Glacier Phenology

Elizabeth Kimberly is a graduate student at Western Washington University. This year she received a Mazama Research Grant for her project titled “Testing the viability of using structure-from-motion photogrammetric surveys to Track glacier mass balance and meltwater discharge on the Easton Glacier, Mt. Baker, Wash.” Below is a reflection on her recent field work.


Article & photos by Elizabeth Kimberly

In the past, I’ve associated the concept of phenology with flowers and trees undergoing seasonal transformations from buds to blooms. However, conducting research on the Easton Glacier the past several months for my Masters thesis has shown me the remarkably striking ways in which mountain-scapes, too, change with the seasons. These are the abiotic parts of nature that we typically think of only being subject to change over centuries and millennia, not days and months … so much for a “glacial pace.” Here, I write about the phenology of the Easton Glacier through the spring and summer of 2018.

Early May

It is early May and the birds are chirping dawn choruses and the winter rain has diminished. The disparity between the snowy alpine and the verdant lowlands is increasingly stark. Stubborn patches of snow still make the trailhead’s rugged forest road impassable and when we arrive, the snowmobile crew has finagled a winch system to pull their burly trucks and sled trailers across. We giggle at their innovation as we attach skins to our skis, complete a most unusual gear check (duct tape? steam drill? PVC pipes? avalanche gear? snacks?), and finish our coffee.

A team of 8, all members of the Northwest Cruisers Snowmobile Club, has united to help us transport our heavy, bulky research gear up the Easton Glacier and nearly to the summit of Mount Baker. In less than 20 minutes our crew has zoomed from 3,000 feet to 8,500, across cobble-filled creeks and dormant underbrush and unconsolidated glacial till and deep crevasses, all obscured by meters of snow. The undulations of the topography are softened by the snow-laden landscape and the terminus of the glacier is indistinguishable so early in the season.

Niki and I follow a pre-set GPS track to find our first site. Our goal for the day is to use a steam drill (not to be mistaken for a sasquatch-sized espresso-maker) to drill five stakes into the snow and ice, which we’ll revisit through the summer and fall to measure changes in the surface elevation. We probe each survey site to ensure we don’t inadvertently install a stake into a crevasse, and to approximate the depth of the snowpack. When we’re finished, we enjoy the payoff: a ski through thousands of feet of soft spring corn to sites 4, 3, 2, and 1, where we repeat the installation process.

Mid June

By mid-June, the snow bridge across the Easton Glacier’s outlet creek has melted and the low albedo of the cobbles has revealed interwoven stream channels and vegetation. The glacier is no longer accessible via snowmobile and so we approach the ice with an awkward tango of skiing, skinning, hiking, and bush-whacking. We’re wearing shorts and we are disoriented because the glacier’s foreground has morphed into a mosaic of snow, dirt patches, and moving water. “Didn’t we ski right over that waterfall just a month ago?”

We arrive at the first stake and measure 127 centimeters worth of snow-melt since its installation a month ago. There’s a spider perched on the stake, totally unaware of the climatic changes unraveling around it. We continue up the center of the glacier, moving more delicately and swiftly in certain, seemingly thin places. Sometimes we straddle deep crevasses and peer down into the frozen abysses. Like stratigraphic columns that reveal a chronology of shorelines, the cracks expose layers of snow, firn, and ice from seasons passed.

It’s 3 pm and we’ve made it to stake 3. The snow appears to have gone through a melt-freeze cycle recently and the corn tempts my skiing instincts. On a whim, we decide to pause our research efforts and jaunt up toward the summit of Mount Baker. After all, it might be our last chance to ski volcano corduroy. Around 6:30 pm, we strip our skins and fly down the glacier, at the mercy of gravity and with the current of a disappearing frozen river.

Late July

It’s late July and now we’re wearing hiking boots. There’s a heat-wave in the valley, the trailhead is packed with day-hikers, and we’ve replaced ski poles with crampons and avalanche gear with glacier ropes. The goals of our visit are varied, but first on our list is to install a second stream gauge and measure the creek’s velocity. What’s the diurnal variation (i.e. How much does the streamflow change as the day warms? Can we attribute its velocity changes to snow-melt and/or glacial-melt?)?
After an afternoon of drilling holes into rocks (to install our “level-logger,” a device that continuously measures the stream’s height, which we use to make a curve that relates stream stage to velocity throughout the summer) and standing in glacial streams, we find ourselves sprawled in a wildflower-filled alpine meadow, eating macaroni and cheese and talking about unscientific things. Does the full moon pull on the glacier the way it pulls on the tides?

On our second day, we return to the highest stake for the first time since May. We’re attached to the same rope, five meters apart and moving simultaneously across the ice, navigating mazes of crevasse fields and ice-fall. Sometimes we rearrange our rope’s trajectory to ensure we remain perpendicular to the visible crevasse patterns. We scan the glacier for stake 5 and Katie spots it at the mouth of a widening crack. Oops.

We arrive at stake 3 and the snow has melted a total of 355 centimeters in two months. The untouched field of white snow from a month prior is now striped with fissures. The crevasses concentrate in places where the glacier is moving most quickly, typically along convexities in the topography. Stake 1 is guarded by a cliff of unconsolidated sediment, the remnants of the glacier’s path, and it’s inaccessible from above. We contemplate what climbing Mount Baker will be like in 50 years, and the recently revealed uneven, unstable rocky terrain at the ice’s edges offer compelling evidence.

As we leave the glacier and return to our campsite, I baffle at the delicate heather buds waltzing in the wind. This sea of wildflowers is a product of millennia of eruptions and glaciations and burrowing marmots. I can reasonably predict what this landscape will look like when we return at the end of September, and again in February. But I can only speculate how long it will take for the summit of this glaciated volcano (currently a bright white beacon in the sky and only accessible with crampons and ice axes), to become a cirque with an alpine lake, shaded by subalpine firs and fit for hiking boots and sunset picnics.

Star Dust

by Darrin Gunkel

The Summer Triangle

You’re standing on the side of a mountain, about 7,000 feet above sea level. It’s a few minutes after sundown and the color filling the western sky has you absorbed. Until you turn to the east and notice something odd. The sky has a pinkish glow but for a dark band of blue along the horizon. This is the Earth’s shadow cast onto the upper reaches of our atmosphere. It’s visible for a brief time after sundown, while the geometry of our sun and planet are just right. Once night fully falls, rather looking at the shadow, you’re standing under it.

The pink glow is called the Belt of Venus, and when it appears, it’s time to start looking for the first stars and planets of the evening. Twilight’s a great time to find your way around the sky – it more closely resembles those constellation finder charts that tend to show only the brighter stars. Things can get confusing later on in full darkness, when the storm of summer stars can throw off even experienced stargazers.

This month, the show begins with the two brightest planets: Venus blazing 15 degrees (or three fist widths) above the western horizon, and Jupiter, 30 degrees up from due south. Both should be easy to spot by 9:30. Just north of east, Vega, the fifth brightest star in the sky (not including the sun) rides a little higher above the horizon than Jupiter.

Vega burns as brightly as it does for three reasons. First, it’s big: two and half times the size of our sun. Second, it’s hot: its surface registers 9500 Kelvin (the temperature scale astronomers use, based on absolute zero. Our sun’s surface is 5770 Kelvin. The average temperature of the Earth’s surface is 287 Kelvin, or 57.2 degrees Fahrenheit.) Vega’s hotter, larger, and brighter than the vast majority of the 200 billion to 400 billion stars in our galaxy. Finally, Vega’s nearby, a galactic neighbor at 25 light years.

Vega is also the anchor for the bright summer asterism, or pattern of stars, known as the Summer Triangle. The second star in the group, Altair, is rising due east after sundown. By 10:00, it should have cleared the murk of dust and haze near the horizon. Altair has an entourage. Just above and below are the slightly dimmer Tarazed and Alshain, respectively. Altair’s not as bright as Vega because it’s neither as big nor hot. In fact, it’s much closer, clocking in at 16.7 light years.

