21.12.20 Mt. Baldy Winter Ascent

On the 20^th of December me and Samir would head out on our first true mountaineering climb.

Three years prior, I had seen a post on social media of a dozen or so climbers. They were kitted out in colorful jackets, crampons on their feet with flashy boots. Glacier goggles and climbing helmets adorned their heads. I wanted to be like them. Up in the frosty atmosphere, ice crystals sparkling red, green, and blue around me as I stood on the summit of Mt. Baldy.

I started reading more and becoming obsessed with the idea of mountaineering. Mountaineering sets itself aside from hiking because it involves technical use of niche equipment to ascend steep icy slopes. Mountaineering is an interesting discipline of hiking because it makes climbs unnecessarily difficult and hard just so you can access the mountain in a different time of year. A time of year where the morning will start sub-freezing and the winds atop summits can chill you to your bones. I read books such as Into the Wild and Into Thin Air by John Krakauer and became enchanted with the dichotomy of risk and peace that isolation in the mountains can bring. 

In January of 2020 my mom and I joined a wilderness basics class put on by the north country chapter od the Sierra Club. We learned essential skills about backpacking and navigation that I use to this day. We did two backpacking trips, one out to sand dunes in Anza-Borrego Desert SP and one through sleet and rain near Mt. Laguna.

Desert dunes backpack

In May of 2020 I began peak bagging with a group of older hikers, most older than sixty. I was their youngest member. Every Monday and Friday we would head out to the desert or San Diego hill country and climb little known peaks and points of interest. Funny enough I didn’t formally join this group of hikers – as they have no social media presence – but ran into them bushwhacking along a ridgeline. I asked to join their email list, and with the “John Strauch Hiking Society” and “Monday Maniacs” I began pursuing the San Diego 100 Peaks List (SD100).

John Strauch Hiking Society, where I first met them

In June of 2020 I climbed Mt. Baldy for the first time, the same mountain I had seen in the original picture of the colorful mountaineers. It took almost eight and half hours, and it was my first-time hiking to above 10,000ft of elevation. There was no snow or ice, but I felt on top of the world. A true accomplishment. Ten thousand feet! Now I just had to come back in winter.

First time up Baldy!

In late 2020 I also picked up a job working as a bagger at Vons. I knew the equipment required for a winter ascent would not be cheap, and I got the job solely for this reason (at first). I was determined. My first paycheck went toward mountaineering boots. A flashy pair of yellow, red, and green Scarpa’s. My second paycheck went towards a pair of crampons, essentially twelve triangle shaped knives on every foot that allow you to kick your toes into vertical snow and ice. A steel shank runs through the boots that allow you to stand on your toes, called ‘front-pointing’ when on steep slopes. A portion of each paycheck was spent in this way. An ice-ax, a climbing helmet, Gore-Tex gloves, a niche jacket. My hobby was getting expensive.

Expensive gear!

On my journey to buy all this gear I met Samir. Samir worked at an outdoor outfitter in Escondido and when I came in looking for boots and ice axes, he asked what I was planning. I told him that I hoped to soon ascend the Baldy Bowl, and he asked if he could join me. Coincidently he was also pursuing the SD100, so we hiked those together while we waited for a good snowpack.

(Note: The Baldy Bowl is a bowl-shaped face on Mt. Baldy that ranges from 30-45 degrees steep. This distinct face has a trail that traverses it 2000 feet below the summit, but in winter people leave the trail and ascend directly up the very steep face and climb to the summit. This poses a hazard, because if you slip you will essentially be sledding on your face down the whole mountain [a so-called “slide for life”])

I had bought a book called Mountaineering: Freedom of the Hills and started reading through everything pertaining to mountaineering. Specific ways of walking, where to place your thumb on an ice ax, the best type of pants. This book was hailed as the bible of mountaineering, and if I wanted to climb a mountain then I better read it.

By the end of I had done Mt. Baldy three times, and San Jacinto once (10,839). Despite having been to these, I still hadn’t got any in winter. I had also done a minor peak also over 10K near San Jacinto. The end of the year brought me to sixty-two peaks, 19  of which were on the SD100 list, and four ascents over 10K.

First time up San Jacinto 10,834' (starring Ted)

Soon 2021 was here and the snowpack was starting to build up. I read avalanche reports for the San Gabriel’s religiously. Chance wet slide avalanche, chance point slide avalanche, chance wind slab, chance terrain trap… what does this all mean? I realized it was somewhat naïve to ascend the bowl this winter. I knew far too little about reading avalanches, and while I had the gear, I didn’t have the experience.

