Shasta.

Months of training and planning finally came to head on Thursday night. Shasta summit attempt weekend had arrived! Packing was complete. List was checked and re-checked. I was 90% excited and 10% scared… or was it the other way around…

Jeremy, a fellow adventure/travel seeker, had decided to join Team Adventure on this crazy endeavour. We had not trained with him, however, I had no doubts about his ability to kick ass based on his past activities, such as running marathons and climbing Kilimanjaro.

We decided to leave our apartment in Belmont at 5pm on Thursday in order to get to the Bunny Flat trailhead before midnight. And of, course, I was running late. Some last minute things came up at work, so I wasn’t able to leave until 4:30pm, which, of course, put us behind schedule.

I arrived home at 4:50pm and the car was already packed. I quickly looked at my checklist to make sure I had everything. There was no time to double check, even though Brian told me more than once to slow down and think clearly. I rushed, which I should not have done. Luckily, before we actually left the apartment, I realized I hadn’t packed my hiking socks, which would have resulted in a bad day. I had a second pair of skiing socks as a backup, but they are called a backup for a reason. Add that to the list of things I will do differently if there is another trip like this. Buy two pairs of the GOOD socks. No DUH!

6 hours and a stop at Subway later, we had arrived. Bunny Flat. It was still covered in snow.. I wouldn’t say 4 feet. More like 2, but there were patches of dirt showing through. After some talk of sleeping in the car, we decided it just wouldn’t work with 3 people, so we set up camp in a patch of dirt in the snow. Got inside our tent and into my comfy 15 degree down sleeping bad. Let me tell you… BEST INVESTMENT EVAR! Seriously. I did cry a little when I saw the price tag on it, but it’s worth EVERY penny. Not only is it waterproof, and rated at 15 degrees, but it also packs down to a very manageable size for backpacking. Hooray!

Night 1: Though warm in the beginning of the night, I was not able to get more than an hour or two of sleep. I’m not sure if it was nerves, the cold, or a combination of both, but I just could not stay asleep. I woke up numerous times because my nose was so cold. I ended up synching down the sleeping bag so only my nose was exposed. When Brian’s alarm went off at 6:30am, I had been awake for awhile. I soon found out why I felt so cold. It was 29 degrees in our tent. Yipes.

Day 1: After reading that you should keep your clothes in your sleeping bag when camping in sub 30 degree weather, I realized I should have taken that to heart. Putting on cold jeans is really not a fun way to start the day. Got out of the tent and saw the goal ahead of us. Shasta. Yep. There she was. So far away. So big. So daunting.

Camping in the dirt

Shasta!

After changing into the hiking clothes for the day in the bathroom (the second to last one on our journey), it was time to have some breakfast and fill out our summit and wilderness passes.

Filling out my permit!

And then, it was time to start hiking. The first part of the hike is nice, though this early in the season, still covered with snow, so snow/mountaineering boots are required. It’s relatively flat, with slight uphill to Horse Camp, a cute little cabin with outhouse owned by the Sierra club. Roughing 1.7 miles from Bunny Flat.

The bathroom and ranger station

Hiking to Horse Camp

The only part of the trail up to the summit that is a trail is the one to Horse camp. After that, you’re on your own. But the trail doesn’t really exist during the winter months because it’s snow covered, so you follow peoples’ tracks. The problem with that is, like deer, people seem to act drunk and make stupid paths that make no sense. At one point, even checking the GPS, we weren’t exactly sure we were in the right place. Luckily, Brian spotted a Sierra Club sign, so we knew we were going the right way.

A minute or so later, there it was, in the distance, I could see a hut. Hooray! We had arrived! The last bathroom… or at least the last one where you didn’t have to poop on a target and carry it off the mountain with you. Oh, and it was inside and protected from the wind. The cabin itself is cute and cozy. We signed the registry book, had a snack, and suscreened up. The next part was going to be tough.

 

AHA!

Bathroom!

Horse Camp Cabin

Break time means dance time!

