Mt. Adams, North Face Northwest Ridge Ski

Dave had been drooling ever since I scraped my way down the NFNWR two weeks ago. Considering the high epic factor present on that trip, I was game for a rematch. We would have gone last weekend, but the weathermen forecast a monsoon, so Dave joined Amar and drove down to Shasta for some miserable suncup and runnel skiing. Meanwhile, I joined the Hummels, Troy Manfredi, and Justin on a quick jaunt up to Camp Muir. We got Justin on skis for the first time, providing some entertainment. We'd better watch out, though, once he gets some shorter skis and real bindings (not tele), he'll be ripping it up. Either way, during the boring slog I was continually kicking myself for not heading to Adams, as the sun was out and I could see the north side clearly.

Ben Kaufman had expressed some interest in coming along, but in the end he never showed up. So it was Dave and I who left Seattle Sunday morning, arriving at the Killen Creek Trailhead in the early afternoon. We packed our skis and boot on our backs, and noticed two fellows doing the same. We learned that one of them was planning on skiing the NFNWR solo the next day, so we introduced ourselves to Bob and John. These two were apparently on a week-long volcano tour. Both had lived in Washington a while back, but apparently had never spent much time on the volcanoes. Now they're based out of Juneau, AK, where they get to ski every day after work. After some chatting, we headed up the trail.

Adams from the meadows. This side of the mountain is stunningly beautiful.

Since we didn't take crampons, rope, axes, or bivy sacks, our packs were relatively light, and we made excellent time up the trail. A lot of snow has melted in the past two weeks; it was spotty all the way up to camp. We took a short break and some photos when we hit the meadows, and got to camp in two hours. We idly discussed moving up to the lake on the moraine, but the lazyness factor kicked in, and we didn't move. Besides, the krumholtz camp is so idyllic, why try to improve upon perfection?

Camp, exact same site as last trip.

Sunset. I can't get too much of this view.

Bob and John showed up a while later, and they opted to camp just uphill of us. We whiled the hours away chatting, then headed to a steep, 400 foot snowfield that offered several nice runs on fanstastic corn. We agreed upon a plan for the next day; Bob, Dave, and I would leave camp around 7 and start our ski at 2pm or so, while John would keep watch over their beers at camp. The next morning Dave and I headed up at 7am, trying to catch Bob, who had left twenty minutes ahead of us. We followed him around the lake, where the frozen corn made travel in tennis shoes interesting. We caught him on the moraine slog that brought us to the north ridge proper. Most of the snow had melted, so tennies were definitely the best option.

Here's our line, from the North Ridge.
We traversed onto the glacier beneath the big serac.
Roll your mouse over the image to see our line.

Bob and Dave on the North Ridge.

The West Summit from the summit plateau. The NFNWR follows the right horizon.

We took a relaxed pace up the ridge, since we weren't planning on skiing before 2 anyway. Bob kept us entertained with many stories of climbs and skis both in Washington and Alaska. We made a good team, with all three of us maintaining a very similar pace. Dave was a bit hesitant on the few short exposed downclimbs on the ridge, but soon became used to the loose rock and scree. We hit snow about 1000 feet below the ice cap, so we changed into ski boots and continued the slog, ignoring the true summit, making it to the West Summit by 1:30. We sat on the summit until we got too cold from the wind, whence we clicked into bindings and made a few turns off the summit. We got to the top of the first steep roll, where, being in the lead, I found the nastiest 'snow' I've ever encountered. It was a tasty mix somewhere between rime ice, neve penitentes, and sastrugi. Whatever you want to call it, traversing the stuff to get to the corn below was extremely sketchy. Bob, the strongest skier in our group, caught a tip and butt-checked. But it wasn't dangerous, the slope became lower angled below the traverse, and the nasty snow gave way to rough corn. We skied a few more hundred feet and decided that the snow would benefit from more sun, so we traversed to the crest of the NW ridge proper, and sat in the sun for half an hour.

This was the nasty traverse. You can see how rough the 'snow' was.

Bob, beneath the ice traverse. No worries, the face gets a LOT steeper farther down.

After a while my chronic skiing itch kicked in, and we decided to move. Another ten minutes of skiing on nice corn on ever-steeper slopes brought us to the top of the rockband that divides the face top-to-bottom. Here we opted for another half-hour snow-softening break. Writing this, I am kicking myself that I didn't take a photo from the security of the rockband, but I was too damn eager and skied off ahead of Dave and Bob. Bill Frans' excellent TR is here. The sixth photo down shows Sam Avaiusini near the top of the rockband. The slope became steeper, edging its way towards the 45 degrees that brings you through the chute linking the upper and lower faces. Controlled hop turns brought us above the gap. I decided that descretion is the better part of valor as I slideslipped through the gap. Once through the short gap I felt more confident, and made several more turns into the middle of the face. Bob happily hopped turns through the gap, while Dave opted for the next line over, since Bob and I had scraped most of the corn off the main chutelet. We regrouped on the lower face, where the snow was beginning to soften into mush. Bob led us onto the Adams, following the exact line that Jim and I had traversed two weeks ago. The crevasses were larger and the slope was steeper, but a quick straightline took us onto the glacier proper. The scenery was spectacular, with a multitude of large seracs, and nice forgiving snow. We skied down to the flats, where we stopped to gape and revel in the moment. To say I was stoked would be an understatement.

Dave, beneath the seracs guarding the NFNWR.

Dave and Bob on the lower Adams Glacier.

Ditto. NFNWR straight up the center. Holy shit.

The rest of the ski wasn't really worth noting. The snow wasn't nearly as sticky as I would have expected, so some painless figure 11s brought us to the lake. A short carry over the rock and we skied the rapidly melting snow finger down to camp where John was waiting. We wasted some time at camp just staring at the face, but eventually we managed to get up and pack. We caught up with Bob and John somewhere on the trail, and soon we were at the cars.