Neither of them, however, holds a candle to the final member of the Summer Triangle. Deneb, found about 30 degrees above north-northeast as twilight deepens into full night. It’s among the largest and brightest stars in the galaxy, a super-giant 100 million miles in diameter. That’s not a typo. Deneb is wider than the distance between the Earth and Sun. Intrinsically, Deneb is something like 55,000 times brighter than our home star. Move it to Vega’s distance and it would be clearly visible during the day and cast shadows at night. But it’s 60 times further away, shining at us across 1500 light years, so it only ranks as the 19th brightest night time star.

Incidentally, big, bright stars are rare. Our Sun is a good example, often misidentified as average, though anything but. It’s larger and brighter than 90 percent of the stars in our galactic neighborhood. Of our 50 nearest stellar neighbors, only seven are bright enough that we can see them without the help of binoculars or a telescope, and only three of those are truly bright, first magnitude stars. Relatively close neighbors Vega and Altair don’t even make that list. A few of the rest can be spotted with binoculars, but most are tiny red dwarfs, often closer in size to the giant planet Jupiter than to our sun, and invisible with anything other than a seriously large telescope.

The Great Rift

As the night deepens, dimmer stars fill up the sky: the little parallelogram that hangs like a pendant below Vega, marking the constellation Lyra; the splay of stars to the south of Altair, the constellation Aquila; the Northern Cross capped by Deneb. And then there’s the Milky Way, the collective glow of billions of stars too distant and dim to make out with eyes alone. Together their light forms what the !Kung people of the Kalahari call the Backbone of the Night. The Milky Way runs right through the middle of the Summer Triangle, and through the middle of it runs the Great Rift.

The Great Rift splits the Milky Way into two streams. The stars aren’t sparser here, they’re obscured by great clouds of cosmic dust: the star stuff that Joni Mitchell and Carl Sagan liked to point out we are all made from. And not just us. Star dust is everything in the solar system that isn’t hydrogen or helium (everything that isn’t the Sun, Jupiter, and Saturn, basically), every planet, asteroid, comet, meteor. Everything on or in every planet, asteroid, comet, meteor. The oceans, the continents, the volcano you’re camping on. Moreover, that star stuff fuels those volcanoes.

The earth is hot inside: cranking at 44 trillion watts. Half of that heat comes from radioactive decay – the breakdown over time of uranium, mostly, but also thorium, potassium and a few others, into lighter elements. This decay unleashes subatomic particles that crash into the other stuff the earth’s made of, and transfer their kinetic energy into that stuff, heating it up. This melts the Earth’s interior, creating the convection driving the plate tectonics fueling mountain – and volcano – building. (The rest of the heat is leftover from the Earth’s formation – also kinetic energy, but from numberless bits of cosmic dust in the Sun’s birth cloud colliding and coalescing under the influence of gravity.)

So where’d all that dusty stuff come from? Back to the stars – the big ones like our Sun, which end their lives as planetary nebulae: glowing shells of future star dust and gas that disperse into the cosmic wind. But to make the really heavy radioactive elements, like uranium, you need really big stars like Deneb. Starlight is (part of) the exhaust of nuclear fusion: hydrogen fusing to helium, and so on to heavier elements. To get the really exotic, unstable radioactive elements like uranium, you need the conditions found only in a supernova, the death-throe explosion of one of those super-rare giants. Super-rare, but remember, there may be a third of a trillion stars in our galaxy, and it’s been around for something like 15 billion years. Plenty of time for plenty of ancient Denebs to cough up enough heavy elements to keep planets like ours cooking up entertaining mountains.

DIY Trekking Food

by Wendy Marshall

I admit it. I’m one of those outdoor people: I feel less daunted navigating an ice field or tiptoeing along a precipice than I do walking into REI. So many options! Furthermore, if I drop a scary sum of cash on a product, will it meet my needs? Thus, I tend to be more resourceful with basic tools
Food is no exception. I can take lots of punishment if I have the right fuel, and enough of it. Work stress? Car issues? Bring it, provided I get a few hearty meals, and maybe chocolate. Being planet-conscious, I also care what my snack contains. It makes me skeptical of those freeze-dried meals in outdoor retailers, even if the label claims organic. As a beginning trail hiker, I find the idea of being caught on a distance trek with insufficient or lackluster food as terrifying as faulty gear. Granola bars are easy to make, but could I replicate, even improve on, those mysterious dried meal packs? Instead of reinventing the wheel, I did what any wise person does before a new venture: research. Veterans of the Pacific Crest, Appalachian and other trails have left a wealth of tips and recipes to help us DIY-types create homemade nosh, without trading health or taste. The simplest ingredients are often the most flavorful, affordable, and nourishing.

Learning to make your own trail food also teaches you about nutrition itself, and your body’s requirements. While backpacking, you can burn 400–600 calories an hour. If you’re small, that might mean only 3,500 calories for a 10-hour day, but it’s a safe bet to pack at least 6,000—the need of an average-sized person. It’s better to carry a little extra weight, than be hungry and fighting a grim attitude. A good way to determine your needs is to take a three- or four-day hiking trip, equipped with a clear excess of food. Starting on Day Two, begin tracking all that you eat, since your body will have by now consumed some of its stored fuel reserves in the form of glycogen. Continue tracking for the rest of the trip, then afterward, estimate the bulk amounts and calories you’ve used.

To craft good trek meals, focus on four things: nutritionally dense, non-perishable, lightweight, and easy to prepare. The last typically means dehydrated; if you need only boiling water, you save fuel. If you get really serious about eats, you might want to buy a dehydrator, but it’s not necessary. Bringing a dehydrator on board, however, means you can make anything from dried strawberries and apple slices to bell peppers and mushrooms, in the sizes and textures you prefer. Plus, making dried noms is fun!

To start, many meals are just a base of carbohydrates, with tasty stuff mixed in. Think organic co-op bulk bins, here. Good carb choices pack at least 100 calories per ounce, yet are lightweight and rehydrate quickly, with minimal boiling. Pasta with small, thin shapes; rice noodles; and instant rice all cook in five to ten minutes by steeping in boiling water, with no added simmering. Potato flakes, lentil, or bean powders, corn grits (or polenta), and soup mixes are also good. Couscous can be cooked, fuel-free, during camp time: On a sunny day, place couscous in water, cover, and leave for 20-30 minutes. And don’t forget the instant oatmeal! Remember oatmeal and instant rice can be made into either sweet or savory dishes, doubling your options.

To the carbs, begin adding nutritious bits. Here’s where a dehydrator shines, because fresh veggies are heavy with water. But I also love Trader Joe’s for its wide range of dried fruit and vegetables—dried coconut, berries, orange and apple slices, along with dried kale and broccoli, green beans, peas, mushrooms, sundried tomatoes, and more. I’ve dried spinach in a warm oven, and made my own kale chips. Almost any hard-to-find dried vegetable can, of course, be purchased online. Protein may not be as critical, since you’ll likely be munching trail mix all day; still, bacon bits, ground nuts or wasabi chickpeas, soya protein nibs, and finely shredded jerkies are nice additions.

To flavor your meal, first check the spice cabinet. Mine includes garlic and onion powders, curry, chipotle, and herbs like basil and rosemary to perk up potatoes and pastas, and a pumpkin pie spice blend for breakfasts. When looking for seasoning packets, don’t rule out Asian or Indian grocery stores for fresh ideas!

