Answering the Call: Returning to the Mountains

Mt. Baker 2025: Rediscovering the Journey, Not Just the Summit

Three years after my last summit, I was once again back in the mountains. If it isn’t hard enough enduring the mental and physical challenges of a high-altitude, technical mountain, I figured I’d throw in the twist of attempting to summit and then ski off the top of Mt. Baker in northern Washington. 

I know what you are all thinking: “What the hell is he doing, leaving Lauren and Aspen at home while climbing some crazy mountain?” I have to say it wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t without many discussions with Lauren, as any climb is risky and requires a lot of time and commitment to training and calculating everything from routes to weather patterns.  

As I’ve said in many of my posts, mountaineering makes me a better person mentally and physically and now a father as well. The disconnect from the world, the decompression, the unique mental and physical challenges, and the views—which no words or pictures can ever begin to explain—are enough to transform anyone, or in my case, keep me coming back and returning me a better person than before. 

With Aspen, I now have many new and different adventures that I wouldn’t trade for the world, but the mountains kept calling, and Mt. Baker in particular. First, Mt. Baker has been on the top of my list to conquer since 2021, when the mountain was unclimbable due to high heat and impassable crevasses. Second, Aspen is now identifying mountains, bikes and backpacks as “Dada’s,” so I can only hope to continue to influence her love for being active and in the outdoors.

Mt. Baker also required me to get my fitness and endurance back, which had been missing the last few years due to some struggles with long COVID and, of course, the cutest girl in the world coming into our lives in June 2023. Training began six months in advance, forcing me to stop making excuses, nut it up and get out there. It also required me to re-master my climbing and glacier skills, which I quickly discovered were lacking as I fumbled with critical skills like crevasse rescue and pulley systems. 

In addition to the physical training, the never-ending coordination and strategizing with my friend Paul around weather windows, snow conditions, routes and backcountry ski set-up, quickly got me zeroed in.

Before I knew it, it was May, and I was in Oregon with Paul skinning up Mt. Hood on a bluebird day, practicing my backcountry skiing skills in fresh snow (which dumped two feet on Mt. Baker) and getting some altitude in my legs and lungs in prep for Mt. Baker the following three days. I was feeling strong and ready!

The next day, Paul and I drove six hours to the Washington/Canadian border to meet Paul’s son Kyle and two of Paul’s climbing and skiing friends, Kenny and Angela, who would attempt Mt. Baker with us via the Colman Deming route on the Northwest side of the mountain. 

After loading up our 60+ pound packs, we were on the trail for 3+ hours making it to just under 6000 feet on the Colman Glacier where we’d call home for the next two nights. This was lower than I initially wanted to stay, but the decision was driven by the amount of new snow higher up on the mountain that was triggering avalanches and could easily wipe us and our tents right off the mountain. Plus, I was spent, due to the steep approach and the even steeper skinning up the mouth of the glacier on our skis.

The new snow, heavy packs and very steep terrain cooked all of us, so we were happy to dump the packs and start digging in to build our camp. As tired as I was, I couldn’t imagine trying to boot pack the whole way to camp, as I’d be up to my knees in snow with every step. Thank God for skis!  

Although cold and cloudy, Mt. Baker would offer glimpses of her summit 5000 feet above as the evening cleared, which made me quickly realize that the climb had only just begun, as the summit was a ways away. “Oh, shit,” I thought. It was tough enough just getting to camp, which was only 3000 vertical feet and 3.5 miles. Now we had to go even further while navigating some gnarly crevasses, some of which would be in the dark, with nothing but our headlamps. Fuck…I’m already in my head…not good. After three years, you quickly forget what a mental game mountaineering is.

After some food and a summit strategy session with Paul and the group, I started to feel better as I organized my summit pack and crawled into my sleeping bag to get some rest before our 3 am wake-up call. We decided on a later start to better navigate the glacier’s crevasses and let the snow soften up for skinning and skiing. 

Rolling out of camp, my legs felt heavy from the last two days, but I warmed up thanks to a slow and steep zigzag up the side of Mt. Baker. We were making good progress and welcomed the sun as it rose above the summit after a cold and frozen start on the north face of the mountain. However, the wind picked up, blowing the fresh snow across the face of the mountain as we gained altitude, making things icy and strenuous. 

Paul, Kyle and I decided to push on, making it to the saddle just below the summit headwall at 9200 feet in about five hours, leaving us 1500 feet or an hour and a half below summit. Feeling spent, we decided to call it. We had enough in the tank to make it to the summit, but the bigger question was if we would have enough to ski back to camp around crevasses while on some steep and tricky snow and ice. We determined probably not. Plus, anyone attempting to summit was ditching their skis, putting on their crampons and pulling out their ice axes, as the summit head wall was solid ice and not skiable, which confirmed we made the right decision. So, we set up our skis to descend to camp and get some turns in. 

What took us five hours to get to the saddle took 30 minutes to ski down. What a totally awesome and wild ski down, blazing beautiful turns on the fresh untouched snow, which was way better than boot packing down (boot packing would have taken another four to five hours given the conditions). Once back at camp, we recuperated the rest of the day watching climbers descend and even saw a person fall into a crevasse just above our camp. (Yes, they got rescued.) 

After getting a good night’s sleep, we got up early the next morning, packed up camp and skied down the rest of the glacier until the snow ended, then hiked the rest of the way down to the parking lot 3 miles below. 

Believe it or not, since I got back into mountaineering, this is the first time I haven’t summited. I’ve had climbs canceled at the last minute, but being on the mountain and having the summit in sight but not actually reaching it, is a first for me. 

I had it in mind that I’d be more disappointed if this ever happened, but in reality, I’m totally fine. We made the right decision for many reasons, but mostly for our safe return home. Kristian Whittaker of RMI Guides and of the famous Whittaker family of mountaineers said it best in his post When the Summit’s Out of Reach: Lessons for Mountaineers:

“If you spend enough time in the mountains, you’ll eventually face the climb where you don’t reach the top. It can happen to anyone (novice or seasoned alpinist) and it’s one of the most humbling realities of mountaineering. Success in the mountains isn’t defined solely by standing on a summit. It’s also about making smart decisions, staying safe, and learning along the way.” 

I also told Paul on the very first day when we were on Mt. Hood that if my trip ended right now, it would be complete due to the beauty and re-energized feeling that I got from being on Mt. Hood. Just being disconnected from the world for a few hours and on a beautiful snow-covered mountain was satisfying enough without even seeing Mt. Baker yet. Plus, it was great to re-connect with friends whom I hadn’t seen for three years, which honestly meant more to me than the climb. 

The other great thing is that I made some new friends who are like-minded with an adventurous spirit like Paul, JoAnn, Kyle and myself. Plus, Mt. Baker isn’t going anywhere. I already know there are some things that I would do differently, and I certainly learned a lot from a backcountry skiing perspective thanks to my buddy Paul, all of which will better prepare me to have a greater probability of summit success next time. For now, it was great just to be back in the mountains, trying new things and meeting new people.

Check out my GALLERY to live through the adventure!

Climb On!

Ben