Skiing Baker in July

Dates: July 2nd-July 3rd 2024

Participants: Lewis Clarkson, Ivan Fediaev, Julian Larsen, Joe Meyer, Stefanija Rekasius, Nick Voth

All it took for this trip to happen was for Ivan to ask on the Discord if anyone wanted to ski Mt. Baker in July and five of us eagerly responding that we wanted to. Who doesn’t want to ski in summer, and on one of the most pronounced mountains you can see from Vancouver!

We decided to go up the Coleman-Deming Route as it is one of the easier and more popular routes up Mt. Baker, so we could easily read up on some trip reports. Recent reports mentioned cornices falling off the Colfax Peak which is right next to the trail, and we knew that avalanche conditions would be higher starting around mid-day given the recent-ish snowfall and warm temperatures, so we decided on a midnight start. Later in the pre-trip meeting we decided to start at 10pm since we were unlikely to get much more sleep and none of us wanted to get caught in an avalanche. We debated if this could even be considered an alpine start since we weren’t technically starting in the morning, but it was close enough.

On July 2nd, the Vancouver car left at 4pm and when we got to the border, the officer was so confused on how we could be skiing in July until we explained that we were hiking up and then skiing down. His response was “Oh, you’re those kinds of people” and we just smiled not knowing how to respond. We got to the trailhead around 7pm where we A-framed our skis and attempted to get a little more sleep before the ascent. The Chilliwack car arrived at around 9:30 and by 10pm we were off, our spirits high and sugary snacks and caffeine pills at the ready.

A-Framed & ready to go – Picture by Julian

The trail was really well maintained and easy to follow even in the dark. There were a couple of creek crossings but they were easy to cross using headlamps. In one spot we opted for a faster, slightly overgrown bypass up the side of one of the creeks. After ~2 hours after our start, we finally reached snow near Hogsback Camp and were grateful to get our skis on our feet instead of on our backs.

Finally starting to skin – Picture by Julian

Skinning felt so much faster than bootpacking but at roughly 1am we entered a cloud that left visibility relatively low. During that section, I had my handy sugary snack of Haribo Roulettes that kept me going. While in the cloud, we mainly stayed on the GPS track, and only had to swerve around a couple crevasses. If we would have continued going at that pace, we would have reached the summit at 4am, but soon the fatigue from having hiked overnight would hit and we hadn’t even reached the infamous Roman Wall (~300m of 35-45 degree slope just before the summit). The endless switchbacks and not having a view was definitely the start of the slog.

Finally at nearly 3am we came out of the cloud just under Colfax and the summit in sight. Unfortunately the energy from not having to endure the endless fog did not last long, as we were about to reach the Roman Wall. When switching to crampons, Ivan dropped his portable charger and went looking for it. He didn’t find it but luckily, later, another group found it and brought it to the summit.

Joe’s POV:

Finally poking our heads out of the cloud layer has to be in the top 5 moments of ever being in the mountains for me, maybe even better than getting to the top. We’d been skinning along for hours, and while we were making pretty good time it was hard not to open the gps every couple of minutes – the mountaineering equivalent of ‘are we there yet???’. Watching the stars sprawl out above us, illuminating the broad glaciers covering Baker on the left and Colfax Peak on the right is something I will always keep with me. 

Unfortunately not long after that, the continued nighttime cooling of the glacier and steepening of the terrain made skinning a tad sketchy. Especially for me, since I didn’t have ski crampons. I made the rookie mistake of switching to crampons too early; the top layer of snow was frozen enough to be sketchy for skinning but underneath it was unconsolidated enough to be a postholing nightmare. I switched back to my skis, and managed to find a doable route up, but not without wounding my pride. I vowed to buy ski crampons before doing any more spring condition ski mountaineering. 

Sunrise above the clouds – Picture by Julian

Let’s just say, when the entire group, cumulatively, is running on probably 12 hours of sleep, the Roman Wall is daunting. Although there were generally good footsteps already made, it took us between 2-3 hours to complete. My debacle happened going up the Roman Wall. One of my crampons was too big, unfortunately I noticed it after it fell off a couple times. There was ice stuck by the pin not allowing me to adjust it. So after a few times of having to stop and put on the crampon, I decided to just clip it to my harness. Closer to the top my other crampon fell off, unfortunately it was too steep to stop and put it on again so I had to climb only stepping on premade footholds. Luckily there was soon a good ledge where I stopped and got the ice out and was able to adjust my crampons. Afterwards it was smooth sailing. Having the sunrise above the clouds definitely kept me going as it was one of the most beautiful views I had ever seen!