On the first of February, Samir and I decided to head up the Ski Hut Trail, which leads to the summit of Mt. Baldy. Our goal was simple, test out our gear, break in our boots, and just maybe we would stay on the safer Ski Hut trail to the summit.

By the time we had made it to the Ski Hut, and the base of the bowl we were dead tired. Hiking in mountaineering boots, which have zero flex due to the steel shank in the sole was at least twice the effort of hiking on dry trails. Furthermore, I was able to identify a point-slide avalanche, which is where rockfall will trigger tiny but dangerous slides of loose snow. I should mention, that even though we may have seemed zealous and naïve, there were other people on the mountain that day who we saw ascending the bowl, despite lacking essential gear me and Samir had. Happy to have made it to the Ski Hut, and we turned back to the car. It was fun to take our gear out.

Baldy Bowl w/ avalanche

Samir & a random stranger's dog; resting at the Ski Hut

Time continued to move on, with a bowl ascent that winter out of the question. As we entered 2021, I set my sight on the Sierra Challenge and high-altitude hikes. It was time to wrap up high school and continue peak bagging.  Better luck next winter.

Following my graduation, I planned a trip for me and Samir. The goal was to spend a week in eastern California peak-bagging at high elevations. We would spend a week on the east side, of which we spent five nights sleeping at high elevation (>10K). I climbed my first 13er and 14er (peaks over 13K and 14K). I would make my first attempt at a sierra peak but was turned back by loose talus.

From my highpoint on Mt. Tom (A.K.A I hate Talus) 

Over the course of the summer, I would make another three trips to the east side. I would make multiple successful solo summits of easy peak over 11,000ft, fly fish in the Big Pine Creek drainage, and join up with other mountain people to day hike 13ers outside of Bishop, Ca. Reflecting on this summer, it has been the highlight of my life. I found more than challenge in the mountains, but purpose. I climbed 12 peaks over 11,000ft while in the Sierra. Feeling more experienced and wiser in the way of mountain travel I returned to SoCal.

With new friends in new places

Big Pine Lakes & Temple Crag

All good things must come to an end, so summer ended, and I moved to Santa Barbara for school. I worked through my weekends studying to my general chemistry course, a class specifically designed to thin out incoming STEM majors – whether that be by switching majors or dropping out. Over the course of 11 weeks, I would only hike three times.

Dorm life

Luckily for me, the fall quarter has many holidays, and I was able to escape from my studies on Veterans Day for my fourth summit of Mt. Baldy. Despite not having done an intensive hike in months I was still able to do it in five hours. It was encouraging and reminded me that I needed to take time to do what I enjoy.

Baldy reunion 

I remember coming back to my dorm one night on the verge of tears. I had been on campus for nine hours or so, and I just missed the summer – a carefree time where I could hike at any time of any day. My friends were in the lounge and asked me what was wrong. I told them – I missed hiking, I wanted to go hiking, but I felt like I shouldn’t. That I couldn’t take time away from studying, and even if I could I would feel guilty of not being productive. I told them that I felt like hiking was part of my identity, and by not hiking and spending time in the mountains that part of me was slipping away. In that way, a war was waged in my mind. Every day I craved the “freedom of the hills” but I also craved academic accomplishment – I grew blue and gloomy, hours at a desk didn’t please me the same way walking does, but time away from studying riddled me with nausea from anxiety. Some morning I would wake up with tremors in my hands, panicking over the workload I had that day. While taking tests sweat would bead down my face, I had to do well, there is no other way. I couldn’t leave my desk; every minute was valuable. Hiking had taken a backseat, and my summer bliss had dissolved into the Santa Barbara fog.

I trudged my way through finals week, finding comfort in Bob Dylan songs – “Don’t think twice, it alright” became a daily motto. Step after step, study session after study session, and eventually it was over. My hard work paid off, and I finished the quarter with excellent grades, but at a cost. Part of me had slipped away, as I had predicted.

Before I had even left home for winter break, I had hikes lined up. It was time to enjoy myself and catch up on what I had missed out on. On Friday, the 10^th of December I was going to hike up the first portion of the San Jacinto trail. I was excited for this hike, the day before it had snowed a few inches and I knew I was in for an alpine treat. I left home at 4:00 AM and got to the trailhead before the sun rose, around 6:00 AM. The air was sub-freezing and nipped at my noes and cheeks. I realized there was a few more inches of snow than was predicted for this elevation and soon the tops of my thin running trail running shoes were getting covered. I was the first one up the trail since it had snowed, leaving my tracks behind me in the crystalline powder. I ended up hiking eight miles round trip, turning back earlier than I had hoped because of cold toes. It was of no matter; it was a great day amongst snow and ice.

