The Wintun-Hotlum route on Mt. Shasta. Click HERE to see our route.
Rich had such a good time during our last outing on Mt. Shasta, he decided he had to do it again and try to summit. Rob had some long-standing issues with the mountain, so he decided to come too.
Rob drove us up to the Brewer Creek trailhead, which provides the most direct access and a terrific ski run down the Wintun Glacier.
We decided to hike up to 10,000' in the evening, sleep somewhere in the moraines, and summit the next day.
The lower snowfields had more red algae than any of us had ever seen.
There was no snow at the trailhead at 7200', but by 8000'—right around the treeline—we were able to start skinning.
The snow was blooming with red algae, also known as "watermelon snow." We were stunned at the amount of algae—the snow was solid red in places. It stained our skins, our skis and our shirts, and left solid red trails wherever we skied.
As we were skinning up in the dark, Rich fell over, popping his sleeping bag out of its loops. It was too dark to see, but he could hear it zipping down the snowfield.
It was too late, too dark and the bag fell too far to go looking for it. Fortunately, I had some extra clothes and Rob had a bivy sack, so Rich decided to wear everything he could grab and suffer through the night without his bag.
We made it up to about 10,200' and found a nice little spot in the rocks to spend the night.
We woke to the sound of climbers clinking by in their crampons at 5:00. We decided to leave later, hoping the sun would soften the snow enough for us to skin.
Normally, you see very few people on the east side of Shasta, especially during mid-week. However, it was a hot, sunny weekend, and we saw about 15-20 skiers and climbers on the snowfield. Less than half made the summit.
The night was unusually warm with little wind, but it still got below freezing and Rich didn't get much sleep.
We took off at 7:00, hoping to skin up to 12,000', but we quickly had to switch to crampons because the snowfield was too firm and sun-cupped to skin.
Despite the firm snow, the day was extremely warm, especially on the lower slopes. You could have started climbing at 7:00, climbed to the summit, spent an hour on the summit and skied down—all in a T-shirt.
The climbing is low-angle up to 12,500'. A boot trail left by previous climbers makes it easy—just put your head down and go.
You see a lot of people wear themselves out by hiking a little bit and then stopping, hiking and stopping. The key is to get into a comfortable breathing pattern and keep going.
It also helps to not be susceptible to altitude sickness. I have more trouble with my stomach than anything else. It's usually not my heart or lungs that force me to slow down, but the prescence of "yack bubbles." I often have a hard time eating above 10,000'.
A woman was descending at the crossover at 12,500' when she broke through the snow up to her knee and got hung up in an awkward position. Rich ran up twenty feet to help her, and just that extra effort pushed his stomach over the edge. He spent every step the rest of the way to the summit trying not to barf.
Since we started late and it was a hot day, the snow had softened considerably by the time we got to the summit pitch. We began sinking in more and more, and the closer we got to the top the more we postholed.
It was the most effort I'd expended to get up Shasta. At times we were crawling on the snow because it was too soft to get a footing.
After way too much crawling and clambering, we finally made the summit. I quickly put my shell and a fleece on, only to find that there was absolutely no wind. It was stunning how warm it was.
Some climbers from the south side said that the day before a guy had been evacuated by helicopter from Helen Lake due to altitude sickness. Cost: $12,000.
I left some old Squaw Bucks in the register for my buddy Andy who died three years ago when he fell off a cliff at Mammoth. The last time I climbed Shasta was with him.
I wrote on the Squaw Bucks, "Redeem in Heaven."
Since the snow was so soft while we were climbing, we were expecting it to be super-punchy on the way down. However, we were suprised to find that we stayed on top all the way down—I didn't punch through once.
However, there were a lot of suncups and runnels, especially below 11,000'. The best time to ski Shasta is the middle of June, but due to the large snowpack the trailheads were snowed in back then.
The Wintun Glacier is a long, long run, partly because you have to stop often to catch your breath in the high altitude. Despite the suncups and runnels, it was still good skiing.
My camera took a crap at this point, so no more pictures. We skied back to our campsite to pick up our bags and extra clothes, and then skied a thousand feet of huge suncups, finding Rich's sleeping bag in the rocks about 800' down the fall line from where he dropped it the night before.
We got in another thousand feet of skiing on watermelon snow, finding a gully that dropped us down to about 7,700'.
It was a good trip, but it was also a good example of how timing is everything. If you can hit Shasta at just the right time you can get fantastic skiing with a lot less effort.
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