Mount Jefferson (OR) - West Rib

The west aspect of Mount Jefferson, with the West Rib splitting the face.
(Photo by Jason Loomis at http://loomisadventures.com/)

Mount Jefferson is probably my favorite Oregon Cascade peak, with rugged beauty and big skiable lines. The reason that it doesn’t get as much traffic as the other major volcanoes is probably due to its challenging approaches, at least for the more desirable lines like the SW Ridge and West Rib. Of these two, I had successfully ticked off the SW Ridge but was shut down by the Rib in 2018, due to some gear limitations (trip report here). Feeling the need for redemption and having a much better understanding of the challenges associated with the route, it was time to give it another go.

For this attempt I was able to recruit Markus, one of my go-to skiing buddies. With a good snowpack and weather window for the upcoming Saturday, we knew we’d have a good chance of completing the mission. Since the temps were forecasted (at ~9,200’) to be 35°F the night before and reach the mid-50s the day of, we knew we’d need to get an alpine start to mitigate our exposure to rock/ice fall and wet slides. The plan was to camp at the trailhead the night before, so we could start the tour around 3am.

After meeting up in Springfield on Friday evening, we started the drive toward the Pamelia Lake trailhead, which was about a 2hr drive. When we pulled into the parking area we found a few other cars but it wasn’t crowded. Before heading off to bed, we readied our gear so we could wake up and head out quickly. That night I dosed in and out of sleep and just when I had started my deep sleep the alarm went off. It was 2:30am.

We threw down a quick bite and made some final gear preparations before starting down the trail at ~3:15am. Almost immediately we were confronted by trees lying across the trail -- I was really hoping this wasn’t a sign of what was to come. Over the next 3.5 miles we had to navigate under, over, and around a couple of dozen downed trees. This was made more difficult with the skis on our packs and the limited visibility based on the lack of sunlight. Despite these obstacles, we still made decent time and reached the intersection of the PCT and Milk Creek after an hour and a half from starting the tour.

The last time on this approach the bottom part of Milk Creek was free of snow and patchy on the upper half. This prevented us from using it as an avenue to reach the base of the mountain, due to unstable snow bridges over the creek. This time around, and to our delight, it looked like we’d have adequate snow coverage the entire way, allowing us to travel through the canyon safely. The main benefit of this was that we wouldn’t need to bushwhack up the ridge between Milk Creek and the side creek, which was truly a sufferfest on the previous tour.

Entering Milk Creek

Milk Creek, leading to up to Mount Jefferson.

Shortly after leaving the PCT we were able to pull our skis from our packs and skin up. Within a ¼ mile we reached the side creek, where I left a small rope and some other climbing gear. I had brought it to help with getting back down into Milk Creek, assuming we had followed the other drainage, which ended up being the sketchiest part the last time. The rest of the way up Milk Creek went really well and we were able to skin its entirety, except for a small section that didn’t have enough coverage. The headwind through the canyon was pretty strong/sustained and the floor of the canyon was littered with rock debris. Toward the mouth of the canyon a small waterfall dropped down from the cliff face on our left and the summit of Mount Jefferson presented itself -- it was truly a sight to behold!

Partway up Milk Creek

Plenty of rockfall along the way

Exiting Milk Creek canyon. Note the cool waterfall coming down of the left wall.

Eventually, our journey up Milk Creek terminated were it dropped down a small cliff in front of us. As we skinned up and over the small ridge to the north we found fairly wet snow, which we hoped would firm up higher on the mountain. On the other side of the ridge, we skinned alongside the adjacent drainage to the base of the Rib. Once we’d reached the ramp that led up to the rib we switched over to crampons, strapped our skis to our packs, and started booting up the steep slope.

Climbing out of Milk Creek

Starting up the adjacent drainage, toward the base of the Rib.

The author nears the base of the Rib
(photo by Markus Allgaier)

The further we made our way up the West Rib the firmer the snow surface became and I was glad we had decided to put on our crampons early. To get the most spike purchase and mellow out the slope a bit, we zigzagged our way up. Passing over the 8k elevation line the Rib started to steepen even more and the sidewalls sloped up a bit, forming a gully. The left side was also lined with a series of rock formations that looked a bit like a dragon’s back.

