Snowfield Slush

I looked at the printout of the weather forecast on the Gorge Lake campground info board, then at my watch. The foreseeable future, starting that night, was looking very, very wet. It was 2:00 PM.  It looked like my plans for a nice, relaxing rest day after running 12,000 feet up Black and Silver Star mountains the day before would have to wait until tomorrow. I drove to the pyramid lake trailhead, geared up, and took off on tired legs. My sights were set on Snowfield peak, 7,000 feet of steep climbing and 2 long glacier traverses above.

I left the trailhead at 2:30 and jogged the gentle climb up to pyramid lake. Right off the bat, I made a route-finding error, scrambling up and around the left side of the lake rather than the right. Yet again, my failure to pay attention the day we learned left and right in kindergarten comes back to haunt me. Stay in school, kids. I quickly realized my error and returned to the correct route. The climb went from easy hiking to vertical, bushy awesomeness very quickly, and continued to climb relentlessly until it popped suddenly out of the thick forest into the alpine (5500'). The views of pyramid peak looming above, colonial peak across the basin, and the abundant waterfalls fed by rapid snowmelt were phenomenal.

I traversed across some sketchy snowfields littered with debris from recent rockfall and wet slides, then made my way around the meltwater lake (6000'). This was one part of the route that took much longer than it needed too, as navigating the pebble-strewn slabs along the lake's east bank took much longer than walking across the frozen surface would have. I did try that at first, but took a waist-deep swim and opted for the slower, drier route. Fortunately, the lake was full of spectacular chunks of blue glacial ice to admire as I made my way along it. On the far side, the colonial glacier made for quick and enjoyable climbing with no crevasses to the colonial-neve col (6900'). Here, I was treated to a jaw-dropping view of the immense Neve Glacier, a huge expand of snow and ice and Snowfield peak's namesake. 

 I also got a wonderful view of the oncoming weather, as the peaks to the north were quickly disappearing behind a wall of rain. A quick glissade dropped me down onto the glacier, and I began the long, slushy slog to the base of the summit pyramid. I encountered a few small crevasses on the Neve, but all were easily bypassed and I was soon looking up the final, steep, 800' scramble to the summit just as rain began to fall. I made quick work of the 3rd class climb, eager to get up and off before the storm intensified. I spent just a few moments on the summit to admire the views, especially those of the El Dorado ice field and surrounding peaks to the south.

I quickly dropped back down the loose gullies back to the snow as it started to rain progressively harder. As soon as I hit the steep snow, I dropped onto my butt for an exciting and fast glissade down to the low-angle glacier. The slush was pretty miserable for going up, but going down was a real treat. I made great time sprinting back down the glacier, taking a more direct route by hurdling the occasional small crevasse. Looking straight down 50' into a dark, icy abyss in between steps is quite the thrill. I hiked back up to the col and repeated the process down the colonial glacier, with another fast glissade followed by more great slush running. After making my way back around the lake and across the traverse below pyramid peak, I reached my absolute favorite part of any peak-bagging run (NOT)- the knee-pounding, relentless decent back to the flatlands. Whoever decided that summit FKT's should be car-to-car, rather than just car-to-summit, either doesn't do them, has knees and quads of steel, or only ever does ski descents. This one proved to be surprisingly fun, despite (or maybe because of?) the muddiness and soaking wet brush. As the grade gradually lessened I pushed harder and harder, eventually hitting the proper, maintained trail below pyramid lake at an all-out sprint. Before I knew it, i could hear cars not far below me on the highway, and then it was over. I snapped the victory selfie at the trail sign and ran to my car to escape the downpour.