Mount Baker - Coleman-Deming Ski

AlexMitchko
Feb 23, 2023
4 min read

Updated: Mar 30, 2023

Mount Baker is the highest peak in the North Cascades at 10,781 feet or 3,286 meters for our international folks. With such prominence, it can easily be see from oceanside communities outside of Bellingham to as far north as Vancouver. As you drive around northwest Washington and southern BC, one cant help but be drawn to this magnificent peak.

I first saw this peak on a mountain biking trip to Bellingham in the summer of 2020 and knew from that moment I had to come back to climb and ski it. In late June of 2022, the perfect weather window presented itself so I packed by bags, got in my car and drove north in hopes of catching a few perfect days on Baker.

After catching up with my brother who just so happened to be on a work trip in Seattle, I was only a few hours away from the trailhead to start my solo trip. Arriving at the 'trailhead' was a sight to be seen. Due to immense flooding from the year priors snowfall, the road had washed away more than four miles away from the Heliotrope trailhead. Just a small hiccup really; the washout added an additional 4.5 miles and 2,500' vertical to adventure. I started on the morning of June 21, 2022 at the road washout to classic Washington conditions consisting of dense fog with moments of sunshine peering through the trees. After about two hours I made it to the true trailhead and began to move my way on up, finally feeling like I had made some headway towards my goal. After another three or so hours and one river crossing later I was finally on snow working towards the glacier.

Once I got off the marked trail and onto snow, the clouds parted for my first view of Mount Baker which was stunning. Steadily moving along, I continued to stick with my gore-tex approach shoes rather than switching to my boots and skins to get to camp, and I'm happy I did. I was lucky enough to have enough traction with my shoes and was moving fast enough to alleviate my boots from getting soaked. I made it to a nice flat section of the glacier around 2:45pm, had camp setup in about 30 minutes, and proceeded to take a beautiful nap until about 6pm. This sleep was much needed after getting terrible rest the few days prior as I was driving and sleeping in my truck. Waking up at 6pm to completely blue skies reassured me that I had made the right choice by coming up here for the weather window. After a dehydrated meal and water, I got into my sleeping bag ready for an alpine start the next morning.

Weather was calm overnight, but as my alarm went off at 5am and I peered out of my tent; there was dense fog forbidding me from starting that early. I gave it another hour and a half and finally had bluebird skies all around me.

Once out of camp, the route finding was pretty simple- don't go near the gapping crevasses and aim for the ridge. Once I gained the ridge the temperatures dropped and the wind picked up. The snow surface was near bulletproof which provided perfect supportable climbing conditions as I had switched to boot crampons at this point. After another two hours I was at the headwall utilizing both ice axes just to increase my safety margin. This might've been my favorite part of the climb/ski. Nothing beats some front pointing and daggering with skis on your pack. Once on the summit plateau I made my way to the true summit and reveled in the moment for a few minutes. After some summit selfies and added layers, it was time to descend.

Putting on my skis was a great feeling besides the fact that my water bottle slipped out of my bag right as I was reaching for it; they would've been my first sips of water for the day. Bummed that I lost a cool water bottle and unintentionally littered, I began to make my way back down the bulletproof snow I ascended. Shearing some short radius turns like nails on a chalkboard, I made it off the steepest section to take a breath of relief for a moment.

Constant questioning of my own decisions while travelling solo in the mountains is a delicate dance to mange. "Should I really be skiing this or should I just down-climb?"," If I fall, will I be able to self arrest before those crevasses?", " Why am I even up here?". These thoughts flow between calculated risk management and utter self-doubt while alone up high. Conquering the fear isn't about overcoming it, it's about using it to recognize where you are and engaging with it to make the right decisions.

As I descended towards camp my fears were gone. Making smooth turns in corn snow for what felt like hours was exactly what I needed to decompress from the upper mountain exposure.

After packing up camp and making some water, I was ready to get back to my truck. Following my ascent path was quite enjoyable on skis rather than in approach shoes. Once the snow gave way to dirt it was a nice A-framed walk back to the car.

As I got back to my car after hours of walking downhill on the washed out road, it all hit me. This feeling of gratitude for safe passage to the top of this objective. The only thing left to do was a cold plunge in the runoff that destroyed the road to the trailhead.