Skiing Mount Saint Helens (as a Beginner) - May 2023 Worm Flows Trip Report

May 6th, 2023

Mileage: ~13-14 miles tracked (we climbed the standard Worm Flows Route but descended the skier's left ridge to seek some fresh turns!)

Elevation Gain: 5,887 ft

Elevation Profile:

GPS Track

Maps:

Route Description:

Worm Flows is Mount Saint Helens' standard winter route.

Begin at the Marble Mountain Sno-Park. A Sno-Park permit is required to park at the trailhead between December 1st and March 31st, and may be required in November and April at land manager discretion. Mt. St. Helens is located within Gifford Pinchot National Forest, so we also hung up our America The Beautiful Pass (the federal recreation pass).

Follow Swift Ski Trail #244 to reach treeline.

At Chocolate Falls (~3,700'), cross to the left side of Swift Creek. Follow the main ridge up towards the crater rim. A weather and seismic station is the last major landmark (elevation 6,200') until the false summit. A cornice (large, mass of snow overhanging open air) forms at the rim/summit and can release at any time, plunging into the crater. Stay at least 30-50 feet back from the edge and don't trust footprints you see. The true summit is a quarter mile west along the rim.

Descend the way you came, or, if seeking fresh turns, explore the neighboring ridges and gullies. Keep in mind snow/avalanche conditions when selecting terrain– and that eventually you want to rejoin the main Worm Flows ridge to ensure you end up back at your car.

Mt. St. Helens Institute has a great website with route descriptions, conditions, and other helpful info.

Permit Requirement and Crowding:

As of 2023, permits are limited between April 1st & November 30th. There is a cap of 350 climbers/day April 1-May 14 and 110 climbers/day May 15-October 31. These permits must be purchased online in advance; passes go on sale at 7AM PT on the first day of the preceding month (ex: May passes went on sale at 7AM April 1).

From December 1st to March 31st, there's no limit on the daily number of climbers (though group size is limited to 12 people). During this period, permits are free and self-issued at the trailheads. The last two weekends of March (right before permit fees begin) tend to be extremely busy – especially if the weather is nice. In 2021, the forest service predicted there would be ~1,000 climbers on the last Saturday of March.

The mountain felt crowded with the 350 person cap on the day we climbed, so if you'd like to climb before permits are required, I'd strongly recommend a weekday!

The energy is high on the mountain and it tends to result in a fun, party atmosphere. Vibes were good and I enjoyed sharing the beauty and stoke. However, the unfortunate reality is that such a large crowd on a mountaineering objective branded as "beginner friendly" can also sometimes result in unsafe conditions.

I saw multiple people glissade out of control or with crampons on (easy way to break your leg when the spikes catch).

More experienced parties on the mountain politely called these dangerous behaviors out and offered tips on how to safely descend. The advice was all well received; the glissaders were quite spooked by their own lack of control.

Several times, I stopped ascending to prepare to dodge inexperienced glissaders speeding down the mountain very close to me with little control (I recommend climbing as far as possible from glissade chutes, though in certain areas, like the false summit, there are a lot of them). The multitude of chutes can be hard to avoid when attempting to switchback up the steep slope on skis.

Helens is a great mountain to learn on, but it's also irresponsible to put others in danger high on the mountain due to your own lack of preparedness. Practice using your crampons and ice axe on slopes with safe runout, far away from others, before attempting steeper terrain. It'd be great to learn from an experienced mentor or guide, but at the very least research (Freedom of the Hills or many free resources online) and watch some AMGA/Mt. St. Helens Institute videos.

I'd recommend climbing late March to mid May for the best conditions– late season, the trail is snow-free and loose lava rocks/ash make travel more difficult.

Trip Report:

Greg and I drove down from Seattle around ~1PM on Friday the day before. With a couple of stops for food and gas, we made it to the Marble Mountain Sno-Park Trailhead just after 6PM. Three of our friends (the rest of our team!) arrived not long after us.

We slept in the parking lot and began our climb at 6AM the next morning. Greg and I have window shades for our car and slept super well. Highly recommend shades (or a sleep mask) and ear plugs if you're a light sleeper– people pull into the lot all hours of the night and early morning.

We clicked into our skis right at the trailhead, earning me my 50th day on skis– ever!

It was a muggy, wet morning. Heavy fog clung to the lower mountain. It was already lightly raining and the weather report wasn't too optimistic, but our team decided to go up anyway to check things out.

If conditions were really bad, we'd descend. But we already had the permits and delayed the trip once before – originally, we planned to climb April 22nd, but there was a big storm. Difficult conditions ensued, as well as many extra miles due to an unplowed road. As a new skier, I wanted a less challenging forecast for my first ever volcano.

I didn't get a good forecast, but to be fair that wasn't what I had wished for.

Since the road was "inaccessible" (at least to cars), we actually were able to get a refund on our first set of April permits. This isn't super common, since the road is plowed through most of winter and permits aren't refunded due to bad weather itself.

With this is mind, I kept an eye on the May permits page. All of the May weekends were already sold out, but eventually, a group bailed and returned their passes and I was able to grab 'em.

