October 8th, 2023 (Reposted 6/17/2025)
I have been steadily losing weight through power walking for several months and have decided to get back into hiking. I figured since I had completed a half marathon that setting a challenge with elevation would be good. For years I have wanted to climb Mount Saint Helens, in the south of Washington State. The fact that it is not just a mountain, but an active volcano made it even more interesting to me. As I always do before starting a new hobby or project, I did my research on mountaineering in general and about climbing Mount Saint Helens in particular. I am by no means a mountain climber. I’ve only climbed one mountain with my dad as a teenager (Mount Index). I am also not physically fit though I have lost a lot of weight. But God has blessed me with an ability to endure things mental and physical and keep moving forward. With this in mind, I learned that it takes an average mountain climber around 6-8 hours to summit and return to the parking area. I therefore figured I could double the time and plan on that being an accurate reflection of my effort. I prepped my gear and had all the 10 essentials and plenty of batteries and survival gear for every scenario. I then went online and managed to get a permit for the end of September (The mountain has a daily quota to limit damage to the ecosystem).
On September 29th, 2023, I attempted to summit the mountain. The weather window looked iffy in the morning when I checked but I figured I would try. I arrived at the parking lot of the Monitor Ridge route at 6AM and began to hike through the tree line. I was the only one on the trail. I made it through the beautiful forest and up to the Mount Saint Helens permit zone. I took a brief break and eyed the weather, which was looking very cloudy. As I sat there drinking my water, the conditions were not improving. A duo that had just made it off the mountain made a comment about how glad they were to be off it when they were. I could see the fog and rain starting to descend on the mountain and from time to time I could see other climbers pop in and out of the fog and rain. All were heading down the mountain. It was clear to me that I wouldn’t summit today. I decided to climb just a little bit of the boulder field to get the lay of the land. It was so beautiful on the mountain and when you encounter the boulder field there are all these unusual looking stunted trees, which reminded me of the trees in a doctor sues book. The alpine plants and flowers looked so beautiful. I always feel close to God when I’m in the outdoors. Theres something about being able to see the beauty of the world he created. The weather had halted my progress this time, but I would be back.
On October 6th, the following Friday, I got up early and made the trailhead by 6AM. I had decided to walk through the forest in the dark since I was familiar with that stretch. Doing so would provide more time in the daylight to descend. Partway through the walk, I felt fear as I had thoughts of being stalked by cougars and the sound of the wind moving through the tree’s made eerie noises. This brought to mind all the horror movies I have seen as a kid. I pushed through the psychological challenges of that only to have my flashlight go out on the trail. I took a deep breath and rummaged through my pack for my spare batteries and continued on. A few miles later I had reached the top of the tree line and the beginning of the boulder field. As I climbed up the 2,500 vertical feet of the boulder field, I looked up at the night sky, which was now turning to dawn. I could see the stars over the top of Mount Hood, which now was visible in the predawn light. It looked so beautiful. The boulder field was a steep scramble that required careful footing and hand holds. It is often considered the most arduous part of the climb. This section is where most injuries occur, and I was making sure to test every foot and handhold. It made for slow going but slow and steady wins the race. I was very grateful I had brought gloves as the lava rocks were shredding them. I could only imagine what it would be like with just bare hands. As the sun rose in the sky, I could see an old seismic monitor used to track volcanic activity. I thought it was the one that signaled the end of the boulder field. I was sadly mistaken. I was only halfway through. Another few hours and I made it through the boulder field to a rocky but less steep section. I turned around and admired the view. Thanking God for the gift of making it this far and for the beautiful scenery that lay before me. I then turned around and sized up the challenge that lay ahead. I could see the summit crater from afar. Another hiker passing me up said, “Don’t worry, that’s not a false summit.” I was grateful to hear that.
About a half mile later I entered the final stretch of the route to the summit, the 1,000 vertical feet ash field. This part of the climb was very steep, consisting of loose ash and pumice stones, which often cause pain and injury when they fill up your shoes. Mindful of this, I had brought gaiters with me to cover my shoes so no stones would fall inside while climbing up or coming down. I trudged along, the constant sound of my trekking pole stabbing into the ash and then the crunch of my footstep on the ash and pumice. It was slow going and often I would take two steps forward only to slide one step back. Despite the increase in difficulty and feeling exhausted, each step brought more motivation as I neared the summit. As I approached the final steps of the summit, I was cheered on by other climbers. It took me aback how little room there is when you get to the crater rim. there was only about 6 feet before you would fall in if you weren’t careful.
The view before me was awe inspiring. Below was the dome of the active volcano with wisps of volcanic gas and fissures in the snow. Looking above that to the north and straight ahead, I could see the beautiful, blue waters of Spirit Lake. To the east I could see Mount Adams and Mount Rainer, to the south was Mount Hood. I stood there for some time admiring the view and praising God. Then I took the opportunity for some picture taking and to circumnavigate the crater, which was very tricky (At some points only a foot or two wide). I also very carefully wrote in the snow near the cornice, “I love Sarah” and took a picture and sent it to my wife so she would know I had made it safely. I was amazed to have cell service up there.
Retracing my steps, I made it back down the ash field, which felt like I was skiing down a snow slope. I made slow progress going down the boulder fields as I was well aware that the vast majority of climbing accidents happen on the way down not up. Testing every hand and foot hold, I made it down the field slowly. At one point the rock my foot was on gave way, I yelled below, “Rocks” to warn anyone below about the impending danger. I had pulled my arm hard when the rock gave way and had fallen a foot or two but aside from the injured arm, which was still functional, I was fine. The last leg of the boulder field was coming to an end as the sun was setting and all I could think was, “I want off this field before sunset.” Fortunately, I made it off just as the sun was setting.
I made it safely through the forest and back to the car as the last vestiges of any daylight turned into the pitch blackness of night. I had climbed 4,500 feet of elevation gain and then loss in 10 miles, tackled 35-degree sloped ash fields and challenging and precarious bolder fields, had seen the views of the surrounding of the countryside from 8,363 feet and climbed an active volcano. I was thoroughly exhausted. I can honestly say it was the most tired I’d been since the final two days of basic training and was tied for the most physically exhausted I have ever been. As I drove home, I couldn’t help but sing the Latin hymn Non-Nobis Domine, which is a song acknowledging that it is not to my glory but given to God.
As I think about it now, how appropriate is a mountain as a metaphor for life’s challenges. So much in life can seem fearful like the path through the forest in the dark, or uncertain like the boulder field, or physically and mentally exhausting like the climb up the ash and pumice field to the summit. And yet, there is never a moment where we are not guided by the creator’s hand. He safely see’s us through life’s trials. And if faithful, one day we too will have a beautiful view from the heights of heaven and hear those words, “Well done my good and faithful servant.”