Order of Visit: High Point # 44
Date Visited: May 20, 2022
Route Taken: Hogsback/Pearly Gates – beginning from top of the Palmer ski lift and back down to Timberline Lodge – 6 miles round-trip
Type of Terrain: Mt. Hood is a strata-volcano covered by snow, icy glaciers, loose rocks, and glacial till (sand). Crampons and and ice axe are essential when traversing the steep snowy slopes and the bergschrund.
Elevation: 11,249 feet
Ancestral Lands: Multnomah, Clackamas, Cascades, Molalla, Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde, Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs
WHAT’S IN A NAME?
This iconic peak was originally known by the name Wy’East, which comes from indigenous legends about the Great Spirit Sahale. According to these tales, both of Sahale’s sons, Pahto (Chief of Klickitat people) and Wy’East (Chief of the Multnomah people), fell in love with the beautiful maiden named Loowit.
Unfortunately, Loowit couldn’t choose between the two brothers. So Wy’East and Pahto battled for her affections in a tremendously destructive fight. This melee burned nearby villages and entire forests in the Pacific Northwest. Sahale grew angry over the chaos and eventually smote all three lovers, erecting three mountain peaks in the places that each one fell. Wy’East became Mt. Hood, Pahto was turned into Mt. Adams, and Loowit transformed into Mt. St. Helens.
Wy’East’s indigenous name was replaced in 1792, when a British expedition under Captain George Vancouver traveled up the Columbia River. After spotted Wy’East rising to their south, one of the ship’s lieutenant’s offered up the name Mt. Hood, in honor of Lord Samuel Hood (1724-1816), a British admiral who fought against the colonies in the American Revolutionary War.
Lewis and Clark later spotted this snow-capped mountain from Columbia River Gorge during their search for the northwest passage in 1805. They briefly called the peak Falls Mountain and Timm Mountain before realizing it was the same mountain the Vancouver expedition already named Mt. Hood twelve years earlier.
Interestingly, Lord Hood never visited Oregon. Nor did he see the mountain named after him (much like President William McKinley never visited Alaska’s Denali). But this mountain continues to remain named after a foreign military leader who fought against America’s independence from British colonial rule.
The native moniker Wy’East is still quite popular in the local area though. For example, there’s the Wy’East Wonder, an ultramarathon race on the mountain’s east side each June. And the beautiful spot on the slopes of Mt. Hood’s northern side is named Wy’East Basin.
TRIP SUMMARY
Mt. Hood holds a special place in my heart because it’s my own state high point. However, despite it’s close proximity to home, I tackled it fairly late into my highpointing adventures. The reason for this delay was two-fold: (1) Mt. Hood’s technical difficulty; and (2) my lack of mountaineering/glacier experience. I knew reaching Oregon’s high point would require me to really emerge from my comfort zone.
I took the opportunity to reconnoiter Mt. Hood from just about every possible vantage point possible in September 2021 on the 40-mile Timberline Trail that circumnavigates the volcano. In the end, I concluded there was really only one feasible option for me to get to safely reach the top. I’d need to hire a guide.
Even though I’m a strong hiker with good physical stamina, I don’t have the rock climbing, snow, or ice navigation skills to summit this peak on my own. So I booked a two-day guided trip with Timberline Mountain Guides (TMG) with the intention of bagging it on May 19-20, 2022.
- Day 1 of the trip was designed as a prep day to ensure all the members of our climbing group had adequate gear and attended a 4-hour snow school session.
- Day 2 was when I was scheduled to summit the volcano.
I was pretty apprehensive about this climb too. Mt. Hood is a steep volcano, and it’s uppermost sections are covered by 12 glaciers or snowfields on year-round basis. Additionally, the winter/spring season of 2022 saw above average precipitation in Oregon. So by the time I my dates for this climbing adventure rolled around, Mt. Hood’s snowpack was sitting at 106%.
But Mother Nature still wasn’t quite done with Oregon in late May. Another spring snow storm descended on Mt. Hood as I drove up the three hours from my home for this adventure. Before the day was over, five more inches snow would fall on Government Camp — and close to a foot of fresh snow fell on the route up Mt. Hood.
I made it to TMG’s offices just before our 10 am meet up, and that’s when I learned there were only be six people in my party – four climbers and two guides. TMG’s ratio of climbers to guides is 3:1, so our group would be a little smaller than normal.