Amongst snow and ice near San Jacinto

A few days after that hike another storm system was descending on SoCal. It was predicted to dump upwards of three feet on our high summits, which would mean excellent coverage on Baldy. It was also predicted to have slow levels as low as 4000ft, with down to 2500ft if we were lucky. Knowing Samir was back for break we made plans to head to Baldy.

Unfortunately, the forecasts were wrong. Snow line remained high, and a measly eight inches was recorded at San Jacinto’s summit - a symptom of the times. We abandoned our plans for Baldy, concerned over the coverage, and instead made some more laid-back plans to head up Jacinto. Jacinto by the standard routes doesn’t require any steep ascents but would be a more mellow snow day. We set a date for Monday 12/20/21. As anticipation built of another high elevation hike, I browsed Instagram and Reddit trying to find pictures of conditions on Mt. Baldy. I typed in “Mt. Baldy” as the location to Instagram and searched for the most recent. Wow! It seemed a plethora of weekend warriors had descended upon the mountain face, ascending the bowl despite the bare conditions. SoCal Snow, a website that reports on winter conditions in SoCal had reported firm and icy conditions on Mt. Baldy, but too little coverage for avalanche danger.

It seemed that despite the lacking coverage, a few days of barely above freezing temperatures and nights in the 20’s had firmed up the snow into perfect mountaineering conditions. I sent out a text to Samir, and we changed the objective. We would be returning to Mt. Baldy not even a year from our Ski Hut trail hike, and if the conditions were right, we would summit. 

Monday had arrived and I woke up at 3:20 AM. I had packed my gear the night before, 20lbs of it, and it lay by the door. I heated up some breakfast sandwiches in the microwaves fuel me for the long day ahead. I lugged my backpack to the car and met Samir at a park & ride next to the I-15. Samir drove us through the morning [night] hours in his Tacoma. We talked the whole way, reminiscing of our trip to the east side and our days exploring desert peaks.

On the drive in we could see bands of snow reflecting the full moon’s light in shadowy gullies and on distant mountain faces. It almost seemed as if we had exited reality. We arrived at the trailhead around 5:45 and only two other cars were to be found. The cold morning air chilled us to the bone, sub-freezing. We saw a glassy sheet of ice on the gated road that leads up the trail. We suited up, attaching our ice-axes to our packs, extended our collapsible trekking poles, turning on our headlamps. We began up the trail. As we rounded the corner, we could see the full moon. It was setting, and as the descending light kissed the mountain ridge, we stopped to take a picture.

Moon kissed ridge

For a moment it was quiet. The leaves rustled in the wind; the distant San Antonio falls was humming. Its silvery threads of water spilling peacefully over the three-tiered cascade, lacing together and embracing as they fell. Then the wedded streams of water would strike a block of gneiss, explode away from each other, and rejoin in the stream below. It was beautiful. I looked up. Mt. Baldy was 4000ft above us, painted in white and black against the slowly lightening sky. I could see the chutes, the glow of the morning light against the snow, and I knew the summit was just beyond that. We continued to head up the trail, the sky lightening more. I turned around.

The sky had been painted with pastels; the thin clouds high in the atmosphere that had previously been hidden by darkness were breathed into with life. The sky seemed to shout with joy, flaunting gorgeous tones of orange and pink. Against the sky was Ontario ridge, illuminated by the departing moon and soaking in the new day. The earth was alive, and the sentient mountains called to me.

Painted sky

We continued to hike up the trail at a good clip, three miles per hour or so. As we gained elevation more and more patches of snow accumulated around us. The valley below us grew further and further away. As we hiked on, we would stop the shed layers and take pictures. The further up the trail we got the more of the bowl we can see. The sun was now shining its light upon the earth, first starting with the high mountain faces. An orange stripe of the sun’s golden light lit fire upon Mt. Baldy’s south-eastern face. The chutes and gullies and wide expanse of snow rejoicing at the new day, their faces growing rosy.

Firey light upon the hillside

Within an hour or so Samir and I had made it to the Ski Hut. The Ski Hut is a small cabin two miles or so up the trail. It was built by the Sierra Club and serves as a permanent camp for rent in winter, for backcountry skiers who want to hike up and ski Baldy Bowl. We stopped to get a sip of water and observe the mountain before us. We decided that it would be best to head up the bowl on the west side, where there seemed to be the most snow. It was also the shortest side, and due to our lack of experience, we thought it best to only risk an 800ft or so slide, rather than the full 2000ft slide the main chute would offer. Once we ascended the Baldy Bowl, we could follow the ridge another 1200ft to the summit.