From my Southern relatives, I learned a trick: for more flavor, just add sugar, salt, or fat. We covered seasoning, and while I won’t say no to chocolate, I need more for dinner. Fat is all right, since it’s where the calories are—usually 160 calories per ounce or more. Some of us think cheese for this, and dried parmesan or cheddar is certainly nice. I’d never heard of powdered butter until exploring trek foods. But a great source of fat is vegetarian-friendly: olive oil. Avocado, nut, safflower, and a myriad of flavored oils also work. Carry oils in smallish, sturdy plastic bottles, and remember to add them after your meal is thoroughly rehydrated or cooked (unless it’s a fried meal!).

To safely transport your ingredients, you’ll want lots of resealable pouches of various sizes, and a few plastic bottles—I try to minimize plastic, but reusable is the silver lining here. I also bring a canister for rehydrating, since personally, I prefer not to mix boiling water and plastic bags (though some people do). Since meals are born in stages, you can save time by re-hydrating vegetables and other ingredients while you hike. But, if that soupy slop leaks or spills, your freshly seasoned pack can attract irritating or even dangerous members of the local beast community! Be safe. Seal canisters of rehydrating or liquid food, gooey spices, eggs or pungent fats in a second Ziploc freezer bag or pouch.

All this sounds lovely, but how to combine it? Unless you’re a super chef, you may find inventing recipes a challenge; I did at first. Again, trailblazers come to our aid. Websites like wildbackpacker.com share lots of recipes for each meal. I’ve been using them as templates to experiment with flavors and textures. I also plan to check out the book Lipsmackin’ Backpackin’ since, cute name aside, it serves up years of PCT hiking (and eating) experience.

To start, check out the recipes on this page, which I tweaked from those on Wild Backpacker. I hope this reveals how a simple recipe can turn into a gourmet serving on the trail. Before you set out, try some recipes at home, and pick a repertoire of favorites. Those fancy meal products need never be a worry again.

About the author:
Wendy Marshall got acquainted with the Mazamas in 2014, but has always loved activities related to ice, snow, rocks, plants, and mountains. Besides forest walks, snowboarding, and cooking, she enjoys herbal brewing and her experiments are slowly outgrowing their shelves.

2018 Climb Application Stats

by Sarah Bradham, Mazamas Director of Marketing & Communications

In April 2018 the Mazamas launched a brand new website that changed the way the Mazamas have managed climb applications for the last 43 years. Gone is the antiquated paper process that required an intricate level of knowledge of the organization, up fronting the cost of a climb by purchasing a climb card, rewriting information over and over again on paper applications, as well as the need for envelopes and stamps. In its place is an online process that is based on a user creating a profile that details their experience and activity history, finding a climb they want to participate in, and providing payment information (and only being charged for the climb if accepted).

As we transitioned to this new system there was both a lot of excitement, as well as a heavy dose of anxiety about how the process would work. Would hopeful climbers need to be sitting at their computer at 9 a.m. on the climb registration open date to even be considered for a climb? Would the most popular climbs immediately be full? How would it work with all the climbs not opening on the same date as they had in the past? Would the new system be easy to navigate?

We did a lot of prep work in the months leading up to the launch to get the message out to our members and the community about the new application process. We shared information via our monthly magazine, weekly e-news, and social media channels. We also talked to our climb leaders about implementing a new phased application process to lessen the stress on the system; in case problems did arise we would be better able to manage them with only a subset of climbs opening on any given date. Our climb leaders also agreed to increase the number of applications they were willing to review in order to ensure applicants did not get shut out from the application process.

So what’s the verdict?

The early results are extremely promising. The first 28 climbs of the season opened at 9 a.m. on Monday, April 16. We were in full on call center mode at 8 a.m., staffed up and ready to handle all of the emails and calls from applicants. And … they never came. Between 8 a.m. and 11 a.m. we handled approximately 5 phone calls and 4 emails. And in that same time we received 250 applications for climbs. We did have one major challenge that came to light on Wednesday April 18 as leaders began accepting applicants. Our 3rd party payment processor had changed something critical in their API that caused a payment failure for anyone who had previously paid for an activity through the new Mazama website. This caused approximately 50 payment failures. But thankfully, since we had launched with a phased application process, the issue was relatively small in scope.

Since that initial opening we have had 4 separate registration open dates:

  • April 16: 28 climbs
  • April 23: 37 climbs
  • April 30: 36 climbs
  • May 7: 88 climbs
The anxiety about climbs filling immediately upon the application opening did not occur. In fact, most climbs have yet to even reach their maximum applicant number. This means that you do not need to be sitting at your computer or on your phone at 9 a.m. when the application opens in order to be considered for a spot. However, it is wise to apply for the climb on the first day the application opens, as if the climb does have more applicants than spots available, the climb leader may factor the date you applied into the acceptance criteria.

What does the application data look like?


If you aren’t interested in stats you might want to stop reading now, because we are about to geek out on data. In the past, without a centralized process for activity management, the Mazamas have been unable to confirm any of the rumours that circulate regarding difficulty getting on climbs or even identifying the most popular climbs. We can now crunch the numbers to get an informed picture of the number of applications submitted, the number of unique applicants, and much more.



As of 5/7/2018 at noon, here are some stats:

  • # of climbs on the schedule: 193
  • # of spaces available on climbs: 1773
  • # of applications for climbs: 2031
  • # of unique applicants: 561
  • Average # of climbs applied for per applicant: 3.62
  • # of applications accepted for climbs as of today: 580
  • # of unique applicants accepted on a climb: 335
  • # of applications in the awaiting approval queue: 725
  • # of unique applicants that have applications in the awaiting approval queue: 344
  • # of Mt. Hood climbs: 19
  • # of spaces available on Mt. Hood climbs: 150
  • # of applications for Mt. Hood climbs: 449
  • Most popular three mountains/routes: Mt. Hood South Side, Mt. Ellinor, and Unicorn Peak.
  • # of climbs that have reached their applicant capacity: 15
  • # of climbs that reached their applicant capacity within 24 hours: 0
  • # of climbs that reached their applicant capacity within 5 days: 3
A few things to remember if you are thinking about applying for a climb:
  • Climbs are NOT first come first served. The climb is open until it either:
    • The Registration Close Date arrives
    • The climb reaches its Maximum Application Capacity
    • The leader selects their team and closes the application
  • Only apply for climbs that you will be able to attend, i.e. don’t apply for two climbs on the same day
  • Apply for later season climbs, they tend to have more availability
  • Think outside of the major peaks – there will be fewer applicants and less competition for peaks with names you might not recognize, but that doesn’t mean they will be any less fun!
Get all the details on how to apply for climbs at beta.mazamas.org/applyclimbs
Do you have feedback on the new application process? Please share your thoughts here.
We will share more data as it becomes available. Until then, happy climbing!

After the Fire: Alternatives to Closed Gorge Trails

Latourell Falls  Photo: Darrin Gunkel

by Darrin Gunkel

There’s no way around it: Columbia Gorge hikers are going to have to do more driving this year. Since the Eagle Creek Fire, nearly every trail on the Oregon side remains closed indefinitely. To get the same bang for our hiking buck, we’re going to have to roam farther afield. But look on the bright side: casting a wider hiking net is a chance to get to know some less famous, but no less worthy trails. The question is, how to choose which ones? Here’s a list of some of the more popular Gorge trails, and their rough equivalents within day-trip range:

Closed: Wahclella Falls Loop—1.8 miles, 300 feet
Alternate: Latourell Falls Loop—2.4 miles, 520 feet
Where do you take your out of shape relatives from out of town? Wahclella Falls was always a good bet, guaranteed to wow urbanites from back east with a taste of Cascadia’s wonders that wouldn’t leave them soured with blisters and aching limbs. Fortunately, the other quick and easy Gorge-walk-guaranteed-to-please escaped the flames. Some say Latourell is one of the most beautiful falls in the gorge—it’s arguable. Do this loop clockwise, working through forest finery and smaller falls before the big unveiling. Then send them back to Ohio duly impressed.