We skinned up the cross country ski trails for a few miles, taking a few different delayering breaks due to the wet and muggy air, until we eventually broke treeline and reached Chocolate Falls. It was definitely a soggy start.

Continuing up, the skinning conditions were a bit tricky. The rolling clouds would sometimes allow the sun to break through. The wet, and now sunbaked snow made uphill travel difficult. It was very easy to slip in the slush.

Our team was moving quickly, which made skinning even more difficult for me, as a new skier. I could keep up if I pushed my pace, but when I was focused on moving as fast as possible to stay with the group, I'd often cut corners on technique and end up paying for it when one of my skis would slide out on some slush.

This wasn't really the day I was envisioning. I had pictured a Type-I fun first volcano experience. I would have worn my pink facial glitter if I had any idea where it was in my apartment. I wanted it to feel like a party on a mountain, a celebration of my 50th day on skis (40 of them that same season).

I worked hard all season, honing my skills almost entirely in the resort, to prepare for this day. I wanted this ski to feel like the grand finale achievement of my efforts, not a sufferfest. Or, at the very least, I didn't want to feel like I was going to twist my knee and get hurt due to rushing.

I didn't want to feel like I was playing catchup all day long. Or exhausted, out of gas for the almost 6,000 foot continous descent because I chased my group up the whole mountain.

I tried to communicate this during a quick break. But half the team was already leaving again before my ski boot was even back on my foot from applying moleskin to my blisters.

This was stressful, especially because I hadn't skied with two of the group before, but Greg agreed. I was struggling on more slushy snow, trying to catch up to where the rest of the team waited on a ridge frustratingly far ahead. I wanted to continue the conversation, but after slipping again, eventually just gave up and called up to them that we should just split into two separate groups. This wasn't worth getting hurt over.

Splitting up like this was a mistake. We made an agreement to go into the backcountry together, we should have stuck together. Or, at the very least, we should have regrouped to have a real conversation about it.

This chaotic regrouping left Greg and I with no real sunscreen (except for a bad facial bar that doesn't apply well), since another group member had the communal bottle. We both got a bad sunburn that scarred my skin. I also would have had the other group members take a photo of our permit, which I carried for the team.

Since we don't climb often with two of the group members (one of them being from out of town), it felt like our group was pushing each other to climb as fast as possible just for the sake of egos. After the trip, we had a productive conversation about this.

I haven't always been a perfect partner, and no one ever will be. I've also had moments where I pushed a partner too hard (without first agreeing to it before/during the trip) for the sake of wanting to move faster for no reason other than ego (ie, wanting to complete the goal faster to have a faster time, but not due to safety such as trying to escape an impending storm/etc).

But being able to have a productive conversation where we really listened to each other and promised to work on becoming stronger team members was important to me. It reminded me of our many past successful outings together and instilled confidence that we'd have many more this season and in the future as well.

This season, I spent 40 days on skis including 4 lessons and 5 days (including this very St. Helens trip) in the backcountry/involving uphill travel. My ski skills had sky-rocketed but my aerobic fitness fell to the wayside. So, to become a better partner myself, I would work on my uphill fitness for the rest of our goals this year. And next season, I plan to spend a lot more days in the backcountry to hone my backcountry travel skills (like skinning technique, even in slushy/difficult conditions) and fitness, now that I have a stronger skiing foundation to build from.

Discussing trip goals, including pace, before setting out can help manage team expectations.

After splitting up with the rest of the group, I had a really, really lovely day with Greg. It was Type 1 fun all the way up and down. Basking in the sun, taking in the views between the rolling clouds, and gliding on up.

I felt grateful to be somewhere so beautiful with someone so amazing. Greg is an patient, kind, and confident partner.

We kept our skis on for most of the climb, but I A-framed mine to my pack for the final steep false summit push (~35 degrees in places). It was difficult for me to make kick turns across the steep, chunky snow littered with glissade chutes; I thought it'd be faster to hike straight up.

We actually ended up reaching the rim not long after the rest of our group, they were coming down just as we were cresting the false summit and making the final push up.

None of us bothered traversing west to the true summit point on the rim due to the lack of visibility. Most people stopped at the rim itself.

The cornice's deep crack extended pretty far back from the edge (at least 30 feet).

The whole trip took about 10 hours, with 8 hours for the ascent with a lot of breaks (and sunbathing). The ski down took about two hours at a very chill pace. We set off a few inconsequential wet slides in the gullies, though a group that cut higher into steeper terrain set off some bigger, but still pretty small, slides.

Greg and I were thrilled to ski down from the rim and false summit headwall. As we made our first turns from the icy rim, Greg called out, "we're doing one of our goals!"

I was proud to ski all the way from the rim; I was worried I'd be too scared to ski the headwall and would have to hike down from the top a bit. And I didn't fall! I felt super confident and in control the whole time.

Skiing has helped a lot with my fear of heights. As we climbed the route, I'd periodically look down, wondering when it would start to feel steep or scary, but it never did.

One of my favorite parts of the descent was the luge track out on the cross country ski trails. The glide through the forest was fast and fun, but not too speedy to require brake checks.