Mt. Scott - Crater Lake (OR)

Desperate to squeeze in one last tour for the season, I looked over my potential options and finally decided on Mt. Scott, the tallest peak in Crater Lake National Park. Although the road was closed to cars about two miles from the base of the mountain, it was open to non-motorized transportation, so I figured it would be a super easy approach on my road bike. With the temperatures forecasted to be in the mid to high 70s, I got an early start in hopes of getting in some turns before the snow got to mushy. I felt pretty alone as I drove through the park during the early morning, with only a few other cars other than myself. Without traffic slowing me down and not seeing the posted speed limit, I was on the receiving end of a healthy speeding ticket, doing over 70 in a 45. The ranger who wrote me up was actually pretty nice and gave me some beta on snow conditions, before telling me to slow it down and sending me on my way (with said ticket). By the time I reached the Skell Head overlook it was ~8:30am. Stepping out of the car I was immediately accosted by hungry mosquitoes, doing their best to dissuade me from starting my planned adventure. Luckily I was already geared up and only needed to throw on my pack and start pedaling.

Mount Scott looms in the distance on the way in

Morning at Crater Lake 

Since I hadn’t done a practice run of biking with my splitboard tied to my pack, I wasn’t sure what to expect. With it secured as separate planks and A-Frame style, it worked really well – in fact, I barely noticed it other than when I was getting off and on the bike. On the other side of the gated closure, the road began to climb at a sustained rate, and even though it was paved it had quite a bit of debris to navigate around. A little over 2 miles and 500' of pedaling uphill, I reached the trailhead that led to the summit of Mount Scott. With the SW bowl now in clear view it became apparent that the ski conditions were not going to be optimal. Not only was the snow coverage thin it also looked fairly sun-cupped. My hope was that when I got to the drop-in point that it would look better than it did from below.

Looking sparse

The start of the summit trail

I pushed my bike up the dirt trail a short distance before leaning it against a tree and throwing a lock around it. It was here that I saw a couple of other bikes with trailers, which I assumed were fellow backcountry skiers or backpackers. A bit curious I began my hike up the Mt. Scott summit trail, which headed up the western flank. The trail itself alternated between bare dirt and snowdrifts which provided a bit of a challenge to navigate in my hiking shoes. Even with the warm temps the snow was fairly firm and a bit slick. As I wrapped around onto the southern aspect the tree cover and snow patches became sparser. Eventually the trail started to switchback up the south face, where at the second corner I found the drop zone for the SW bowl. Although there was enough coverage for a nice line, it was heavily sun-cupped, just as I had feared. I spent a few minutes debating whether or not to take a run; Eventually I deciding to head up to the summit and see if there was a better looking run down the northeast bowl.

In between snow drifts 

A typical view on the south side traverse

Heading up the switchbacks

The drop-in zone for the SW bowl -- looking a bit sun-cupped 

A couple more switchbacks later I reached the summit ridge, which provided some amazing views of Crater Lake and the surrounding area. I also heard a couple of voices in the distance and soon after that I came across two other guys looking for a good line to drop in on. After a quick meet and greet and chatting about the less than ideal conditions, they told me that the best snow they had found was directly off the north face. According to them, it started off at the base of a 30' cliff band on a wide/steep bowl, which eventually necked down to a long / low-angle chute that terminated in the trees about a half mile and over a thousand feet below. With some renewed hope that I might actually get in some good runs, I bid them a farewell and continued toward the summit.

The SW bowl, with Crater Lake in the background.

Continuing up the trail, with Mount Thielsen in the background

The summit within sight

The final straightaway up to the lookout hut went quickly and I was soon standing at the base of the structure. From the summit I could see the NE bowl, which I had hoped would hold some good snow. Unfortunately, it looked pretty bad and certainly not worth dropping into. Therefore, I continue hiking around to the north aspect, hoping to find the bowl/chute that I had been told about. The hike down and toward the northwest did not follow along any trail; instead I was traveling along a talus field which proved to be bit sketchy in a few spots.

