Mt. Rainier
I knew that Mt. Rainier had the potential to be dangerous. I
told people that I expected this to be my most challenging climb, although it
would not be the highest. What I didn’t know was that it would be a serious
sphincter-puckering procession around crevasses, an adrenalin adventure below
ice falls, a mountaineering maneuver of monstrous proportions compared to my
extremely limited experience. But let me begin at the beginning and progress as
I usually do, day by day with notes from my journal, although I had precious
little time to write.
28 August 2013
Lisa’s mom Alice drove us to the airport with a pit stop at
the Ale House in Kahului. We devoured salads with Molokai sweet potatoes and
slices of tender rare beef followed by our first beers of the trip. At Stinger
Ray’s in the Maui airport we chased our lunch with a celebratory Margarita and
we were off to our big adventure in the Pacific Northwest.
At the Ale House
Our first conversation with the flight attendant went
something like this.
Marie: “Do you have Maui Brewing company beer?”
FA: “No, only Primo, Heinekin and Miller Light”
Lisa: “Do you have Tequila?”
FA: “No, only in first class”
Lisa: “I’ll have hot tea, do you have soy milk?”
FA: “No, that must be on that other airline”
Marie: “Do you have Digi-players for rent?” (Personal
in-flight entertainment)
FA: “We have 2 spares but you can only have one if no one
else’s breaks”
Marie: “I’ll have an Ocean Vodka with cranberry juice”
FA: “We don’t have cranberry juice, we have pineapple”
Marie: “OK, I guess I’ll have pineapple”
Well, the pineapple juice looked like a urine sample and
didn’t remotely taste like any fruit I have ever eaten so I gave it back in
exchange for tomato juice, which wasn’t much better. There was a Kona Brewing company
commercial playing on the big screen but they don’t have that beer either. Some
good-natured razzing of the flight attendant ensued and she had a good sense of
humor so after some laughs we settled into our seats for the flight.
By 12:19am we were safe and sound at La Quinta Inn by SeaTac
airport snuggling into crisp hotel sheets, very ready for a horizontal sleep.
29 August
My friend Brent picked us up at the hotel in the morning
driving a VW Vanagon, tricked out with a Ford engine, 4 wheel drive, a fridge,
a bed and a bike rack. After the hotel’s lame excuse for coffee we headed to
Lighthouse Café in the Fremont neighborhood of Seattle for a cup of the real
stuff. We then hit a vegan gluten-free bakery where Lisa and I were like kids
in a candy store. We bought a loaf of caraway bread still warm from the oven
and a maple nut muffin for the road. It was raining and grey but not cold.
We then headed to Ashford where my sister in law, Mardell,
waited for us at her friend’s cozy 3-story log cabin getaway where Blue Jays
flitted about in the tall pines. We ate our pasta dinner outside around a
roaring fire and received an impromptu visit from my brother Joe who got the
crazy notion to hop on a motorcycle, ride for over 2 hours to pop in on us then
turn around and ride back home in order to get to work at 6 a.m. It was a sweet
surprise but I worried about him until I heard he had made it home safely.
My big brother Joe
Lisa, Brent and me
30 August
In the morning Lisa and I went for a cool, early morning run
on a four-mile loop of forested road. I reveled in the scent of wet earth, moss
and pine. We flushed a herd of deer and passed a neighbor’s pond that had a
tiny tall-ship afloat.
Later in the afternoon we had our gear check and orientation
at International Mountain Guides headquarters down the road. We met our fellow
climbers, Tim, Denise, Lee, Eric and Olya; relieved to find out they were a
hearty and fun group. You never know what you’re going to get when you book a
trip like this but we instantly bonded with the gang and with the head guide,
Emily, who would lead our short expedition. The other guides on the trip were Greg, Mark, Jenny and Dan,
all highly experienced and tons of fun. Emily, who had calves the size of my
thighs, doubled as a river guide in the off season, Jenny was also an Air Force
Reserve helicopter pilot and Greg, besides summiting Everest had, as coach, led
the US Men’s Beach Volleyball team to a gold medal in 2000. We rented our
crampons, ice axes, mountaineering boots and helmets and crammed them into our
packs. The weather was clear and warm but had been somewhat unstable so there
were no guarantees about making the summit. No teams had been to the top in
days but we would give it our best shot.
31 August
We met at the headquarters again at 8 a.m. sharp to load up the van and begin our drive through Gifford Pinchot National Forest, to Paradise, the jumping off point for our climb. Then, with packs on our backs we began our ascent of Mt. Rainier.
Mt. Rainier is a stratovolcao which sits about 50 miles southeast of Seattle. It rises 14,411 feet (2.7miles) out of the earth and is considered to be one of the most dangerous volcanoes on the planet. If it were to erupt the large amounts of glacial ice on it could cause massive destruction by lahar. I heard the guides talking about lahars. I had to look it up. It is a Javanese word that describes mudflows or debris flows. When Rainier erupts, the resulting lahars could destroy the whole Puyallup River Valley. As many as 150,000 people could be at risk and lahars can happen with little or no advance warning.
