I went on vacation to the West coast with my girlfriend, and aside from doing the touristy things that she wanted to do, I needed to do something exciting. As a little kid who was fascinated by Mount St. Helens erupting in 1980, I always had an interest in the mountain.
I like hiking, so when we planned the trip I decided that I was going to climb Mount Saint Helens. I went onto the website and bought a permit to climb it. Finally last Thursday the day came. I went to Jack's Restaurant to fill out the paperwork and get my permit and dust mask, and off I went.
We drove up the road to the Climber's Bivouac where the trail begins. I know the mountain isn't in the news much lately, but it's still technically erupting. Here is the mountain from the start of the trail: pic
I start off the hike, it's just a nice path through the woods: pic1, pic2
The trail winds through the woods and it continuously goes uphill. In case you need to use the restroom, there's an outhouse with the best view ever: look at that view
The trail through the woods ends and you come up to the beginning of the tough part. A permit is needed to go up to the mountain. Monitor Ridge.
The rocky part begins: rocky part begins, colorful bottom of mountain
It begins getting tough, and you have to climb over non-stop rocks. At first it's not hard, but the mountain has plenty of rocks to wear you down. rocks
A look back at my progress
Follow the trail markers or you'll get lost
After a while of hiking, the summit appears over the hills
Others walking down the lava flow. Everyone I passed was going the opposite direction than me. They started much earlier in the day, so they could get back before sunset. The climb took longer than I thought, and there was no way I'd get back before dark. A park ranger even recommended that I either turn back or find a place to hunker down for the night.
The rocks begin to get very fine and it's almost all ash and little rocks. They're extremely abrasive and get into everything, including your lungs. That's why you need a dust mask. rocks/ash
A look back over the ridge I've climbed so far
I'd be lying if I said that I easily climbed right up. The air is dry and dusty, and I drank all my water way too early. I ran out of energy and tried my hardest to trek on. I couldn't keep a slow pace because daylight was fading. The elevation, dry air, constant walking uphill, balancing on rocks, and breathing through the dust mask get to you. It makes for a much harder hike than you'd think. I'm really hurting by this point. I'm also too heavy. I'm geared for playing football, so I'm heavy and quick, but being light and efficient would be a huge benefit when you're climbing uphill for 5 hours straight. I could probably sprint up 50 yards of rocks faster than most athletic thin people, but after an hour or so it takes its toll.
I'm so exhausted that I keep telling myself that I have to push on even though I have no energy. I end up climbing a few feet then resting. I pass some more people going down and they say the view is fantastic. One guy sees the pain I'm in and says the words I needed to hear to continue, "It's worth it." I continue on.
The view is awesome up here
panoramic view of the summit coming up
I finally see a stick near the summit: stick
Completly exhausted by now and out of water, I reach the summit. As my head peaks over the rim, I get dizzy from the sheer size of the crater. It's enormous. The path around it is about as wide as a sidewalk. If you fall off the outside, you're rolling down the mountain to your death, and if you fall off the inside, well, you fell 1800 feet into a volcano crater.
Panoramic crater view
My shadow, looking over the crater, with Mount Adams in the distance
The volcanic cone, building in the middle. It's steaming and hissing. I can also hear rocks crumbling inside. I think they said the cone is still being built and at the peak of the cone building, about a dumptruck load of rock was being extruded into the cone per second. The cone is much, much larger than it looks. The crater is immense. It looks like a little pike of dirt, but it's about 900 feet high, and I'm about 900 feet above it.
I come back down and see a couple of late hikers, there's no way that they're getting up and down by the time the sun sets. But I tell them that it's worth the view.
As I climb back down, the sun begins to set, turning the light gray rocks a nice golden color: sunset rocks. The sky is still a nice blue. In NJ, it would be orange this time of day.
Going back down
Beautiful sunset.. getting darker
and darker
goodbye sun
Cool silhouette of a lone tree
It looks serene, but I'm actually hurrying my ass off trying to get off these rocks before it's pitch dark. I end up getting stuck on there during the dark and couldn't see the trail markers. I was out of water, I was totally exhausted, and I just laid on the rocks for a while. Someone luckily passed by (the two that I saw coming up) and they helped my back on the trail. We walked back down the mountain and through the woods in pitch black, with only my little LED maglite helping.