As we got to know each other, one of the members of our group revealed this was on her fourth attempt up Mt. Hood! Her first experience was a two-day climb. She camped halfway up mountain on the first day, but the weather on summit day was so bad that the guide had to cancel the rest of the climb and send everyone back down the mountain. Her second Mt. Hood experience was the same group climb I was doing with TMG. Unfortunately, her partner had a panic attack part of the way up, forcing them to return before the summit. Her third unsuccessful attempt was a one-on-one guided climb. But she hit bad weather once again, and she was only able to ascend as far up as Devil’s Kitchen before heading back down. And so, here she was for a fourth attempt.
As we chatted, one of the guides came over to meet the group and introduced herself as Sharon. Her first order of business was to make sure everyone signed all the requisite waiver forms (apparently climbing Mt. Hood is a dangerous sport!), the she got everyone fitted for mountaineering boots, crampons, helmets, and climbing harnesses. After doing an inventory of our other gear on the packing list, we learned how to put our crampons on (and remove them) while indoors and in ideal conditions. So far, so good.
With all the basics covered, it was time for us to move outside to learn some snow skills. And what better way to learn than in the middle of a 20°F snow storm! Thank goodness I wore plenty of warm layers and brought my snow goggles to keep the snow out of my eyes.
Over the next few hours, we practiced different methods for walking on the snow, ice, and glaciers. We donned our crampons again (this time with the snow blowing into our faces and with gloves making our dexterity much, much worse). And Sharon taught us how to move together on a short rope, as well as ascending and descending on a belay line. Near the end of our session, we even went over a few methods for self-arresting with an ice axe during a fall, but Sharon reassured us that our ice axe would primarily be used for balance and climbing instead.
Once we concluded our 4-hour snow school primer, it was time to head back down to Government Camp to get a few hours of rest at the hotel. It was 3 pm. We’d have nearly 12 hours of down time, and then meet back at Timberline Lodge all geared up and ready to go at 2:30 in the morning!
I didn’t get much sleep before this climb. It’s always super difficult to try to go to bed at 7 pm, even when you don’t have the anxiety of the next day’s snowy adventure building inside of you. So it’s probably not a surprise that I was wide awake at 1:15 am without even needing my alarm.
Before leaving the hotel, I took two final preparatory steps that made a world of difference on my climb. First off, I made myself a thermos of hot coffee so I had something warm to drink during the ascent. Second, I filled my 32-ounce Nalgene bottle with hot tea. Thank goodness I’d gone with hot liquids too. By the time I started drinking this second bottle on the mountain, the it was more like iced tea, which chunks of ice floating in it!
My drive back up to Timberline Lodge in the pitch black darkness was actually easier than it had been during the daytime. That’s because it was no longer snowing and the curvy 6-mile road was finally plowed. The weather forecast even predicted a moderately warm day in store for us with temperatures reaching 50°F this afternoon!
When I arrived at our meeting point, Miles introduced himself our second guide. And after one final gear check with Sharon and Miles, we all loaded up in the snowcat for our 3 am ride up the part of the mountain.
Many guides use the snowcat to get climbers up from Timberline Lodge up to: (1) the Silcox Hut (at the top of the Magic Mike ski lift and 7000′ elevation); or (2) to the top of the Palmer ski lift at 8,540′ elevation.
We were riding up to the Palmer ski lift with a second group of climbers. But even though the snowcat is a fully-tracked vehicle (like a bulldozer or tank) designed to move on snow, it would still take us a half hour to ascend the steep, snow-covered miles up to the Palmer snowfield.
Once we arrived at the top of the ski lift, it was time to start our climb on foot. Sharon was in the lead. The four climbers of our group were in the middle. And Miles brought up the rear. Yet we barely made it 3-4 minutes before Sharon stopped us to put on crampons. The ice here was almost completely exposed and made the trek slippery enough that we’d need those metal spikes to keep us all upright and safe.
For the next hour or so, we zigzagged up the mountain in the dark toward Illumination Rock and Devil’s Kitchen. All of us wore headlamps, careful to keep them focused on the icy steps in front of us. Luckily, Sharon kept the pace nice and easy and we were ascending at about 1000′ per hour.
Just above Illumination Rock, we caught up to a gaggle of about 25 hikers and guides standing around and taking their first break. According to Sharon, today was really the first nice day of the 2022 climbing season, and it looked like the mountain was going to be a busy, busy place!
The early morning sunlight was starting to breach the horizon to our east, and we stopped to eat, drink, and add another layer before ascending higher. We were now above 9,500′ elevation and still had nearly 2000 more vertical feet to go.
This break was when the dynamic of our group suddenly changed. One of the other TMG guides came over to talk to Miles and ask if our group could take on two more climbers. Miles reshuffled the group, and he took the three male climbers (including the two new guys), while Sharon took the three female climbers.
