As a relatively newer skier and a fairly seasoned climber, skiing the Cascade volcanoes is an aspect of snowsport that clicked immediately. I love the long days, fun skiing, and big views you can get from just walking uphill for a few hours. In classic fashion, this most recent high pressure system culminated in four days of freeze and thaw—perfect for the formation of a stable snowpack and skiing spring corn.

Sadly, Morgan had to work, but for the funemployed (yours truly) and career academics (my touring partner, Amanda), Thursdays are for volcano skiing. The objective this time: The Worm Flows route up the south flank of Mount Saint Helen's.

The Setup

Like most big tours, our day started the night before with a drive to the Marble Mountain Sno-Park and a snooze in the back of the truck. Timing our descent right means starting the hike up around 5 or 6 AM, which doesn't leave much time to sleep if you're planning on driving the morning of.

Around sunup, we awoke to the sound of the entire parking lot getting ready to head uphill, and once we decided we couldn't sleep through the commotion any more, we hopped out of our sleeping bags and started the morning rituals: coffee, bathroom, skins, beacon.

With the essentials out of the way, we shouldered our skis and stepped into our ski boots. Well, I did. With no snow in sight at the trailhead, Amanda opted to shoulder her boots and approach in trail runners. I, meanwhile, clomped a mile through the forest in my Scarpa F1s.

The Good Part

Eventually, patches of snow and stretches of mud gave way to an actual skin track and we built up speed quickly. Months of consistent running are paying off—this tour has destroyed me twice before, but this round was a walk in the park.

The lower section went quickly, with conditions being just right for us to ascend a gully that is usually guarded by menacing-looking cornices (which were absent this day—though we found the remnants of one as we came up over the roll). Rather than having to gain a rocky ridge and hike with out skis on our packs, we didn't have to click out of our binings once, stopping only to don our ski crampons for better purchase in the not-yet-sun-softened morning snow.

By about 9 AM, the sun was fully overhead, and our uphill progress was juuust keeping pace with the snow softening underfoot. We had planned on taking a break at a weather station we knew was about halfway up the route, but sometime on the upper mountain, we turned around to spot the station far below—we'd blown right past it.

Along the way, we made some friends—largely folks from Portland who had the benefit of spending the previous night in their own beds. I thought I was pretty fit, but as the terrain steepened, eight to ten people passed me in a beeline for the Crater Rim.

We ended up skinning up alongside Buddy (pictured here cosplaying as Colin Hayley) and his unnamed to me ski partner, who also brought an unnecessarily large camera up with him.

Finally, we reached the rim of the crater. For the first time that day, the wind kicked up and we felt like we were actually tacking a big objective. The wind was blowing at the rim, but just 20 feet back the breeze was light and the sun warm. The cornice that forms each winter is a well-known hazard that has claimed many lives, so we were careful to keep our distance. Still, from our vantage point I was able to snap some cool shots over the lip and across the maw of the crater.

The Best Part

With the wind blowing in our faces and the sun baking boilerplate ice into corn, we flipped our boots and bindings into go-down mode. The descent was excellent. We must have used the words "best ever" at least ten times as we skiied 2500 feet of perfect corn. Whereas I've mostly only survival-skied to descend big mountains, this descent had us feeling like we were ripping laps at the resort. For free!

I didn't want it to end, so I asked Amanda to grab some videos of me to brag about later:

As we dropped below 4000 feet, spring corn turned into summer slush with our poles and skis punching a foot or two below the surface. Conditions slowed us down big time:

8000ft → 7000ft: 7 min 7000ft → 6000ft: 4 min 6000ft → 5000ft: 9 min 5000ft → 4000ft: 14 min 4000ft → 3000ft: 28 min

Below treeline, the shade in the woods kept things firm enough to have fun. Once I trusted the Cascade concrete to control my speed, skiing the sketchy little ribbons of snow weaving through the forest was great. A veritable luge track of mashed potatoes.

On the way down, I noticed wisps of smoke rising through this mysteriously snow-free zone of rocky debris—presumably the fumaroles of this very-much-active volcano we'd been recreating on.

We skied almost all the way back to the car—with just a mile of hiking at the end. I signed out at the trail register at 12:45, about an hour and fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. We piled into the car, cranked the A/C, and made a straight shot for Kalama, to eat burgers tots at McMenamins on the water. Two thousand calories and much Cajun seasoning later, I felt good as new and we headed back to Seattle for some proper rest (falling asleep on Morgan's couch watching Black Mirror). Not a bad way to spend a Thursday.