Early mornings are not always necessary in the backcountry and sometimes prove difficult to pull off. We still left early, and although it was no alpine start, the sunrise we digested that morning was the breakfast entree that served all three of us and then some. The descent on to the South Tahoma glacier was a bit dicey, balancing precariously on the toes of our ski boots as we delicately stepped from hold to hold, occasionally knocking rocks loose sending them tumbling into the large moats directly below. After traversing onto the glacier, we quickly made our way across the South Tahoma while it was still in the shade and arrived on the Tahoma cleaver to cast first glimpse of our next goal – high camp at St. Andrew’s Rock.

The Tahoma glacier was massive – though it wasn’t the biggest glacier on the mountain, it was one of the more technical glaciers to navigate. Huge gaping crevasses were very apparent low on the glacier, and higher up the glacier would throw numerous ice falls at us, with even larger crevasses spaced precariously close together. As we looked out and studied our route, we made the decision to drop onto the glacier and work our way across it to a large natural ramp in the glacial ice.  Unbeknown to us, the top of the this ramp would only mark the first third of our ascent up, and proved to be the easiest section to move through. Arriving at the top of the ramp, we were given privy to the navigational hazards that lay ahead.

Shady breaks. Matt Sheets takes a quick breather before navigating down the rest of the icefall.

We pressed on, thankfully finding a safe area in the shade to melt water. The glacier had been in full sun for a couple of hours, and the heat was intense. We filled up on water and rested a bit, jesting with one another to psychologically lighten our loads. Ready to continue up to our high camp, we were shortly stopped by an incredibly large crevasse, seemingly spanning the length of the glacier. The other side was above us by five or six feet, and any snow bridge that possibly stretched the distance was sketchy at best. We discussed all of our possible options, and it was decided that one of us would attempt to cross an area where the span seemed smallest and snow bridge seemed thickest.

“Stügie, you’re on belay. Make sure you set a bomber picket”, Matt warned.

“Dude, watch me.  I’ll need some slack for the jump, but if I go down…”

“I got you bro”, Matt reassured me.

Brad chimed in, “Stügie, you sure you want to do this?”

“No. Let’s try running this thing out.  We’re pretty remote right now.”

“Agreed.” All of us seemed to be on the same page. We disassembled our belay station and prepared to move down the glacier to see if the crevasse did run out. If so, we could possibly end run it, however there were a lot of hazardous ice falls and other crevasses sitting near both ends, so it wasn’t without danger. Ultimately, all three of us felt that because of our location on the mountain, less risk was worth the extra distance and time. We were close to our high camp as well – we didn’t want to mess this up. Forty-five minutes later, after a successful end run and negotiating several large crevasses on small bridges, we made our way back up our original line.

“What do you guys think of this campsite?” asked Matt.

“Totally.”

“Works for me.”

We were parked near 11,000′, separating ourselves from the avy debris zone with a crevasse.  Setting up camp and observing the route would be our next tasks. Matt, our ice climbing expert, delivered the bomb.

“It doesn’t go through.”

The S.A.H.C. didn’t go through. The top ice section was melted out to the point that we did not feel comfortable navigating without proper protection. A fall at that point in the climb… well, let’s just say it was preferably a “no fall zone”. Since we were planning on a carryover anyway, our attention was turned to other possible ascent routes, and all of us felt very comfortable with our immediate change in plans to then climb the Tahoma glacier – upon making it to the summit, we would then attempt to ski the Fuhrer Finger and follow the Nisqually glacier back to the car. After setting up our camp, Brad and Matt made a quick jaunt for a better view of the SAHC and the Puyallup glacier while I slept. We ate and crashed out sleeping under the starriest sky I’ve ever seen.