The final pitch to the summit of Mount Scott

Before long I reached what I believed to be the line that they were talking about, where I could see a long narrow run of snow that looked pretty darn good. Now at the top of the cliff band I looked for the best place to descend onto the top of the bowl -- unfortunately, there didn’t appear to be any easy route down. I finally settled on a steep & narrow chute on the western end of the cliff, where I soon found myself in a rather precarious position, which in hindsight I should have never gotten myself into. Basically, the rock, including pieces that were as large as me, was extremely loose and only being held in place by each other. Had I dislodged one it could have been a very bad situation. Further complicating things was my backpack with my skis attached, which kept getting hung up on the surrounding rock. I finally decided that I needed to jettison the pack, if I had any hope of getting down safely. As I held onto a rather large and loose rock, I unbuckled my pack, worked it off my shoulders and lowered it down behind me. My plan was to drop it onto the snowfield, lining it up so that it stopped near the base of the cliff in a small grotto. After letting go of the pack it landed on the snow and hit its intended target. In disbelief, a huge sense of relief came over me, and I only hoped that my luck would continue for a wee bit longer. After what seemed like a lifetime I finally reached the snow line and began the boot-pack down to my abandoned pack, which was about 15’ below me.

Target aquired

Looking back up toward the cliff band, from the grotto.

Now reunited with my gear I took a few minutes to rest and let my adrenaline level off a bit. Sitting at the top of the bowl I could now see the entire line laid out in front of me, and it looked pretty sweet. The upper bowl was fairly steep, with an angle that was probably in the mid-40s. Balancing on a small bench that I had dug into the snow, I strapped into my bindings and prepared to drop in. From my perch I slid in on my heel side edge and traversed over to the center of the bowl, where I found a few more sets of tracks heading down the mountain. The snow was surprisingly firm for how warm it was and I really had to work to keep my edge hold for the first few turns. I quickly settled into a groove and started adding my tracks to the mix. As I reached the bottom of the bowl the slope angle began to lessen and snowfield narrowed down on either side of me. The lower I went the more sun-cupped it became and was almost unrideable by the time I got to the end. Even though the snow conditions certainly weren't optimal, the run was still super fun, and only made me want to do it again under better conditions.

Time for some fun!

Looking back up at the bowl, from partway down.

The snowfield was getting narrow and pretty pitted by this point in the run

Nearing the end of the run

Looking back up at my tracks

At the bottom of the chute I found many freshly broken trees, which gave a clear indication of what had created the path I had just come down -- it was really quite remarkable and a sobering reminder of what an avalanche is truly capable of. At this point I was not quite sure what would be the best way to get back to my bike, head back up the run I'd just come down or traverse through the woods to the west. Looking at the satellite imagery on my phone it looked like there might be another good line to the west, so I decided to head through the forest. The woods near the avalanche path also contained many downed trees and was pretty hard to walk through, but eventually it opened up and was fairly easy going. While stopping to rest a few times I was bombarded by mosquitoes, which forced me to keep moving. I soon reached the other bowl/avalanche path, which was also a bit sun-cupped but looked like it would be worth getting a run on.

An obvious avalanche path

Hiking through the woods ended up being pretty straight forward

Looking up at the second possible run of the day

On the ascent I alternated between climbing up through the forest and on the snowfield, which was dictated by the various hurdles along the way. As I got close to the top I tried to climb up the scree to the side of the run, which ended up being pretty terrible. After a bit I decided it was better to just kick steps into the snow and ascend the rest of the way up the run. Once I had reached the top I took a quick break and ate a snack before dropping in. The descent itself was much like the previous one to the east, not the best snow conditions but still worth the effort. It wasn’t quite as steep up top but the bottom was a little less sun-cupped. As with the other run, it would be pretty sweet if it would have been covered in a few inches of Spring corn or a foot of fresh powder.

A little sun-cupped but still looking rideable

A nice slope angle for some low-stress turns

From the top

Looking back up the at line from my second run

At the bottom I once again found myself having to decide between climbing back up or traversing out. Since I wasn’t planning on doing another run I decided the traverse made more sense. Just a short bushwhack later I reached the west side of the mountain where I had started the hike. I had originally intended to grab my bike and start heading down the road to my car, but for whatever reason the sun-cupped SW bowl was calling to me. I think this was mostly due to it being the last run of the season and wanting to make the most of the trip, especially after earning that speeding ticket on the way in…

I was pretty beat down at this point and the hike back up the trail was pretty tiring. When I finally reached the drop-in point I was exhausted, so I sat on a rock for about 10 minutes and took in the view of the lake and my amazing surroundings. The snow conditions ended up being much worse than on the north aspect, and maintaining edge control over the pitted surface was almost impossible, especially with my leg muscles being completely drained.

