Mt. Shasta 14,179 feet

Mt. Shasta: Fifth largest Peak in California*
Summit Fever Challenge 2014
3rd Summit
June 17, 2014
By Stefanie Notte

Well, well, well.  I seem to be making a habit of soloing up mountains these days.  Mt. Shasta is by far one of the most technically challenging adventures I've endured to date.  The summit is not some crazy amount of distance, only 11 miles round trip, but there is a gain of over 7000 feet of elevation which was done mostly in crampons.  That was an experience in itself!  This gorgeous mountain is ranked a Class 3 (or a 2+ depending on the source) and is the 2nd largest mountain of the Cascade Range, coming in only behind Mt. Rainier (14,411 ft).

Mt Shasta 

So real quick, to premise the Summit Fever Challenge, my plan is to summit all of the California 14ers this summer, finishing off with the full JMT approach from YNP to Mt. Whitney (14,508 ft), the highest peak in the contiguous United States (and the only 14er I've summited before this year).  I'm not sure where this love of climbing mountains came from, but for those who think this is extreme or crazy, or even worse: unattainable for themselves, IT'S NOT!  Anyone can do it, it's just one foot in front of the other, with the most rewarding feeling at the top.  You've heard of a "runner's high" before, right?  Summiting is orgasmic compared to that.  There really are no other words to describe it.

condensing of gear 

the gear 

At the gear shop in town, The Fifth Season Mt. Shasta (and the only place to rent crampons), the guy told me to start early, like at midnight, because it takes 4-5 hours to Helen Lake and then another 4-5 hours to the summit via Bunny Flat -->Avalanche Gulch.  I started my climb at 1:30am from Bunny Flat (6,950 ft).  It was 33 degrees outside,  and was a quick and easy trek to Horse Camp (1.7 miles in and 7900 ft) and I was amazed to see people camping here.  At 2:20am, I strolled by these campers whom were all awake and freezing their butts off in the middle of the night.  Yikes.

There is something to be said about hiking in the dark, it's pretty awesome.  All you have is your uni-beam of light and nothing to look at except for the ground. Well, in this case, the "honeymoon" from Friday the 13th was still bright as ever and the sparkling stars were gorgeous,  but every time  I looked up, I seemed to have tripped over a rock.  This is not uncommon even when I'm looking down.  The other benefit of trekking in the dark is that you cover miles of terrain and gain some pretty serious elevation without really noticing.  And if you are on an "out and back" hike, you have something to look forward to on your way to the car, aside from getting to the car itself!

And this is worth a quick mention: Mt. Shasta is a "pack out your poo" mountain.  They provide bags at the trailhead that consist of 1) a somewhat large piece of paper with a bullseye on it, specifying to aim your poo in the center, 2) two lunch sized paper bags with some kitty litter in them which you are supposed to place your folded up poo paper in, and double bag it--yes, in paper bags, and 3) a thin Ziploc-esque bag that the double bagged, kitty litter poo target goes in.  It may be TMI but I naturally suffer from "poo anxiety" and well, simply put, if it doesn't feel right, it's not happening.  This may be one of the few times my poo anxiety worked in my favor.

My next destination was Helen Lake (10,443 ft) and I walked clear passed it without noticing.... This was where my first planned break was supposed to be, however, there was no point in stopping now since the hose to my (full) 3 liter Camelbak was frozen solid and the wind was starting to get out of control. And, don't let it deceive you, you can't see the lake! Instead, there's a bunch of bunkers in the snow for tent camping, probably set up around said lake. I noticed this camp when I was maybe at 11,000 ft, when the sun was starting to illuminate the sky: just before 5am.

Helen Lake

Red Banks 

Be prepared for some serious elevation gain after Helen (no) Lake.  It is steep and straight up (no switchbacks!).  This is probably normal for climbing on glacial mountains but it t'was a first for me. This is also where I geared up: helmet, crampons, and ice axe.  I actually did saw falling rocks, and if a rock was lucky enough to hit a giant boulder, it would explode!  I'm not a physics major, so I can't say exactly how fast they were charging down the mountain, but let me tell you, your helmet may not prevent them from knocking you out. Anyway, once the sky lit up I could see the Red Banks (about 12,800 ft).  There are chutes between these volcanic rock formations and the one to take is to the furthest left.  This is important.  I honestly didn't know how steep this chute was until the descent, but from the beta I gathered at the gear shop, this is the chute to take since the others are quite a bit more dangerous.

