Kings of the Cascades

Step by step up the volcanoes of the Pacific Northwest

All mountains have their majesty, but the home of the mountain kings in the Lower 48 is surely the Cascades of the Pacific Northwest. Beginning in northern California with Mt. Shasta and Lassen Peak, and extending north to Mt. Garibaldi in British Columbia, this chain of (mostly) extinct volcanoes makes up some of the most distinctive mountain topography anywhere. These snowy-headed monarchs, crowned with lenticular halos and caped with glacier and rainforest, stand tall above the lowlands, promising wonder and adventure to mountaineers.

Though long used as a training ground by elite alpinists, these big snow-cones also serve up many lifetimes of mountaineering all their own. And any climber living in the Pacific Northwest simply cannot escape seeing them: On a clear day, Mt. Rainier seems to loom over Seattleites’ Interstate 5 commute, though it actually sits many miles to the south. Portlanders may see Hood, Adams, and St. Helens from points in town.

With their deep maritime snowpack, northern location, long, sunny summer days, and volcanic underpinnings, these mountains move and change with the seasons, pulsing underneath their cloaks of green and white. Ridges, sub-peaks, faces, and glaciers form a bewildering topography. Some routes on Mt. Hood can be done car-to-car before lunch by a fast team. Routes on the larger peaks, Rainier and Adams, may take a strong party three days. Some summits are so tiny that you’re just, to quote a friend, “one epileptic fit away from oblivion,” while others could, and have, housed an army encampment. Regardless of objective, you’re going high above the valleys, forests, and towns, above exams and grades, jobs and stress, and everything else. Above the treeline and into the alpine zone, where you make your own path.

Looking back on my years of apprenticeship in the Cascades, I treasure the memories, even as I laugh at my folly. Near misses with avalanches, getting benighted on “shortcuts,” and an altogether random choice of routes—if only I’d had the sense to create a ladder-like progression of alpine objectives on which to gain skill and experience, my progress might have been much more orderly. Here then, is one such list of Cascade volcano routes, presented roughly in ascending order of difficulty. It is by no means the only such path to mountaineering mastery, but it will school you in the tricks of the trade, and frequently take you off the beaten path, high and free.

COOPER SPUR | MT. HOOD, OREGON | 11,239ft | Grade II

While hordes of snow-sloggers hike Hood’s popular southern route, another experience awaits discerning climbers on the north. A long, elegant line sweeping gracefully from forest to summit, the Cooper Spur serves up a solid portion of introductory mountaineering. Heavily weather- and conditions-dependent, the route can be hiked in running shoes during the warm summer months, but by then it’s a gravel pit of loose rock and scree. Better to go in early spring, when snow covers the route. Steep summit slopes necessitate solid nerves and smooth crampon technique; rock-fall potential on the upper ridge makes a predawn alpine start mandatory; and the very real possibility of deteriorating weather and resulting navigation challenges make this north-side route a significant undertaking.

During Cooper’s peak climbing season, the primitive road leading to the start of the climb may still be snow-covered (through July in some years), requiring a three-plus-mile walk up the Cooper Spur ski trail to the Cloud Cap area, jumping-off point for all north-side routes, at about 6,000 feet. From here, the route drives almost straight upward to the summit, after a short dogleg east to a moraine bordering the Eliot Glacier. Above the moraine, the Spur runs skyward, steepening to 50 degrees near the summit and demanding careful footwork, especially on the descent. While climbers of other north-side routes often use the Cooper as a descent route, it’s also possible, and technically easier, to arrange a car shuttle and descend the standard south-side route.

KEY SKILL: Cramponing
As with the learning curve of mountaineering itself, the Cooper Spur begins at a benign angle, but gains verticality the higher one climbs. Your ice axe will function mostly for balance; footwork is your make-or-break skill. Duck-walking, sidestepping, and various rest stances will take you to about 45 degrees of slope. Beyond this angle, step-kicking and front-pointing become necessary. On the descent, reversing these moves may provide the most thrilling moments of the climb. Once below the steepest section, except in very hard snow conditions, you’ll want to master the plunge-step. Practice your footwork on an accessible snowfi eld. Focus on the seamless transition between techniques when moving from one angle to another, like shifting gears in a car.

MUST KNOW: Glacier Skills
These snowy climbs require a range of skills that will be foreign to the rock-oriented climber. Most routes on this list also involve significant glacier travel, so get a solid introduction to glacier travel and crevasse self-rescue tactics before setting out. A day or two with one of the many excellent guide services in the Northwest will be well worth the investment. For books on glacier techniques, we like: Glacier Mountaineering: An Illustrated Guide to Glacier Travel and Crevasse Rescue, by Andy Tyson and Mike Clelland, and Mountaineering: The Freedom of the Hills, from the Mountaineers Books.