As we headed towards the Muir snowfield in the bright sun we had no fear of lahars or eruptions. The day was glorious. We wound our way on the path through western hemlock, Douglas fir and western red cedar. As we climbed into the sub alpine meadows we saw lupine, mountain daisies and Pink Mountain heather. A marmot ambled by and a chipmunk chased after tiny balls of snow that Lee lobbed at it, teasing it as though he were offering food. Ravens squawked overhead. When we hit the snowfield we stopped to don our mountaineering boots and slip on another layer of wind resistance. On we trudged, slipping and kicking our way into the snow up to Camp Muir at 10,080 feet. We made it up in just over five hours. I thought that was pretty good time until I heard stories of the speed record for ascent and descent being under five hours. That's all the way to the summit and back down to the parking lot. That's just ridiculous. Who are these people?
Camp Muir is a collection of huts, outhouses and storage sheds that serve as base camp for the standard route up Mt. Rainier. After Jenny fed us fat, black bean burritos in the kitchen tent we headed for a bunkhouse named the Gombu after Newang Gombu Sherpa, a Nepali man who had worked on Rainier for years. He was the first man to summit Everest twice and was the nephew of Tenzing Norgay, who reached the summit of Everest with Edmund Hillary in 1953. We slept on wooden platforms, side by side, listening to the assorted snores of our comrades and roaring winds outside the building. The sky was clear, a sliver of moon and bright stars shining down on the snow.
View of Mt. Adams from Camp Muir
In the morning we scarfed down piles of bacon and pancakes. Well, most of the gang ate pancakes. After we tasted Jenny's attempt at gluten free pancakes for Lisa and me we opted for oatmeal. I recommended they switch to Pamela's gluten free pancake mix for future climbs. Jenny was a good sport, happily dumping the rest of the GF cakes in the trash. Then it was time for snow school. We got our harnesses and crampons on and Emily roped us up to practice trudging up and down and back and forth on the glacier. We stepped carefully, trying not to puncture the rope, keeping in sync with the climber in front of us so as to avoid too much or too little tension on the line. Next we picked up our ice axes and practiced getting into a self-arrest position from several different falling positions. I was a little surprised that we didn't really slide and have to stop ourselves. When I had snow school on Mt. Shasta they made us actually fall so that we could practice actually stopping. I wondered how effective this lesson would be but as Emily stated, the number one rule is don't fall, the number two rule is don't fall and the number three rule is don't fall. Unfortunately 3 people on the far side of the mountain did fall down a crevasse and spent the night there. Luckily they were rescued.
Helicopter heading out for crevasse rescue
After gathering together the rest of our gear and roping up in teams it was time to head up to our second camp. It was a short climb, snaking around crevasses, crossing Ingraham Glacier to The Flats at 11,100 feet. Since no one had slept this high in days camp was a bit of a mess. We all set to work with ice axes and shovels to level a spot and set up our tents about 100 feet behind a HUGE crevasse. Two little prayer flags about 50 feet away stuck out of the suspiciously yellow snow. Yes, that's your pee hole our guides told us. Don't be modest and go wandering off to find a private place. Something you want to avoid when mountain climbing; having to be rescued out of a crevasse with your pants around your ankles.
As we were climbing to camp other teams had passed us going down the mountain, telling us there was no way to the summit. The snow earlier in the week had closed the route, covering crevasses, making it unsafe to climb higher. Well....that's what they said. Mark and Greg, two of our tenacious guides, thought differently and proceeded on ahead to scout a safe route up the mountain. After a hearty dinner of veggie stir-fry and quinoa we crawled into our tents at 5:30 p.m. to try to catch a few hours of sleep before the summit attempt. The wind was roaring, whipping and flapping the tent around our heads but we managed to saw a few logs before midnight.
Note the flags in the lower left corner; note the large crevasse beyond that.
1-2 September
Shortly after midnight Emily came round to our tents to roust us even though the wind was still howling and clouds were all around us. We hastily inhaled a bowl of oatmeal, sucked up some coffee and it was time to slip into harness and helmet, strap on crampons and rope ourselves together in groups of 3. Emily was lead guide with me next on the rope, followed by Lisa. The rest of the gang tied on to their respective guides and followed us up. My focus became my feet in the glow of my headlamp. I carefully placed each step, trying to stay in the imprint of Emily's boots. I followed her shadowy form doing my best to keep even tension on the line between us. At some points my best wasn't good enough. I could feel the line stretching out creating tension on Emily. Fortunately she had no qualms about giving me a hard time. "Come on Marie! I know you can move faster than that!" And she was right. I picked it up. I've always performed better with a tough coach and I liked Emily's style. Scrambling below an ice fall requires speed. You want to pass beneath it quickly in case a massive serac decides to shift, slide or tumble down into your path or on top of you. You don't want to linger there. I needed that prod.
