XC Snowshoe: HJ Ridge to Anderson
Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2015 4:36 pmHowdy All 
Before the last snow, friends and I did an exploratory snowshoe up Hikin' Jim's ridge to Anderson flat, then came down the Forsee shortcut on Forsee to main trail. The snow wasn't quit deep enough to cover brush and rocks. We also discovered that it was better to do the last steep climb with crampons versus snowshoes. We also wanted to find a lower approach to the ridge that didn't involve steep descents into and out of gullies and creek beds. Lastly, we ran out of time to summit Anderson that day and I wanted to scratch that itch.
Yesterday, Marilyn, Sally and I parked at the Forsee TH, donned microspikes and walked through the forest to gain the ridge at a lower point. This avoided the steep drop offs and ascents but took more time than the usual approach. We encountered snow fairly low, though the coverage was spotty. As we climbed, there was better coverage and deeper snow. We donned snowshoes at about 8 K and tried to stay in the middle of the ridge to avoid the brush and rock filled gullies on the right. The snow was not consolidated. Even with snowshoes, breaking trail was arduous. Finally reached the base of the last steep climb ("the wall") and traded snowshoes for crampons and ice-axe. I led and immediately found myself up to my waist in soft snow. I did the time honored method of using my entire body in an attempt to create a route. Basically, this felt like breast-stroking uphill through powder.
Once over the wall, we donned snowshoes again. After the protracted and difficult climb, we were looking forward to an easy stroll to Anderson Flat. HA! After just a few steps, I wondered why I was struggling to lift my feet. I looked down and discovered snow accumulating on my snowshoes -- even in the gap between forefoot and platform. We had to constantly shake the snow off our snowshoes and poles. I've never experienced such heavy, wet snow. It took forever to get to Anderson flat. On the final slog up to Anderson peak, I wanted to scream with frustration but was too exhausted. We were astonished that the "easy" part of our trek took so much effort.
At least the views from Anderson were spectacular. The pacific ocean glowed in the sunlight. We rested and chowed down, mindful that it was mid-afternoon and we wanted to be back on the trail before dark. Fortunately, descending XC was easier and faster. We found that some brave soul had it booted up the XC route. We followed the steps down -- Sally continuously checked our route so we wouldn't have to back track. We intersected the trail a bit below 9 K. Further down, we replaced the snowshoes with micros. The sunset produced incredible colors in the west (purple mountain majesty) as well as over the valley below us -- the most turquoise color I've ever seen. Had to don headlamps in the middle of the long last switchback heading east. We were very happy to arrive at Marilyn's AWD Lexis. A gorgeous, exhausting day. Both Marilyn and Sally asked plaintively if we could wait a while before doing this route again and I concurred.
Miles of smiles,
Ellen
Before the last snow, friends and I did an exploratory snowshoe up Hikin' Jim's ridge to Anderson flat, then came down the Forsee shortcut on Forsee to main trail. The snow wasn't quit deep enough to cover brush and rocks. We also discovered that it was better to do the last steep climb with crampons versus snowshoes. We also wanted to find a lower approach to the ridge that didn't involve steep descents into and out of gullies and creek beds. Lastly, we ran out of time to summit Anderson that day and I wanted to scratch that itch.
Yesterday, Marilyn, Sally and I parked at the Forsee TH, donned microspikes and walked through the forest to gain the ridge at a lower point. This avoided the steep drop offs and ascents but took more time than the usual approach. We encountered snow fairly low, though the coverage was spotty. As we climbed, there was better coverage and deeper snow. We donned snowshoes at about 8 K and tried to stay in the middle of the ridge to avoid the brush and rock filled gullies on the right. The snow was not consolidated. Even with snowshoes, breaking trail was arduous. Finally reached the base of the last steep climb ("the wall") and traded snowshoes for crampons and ice-axe. I led and immediately found myself up to my waist in soft snow. I did the time honored method of using my entire body in an attempt to create a route. Basically, this felt like breast-stroking uphill through powder.
Once over the wall, we donned snowshoes again. After the protracted and difficult climb, we were looking forward to an easy stroll to Anderson Flat. HA! After just a few steps, I wondered why I was struggling to lift my feet. I looked down and discovered snow accumulating on my snowshoes -- even in the gap between forefoot and platform. We had to constantly shake the snow off our snowshoes and poles. I've never experienced such heavy, wet snow. It took forever to get to Anderson flat. On the final slog up to Anderson peak, I wanted to scream with frustration but was too exhausted. We were astonished that the "easy" part of our trek took so much effort.
At least the views from Anderson were spectacular. The pacific ocean glowed in the sunlight. We rested and chowed down, mindful that it was mid-afternoon and we wanted to be back on the trail before dark. Fortunately, descending XC was easier and faster. We found that some brave soul had it booted up the XC route. We followed the steps down -- Sally continuously checked our route so we wouldn't have to back track. We intersected the trail a bit below 9 K. Further down, we replaced the snowshoes with micros. The sunset produced incredible colors in the west (purple mountain majesty) as well as over the valley below us -- the most turquoise color I've ever seen. Had to don headlamps in the middle of the long last switchback heading east. We were very happy to arrive at Marilyn's AWD Lexis. A gorgeous, exhausting day. Both Marilyn and Sally asked plaintively if we could wait a while before doing this route again and I concurred.
Miles of smiles,
Ellen