From Horse camp, there’s a slight uphill leading out of treeline and then, it goes up. Forever. Quite literally, there is no more flat ground until Helen Lake. The snow was soft, so we did not have to put on crampons, but it was super sunny and definitely made for an extremely warm hike. By Horse Camp most of us had discarded all but one layer; the base layer. I now understand why I see pictures of people hiking in shorts; it’s warm.

The view from Horse Camp

Up we go!

Hiking

The winding trail

The trail winds back and forth through the mountains, but it just gets steeper and steeper. It’s necessary to take water/snack breaks every hour to fuel yourself. Oh, and the sunscreen. Don’t forget that. That bloody sun is bright against the snow and it will burn a pale ass person such as myself in about 3.5 seconds. And it will burn your retinas. Thus, my awesomely fashionable over glasses, polarized sunglasses. Ps, you also need to collect snow along the way to make sure you don’t run out of water.

Lookie at my awesome sunglasses and the bloody hot sun

Snow collection time

Showing the distance.

Yep. That’s a grade.

Almost there!

So this whole going up and only up thing, yeah, it’s tiring. Even with all the training; hiking, biking, running, and carrying a 31lb pack up Diablo, it was rough. I had the idea in the beginning to wear a heart rate monitor and keep my heartbeat below 150. That did not happen.

After 3 hours, we finally saw other hikers. They had caught up to us. One carrying a snowboard. As they passed, we had a few minutes to chat. They were from Shasta City and this was a regular day trip for them. Hike up to Helen Lake and back. We also saw a familiar face; the guide from the class we took at REI on how to safely summit was on skis going uphill. This fine group of folks informed us that we were nearly to Helen Lake. Just up around another corner and one last big hill. “Take it slow and steady and you’ll make it no problem.” With that, off they went as we finished another snack break.

The good thing about having someone in front of you, as I learned, is that you can follow their steps. It’s even better when you know they are experienced. It’s FAR better to traverse back and forth and conserve energy, than it is to go straight up. You’ll overheat and basically crash out from exhaustion. So we followed their tracks. All the way up to Helen Lake.

Helen Lake

Upon arriving at Helen Lake, we spotted the group that had passed us earlier. We scoped out the landscape and discovered, to our much happy surprise, that previous hikers had dug out camp sites in the snow. So many choices! There was even a bathroom of sorts, which I think was actually a camp site, but someone had decided it was sheltered from the wind and therefore, an excellent bathroom. We set up camp and decided it was time for some lunch after hiking up for 5 hours.

This is where Jeremy will sleep tonight

Home for the night

Home from a distance

While prepping lunch, I had time to really look at what lay ahead of us on Day 2. If you look at the picture below, Red Banks is at the top middle. There are actually chutes between the rocks that you have to climb through and then along the right to the left towards misery hill, and finally, the summit. The weather was beautiful. It was warm, relatively speaking, and blue skies.

The summit from Helen Lake

This is when the trip had its first set back. Brian had brought a jet boil, which is a mini stove of sorts that uses fuel to boil water, and then you add that boiling water to your dehydrated meals. Well, after boiling water for my lunch, he started it again for Jeremy’s, and headed off to collect some snow for more water. Jeremy and I watched it, but apparently not that closely because the flame went out. Brian tried to start it again, but the spark mechanism wasn’t working. He took out his knife and tried to get the metal parts that create the spark closer together, but it still didn’t work. Without a way to boil water for the next day, our trip was over.

Luckily, by that point, at least two other people had showed up. Brian went and asked for help, and a nice hiker gave us a small carton of matches. 12 to be exact. So yeah, I’ll have a list at the end of things we learned, but for SURE, bring a lighter or matches as a backup. ALWAYS. We ended up boiling enough water for lunch and drinking for the next day, but definitely had a moment of panic.