Closed: Multnomah/ Wahkeena Loop—4.8 miles, 1,500 feet
How do you find an alternative with everything this loop offers: the easiest access, a slew of awesome waterfalls, a quick Gorge fix that you can squeeze in after work and still be home before dark (in Summer Solstice season, at least), a decent, but not grueling workout? You can’t. So, here are three alternates that attempt to fill the gap piecemeal:

Alternate: Pup Creek Falls—7.8 miles, 1,695 feet. 
This trail along the Clackamas River gives you all the water you’re missing along the Multnomah/Wahkeena Loop. The trail is longer, certainly not an after-work trip, but it’s not as steep, so the energy expenditure’s about the same. The forest is lovely, and the falls are as impressive as (almost) anything in the Gorge.

Alternate: Mitchell Point—2.6 miles, 1,270 feet
One of the few Gorge trails that escaped the burn, this is your quick fix. Sure, it’s shorter (and steeper), but the time you save can be spent at pFriem Brewery, just 15 minutes away in Hood River.

Alternate: Palisade Point from Fret Creek—4.8 miles, 1,300 feet. 
Almost too long a drive to count as an alternate, this northern approach to Badger Creek Wilderness does provide relief from crowds. It’s an almost identical workout to the Multnoma/Wahkeena Loop, and like it, add-on trips make it more enticing. But rather than viewless Devil’s Rest or the long, long trip up Larch Mountain, from The Palisades, you can go visit the masses ogling Hood at Lookout Mountain, or ramble out to Flag Point and visit with one of the last active fire watchers in the Cascades. The views from the fire lookout or the meadow south of Flag Point encompass much of Badger Creek, and a whole lot of eastern Oregon. The flowers are excellent.

Closed: Multnomah Falls to Devil’s Rest—8.4 miles; 2,300 feet
Alternate: East Zigzag from Lost Creek— 9.4 Miles; 2,300 feet.
Zigzag Mountain lacks waterfalls, but it does have pleasant Burnt Lake. And views. Big views, grand enough to take the sting out of the longer drive.

Closed: Nesmith Point—10.2 miles; 3,700 feet
Alternate: Huckleberry Mountain from Wildwood Recreation Area—11 Miles; 3,500 feet
These trails are practically twins. Huckleberry may be a little lower, but the longer trail makes up the few hundred feet difference in elevation. This route is in really good shape, and the grade is ideal for keeping your heart rate right where you want it. Fine Hood views from the tiny summit meadows. There’s lots of parking at this BLM site, but your Forest Pass won’t work—it’s only five bucks, though.

Closed: Mt. Defiance—12.2 miles; 4,900 feet 
Alternate: Paradise Park-Hidden Lake Loop Hike—18.1 Miles; 4,300 feet
While Mt. Defiance is closed, you’re going to need to find another test hike to prepare for your summer climbs. This could be the ticket. You can get to Paradise Park from Timberline. It’s a pleasant trip, but easier, and where’s the fun in that?

Closed: Horse Tail, PonyTail, and Triple Falls Loop—4.4 miles; 680 feet
Alternate: Falls Creek Falls—3.4 Miles; 700 feet
For your hardier relatives, or when you need a quick jaunt on a rainy day in the off season, the Horse, Pony, and Triple Falls triple threat could not be beat (especially as a launch pad up Franklin Ridge). Falls Creek Falls should be just about as impressive for visitors, and even though the walk has just one cataract, you can add nearby Panther Creek Falls to the trip.

Closed: Eagle Creek to Tunnel Falls—12 miles, 1,640 feet
Alternate: Lewis River—10 miles, 1,260 feet 
Eagle Creek is another one that really has no alternate (Not even the OTHER Eagle Creek, lost in its forest canyon down there by Estacada). So what do we do? Give up the tunnel and a few waterfalls and head for the Lewis River. Some would say that the forest here is actually better, the trees fatter, and the river wider. Go and decide for yourself.

Closed: Indian Point—7.6 Miles; 2,800 feet
Alternates: Cairn Basin from Top Spur—8.7 Miles; 2,200 feet
So the stats on this hike make it a good surrogate, and at 90 minutes from Portland, it’s still a reasonable day trip. It also makes a reasonable alternative to McNeil Point—the two destinations share much of the same route. But there’s something missing … views of a great river in a deep gorge from the edge of a cliff. If that’s what you really crave, spend the extra 45 minutes traveling and head east of the Cascades to the Deschutes River and Criterion Ranch—10.2 Miles; 2,200 feet. A bonus that makes up for the significantly longer drive (still doable for a long day): no trees to block any of the views. Which also means no shade—but the flowers are better. Go early in the year or the day. Or take a really big parasol. Hood and Adams make appearances, too.

Closed: Nick Eaton Ridge Loop—14 Miles; 3,800 feet
Alternate: Dry Ridge to Grouse Point—14 Miles; 3,400 feet
Dry Ridge doesn’t get much traffic. The Roaring River Wilderness is less about scenery and more about protecting deep forests and tributaries of the Clackamas. The steep elevation gains on this trail also keep crowds at bay. If you’re missing Eaton’s stiff workout, this is the place for you.

Closed: Backpacking in the Mark O. Hatfield Wilderness 
Alternate: Badger Creek Wilderness, approached from the east
Losing backcountry camping in the Hatfield is a real bummer: quick and easy to get to, and often snow free while the high country is buried. The next closest thing is Badger Creek. Two loop trips can be launched from the School Canyon Trailhead above Tygh Valley, one longer, up over Tygh ridge, and one shorter, down through the canyon of Little Badger Creek (a reasonable 9 mile, 2,150-foot trip.) Or, you can hike up nearby Big Badger Creek for many pleasing miles. No matter which you choose, all have pleasant camping, and a rarity on the dry side of the mountains, consistent water sources. Badger’s network of trails isn’t as vast as Hatfield’s, but it’s a chance to sleep many miles from cars and lights and cell phone signals, still within a few hours of civilization, early or late in the season. Which is also when you should visit, unless you really enjoy heat.

Closed: Angel’s Rest/ Devil’s Rest Loop—10.9 miles, 2,770 feet 
Alternate: Huckleberry Mountain via Wildcat—11.2 miles, 2,200 feet
This is the lonesome way up Huckleberry Mountain, via the Plaza Trail from Douglas Trailhead, which is a quick hour from Portland, up the Wildcat Mountain Road above the OTHER Eagle Creek, near Estacada. You may find this alternate is actually more interesting than the original, with regular glimpses of Hood, and views that allow you to study the architecture of ridges and canyons at the heart of the Salmon Huckleberry Wilderness. You will find more solitude (where won’t you, after Angel’s Rest?). Oh, and the occasional glimpse of Jefferson–you don’t get that from Devil’s Rest.

Closed: Larch Mountain Crater—6.6 miles, 1,400 feet
Alternate: Memaloose Lake/ South Fork Mountain—4.6 miles, 1,400 feet
The ramble around Larch Mountain Crater is the meal before the dessert of views from Sherrod Point. This alternate trail has the same quiet forest feel of Larch’s crater, and some of the spectacle of Sherrod, too. To get to the views on this trail above the Clackamas River, you have to work a little harder, but Memaloose Lake along the way, with one of the best rhododendron forests anywhere, more than makes up for it. The lake is known for its newts, which you might find migrating on the trail if you’re there at the right time of year. South Fork’s summit is a bit woodsy–the volcanoes are farther away than on Larch, but there are more of them to see.

Closed: Elevator Shaft—6.7 miles, 1,860 feet
Alternate: Green Canyon Way—6.6 miles, 2,500 feet
You like steep? You’ve you got steep on this trip up Hunchback Mountain from Salmon River. And the forest is nicer, here, too. The mileage for this alternate is to the junction with the Hunchback Trail, which you can then follow all the way to Devil’s Peak lookout, and which may or may not be cleared of blow down. Or you could try the other direction, ambling along Hunchback’s ridge until it begins to drop down towards the Zigzag ranger station. Or just head back down to enjoy the burn while you cool your feet in the Salmon River.

