Tips to conquer Mount St. Helens in the peak season
Brute force needed, but it’s well worth the effort
An hour before sunrise, the engines start to turn over in the Lone Fir Resort parking lot. Headlamps slowly pop on as the cars creep out onto the misty road one by one.
I had pulled into the lot at dusk the night before.
Lone Fir is a popular layover for hikers on their way to climb Mount St. Helens, in Skamania County, Wash.
The atmosphere was part college campus, with 20-somethings putting up tents and playing Frisbee, and part family destination, with kids and dogs chasing each other through the grounds.
At Lone Fir, climbers can pick up their permits and log into the climbing book prior to their ascents.
Permits are required yearround, but between May 15 and Oct. 31, only 100 climbers per day are allowed up the steep slopes, which makes them a hot commodity.
The permits are released the first week of February.
Because the best summer climbing is usually from July to mid-September, those permit dates are snapped up first.
But if you’re like me, your travel plans aren’t in place five months in advance.
That’s why purmit.com, a website that allows climbers to buy, sell and trade Mount St. Helens climbing permits, was created. Emails exchanged, $22 sent via PayPal and voila! Permit in hand.
The first few kilometres on the Ptarmigan Trail — the only summit trail that survived the volcano’s 1980 eruption — wind through dim forests that muffle your footsteps.
A quietness overtakes the hike as dawn slowly improves visibility.
The Loowit Trail Junction, at 1,463 metres, marks the point at which climbing permits are required.
As you continue up the trail, the tree line falls away and boulder fields emerge. Negotiating the field’s rough, ashy surfaces requires alpine scrambling — wedging your feet, hands and knees into crevices for leverage and using brute strength to pull yourself over large boulders and rocks.
The second half of the trail is about 760 metres long and marked with white wooden poles about 15 metres apart. By aiming for the next pole, climbers can slowly make their way up the field.
One boulder may be easier to climb but will take you to a spot where the next four boulders and rocks are harder. The need to negotiate each step while thinking ahead makes scrambling more difficult than hiking a groomed trail.
On the upside, the view during the boulder-field climb is spectacular. On a good day you can see Mount Rainier, Mount Adams, Mount Jefferson and even Mount Hood. After a rest, the last 300 metres to the rim are just ahead.
Past the boulder field, the mountain is covered in ash.
The eruption blanketed the area in 370 kilometres of it, and pumice. Once on the incline, it’s two steps up and a slow slide back. It’s slow going and physically the toughest part of the climb.
Climbers who reach the summit get an unobstructed view of the eruption’s aftermath, a pit more than 300 metres deep. It looks like giant fingernails scraped the side of the mountain.
Standing carefully near the lip of the summit, it’s possible to see puffs of smoke and pumice emerge from the volcano as it continues to bubble.
As each climber slogs up the last 30 metres, others cheer them on. My Independence Day climb was especially celebratory as small fireworks, champagne and American flags were pulled out of packs. Lying on the rim of the crater, meeting new climbers who soon became friends and sharing stories of past climbs made for a leisurely break before heading back the way I’d come.