Left LA around 9 or so to begin the long 9 hour drive to the city of Mt. Shasta. Made the drive in good time, arriving around 6 or so. After stopping by to check conditions at the 5th Season, we went to get our permits. The weather was unsettled, with periods of rain and snow as we were getting our errands done in town. On the mountain, fresh snow on a consolidated layer of old ice had apparently made the avalanche risk too high in our intended route of Avalanche Gully. After getting our permits we went to find a hotel for the night, stopping briefly at the Econo-lodge before settling on the Mt. Aire Lodge. After a hearty Italian meal we headed off to sleep. Awake the next morning early, we grabbed some breakfast at the Black Bear diner and then headed up the mountain. It had stopped snowing, but was still bitterly cold. A layer of fresh snow coated the road, and when we pulled into Bunny Flat, we were one of three cars in the parking lot. The trail to Horse Camp was snowed over but we were overtaken by skiers on skins and ended up taking their trail. As we climbed up the ridge, the temperatures continued to drop, and by the time we got to the first window at 9,500 or so, it was damn cold. From there we continued up to 10,500 to set up camp. At around 5 or so, the wind picked up with continuous speeds of 50 or so with gusts to over 80. Pitching the tent was interesting. Trying to melt snow was a chore with the constant wind and the waves of spindrift pouring over us, even in the vestibule. My partner was looking decidedly shitty, and crashed after taking some acetazolamide. Our summit attempt the next day looked doubtful if the frigid temperatures and winds kept up. It was bitterly cold that evening. It's hard to overestimate how cold it was. The next day I awoke at 3, but listening to the wind and driving snow, went back to sleep, convinced it would be difficult to make the summit in these conditions. At 6 or so we got up, the wind still blowing, but we crawled out to make some breakfast. After a liesurely meal, we decided to see what the conditions above were like. We left camp around 9 or so and headed up Casaval Ridge. The high winds had blown most of the fresh snow off the route, leaving only firm, consolidated snow. We made fast progress, and after passing through the first rock band at around 12,000, we decided to go for the summit. My partner was beginning to lag a bit, but we still were on schedule to reach the top by 2 or so. After the going second band, going up the headwall, he slowed down even more, and despite trying to wait at the top of the headwall, I was freezing. Gesturing to him I was cold and needed to keep moving, I traversed across the north slope above the headwall then headed down to the col at the foot of Misery Hill. The entire summit plateau was coated with rime and neve, a bizarre moonscape blasted by ferocious winds. Slowly inching up Misery Hill, I looked back to make sure my partner had made it up to the summit plateau. After cresting the hill, I made my way across the relatively flat (though insidiously upsloping) platform to the final summit. The climb up to the summit was slow, the fumes from the nearby sulfur springs choking me as I clambered up slopes covered with fern shaped ice formations created by the fierce wind. At last, I reached to summit, jotted our names in the summit register and climbed the final few feet to the summit block. The view was beautiful, though I could only see the tops of the clouds below us. After nearly being blown off the narrow summit as I tried to take a self portrait, I hurried down to where my partner was waiting. Apparently he was been too tired to make the final push up Misery Hill and had waited for me there. Cold and tired, we made our way down Casaval Ridge, punctuating the descent with glissades. We reached camp around 5, the winds finally settling down. We melted snow, cooked dinner, and enjoyed the beautiful weather, falling asleep at 8. The next morning, we packed up camp and hiked out, meeting hordes of climbers beginning their climbs. We hadn't seen a soul in 3 days and were glad to be leaving before the crowds showed up for the weekend.
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California Cascades