Not closed, but you might want to consider an alternate anyway.

Trails north of the Columbia are going to be taking up a lot of the slack this season. Add the new, weird permits on Dog Mountain, and the loss of the two trailheads close to Table Mountain, and you have reason to consider avoiding some of the Washington side classics until things get back to normal.

Avoid: Table Mountain—Formerly 8, now 15.5 Miles; formerly 3,350, now 4,320 feet
Alternate: Salmon Butte—11.8 Miles; 3,170 feet
Since Bonneville Hot Springs Resort has been converted to a rehab facility, and the private access to the Aldrich Butte trailhead has been closed, the trip up the Gorge’s tallest summit has gone from rewarding punishment (multiple volcano views in the Gorge!) to a route only a trail runner could love. That slog along the PCT was always awful anyway… The great thing about Salmon Butte, the trail is prettier, even if, echoing Table Mountain, it follows an ugly retired road at the start. What you lose in Columbia River views on Salmon Butte, you gain in volcano counting from the summit: eight of ‘em! From a glimpse of the Sisters all the way to Rainier.

Avoid: Hamilton Mountain—7.5 Miles; 2,100 feet
Alternate: Siouxon Creek Hike—8.2 Miles; 1,600 feet
There’s no official reason to avoid Hamilton Mountain: it’s open, the trails are in good repair, it’s easy to get to, it’s still a wonderful trip. But closures elsewhere are likely to push the capacity of this already busy trail—not to mention log-jam the parking lot. Siouxon Creek is not exactly a hidden gem, but it is a little farther, a little less on-the-radar. And what Siouxon lacks in majestic Gorge vibes, it more than makes up for with its deep, lush, forest and pretty river.

Avoid: Dog Mountain—6.9 or 7.4 Miles; 2,800 feet 
Alternate: Nestor Peak—8 Miles; 2,980 feet
Unless they can go at night or during the week, the new permit system may force Dog Mountain off many a hiker’s to-do list this year. Fortunately, Nestor Peak is nearby, and a close match to the famous Dog. You won’t be staring straight down onto the decks of Columbia River barges from Nestor, but the flower show is worth the effort, as are the views out to Adams and Hood.

Avoid: Cape Horn—7.1 Miles; 1,350 feet
Alternate: Falls Creek Falls Loop—6.2 Miles; 1,150 feet
Again, aside from the seasonal closure to protect nesting peregrine falcons on the lower trail, there’s no real reason to avoid Cape Horn, other than overcrowding. Here too, parking is bound to be a mess, compounded by the proximity to Highway 14. Lead by example, leave a little earlier and get home a little later and enjoy this extended version of the Falls Creek Falls trip.

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Families Mountaineering 101

Lillie on a Tyrolean Traverse at Horsethief Butte. Photos: Mari Williams.

This was why we were here—to test and challenge ourselves, and to experience that exhilaration and joy together as a family.



by Grace Taylor

That sunnyday in September was the first time I’d seen blue sky in weeks. The Eagle Creek fire had darkened the skies and caused us to cancel the first of our scheduled field sessions with FM101. But this time, a cool, crisp wind had cleared the air for our first outdoor climb.

After learning about the ancient paintings hidden among the rocks at Horse Thief Butte, we split into groups to practice our climbing and rappelling skills in the open air. Lillie, my 13-year old, headed off with a couple young assistants. My 9-year-old son James and I teamed up with John, a more experienced climber, and his two girls.

I’ll admit to holding my breath watching James rappel down 100 foot cliffs. But nervousness turned to joy when he came down beaming—as proud of himself as I’d ever seen him. This was why we were here—to test and challenge ourselves, and to experience that exhilaration and joy together as a family.

When I next saw Lillie she proudly announced she’d climbed all the routes and passed all the tests for her skills cards. At some point Craig, one of the assistants, had us follow him to a route he’d set up near the trailhead. “Why don’t you give this one a try?” he suggested to Lillie. She studied the route and listened as Craig coached her through how to do a lay back. There was nothing easy about this route. She tried a couple of different approaches and struggled in places, but just kept at it until she got to the top anchor. When she was out of earshot, Craig told me that the entrance crack was classified as a 5.10b “I just wanted to know if she could do it,” he said.

These were exactly the moments I’d hoped for when I signed up for FM101. It’s not always easy finding activities all three of us enjoy together. The two kids are different enough in age that their interests and abilities don’t overlap much. We love camping and being active with friends outdoors, but when it’s just the three of us, it’s a lot to manage. And, we all need the company of others to make it fun and motivating.

Lillie blew me away, not only by mastering skills quickly and taking my breath away with her climbing, but by being a leader and a helper for our family. She kept track of our assignments, studied the course material and helped manage our gear.

James did great too. He didn’t always love listening to lectures, going through safety checks or practicing knots. He got frustrated when he forgot a knot or a technical term. All he really wanted to do was climb rocks. And climb more rocks.

Lillie Taylor Steward belaying at Horsethief Butte.

I did my best to keep up with them. Sometimes I scrambled to get gear and lunches packed after a long work week, or skimmed my way through a reading assignment. I showed up as prepared as I could be, and learned a ton. Our coordinators Brian and Kirsten did an amazing job presenting the material in a way that was engaging and empowering to kids.

All the assistants were great, including the kids who helped lead and teach the sessions. All were patient, kind and encouraging. All were competent and clear in giving instructions. When James was frustrated, they helped him keep going. When he stuck with something they gave him praise. When I was losing patience with him, they gently brought him back to focus with playful humor and respectful reminders so we could all succeed together.

I’ve had a great time climbing, and feel ready for more adventures. Lillie has joined a climbing club at the Rock gym. James is ready to climb more rocks and do more camping, and knows that he can learn difficult things. We met lots of great people and kindled friendships I hope will grow over time. All of us want to go climb mountains.

Lillie’s Perspective

by Lillie Taylor

I have been entranced by climbing since I was eight. Watching people scale the reaches of the world’s greatest peaks and hidden wonders has kept me entertained for five years and I have finally convinced my family to jump onboard with me. FM101 has been the perfect way to engage mom and James in something I’m passionate about and hope to continue in the future. After completing this class, I feel ready to complete all sorts new challenges. I have learned how to make myself feel secure on a wall, and put trust in myself and in others. I hope that I can come back to help with future sessions, and intend to become a stronger climber over time. This class was what I needed to feel confident in my own abilities.

James’ Perspective

by James Taylor
I really loved the climbing and the snow session. I liked how at the snow session there was a surprise, and there were a whole bunch of games in Mazama lodge. For the rock climbing part I really liked climbing and belaying.

Where to Turn When a Mazama Class is Full

by Sue Griffith

The Mazamas offer classes and activities to both members and nonmembers at all levels of experience. You can find seasonal offerings such as Basic Climbing Education, Intermediate Climbing School, Advanced Snow and Ice, Nordic, Ski Mountaineering, Mountain Running Camp, and Mountaineering First Aid. A variety of short, skill-builder classes are also offered year-round.

You can also choose from over 1,000 hikes and climbs offered each year. But what if you cannot find a Mazama class or activity that fits your needs or schedule? Both inside and outside of Oregon, there are numerous resources where you can get outdoor training, guided experiences, or a combination of both. The following is a sampling of some of the opportunities waiting for you from Chicks Climbing & Skiing, REI Outdoors, and Timberline Mountain Guides.

Other Local Training Resources:

Kaf Adventures
Skiing, snowshoeing, ice climbing, backpacking, rock climbing, mountaineering.

