DATE HIKED:6/21-6/24/24

TOTAL MILEAGE: 43 MILES

TOTAL ELEVATION GAIN: 9,400’

In 2021 I attempted and failed to summit Mt. Olympus. It was one of my first big mountain experiences after taking a mountaineering course and the mental and physical tolls of the climb left me feeling completely frayed before we even made it to the summit block. I knew that continuing on could be unsafe in my condition so I made the very difficult choice to stop climbing as I watched from afar as everyone else in my group went on to summit. I was so grateful for my time spent on the mountain but there was also a small part of me that felt I had unfinished business on Olympus. I didn’t actively seek out another opportunity to climb the mountain but another opportunity came to me this summer. My friends Sander and Dan were planning to climb Olympus over the solstice weekend and since I had already been on the mountain they asked me for plenty of beta on the climb. During one of our conversations Sander asked if I just wanted to join them. I thought about it for a few moments and that small part of me that wanted a second chance to climb Olympus piped up and said “Yes!” I requested off work and it was set. I was going to go back.

We planned to do the trip in four days (compared to three last time) and this was one of the aspects that really attracted me to doing the climb again. While the trip is totally doable in three days, it makes each day day long and difficult and doesn’t allow for much rest before summit day. I never wanted to do the three-day route again. Instead we planned to break the hike to Glacier Meadows into two days before summiting on day three. It felt much more manageable than three huge back to back to back days.

As our trip approached we began to check the weather often and it was not looking good, with an incoming storm front forecasted to hit the mountain on our summit day. We talked about trying to squeeze the climb back into three days and summit a day earlier than planned but there were no permits available so we were tied to our original plan—plus I was ardently against the three day option based on my previous experience. We decided to do the trip as planned and reassess as needed. The hike through the Hoh Rainforest is spectacular and even if we didn’t get to summit we would still get to enjoy four days in one of the most beautiful rainforests.

We arrived to the park on Friday, 6/21 around 1PM and were surprised to find a long backup of cars at the entrance. A sign on the side of the road informed us that we were still 1.5 hours from the park entrance. The parking lots were all full and so the park enacted metered parking. When we eventually inched our way up to the entrance booth we talked with the ranger and he said that in the summer the metered parking happens every single day, even week days. He said that the issue stems from how many backpackers and climbers park in the lots and leave their cars for days on end, it leaves a limited number of spaces available for other cars and so they have to enact the one-car-in-one-car-out policy. To me it seems like a backpacker shuttle would help alleviate this problem but I’m sure something like that would require running a bureaucratic gauntlet through all the red tape, so for now the problem remains.

Starting the hike nearly two hours later than expected left us feeling a little rushed but luckily the first stretch of trail is relatively flat and the miles quickly ticked by. It felt great to be back in the lush Hoh Rainforest, cradled in an array of greens and yellows.

The miles tallied up quickly but after a spring full of day trips my body was not used to carrying the overnight weight. With my camping and climbing gear and a required bear can, my pack tipped the scales at just under fifty pounds. Despite using my well-worn in and well-loved backpack the straps dug in and I resorted to shifting the weight every couple of minutes to ease the pain. My feet also ached under the extra weight. This was one thing I did not expect nor prepare for. Most of my spring miles were done on skis with only a day pack so walking with an overnight pack felt noticeably different and I tried my best to adapt.

After 4.5 hours of hiking I hobbled into camp at Lewis Meadows. Sander and Dan were faring much better than I was and I felt a vague sense of guilt that I glommed onto their trip and now was holding them back from going faster or further.

Lewis Meadows was already packed with campers by the late hour we arrived but we found an open site near the Hoh River, quickly set up camp, and got to work boiling water for dinner. The long day left us all weary and we headed to bed shortly after dinner. Camping within earshot of the river was marvelous. I was lulled to sleep almost immediately and slept deeply until my alarm sounded early the next morning. While we “only” had about seven miles and 3,400’ of gain to Glacier Meadows we wanted to get there relatively early to do some quick rope practice before an early bedtime.

