OTHER Trip Report 07/08/2015

Report Type	Full
Peak(s)	Mt. Baker - 10781
Date Posted	07/08/2015
Date Climbed	07/04/2015
Author	AlexeyD

Independence Day on Mt. Baker
This 4th of July weekend, my wife Chelsea and I climbed Mt. Baker in Washington via the Coleman-Deming route. It was an extremely last-minute idea, inspired by a combination of superb weather, nostalgia for glacier-clad mountains, and a good airfare deal. We flew into Seattle Friday morning, summited early on the 4th, and were back in Colorado by Sunday night. The climb was a huge success in every way, and we can't wait to be back for more! Our plan was a (at this point almost trademark) hybrid of ambitious and indulgent. We would hike up to the Hogsback camp (~6000') on Friday afternoon, catch a few Zs, climb the 10,780' mountain early on the 4th, spend the rest of the day relaxing at camp and then hopefully watch the fireworks in the towns to the west, hike out on Sunday morning, enjoy some seafood in Bellingham, and go home. Of course, lux-mountaineering of this type doesn't come for free. Freeze-dried just doesn't cut it, and real wine bottles aren't exactly in the category of super-lightweight. But, short trips like one this one make this type of luxury manageable, and the extra effort is almost always worth it. After all, America's independence is worth a little celebration, right? We set out on the Heliotrope Ridge trail a little later than we had hoped: around 5 PM. It was among the most beautiful approaches we've ever done on any mountain, anywhere. The well-worn trail initially winds through magnificent old growth, passing several gorgeous waterfalls before climbing above treeline and onto spectacular, wildflower-filled meadows with drop-dead views of the looming white mass of Mt. Baker and its dazzling glaciers and icefalls. Once out of the trees, the trail climbs right along the spine of the old moraine known as the Hogsback, and, eventually, after a brief steep and loose section, deposits you abruptly at the base camp, right below a lobe of the Coleman Glacier. Being by far the last ones to arrive, we didn't have much choice in campsites - but the one available did not disappoint. The site sat at the very end of the moraine, and had a commanding view both of the mountain and the start of the route - including the obvious crevasses that would need to be negotiated almost immediately. Everything one needed - water, rocks for shelter, even snow for making a "fridge" for the perishables that we of course brought up - was readily available. A quick dinner of gorgonzola gnocci with a glass of rosé established the foundations of lux mode - but, for now, the climb and requisite alpine start still lay ahead, so it was bedtime. Start time was at 3 AM - just in time for moonrise. The route wastes no time getting going: we put on crampons and roped up 5 minutes out of the tent. As expected based on the view of the glacier the evening before, some crevasse-dodging was required pretty early on. In the dark, and in a half-awake state, this was a bit unnerving: one of the crevasses required a decent jump, and several involved teetering along a very narrow fin of ice between gaping chasms of darkness. But the snow was firm and supportive, despite the warm temperatures, and a prominent boot track soon ensued, following the somewhat steep but now smoother and more amenable glacier up to a large, flat basin below the Black Buttes. Here, the moon fully rose, and with the moonlight reflecting off the snow, it was light enough to turn our headlamps off! These were the kinds of things we'd been missing from the land of volcanoes and glaciers, and the usual post-alpine start grogginess was soon replaced with a feeling of mesmerized delight and appreciation for the privilege of getting to experience this surreal world. Lack of glaciers aside, living in Colorado has its advantages - especially on a mountain whose summit is lower than many of the trailheads you're used to starting from. The miles and vertical feet flew by like a breeze as we passed one party after the next that had started from the higher camp on the glacier below the Black Buttes. We were also motivated by a desire to get past the danger zone from the big icefall coming off Colfax Peak as quickly as possible - both on the way there, and back. Navigation wasn't an issue: while large crevasses lurked nearby from time to time, the prominent boot track weaved safely through them. There was only one instance where the track split, and one branch led to a collapsed snow branch; fortunately, the other made a quick end run around the crevasse, and rejoined the rest of the track shortly thereafter. We kept moving, and didn't stop for a break until the route climbed out onto the rocks of Pumice Ridge - more than 3000 feet of gain from base camp! (note: the exit onto the ridge requires climbing about 10 feet of loose third class: be careful here, as a number of what looks like solid holds are actually rather "portable"). Even with our quick pace, however, the sun was rapidly rising, and we were quickly on our way again. After the rather short section on Pumice Ridge, we arrived at the next - and final - obstacle on the route: the famous Roman Wall. In actuality, the Roman Wall is a cliff band extending across the upper part of the southern slopes of Mt. Baker, and the Coleman-Deming route