The start of the Rib

Getting steeper

Twilight

Lots of cool rime formations along the way

At the upper end of the gullied portion of the Rib, the slope angle steepened to around 50°. That combined with the near solid ice surface, made for some heady and tiring front-pointing on all fours. This process went on for about 600’ until we reached a relatively flat spot surrounded by rime covered rock formations, at 9,600’. From this point to the summit pinnacle the slope mellowed out quite a bit and the route appeared to be much less difficult and sketchy; however, my calves were on fire from all the front-pointing and I was more interested in resting then continuing on. Furthermore, we weren’t planning to summit anyways and the skiing between the pinnacle and our current position didn’t look all that inviting - firm/wind-textured snow.

Front pointing on the upper section of the Rib

No fall zone

Since we’d need to wait for the snow to soften up, I figured I might as well get comfortable and made a chair with my backpack and skis. Even though the sun was now splashing down on us, there was a constant light wind that made it a bit cold. Even so, It was hard to complain too much since the views were nothing short of amazing! From time to time one of us would get up from our seat and check to see if the slope had softened up enough. For whatever reason conditions were being a bit stubborn and I could only assume it was due to the wind.

A  nice place to stop at ~9,600 (600' below the summit pinnacle).

The author waits for the snow to soften
(photo by Markus Allgaier)

After almost 3 hours of waiting, and wishing we’d slept in later, we got impatient and decided it was go time. We spent a little extra time transitioning over and then prepared to drop in. The top inch or so of the snow was nice and soft, but it was still pretty firm underneath. Markus went first and dropped in delicately, testing the edging with some side slipping and a couple of tight turns. He communicated that it was certainly skiable but a bit icy and to use cation -- We were basically in a “no fall zone”, with 3,000’ steep runout below us.

Markus drops in for the first turns of the day

Markus postioned above the first steep pitch.

As I dropped in I was certainly tentative and probably the most nervous I’ve been in some time. It’s not that the terrain was overly difficult, it was just steep (~50°) with pretty serious consequences for slipping out and failing to self-arrest. I slowly made my way down to Markus’ position mostly side slipping with a few turns thrown in to test the snow. My hesitation was certainly affecting my skiing and I was hoping I’d find my groove once I warmed up a bit.

Once below the first pinch the run opened up a bit and allowed us to make some easier turns, although we did have to contend with some old icefall debris that had collected on the slope. Luckily, it was a bit softer lower down and made it less challenging then it would have been otherwise.

Feeling a bit more relaxed below the first steep pitch

Dropping into the next section

Before long we reached the second steep pinch, which once again Markus dropped down through first. With the softer snow and feeling a little better about our turns, we made it through without much issue and dropped into the next bit, which was probably the most opened up section on the rib.

Above the second steep pinch

Safely below the second pinch
(photo by Markus Allgaier)

Although The debris was fairly prevalent down the center of the slope, it was soft enough that it wasn’t too bad to ski through. Markus chose to ski along the left wall, where the surface was nice and smooth but it was also a bit firmer, since it hadn’t received as much solar radiation. I mainly stuck to the center and right flank, near the rocks that formed the dragon’s back.

The author enters the middle (and widest) section of the West Rib
(photo by Markus Allgaier)

Markus heading down to the next staging area

Pointing it down one of the mellower pitches 

Riding the smoother, but firmer, left flank.

Hugging the dragon backs
(photo by Markus Allgaier)

The author
(photo by Markus Allgaier)

The further we descended the softer the snow was, and it even became a bit grabby. This required us to be a bit more aggressive with our turns, but at least we didn’t have to worry as much about self-arresting if we did take a spill. I actually enjoyed this section quite a bit and was feeling much more relaxed.

Starting to soften a bit

Markus enters the lower half of the Rib

Still plenty of slope left

Markus, above the 3rd (and final) pinch on the West Rib.

