Don B.
Yelp
Mt. St. Helens National Volcanic Monument offers one heck of a great hike/climb for the non-technical (but in-shape) aspiring climber. I just recently conquered this rock and still have the debilitating leg pain to prove it.
Permits are required for any climbing above the 4800' level on the south face, and the permits sell out fast. The hike can take from 6-8 hours depending on your speed and your best bet is to start off some time before 930am at the latest.
The hike is a nine mile round-trip affair, with an elevation gain of somewhere near 4500'. The first two miles of the hike gain maybe 500 feet of elevation through the trees. When you reach the tree line it goes straight up from there. You enter into a moon-scape rock-fall and cinder ash scree and for the next 2.5 miles you're is treated to a myriad of inclines from almost straight up to straight up to scrambling over boulders (still straight up). Caution is advised as many rocks are unstable and it's a veritable smorgasbord of ankle-breaking action.
After a long, arduous trek through the boulder fields you're at the top! Haha, nope. Not even close. You may feel like you've been climbing for hours (you have) and miles (you haven't). There could be commanding views from Monitor Ridge but we were fogged in on our way up so I can't confirm. As the boulders subside, you reach a GPS geologic monitoring station with a cool info plaque (which conveniently leaves out any information as to how high up you are). This is a great spot to rest, recoup and begin your testosterone-fueled macho desire to conquer the rock up the cinder slope
This section seems like it's "the last little bit" and that feeling keeps going on, like, forever. This is where the wind starts. The exposed ridge offers few windbreaks and all that sweat you've been accumulating in your clothing from the boulder scramble conducts that cold really well. Layers are key here. You can see your end goal throughout this pitch, which is good. It keeps the ever-incroaching misery from overwhelming you. Especially as the ash gets deep and it turns into an all-out sand dune. Nothing like ending your 4.5-mile straight-up hike with 1000' of fine-as-dust sand dune.
If you can survive every increasingly-difficult level of this self-torture, you are rewarded with some incredible views... well I'm sure they're incredible if it's not cloudy. Hey, even if it is cloudy you're likely above the cloud line up here, so it's sunny and beautiful anyway (as it was for us). The rim of the crater is other-worldly and beautiful in its own right. I'm sure the crater and dome are stunning (when not fogged in). You can spot various peaks from this level including Jefferson and Hood. But the biggest reward is your sense of accomplishment. Even when you're beat down, it feels fucking awesome. A windy, sandy, cold kind of awesome.
All this, and you're half-way there. See, the down-climb is not only as long and steep as the up-climb, but it's harder since you're going down boulders and your legs are already wasted. But all the way down you can look back up and amaze yourself that you came from all the way up there. If there's snow, you can probably ski or glissade down. We didn't.
If you're anything like me, the end of the hike will leave you feeling destroyed and euphorious at the same time. You'll be covered in a crusty mixture of ash, sweat and sunblock, and you probably smell like ass (especially if you camped the night before) but you won't care. The beer you kept waiting for you in your cooler in your car will taste like goddamn unicorn piss. It'll make rainbows come out of your ears. I'm serious.
Recommended equipment for this journey:
Gaiters
Trekking poles (your knees will seriously thank you)
Sunglasses (to keep the sun, wind and ash out)
Layers (weather can range from wet to dry to windy to sunny to sand-blast)
Something wind-proof (for the top)
Water (at least 3L - more for big fellas like me)
Food/energy. It's a long hike, and you'll burn a lot of cals.
Camera (even in bad weather it's beautiful)
Gardening gloves (protect your hands from the pumice while scrambling on boulders)
Beer (in your cooler in your car, to reward your successful return)
Trash bag (if there's snow, you can use it as a sled and save yourself some serious down-climbing)
Hat
A hiking buddy (to share your misery and egg you on, and to deliriously high-five at the end)
This should be on the list for any serious hiker or lover of alpine adventure in the PacNW. I can't say that I have all that much desire to do it again any time soon, but it makes me want to tackle other non-technical mountains in the area... maybe once my legs heal. For now my next monumental challenge is sitting down without tumbling over. And then maybe standing back up again, if I can.
Did I mention that my legs hurt? They do. In a very satisfying way.
Like the old volcano saying goes... BOOM!