goes up through one of several "breaches" in the wall. Quite honestly, it was a non-issue: the angle never exceeds 35 degrees (and is far less than that most of the time), and there was literally a staircase of boot tracks going up it. Once again, Colorado training paid off: after long, steep endurance-fests such as the Dead Dog, Tuning Fork, and Lamb's Slide, this felt like child's play. There were no crevasses evident on the slope itself (though there were plenty on the Deming Glacier below), but, since we were already roped up and were carrying pickets for crevasse rescue purposes, we decided to do a running belay for part of it - mostly just for practice. The snow couldn't have been more perfect for picket placements, and the "wall" was short enough that it didn't really slow us down all that much, so why figured, why not? A couple of laps of this, and we were past the short rock step, and soon found ourselves on the crater rim, with the summit just a quick walk away. Suddenly, this mountain felt almost too easy: where were the dreaded false summits, the featureless snowy flats that seem to go on forever, the rarified air of high elevations? Nope, this wasn't Mount Rainier...or even Quandary or Elbert in the winter. The summit was...right there, in front of us, just as it looked. But - no complaints! We spent about 10 minutes, basking in the morning sun that was finally warming everything up, and then remembered that the same sun was probably about to get to work on the icefalls and snow bridges en route, and we were on our way down again. For the descent of the Roman Wall, we elected to proceed unroped, as the risk of one of us accidentally pulling the other off balance due to a difference in pace seemed to outweigh any possible benefit in the event of an extremely unlikely crevasse fall. By now, the incredible ice-caked mass of Colfax Peak was in full sunlight, its broken-off glaciers revealing layers of accumulated snow from years past, like layers of a cake cut away with a giant knife. This view remained with us for a good part of the descent, and was absolutely mesmerizing: we had to make a conscious effort to not get distracted too much and lose our footing. Back on the Coleman Glacier, we roped back up and proceeded down, this time more wary of those occasional snow bridges, now obviously weakened by the increasingly hot Cascadian sun. Fortunately, all seemed to hold up fine, and there was no sign of anything coming off the ominous Colfax icefall - though we were surprised and perplexed to see a large group taking an extended break in what looked to us like dangerously close proximity to the looming seracs. We passed quickly through that area, and before long were back on the flatter glacier near the Black Buttes. With the greatest danger behind us, we were able to take a few moments and relax, taking in the magnificent scenery around us. There was definitely some sensory overload from being thrust so quickly into this incredible glacier environment, but it was a positive feeling: like something missing had been restored. We made our way down the final steep-ish glacial tongue where we had jumped crevasses in the dark the same morning, and were surprised at how tame and non-threatening this area now seemed (it also helped that we found an alternate boot track that avoided some of the hairier spots). And then - about 10 seemingly fleeting hours after our nighttime start - we were back at camp, enjoying the rest of the rosé while admiring the mountain - which we unanimously agreed to be the most beautiful Cascade volcano - we had just climbed. Lux-mode (napping in the sun, a delicious dinner, and Pinot) was now in full gear. Unfortunately, we had miscalculated about the fireworks: alas, the geography of the area is such that the only towns visible from camp are in Canada. Word to the wise: do the Coleman-Deming on July 1 -Canada's Independence Day - if you want to see fireworks! It was a very minor disappointment, though, and the magic of the whole experience more than made up for it. On Sunday morning, we were greeting at sunrise by the smell of smoke - a frequent occurrence in the Pacific Northwest this time of year. Not knowing where the fire was burning, or how fast it would spread, we quickly packed up camp and headed down. It later turned out that it was a small fire on one of the islands in Puget Sound - but, not having any way of knowing this, it seemed better to be safe than sorry. On the plus side, the smoke made for an absolutely surreal and stunning sunrise - and dissipated just in time to enjoy the rest of the hike out. Even the forest fire seemed to cooperate on this trip! Mt. Baker was many things...an incredibly beautiful mountain, a wonderful overall experience, and a reminder of what exactly it is that we love about mountaineering together. It was also validating to have an experience where what seemed like it should have been a long and difficult day actually felt remarkably casual and enjoyable. It made us appreciate living in Colorado and having the unparalleled year-round access to the mountains that we do all the more - and yes also remember that, once in a while, it's great to get out and experience something a little different. Thanks for reading...and happy adventures, wherever they may take you! Thumbnails for uploaded photos (click to open slideshow):

