Climbing and Skiing Lassen & Shasta: Day 7 of 7

Field Notes

Jun 6

Day 7: Shasta Summit Push

as always, the full gallery is at the bottom, so skip there if you don’t care about the words

Three AM came early. I had a quick breakfast of oats, packed my bag the night before, and I was still excited despite the early hour. I set up my camera on a tripod before heading out, thinking about that shot—tent lit up with the mountain glowing behind it in the moonlight. That was going to be rad. I got that set up, enjoyed the quiet morning for a bit, and then it was time to move.

I grabbed my camera gear, packed only what I needed for the climb, and left the rest at camp. No skis today. I was here to photograph mountaineering for Big Agnes, not to ski. So I had on my boots, my crampons, my ice axe. I was ready to climb. The snow was perfect that morning. Super crusty. The kind of snow that makes movement feel fast and efficient.

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About thirty to forty-five minutes in, I realized I had forgotten my helmet. I just stopped and stared for a second. I had literally told myself the night before to pack it on the outside of my backpack. Instead I left it in the tent. So I turned around, hiked all the way back to camp, grabbed it, and started the whole climb over again. An hour and a half lost to a simple mistake. That is what happens when you rush and cut corners. You live and you learn.

The rest of the climb was relentless. Avalanche Bulge is a grind. One step after another in the dark with only your headlamp showing what is directly in front of you. Then slowly the sun starts to peek out. Blues and yellows start to paint the sky. The day breaks and you can finally see where you are going. But Avalanche Bulge sits in the shade through the morning so you are cold the whole time. You want a puffy jacket but you are moving too hard to wear one. So it is fleece layers, gloves on, gloves off, beanie on, beanie off. Constant adjustments as your body temperature swings up and down.

The whole thing reminded me of my days as a swimmer. That love of suffering. Type two fun. You choose to be here so you might as well enjoy the misery of it.

I made it to the Thumb, this feature that marks the end of the steepest climbing. Still two and a half to three hours to the summit but the hard work is mostly done. I sat down to eat and warm up in the sun. That is when someone walked over and asked if I had an InReach device. They needed to call SOS. Their friend was in trouble.

Camera Gear I Packed For The Shasta & Lassen Project:

Sony a7r4
Tamron 16-30; probably my favorite lens right now
Tamron 28-75; I think this is the best all around focal length
Tamron 70-180; I don’t use this a ton, but it’s a great lens
Peak Design Tripod
Peak Design Lite strap (I was lucky enough to get the camo version from the Sitka collab that sold out in less than 24 hours and feel cool about that)
GoPro 13

I am a Wilderness First Responder. So I asked what was going on and got the details. One of their friends had gotten into trouble on the mountain and they needed help. I had the most experience so I ended up spending about two hours on that ridge helping coordinate a rescue. We got search and rescue involved. The sheriff's department. Eventually a helicopter came and picked the person up. It was nerve wracking and sobering and also a reminder that when you go into the mountains, this is part of the risk.

Once the person was airlifted off the mountain, I talked to the guy who had asked for help. I offered to walk down with him. He told me to go ahead and summit. He was fine going down on his own. So I kept pushing.

On the way up I met the owner of Shasta Mountain Guides. We talked about Epic Bill Bradley because I made a documentary about him and this guy knows Epic Bill. We laughed and chatted and hiked together for a bit. When you are climbing alone, sometimes that connection with another person is exactly what you need to break up the monotony.

I pushed harder after that. Made it up Heartbreak Hill and suddenly the summit was close. Really close. I could see it. I summited Mount Shasta at just over fourteen thousand feet. The day was beautiful. The views were perfect. I sat up there, ate two bars, and just took it all in. I was halfway done. Still had to get all the way back down.

The descent was so much faster. I glissaded down the mountain on my butt, using my ice axe to control my speed the whole way. Think of it as the world's largest slip and slide at fourteen thousand feet. What took several hours going up took a fraction of that coming down. I got back to camp around noon or one o'clock. Just lunchtime even though I had been awake since three in the morning.

I went through all the photos, made sure I had quality shots that told the story of the climb. Then I texted Kristin back home. That is when it hit me. I had work waiting in Tahoe. I had things that needed my attention. I needed to pack out today if I was going to drive home tomorrow.

So with about forty-five minutes to an hour before sunset, I packed everything up. Both backpacks and my skis were waiting at camp from the day before. I strapped one backpack to my front, one to my back, grabbed my skis, and headed out. I was absolutely cooked but also somehow chipper. Tired does weird things to your brain.

I skied as far as I could from camp and then walked the rest of the way out. By the time I got back to the van it was dark. I unloaded everything, organized it all so it would dry out properly overnight, and fell asleep in my van. What a day. What a week. I was done.

Again, thank you to anyone and everyone reading this. If you have enjoyed this journal entry, shoot me an email to say hey: dj@dalton-johnson.com

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