The ice fall in daylight
After crossing the glacier we arrived at Disappointment Cleaver where we scrambled over narrow, crumbling icy rocks. when we finally got to a point where we could take a break, the first of our group dropped out, Lee decided to head back down to camp. A little way farther up the trail a second member, Eric turned back. The going was tough and dark in the thin air and no one blamed them for deciding to opt out. When we came to a crevasse that we had to jump across Tim and Denise chose to give up the bid for the summit. Yes, we had to jump across a crevasse! So EXCITING!!!! Lisa didn't agree that it was so exciting though. She tried to step across and got stuck with a foot on either side, her legs splayed across the fissure. But with a quick swing of her ice ax she was able to dig in and pull herself across. Next time she'll just jump.
We were down to three climbers and two guides when I felt a strong tug on my rope from behind. I heard Lisa say, "I feel nauseous" and when I turned around I saw she had taken a seat on the snow. Since I couldn't move ahead Emily couldn't move ahead. When her line came up taught she stomped back to Lisa and told her she had ten seconds to decide whether or not she could go on because another team was coming up behind us and we had to get going. In an instant, Lisa was up and ready to go. She was not giving up. She is one tough cookie. Next we encountered a ladder horizontally spanning a crevasse. Maneuvering across with crampons is a little bit of an adrenalin rush. I kept looking down into the crevasse trying to see how far the aquamarine iciness went. I wished I could photograph it but it was dark and the weather was heavy and it wasn't really a good time to stop and take out my camera. Later Lisa would tell me what was going through her head at this point..."I can't f#*&ing believe they are letting me do this s*#t! I'm a mother! I have to get home to my kid!"
As we climbed the next ladder we encountered, this one vertical across another chasm, my mind was saying, "How are we going to get back down this s*#t! I don't think I'm qualified for this s#*t!" But I scrambled up over the top of the ladder, perching on a ledge while I waited for Lisa to climb up. A little farther on we had to ascend a vertical wall of packed snow and ice, kicking our crampons in, using our ice axes to pull ourselves up.
Thanks to our scouting team, protection was in place on all these challenges. Fixed ropes were laid out along the ladders and up the vertical pitch so that we were bolted to the mountain and tied to our buddies at all times. As hazardous as it sounds it actually felt quite safe. It was still epically thrilling!
The trail then leveled out a bit and we seemed to be past the worst of it. We were moving along slowly, stopping and shivering while Emily pounded pickets into the snow for us to clip on to. The wind picked up so that I was nearly blown off my feet. It was grueling work trying to stay upright on a narrow snowy path. Then I realized I could hear the hammering up ahead but I couldn't see the person hammering. The clouds had dropped even lower, swirling ice and snow around us. I heard Emily shout, "That's it! The wind has picked up, the viz has dropped, we're turning around." We were at 12,800 feet, just 1610 feet an two hours from the summit.
The trail was too narrow for Emily to come 'round and lead us so Mark and Olya headed back down on their rope and Lisa took the lead on ours. We had to move quickly to keep Mark in sight so that we wouldn't lose the trail. Going down was not as hard as I had thought it would be. I thoroughly enjoyed the ladders and crevasse jumping but once we were back on the rock the footing was shakier. We were short roped, close together when I caught my crampon on my pants leg and started to lose my balance. As we practiced in snow school I yelled, "Falling!" as I tipped slowly over on to the rocks. Lisa immediately dropped into an anchor position, ready to arrest my fall. Meanwhile Emily is casually standing by, obviously amused, watching me fall. "You're not going anywhere," she said. And it was true; we were on pretty level ground not on the edge of an abyss or even a slippery slope. We had a good chuckle as I sheepishly pulled myself to my feet. But at least I know Lisa has my back. I'll be happy to climb with her again any time.
We continued on down the mountain all the way to the parking lot in one long twelve hour shot, glissading when we could. We were even able to do some standing glissades without falling over. By the time we met our van the top of the mountain was clear but we learned there were still ripping winds at the summit and no one else had made it to the top that day either. So along with our guides, it was Lisa, a total beginner, Olya, a tiny blond Russian girl and me, an almost beginner, who made it higher on the mountain than anyone had in days. We were pretty proud of ourselves. I hadn't expected to encounter such a technical climb and I had never been interested in that kind of climbing before. I had always thought it would be too scary. But I absolutely LOVED it and can't wait to do it again. It just recharged my interest in climbing mountains.
So we didn't make the summit, but we were still successful at the main purpose of our trip, which was to raise money for the Breast Cancer Fund who works to eliminate our exposure to toxic chemicals and radiation linked to the disease. Because of everyone's support our total came to $12,471.00! I'd like to extend a HUGE thank you for the generous donations and continued support throughout the years. And of course I have next year's trip in the works. I will be rejoining the Sacred Treks with my good friend Cathy Ann leading the way through the Georgian Caucasus and perhaps we'll bag a summit while we're there.
THANK YOU ALL FOR HELPING THE BREAST CANCER FUND DO THE AMAZING WORK THEY DO.
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