Worm Flows to Mt. St. Helens Summit
First summited in 1853 at an elevation of 9,677 feet, Mt. St. Helens now sits at 8,366 feet, having lost nearly two thirds a cubic mile of rock mass during its famous eruption in 1980.
When Mt. St. Helens erupted in 1980, it left a sweeping, widespread layer of fine ash spread across its sphere of the Cascades, ash which still lingers around today in the form of novelty items such as home-brewed beer or hand-blown glass ornaments. Though St. Helens now ranks the thirty-fifth highest peak in Washington state, it used to rank number five, earning a spot on bucket lists all throughout the Pacficic Northwest. Its recent volcanic history is an intriguing reason to make the summit push.
Since I was small, I’ve seen chop-topped St. Helens from the peaks of other hikes, pointed out to me and summarized, “You can see how it looks caved in now. It used to be domed.” My parents have always recounted waking up as children to find ash covering their lawn like snow.
Open on the north side, an enormous crater dramatically memorializes the eruption of four decades ago. The route to summit climbs from the southwest, between Monitor Ridge and the Worm Flows lava beds.
First off, it’s worth noting that initial impressions of the Mount St. Helens wilderness are, in a word, neat. The whole experience whetted my appetite for more hiking in the area. As I drove the back roads from Carson to Cougar, I felt the landscape changing even in the dim light, though for the entire drive I bordered on the Gifford Pinchot National Forest. I noticed progressively more birch trees, allowing pleasant golden-green light into the roadway. The smell of new forest life was remarkable, reminding me of the grand recovery this national volcanic monument is still undergoing.
Distance
Elevation Gain
I left home at 0200 hours. I planned on hitting the trail with a group of hikers at 0430, but got high centered in snow somewhere on a back road heading to Marble Mountain SnoPark. After digging myself out of the muddy snow in the dark, wee hours of the morning, I found a suitable route to the snow park which landed me at the trailhead much later than I originally desired, around 0600 hours.
The show must go on, as every hiker knows. I decided to make the push to summit solo, which was fine with me, as hiking by myself happens to be one of my favorite activities, and plenty of other hikers were also en route.
Climbing to Mount St. Helens’ summit from Marble Mountain SnoPark follows a “trail” of footprints in snow known as the Worm Flows Climbing Route, which is marked well as you begin from the snow park and offers a direct route to summit overlooking the lava flows to the southeast.
Even the couple-mile ascent through the forest was covered in snow in mid-May, and I passed hikers clicking into their touring skis to make their way up the gentle treed slope. Though I’d envy them as they made wide turns over the white face of St. Helens, I didn’t envy the extra gear they were trekking along now.
Almost immediately, I attached my microspikes to my snow boots, the snow already softening in the morning sun. This would set the pace for the remainder of the day, a slow, resolve-testing trudge up steep, slushy glacial ground.
Recommended Gear For The Summit Climb
Trekking Poles
Any travel over an extended slope is aided by these high-functioning sticks. Going down? These can be knee-savers, absorbing some of the impact of that ceaseless downhill grade. For mountaineering, make sure your trekking poles have the disc attachment at the tips to help them remain stable above the snow. Of course, in soft snow, this will remain an issue.
Ice Axe
I made this summit climb without an ice axe, and I noticed other climbers without one as well, but the majority of climbers carried one. The snow was soft enough that trekking poles slowed me down enough in a slip or during glissading. If you plan to carry one, bring something small and light to control your glissade back down the mountain.
Microspikes (or crampons)
These are a must. Without some type of traction device, you will be fighting your steps all the way to the top, making the slopes much more dangerous than they need to be. Crampons aren’t necessary, but a pair of microspikes with a decent spiked tip are a must-have.
Snow Pants
Even if you don’t hike in them up to the summit, you’ll want some type of waterproof pant for the descent. Rather than tote my heavy snowboarding pants up the glacier, I used a durable pair of rain pants from the local sporting goods store, found in the fishing section. They will keep you dry (er) as you glissade down the mountain on your rear end, or even if you choose to stomp down through deep snow.
Gaiters
To keep the snow out of your boots, you’re going to want a pair of gaiters to sinch tightly around your footwear. Especially while glissading, you’ll appreciate the service they offer.
In addition to the mountaineering equipment listed above, you’re not going to want to skimp on water, sunscreen, and layers. I drank about 60 ounces of water and burned slightly on my face despite two applications of sunscreen. The sun reflecting on the snow makes for deadly bright rays. You’ll be hot when you’re ascending, but you’ll want to bundle up at the top, especially if the wind is blowing and you plan to take a minute to enjoy the view.
And you do, right?
Once you are out of the tree line, the trek is one several-mile long ridge ascent to the summit. When you find a trail of footholds that works for your rhythm, stick with it. Finding your groove will be crucial for carving out a path to the peak.
The false summit will be clear. It’s the first giant, looming face that you simply can’t wait to crest. For me, the hardest push was the steep face of the Swift Glacier leading up to the false summit. From there, the summit push is fairly exhiliarating, the 8,366 foot peak immediately before you.
From the top, enjoy panoramic views which include Mt. Rainier, Mt. Hood, and Mt. Adams. The views into the crater are stunning, but be careful on the cornice along the crater rim. Merely hard packed snow on a mountain precipice, it isn’t as solid as rock.
Travel down the mountain will transpire in a fraction of the time it took to climb. Don the rain pants or the plastic bag, grip the ice axe or the trekking pole, hit your butt, and enjoy that snow slide nearly all the way to the trees. There was little need to speed-check in a well-traveled glissade run which resembled a bobsled track at parts. You’ll have to get out of the ruts periodically to re-align yourself with the ridge line.
Mount St. Helens is an impressive feat and makes for an excellent starter peak for first-time summiters. Its elevations don’t quite take you into the thinnest of air to be accessed here in the Cascades, but if you’re like me, your legs will be sore and you’ll be breathing hard by the time you crest that fallen peak. Even after ascending a vertical mile, you won’t regret the summit experience.
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