Ever since I moved to Portland, I’ve been in a sort of awe towards the most iconic landmark that illuminates the city: Mt. Hood. It is a mountain many try to conquer, many fail and some die. It seems to be one of those mountains that has a sort of sass, not really giving a shit about people climbing it. By contrast, Mt St. Helens which I’ve climbed twice is more docile, the practice pony. Just this past winter/spring, I’ve been on Hood, once on the North side, once on the South side. Both times I had to battle through 40 +mph winds and a mixture of snow, drizzle with nearly blinding conditions. The Mountain is like a shapeshifter – it is never the same climb, no matter how many times you climb it. There are so many factors: snow conditions, weather, temperature, cloud cover, sun, the group you climb with, equipment, weight of your pack, people who may be climbing it nearby you, strength of sulfur smell, moonlight or the lack thereof, and the list goes on!
This past weekend (May 9th), I think I probably had the best combination of factors on my climb. Mild wind, great company, not too cold, good equipment. It was a life experience, one that I will look proudly back on, and am still reminded every minute by sharp quad soreness when I stand up or sit down. There were times I wish I was in my warm bed instead of following the footsteps of the person directly in front of me in the pitch dark. Getting closer to Hell’s Kitchen, the sulfur smell made me nauseated, something I had to push through, trying not to be affected like the guy behind us who probably retched up his entire dinner through loud, horrible heaves. We had to keep drinking and eating throughout, even though going to the bathroom up in the alpine environment was less than ideal.
The last trek up Mazama Chute was one of the most fun thing I experienced as we made our way up, the sky turned from dark to dawn, light pouring onto the landscape with amazing speed. Step by step as we ascended to the top, lungs taxed by the lack of oxygen, it was an experience I am glad I went through. Not only did I get to understand myself better, but now have a much higher respect for Portland’s volcano.
Let the pictures speak for themselves…