What: Climb Rainier!
When: July 12- July 14th 2009
As a quick aside: The one thing I forgot was my camera (hey, I'm glad it was the camera and not my crampons!). All these photos are from either Matt, Todd, Mark, or Ken (not sure who took what)
The original plan was to hike from the Paradise Parking lot (5,400ft) to Camp Muir (10,080ft) Sunday, summit (14,410 ft) Monday.
I was skeptical of the plan since the forecast Monday was supposed to be the worst day of the week. I suggested we reserve space at Muir for Monday night as well, so we could potentially summit Tuesday. Fortunately the group was completely willing to be lenient in the plans.
Big splashes of rain splattered on my window as I drove to the Park and Ride at 4:30am on Sunday. After meeting Matt and Ron, we drove to Rainier NP surrounded by dreary weather. We talked about how disappointing it would be to get to the Paradise parking lot and cancel our trip without setting foot on the mountain. You can’t hike in a lighting/thunder storm, there’s no place to hide. Needless to say, spirits were low as we drove. Also disappointing was knowing that when I came back from the trip I was going to have a flat tire (I found a nail, and it was leaking).
The moment we parked at Paradise we were met with smoke pouring out of Matt’s hood. When we opened it up we found a pinpoint hole in the antifreeze hose. It was spraying anti-freeze everywhere. Things weren’t looking too good for an easy return home.
We went to register our team and confirm our climbing permits with the Ranger Station while waiting for the arrival of our climbing buddies. Turns out half of them were just lollygagging in the plush hotel and enjoying a lax breakfast. Todd was a little later due to the Whidbey Island fairy schedule. During this time we were able to contact Charlie, a friend who was coming to Rainier NP the next day. We hoped he might be able to bring us a new hose and antifreeze. He said he would see what he could do.
Despite the cars, we turned to high spirits knowing that Rainier existed somewhere behind the clouds/haze/mist that denied us from any view other than the parking lot. We hoped we packed enough (and considered the fact that we may have packed too much) and were off.
Walking on a mixture of pavement and snow we headed up the heavily used day trail that leads not only to Camp Muir but to a wonderful scenic view for the average day hiker. Although it was not our goal to be the first team to get to Muir, we were able to beat all the guided groups. The walk wasn’t too bad and we only took a few breaks. The sun was a little hot and once you can see Camp Muir you think its moments away when in fact its 30-45 minutes in the distance (squashing many hopes and dreams). Ken led a fantastically fast pace that Matt and I couldn’t completely keep up with. Mark and Todd decided to go with Ron’s consistent pace, slightly behind.
Since we got to Muir early, we were able to spot some great looking snow-tent-platforms. We scooped them up for our 2 tents and Ken’s bivy. Before I even gandered at the time, the tents were up and we were already making water for refills and dinner. I gave all my extra water to Todd; it was nice to know the extra weight I carried up would be going to good use.
Muir is a very dirty place. It’s used by TONS of people each year, and has been for quite some time. We decided the safest and quickest way to make safe water was to melt it and then pump it through a filter (much faster than boiling each pot). This was a great combination. During one melting water batch Matt found a piece of rice. At the end of the melting period the bottom of the pot was covered with little black particles.
We attempted bed rather early since we had decided on a midnight wake-up call. I can assure you its quite hard to fall asleep when it’s still light outside!
We all woke up a bit before the alarm, more due to the big gusts of wind and sound of hail/snow hitting our tent. I didn’t even want to get out of the tent, perfectly content with the idea of summitting the next day, since the weather was supposed to be great. Others got out of the tent and walked to the outhouse. It turns out our tent was covered from the majority of the wind; at the more exposed outhouse area, our teammates were almost blown off the hill! They agreed that perhaps it wasn’t the best time to attempt the mountain and we all went back to bed.
There was one RMI team that got the summit, but when they came back down they all talked about how it had been the most miserable experience ever (but they were stoked to have summited). I don’t think that’s how I’d like my summits to be. All the other teams gave up or didn’t make an attempt.