Views of Colfax from the Roman Wall – Picture by Julian

Joe’s POV:

The Roman wall was a bit of a death march. We’d gotten up to a ledge before the proper ‘Roman Wall’ and regrouped before continuing for the final bootpack. The whole ‘being up for almost 24 hours straight’ thing wasn’t treating me so well, I took one of Nick’s caffeine pills. Against my better judgement, I slammed the whole 200mg thing back, there was no room for subtlety.

The first 20-30 or so minutes of the bootpack, my body felt weeeeird. My brain was exhausted and in a cloud, although my body couldn’t sit still, and my heart was thundering in my chest. I could see Julian way ahead of me and I was curious where everyone else was, but I vowed not to look back for fear of being forced to admit that I hadn’t even gone half way. Eventually, the initial 200mg dose and shock of being moving again wore off, and I managed to find some enjoyment in the feeling of kicking my crampons in, trusting them, and making progress. Not that it was easy, but there’s a certain determination I was overcome with knowing that the only way the pain would cease would be to finish. Finally, I crested the final steep ledge and meandered up to where Julian was waiting on the false summit.

Nap time

Mt. Baker’s shadow during sunrise – Picture by Stefanija

Ivan’s POV: 

Going up the Roman Wall was without a doubt by far the most excruciating slog I’ve been through in the mountains. This was because of several poor decisions whose consequences all converged at this point, the first one being my complete and total disregard for nutrition. My dinner back at the parking lot was simply an entire box of pasta without any sauce or toppings. Just pasta boiled in saltless water. I didn’t have enough time to prepare anything more appetising as all my time before leaving was spent packing my gear. In addition to a terrible dinner, I decided to only pack trail mix and candy for the way up thinking that it would be sufficient for an overnight ascent. Despite my questionable dinner, I was able to cruise the skin up powered by two cups of instant coffee with a top up of half a caffeine pill midway through, provided generously by Nick. Although I started strong, my energised self would start crashing at the Roman Wall and the lack of sleep that I was able to ignore started to weigh heavily on my eyes. Since the camera I brought started to run low on charge, I searched in my bag for my power bank. I found it and put it on the snow on a seemingly stable spot, but as I switched focus to put my crampons on I managed to knock it towards where we came from and it instantly slid away into the darkness like a hockey puck on an ice rink. I was not happy and not to mention I just bought it and it would hurt my ego to lose that quickly. I spent the next 10 minutes frantically searching up and down trying to find it, but with the speed it was moving at I should have just accepted the loss and conserved my energy. I went back up to the group and then spent another 10 minutes in a mental haze trying to figure out how to adjust my crampons to fit my ski boots. The wind also started to pick up at this point so I reached into my bag to fetch my gloves only to find that they were missing. I remembered vividly putting them in my trunk but I forgot to move them in my bag. This was not the condition to be in at the crux of the route. I was tired, demoralised, and my stomach was also sitting heavy with all the nuts and candy I’ve been eating along the way, and it was refusing to take any more. Lewis was kind enough to offer me one of his sandwiches which I think is what saved me from total failure. We set off and I quickly fell to the back of the group and I started to feel worse with every step. My mind wanted to move my legs faster, but there simply wasn’t any energy left in them. I started counting my steps and tried to hit at least ten every time before stopping and catching my breath. I started feeling nauseous and a searing headache started to set in, typical symptoms I feel after caffeine binges. I had a terrible cramp develop in one of my hamstrings and I couldn’t move it. I took a break and hoped that it would loosen up. I kept trudging along with my hands in my pockets, keeping them warm and looking back to gaze at the sunrise. I’ve never been above the clouds and witnessed the sky transition from total darkness to sunrise with gorgeous hues of pink and orange covering them all. Slowly but surely I kept going and eventually got to the summit, more than two hours after the first person in our group made it up. After a bit of rest, more real food, and hydrating I started to feel better. The group behind us managed to find my power bank which was a much needed morale boost. I was feeling good again and excited to ski down all the elevation that we had accumulated. 

Bootpacking on the Roman Wall – Picture by Julian

Views of the summit – Picture by Ivan

After reaching the false summit we had a little nap break and then walked to the true summit. At the summit there was a small tent pit dug out which made us wonder if the person was forced to camp there or did so on purpose. Either way the tent pit became the ultimate rest spot as it was completely sheltered from the summit winds. During our time at the summit, a guided group of 4 reached the summit coming via the Easton Glacier Route having camped nearby. We were then joined by Lewis and Ivan and got the necessary group summit picture.

Picture by Nick

Picture by Ivan

Going back down to the false summit, we noticed some climbers on a huge serrac on the North Ridge Route making their way towards the summit. At around 8am we decided that the corn softened as much as it would at the top before snow near the bottom would be too mushy. The break at the summit was very much appreciated though, and with that, we got ready to ski…in July!