Next Adventure Outdoor School
Day hikes and overnight backpacking trips in Northwest

Portland Rock Gym
Instruction for climbers indoors and out; guided half and full-day trips.

Rare Earth Adventures
Cascade volcanoes climbing, rock climbing 101, bike packing, rappelling.

CHICKS CLIMBING & SKIING

This Colorado-based company was established to empower women through mountain sports. Dawn Glanc, co-owner and AMGA guide, spoke with me via email. She describes her target audience as, “any woman who is looking for climbing and backcountry skiing instruction.” Chicks offers beginner to advanced clinics in rock, ice, mixed and alpine climbing, and backcountry skiing. Courses are available throughout the United States and internationally. “No matter what your skill level is,” Dawn told me, “we have a clinic for you.”

With so many outdoor programs competing for recreation dollars, I asked Dawn what makes the Chicks program stand out. She emphasized their focus on developing strong women climbers and skiers in an all-female environment. “At Chicks, we strive to make you a confident and competent independent climber and/or skier. We give you the skills so that you can take on challenges and objectives on your own…our guides offer an opportunity for women to learn and ask questions in a fun and supportive environment. By having an all female group, we can break away from societal norms and truly immerse ourselves in the learning process.” Dawn shared how excited she and the other instructors get when a student reaches her goals and experiences that light bulb moment of understanding. “It’s awesome to see a woman get stoked and empowered in one split second. If we can pass on a solid foundation of skills and meet the client goals, then we have had a successful program,” she says.

If learning in an all-female environment has your name on it, Dawn suggests looking at the Chicks’ Red River Gorge Clinic in Kentucky. “The Red River Gorge Clinic is our most popular venue. I believe this is because of the timing and location of the program. The Red is an amazing place to climb and it offers the perfect classroom for the guides. This program sells out every year,” she said.
And that’s not all. The Chicks programs come with an added bonus—the camaraderie doesn’t end after one class. “When you join a Chicks program,” Dawn said, “you become part of a larger community of women who enjoy and pursue mountain sports. This is a great opportunity to gain instruction and meet other women to adventure with.” For more information visit www.chicksclimbing.com.

REI OUTDOORS

Not just a great outdoor gear provider, REI also offers a variety of educational programs. Aimed toward adults looking to learn a new outdoor skill, improve on skills they already have, or participate in advanced outings, these programs are staffed by highly trained instructors in a professional, yet welcoming environment. REI also leverages its considerable network of organizational partners to deliver an even wider array of programs. And it doesn’t stop there. Through REI Adventures you can find outdoor adventures around the globe to fit all types of backgrounds. And there’s even a limited number of youth programs.

Via email, I asked Stephen Hatfield, REI Outdoor Programs & Outreach Manager in Portland, Oregon, what one thing REI does better than anyone else: “At REI Outdoor Programs, our goal is to create life-changing experiences. An important part of this is learning a new skill, or discovering a new place. But another critical component is the human connection, meeting new friends and growing your network for outdoor adventures. REI members can be found across the country and beyond. We can help connect you to some great people, regardless of your passion.”

With so many educational possibilities, I probed Stephen for the most popular REI offering, and he couldn’t narrow it down to just one. “Our most popular options are Map & Compass Basics (2-hour class) and Backcountry Navigation with Map & Compass (5-hour field class). In this digital age, a growing number of outdoor enthusiasts see the value in honing this very important analog outdoor skill. Other popular program areas include paddlesports (kayak/SUP) and snowsports (snowshoe/Nordic skiing). Finally, one other very popular class is How to Ride a Bike for Kids—a 2-hour class in which we teach kids a lifelong skill that will help them connect to the outdoors. The success rate is incredibly high, and they don’t want to get off the bike when the class ends!”

When asked to sum up the REI Outdoors experience, Stephen told me, “A successful class is one where the participant leaves fulfilled and energized, ready to plan their next adventure and put their new skills to work.”

Find a current list of REI programs at http://rei.com/learn. REI is also able to develop private custom programs for groups of any size. To learn more reach out at portland-os@rei.com.

TIMBERLINE MOUNTAIN GUIDES, SMITH ROCK CLIMBING SCHOOL, AND OREGON SKI GUIDES

Known for “getting climbers to the top since 1983,” Timberline Mountain Guides (TMG) not only offers accredited guide services leading to summits but also offers a number of climbing classes and programs around the Northwest. As the name suggests, one of TMG’s most popular offerings is a two-day Mt. Hood program. It seems there are a lot of folks who want to stand on top of Oregon’s highest point but don’t have the skills to do it on their own.

I caught up with Cliff Agocs, TMG Owner and Operations Manager, via email to learn more about TMG and its sister organizations, Smith Rock Climbing School and Oregon Ski Guides. With three different entities offering such a wide array of services to the outdoor community, there’s bound to be something for everyone.

Cliff confirmed that folks look to his organizations for a diversity of guided objectives. “I’d say there are a few different goals that people have in mind when they join us for climbing or skiing. Most folks either join us to develop skills that they can take out into the mountains, or they join us to attempt a climb that they wouldn’t feel comfortable leading on their own, or with their regular climbing partners.” Cliff is particularly proud of TMG’s professionalism. In his words, “We’re a small group of career-guides and we take our role as educators and stewards of the mountains really seriously. Every one of our guides is a member of the American Mountain Guides Association and is actively pursuing their own continuing education. I think that putting ourselves in front of our peers for evaluation keeps us connected to the experience of our guests. We all consider ourselves mentees of our colleagues, just as we are mentors to the less experienced climbers who come to us to learn new skills. When you get down to it, we were all brand new to climbing once, and we’re all somewhere on the road toward mastery. That recognition helps to create a respectful environment where sharing knowledge, experience, and responsibility among every member of the climbing team is the expectation.”

He also emphasized the tailored nature of the classes. “We provide really personalized instruction based on your goals and skills—whether you come to us for a day of skiing, rock climbing, or an attempt on a remote summit. Then we pair you with a guide who has a combination of local experience, professional training and a genuine desire to create a positive experience for you. The recipe is simple, but the variety of experiences is infinite.”

This educational philosophy is reflected throughout the organization. Cliff told me he measures success not only when a student gains new skills but when that student leaves with the know-how to apply those skills properly. “Often in an outdoor education setting, participants will come in with varied backgrounds and different levels of knowledge and comfort with the prerequisite skills. This is actually a strength because it allows the instructor to empower students to coach each other and share in the teaching. Everyone leaves with a deeper understanding of the material, empowered to go and use those skills to push themselves just a bit further on their next adventure.”

With a staff roster skewed largely toward male instructors, I asked Cliff if he could accommodate female students looking for a female instructor or women-only groups. Cliff was sympathetic to the issue and told me they have female instructors in both avalanche education and rock climbing courses. He went on to say, “We think there’s a unique learning environment that can be created amongst women in the context of outdoor adventure, and we’re psyched to help create those opportunities. We don’t currently have any women who guide in the alpine on staff but we’re always on the lookout for solid guides of all stripes, so encourage all the great female guides you know to send us a resume!”

Finally, Cliff highlighted a few programs he thought might particularly appeal to Mazamas (see www.timberlinemtguides.com for details): Climber Self-Rescue, Crevasse Rescue and Glacier Travel, Mixed Alpine Climbing Camp, and Advanced Routes in the Cascades.

With this list in hand, there’s no excuse for not getting outside and turning outdoor dreams to reality. Climb high!

