Mt Washington, 7,794 feet, North Ridge
We skied from the highest snow, where it touches the ridge on the left. From there, I basically climbed the ridge on the horizon.
We bagged plans for Rainier due to questionable weather, but at the last minute Amar had proposed a trip to central Oregon, where we would find blue skies. Dave revealed to me a two day plan. The first day involved a late start from Seattle, then Three Fingered Jack and/or Mt Washington. Day two could be a mountain of choice for Dave and me. That meant one of the Three Sisters to me.
It was a gray, drizzly morning in Seattle. There were only high clouds by the time we exited I-5 in Salem, and beautiful, sunny skies at Santiam Pass. I had been perusing Thomas' Oregon High and Amar's definitive collection of maps, and the more I read the more I doubted we could ski both Mt Washington and Three Fingered Jack in a day with a late start. Mt Washington looked like more skiing for less work to me, and the North Ridge also looked interesting. How could I resist when Thomas says, "Mt Washington is the only place in Oregon where the alpine rock climber can find happiness." (Is that a paraphrase? I lost my copy of Oregon High on the trip.)
We began on a tangent through the woods from the church camp. Our long cut eventually took us to the PCT. We went a little far before leaving the trail to climb, but it all came out in the wash. The west face of Mt Washington was a nice, moderately steep, open bowl. The skiing looked promising. As Dave and I changed into our boots, Amar said something about kicking a favorable spacing between my steps. I figured I would leave the judgement call to him as to whether to kick extra steps when the time came.
The snow was perfect for booting. As a rough approximation, there was about 1,000 feet of 35 to 40 degree snow with a little roll near 50 at the top. Then we could follow a finger of snow all the way to the saddle on the North Ridge. I arrived at the North Ridge about fifteen minutes ahead of Amar and Dave. I changed into my hiking shoes and went to take a look at the climb. I got to the first real move, and observing some loose rock convinced me to go check on Amar and Dave.
Left to right: Broken Top, North Sister, and Middle Sister.
I returned and coaxed my companions to join me at the top of the snow finger. Before they got there, I returned to the climb, and decided I would just be sure to check every hold and go extra cautiously to avoid problems with the loose rock. Removing one loose rock gave Amar and Dave some cause for concern. I went to a vantage point with rappel slings to confer with them. I was going to return to them, but stepping back allowed to see the proper route, and then it was too easy not to climb. The summit views were great. I scribbled a line or two in the register.
The skiing was wonderful. The snow was perfect, and big, wide arcs were feeling great. The hike back was much quicker, and spit us out right on a road at the church camp. Amar was talking about skiing Three Fingered Jack the next day, but I would not hear of it. If Dave ever got back from his detour to the lake, I knew he would prefer one of the Three Sisters.