Mount Rainier Trek - interlude

In my family, it's a time honored tradition to but in while someone else is talking. So here I am with a few editorial comments on the trek from Camp Schurman to 12,000 ft.

We set out from Camp Schurman following the tracks of the teams that had left earlier in the morning, and we took it slow. We had to pick our way through some parts of the terrain. There were snow bridges to cross over crevasses directly above Camp Schurman and higher up there were large crevasses carved into the side of the mountain created by icefalls on the glacier.

We met Abby and Sam at a critical route-finding point where I'd watched an earlier team lose their way among an icefall. After chatting with them about conditions above we followed their tracks and continued up the mountain. Stepping on one of their footprints I punched through a snowbridge and fell to my waist into a narrow crevasse. My pack stopped the fall. I rolled out fairly easily - none the worse for the experience and enjoying a mild shot adrenaline. To be honest though, that's as much falling into crevasses as I ever hope to do.

The way became easier past the icefall and we made camp as described by my dad. The view from our snowledge was mind-blowing. The sun set behind the mountain and backlit the Olympic mountains with pink and purple hues. The lights began to blink on in Puget Sound from Tacoma up past Everett, and to the east I could see out over the Cascade Range to the see the lights in Yakima.

I kept hearing a plane flying around nearby, and I looked all around but didn't see it. The wind was picking up and I was pretty focussed on melting snow into water for the next stage of our climb. After dark, the wind became ferocious. As I lay in my tent, the carbs I'd eaten on arriving at camp all hit my system at once. Starting in my legs, all my muscles started to dance the jitterbug - it's like they were all partying it up on the sugar without inviting me. It was a little freaky to be uncontrollably shaking but I realized as long as my core was still warm I'd probably be OK. The rave subsided after about a half an hour, though as with most rockin' parties, there were lingering revellers for hours.

When Dale arrived, the wind was still howling and none of us had slept. My brother and I had agreed earlier that we wouldn't ask anyone, "are you sure you want to keep going?" We wanted to allow everyone to make their own decisions and not feel pressure one way or another to continue or to stop. As I saw my dad and Fred begin to pack up for a summit attempt, I looked at my brother. He looked at me. We at the old guys. They were going to go for it. I was impressed. I thought: Either those guys have some serious cohones, or they're hypoxic. Then I figured it was probably both and I started to focus the climb ahead.

On reflection, I'm glad we started up while it was dark. The first couple hundred feet were fine, but then we encountered some serious crevasses - a huge gash in the mountain with enormous blocks of ice fallen into them - crossed by a narrow ice bridge. I focussed on the tracks from Dale's team and keeping my eyes within the narrow spot of light from my headlamp I followed their trail through the ice fall. A few hours later in the daylight as we were passing back through it, I almost couldn't pry my eyes from that hole in the mountain. Had it been light on the way up, I might not have had the focus to cross.

I'm glad we stopped at 12,000 ft. Up until that elevation, I felt solid. But as the sun came up I was just starting to feel it - that point where it's time to dip into the deep reserves - where raw gut and determination were going to have to take over. I could do it, but I was at the lead of a rope with three others attached. And we still had to get back down the mountain. There was a lenticular forming over the summit, and it was a deep gray in color. That's a sign of high wind and weather. It was a good decision to turn around then. The energy we would have spent continuing upward was better held in reserve for the trip back down the mountain. We still had a very long day ahead of us.