Mt. St Helens

I look across God's beautiful landscape that characterizes the Pacific Northwest, and see something to be conquered. Mt. St Helens is famous around the world where in 1980 a modern miracle occurred. Comparisons to Mt. Vesuvius and the Hawaiian volcanic fields are apt, but my experience summiting the mountain was special.

Originally, I was a little, lets call it, headstrong. I played tour guide for my cousins and took them to the Mt. St Helens observatory but as I looked at the spectacle, I thought to myself 'I could do that.' At first, I just concluded I'll just get up the hill, but I later found it was a little more of a feat to overcome. Nonetheless, a mission to triumph over the obstacle was born... but it was not easy.

I decided I was gonna do it, and nothing would stop me. I was gonna fly solo, just climb. However, after a discussion with my Dad, who had summited in his youth and had extensive experience as a member of the Mazamas Hiking Club, expressed his concern about being alone on a mountain could be considerably dangerous... to say the least. So he convinced me to pay to go up with a group, and I figured it was smart, but little did I know, it was fucking stupid.

So I figured I'd train, but didn't quite think it through. I went on a couple practice hikes at Point Defiance, a local park in the Tacoma Area, and hit the stairmaster, losing 13 pounds over the summer. Physically, I was in pretty good shape, but mentally, I did not realize the literal mountain I had to literally get over.

As an Eagle Scout, I had a first hand understanding of the Scout motto, 'Be Prepared,' and my Dad would regularly remind me of the 6 P's, Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance. So I packed my bag with countless Cliff Bars, Gatorades, toilet paper, lunch, and my favorite hiking food, dried mangos. A last second purchase of Mentos proved a luxury as when I got to the top, my mouth was filled with ash.

Alright... so I'm ready. I get to the trailhead at 6 o'clock in the morning after driving 2 hours towards the mountain. I did not sleep. My internal clock is typically stay up 'til 2 AM wake up at 10 AM, and it works for me. But I had to assess the situation, and I made the conscious decision I was going to power through it. 5 hour energies carried me to the top, I was about to stay up for a total of 36 hours straight.

We start the assent, and I'm like 'I got this.' We walk through some woods and I am practically galloping down the trail. No problem, lets do it. We get out of the trees and its just rocks, and I am thinking to myself, 'O shit.' For some reason, I never thought to think that the mountain actually exploded, and the terrain would be treacherous. Little did I know, I would be basically rock climbing over boulders up a 3 mile landslide of volcanic stones. Each step I am thinking 'one bad footing and I am going dooooowwwwwwnnnnnn.' Safety first, I was like, ok, focus. So like I said, mentally, it was trying.

As I go up the hill, the guides explained it as 'choose your own adventure' which essentially means 'get up the fucking hill.' The only landmarks on this massive landscape were some tree limb sticks up a ridge, guidelines for a simple stroll for Mt. St Helens, but again, it was stupid.

So I am walking up this mountain range, questioning my competence, trying to keep my guide Lynsey in sight so I am not abandoned on the side of a mountaintop. We had 3 guides including Lynsey, and Olivia was another Godsend from the Mt. St Helens Institute for my climb. One of the people in my group was particularly insightful, as she was actually a geologist who had professional perspective on what I was about to overcome.

Risking my life with each step, I began to look around appreciating the scenery. It started off as a typical NW cloudy day, and being naïve, I came to realize I was actually in the clouds at 5000 feet in the air. Surprisingly, there were a couple of trees that had sprouted on this mound of ash, something that I had not expected. Onward and upward!

I am keeping pace, and there are a lot of people summiting on that Saturday. I finally get through the sketchy rock field to the last 1000 feet which is straight up, finite ash/sand where you take one step forward and slide a half of step back. So I just took it one step at a time, feeling pretty wired with the peak in sight.

I start thinking about what I am actually doing, the tree line, the rock field, the sand, and the sights, and begin to appreciate how cool this actually is. With clear views of Mt. Hood, Mt. Rainier, and Mt. Adams, I gazed over the view, amazed at what I was seeing, but nothing could prepare me for the top.

I get to the lip of the crater, and had the ultimate 'HOLY SHIT' moment. I look down and my jaw drops as I see how much actual earth got moved from one place to another. It was incredible! It was absolutely unbelievable!!!!! There is a huge glacier and it is still steaming because it is still, technically, a fucking VOLCANO!. Feeling proud of my accomplishment, I sat down at the top of this colossal hurdle, to take in what I had just done, and had a bit of a spiritual moment.

I looked around, above the clouds, a vast tree line, the Columbia River, and other peaks in the distance, and took in God's glory. He created all of this, and it is breathtakingly beautiful. That is the power of the man upstairs, and I would literally never be closer to him. So I am thinking to myself, wow, God is great. But look at me! Lol, I am great, and God created me. So I decided to make a deal with God... I am going to live my best life, one that He would expect out of me, and always appreciate and recognize His influence on what is going on around me. I popped in a couple more Mentos, peed into the crater, and celebrated with the rest of my group. We summited in about 6 hours, dreading the danger of the walk down, I slid down Mt. St Helens.

Encouraging those on the last few steps to the peak, I was feeling on cloud 9. I get down and back to the car still wired yet exhausted to drive back home to crash. About a week of soreness, I told the story of my climb to my Dad, and we smiled and agreed that Mount St Helens is my last climb, because if you get stuck out there, there is little chance of coming back to that comfy bed and warm sweatpants awaiting me.