A crazy cloud seen from Muir
The day passed by as we ate, napped, ate, napped, hung around chatting, until the weather cleared later in the day and the sun came out. It was getting later, around 4pm, but we decided that it would be good excerise and practice to head up to the Ingraham Glacier. We were hoping to scout out the route up the cleaver and to get an idea about how our pace would be when we made our summit attempt the following day.
We roped up to cross the flats (not totally necessary, but extra safety couldn’t hurt), the biggest danger here was rockfall. We went up this sand/loose rock gully to get to Ingraham. This was a great idea for it was easy to navigate in the full sun but wouldn’t be as simple in the darkness.
We did about 800-1000 feet per hour, not too shabby, if we could start with that pace the next day, we’d make great time. Ron lead the first rope team since we were more confident with his navigational skills and pace setting. Matt was in the middle and I was on the end. Todd lead the second team, since he would act as the pace setter for rope 2, and Mark and Ken followed.
When we got to the Ingraham Glacier we met up with Bruce (Ron's blind friend) and his guided group. They were spending the night at high camp (we would have liked to, but we didn’t get reservations since we didn’t want to risk moving potentially wet equipment). Their guide pointed out the route on the glacier and was really helpful. We were even more confident after the talk. The guide said that he had heard of some people making it up in 5 hours with this new, more direct route.
Soon we were headed down, to boil more water and eat dinner-- it’d be another early night. After dinner we were in the tents before 8pm, although most of us couldn’t get to sleep since it was still so light out.
Once again we woke up before midnight. A few people tested the weather by making their way to the outhouse and checking the more accurate conditions (instead of the windblocked area our tents were in). It looked like perfect weather, a little cold (to be expected) but almost no wind and really, it wasn’t that cold.
We were on the road at 1:08. We could see two teams of 3 ahead of us by the gully and we quickly caught up to them. Soon after these Frenchies got lost on the gully we were able to pass by them with our advanced route knowledge from the day before. Since the gully was mostly blocked by the wind we actually were kind of hot while climbing, it was great once we reached the top and there was a breeze to cool us back down.
We passed by another team who were strapping on their crampons and took a small 3-5 minute break to drink some water at the high camp. We had about the same pace as the day before, great!
Then it was non-stop up the glacier to the cleaver. The cleaver is this big rock formation that was half covered in snow, ice, rockfall and sand. It was mostly easy navigating although one point Ron came to a spot where he thought right or left could both be the trail. He picked right and soon our rope team was on all 4’s with the pick of our axe on the side of this ice gully, a death grip with our free hand on the other side, and we were toe-pointing with our crampons. We called back to the other rope team to take the left side and they easily came up a switchback without even debating use of their ice axe. Ron claimed he knew our team wanted a challenge so he was trying to abide by our wishes.
Around this time I noticed my headlight going dim. I hoped it would last just a little longer. The sky was pretty clear so the moon was able to light the way, but there were a few clouds that would come by and block the light. Before I knew it my headlamp was out. I called up to my team but Ron didn’t want to stop. The Cleaver is notorious for traffic jams and he didn’t want to have any part in that.
I figured I could go without light for a little while, especially since the moon was shining at that point. A few steps later, the moon was behind a cloud and I tripped on a rock and fell on to my knee and felt a sharp pain. I got up fast since I didn’t want to hold back the rope team and was suddenly a little dizzy. I called up to my rope and claimed I needed to stop to change my batteries. They seemed annoyed, but also had no clue that I had fallen, and I don’t think they realized how dark it was without light.
I quickly got to my other batteries and before long I had a working headlamp and we were on our way again. No other team was anywhere near us. The rest of our team was also able to use this as a break to drink water and rest, I was a little jealous I didn't have time to refersh as well.
Unfortunately, my batteries were either cold or were having some other problems for my headlight soon started flickering. Before I knew it those batteries were out too. Argh! I kept the light switched on and every now and again I would get a few pulses of light. During these times I would be so much more confident in my steps, and try to make greater strides since I was a little slower in the dark. There were a few switchbacks were I was a little slower and the rope pulled taught. I hated being the slowest one on the team, but I couldn’t do anything about it, I was trying as hard as I could to be safe. A few times when I tried to go fast I’d slip or catch my crampons on uneven ground, I didn’t want to fall completely and need to arrest, or need to rely on my team to help arrest.
