Boston and Mt. Baker Fail

Hey hey everyone, how are we all?  I myself am well having just returned from a quick trip to Boston to visit family and friends, and to pick up the road bike that I'll be using for the ride in August.  I figured I might as well train for the summer on the same bike so we'll be good and familiar with each other when the big day comes.  While in Boston I attended a little fundraising party that my teammates Eric and Renee had put together at Mija Cantina in Faneuil Hall.  We brought in over a thousand dollars in donations and raffle sales, so a big thank you to all the guests and donors and to Mija, and a special shout out to our friends at Northeast Mountaineering for their generous prize donation.  I'd also like to thank Ray and Sons Cycle in Maynard Massachusetts for helping me out with some repairs.  Back at home in Vancouver now, and looking forward to piecing the bike back together and going for some rides!

Endless awesomeness of North Cascades National Park, WA.  On the way to Boston.  

Home sweet home, Boston on approach to Logan Airport.  

I'd better figure out how to ride this thing, and quick!

For now let me fill you in on a nice little excursion to Washington's Mt. Baker, just over the border two hours southeast of Vancouver.  Mt. Baker is Washington's third highest peak, the fourth highest mountain in the Cascade Range, and is widely touted as one of the world's snowiest places.  The Mt. Baker Ski Area saw snowfall of 1,140" in the 1999 season, the current world record.  As such it is home to a huge amount of glacial terrain and avalanche activity, and seemed like a great place for another one of my ill-advised beginner ski mountaineering trips.

Mt. Baker (10,800') and the North Cascades.

I picked up a couple of fellow VOC'ers early on a Saturday morning and we headed for the border.  The plan was pretty simple. We would ski up Heliotrope Ridge on the northwest side, look good, tag the summit (easy) and then ski back down to the car in epic style.  We ignored the miserable weather forecast for the weekend and assumed that the snow would have no choice but to let up, given that we would need a clear day for our inevitable summit the next morning.  The morning cooperated well enough as we skied up a logging road and onto the beginnings of the trail.  The snow continued to fall as we headed deeper and steeper into the forest, and I met and surpassed my comfort level.  We were making steep switchbacks up an icy and densely forested slope when I began my usual routine of judgment-questioning, but I knew things would mellow out once we were up on the ridges and out of the trees. The heavy pack made for one hell of a great workout. If I haven't mentioned my handy pack weight formula to you already, climbing gear plus high altitude winter camping gear equals misery.  It was tough I'll tell ya, but soon enough we climbed out of the woods onto the glaciated slopes to be rewarded with a complete and total whiteout.

Tough going on Heliotrope ridge.  

Into the clouds on Mt. Baker.  

We arrived at treeline on Heliotrope ridge in mid afternoon, and had hoped that most of the heavy weather would have moved on by then. Instead we were greeted with more snow, dense fog and increasing winds.  Visibility was terrible, and we continued on only by the careful and constant use of GPS, map and compass.  Having no spatial reference in this environment can be unnerving to say the least, but the thought of skiing right off or into something keeps you sharp, more or less.  We spent the afternoon slogging through the storm up the wide slopes of the volcano with avalanches periodically rumbling from the unseen Coleman Glacier to our east.  Eventually the wind got bad enough to make us reconsider our plan, and we beat a hasty retreat back to the nearest stand of trees.  We dug in for the night and gathered for dinner, and the snow continued.  My summit fever had been pretty well sapped by the end of day.  It had been a tough day of skiing for unskilled me, and my 25 year old second hand boots had torn my feet up good.  Besides which, I had a feeling that even if the snow did let up overnight, the entire mountain would be avalanche city the next day.  Nonetheless, a plan was made to wake up at 4 to check conditions, and I settled into a much anticipated sleeping bag.  At 4 am it was snowing and at 6 it was snowing also.  Our summit bid had been turned into un gras matinee (a fat morning) as Phillipe says, and we dozed and and watched the weather out the open tent door for a few more hours.

Having a laugh at breakfast.  Camp at 6,500' on Mt. Baker.  

The ski back down was, let's say, let's just say I'm not proud of what happened up there.  A heavy pack, deep powder, zero visibility and a bad skier make for some really terrible skiing.  I had no idea what the slope ahead of me looked like, and windblown snow in your face makes it hard to tell how fast you're going.  At one point I got into a panic because I couldn't turn my skis and was going way too fast, and feared going into a steep slope or cliff.  I hurled myself to the ground and dug my fists into the snow to slow down, in rather dramatic fashion, before realizing that I had never been moving in the first place.  That was a good one.  When we were finally back into the trees I did the standard Newton shuffle, throwing the skis on my pack in a clearly visible show of defeat.  There was no way I was going to continue that alpine blooper reel into a steep forest, and by now I'm getting pretty used to walking down mountains with a perfectly good pair of skis on my back.  I was able to get in a little actual skiing on the final stretch of logging road back down to the car.  I skied right onto the dry asphalt that our cars were parked on, I think I was too tired to compute the results before doing so.  Thankfully I still had my helmet on as my thick dome bounced off the pavement in front of a couple of confused looking skiers.  The perfect end to a perfect weekend.  Foolishness aside, I learned a lot about what not to do on Mt. Baker, and got in ten tough miles.

Making our way down in more snow.  

That's it for now folks.  I'm going to keep it going out here for the PMC, and I'll keep the photos of whiteouts coming for you!  Please stay tuned for the next one, and please donate if you can!  Thanks!