Backcountry
Conditions Report
Report from Sunday, December 17, 2023
When it is your buddy’s birthday, and he drives up from California for a tour, you go touring, even if the turns are less than silky. Sunday, December 17th, on Mt. Hood, Oregon, was a saga of ice and… shaved ice. Although Timberline Resort had Bruno, the Miracle Mile, and Palmer up and running, coverage and snow quality issues made for shockingly difficult sliding anywhere “off piste” (to the extent that there was any piste) on the hallowed south-side slopes.
On the way up to Mt. Hood, the roads were clean, almost as if they had been washed by a generous amount of liquid precipitation during the past week. Our trip east was even heralded by a glorious morning sunrise. Timberline was bustling when we arrived around 9:00 a.m., full of riders ready to access some lift-served terrain. The backcountry lot was also nearly entirely full— with some folks heading uphill, some learning about snow science, and a solid contingent of sledders.
We showed up late because we knew that our best bet for a good ride down would be finding some sun-warmed corn. Departing the lot around 9:20 a.m. it was immediately noticeable that the snow was rock-solid. Fortunately, some friendly snow cats had chewed up a path for uphill travel. Without it, we would have started and ended this tour on ice. (spoiler: we still had plenty of ice). Let me take a step back and say that this was no ordinary tour; it was a birthday tour for adventurer, photographer, and, more recently, student Jardon Weems. Jardon drove up from the Bay area to Portland so we could spend his birthday on a mountain.
Mt. Hood is certainly a mountain, especially when it is iced over. We stayed on the cat track to the top of Palmer, at which point we both slotted our ski crampons, and I grabbed my axe. It was a sheet of ice between 8,000-9,500 feet, owing to the many days of rain and then relative warmth. This was no surprise, but we were hoping to hunt some dust that had accumulated in the Bowl.
Unfortunately, upon reaching 10,000 feet, we realized that entering the bowl would require an exposed traverse on ice that overlooked a significant fall. After debating the merits of birthday luck, we decided that, without real crampons, we would not push it. We kicked a platform into the ice and took off our skins, getting ready for an intense descent. After I took my first few swishes on perilous ice, I glanced over my shoulder to see if Jardon had embarked on his first turns of the snow year.
To my horror, one of Jardon’s skis was feeling more adventurous than us: it was on a solo trip into the White River Canyon. Fortunately, it skied itself to a point low enough to be safely followed. I navigated the crevasses and cracks to retrieve the plank. I skied the canyon until eventually booting back to the top of Palmer, where Jardon and his WNDR ski were reunited. It was a tough day, but it was a day in the mountains. We are always grateful for days in the mountains.
Plus, the 10-day forecast for the Cascades is starting to look a bit snowier, so there is still hope for powdery winter holidays!