Mazama Courses Encourage and Inspire

The Mazamas offers year-round courses in outdoor sport for all experience levels. Whether you are just getting into outdoor recreation, or are a well-traveled adventurer, there is something for just about everyone. Our most well-known series is the Basic Climbing Education Program, followed by the Intermediate Climbing School and finally Advanced Rock and/or Advanced Snow and Ice Climbing.
However, the Mazamas doesn’t stop at the summit. Mountain and Ultra Running Camps, Wilderness Navigation, Nordic Skiing, Ski Mountaineering, Canyoneering, Families Mountaineering 101, and a whole host of smaller drop-in courses make sure that everyone can recreate safely in the outdoors. Our menu of offerings continues to expand and evolve, and can be found on our website mazamas.org/education-classes. Below are some hard-earned lessons learned from past course participants.

Getting Where You Want to Go

by Kristie Perry

Eight years after I moved to Oregon, I finally paid Smith Rock a visit. It was August 2003, somewhere around noon, and the park felt like a furnace. I was on my way home from Bend, having spent the weekend watching the Perseids, drinking too much wine, and smoking too many cigarettes. Through my hangover and the waves of heat, I watched climbers that surely must have been part gecko ascend and stick, ascend and stick, and then dance back down the wall like spiders. No way in Hell you’d ever catch me doing something like that. Ever.

Fast forward to 2013. I’d completed BCEP and summited a handful of glaciated peaks (because what else do you do once you’ve quit the booze and tobacco?). I’d been spending my Friday evenings at PRG with a charming Advanced Rock (AR) grad who thought it was perfectly reasonable to take me there on our second date. Even though I’d never been there before. (He kindly suggested I “rainbow up” the wall.)

And it is November 2013 and I am once again at Smith Rock State Park. For the second time. Ever. With the charming AR grad. And I am standing in front of Honey Pot on the Picnic Lunch Wall.

And I am standing in front of Honey Pot. And I am standing in front of Honey Pot. And I can’t figure out how to get off the ground. Charming AR grad’s climbing buddy gives me a butt belay and up I go. Alan Watts’ Smith Rock guidebook says Honey Pot (5.9, 3 stars) “begins with massive potholes leading to a knobby slab.” I remember none of that. I remember seeing no place to set my fingers or toes. I had no idea how I was going to climb that thing, but I knew I was going to climb it.

I cursed mightily and inched my way up. I pinched nubbins, I stood up on my feet, and I refused to let go. I looked for holds, I committed to moves, and I trusted my body to find the right balance. My heart pounded and my calves twitched. And on my first trip to climb at Smith Rock, I made it to the top of Honey Pot.

I’m never going to lead Chain Reaction. Ever. But sometimes when I get stumped by life, I think about that morning on Honey Pot and I’m reminded that everything I need to solve a problem is right in front of me and right inside of me. And that it doesn’t hurt to ask for a creative belay from a fellow climber. Climbers are always happy to help you get where you want to go.

Interview with Rebecca Ross

by Sue Griffith

High-quality educational programming is a central part of what the Mazamas offer to its members and the community. Each year, prospective students can find classes ranging from one day skill-builders to months long climbing and mountaineering classes. I asked Rebecca Ross, a recent BCEP grad, to share with us how Mazama classes have helped her to climb higher:

SG: Where were you in your outdoors/mountaineering/climbing journey at the start?

RR: I’ve been doing backpacking and hiking for about a year prior to this journey.

SG: What Mazama class(es) did you take and why?

RR: I took the Mazamas BCEP class after learning about it through the Mazama Winter Weekend. I wanted to take the class because I knew it would help me expand on what I already knew from my own personal backpacking trips, but also it would fill in some gaps where I lacked knowledge and experience.

SG: What did you do as a result of the class that you couldn’t do before?

RR: Mountaineering is something that I wouldn’t have been able to do safely prior to taking BCEP. I’ve always been interested in getting into mountaineering, but knew I wasn’t quite prepared to do so. Now I feel that I have a good basic understanding on knowing what precautions are needed to be safe and knowing my own limitations.

SG: What did the class lead you to try that you never imagined?

RR: I don’t think I ever pictured myself summiting mountains until after I completed BCEP. Now I’ve become a mountaineering enthusiast.

SG: How does that new skill make you feel/change your self-image, etc?

RR: I’ve become more cautious because I now know there are serious risks to everything I choose to do. However, I also have a better understanding about safety. I feel more confident in the decisions based on the skills I’ve learned.

Mazama Classes Lead to Unexpected Benefits

Editor’s Note: Josha and I (Sue Griffith) were BCEP classmates. I admired her abilities and engagement with Mazama climbing classes and asked her to contribute her story to the Bulletin.


by Josha Moss

I can’t say that I enrolled in BCEP with hopes of tackling as yet unimagined challenges. I had no ambition in mind other than getting into ICS or Advanced Rock. With no major goal other than learning more about climbing, that initial Mazama class morphed into a strong desire to learn trad and take AR because I really love climbing on rocks and want to share that with my friends.

While working my way through the Mazama climbing program, I not only grew my climbing skills, but also found a new community of friends, which allowed me to grow more authentically in ways I hadn’t really experienced before. Mazama classes provided a space for me to be present, while pulling away from a religious group I had been engaged with over the past 14 years. I loved the spirituality of this Christian group profoundly. I had spent years caring for their children and taking their teens backpacking and hiking. But despite my deep attachment, I found I could no longer tolerate their lack of support for female leadership and their firm stance against gay marriage. This realization came as I finally accepted I would never be attracted to men and recognized the truth of who I really am. I was open and honest about this new understanding with the ministers and elders of the congregation. They told me if I ever “acted on my tendencies” I would not be allowed in a leadership role with the children and teens—an age group I was already limited to since I was categorized as “female.” It was a heartbreaking transition to pull away from this group that was like family to me, despite how unhealthy it would have been to continue to support a community who did not support me, and where I could not live a fully authentic life or be supportive of all kinds of people.

Joining the Mazamas and enrolling in classes was a step towards branching out while still in my comfort zone with outdoor adventuring. At the time, my fear of trusting people made me very reluctant to be part of any organization; but the Mazamas proved a good choice for me. I have just completed AR and cannot express the extent of how enriching and fun it was. Rock climbing has had such a wonderful impact on my life—it provides physical, psychological, emotional, social, and even spiritual benefits. I am pleased with and grateful for where the Mazama classes have led me.

Basic Climbing Education Program Led Me to the Top of Oregon

by Avinash Agarwal

Snow is scary! Growing up in Mumbai, India, I did not see snow until I came to the U.S. as a 22-year-old graduate student. Two attempts at downhill skiing, both embarrassing failures, very quickly convinced me to stay away from snow-covered mountains for the rest of my life.

Fast forward a quarter century, where after living in the Pacific Northwest for a few years, I caught the hiking bug. After many hikes around the base of Mt. Hood with a local hiking group, I found myself captivated by stories from people who loved climbing mountains, and a few who had summited Hood. It seemed like a dream. A sweet, distant dream which would remain distant.

But something drove me to enroll in BCEP this year, which turned out to be the greatest opportunity of my life. The brilliant Mazama climbers volunteering their time, teaching us, working tirelessly for hours to train us, and captivating our hearts and minds with their energy and passion for climbing. By the end of the class, the bubble of comfort and fear was bursting.

A week later, I joined our BCEP leaders and a few other students from our class on a Mt. Hood climb from the south side. While we turned back from the Hogsback Ridge, looking at Devil’s Kitchen’s Headwall, I was sure I had never been to a more beautiful place in my life. I returned home, after being so close to the summit, very sore and immensely enriched.

Three weeks later, on the night of May 27, my friend Doug from the BCEP class and I headed up from Timberline Lodge once again. The climb was difficult, but I could feel the mountain welcoming us and urging us to continue on. Continue, we did, and at 7:20 a.m. we were standing on the summit of Mt. Hood. The first time for both of us and we were greeted with perfect weather, jaw dropping views, the deepest sense of wonder, and unimaginable beauty.