Thanks for reading.
I like hiking, so when we planned the trip I decided that I was going to climb Mount Saint Helens. I went onto the website and bought a permit to climb it. Finally last Thursday the day came. I went to Jack's Restaurant to fill out the paperwork and get my permit and dust mask, and off I went.
We drove up the road to the Climber's Bivouac where the trail begins. I know the mountain isn't in the news much lately, but it's still technically erupting. Here is the mountain from the start of the trail: pic
I start off the hike, it's just a nice path through the woods: pic1, pic2
The trail winds through the woods and it continuously goes uphill. In case you need to use the restroom, there's an outhouse with the best view ever: look at that view
The trail through the woods ends and you come up to the beginning of the tough part. A permit is needed to go up to the mountain. Monitor Ridge.
The rocky part begins: rocky part begins, colorful bottom of mountain
It begins getting tough, and you have to climb over non-stop rocks. At first it's not hard, but the mountain has plenty of rocks to wear you down. rocks
A look back at my progress
Follow the trail markers or you'll get lost
After a while of hiking, the summit appears over the hills
Others walking down the lava flow. Everyone I passed was going the opposite direction than me. They started much earlier in the day, so they could get back before sunset. The climb took longer than I thought, and there was no way I'd get back before dark. A park ranger even recommended that I either turn back or find a place to hunker down for the night.
The rocks begin to get very fine and it's almost all ash and little rocks. They're extremely abrasive and get into everything, including your lungs. That's why you need a dust mask. rocks/ash
A look back over the ridge I've climbed so far
I'd be lying if I said that I easily climbed right up. The air is dry and dusty, and I drank all my water way too early. I ran out of energy and tried my hardest to trek on. I couldn't keep a slow pace because daylight was fading. The elevation, dry air, constant walking uphill, balancing on rocks, and breathing through the dust mask get to you. It makes for a much harder hike than you'd think. I'm really hurting by this point. I'm also too heavy. I'm geared for playing football, so I'm heavy and quick, but being light and efficient would be a huge benefit when you're climbing uphill for 5 hours straight. I could probably sprint up 50 yards of rocks faster than most athletic thin people, but after an hour or so it takes its toll.
I'm so exhausted that I keep telling myself that I have to push on even though I have no energy. I end up climbing a few feet then resting. I pass some more people going down and they say the view is fantastic. One guy sees the pain I'm in and says the words I needed to hear to continue, "It's worth it." I continue on.
The view is awesome up here
panoramic view of the summit coming up
I finally see a stick near the summit: stick
Completly exhausted by now and out of water, I reach the summit. As my head peaks over the rim, I get dizzy from the sheer size of the crater. It's enormous. The path around it is about as wide as a sidewalk. If you fall off the outside, you're rolling down the mountain to your death, and if you fall off the inside, well, you fell 1800 feet into a volcano crater.
Panoramic crater view
My shadow, looking over the crater, with Mount Adams in the distance
The volcanic cone, building in the middle. It's steaming and hissing. I can also hear rocks crumbling inside. I think they said the cone is still being built and at the peak of the cone building, about a dumptruck load of rock was being extruded into the cone per second. The cone is much, much larger than it looks. The crater is immense. It looks like a little pike of dirt, but it's about 900 feet high, and I'm about 900 feet above it.
I come back down and see a couple of late hikers, there's no way that they're getting up and down by the time the sun sets. But I tell them that it's worth the view.
As I climb back down, the sun begins to set, turning the light gray rocks a nice golden color: sunset rocks. The sky is still a nice blue. In NJ, it would be orange this time of day.
Going back down
Beautiful sunset.. getting darker
and darker
goodbye sun
Cool silhouette of a lone tree
It looks serene, but I'm actually hurrying my ass off trying to get off these rocks before it's pitch dark. I end up getting stuck on there during the dark and couldn't see the trail markers. I was out of water, I was totally exhausted, and I just laid on the rocks for a while. Someone luckily passed by (the two that I saw coming up) and they helped my back on the trail. We walked back down the mountain and through the woods in pitch black, with only my little LED maglite helping.
Thanks for reading.
Many nature photographers highly recommend keeping a powerful flashlight and fresh batteries handy for when one takes sunset pictures from mountains and needs to get back down.
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