Before exiting the rib we still had one last steep pinch, which I dropped through first. With the soft snow, I was able to link a nice series of turns before pulling over and waiting for Markus, who dropped down soon after.

Markus, exiting the main Rib.

We were now traversing above the drainage to the north of Milk Creek, essentially following our uptrack. It was actually a pretty fun section to ski, riding high on the left wall and slashing turns along the way. We did kick off a few rollerballs and based on the giant terrain trap we were riding along, we didn’t dilly-dally too much and kept our eyes open for any significant warning signs. My legs were also pretty smoked by this point, so I didn’t expend too much energy playing around.

The author finds some more good turns on side of the gully leading back down to Milk Creek
(photo by Markus Allgaier)

Back in the gully

Still finding some fun snow along the way

Side-hillin'
(photo by Markus Allgaier)

Markus

We were soon positioned on the ridge above Milk Creek, where we had ascended out of it on the way up. I was pretty sure that the south-facing slope we were about to descend was going to be really soft and potentially produce a wet slide. Before fully committing to the slope, I cut across the top of it to see if I could get a reaction. Sure enough, a shallow wet slide broke from the entire length of my ski track and headed down the face. It started off pretty fast but eventually moved along at a fairly slow pace. The slide path actually made for some pretty nice skiing, but I had to move in fits and starts as I followed the slow-moving slide in front of me.

Markus, dropping back down into Milk Creek.

Now back in the Milk Creek drainage, we ‘milked’ as many turns as we could get out of it before we had to start hiking. We would have been able to ski almost the whole way back to the PCT if it hadn’t been for all the rock debris - basically, if we didn’t care about your ski bases, it would have been possible, excluding one small section. Markus took it a bit farther than me, but better judgment eventually took over and we soon found ourselves with our skis on our pack for the remainder of the tour back to the parking lot.

Entering Milk Creek

Finding a few last turns on the left wall of Milk Creek

looking back up at Mount Jefferson

A few final turns

Markus navigates the debris field

The start of the hike back to the parking lot

Before leaving Milk Creek we made one last stop to grab the rope and climbing gear I’d left on the way up. Unfortunately, someone else had taken it, which was a bit of a surprise to me since I had laid it out on a rock so it was obvious that it was left there intentionally. I also had figured that anyone heading up Milk Creek probably wouldn’t be the thieving type. I was actually pretty pissed off that someone would take it, especially since I’d consider it safety gear. Just as the PCT crossing came into view, I saw two people leaving the drainage and assumed it could have been them that had grabbed my gear. I sped up my pace and yelled out to get their attention. They turned around and acknowledged my calls, but then turned away and started down the trail. I let Markus know that I was going to give chase and started after them. To make a long story short, I eventually caught up to one of them at Pamelia Lake. They said that they assumed someone had lost it and were going to post it to the local climbers' forum. Based on some miscommunication between the two of them (they had gotten separated) I didn’t get my gear back until an hour or so later at the parking lot -- in the end, it wasn’t a big deal (for our situation), but I’m still a little annoyed that they had grabbed it.

Back at the car, Markus and I sat around for a bit and enjoyed some snacks and reflected on the day’s adventure, before heading our separate ways.

Conclusion:
The West Rib of Mount Jefferson certainly did not disappoint, and pretty much lived up to what I was expecting. The approach was much easier this time around since Milk Creek had enough snow to use as an avenue to the base of the mountain. I also feel we hit just about right in regards to the point in the season -- late enough where it had gone through enough of a corn cycle but still early enough that it wasn’t completely tattered with ice/rockfall and runnels. It was probably the most committing ski line I’ve done to date, with its sustained steepness and no-fall zone at the top of the run. I do have some minor regrets about not going all the way to the summit pinnacle, which would have added another 600 vertical feet, but once again I was pretty happy to hang out on the relatively flat spot and the conditions for skiing didn’t look that great -- oh well, you gotta leave something to come back for. In the end, it certainly pushed my limits as a skier, which was mainly a mental battle, which I’ll use as experience for the next big line.

Our Tracks: