Baring Mountain 4.7.13
Sara thought the weekend would be a great opportunity for us to tackle a volcano on our list, Mt St Helens. Unfortunately the Washington weather had other ideas. We followed the weather all week but it didn't improve. There was a bunch of snow forecast for the higher elevations, with rain down low. We want to do a one day ski ascent of Mt St Helens, but with the forecast we'd be starting in rain. We decided Sunday would be the better day of the two since snow levels were predicted to be lower. When we checked again Friday night, needing to obtain permits for climbing if we chose to do so, we discovered some pretty high winds with gusts up in the low 50's. We wisely decided to save Mt St Helens for another day. At the same time we still wanted to get out in the mountains and get some elevation in, so idiotically we decided to still climb something. The snow level was suppose to start about 3500' Sunday morning and lower to 2900' around 11am. That meant we could stay above the snow line and head down to Paradise to skin up towards Muir, or find something near Stevens Pass. Or we could tough it out and deal with the rain and climb something a little lower. A little rain never hurt anyone so why not start down low? The two best options on our list of things to climb were Snoqualmie Mountain and Baring Mountain. Since Matt and I have both climbed Snoqualmie, Sara picked Baring Mountain. I had attempted it the previous year with my BCC team. We left about 7am, slowly kicked steps up the steep slope in the mud; finally hit snow so we could move at a decent speed; traversed the ridge and made it to the basin. It was a pretty nice day out but we decided we didn't have enough time to summit so instead we played on some rocks in the basin. The team decided to take a short cut on the way down, and getting cliffed out and an extra 700' feet of elevation gain later, we were following our tracks back so we could make it to the cars just before 9pm, exhausted and soaked and without a summit. I was hoping for a better outcome this time around, but we were already starting in the rain. Did I say we always make the best decisions when it comes to wanting to climb? Weather, illness - who lets silly things like those deter them?
We had discussed doing Baring earlier in the season and Sara had estimated 11.5 hours for us to tag the summit. I wanted to do it earlier in the season if possible, to avoid as much of the steep muddy slope in hopes of finding nice snow to kick steps up. The tricky part is timing it so that it's not too long of a hike in on the road but having snow on the slopes. Reading some trip reports from the prior weekend, it seemed that we should be able to get about a mile from the trailhead - not too bad. Anticipating a long day, we decided to start as close to sunrise as possible. Matt and Sara picked me up at 5am and we were headed to the mountains. It was raining pretty hard, not the typical Seattle rain. That was not a good omen for the day. I had expected to start in rain pants and my shell, and packed everything in my pack in various bags to keep them dry. We turned off on the forest service road and headed up toward the trailhead. Matt made it through one patch of snow to the dry road on the otherside, only to discover the solid snowpack started just around the next curve. He parked and we got ready in the car to avoid the rain for as long as possible. We started off about 6:45am at around 2000' and were completely soaked by time we made it to the actual trailhead 0.75 miles away. Luckily just my outer stuff was wet, I was still dry underneath. Good thing I put everything in my pack in other bags! I also brought three pairs of gloves, anticipating needing to change them a couple times. I started out in my little Mountain Hardwear ones that are waterproof. They proved too cold for me on earlier outings but down in the rain and starting uphill, they proved the perfect pair.
We easily found the climbers trail marked by a couple pieces of orange ribbon. Last year the students had not seen it so we just made our own trail up, which was a good experience to let me know what the ridge was like in general. We followed the pink and orange ribbon up for quite a while. The slope was steep but there seemed to be some good roots and other features to make the going not too terrible. We carried snowshoes and ice axes with us but didn't use them, instead relying on our trekking poles and boots. The rain was a little better in the trees, and much to our joy, turned to snow around 2600'. We cut across the stream following the ribbons, and continued up on the climber's right side of it. We encountered some rock bands farther up, easily circumnavigated. Close to 3000' we hit a more consistent snow cover and decided to head out into a gully. Matt kicked steps up it and led us the last 1000' to the ridge. It's always nice getting onto the snow from the steep, muddy, rock covered slope.
Matt taking a photo break from kicking steps up the gully to the ridge
We hit the ridge father west than I had the year prior, making the traverse a little longer. The snow on the ridge was interesting. The snow was fairly deep where we came up the gully, with some soft stuff on top of an icier crust. The ridge was just barely covered in areas, meaning the roots and rocks were hidden just enough for us to step and slip on them.
Made it to the ridge
It was also more windy and cold, and soon my frozen hands indicated it was time to change gloves. I grabbed my mittens and immediately felt better. Dry gloves are awesome! I didn't even have to get Sara to pre-warm them for me. We traversed the ridge, dropping down on the south side to get around the cliff bands. Soon we were coming up on the next ridge and headed back up to reach the basin. I kicked a few steps but soon Matt took over - he's a step kicking machine.
