A Sudden Storm Turns a Mazama Climb into Tragedy
A Winter Climb Begins
The Gueffroy-Varney tragedy on Mount Hood – On Saturday, March 26, 1938, members of the Mazama Mountain Climbing Club gathered at the Mazama Lodge in Government Camp for what would be their first organized winter ascent of Mount Hood. Early the next morning, they traveled by bus to Timberline Lodge. Among the party were two men who knew the mountain well and whose paths would ultimately end there: Roy M. Varney, forty-seven, a veteran Mazama leader from Portland, and Russell Gueffroy, twenty-nine, of Vancouver, Washington, a Mazama and a member of the Mount Hood Ski Patrol.
Varney was respected and seasoned, a man who had led many climbs. Gueffroy was younger, energetic, and capable — known as a strong skier who sometimes went his own way on the mountain.
The Push Toward the Summit
At 4:00 a.m. on Sunday, March 27, the Mazamas set out from Timberline under the leadership of Joseph “Joe” Leuthold and William Wood. The snow was hard and crusted, the air biting cold. Following the snow-tractor’s track for about two miles, the party cached their skis and snowshoes before tackling the steeper slope. They climbed steadily up the Palmer Glacier, reaching Triangle Moraine by nine o’clock. By ten, they had gained the Hogsback, where they strapped on crampons and roped up in two groups for the final push.
The first party advanced toward the summit and came within fifty feet of the top, while the second party held back. Around 11:00 a.m., the weather changed dramatically. A fierce blizzard swept across the upper slopes. Gale-force winds pelted the climbers with sleet and ice, some chunks described as being the size of baseballs. Rime ice built up on their goggles and clothing until they were staggering under the weight. Visibility collapsed to near zero. The second party turned back as the storm gathered, and Leuthold soon ordered the first group to retreat as well.
Chaos in the Blizzard
Through the raging storm, the retreat turned chaotic. In the howling whiteout, the leaders tried to hold the party together, but it proved impossible. Stronger climbers pressed downslope toward Timberline, while others lagged behind.
At Crater Rock, Roy Varney began to falter. Dorothy Clark, another Mazama, remembered him gasping, “My God, Dorothy, I can’t see.” She supported him until William Wood and Russell Gueffroy stepped in. By midafternoon, above the Lone Fir shelter, Varney collapsed and could go no farther. Wood and Gueffroy built a rough shelter around him, trying desperately to keep him alive. Hours passed as snow buried them deeper. At last, Wood faced an impossible choice. If he stayed, he too would die. With great difficulty, he left Varney and stumbled into the storm. Gueffroy also separated, pressing downslope into the blizzard alone.
The Rescue Attempt
Forest Ranger Harold Engles had already been alerted to the crisis. He assembled rescuers including Hank Lewis, Max Becker, Henry Corbett, Clyde Hildreth, and Ralph Wiese. Battling whiteout conditions, they fought their way upslope. When Engles’ party finally reached Varney, he was barely alive. They lashed him to a toboggan and began the exhausting work of hauling him down.
It was past midnight when Varney reached Timberline Lodge. Rescuers worked desperately to save him. Ralph Wiese applied artificial respiration until a physician from Gresham, who had to walk the final mile through the storm, arrived at the lodge. Despite all efforts, the doctor pronounced him dead. Roy Varney had succumbed to exposure. His wife, Jessie, had tried to reach him by car from Government Camp but was trapped by drifts and snowbound on the road. She was not present when he passed.
The Search for Russell Gueffroy
Even as Varney’s death was confirmed, Gueffroy was still missing. His car remained parked in Government Camp, proof he had not returned.
On Monday, March 28, searchers set out, but worsening weather forced them back. Another blizzard shut down the effort on March 29. Only on Wednesday, March 30, did clearer skies allow a full-scale search.
More than fifty men spread across the slopes in a human chain, equipped with radios and bamboo poles to probe the snow. That day they found their first clue: Gueffroy’s skis, thrust upright into the snow near Lone Fir lookout station. From there, they traced his tracks for nearly three-quarters of a mile. Near a signpost pointing toward Timberline Lodge, they found banana peels — evidence he had stopped to eat in the storm, mustering strength for the struggle ahead. His tracks then wandered west into Sand Canyon, the drainage leading toward Zigzag Canyon and the Mount Hood Loop Highway.
Found Too Late
On Thursday, March 31, searchers pressed into Sand Canyon. Sweeping the slopes in formation, they spotted dimples in the snow at sunset. Digging down, they uncovered a ski pole. Not far away, beneath a fir tree, they found Gueffroy’s body.
He had come heartbreakingly close to survival. He lay only a mile and a half from the highway. His goggles were still on, his pack strapped to his back, his wrist fractured from a fall. Exhausted, he had sat down to rest and never risen again, the blizzard closing around him. His body was carried out to the road and returned to Portland.
Inside Timberline Lodge, his parents, the Rev. and Mrs. W. A. Gueffroy of Salem, had kept vigil during the agonizing wait. Now their son was returned to them — lifeless, but found at last.
Aftermath and Reflection
The Gueffroy-Varney Tragedy on Mount Hood shocked Oregon. Both men were skilled and experienced. Both were part of a large, organized Mazama climb. And both died within sight of safety.
In the days that followed, officials and mountaineers reflected on the tragedy. A. O. Waha, supervisor of Mount Hood National Forest, told reporters: “As long as there are men and mountains, there will be climbers, and there will be accidents.” The Forest Service concluded that regulation was impossible; only caution and education could save lives. Timberline Lodge pledged to provide guides and advice but could not compel the public to heed them.
The Mazamas admitted what the storm had proved: in such conditions, it was nearly impossible to keep a party together. Despite criticism, many believed that the decisions made on the mountain had saved others from the same fate.
The tragedy remains one of Mount Hood’s most haunting reminders of how suddenly the mountain can turn. A climb that begins in clear skies can dissolve into a blizzard that erases all landmarks and tests even the strongest will.
Sources
- The Oregonian, March 28–April 2, 1938
- Oregon Journal, March 1938
- Statesman Journal (Salem), March–April 1938
- East Oregonian (Pendleton), March 1938
- Baker City Herald, March 1938
- Albany Democrat-Herald, March 1938
- Klamath News, March 1938
- Time magazine, April 11, 1938 – “Death by Descent”
- Mazama Library & Historical Collections – Climbing records, reports, and archival photographs
- Grauer, Jack., Mount Hood-A Complete History, 1975
About the reconstructed images on this website.
Some images in this article may be reproductions based on historic photographs or newspaper articles that survive only in poor condition. These images have been digitally restored to improve clarity and, where necessary, reconstructed to represent the originals accurately. All reconstructions are guided by historical evidence and are intended to clarify-not reinterpret-the original scenes.
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