Sander descending the infamous ladder just before Glacier Meadows

As we ascended to Glacier Meadows we began to run into climbing parties who had attempted the summit the day prior or even that morning. We were surprised to find out that most parties were beginning their climbs as early as midnight or 1AM due to poor snow conditions—the snow hadn’t been properly refreezing overnight and it was getting soft much earlier than expected. Many groups hadn’t summited at all due to these snow conditions! This news left me feeling deflated. The conditions just did not seem to be aligning for us. But, we continued on and made it to Glacier Meadows just after noon. So many groups had left in the morning that we had plenty of options of campsites to choose from and settled into a nice site situated above the river. I was looking forward to another night, albeit brief, of sleeping within earshot of the river.

Once camp was set I wandered into a clearing to try to send Alex a message on my InReach. While I was waiting for the signal to connect a climber walked by, he looked to be in slightly higher spirits than the other climbers we had run into during the mornig. He said hello and I asked him how his climb was. He said that his group was the first successful summit of the day and they had left at 1AM. I checked my watch, it was 1PM. He reiterated the importance of leaving early—the snow was getting dangerous and sloppy—but also told us that the Fourth of July route was still in. That is the route that ascends right up the north face instead of traversing around the backside via Crystal Pass. The route is named due to the fact that by the Fourth of July most years crevasses on the face open up and the route is out. I congratulated him on the summit, thanked him for the beta, and hurried back to camp to fill in Sander and Dan on what I had learned.

We decided that we would begin our summit push at 1AM. Alex had come through on the InReach with a detailed weather forecast from NOAA (it hadn’t changed much since we set out the previous day) and it seemed we would likely be spending the morning in a cloud with potential rain showers and a chilly high of 32 at the summit. We still wanted to give it a go. We would assess conditions often and turn back if the weather got too gnarly.

My alarm sounded at 12:15 and for a moment I considered just continuing to sleep, but then my motivation kicked in and I sat up and began gathering my gear. It felt weird to be getting ready for the day so deep in the middle of the night. I was tired and already feeling defeated by the forecast but I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind.

At 1AM on the dot we began our climb. We were certainly in a cloud and dew soon began to accumulate on my camera and layers. After about 45 minutes we were on top of the moraine, still in the thick of a cloud. As we traversed the crumbly pile of rocks I thought I saw a wink of light in the distance through the mist but I told myself it must have been my eyes playing tricks on me. But then it happened again and again. It had to be another group of climbers far below us on the Blue Glacier, their headlamps piercing through the cloud. It seemed like a good sign.

We carefully picked our way down the moraine and soon joined that group of five down on the glacier. They were nearly finished roping up just as we pulled our ropes and glacier gear out of our packs.

Just as I was stepping into my crampons I saw another light in my peripheral, but this was not just a wink. The moon was rising above the horizon and we could actually see it. The clouds had broken and all of the views were revealed by that lifting veil. The moon, the rise of the Olympus massif and icefalls spilling from its flanks. Everyone’s spirits were immediately buoyed. It appeared we were right at the ceiling of an inversion layer!

As we crossed the Blue Glacier by the halos of our headlamps the clouds drifted through. There were moments we were engulfed and there were moments we were in the clear with views of the stars and moon above us.

Snow Dome, a portion of trail that was quite difficult for me on my first attempt, didn’t even register as difficult on the second try. I know I just mentioned this in my Baker C2C trip report but it’s amazing how small, incremental improvements can evolve into big changes over time. The higher I climbed on Snow Dome the more I wondered why it scared me so much the first time, but I know and appreciate I also have so much more snow travel and glacier experience under my belt now.

The clouds continued to break as we climbed and we were treated to a spectacular blue hour and sunrise. I was unsure if we would get to see any mountain views during our climb and I was so grateful that the clouds fortuitously parted.

We could see the entire Fourth of July route before us. It appeared there was one opening crevasse on the route that we would have to contend with, but from the climber I had talked to the day prior we knew there was a solid snow bridge that crossed over it. We headed up.

