Skimo Expeditions
Glacier Peak Ski Descent
Southwest Face of Glacier Peak, April 12-14 2024
Day 1:
Glacier Peak is the most isolated Volcano in the Cascade Mountains, at least that's what it feels like. It is located deep in the Glacier Peak wilderness, starting just below 2000 feet, the mountain takes you up over 8500 feet through breathtaking rainforest, alpine, and glaciated terrain. Unfortunately, the 10,500 foot summit is not a simple straight basin away. You cross over several high passes, with so, so, so much sidehilling.
Ty and I made the late flight to Seattle, staying with my very kind uncle Jeff and his partner Julia. By the time we were all set up at Jeff's, we had less than 3 hours to sleep before heading out to the parking lot. The 2 hour drive flew by for Ty and I, sleeping most of it, but Jeff, driving, was unable to share that luxury. We met up with the rest of the squad (Chad, Dane, and Lance) at a grocery store where we said goodbye to the last real toilets for 3 days.
We started pretty late around 10am and had no short distance to go. We trudged through the overgrown trail over downed trees for 5 miles before the real suffering began. From here, the trail began to gain over 2000 feet through seemingly endless switchbacks. Unfortunately, Jeff had to make the difficult call to turn around due to exhuastion (Ty and I's fault for getting in so late...). But the rest of us trudged on.
Unfortunately, what awaited us at the top of the switchbacks was several miles of steep sidehilling through fully saturated, wet, cascade concrete. The moving was anything but fast. Thankfully, another group decided to pass us and break the trail! This made it much easier, but now we were bottlenecked by their breaking. We bided our time and finally made it to camp just before sunset.
Day 2:
BEEP BEEP BEEP. Our alarms went off at the ripe time of 6:30 in the morning! Our slow progress on day one set us way behind schedule for day two. We had camped around white pass, 4 miles and 2000 feet from our desired campsite at glacier gap. So we were playing catchup. The day started with more sidehilling, but luckily we were able to ski down and cover some large distance down the backside by marmot knob.
Finally, after a slog on day one and a super early morning, we caught our first glimpse of the stunning glacier peak. "Damn, that is really far away still..." We had a couple miles to go to get to glacier gap still, but luckily the sidehilling was over and we were walking on smooth, flat ground to get to the knob.
Along the way, we met up with a group who was also going for the summit but in an ambitious 2-day ascent. They ended up being really weird (more about them later) but they took a great picture! At around 11:30. We finally made it to our preferred campsite... We were behind schedule a lot. We danced around the topic but didn't really discuss it. We knew we had the weather window, and each of us independantly were thinking to go until it didn't make sense, but things were not moving as fast as they should've been.
The next section of trail was where things got fun. Finally we were skinning something we would be able to ski down. I observed that the snow would've been perfect for skiing right about now, but we were several hours from the summit. Still, we pushed on. We roped up for the glacier (for being called glacier peak this mountain is pretty tame!), and kept moving on.
If it seems like this trip report is going on forever, that's what glacier peak feels like. It is a big mountain with a very very very long approach. We *finally* were within close range of the summit, and it was stunning. The upper reaches of the mountain are gorgous and have a very unique feel. We discussed whether it made sense to go for a summit, as it was almost 3pm at this point and we had a loooooong way back.
Lance, having already summited in the past, decided to make some water at the saddle. Chad and Dane decided to go as far as they felt comfortable, and Ty and I were confident we could push to the top. Luckily the strange other group set a boot pack for us so we were flying up! Going between the ice covered rock outcroppings at the top has to be one of the strangest environments I've ever been in. I liken them to the hoodoos of southern Utah, but in some strange frozen world.
As we finally made it to the summit, I felt pure elation. I had never put in so much effort for one silly little summit. I had doubts all day long that we would be able to make it, so to be on top was truly incredible. But this is when the reality set in. Our goal was no longer to summit, our goal was to get back. And while we were not incredibly concerned about safety, I knew it was not going to be easy.
Skiing the upper mountain was truly incredible. Through the hoodoos and then down the gentle glacier. It was some really high quality skiing. Ty was able to snag some wonderful shots as well. The cascades are an incredible range. Jagged peaks soar high above the rainforest in the valleys below. Everywhere I looked I saw potential lines, and unlike Colorado, they all looked filled in!
