Mount Hood Summit
June 2, 2008
My friend flew out from Washington D.C. for a week of outdoor recreation. Climbing Hood was high on the agenda. We got a few hours of sleep Sunday evening and headed up to Timberline in the wee hours of the morning when anyone with any sense was still in the bed. Driving up that dark and winding road gave us a spooky feeling and we did not talk about the clouds and drizzle. The parking lot at Timberline was windy and cold. We brought our gear into the shelter of the Wy’East entrance to get ready, filled out the paperwork and headed up the climber trail hoping for the best.
The snow surface was hard and rough. We tried to find the smoothest parts where the going was easiest. Snow Cats were at work with bright headlamps. Our own headlamps illuminated the patch of snow directly ahead leaving us both in our own little world. We did not speak and stayed in our own thoughts, hinged crampons clinking away step by step.
Patches of starry sky appeared, lifting our spirits. Then early morning light revealed the mountain in dim profile. The steep part below Crater Rock was taxing. With just enough daylight to see, the steep snowy surface seemed unreal and the combination of altitude and disorientation made us feel dizzy. My friend lagged behind and I waited for him at Crater Rock until my hands were numb with the cold. He arrived, saw the final climb to the summit and said he wasn’t up for it. I assured him it wasn’t as hard as it looked. I was right although I really didn’t know it at the time and was just playing the hard man.
The Hogback did not go up to the Pearly Gates, so we took the Old Chute. Conditions were good and previous boot tracks formed a virtual staircase. But as I approached the top, clouds moved in. The last bit went up through a gully to exit on the summit ridge. The top was only a short distance away. I had to crouch there to keep from being blown off.
The wind was ferocious, so I returned to the gully to wait for my friend, sitting on a small perch in relative comfort. Visibility was poor, but I could hear him coming, the thrust of the ice axe and the clink of the crampons. Then I saw him down below through rips in the clouds. We waved. I yelled encouragement whenever the wind died down
“How far to the summit?“ He asked.
“It’s right over there.” I said, but he didn’t seem to believe me. I’d been telling him the whole way up how close and easy it was. But just a short easy stroll took him to the top where he asked:
“This is it?”
By this time the clouds had cleared and we could see the whole mountain below, but he still couldn’t believe it. As we started down he said:
“Fred, I hope you don’t think any less of me for this, but I got pretty teary eyed back there.”
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Summit
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My friend wanted to take some pictures so he had me go back down the gully and reenact the ascent. By this time I was pretty cold and just wanted to go down, but it was such a special day for him I could not refuse.
Gully Climb
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Top of Gully
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Going down.
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Crater Rock