The good news is, every minutes that passed, it was getting lighter. Also, we were over the rock jumble and were just going up steep snow switchbacks. Our Rope 1 team pushed ahead and we lost sight of the other team. We took a break right before the large traverse right, at the very top of the cleaver.
Although we weren’t waiting too long, it was long enough for Matt to loan me his spare batteries and for us to start getting cold. When the second rope joined us we were more than ready to go, but knew they also needed a break.
The next part was rather easy going, a straight traverse across the mountain. Though there were many more crevasse’s to cross. At one point we paralleled a gigantic crevasse that you could look down into and not really see the bottom. Hippo’s and Rhinosori (hah) could be eaten alive!
This part was great; the sun was starting to come up and was casting an orange glow everywhere. After the level traverse it was back to steep switchbacks in the snow (for the rest of the route). A few switchbacks in and the sun gained in beauty, we called down to the second rope team to glance to their right to take in the view. Todd didn’t want to listen; he was on a mission, step, step, step. He knew he was on the right path and didn’t care about anything else. His teammates kept telling him to stop but he would wave them off without looking up. Finally, after a minute of heckling, he looked up and was about to see the breathtaking view. It was a big hazy to the north, but we were able to see tons of mountains sticking up from the south. Little Tahoma also looked much more…little.
Rope one kept on steady ahead (as did rope two, but not quite as fast). An hour or so later I wasn’t feeling so good. I was a little slow on about 3 of the switchbacks and found the rope coming taught a few times (no, not again, I hate being the slow one!). I requested a break and the team agreed. By the time we reached 13000 feet there wasn’t a breeze to be found so it wasn’t a hardship to stop and take in the beauty. At this point I drank a decent amount of water and also ate a bit (for the first time since breakfast). I could tell my energy was low, and I was really hoping the food would help. I had about 1/3 a bagel (it was a little stiff and hard to chew) and let the team know I was feeling much better. We were on our way again and I immediately noticed a change.
I was no longer pulling on the rope, in fact it was quite the opposite. Before I realized what was going on I’d have a bunch of slack in the rope and have to wait or start taking much smaller steps for the rope to gain tension. I also started a new stepping routine which I think helped tremendously (as well as my new positive outlook).
Instead of looking at the ground directly in front of my feet before taking a step, I would look at the footprints in front of me and make “goals” of my next steps. I wouldn’t be mad if I didn’t make my goal step, but each step would have an initial goal. If I did reach the goal, I’d be happy, if I didn’t reach the goal I would just make a new one and hope to reach it the next time. I think this increased the size of my step and as I stepped I would utter “goal” each time, which also kept my breathing consistent.
I started feeling like a million dollars. I didn’t even notice that our pace had slowed, I figured it was just the calories I ate and my rejuvenated outlook and plan. Apparently, this is when Matt started to not feel so well (I had no idea at the time). Later that day he confessed he had actually started being the slow one and was slowing Ron down by keeping the rope taught.
For some reason, no matter how many switchbacks we seemed to do, the summit only looked like it was getting further away. At a crevasse crossing we met a team of two coming down the mountain. They told us we were less than a half an hour away. What?! It looked at least an hour away, plus Ron’s watch said we were still 800 feet under and our pace had slowed dramatically. Ron claimed this was a pile of crap lie, and we were saddened knowing that we still had an hour+.
The switchbacks were aimed at some rocks, and within half an hour we met up with the rocks and discovered the summit!!! We couldn’t believe it. Matt actually seemed quite disappointed. I think he had prepared himself for the worst and wasn’t ready to accept the fact we were there—there wasn’t enough suffering yet. For the first 15 minutes in the summit crater he talked about nothing but how illusive the summit was and how he couldn’t believe all we had to do was round a corner and we’d be there.
By saying "we were at the summit," I really meant we were on one side of the summit bowl. The true summit was still a half mile walk through the crater to get to the other, higher, side. Matt and I decided to head there after getting a bit to eat. [Ron had already left to go meet his blind friend Bruce on the other side, they had started earlier in the day than we had, from high camp, and had beat us up]. Matt’s meal was my extra bagel, since I was the only one who really packed for 3 days of food, I had some to spare. Although there was virtually no wind in the crater, the side of the bowl had a bit more, so I dawned my warm weather gear, including my puffy snowpants (moreso because I carried them up versus them actually being necessary). By the time we were in the middle of the crater I was sweating. Fortunately, the summit edge was windy and cooled me down to a perfect temperature.
