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Mount Rainer, July 2009

By HONEST LINES

July 30^th, 2009

IN THe BEGINNING

This wasn't my first rodeo. I was one for two with the Mountain, and Mark and Dean and I had been climbing various objectives around the Pacific Northwest for years—it was simply time to do it again.

We'd emailed and talked gear lists and training and food and other various preparatory activities leading up to the climb, but it wasn't until we were all together in Marks' living room and sorting gear that it got Real. It's those same kind of anticipatory feelings before any big endeavor—the butterflies, the anxiety, the questions of whether you trained enough or could remember what to do if someone fell... all part of the experience. We slimmed down our packs, kissed the wives and kids goodbye, and pointed the car south.

We left the traffic of suburban western Washington and entered the Park. Not bothering with a tent, we shook out bags and slept at the White River campground, with the intention of being first in line for the daily permits. The sound of the river combined with the flow state that comes once a trip is underway and we were quickly asleep. Dawn came at the usual early hour, and we hustled down to the ranger station to secure our permit for Camp Schurman, our destination for that day's walk. Shouldering packs, we started up the trail to Glacier Basin and beyond.

THE APPROACH

The spring season of rains and flooding that year had worked the valley over something fierce. Trail crews had been working on things for a while, but there was still no small amount of work to be done. We wound through downed trees and over washed out trails before arriving at Glacier Basin and the start of the fun stuff.

Ascending the hogsbacked ridge, our view of the Interglacier became clearer and we could begin to see our path up to that evening's campsite. We took our time, both to enjoy the wildflowers and amazing views, as well as to keep some energy in reserve for the coming steepness.

The Interglacier was clean enough that we decided to forgo roping up. Kicking steps in the sun, we slowly zig-zagged back and forth across the face of the glacier, only pausing to refresh sunblock and put down some water and calories. We passed a few slower-moving groups and retreated into our headphones, focusing on breathing and steps.

Camp Schurman in any other location could easily be mistaken for a "wretched hive of scum and villainy". Here though, it's a veritable micro-village of climbers and rangers, complete with stone cabin and privy, as well as "running" water. We set up camp and were grateful for the decision to make this a bit of an old man's trip and take three days for the climb.

We were able to stay up a bit later than normal, knowing we wouldn't be climbing the next day, and in doing so managed to capture a few evening views we'd otherwise miss.

THE REST DAY

Our second day consisted mainly of taking photos, playing cards, eating, snoozing, and practicing crevasse rescue. Watching other climbers come and go while we just hung out made for an entertaining and quite social day. The executive board of REI was having a "board meeting" up there at the time so it was interesting to chat with a few of them, as well as a variety of climbers from all over the country who'd come to try their skills and luck.

The SUmmIT DAY

We got up early.

We weren't the first team up, but we quickly put ropes and crampons into place and started up. The route was in good shape and we easily moved up through the darkness, our path only existing within the immediate glow of our headlamps. In the cold and dark, each of us were left alone with our thoughts and personal suffering-coping mechanisms, attached at the hip by the bright orange rope.

“Of all the fire mountains which like beacons, once blazed along the Pacific Coast, Mount Rainier is the noblest.”

John Muir

It was cold and we were tired. For a long time the summit stayed perpetually too far away to imagine, and it was easy to feel like we weren't traversing anything Earthly as we left snow and ice and began to advance up the rough volcanic slough and talus. The wind picked up the nearer we got to the top, and the distance between us started to lengthen as we were now unroped and moving according to our own inner soundtracks and energy levels. Below the summit, we regrouped and started to scout around for the most direct path to the high point of the summit cone.

THE SUMMIT

We made it.

It was windy and cold, so we didn't linger for very long. After a few photos, we sat inside the lip of the caldera and refueled, knowing we were only halfway home.

“The mountain receives our expressions and becomes part of us; we imprint our memories upon it and trust it with out dearest divisions of out lives. Mt. Rainier does not exist under our feet. Mt. Rainier lives in our minds”

― Bruce Barcott, Measure of a Mountain: Beauty and Terror on Mount Rainier

THE DESCENT

The walk out was long. We passed through some spectacular glacial features with our mouths and eyes wide open, glad that we'd had the blessing of darkness to climb through them earlier that morning. The views of our tent below back at Camp Schurman pulled us down ploddingly, and we could tell we were in for a long afternoon.

After resting back at Camp Schurman for a bit, we packed up and began the rest of the descent. Not wanting to drop back down on to the Winthrop Glacier, we went up and over Steamboat Prow—not a light undertaking with full packs and still-wobbly legs. The exposure and friability of the rock made for a few slightly spicy moments, but it was worth it to be able to glissade from the top of the Interglacier and descend nearly 2,000 vertical feet in mere minutes.

THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE ROPE

The result? Good memories, good photos, and good friendships made stronger. We definitely felt the effects of the physical effort in the following days, but what lasted—and continues to inspire—were the feelings of camaraderie and the shared experience of a place only a small percentage of humans ever see.