The left side of Bowl from Ski Hut

It was eerie being at the Ski Hut alone. With a huge population center nearby and famous for being one of the hardest hikes in LA in addition to the highest mountain in SoCal (it is neither), you would be hard-pressed to not run into someone when hiking here. It seems the story is different at 7:00 AM on a weekday, and we had the Ski Hut all to ourselves.  We decided we’d keep our trail runners and hiking poles out until we got to the base of the climb, then find a good rock and switch over into our mountaineering kit.

As we began to follow where the Ski Hut Trail crosses the base of the bowl, we saw rocks and ice zipping down and blistering speeds; fast enough that you wouldn’t want to be in their way. I had heard about this. In the winter, water seeps into the craggy rock spires that adorn the top of the bowl. Through the night the water will freeze gluing the rock together but also expanding the cracks and fractures. In the morning the sun hits the rock again, and the mountain begins to slowly crumble. Because of the snow on the ground, the rocks hit the surface and gain speed, sliding, and tumbling their whole way down. Taking caution of this Samir and I stopped to put our helmets on and crossed the bowl as quick as possible.

Soon we had reached the base of the west side of the bowl. We departed the trail for a few hundred feet and stopped to put our gear on. First, I put on my waterproof rain pants, which would serve as a hard shell to keep snow out. Then I put on boots, over those went gaiters, which stop snow from getting between your boot and pants. Then I attached my crampons to the boot. Finally, I put on a fleece, having taken it off on the hike in.

Our gear-up rocks

It was time. We were finally here. We would finally be ascending the bowl. I must say, that mountaineers almost universally agree it is empowering to hold an ice ax and have crampons on your feet. It just looks badass, even if you’re a total kook and noobie to mountaineering. I digress. We stood up and began our march up the bowl. The gradient slowly shifted to become steeper, and we became more attentive to our steps. A slip and fall here would not be good. The ice ax is carried so that in case of fall you can dig the ax side into the snow and hold on, hopefully arresting a slide. It also doubles as a walking stick, and you can whack it into the mountain to give a handhold.

It got steeper and steeper, and soon we were a few hundred feet above the base of the bowl. Adrenaline started to pump. With each step we ascended higher and higher up the mountain. Samir was valiantly leading the way up. The snow got much firmer, and soon only the points of our spikes were sticking in. I switched to a more intense climbing positing, dropping my knees and shins to the mountain slope, kicking only my toes into the ice (called front-pointing), and whacking my ax in above me. In this way, you can stand on your toes and grab onto the ice ax. We ascended more, and the snow got even more firm and the gradient steeper. Again, we switched techniques. Now we would use the back of our ice axes, a sharp hoe-like instrument called an adze to cut steps into the ice. This allowed us to slowly make it up, step by step. Adrenaline was racing, but we were almost to the top, just had to manage a few more steps. Step, whack, step, whack, eventually we crested the bowl. I asked Samir to go ahead up the last few feet and take a picture of me. I was on cloud nine. We had ascended to bowl without incident, and we just had a bit more to go. I went ahead of Samir and did the same for him. Taking a picture of him against the bowl, Ontario ridge and the sky behind us. 

Topping out!

Topped out on the bowl!

We were at 9000ft now and just had a simple walk up to the summit. Unfortunately, the zero-flex soles of mountaineering boots are alike to hiking in ski boots, and we both knew the walk would take a while. We slowly ascended the last mile of trail, step after step, foot after foot. There was more snow up here, and all around us a white blanket was covering the rolling ridges and steep drop-offs.

Blanketed ridgelines

Soon we approached a wood sign. An arrow pointed up the mountain “Mt. Baldy Summit” and an arrow in the opposite direction pointing to “Manker Flat” (the trailhead). I knew this mean we only had a bit more to go, a final hill with maybe 200 vertical feet to gain. Where the trail usually switchbacks up this last section, the snow had erased that, and we made a beeline for the summit. Moving at an excruciatingly slow pace we began to feel the wind whip on our faces and through our hair, it meant we were close.

Beeline for the summit

 

Then a saw it. There is a sign at the summit of Mt. Baldy that points towards all the trails; Bear Ridge, Ski Hut Trail, Devils Backbone. The summit was just a few steps away. A few steps later just below my feet was the summit plaque, sunk into the ice around it. It read “MT. SAN ANTONIO ‘MT. BALDY’ 10,0644FT”. We had done it.

Summit & ice ax! 

Happy on the summit

We descended the mountain about thirty minutes after our arrival at the summit. It took us about two an a half hours from the summit back at the car, stopping every once in a while to de-layer or remove our boots and don our hiking shoes. 

Samir descending 

We soon reached Samir’s Tacoma. On the windy drive down out of Mt. Baldy Village Samir mentioned to me he had been wondering if we would actually get to climb the mountain together, seeing as it was what brought us together. I’m happy to say we did.