Boiling water

After lunch and the boiling water party, Jeremy decided it would be a great time to try our self arresting. Self arresting, for those of you who don’t know, is when you use your ice axe to safe your ass when you’re sliding down the hill after tripping/falling. And you better know how to do that, because option B is waiting until you run out of hill, hitting rocks, or dying. The climb up to Red Banks is 35 degrees, so you’d be sliding for awhile. There were plenty of hills around so off we went to give it a try. We soon found out, you can’t slide on powder/wet snow. Even if you try to launch yourself, you only go a few feet, which isn’t enough to practice. We did the technique a few times, and then gave up and headed back towards our camp.

Brian wanted to give it a go on a steeper hill, so back out I went. Even the steeper hill was no good, but I had an idea of what to do. I tried it, multiple times, on snow, as opposed to just watching YouTube videos and thinking I’m an expert. Next up; crampons. Who knew how freaking awesome strapping some spikes to your mountaineering boots could be?! I mean, really? Where the hell have you been all my life crampons? You beautiful, wonderful, ingenious invention. Hard pack snow; no problem. Steep hill; no problem. Literally, climbing up a wall; crampons will destroy it! Tahoe is going to be FUN next year!

It was time to get ready for Day 2. Pack up all the necessary gear. Figure out clothing and pack into your sleeping bag so it would be warm. The sun was just starting to set around 7pm and it was time to sleep. We’d be up in 5 hours and on our way up the mountain. It should be noted that by this time, there were many other hikers. Some stayed at 50/50, which is down below the steep hill leading up to Helen. I’d guess somewhere around 15 in total. One crazy person was up on Casaval ridge. Sketchy. Especially when the wind started. And then, it got worse. I had to put in earplugs, and it still woke me up around 1am. We were supposed to get up in 30 minutes and I did not like the sounds coming from outside.

Day 2. Jeremy was already up and ready to go. Brian and I were debating whether to even attempt to summit. After another hour, it seemed to die down, so we decided to give it go. Packed down our camp and put everything we didn’t absolutely need to summit in trash bags at our site to prevent it from getting wet. And at 3:45am, off we went. This was it. Summit attempt day. OH MY! Bundled up to the max with 18 million layers, helmet, ice axe, and crampons on, I was going for it.

And now it’s time for some honesty. This is literally the hardest thing I’ve ever attempted in my entire life. Without a doubt. Even that first hill leading out of Helen Lake up towards the heart, was insanely hard. I know being at altitude makes things hard, but you really have NO idea until you’re trying to climb up 4,000 feet starting at 10,400. It’s take a few steps, take a break, take a few steps, catch your breath, and over, and over and over again. Traversing back and forth across the hill. Going up, up, and up. And that friggin Red Banks isn’t any closer than it was an hour ago!!! And here’s another thing nobody tells you about hiking. It’s very lonely. Especially when you’re hiking at night, with a headlamp, up a snow covered 35 degree slope with the wind howling. It’s really just you and your thoughts. The only thing that really kept me going is the belief that I could make it. I couldn’t look down. I just looked at the footprints in front of me and followed them. One by one, forever going up.

We were the only people on the mountain. No one else even started to climb until we were close to the heart, probably about 2 hours after leaving camp. We saw their headlights in the distance. Not soon after that, the sun began it’s climb up over the mountain, slowly lighting up the sky with light pink.

UP forever UP

Sunrise

After another hour and half, FINALLY we had arrived at Red Banks. The picture below does not do it justice. It’s steep. It’s scary. It’s ridiculous. The entire time I climbed up that chute I kept begging not to fall. Please don’t let me slip. Please don’t let me slip. It was as bad as I thought it would be. This part was the part I had nightmares about. And for good reason. It’s steep. One wrong foot placement and you’d have to self arrest.

Red Banks

The chute

It was in this chute that the wind started to pick up. And it wasn’t any better when we finally reached the top. It was freezing. I’d have to guess that the windchill was below zero for sure and the gusts of wind were definitely blowing me around a bit. This was the point when I started to imagine worst case scenarios. What if I got blow off the ridge? What then? I thought, maybe we could find some shelter and see if it died down in an hour. But, much to my dismay, once you’re at the top of Red Banks, there is no shelter. It’s exposed. That also means that the hard packed snow turns to ice and your crampons don’t work as great.

