Mount Ellinor
2019 was a big year for me. After many years of being sedentary, I was making some positive lifestyle changes, the first of which was giving up coffee. It's a strange place to start, but that's how it happened. Years of coffee drinking eventually interfered with my sleep to the point that I woke up every day with headaches. Finally realizing that the stuff wasn't good for me, I decided to give it up over an agonizing week where the headaches worsened, before eventually giving way to better sleep and improved mental clarity.
By accident, I replaced a bad habit with a good one. My good friend Alex got me back into running. In 2019, he already had a several year streak of running at least a mile every day and he inspired me to do the same. So instead of rolling out of bed first thing in the morning to make myself a double espresso, I went for a run, at least one mile a day. After a few days of this, I realized that the mental clarity and energy I thought I was getting from coffee was available through running, without the bad side effects.
As I was racking up the miles, I began to think about what to do with my newfound fitness. Since moving to Olympia, I had intended to get out and explore the hiking trails, but hadn't done very much due to poor conditioning and work/family commitments. Now that I was feeling stronger and more confident in my abilities, my thoughts turned toward hiking and to larger objectives, like climbing an actual mountain.
So that is how I found myself setting out on a climb of Mount Ellinor. I had heard a little bit about this mountain from friends who had hiked it in the summertime and figured it was as good a place as any to start. It turns out it was a very fortunate choice, as Ellinor was, on the day I climbed it, a very forgiving mountain with a huge payoff.
I didn't know what I was doing, but I had watched a few YouTube videos. I bought some equipment at REI including microspikes for foot traction, a helmet and an ice axe. I must have had some idea that I would need these things for a snow climb.
Not having a partner, I traveled alone, a practice that many people advise against. For a beginner, it probably wasn't a good idea, but the mountain was kind to me that day, giving me a gentle introduction to the world of alpine climbing and a glimpse of what was yet to come.
The winter route on Ellinor ascends the "avalanche chute", a shorter and steeper path to the summit than the summer route, climbing on snow. Depending on the day, the snow can range from soft slush to a sheet of ice. That day, I was fortunate to have almost the perfect mix of softness and firmness. With microspikes on my feet and my ice axe in hand, I ascended in the footsteps of unknown climbers who had gone before me. With each step, the views became more dramatic and like a positive feedback loop, propelled me even higher.
Nearing the summit, I ran into a solo female who was descending and thanked her for the steps she had kicked in for me. Soon I was all alone on the summit, basking in the glorious snow-covered peaks all around me. As they say, it was a spiritual experience. In silent reverence, I stood in the cathedral of nature, utterly in awe. I remember thinking, "Why haven't I done this before?", followed quickly by, "I wonder what else is out there?"
After about 30 minutes, I was joined by two other climbers whose names I forget. Here again, I was lucky, because they must have realized how little I knew about climbing mountains yet they were super supportive. They were very chill about the whole thing and never once were condescending or judged me for my obvious lack of knowledge, even saying at one point "That's what climbers do, we help each other." When it was time to head down, they showed me how to hold my ice axe properly to glissade. With their help, I was able to safely navigate the glissade from the summit and the longer glissade down the avalanche chute. The snow was the perfect consistency which allowed not too fast/not too slow glissading and I was able to use my axe as an effective brake.
The three of us walked back to the trailhead together. I had started the day at the lower trailhead, but they showed me a quicker way to return by way of the upper trailhead and a short road walk. They mentioned something about being "dirtbags", which at first I thought was a reference to drug use. When I said I wasn't into that, they laughed and got me up to speed on what a dirtbag is. After getting back safely, I thanked them for their help and we parted ways.
This was the trip that opened my eyes to the wild beauty previously hidden to me and was the jumping off point for many adventures to come. I was hooked.
Starting elevation: 2,658 ft | Elevation gain: 3,140 ft | Distance: 5.51 mi