Last October I was itching to ski. Early June was the last time I slid down a mountain with skis attached to my feet and those four months seemed like an eternity. With the first big push of cold air and snow up high on the Cascade volcanoes, I got a call from my friend Dave. “It’s high pressure all week. You want to climb Adams on Wednesday?” asked Dave. After gathering some beta on the weather (looked really good) and talking to some veteran locals who have scaled Adams in the fall, we agreed conditions were prime (i.e sun-cups have been filled in and the melt-freeze cycle should produce outstanding corn) and told Dave, “I’m in.”

With skis and ski boots hanging from our packs, we departed the trailhead at 4am. It was a spectacular morning and we were giddy as we switched out from hiking shoes to ski boots and crampons. Below the ramp up to false summit we found protection from the wind and snacked on gorp at the infamous “lunch counter”. Wispy clouds high the sky made for a glorious sunrise and we pushed up the wide-open south-facing ramp that is full of glissaders on August weekends. As we gained elevation up the ramp, the snow become increasingly firm and the clouds a bit thicker. But when firm snow transitions to ice you’re forced to reassess. Having ascended up the lookers right side of the ramps, we decided to traverse across to see if the left side (west side) held snow instead of ice. No luck. After a quick conversation we both agreed that it would be wise to turn around and head back down. There was no way with the increasing clouds that the snow/ice was going to soften up and be skiable. We began our down-climb on the ramp and wandered to an area littered with rocks. The ice was punchable and the rocks provided natural features to grab on to for support. Seemed like the perfect place to work our way down. My mind must have drifted off for a minute as I moved down the volcano because when I looked up it seemed as if someone with a fire hose sprayed the entire area in 4 inches of blue ice. Dave and I were gripped. Then the unthinkable happened- Dave fell.

Mt. Adams from the south

We don’t know how he fell. His crampon could have caught his pant during a step or a boulder covered in ice could have shifted under his feet. Who knows. He landed on this ass, slid 7 feet and jammed both of his crampons into a 4 foot high boulder that just happened to be downhill from his fall. Thankful to have his crampons lodged in this ice-covered boulder, we both realize it would have been a very ugly scene (very likely death) if Dave had kept sliding down. We barely caught our collective breath before the situation got worse. Those wispy clouds that had slowly been getting thicker and more prominent turned into a full on blizzard in a matter of minutes. It was as if Dave’s fall flipped the switch for heavy snow, 30mph winds, and nearly zero visibility at 10,000 feet. And then the situation got worse yet again- Dave’s crampon broke during his fall. A side point of the crampon that houses one connection of the toe bail snapped, leaving his right crampon useless. 10 feet above and to the right of Dave, I couldn’t believe what I just saw. How could all this being happening to us right now? All indications were for perfect weather and we had made such a smart decision by turning around and forgoing our summit attempt. This is just cruel, I thought to myself.

temporary fix to a crampon

I worked my way down to Dave to share my Voile ski strap and three smaller cords that I carry in my backcountry pack. We had no choice but to attempt to secure the crampon to Dave’s ski boot using the aforementioned ski strap and cords. The crampon was on his boot, but not very tight and we both knew it would require delicate downclimbing in a blizzard with 30 mph winds. All extra weight had to go so a nice pair of Volkl Gotamas and Black Diamond poles were tossed into the abyss on Mt. Adams southern flank. (If you find them this summer, please email us at info@trewgear.com!). ‘One step at a time’ was our motto and it was particularly hard for me to move at a snails pace because I wanted off that f’ing mountain as fast as possible. Dave continuously reminded me to slow down and stay within eyesight. After what seemed like an eternity, we made it back to the lunch counter safe and sound, but were still in the midst of a full-on blizzard with almost zero visibility. It was cold as hell and we both had on long underwear, softshells, mid-weight insulated garments, and our shells….and we weren’t over heating.

Now we had to find our way down this giant volcanoe and that was no easy task when you can’t see where you’re going. At 3pm we were still above tree line and thinking to ourselves that we very likely might be spending the night in the woods. And if that was the case, we figured we ought to move down the mountain to find shelter despite the fact we still hadn’t located the trail on which we ascended. Luckily, with a little work with a compass, the GPS locator on my iPhone and after moving west over one more sub-ridge, we found the trail around 4:15pm. I’ve never been that excited to walk another hour with my skis on my pack.

Dave and I are lucky to have emerged from this crazy day without any injury or death. It was a stark reminder of how powerful and unpredictable the mountains can be. While we have developed the skills and tools to conquer mountains, don’t ever forget they are a force to be reckoned with and must always be treated seriously and with respect.

While the seriousness of mountaineering and ski mountaineering is necessary and should never be lost, I was recently reminded of how we often we take ourselves too seriously and how many of our skiing and snowboarding endeavors could use more than a touch of humor, humbleness, and lack of ego. If you’ve never met Asit Rathod, you’re missing out. He is unabashedly Asit and no one else. What you see is what you get and he doesn’t take himself very seriously. And in an industry where pros have to self-promote and every other ripper is “getting after it”, it’s nice to spend time with an accomplished skier who laughs a lot, skis naked, and has dance parties on the top of lifts and the top of mountains (primarily Mt. Hood).

Asit on Mt. Hood's Cooper Spur

Asit skins at snails pace, skis on fat skis, and if it’s a perfect day on top of Mt. Hood, might even smoke a cigar. He’s skied off the summit of Mt. Hood more than any other human on this planet (110+ summit descents) and that’s no small feat. Hood is a big mountain and frequently kills people. And he respects that mountain as much as he respects anything in the world. Yet that didn’t stop us from having standing on top of the tallest point in Oregon dancing to “Return of the Mack” at 9am last week. He doesn’t care that all the other climbers on the summit give him weird looks and probably question his behavior on top of large active volcano. He’s not there to prove anything to anyone. He just wants to shred (maybe naked, maybe not), laugh, and throw thumbs ups to his pals back at the Timberline parking lot.

We could all use a little more Asit in our lives. He reminds us that we need to take the mountains seriously and not ourselves.

-Tripp

ps. big thanks to Richard Hallman for the photos of Asit. you can view all his images at www.freelanceimaging.com