The chute, incredible rock formations 

in the chimney itself, looking up 

top of the chute, looking down

After gaining the Red Banks, you get to the base of Misery Hill.  Jeez, what kind of name is that?  I arrived here at 8:28am, and this is where I took my first real break.  I ate a frozen apple (it was gross, but was my only source of water for the last 5 or so hours), and a Clif Bar which was so hard it felt like my teeth were going to shatter.  I don't think I've emphasized enough how cold I was: without the wind, I was perfectly layered up: three up top, two on bottom, a Buff for my face, and a hat and gloves.  With the wind, I thought I was going to die.  The gusts were easily 60+ mph and made me quite unsteady, actually pushing me around.  It was soooo cold.  And, I HATE WIND! The few pictures I took were with my Canon Power Shot camera (not the trusty iPhone 4) since I could leave my gloves on when snapping a pic.  The instant I took one glove off (couldn't get the damn cap off of the chapstick) my fingers went blue and took an eternity to warm up.  Oh, and once you are here, the wind never dies down. I was completely exposed to all the elements from being on a plateau, but looking on the bright side, there was awesome view of Lassen Peak (10,463 ft) due south.

Moving along, after gaining the 3000 ft of elevation from the lake,  and moseying up the next section, I decided Misery Hill should be renamed The Red Carpet.  This was the last major elevation gain before the summit push and was not nearly as direct of a climb as those last few hours (welcome back, switchbacks!).  The top of the hill is about 13,840 ft and once you are here it's less than an hour to the summit with only a mere 500 feet (elevation) to go.

the summit 

At 10:00 am, I reached the summit of Mt. Shasta!  This was my third 14er of the year and damn, I felt GREAT!  I was the 3rd person of the day to reach the summit, the first guy literally ran in his crampons (who does that?) and the second person was Uncle Pat.  Okay, so this is crazy: Uncle Pat asked me where I was from, and I said SLO.  He told me he has a niece studying nutrition at Cal Poly, and I'm like whaaaaaaat?!  It turns out I knew her, she was my lab partner in my first nutrition class at CP and we have been in multiple classes together since.  Totally random, right?  It was Uncle Pat's birthday and his 20th time summiting this beast.  He's a star.

the summit

Uncle Pat and me 

Next on the agenda was the descent.  Usually, this is where I would skip to the end of the story because the way down is usually boring and uneventful... however, not here on Shasta!  There is basically a slide down the mountain where these crazy alpinists just commit and glissade down. Being that it was such a cold day, the slide down the mountain was almost too dangerous to take, in my humble opinion. As I was descending with Uncle Pat and his two friends, they totally charged it, glissading at a speed I could not even fathom.  That is, until self arresting became a reality for one of the guys, and maybe there was some blood shed.  It was terrifying to slide down here, too fast, too steep.  I entertained it a few times, and then just had to descend the normal boring way... walking. Ah, bummer, it would have shaved off over an hour of hiking down in the ankle-busting crampons that were starting to cramp my style.

descending the Mt. Shasta way

It wasn't until after Helen Lake where glissading was a possibility for me; I descended more than 1500 ft of elevation sliding down Shasta on my butt.  It was almost worth going back up to do it again, it was so fun!  But, unfortunately, my new Lowa mountaineering boots left an amazingly huge blister on the back of my right heel otherwise I would have contemplated it.

As I was rolling through Horse Camp I looked as though I was "ridden hard and put away wet:" limping from the hole in the back of my foot, wearing all of my layers because I was too lazy to carry them, and swinging my ice axe because it was fun.  There were lots of people here now, and this little eight year old girl whispered to the grown up to her left, "look Mom, she's a mountain climber!"  Whoa, hold up! Little did this girl know she just made my day.  A mountain climber, huh?  I never considered myself one before, my only previous assessment of a mountain climber was on The Price Is Right, you know, that game with the yodeling dude who falls off the ledge because you don't know the price of a gallon of Purell Hand Sanitizer?  But shit, she's right, I AM a mountain climber!  I like that.

8 year olds, Dude.

Dear Mt. Shasta, you are a phenomenal mountain.  Out of the three major peaks I've bagged this year, you are the one that I can't wait to climb again.  I loved the new challenges you provided me, even though your burly winds were totally unnecessary.  I cannot wait to come back.

This trip started at 1:30am and ended at 4:00pm.

*more than 300 ft prominence
sources:
 http://www.summitpost.org/avalanche-gulch/155406
 http://timberlinetrails.net/ShastaMain.html