By the time we reached the summit block we were right on the heels of the group ahead of us. We put on our layers and settled into wait while they readied for their climb. Not more than a minute after we arrived a cloud descended on us. We had hoped it would be just another ephemeral cloud passing through but unfortunately we were in that cloud for the remainder of our time at the summit block.

One of the other warnings groups had offered about the climb was that there had been some extreme bottlenecks forming at the summit block, with one group mentioning they spent five(!!) hours at the base of the summit block waiting for their turn to climb. As we waited we grew colder and colder. Even in all of our layers the cold was almost unbearable. It was also wet, coating everything in a thin layer of ice. We bounced around and shook to stay warm.

It took the group 1.5 hours for all five to summit and rappel back down and then it was our turn. At this point we all just wanted to get up and down as quickly as possible. The group ahead of us had actually taken our rope to the anchor at the top and belayed Dan up (he had planned to lead this climb but they said the rock was too icy and they’d prefer to secure the rope for him, and we didn’t have any objections to that!)

Dan climbing the summit block in a cloud

From the top Dan belayed me and then Sander up and verbally guided us up the route. It was both of our first experiences on alpine rock and wow, was it a first experience. Slick, wet rock, freezing cold, it was a rush to be sure. Thankfully we both made it up safely. We took a quick group selfie and then immediately began setting up to rappel back down. Ice had accumulated on the rope and as I rappelled down it broke off, flicking me with frigid little shards. We had practiced rappelling in North Bend a few days before our climb and it happened to be pouring rain during that practice so we joked that it had prepared us perfectly for this cold, wet rappel.

Back at our packs we got situated and re-roped back up for our descent. We were still in a whiteout so we relied on following the boot tracks back down. Despite the snow only being in the full force of the sun for about 30 minutes the snow had still softened up quite a bit and we were able to plunge step our way down. By the time we started the descent of Snow Dome the clouds began breaking again and for a few brief moments the sun even graced us with its warmth.

By the time we crossed the Blue Glacier and were back on top of the moraine we were in a cloud again, this one much thicker and wetter than before, it appeared the forecasted front had officially arrived.

We returned to camp at 1PM, exhausted but happy! We took a quick break before beginning to pack up. I had wanted to nap but was persuaded that it would be a bad idea—if we napped, we likely would not muster the energy to get back up and hike another seven miles downhill!

The hike back down was painful. After already descending 4,500’ from the summit we had another 4,000’ to descend to Lewis Meadows. I have never descended that much in one day before and doing it with a fully loaded pack after a 12 hour summit push was rough but somehow I did it. We stumbled into camp around 6PM. I had planned to crawl into my tent and immediately pass out but Dan and Sander had built a lovely fire (fires are allowed under 3,500’ in Olympic National Park) and I savored the warmth that I had dreamt about while shivering at the summit block just hours prior.

The next day was “only” a 12 mile hike out and I had assumed that since most of the ascent and descent were behind us the day would be easy, but 12 miles is 12 miles on the feet no matter which way you slice it and it was sneakily exhausting.

During the hike I tried to fully take in the verdant forest surrounding me, knowing that I likely wouldn’t visit this area of the park again, at least not for many years. I tried to appreciate the trees grown to epic proportions, draped in moss, and the lush ferns and foliage covering the ground in a carpet of green. I tried to appreciate the sounds of the rushing river and the songs of Pacific Wrens. Because even with leaden legs and crushed feet, the beauty of the Hoh Rainforest is undeniable. I relished in how grateful I was for a second chance to summit this mountain and the opportunity to do so with great friends. I’m not sure I will ever be back to the Blue Glacier or the slopes of Olympus, but the memories I’ve made in that little pocket of alpine will stay with me for the rest of my life.

*****

Return to Olympus

DATE HIKED:6/21-6/24/24

TOTAL MILEAGE: 43 MILES

TOTAL ELEVATION GAIN: 9,400’