But this is about where the fun ended. We were skinning/skiing the next few miles all the way to the base of marmot knob, which went by quick. But it was so late already with our 4:30 summit, that darkness was beginning to fall upon us. This is where the problems began.
As we reached the top of the pass by Marmot knob, the sun was very low in the sky. We began traverseing with skins on the East side of the pass, it was cold and dark. Despite the high, probably 50+ degree temps earlier, the clear skies allowed the east side to completely freeze as soon as we went over the pass. The 30 degree snowfield quickly steepened until our hands were nearly touching the wall. It has to have been low 50s. Naturally this is a terrifying place to be with skins on. Unfortunately, the team and I had a disagreement. Everyone else had decided to sidestep down to where it flattens out with skins on. I, splitting my ski crampons with Ty, was not comfortable sideslipping with skins at 50 degrees. I decided to perform a skimo transition and ski around the corner to where it flattened out. While I was initially behind them, as soon as I was moving I quickly beat them around the corner.
At this point, our light had all but disappeared, and I was at least 100 feet above the rest of the group. I went to get my headlight when I had a bad realization. My headlamp was on in my backpack. It must've been on all day, as the light was too dim to have any use. I began to get worried, so I radioed the group to let them know my situation. They encouraged me to come down to them, but I had encouraged them to come up to me. So we continued on seperate. They had to continue to drop down almost 300 feet below me to find a break in the ridge, whereas I had been able to go through a gap in the cornice at my current height. Once I came around the corner, I waited for their headlamps to appear while sitting in a pleasant, flat area. The headlamps never came.
I began to panic as it had become worryingly long without any contact. I reached out via radio but found no response. Eventually I became very concerened and checked back over the ridge. Eventually, I was able to get a response via radio and we tried to find each other. They had assumed I went on without them so they had been moving below me, out of sight for at least 8 minutes. They kept saying to look for their headlamps but the terrain kept us seperate. I had flashbacks to my night on Crestone Peak, but luckily I was much more prepared this time around. After 15 minutes of searching, I caught a slight glimpse of their light a couple gulleys over. I made my way over and down and was relieved to be reunited.
From here, we were fairly far away from the camp over just a few hundred feet. I had found the skis to be very effective at traversing on such icy snow, but the rest of the group was determined to keep skinning. I ended up crossing each gulley quickly, largely waiting for the rest of the group. After anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours of this (hard to remember now!), the camp was in sight. I communicated with the group and skiied down. Home sweet home. It was super late, and I had to eat, make water, and get ready for the next day. I told myself at the summit to really enjoy and remember that moment, because it was only going to get worse. It was hard to see the joy that night, cold, melting snow, and just wanting to be in bed, but it was 100% worth it. The glacier peak wilderness is stunning, isolated, and I have never seen such an incredible expanse where no human activity can be seen for hundreds of miles in any direction.
Day 3:
We had to wake up early so Ty could make his flight, so we only ended up getting 6~ hours of sleep. We took a couple hours to get packed up the next morning. It was tolerable, but definitely one of the worst parts of backpacking is leaving! It was still early enough to be good skinning and skiing, and we took a super fun line down the ridge from White Mountain. Another small disagreement about how to access the trail led to a couple miles of wallowing in the soggiest sloppiest Cascade Concrete I have ever laid my eyes upon. One crash made me question my decisions a little bit! But eventually we made it to the dry trail. We did it! At least, the snow part. We still had 5 miles of gruelling trail including about a million downed logs. The weight of rope, tent, overnight gear, skis, boots, and everything that you wouldn't want to have on your back was not my favorite part of the whole trip...
It was probably the most gruelling three days of my life. The endless pushing made it extremely uncomfortable, and always being behind schedule from day one added an aspect of stress which only made it harder. The last 5 miles felt like an eternity and when we finally made it to the parking lot I felt a level of relief that I've only felt on days like Rainier and Gannet Peak. Glacier Peak is HARD.
But I would still recommend it entirely! It is the perfect remote backpacking trip, and while I am not sure I'd recommend anybody ski this, I am glad that I got the opportuntity to ski the incredible upper mountain!