The view from the top of the SW bowl

Looking back up from halfway down the SW bowl

By the time I got to the bottom I was ready to call it a day, so I packed up my gear and headed back toward my bike. Luckily the road was almost all downhill and I only had to throw in a few pedal strokes to keep my momentum. When I got back to the parking lot it was completely full, with hikers and sightseers frantically swatting away the mosquitoes that filled the sky. I didn’t even bother to change into different clothes, and after loading up my pack and bike I zoomed out of the parking lot and headed back to Eugene, while making sure to obey the posted speed limits…

Callin' it a day

Conclusion:
Mount Scott certainly has a lot of potential for backcountry skiing, with great terrain on all of its aspects. I’m not sure I’d come back to it this late in the season, with minimal snow coverage and sun-cups, but with fresh powder or Spring corn it would be pretty amazing. The main obstacle for hitting it during prime conditions is access, since east Rim Drive is closed and unplowed until late Spring / Early Summer, requiring a ~12 mile one-way approach. I know that there is also a way to approach it from the east side (outside of the park), but the forest roads to get there are also unmaintained, so they’d need to be snow free. Even with the sub-par conditions, it’s hard to have a bad time at Crater Lake, it really is a special place – just make sure you watch your speed while driving through it!

The tracks from my tour:

Google Earth

Diamond Peak (OR) - Southeast Bowl

Now into summer, and with the snow rapidly melting, I wanted to get in one final tour of the season. My first thought was an overnighter into Jefferson Park, but unfortunately I wasn't able to rally the troops for that one. The next area that came to mind was the southeast bowl on Diamond Peak, which I had heard holds its snow later into the season than most. For this one I was able to enlist Ethan and Waldy, who were also eager to get in some late season turns. A couple more Oakridge locals and friends of Waldy, Brian and Hilary, would also be joining us.

With warm temps forecasted, we planned to get an early start. Ethan and I left Eugene around 5:30am, meeting up with the others in Oakridge before driving to the trailhead near Summit Lake. After some delay, we finally reached Summit Lake at around 8:30am, and soon after gearing up we were on the PCT and headed toward Diamond Peak. Waldy had warned me that the mosquitoes would be really bad and he certainly wasn't exaggerating. I don't recall the last time I used DEET, but it didn't take long before I was spraying it liberally from head to toe. As we hiked down the trail it became very obvious why there were so many mosquitoes, about every 1/8th of a mile we passed a small lake or pond. For the first mile or so we saw very little snow but eventually it became pretty patchy and hid the trail in spots. Once we reached the intersection with the trail leading to Diamond Rock Pile, we stopped for a quick break and to grab some water from a nearby spring.

Starting to find some snow along the trail

One of our first glimpses of Diamond Peak through the trees

Shortly after leaving the junction, the PCT became completely obscured by snow, although with Diamond Peak often in view and Brian's knowledge of the area we were able to continue on without its guidance. Before long we reached the base of the mountain where we began to climb up a steep side hill alternating between sharp lava rock and patches of snow. We had to be mindful of our foot placement at the boundary between the snow and rock, for dropping your foot into a hidden void beneath the snow could certainly cause a leg or knee injury.

Getting closer!

Waldy points out some landmarks to the south

Breaking through the tree line

As we broke through the trees into the bottom of the SE bowl, any anxiety over snow coverage was completely eliminated. However, it was now noon and the snow was heating up pretty good, bringing with it other concerns of it being too slushy. Now that we were on the snowfield, we threw on our skins and started traversing uphill and toward the center of the bowl. This process only heightened my concerns over the loose snow, as it was a struggle to retain grip while side-hilling, and I slid out on more than one occasion – although putting on my ski crampons did help with this. Once we reached the center of the bowl we switched over to bootpacking and climbed straight up the face toward the summit of Diamond Peak. Climbing the remaining 700 vertical feet took us around 40 minutes and finally reaching the summit brought on a huge sense of relief.

Starting the traverse toward center bowl

This side-hill was the toughest part of the approach, at least for me.

