We decided to circumnavigate Loowit mountain, known also as Mount Saint Helens to kick off backpacking season in June 2025. Our backpacking book recommended this hike for June, so we set out with excitement for the trailhead on a Thursday evening. As we were driving up the mountain, we noticed cars thinning out, the air cooling, and snow banks beginning to appear here and there on the side of the road.

We began pulling up trip reports to make sure the trail was going to be passable. We could only find a few reports in the previous couple weeks, and they were all so dramatic, with descriptions of treacherous glacier crossings and slick boulder fields and steep trails, washed out in different places, and blow downs and basically every trial and tribulation known to mankind. Of course, we didn’t have enough information to know whether the authors of these reports were offering measured advice relevant to our safety, or whether they were a bunch of drama queens trying to make themselves look good by exaggerating their feats. In other words, we weren’t sure whether to laugh or shake in our boots, but there we were eventually at the trailhead with Jaxson and all our gear and the only place to go was up. So we headed out.

It didn’t help our nerves that the first two folks we passed were heading down from the Loowit Trail and one of them had a broken and bleeding nose. They shared their reservations about our planned timeline for the trail, and shared a bit about their trip without mentioning the broken and bloody nose, so we ignored that part too and figured if they could make it around the mountain, then so could we.

It also didn’t help our nerves that the whole first day we were shrouded in cloud and basically alone, minus two trail runners who passed by at some point. But the trail was fun with lots of boulder scrambling, and after awhile we decided it was too much work to worry about whether we were doing something treacherous or relatively tame, so we gave up and just enjoyed ourselves.

Shawn shrouded in cloud, possibly shaking in their boots.

Then after we settled in, we started having fun describing what was really a relatively benign trail in extreme terms as the other trip reporters, and almost fell to our death on many occasions, including this extreme river crossing!

and this class 5 scramble…

After a long day of scrambling, mostly in solitude, we ran into a few tents at the river crossing where we camped. The following day, we sauntered through dewy fairy forests and fields of bear grass in peak bloom. This was Shawn’s first encounter with field’s of bear grass in their glory moment, which typically only lasts for about a week every year. They were ecstatic.

slope of beargrass, hanging with some paintbrush and penstemon

After awhile, we began a long ascent. The trail zigged and zagged. It was Saturday morning and suddenly trail runners began appearing in small groups, out for a 30 mile jog. We took our time.

Truly every twist of this trail was breathtaking and such a delight. Every few miles something different started happening. Because Loowit exploded so recently, every side of the mountain is unique based on its proximity to the explosion, and the lava and rockslides that ensued. This meant a mix of boulder fields, rivers, forests, and more barren landscapes; every part of the mountain recovering from the explosion in its own unique way. Partway through day two, we had navigated toward the noth end of the mountain, still largely barren. The clouds dispersed and we got to pull out our sun umbrellas for the first time.

Another highlight of the trip appeared on a hilltop not long before we made camp on the second day. You’d have to zoom in to see them, but a herd of mountain goats is grazing at the top of the the butte in the following photo. I wanted to scamper up to say hi, but there was no trail and it was also the end of a long hot day, and if I’m going to be honest, mountain goats in the wild are much less like the cute petting zoo kind and look much more like beefy rams that would charge you if you startled them. I remembered the unaccounted for broken and bloody nose, and decided to err on the side of watching from a distance.

We finally came to a river crossing and made camp for the night. On our final day, the sun rose and began heating up the cloudless air, and it was hard to even remember the snow banks we encountered on Day 1. The trail that day wound up and down as it crossed streams and by mile 5 or 6, we were feeling fatigued. We decided to head down to the closest trailhead to get out of the sun and hitch a ride back to Jaxson. It was afternoon time, and we were a bit nervous that the trailhead would be deserted, but when we reached it, we ran right into a huddle of folks wearing “volunteer” vests. We let them know that we had gotten some early signs of heat exhaustion and had come off the mountain, and they immediately congratulated us for adjusting our plans, and offered us electrolytes and a ride to our car.

At the end of this trip, we reflected on this fortunate turn and also the beauty, diversity, and lessons of this mountain going through its own process of healing and transformation, and offering up a bounty of learning and sweetness and diversity and beauty, as all mountains do in their own way. We are grateful to Loowit, for its many gifts and teachings. We also decided that the guesome trip reports were part of this mountain’s magic to keep away the crowds, so if anyone asks, please just tell them about the bloody nose, the menacing goats, and the extreme river crossings.

The Loowit Trail

The Highline Trail

3rd Annual Summer Kick Off