For all those reasons, plus the fact that I could see the snow being blown over the final ridge we would have to cross and had no idea how we would make it, I decided I was done. My hands were freezing, my nose numb. This time, Shasta wins. So I told Brian and Jeremy I was done, knowing they would be disappointed, but also knowing it was the right thing to do. Not worth losing a finger or nose or your life over. The mountain will always be there, so there will always be another chance to summit. Well, until the volcano explodes again…

This was only the beginning of the nightmare as it turns out. If going up was scary, going down was heart stopping. And then, the weather turned bad. White out bad. There were 2 other people who reached the top of Red Banks before they too, turned around. They were gone by the time we reached the top of the chute. Jeremy got out fast. I kept slipping on the ice. I had a moment when I slipped and had to stop because I was so terrified. Brian wanted to make sure I was ok, but I had to have a moment. It reminded me a bit of the time I was on a 25 ft cliff at Bear Valley and realized I was stuck and the only way out was off that cliff. So there I sat, shed a tear. A tear of what, I’m still not sure. Defeat. Yes. Panic, For Sure. Questioning whether or not I’d make it out unscathed. Most definitely. I just wanted off that mountain. More than anything.

So, as fast as I could, I headed down. Down that evil chute. Where, in my most panicked moment, my glasses actually froze. I could no longer see as I’m trying to get down the steepest, most technical part of the mountain. Fun. NOT! Brian came to my rescue and helped me put on my mountaineering sunglasses. Without my prescription glasses under them. I could only see close up. Talk about scariest thing ever. This is it folks. White out conditions without my glasses going down 35% grade. Oh Shasta, you silly bitch.

I did make it through that chute. And down the rest of the mountain. Stopping every now and again to catch my breath. Took a look back and saw nothing but clouds. Once we got above Helen Lake, we finally caught up with Jeremy. Sat down and had a snack. Decided to take the crampons off and have a go at Glissading. Which is the French word for sliding down the hill on your butt. And oh my! It’s crazy. Certainly the fastest way to get down the hill, however, painful when the snow is anything but soft. It’s fun in the powder. Almost makes up for the crazy pain and panic I had to go through to make it to the top of Red Banks. Except the part where I need a donut to sit for the next week.

Having a snack

Clouds

AHHH, Clouds

We made it back to the car by 1pm. Lots of glissading and a run to the bathroom at Horse Camp. Literally. I ran. On snow. People kept asking us on the way down if we made it to the summit. I’ve thought about it a lot. It’s not about summitting for me. It was about safety. I don’t feel like Shasta won. I did. Because I was not seriously injured. I got to spend a couple of days witnessing beauty and quiet like nothing I ever have. I can’t begin to tell you what it was like to climb up that mountain at 4am. I’ve learned skills and techniques like cramponing that I never thought I would. And camping in the snow isn’t nearly as cold as I thought it would be.

Things I learned: Always bring matches/lighter. Shasta makes it own weather, so when the forecast says 34 and party sunny, that means it’s probably going to have white out conditions with 75 mph gusts. Like it did when we tried to summit yesterday. Bring a mat, or a pad, or something if you want to glissade. Drink plenty of water. Stop often, but briefly. Look at the view! Even if you’re afraid of heights, like me. The view was amazing.

Here is the whole track:

The route we did.

Would I do it again? I’m still not sure. It was ridiculously hard. And I hate being cold. Maybe next year. Later in the season, when it isn’t so freaking cold. Of course, I was really jealous of all the people skiing down. That really is the way to do it. For sure. I know in my heart of hearts that I would have reached the summit had the weather not turned bad. I guess time will tell if “knowing” is enough. Maybe by next year I will have forgotten the pain.

Thanks to my adventure buddy for life, Brian, for helping me down in my moment of panic and keeping me motivated. Without you, life is boring. Thank you to Jeremy, honorary member of team adventure, for being so excited, every day and kicking so much ass.

Always Choose LIFE! 🙂