Heading up 600' to reach the basin, courtesy of Matt the step kicking machine
Sara and I followed up the 600' to reach the basin and get our first glimpse of the gully for the day. We went into the trip knowing we'd be heading through rain, and with the possibility that avalanche conditions in the gully would turn us around.
The gully
There was a considerable amount of new snow in the basin, varying from my knee to my waist in areas. Matt started plowing through, but with how deep it was, we took turns kicking steps. We had our snowshoes but figured we wouldn't want them when heading up the gully, so avoiding the time it would take to put them on and take them off, we decided to swim through the snow instead. I think this is when we decided it was like our very own BCC outing - terrible weather and swimming through lots of fresh snow. I'm pretty sure that was one of the reasons we weren't helping instruct this year, to avoid the requirement of going out in bad weather. Did I mention we always make really good decisions when choosing to go out climbing?
Lots of snow in the basin
I took my turn kicking some steps again, soon letting Matt take over at which point he just took off up the gully. We soon came upon a recent slide. We couldn't tell exactly where it came from but that started our discussion about avalanche conditions. We decided to head up a little farther to see if we could find the origin of the slide. It wasn't a huge slide but a recent one which was concerning. Finally we saw a slab area on the side of the gully where it had broken off from. There were several inches of new snow from the storm on an icy layer. Not that it was particularly heavy, but the gully is quite long, creating the potential for a lot of snow to rush down from above. The gully has steep rocky sides too, creating a terrible terrain trap.
Looking up the gully
We had brought avy gear, but of course I forgot my beacon in the car. Regardless, we decided it wasn't worth the danger and turned around about 5000'. We made quick time back through the basin thanks to the trench we had already cleared through the snow.
Heading down from the gully
Back at the notch where we emerged from the trees, we stopped for lunch. Sara and Matt brought smoked salmon - delicious. I was having a rare hungry day and was eating everything I could get my hands on.
We started back down through the trees to find our steps for the traverse back across. We started glissading but it was pretty icy under the thinner layer of new snow in the trees. Matt and Sara (tougher than me) made it down glissading but it hurt me too much so I started plunge stepping. That was a little more successful except when I'd hit an exceptionally icy patch and wipe out. Thus started my fun traverse back across the ridge. I generally don't posthole a ton but that ridge had my number. I postholed numerous times and kept finding roots to slip on. I think I was falling as much as I was walking sometimes. I even managed to, while heading down hill, post hole and end up facing uphill. Luckily my foot buried in the snow was facing uphill with my body. I found hidden tree branches on my postholes too, with awesome bruises to show for it. At one point I slipped down a small hill and sat there laughing so hard that I started crying. I seriously could not walk for five minutes without falling down at least once. We were watching the ridge, looking for a good place to head down. I had some points from my previous attempt so we headed down a little earlier instead of retracing our steps all the way back across the ridge. I was happy to get some deeper snow that I could plunge step in.
Back on the muddy slope, navigating our way down from the ridge
We made good time down the snow until we hit the muddy slope again. Heading up steep, muddy slopes can be hard work, but heading down is always interesting. I learned how well mountaineering boots can edge in mud, and how it's possible to kick steps and plunge step. With the generous use of trekking poles and green belays (sorry trees!) we slowly made our way down. Sara kept an eye on the topo on her GPS so that we could avoid getting cliffed out on the way down. We crossed one stream and somehow managed to find our way. One of my favorite parts was beaching myself on a huge fallen tree, then grabbing another tree to slide down. There was much falling in the mud, although I think a little less than on the ridge which was nice. Sara even did some logging while we went, pulling a tree down with her.
Soon we emerged back on the old logging road, thankful to be off the muddy slopes and that much closer to the car. Of course, down that low, it was raining again but at that point I don't think any of us cared. We had a bit more road hiking to do, but I swear the car was father away than in the morning. Or at least that 0.75 miles seemed a lot longer. We got to the car and started taking off all the sopping wet, muddy layers. Nothing like a day like that to confirm why happy bags full of dry clothes are so glorious to have waiting for you back at the car. We stopped on our way home in Monroe for some Mexican food. Attempt number 2 on Baring didn't get me much closer to the summit. I think I'll have to wait a while before attempting it again, just long enough to forget how much I hate ascending/descending steep, muddy slopes. Maybe next time I'll wait for some better weather too, on a low avalanche danger day. Regardless of the crappy weather and lack of summit, it was still nice to get out in the mountains and gain confidence that we always make good choices.
View Baring Mountain 4.7.13 in a larger map
Trail up Baring Mountain. Track on the right was our way up, track on the left was down. The little dip on the way down when we hit the logging road is GPS error
Made it a little closer to the summit, maybe someday I'll tag it