Honestly, I didn’t mind the gender division. I felt more in sync with Sharon’s guiding style (since she ran our snow school) and I’d gotten to know the other two female climbers yesterday too. I’d rather continue with the personalities I already knew, if we were going to be tethered together on a short rope from here on up.
With the sun now illuminating out way, it was time to head up another 1000′ feet to Hogsback, a snowy ridge that curved around Devil’s Kitchen. As we patiently worked our way up together on a short rope, I could smell the strong sulfur odor emitting from the steaming fumarole. This noxious smell is how this landmark on the mountain got its name. Only the devil would enjoy the smell of what this mountain was cooking under its rocky mantle.
Up on Hogsback, we found ourselves stopped on the steep ridge in what looked like a conga line. There were two other groups stopped ahead of us on the ridge, and two more small groups further up the slopes working their way up.
All the guides were concerned about the possibility of avalanche conditions from yesterday’s snow and wind, so we were going to hold up here on Hogsback for the next half hour until they could do some testing on the slope to make sure a slab wasn’t likely to sheer off and send us into peril.
I kept my fingers crossed during their avalanche assessment. I really hope we didn’t have to turn back here. The climb hadn’t been technical thus far, but it had been steep and icy. I wasn’t sure I’d commit to returning in the future now that I knew exactly how much this mountain would challenge my fears of heights and of falling.
Above us, I focused on the Pearly Gates where we still needed to climb. They were spectacularly beautiful with the fresh snow and ice formations clinging to them. But, the extra time also gave me more time to contemplate what was ahead instead of just committing to it and walking.
Eventually the guides ahead of us radioed back their avalanche hazard assessment. They were pretty confident that it was safe to continue. We’d use the left side of the Pearly Gates. It was time to continue up.
Eventually we got to a section below an are called “the bench.” The slope was too steep to trek up using the same methods we’d been using until now. We’d need to belay up using the skills we learned yesterday.
Sharon would put a picket in and clipped us to the mountain, and then she climb up solo to put in another picket up above the bench. When she yelled”belay on” back down to me, my job was to unhook us from the lower picket and start climbing up what looked like a vertical wall of frozen snow.
As the lead person on our short rope, I’d be climbing up with my ice axe and kicking toe holds into that wall with my crampons. But I could only get about two steps up before the tension on the rope was pulled taut between me and the person behind me, and I couldn’t ascend any farther.
That same limitation would happen for the middle climber and the person at the tail end too. Thus, all three us us would have climb in tandem, at the same exact pace, to prevent one another from pulling the others into a less secure position (read: falling).
I’m not sure if being in the front of this short-rope line was the best position for me. I felt like I was having to kick in fresh toe holds with every step up. And try to pick the best route. It was like climbing a ladder that you are creating as you go along. And it was scariest as anything I’ve EVER done!
I would thrust my axe into the snow wall above me, hold on for dear life, then step up and kick a foothold in with with one crampon, and do the same thing with the other crampon. Rinse and repeat until you climb up to your mountain guide somewhere above.
When we finally got up to Sharon’s location up on The Bench (which was essentially a four-foot wide snow ledge), my heart was racing. This climbing stuff was hard. And scary. And it wasn’t even close to being over yet!! Sharon was leaving us here on The Bench and climbing up through the Pearly Gates next.
I tried to use this downtime to mentally recover from the last climb and build my courage to continue. This is NOT my idea of a good time. I’m pretty sure I dislike every aspect of mountaineering: the scary drop offs, having to trust my gear not to fail, feeling like one wrong move could be catastrophic… It’s all just a bit much to me. And it comports with many of the same reasons I also don’t enjoy downhill skiing or mountain biking.
Before I had time to lose my nerve, Sharon called down to us again. “Belay on,” she hollered. That was my cue to untether us from The Bench and start climbing again. But now we had a problem.
While Sharon was getting our next picket set, another group of guys decided to overtake us and jump ahead. And now they were right in my way – with half their team above of us and the other half below us.
I hollered up to Sharon that we were “on belay” while I waited for the other interloping guide to make a decision. Was he going to pick up the pace of his team or let us by? We weren’t just sitting there looking pretty. We were climbing this damn mountain.
Eventually, he waved us through the narrow chute. It was like an unnecessary game of Twister to keep from getting our ropes tangled. Then I was moving in tandem with the two other climbers on my short rope once again. I desperately tried to stick my crampons into prior footholds from Sharon and the climbers ahead of us, but they weren’t spaced right for me. So I was kicking new steps into the snowy, icy wall again and making my way up the Pearly Gates.
