money skiing would be much lower.

Sure enough, as we neared the top of the Gibraltar Chute conditions improved substantially, and we were soon skiing steep, ripe corn all the way down to the Muir Snowfield.

Tatum navigating some crevassed terrain.

The last few hundred feet of glaciated skiing was quite hollow feeling and a climber on foot would have surely fallen in, but I was able to float over the sagging snow bridges with ease on my skis. We ripped big, lazy GS turns down onto the snowfield, happy that the timing worked out for some great conditions and relieved to be out from under the seracs that tower over the skier’s right side of the chute. From there, another 4500’ of mellow skiing on the Muir snowfield brought us back to the car at Paradise, where we enjoyed a victory-margarita and admired the 9000’ of tracks we had just laid on Washington’s highest peak. Pretty great way to start my season in the PNW, I can’t wait for more skiing on Rainier this spring and summer!

Me at the entrance to the Gibraltar Chute.

Tatum styling one of the more exposed pitches.

This photo makes the overhead hazard appear much worse than it really was, but it definitely increased the spice-factor.