Mt. Hood: Ice, Exposure, and Evolution

After Shuksan, I was hungry for more—and Mt. Hood was next on the list. At 11,239 ft, it may not have the technical rock of Shuksan or the sheer scale of Rainier, but it packs a punch. What makes it unique is how accessible it is from Portland—and that’s both a blessing and a curse. The mountain sees a high number of summit attempts and, unfortunately, a high number of incidents. We knew we had to be prepared.

I teamed up with Chad, Steve, Sarah, and Hayley for the climb. With more confidence under our belts and increasing technical skills, we opted to do this unguided. The route we chose was a classic: up the Hogsback to the Pearly Gates and down via the Mazama Chute. It’s a roughly 7-mile round trip with a 5,300 ft elevation gain—done in about 12 hours.

Most of the climb was on moderate snow slopes, but things got real at the final push. We took the right-side variation of the Pearly Gates—an exposed line with steep ice steps. I’d never ice-climbed before, and this half-hour section was by far one of the most intense and intimidating stretches I’d ever faced in the mountains. I used both my ice axe and a second tool, slowly and carefully working my way up each step, fully aware of the drop below.

The descent via Mazama Chute wasn’t any more relaxing. The slope was steep and exposed, and required careful downclimbing for over an hour just to reach the Hogsback again. At one point, I could see a 500+ ft drop down to the fumarole—not something you want to mess around near.

But with that challenge came growth. I felt like I leveled up—more comfortable on steep terrain, more confident managing my tools, and more attuned to assessing risk and moving with intent. While the summit itself was beautiful, the real win was how much I learned through the process.

Mt. Hood was a reminder that every mountain brings its own personality, its own demands. This wasn’t just about bagging another peak—it was about earning it. And as our team made it safely back down, I felt a quiet sense of pride—not just in the summit, but in the small, hard-earned steps that are shaping me into a more complete climber.