Sharing That First Climb

by Christine Yankel

Do you remember when you first climbed? Craning your neck, the feeling that there was no way in the world you’d make it up ten feet, let alone to the top, but then doing it? Discovering that tiny pebbles can hold you, that you can figure out the puzzle, that you could hold your partner’s fall? We learn so much in Mazamas, but what I’ve liked learning most is how sweet the feeling is of seeing kids have the chance to experience climbing.

As part of youth outreach, volunteers like Sheena Raab organize events so Mazama volunteers can work with kids in youth-serving organizations like Friends of Children and Adelante Mujeres. These organizations do amazing work with kids at risk, giving them skills and support to help them thrive. It’s humbling to play a part in it, belaying, encouraging. At the MMC, area gyms, and under blue skies at Horsethief Butte, the kids climb and learn, support each other, and radiate the joy of learning how much they can do, that feeling you had when you first climbed. We are so lucky to have mountains to climb. We are even luckier to have the chance to share this with others.

It Started at Horsethief

by Ed Conyngham

I attended Basic Climbing School in 1997, hoping to recapture the pleasures of hiking, climbing, and skiing I had enjoyed as a high school boy at Gresham Union High in the 1940s. At age 67, it was a late start for sure but the excitement, fitness, and camaraderie that came with BCS gave me the ability not only to go on climbs, but moved me to take Nordic ski lessons and teach Nordic too. Later I joined the Nordic Committee where I have served for a number of years. It’s been a great run and it all started at Horsethief Butte!

Best Mountain Science School Ever!


Mazama Mountain Science School (MMSS) wrapped up our third, biggest and best season yet in March. In fact, we beat our enrollment goals for 2017 by over 100 students! This winter we partnered with Centennial School District, Capitol Hill, Hayhurst and Irvington Elementary in the Portland Public Schools, and Sacramento Elementary School in Parkrose School District to provide science education to more than 600 4–5 grade students.

Over the course of three days and two nights, students learned about physics by sledding behind the Mazama Lodge, glaciology and snow science through snow shelter building, and other hands-on lessons that meet state science standards in math, science, and geology. Every session wraps up with youth presentations about an exciting topic they learned about to share with their fellow classmates. MMSS not only builds scientific literacy, but inspires the next generation of young people to care about our environment and mountain by building fun and meaningful memories of Mt. Hood.
A thank you to the Mazama Lodge for housing our students and instructors throughout the winter. Everyone, of course, enjoyed the awesome food and had a blast playing inside and outside the Mazama Lodge. Students got to take, what for many, was their first snow shoe hike on Mt. Hood, and this year we had the snow to do it!
We of course could not operate such an impactful program without our partners. Mazamas partners with Multnomah Education Service District (MESD) to provide quality education and programming at the Mazama Lodge. Our MMSS instructors are the same instructors who have taught hundreds of 4 and 6 grade students for Outdoor School and the Oregon Trail Overnight program. MMSS 2017 was managed by Shauna “Chomps” Stevenson, Amanda “Weasel” Duncan, and staff members Emily “Goose” Lootens, Kristoffer “Thunder” Thums, Celia “Mycelium” McLean, Brandi “Sparrow” Boyett, and Elizabeth “River” Longmire.

MSR provided snow shoes for our program, and BOGS boots donated warm boots. Both enabled our students to learn and play in the snow for hours. West Outward Bound also generously lent us extra rain and snow gear, snow shoes, and boots for MMSS students. As always, thank you to the Mazama members who generously support our youth programming and the Grey Family Foundation for helping make this program a possibility.

Bringing Kids to the Mountain

By Michael Vincerra

For a few short days in winter, under dreary gray skies, 5th-grade students are transported from the Centennial School District in Gresham and East Portland to the Mazama Lodge at the base of Mt. Hood. Transported not only to an alpine world of snow, adventure, science, and learning, but also to a classroom unlike any other. Volunteers, teachers, and parents assure that these students will spend three weekdays immersed in an alpine classroom, where they “learn how to learn,” with an eye toward stewardship of our natural resources.

For 5th graders who see Mt. Hood’s rugged profile from city streets, arrival at Mazama Lodge means a chance to explore nature and have fun. To parents, teachers, and volunteers, it means the chance to pass on a love of nature and curiosity to 11 and 12 year olds—hoping to inspire another generation of outdoor enthusiasts.

Since its inception in 2015, the Mazama Mountain Science School (MMSS) has grown its student body 4 times over, serving about 150 kids in 2015 to 650 kids in 2017. Whereas in the winter of 2015, it educated 3 schools of 5th grade classes, in 2017, it will educate about 11 schools of 5th grade classes.

The Mazamas partnered with the Centennial School District to fill a gap in the outdoor education system. As a result of this partnership, all seven Centennial elementary schools will be a part of MMSS. Elementary schools from the Portland and Parkrose School Districts also attend. MMSS offers a 5-to-1 adult to student ratio, which means fifth-graders get plenty of outdoor mentoring and skill development in a safe, secure environment, from professional instructors and volunteers.

“We couldn’t do the MMSS without Mazama volunteers, but the majority of the volunteer chaperones are parents of the kids,” says Ann Griffin, MMSS Project Coordinator. Chaperones guide the participants through 14 learning stations—from compass usage, mountain geology, animal tracking, volcanoes, plate tectonics, glaciers, the greenhouse effect, and more. The MMSS curriculum was developed as a collaboration between the Mazamas and the Multnomah Education Service District (MESD), who provides professional instructors. MESD is known for developing Outdoor School for 6th graders and Oregon Trail for the 4th graders. Shauna Stevenson, with the MESD, is largely credited as leading this curriculum development.

Griffin reflects, “I think as an organization we’re asking questions as we grow, ‘How do we make sure that we take care of our volunteers?’ ‘How do we plug people into what they really want to do? How do we make sure that they [volunteers] are recognized?’” In 2017, there are 11 different sessions of approximately 55–60 students who attend Mazama Mountain Science School. In groups of 3 –5, kids move through the learning stations with a chaperone, asking lots of questions. A chaperone could be a Mazama volunteer or a child’s parent. For 2017 Griffin estimates about 7 volunteer chaperones will participate. Mazama volunteers play a critical role as chaperones. For many of the students’ families, it is difficult to take three days off from work, for economic or other reasons. Mazama volunteers fill an important gap.

Freda Sherburne is an Environmental Educator, retired from Metro, and former ODS staff member who volunteers for Metro parks programs, leading K–5 students in science and nature activities. Sherburne volunteered with MMSS in 2015 and 2016. “Because of my background in environmental education, I was also able to take on a teaching role when needed or to help parent chaperones lead their activities.” Sherburne’s professional background was a great asset to MMSS. If only for the fact that children are exposed to alpine environments and their stewardship, the MMSS provides experienced volunteers to these fifth graders, placing them where they can make a big difference. Sherburne muses, “I do remember seeing the joy of the students as they did science activities outside in the snow. For some students, this was their first time on Mt. Hood.”

The MMSS is the centerpiece for Mazama youth outreach initiatives, which include partnering with Centennial School District for grant writing and curriculum development. Yet this is a school. So what are the educational outcomes? The goal is to get more kids into the outdoors. The difference is getting kids curious about things like how densely-packed snow can provide insulation, or how to find true north on a compass or by the North Star, by focusing on nurturing curiosity more than test scores. MMSS continues working with Centennial to find ways to reinforce the lessons that students learn on the mountain—their new classroom. “At the end of the school,” says Griffin, “we ask kids, ‘Do you think that you’d be more likely to come back here (Mt. Hood)?’ When the kids say ‘Yes,’ we consider that a win.

Mazama Mountain Science School
Est: 2015
Mazama Lodge, Mt. Hood
Website: tinyurl.com/MAZMSS
Contact: Ann Griffin,
Mazama Mountain Science School Project Coordinator
anngriffin@mazamas.org
MMC: M–TH: 10:30 a.m.–3:30 p.m.