Boot packing toward the summit

The final push to the summit

The winds at the top were essentially nonexistent, which I’ve found to be quite rare during my limited time touring the Cascade volcanoes. It was quite pleasant and we spent a bit of time hanging out on the bare peak and soaking up the sun. After a bit I became restless and started getting geared up before the others, mainly because I wanted to head down and get setup for some photos in the middle of the bowl. Just below the summit was a nice flat spot to strap into my board and prepare to drop-in. As I rolled over the edge the slope felt steeper than I had expected. Luckily the snow felt perfect and I was able to hold my toe edge while traversing north across the bowl to take photos from that side. Before long, Waldy and Hilary came into view and shortly after that dropped in for their first turns of the day.

Looking out toward the Thee Sisters from the summit of Diamond Peak

Relaxin' at the summit

Waldy drops in for his first turns

Partway down the upper bowl

Dog in tow

Waldy, about halfway down. 

Hilary starting it off

Nice tracks!

After they had reached the bottom of the boot pack, I put away my camera and started my descent. Again, the slope felt steep and it took me a half dozen or so edge transitions before I started to get comfortable. Of course, once I was starting to get into a rhythm I was already looking for another place to setup to take photos of both Ethan and Brian, who were still up top. Before long, both of them dropped in, entering through a narrow path between rock features and painting their lines down the south side of the center bowl. The coolest feature on this line was the banking turn off the giant fin rock, which both Ethan and Brian railed with style! Since we were all planning to do another lap we didn’t go any lower than the boot pack, which we’d use to ascend once again.

Ethan with a sweet line, banking off the pinnacle.

Setting up for the next pitch

The crew waiting at the start of the boot pack

The author enjoying some corn turns
(photo by Waldy Torkelson)

Another rare shot of the author
(photo by Waldy Torkelson)

Even with an established line of steps kicked into the face of the slope, the second trip up felt pretty taxing and I found myself taking many short breaks to catch my breath. For my second line down I wasn’t planning to take any photos from the midway point. This allowed me to concentrate on my turns, which ended being a lot smoother and quite a bit more enjoyable. Since Ethan, Waldy and I weren’t planning to do another lap, I continued past the boot pack for a short distance, which provided some nice low angle turns to finish things up. After a couple of minutes I could see a couple small specks moving down the face of the bowl, which could only be my other companions. I fired off a couple more shots as they made their way down, capturing some nice sun stars in the process.

Ethan halfway down his second descent

Comin' in hot!

Waldy on his second lap

Since Hilary and Brian had planned to get in at least one more lap, we decided that it wasn't necessary to wait for them and instead started our journey back to the parking lot. Although we could have descended a bit further, we used our current elevation to traverse across the bowl without skinning. Once on the other side, I tied my planks to my pack and began the hike, while the other two tried to squeak out as much skiing as possible. Within a few hundred yards the snow became too intermittent for them to continue on skis, and they had to succumb to booting out as well. Instead of following our old tracks or the PCT, Waldy led us on a more direct approach using his wicked GPS skills. Within a few miles we reached the trail intersection to Diamond Rock Pile, at which point we began following the PCT the rest of the way out. The further we went down the trail the worse the mosquitoes got and even the DEET was struggling to keep them at bay. Back at the car, we wasted little time changing clothes and loading up our gear, all while being ambushed by hordes of blood suckers. It wasn’t until we were back in the confines of the truck that we could relax and celebrate our day’s adventure over a beer.

Traversing back out across the SE bowl

One final look back at the amazing terrain found on the southeast face of Diamond Peak

Conclusion:
Diamond Peak’s southeast aspect is a fantastic late season touring destination, with many line options available. I’d say it’s just as good if not better than the southwest bowl, but of course opinions may vary. We happened to choose the bowl that drops down just to the northeast of the summit, which was an awesome line, especially if summiting is part of your goal. That said, the many lines that drop between the rock bands look awesome too. I’ll certainly be coming back here year after year, but next time I’d like to do it as an overnighter and get in at least two days of riding, especially given the fairly long approach and the swarms of mosquitoes you have to fight through to get there. On a final note, the road into Summit Lake is pretty nasty and requires a high clearance vehicle, which should probably have 4WD as well.

Our tracks:
Red = Approach
Dark Blue = First descent
Light Blue = Second descent
Yellow = hike out