The view to the north was still pretty hazy, but the view everywhere else was perfect. We could even see down to the mountain road cutting a sharp switchback on it’s way to Sunshine/Paradise parking lots. We could see rivers and mountains to the south such as Hood, Helens and Jefferson.
An hour after our summit (we made it up in almost exactly 6 hours), the second rope team made it to the bowl as well. We were waiting for them at the register and climbed back up to the summit to meet them and all share summit hugs and photos.
Right by the register there was a hot steam emitting from the bowl. Apparently it’s always there; people in desperate trouble have stayed warm during the night in it before (although they do become quite wet).
We spent another half hour or so in the summit bowl hanging out and decided to head down. Todd was pretty beat at this point, throughout our trip he had suffered almost every sort of altitude syndrome effect (not at the same time, but had waves of different feelings of unpleasantness). We had him lead the two rope teams on the way down, to keep our pace at his level and in case anything more drastic happened.
It was pretty slow going down but it was gorgeous weather so it wasn’t hard to handle a longer view. At one point we found a fellow sitting on the side of the trail (actually, he had been sitting on a snow bridge!!!!! But the first rope team kindly informed him of the hazards and recommended he move to the side of the trail). He had unroped about half an hour from the summit; he was being cautious and wanted to make sure he had enough energy to make it down, so he was just going to wait for his friends instead of making the final push.
The crevasse crossings were a little scarier on the way down because we knew the sun had warmed the snow and we could now see what we were crossing. At one crevasse hop Ken and Mark took photos of Matt and I jumping across. I claimed I wasn’t going to show this one to my mom, but I have included it below.
When we got to Muir it was a scurry to pack everything up and get headed down. We still had much left to do—such as change Matt’s antifreeze pipe and I knew I was coming back to a flat tire as well. Fortunately, Mark used to be a mechanic and promised to have Matt’s jeep fixed in a jiffy. Team Saffron really is lucky!
The way down was fun, Ron was able to ski-slide down the hill with his poles, while some of us just attempted the ski-slide in a less graceful mannor, while others attempted some glissading. With so much junk hanging off my pack and such wet snow I wasn’t really in the mood to glissade since my skiing seemed to be faster anyways. Todd was overjoyed by the glissades and we were all happy to have boosted spirits.
Once we were off the glacier we met up with Charlie. He had done a dayhike to the start of the glacier and then waited for us with fresh watermelon that he had been cooling in a glacial stream. How perfect!! We took a quick rest break and relived some quick details of our experience on the mountain and then started on the mission home.
The paved trail on the way home was perhaps the most miserable part of the journey. Our feet were already killing and were a little bit damp, and each pavement step felt so hard. We wished we were on snow again, even if it would mean slightly slower movement.
Once at the cars, Mark fixed the hose in no time flat and we were soon discussing how to get to the land of milkshakes. Sadly, the talked up milkshake shop (really a restaurant that just happens to serve them) was swamped. Since they usually have slow service we knew better than to wait.
We thought about some other options and came to the conclusion that we would eat at the restraurant in a train (name ?) instead. To my joy they also served milkshakes, and with home-aid ice cream!! I got a delicious cheesecake milkshake while most the team got burgers and fries (some with milkshakes as well). We wanted to make sure we weren’t going to be calorie deficient.
It was a fast dinner, for everybody had significant others to get home to (or mucho homework!) and we were soon on the road again. When we got to the parking lot we found my car with its flat tire. This was easily remedied with the help of Charlie, Ron, and Matt. The hardest part was a tie between finding the jack (under the drivers seat) and getting off the hubcap (you just put a screwdriver under and pull, but that plastic seemed so wimpy it was disconcerting to do this).
Welcome home to a shower and bed! I had climbed Rainier within a year of moving to Seattle, my goal before I had any idea what may be involved in doing such.
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