Joe ready to ski – Picture by Ivan

Lewis ready to ski – Picture by Ivan

Unfortunately the Roman Wall was facing South-West so we started off with some pure East coast skiing. Having learned to ski near Montreal, skiing on ice was a fun memory of home and made me value the amazing snow here in BC even more. Unfortunately not all of us had great luck going on the Roman Wall. Our first incident on the descent was Ivan’s water bottle. It fell out of his pack and straight into a crevasse below. The second casualty was Nick’s ski. Nick’s ski popped off and it slid towards the crevasse. At one point it started to slow down, almost coming to a stop at a lip, until it finally tipped over the edge and fell into the same crevasse that Ivan’s water bottle fell into. From there, Nick had to attach his one ski to his pack and walk down, which turned  more into a run to keep up with the skiers.

The next incident occurred soon after at almost the same spot where Nick lost his ski (where we turned onto a ridge to get off the Roman Wall and into the bowl for our descent). We were mostly lined up on the ridge but then with icy conditions Ivan turned and fell on his thumb. It turned out to be a sprained thumb, also known as skier’s thumb ironically.

Ivan’s POV

This was one of the dumbest ways I’ve gotten injured and I cringe looking back at it. Basically on the way back down there is a part where there is a small uphill that leads to the ridge of the Roman Wall. My genius idea was that if I gain just enough speed going down I can get past the uphill without having to side step up, but I vastly underestimated how fast I would get on icy snow. Joe was ahead of me on top of the ridge and at the speed I was going at he was going to become a bowling pin and I the bowling ball. I stopped as hard as I could and hit the ground, with my left hand bearing the brunt of the impact. I came sliding towards him and stopped at his feet. One of my skis popped off and was pointed down towards where Nick’s went, but fortunately I was able to grab it before it got a mind of its own and joined his ski for eternity in the Easton glacier. I don’t remember exactly what Joe said, but it was something along the lines of “how about we don’t”. My left hand felt pretty bad, especially my thumb which felt like it had been badly sprained. I did my best to ignore it as we skied downhill and back to the cars. In the parking lot I noticed it was really swollen, as if I stuck it in a beehive. I went to get it checked out at a hospital when we got home. I was asked how I injured it and saying “skiing” in July was met with surprised reactions from hospital staff. It ended up being a ligament injury of sorts, thankfully nothing tore which would have been much worse. I was going to be in a cast for a week and then reassessed at the Saint Paul’s Hand and Plastics clinic. As the doctor was making the cast I asked how people usually get this injury. “Skiing,” he said. This ski season (if July counts) I went out a total of four days and I got injured on two of them, which means a 50% injury rate.. There were not the statistics I thought I would be thinking of in the summer. 

Once in the bowl, we finally reached decent snow and good slopes which made carving easy and allowed the turns to be amazing. The few crevasses that we passed on the way up in the dark were now visible and avoidable in the sunlight. Getting closer to the bottom also meant the snow got slushier and it very much felt like summer skiing. Towards the Hogsback Camp the terrain became a bit rockier and Joe and Lewis got slightly cliffed out.

Some good skiing – Picture by Ivan

After some relatively steep lines in July, I couldn’t be happier trying to not think about the bootpack down. Our transition this time was a tad slower as sleep deprivation was starting to hit along with the post-ski blues. Hiking down we knew Nick was going to get asked why he only had one ski so we started brainstorming ideas including how that was just a really thin split board or that having one ski made him faster. The bootpack down was much faster than I expected and it was fun to actually see the trail and creek crossings.

Nick with his ski – Picture by Ivan

At 12:30 we got back to our cars and got ready to go back to reality. Ivan in his trusty Toyota Corolla was having a bit more of a struggle with the low clearance and loose pebbles but made it off the FSR. I then took over and got to be the driver across a border crossing for the first time, let’s just say biking across is much more fun. Having climbed Baker has been amazing and I don’t know how long it will be till I don’t look at Baker and think “wow, I did that”.

Ivan’s POV

The funniest moment for me on this trip is looking at Joe trying to pack his stuff in the car with the most bloodshot eyes imaginable and visibly struggling to coordinate. At one point he asked me “I don’t know what plans we have, but I would like to be home. I have a pre-trip that I need to run”. I respected his commitment and hoped that he would have enough brainpower by then. Stefanija at this point is the most coherent and energised, probably because she didn’t have any caffeine. I graciously transferred driver status to her once we got off the FSR, after almost destroying my engine running into a shallow mound of pebbles. 

Skier’s Thumb – Picture by Ivan

Total time car-to-car:

14.5 hours with a 2 hour break at the summit

Lessons learned:

- Buy ski leashes

- Check your DIN setting before you ski

- Double check that your crampons fit your boots

- Clip your water bottles to your pack

- Allocate more time than expected for an overnight hike

- Bring actual food and not just sugary snacks in order to avoid crashing