Throwback Thursday – Mt. Adams

It’s been balmy and pouring rain in Portland. I can’t help but think of what an epic storm this would have been, had temperatures been a few (20) degrees cooler. Nonetheless, the cold front is forecasted to move in any minute now, and snow is expected to fall in the mountains. As I was sitting by my powder skis, pining for face shots, I was reminded that ski season in Oregon is more than just early season dumps. The late season is often the best. While most of my top runs of all time involve deep, dry powder snow, one of the best was on corn snow on Mt. Adams. So, after an unfortunately long hiatus, the Kickturner is back with a throwback Thursday.

I skied the Southwest Chutes of Mt. Adams on June 7, 2014. Much has been written about the Southwest Chutes, but they are worthy of all praise. The climb is a little bit of a slog. The standard route is typically crowded. The false summit can be a total buzz kill. But the ski down is truly world class.

The Southwest Chutes extend from the False Summit of Mt. Adams, all the way down to treeline – a total of nearly 4500 vertical feet. They maintain a pitch of at least 35 degrees, and most of the run is nearly 40 degrees. It is the type of run where on a good snow day, the skiing is pure heaven. It is the all-you-can-eat buffet of corn snow. On an icy day, I imagine the southwest chutes would be terrifying – nothing but air and a couple thousand feet of steep ice between you and the tree line below.

Mt. Adams and the Southwest Chutes

We began or ascent at around 4:00 a.m. and reached the snowline just below tree line. The route was easy to follow given the hundred of boot tracks leading up the mountain. The first couple thousand feet of Mt. Adams are ascended gradually, and we made good time up to “lunch counter” – a long plateau that extends off the south side of the mountain. (While some climbers prefer to camp here before their summit push, as a skier, camping at lunch counter does you no favors – the southwest chutes deposit you below lunch counter, and you would have to climb back up to retrieve your overnight gear.)

Early morning slog

Past lunch counter is a deceptively long and steep climb to the false summit. This can be the most dangerous part of the climb, given the line of zombies rest stepping their way up the well-worn bootpack. A fall from a single climber above could create a domino effect. I opted to skin up this section, using a melted out and frozen over skin track left by a previous skier. With my 60mm waisted skis, I was able to get purchase on the frozen snow.  This is prime ski crampon territory.

Gordy and Mt. Hood 

The group finally reached the false summit, crossed the plateau, and made our final ascent to the summit. The view is breathtaking. To the North, Mt. Rainier sat regally among the clouds and green hills that surround her. To the South, one could see Mt. Hood’s iconic shape, and much of the Oregon Cascades. Mt. St. Helens stood quietly to the West.

Gordy on the summit with Mr. Rainier 

The ski off the summit was unremarkable. Frozen snow and post-holes formed the surface down to the plateau. There was an east facing aspect that looked softer and more appealing, but it was steep and the fall-line would deposit a falling skier right into a crevasse. We decided that despite the low risk of a fall on that slope, the high consequences were enough to stay on the safer, icier aspect.

Paul drops in on the SW Chutes

We lounged and napped on the false summit until around 1:00 pm. The wind on top was cold and the snow was hard. However, we could see the lower stretches of the Southwest Chutes slowly beginning to thaw. Not able to wait any longer, we decided to go for it.

Paul opening it up on the lower mountain.

I’ve never skied anything quite like the Southwest Chutes. It is reminiscent of Avalanche Gulch on Mt. Shasta, but steeper and more sustained. The run just goes on forever and ever. You keep skiing, but the bottom doesn’t get any closer. The corn was perfect. It was a dream.

Gordy skiing the hot corn on the low mountain

From the bottom of the chutes, work your way right until you get below the rocks that line the skiers left of the chute. From there, traverse back to the main climbers route, descend to the car, and get beers in Hood River.

In all their glory. 

Even as we approach the depths of winter and the deepest of powder days, I’m catching myself looking forward to spring. Hopefully that will change with what I hope to be my first powder turns in the state of Oregon for nearly a year.