Mt Shasta, June 2023

Forward

I've had the idea of climbing Mount Shasta and snowboarding back down for about 2 and a half years when I saw the mountaineering route topographic maps in the bathroom of The Fifth Season gear rental in Shasta. I wanted to do it last year, but the snow dried up too quick and my friend had a knee problem so I waited for the next season. We'd been getting ready for the trip this year but unfortunately the friend that would join me got cold feet and backed out a day and a half before.

I had a hard think about whether or not I should do this trip alone, but ultimately decided to go for it. The distance and elevation would be challenging but still doable, the trail is heavily trafficked so there's always people within eyesight, and I set hard limits about physical exertion, weather, and overall time on trail for myself before driving to Shasta. At the end of the day you need to be the change you want to see in the world.

Day 1

After getting to the trailhead I loaded up the gear onto my back and hit the trail but was nervous starting because it was so heavy. I've never carried this much stuff on a solo trip, nor this heavy of gear. The pack was pushing 60-65lbs and this hike was brutally steep. I came incredibly close to leaving my snowboard and related gear at the car fearing I wouldn't be able to summit with this much weight on my back. I tried it on and just kept telling myself there is no shame in stashing your gear off trail if you get too far into the hike and change your mind. The trail starts with fairly shallow trails in the trees leading up to a stone cabin.
The cabin supposedly is right about where things open up and the trees lesson, but neither myself nor the people I was walking in the vicinity of could find it either. I made it about an hour into the hike before the trail got too steep and I needed to put on crampons. This is by far the most I've ever used crampons, and they're an absolute godsend in the snow. I stopped to do this and got my first real good view of Shasta valley behind me:
I kept trudging uphill, the weight of my pack still on my mind but also optimistic about how close Lake Helen seemed to be. It felt like doing stair climbers the last 1300 ft elevation gain to camp with the incredibly heavy pack on my back. The very last stretch to the camp was by far the steepest so far. Lake Helen is at 9k ft, I woke up this morning at 3k ft, and was at sea level the day before. Eventually you do get to there and feel super accomplished. About a dozen other groups are here, some are setting up tents for an early ascent tomorrow, some are sliding down the hill in front of us on their return from the summit, and a select few are riding snowboards and skis back down that same glissade path.
Leaving all the heavy gear I'm not taking to summit is really boosting my confidence for tomorrow. After setting up my tent and melting multiple rounds of snow in my cookware, I realize one reason why my pack is so heavy. The Fifth Season gave me a three-person tent, and I didn't bother checking before hitting the trail! It definitely felt heavy when I got it, but I just figured that was the nature of snow season tents; I was literally carrying double weight right now. Final task before bed is repacking my backpack for summit attempt tomorrow. It's basically 20% the starting weight now, feeling confident.

Day 2

I woke up at 4am, and after rolling off my sleeping pad I realized they were puddles of water around me; half of my Camelback leaked into the tent and some of my gear was soaked. It looked like the drink nozzle wasn't locked closed and something was pressing it open. Luckily the wet things weren't needed for summit attempt and could be left out to dry, but I now needed to reboil water at 4am when I was supposed to be hitting the trail. I was already behind everyone else because I was snowboarding back down and didn't need to plan as much time for return.
Overall it was an hour setback to fix everything and gear back up, but luckily it put me right at the same departure time as the only other ski campers at Lake Helen; a couple from San Francisco and a day hiker. We all headed up Avalanche Gultch together and before long the sun had broke the horizon, casting a shadow of Mt. Shasta across the Trinity Alps to the west.
Avalanche Gulch's steepness was impressive, sometimes pushing upwards of 32°.
When the others started slowing down I continued on the last bit ahead of them. The sun was getting higher and I wanted to take out my face coverings soon. It was only 3/4 of a mile but took us about 3 hours to do. We all dropped our gear at the top of Avalanche Gulch because the snow wasn't great past there on upper mountain. They needed extra time to recoup, and a bit more than I could spend so I headed on, walking on the glacier behind Red Banks.
After that it was a push up Misery Hill, still shrouded in wispy light fog.
Cresting over Misery Hill gave the first sign of the summit!
It was just a light push over a flat saddle and a small switchback to the peak. Here's a view looking down to the south at Mt Shastina while walking along that saddle to the true summit:
Actually reaching the peak was amazing. The accomplishment really set in and I made sure to sign the logbook.
The clouds hung around but would give way and show glimpses up to 100 mi away. Coming back down was a breeze despite the clouds starting to move in.
I stopped at my snowboard at the top of Red Banks to eat some food before writing down, but then I heard lightning off in the distance. There was a storm moving in from about 50 miles away and time to get off the mountain. The storm wasn't supposed to come in until that evening, but it was earlier than what the weather reports and rangers on mountain were expecting. Riding down on the snowboard was awesome! I was nervous at first, being the first skier or snowboarder to summit but also the first one down the gulch again.
The conditions were great, the snow had softened, and I got down within 15 minutes back to Lake Helen. Lots of people sliding glissading down were filming, would be nice to get those videos somehow.
Back at camp I packed everything up, and headed down to car. Riding the rest of the way down wasn't quite as enjoyable, all the snow downhill from there was moderately sun-cupped and you're riding over these craters similar to golf ball dimpling, but the dimples were about the size of dinner plates and about 6 to 8 in deep. With all the added weight on my back it was hard to ride well over the bad terrain, and I walked the last half mile after hitting the tree line. When I got back to the gear outfitters, they said someone radioed that my axe fell out of my pack on the way back. They said they wouldn't fine me for late/lost gear so I didn't bring up the tent size issue.

Overall it was a phenomenal and exhausting time, 10/10.