Loowit

In Puyallup mythology, Loowit (AKA Mt St Helens) was the object of affection from two god-brothers: Wy’East (AKA Mt Hood) and Klickitat (AKA Mt Adams). When they could not stop their quarrels, their father Sahale struck them all down, and they formed into the volcanoes we see today.

In Cowlitz mythology, things are different: Tahoma (AKA Mt Rainier) had an argument with his two wives, Lavelatla (AKA MSH) and Pahto (AKA Adams). Lavelatla became jealous, blew her top, and knocked the head off Tahoma.

So, Loowit has always been a special place, long before 1980. Each of us had climed it before… for me, the last time was in the runup to Vinson, in November 2013. But we were all excited to be back. This day was a chance to explore a spectacular mountain with friends… to bask in the grandeur of one of nature’s most sacred places… to challenge ourselves with a brisk day hike… to be unplugged. And, to ensure the experience was not sullied by the exhaustion of work, we arranged to spend the nights before and after at a hotel nearby in Woodland. #posh

Jerry starts brewing coffee before we even get to sleep.

Up at 1:00 AM… out the door at 2:00 AM. As we started out, it was obvious that this would not be ideal weather conditions: Misty, moody, wet, warm atmosphere. As we went higher, the soup became thicker. By the time we reached Climber’s Bivouac, it was a true dense fog, with about 20 foot visibility. Had we brought the right gear? Would we summit in a whiteout? Would we summit at all? There was only one way to find out.

Signing in for the day. 2 other parties already in today’s log… one of which is still asleep in their car.

And we have ours, thanks to the mad logistical skillz of T$.

Ascending the first boulder field in the night. Note the Luci Light on T$’s back. #beaconofrighteousness

November 2013: Same sign… different conditions.

Yeah, it was foggy and still… not cold, really, but certainly not comfortable climbing weather. We had the mountain to ourselves. We had each other. And there was nothing to stop us.

A beautiful… grody atmosphere for sure, but beautiful.

Somehow I was expecting it to look more like it had in 2013….

Eventually we saw hints of sun, even blue sky above. As the sun rose, so did my confidence that we could get on top of the moody brew and into crystalline sunshine. And so we did.

Snapping photos in case this is the last sun we will see all day….

Exploring our new digs above the clouds.

… this is how I looked taking the shot. #meta

Jerry: Laser-focused on the route ahead.

The spectacular and fabulous women mountaineers of Team Adventure.

Teresa: Cascade Mountain Adventurer extraordinaire.

Looking for a sunny, auspicious break location.

Up we went, climbing rocky bench after bench. The basalt and pumice provided excellent handholds, and most of the boulders were very stable underfoot. We were doing this, and nothing could stop us. Nothing, except the spectacular cloud cap growing on the summit.

A legitimate cloud cap atop the summit. We watched it rip by, like water flowing over a stone in a river.

Our shadow at sunrise. The cloud cap truly looks like a cap here!

Our neighbor, larger than life: Klickitat / Pahto.

A bit windy here… that OR Helium really did the trick.

The cap grows bigger and descends towards us as we rush to meet it….

Clear sky, sandwiched between deck below and cap above.

Clouds shredding in the lee of the summit.

I was surprised to see persistent snowfields near the top, which sported young suncups and even some creavasses ~20 feet deep. Snowfield with cracks? Legit glacier? You decide. Chris used his eagle eye to spot a piece of fabric flapping in the wind below the trail, near one of the snowfields. We agreed to get it on the way down.

Check the cap on Klickitat / Pahto. We are not alone in the wind here!

Snapping Jerry’s photo at our last break before the top.

Chris girds up his loins for the final push.

The wind grew, and although it was never ferocious it was legit. I thought, Loowit is coming and She is Pissed. Once again my GoPro 7 stuttered and froze just at the wrong moment, precisely as it had on Olympus a couple weeks earlier. I need a new camera! As we approached the top, I thought of the last time I had been here. It was a totally different experience in winter, intentionally so: I was preparing for Vinson, thus climbed with a heavy pack, in Olympus Mons boots. At this location I had felt whipped with exhaustion, really struggled to make the last steps in snowshoes, with the heel stops all the way up. Getting to the rim was a big deal for me, and I was elated to have made it with my brother and buddies John and Doug. I was sorry only that we could not creep to the edge to peer straight down, for fear of breaking a cornice. Today I felt fine, just perfectly fine and dandy. Older… lighter… warmer… more experienced… wiser. The Seven were under my belt, and I had nothing to prove to anyone, not even to myself. This was all about enjoyment. And we enjoyed the hell out of it.

Tail of the cloud cap appears as gossamer, jetting away towards Klickitat / Pahto.

Nell cruises towards the top, Wy’East in the distance.

An epic selfie, with the whole team in frame.

Closeup of the crater dome… steam rising from numerous vents at center. Tahoma in the distance.

True summit hidden in cloudcap. A dirty glacier snakes downwards around the center dome.

Klickitat / Pahto seems close enough to reach out and touch…

I’m looking for trash I thought I saw from below. Turned out to be a bright red pumice stone.

Approaching our spot for the summit shot.

Jerry captures me shooting the crater dome.

We wander towards the true summit, in hopes it might emerge from the clouds.

Yeah, the cap will take longer to clear than we are willing to wait up here.

Getting our act together after the summit victory shot.

What is Teresa doing so close to the edge?

Teresa gets the Pig of Adventure ready for a closeup.

We had the mountain totally to ourselves for some time up there. We found refuge from the wind in a small valley and took in the scene. Again, as always, I was amazed and grateful to realize that this is my state, my home. We live here. Some fun folks came up behind us. Then some folks who seemed less prepared but still had a great time. Then I fell flat asleep on my back, snoring and dreaming deeply of the volcano. I recalled the final minutes of Fantasia 2000… I urge you see it in full HD. We ate and rested and chatted. And then, inevitably, we had to descend.