Broken Top

While many people out there were spending Valentine’s Day weekend exchanging roses and chocolates, I spent it with two dudes and one rugged bitch of a mountain. The eroded, jagged summit rim of Broken Top represents a distinct departure from the standard conical peaks of the Cascades. Sitting right next door to the Three Sisters, Broken Top is often an overlooked destination due to the long approach and concerning avalanche conditions during much of the winter. By spring, when avalanche concerns have subsided, the approach is equally long, but often without the benefit of a snow. The day after Valentine’s day, the snow, weather, and season all aligned to make an attempt at Broken Tops formidable crater. It did not disappoint.

The approach to Broken Top begins from the Dutchman Flat snowpark. From there, follow the rolling snowmobile track around four miles, staying West of Moon Mountain and Ball Butte. At you approach Ball Butte, continue heading NNW. You will be able to sight your line from the wide meadows you ski through as you approach. If you have a sled accessible to you, this approach can be completed in a fraction of the time it takes to skin…but where’s the fun in that?

Eventually you will exit the treeline, and the entire Broken Top crater will become visible. The routes on Broken Top are described in terms of numbers on a clock, with 12 O’Clock being the central peak in the crater. On the far lookers left, is a line called Pucker Up. The name appears to be appropriate given the apparent steepness at the top of the line. Our objective was to ski the gut of the crater, but I put a mental bookmark on Pucker Up, and hope to get back on it at some point soon.

The lower section of the crater is deceptively mellow compared to how it appears from far away. We smoothly ascended between the looker’s left wall, and the moraine that runs down the middle of the crater. While there are numerous skiable couloirs in Broken Top, we opted to climb and ski the most prominent line over the Crook Glacier—at around 2 o’clock on the Broken Top clock.  

Once we reached the base of the Crook Glacier, we put our skis on our packs and crampons on our feet. Sather climbed first, swiftly ascending toward the summit ridge. David and I slogged behind, doing our best to keep our footing on the progressively steeper slope.  I watch Sather approach the Summit Ridge. As he reached the top, he suddenly froze, before letting out a big whoop. “You could ride this ridge like a horse” he shouted down to us. I reached the ridge a few minutes later. As I peered toward the edge, all I saw was clear mountain air for thousands of feet below me. I am told there is often a platform on the summit ridge. However, recent winds had formed a precipitous and deceiving cornice along the ridge. After enjoying a brief surge of adrenalin, Sather and I descended below the ridge, to where we could comfortably transition from crampons to skis. David was without crampons that day, and he opted to stay lower.

The ski down was classic. While I have openly complained on this website and elsewhere about the marginal snow conditions we have experienced in Oregon this year, I can’t argue with a couple thousand feet of perfect corn snow. We skied one at a time down the Crook Glacier, and back to the base of the crater. From there, we traversed out over the skiers left moraine, and enjoy the low angle corn turns back into the trees. Like all things, the fun had to end at some point. Eventually we reached the flats, and reapplied our skins.

The four mile slog back to the car was a long one. Boot problems and exhaustion slowed me down even more. However, when we finally reached the car, I felt nothing but relief, and a serious hunger for a burrito and a cold beer.

I have to make it back to Broken Top. The concentration of beautiful, technical ski lines is impossible to ignore.  The perfect cure for a nearly snowless February.