Independence Day on Mt. Baker

This 4th of July weekend, my wife Chelsea and I climbed Mt. Baker in Washington via the Coleman-Deming route. It was an extremely last-minute idea, inspired by a combination of superb weather, nostalgia for glacier-clad mountains, and a good airfare deal. We flew into Seattle Friday morning, summited early on the 4th, and were back in Colorado by Sunday night. The climb was a huge success in every way, and we can't wait to be back for more!

Our plan was a (at this point almost trademark) hybrid of ambitious and indulgent. We would hike up to the Hogsback camp (~6000') on Friday afternoon, catch a few Zs, climb the 10,780' mountain early on the 4th, spend the rest of the day relaxing at camp and then hopefully watch the fireworks in the towns to the west, hike out on Sunday morning, enjoy some seafood in Bellingham, and go home. Of course, lux-mountaineering of this type doesn't come for free. Freeze-dried just doesn't cut it, and real wine bottles aren't exactly in the category of super-lightweight. But, short trips like one this one make this type of luxury manageable, and the extra effort is almost always worth it. After all, America's independence is worth a little celebration, right?

We set out on the Heliotrope Ridge trail a little later than we had hoped: around 5 PM. It was among the most beautiful approaches we've ever done on any mountain, anywhere. The well-worn trail initially winds through magnificent old growth, passing several gorgeous waterfalls before climbing above treeline and onto spectacular, wildflower-filled meadows with drop-dead views of the looming white mass of Mt. Baker and its dazzling glaciers and icefalls.

Once out of the trees, the trail climbs right along the spine of the old moraine known as the Hogsback, and, eventually, after a brief steep and loose section, deposits you abruptly at the base camp, right below a lobe of the Coleman Glacier. Being by far the last ones to arrive, we didn't have much choice in campsites - but the one available did not disappoint.

The site sat at the very end of the moraine, and had a commanding view both of the mountain and the start of the route - including the obvious crevasses that would need to be negotiated almost immediately.

Everything one needed - water, rocks for shelter, even snow for making a "fridge" for the perishables that we of course brought up - was readily available. A quick dinner of gorgonzola gnocci with a glass of rosé established the foundations of lux mode - but, for now, the climb and requisite alpine start still lay ahead, so it was bedtime.

Start time was at 3 AM - just in time for moonrise. The route wastes no time getting going: we put on crampons and roped up 5 minutes out of the tent. As expected based on the view of the glacier the evening before, some crevasse-dodging was required pretty early on. In the dark, and in a half-awake state, this was a bit unnerving: one of the crevasses required a decent jump, and several involved teetering along a very narrow fin of ice between gaping chasms of darkness. But the snow was firm and supportive, despite the warm temperatures, and a prominent boot track soon ensued, following the somewhat steep but now smoother and more amenable glacier up to a large, flat basin below the Black Buttes. Here, the moon fully rose, and with the moonlight reflecting off the snow, it was light enough to turn our headlamps off! These were the kinds of things we'd been missing from the land of volcanoes and glaciers, and the usual post-alpine start grogginess was soon replaced with a feeling of mesmerized delight and appreciation for the privilege of getting to experience this surreal world.

Lack of glaciers aside, living in Colorado has its advantages - especially on a mountain whose summit is lower than many of the trailheads you're used to starting from. The miles and vertical feet flew by like a breeze as we passed one party after the next that had started from the higher camp on the glacier below the Black Buttes. We were also motivated by a desire to get past the danger zone from the big icefall coming off Colfax Peak as quickly as possible - both on the way there, and back. Navigation wasn't an issue: while large crevasses lurked nearby from time to time, the prominent boot track weaved safely through them. There was only one instance where the track split, and one branch led to a collapsed snow branch; fortunately, the other made a quick end run around the crevasse, and rejoined the rest of the track shortly thereafter. We kept moving, and didn't stop for a break until the route climbed out onto the rocks of Pumice Ridge - more than 3000 feet of gain from base camp! (note: the exit onto the ridge requires climbing about 10 feet of loose third class: be careful here, as a number of what looks like solid holds are actually rather "portable"). Even with our quick pace, however, the sun was rapidly rising, and we were quickly on our way again.

After the rather short section on Pumice Ridge, we arrived at the next - and final - obstacle on the route: the famous Roman Wall. In actuality, the Roman Wall is a cliff band extending across the upper part of the southern slopes of Mt. Baker, and the Coleman-Deming route goes up through one of several "breaches" in the wall. Quite honestly, it was a non-issue: the angle never exceeds 35 degrees (and is far less than that most of the time), and there was literally a staircase of boot tracks going up it.

Once again, Colorado training paid off: after long, steep endurance-fests such as the Dead Dog, Tuning Fork, and Lamb's Slide, this felt like child's play. There were no crevasses evident on the slope itself (though there were plenty on the Deming Glacier below), but, since we were already roped up and were carrying pickets for crevasse rescue purposes, we decided to do a running belay for part of it - mostly just for practice. The snow couldn't have been more perfect for picket placements, and the "wall" was short enough that it didn't really slow us down all that much, so why figured, why not?

A couple of laps of this, and we were past the short rock step, and soon found ourselves on the crater rim, with the summit just a quick walk away.