Expletives ran through my mind the entire time. Why the f*&$ was I doing this, again?!?
Once reunited with Sharon, we were able to stand up on the snow and begin the slow trek up to the summit. No more dreaded climbing on snow walls. The mountain was finally leveling off.
There were close to a dozen hikers already atop the summit when we arrived, and the sky was the most cobalt blue color. From this spot, I saw the thick layer of white clouds blanketing the terrain below us. The only thing visible from up here were the triangular mountain peaks poking up through the clouds.
Up to our north, I could see the big peaks in Washington state – Mt. Adams, Mt. St. Helens, and Mt. Rainier. To our south, I could see Mt. Jefferson, the Three Sisters, and Mt. Bachelor rising up from the Cascades. That’s approximately 200 miles of visibility from north to south! Wow!!!
At that moment it finally was sinking in. I made it! I really made it. All the the way to the top of Mt. Hood. The highest peak in my home state of Oregon. After all that hard work, I was standing atop my 44th state high point!
Unfortunately Miles’s team didn’t join us at the top of Mt. Hood. They had to turn back for some reason. I don’t know if someone was having issues, or what the particular reason was for Miles to take them back down early. But I simply was ecstatic that I’d made it.
On the other hand, I was still a bit concerned that we were only half way done with this climb. We still had to get back off the mountain. And that meant we’d have to reverse back down those same scary sections we’d just climbed up. What’s more, I was now at the tail end of the belay instead of in the front. So now I’d have to downclimb blindly at someone else’s pace!
All I can say here was the descent was scary. And slow. And there were a lot of other people trying to do it at the same time.
Once we got secure down near our lower picket and waited for Sharon to return, falling snowballs and ice chunks started to pelt us as other hikers kicked in their steps with crampons above us. All we could do to shield ourselves from injury was turn our faces into the mountain and let the icy hazards fall off against our helmets, shoulders, and arms.
As we worked our way back down to Hogsback, then Devil’s Kitchen, and then the Palmer ski lift, the sun was baking us. We were still above the clouds and every ray of sunshine was reflecting off the snow and ice. During one of our rest breaks, I stripped off my jackets and mid-layer and was just down a t-shirt and wool base layer. But even that felt too warm up here at elevation in the sun.
After what felt like an eternity, we finally returned back at the Palmer lift. And then our group split once again. Sharon and one of the ladies would to ski back down to the lodge (they’d stashed their ski gear near the chair lift shed before our climb), while the remaining climber and I walked back down to the parking area via the Climber’s Route.
I longingly looked over at the Palmer chair lift and considered how much time and energy riding that lift would save us, but alas, we didn’t have lift tickets. So we had to walk back down through the clouds to Timberline Lodge in our inflexible mountaineering boots.
Oh well! After everything I’d managed to do outside my comfort zone today, walking downhill on a snowy trail seemed like a piece of cake!
DETAILS
When to Visit: This volcano is open year-round, with hikers and ice climbers taking different routes based on the season and their skills. The most popular time to hike to the summit is May to mid-July, which is usually after the avalanche season, but before the crevasses open or the risk of rockfall increases as the snow melts.
Getting There: Mt. Hood is located approximately 60 miles east of Portland, Oregon, and the most common route to the summit beginning at Timberline Lodge on the south side of the volcano.
Fees/Permits: All hikers and climbers in the Mt. Hood Wilderness must complete a self-issued wilderness permit at the trailhead. There is no cost or quota limits for this permit. In addition, a climbers should rent a Mountain Locator Unit (MLU). If a rescue is initiated for a climber who doesn’t have a MLU, the climber will be fined $500.
Parking: There are three paved parking lots at Timberline Lodge. The uppermost parking lot is designated for hotel guests only. Meanwhile, the two lower lots near the Wy’East Day Lodge are free for hikers and climbers to use.
Accessibility: Summiting this high point requires a high altitude and difficult hike up steep terrain. Although the most common route is rated as Grade 2 (non-technical, scrambling) much of the route is on glaciers or loose rocks, and it reaches a maximum incline of 35°. A fall could be fatal. Hikers without mountaineering and glacier skills will want to hire a guide to assist with route finding and safety.
Bonus: The 40-mile Timberline Trail circumnavigates Mt. Hood, and coincides with part of the famed Pacific Crest Trail. Backpackers interested in hiking this trail can check out my trail journal and blog posts from my September 2021 trip on the Timberline Trail.
Resources:
- An Overview of Mt. Hood (Summit Post)
- Timberline Mountain Guides (Local guide company I used for this hike)
- How to Train for Mt. Hood (FitClimb)