Suddenly, this mountain felt almost too easy: where were the dreaded false summits, the featureless snowy flats that seem to go on forever, the rarified air of high elevations?

Nope, this wasn't Mount Rainier...or even Quandary or Elbert in the winter. The summit was...right there, in front of us, just as it looked. But - no complaints! We spent about 10 minutes, basking in the morning sun that was finally warming everything up, and then remembered that the same sun was probably about to get to work on the icefalls and snow bridges en route, and we were on our way down again.

For the descent of the Roman Wall, we elected to proceed unroped, as the risk of one of us accidentally pulling the other off balance due to a difference in pace seemed to outweigh any possible benefit in the event of an extremely unlikely crevasse fall.

By now, the incredible ice-caked mass of Colfax Peak was in full sunlight, its broken-off glaciers revealing layers of accumulated snow from years past, like layers of a cake cut away with a giant knife. This view remained with us for a good part of the descent, and was absolutely mesmerizing: we had to make a conscious effort to not get distracted too much and lose our footing.

Back on the Coleman Glacier, we roped back up and proceeded down, this time more wary of those occasional snow bridges, now obviously weakened by the increasingly hot Cascadian sun. Fortunately, all seemed to hold up fine, and there was no sign of anything coming off the ominous Colfax icefall - though we were surprised and perplexed to see a large group taking an extended break in what looked to us like dangerously close proximity to the looming seracs.

We passed quickly through that area, and before long were back on the flatter glacier near the Black Buttes.

With the greatest danger behind us, we were able to take a few moments and relax, taking in the magnificent scenery around us.

There was definitely some sensory overload from being thrust so quickly into this incredible glacier environment, but it was a positive feeling: like something missing had been restored. We made our way down the final steep-ish glacial tongue where we had jumped crevasses in the dark the same morning, and were surprised at how tame and non-threatening this area now seemed (it also helped that we found an alternate boot track that avoided some of the hairier spots). And then - about 10 seemingly fleeting hours after our nighttime start - we were back at camp, enjoying the rest of the rosé while admiring the mountain - which we unanimously agreed to be the most beautiful Cascade volcano - we had just climbed. Lux-mode (napping in the sun, a delicious dinner, and Pinot) was now in full gear. Unfortunately, we had miscalculated about the fireworks: alas, the geography of the area is such that the only towns visible from camp are in Canada. Word to the wise: do the Coleman-Deming on July 1 -Canada's Independence Day - if you want to see fireworks! It was a very minor disappointment, though, and the magic of the whole experience more than made up for it.

On Sunday morning, we were greeting at sunrise by the smell of smoke - a frequent occurrence in the Pacific Northwest this time of year. Not knowing where the fire was burning, or how fast it would spread, we quickly packed up camp and headed down. It later turned out that it was a small fire on one of the islands in Puget Sound - but, not having any way of knowing this, it seemed better to be safe than sorry. On the plus side, the smoke made for an absolutely surreal and stunning sunrise - and dissipated just in time to enjoy the rest of the hike out. Even the forest fire seemed to cooperate on this trip!

Mt. Baker was many things...an incredibly beautiful mountain, a wonderful overall experience, and a reminder of what exactly it is that we love about mountaineering together. It was also validating to have an experience where what seemed like it should have been a long and difficult day actually felt remarkably casual and enjoyable. It made us appreciate living in Colorado and having the unparalleled year-round access to the mountains that we do all the more - and yes also remember that, once in a while, it's great to get out and experience something a little different. Thanks for reading...and happy adventures, wherever they may take you!

Thumbnails for uploaded photos (click to open slideshow):

Comments or Questions

ChrisinAZ	spectacular 7/8/2015 6:25pm Great tr, great pictures, and way to climb it in style! I only want to climb Baker all the more after reading this...
Dave B	Baker’s a beut 7/9/2015 7:27am Nice TR. Looks like an awesome trip and it’s nice to have success like that on such a short trip.
Aubrey	Nice! 7/9/2015 4:47pm Glad to hear you had a great time on Kulshan! I like your Lux style. Nice work on the climb, beautiful photos, and great job on your first trip report. I think you just missed the worst of the wildfire smoke. For the past few days, Bellingham has been smoked out from the wildfire near Whistler, British Columbia (as well as some smaller ones in the area). It seems like it’s getting better now, but it’s still hazy. Makes for good photos, but not good for climbing lungs!
I Man	Very cool! 7/9/2015 6:32pm Baker looks sweet. Nice work pulling off a last minute adventure. Glaciers are amazing.
Zambo	Those seracs! 7/10/2015 11:18am Look awesome. Also scary! :shock:
mountainute	Great Climb 2/29/2016 10:39pm Hey Alexey, great climb and great report! Awesome weather and cool pix.

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