DMt Rainier (alias the Big Cahoona)

For 10 years I had dreamed of climbing Rainier with my boys. I had only to wait as they grew into men. They were both so strong, but time and circumstances precluded an earlier attempt. We’ve had so much fun canoeing climbing – so many adventures and then Jared left for war. Jordon and I began working up to it 1^st climbing Mt Olympus, then Buckner and Finally last year Shasta. This year had to be the time. Jordon would be heading off to the mission fields at the end of this year and Jared did not want to do the climb. This is a tough time for Mom and Dads and I suppose climbing Rainier was in a way a metaphor for the climax of a whole era in our lives. It would be enormously hard, some real danger and a bit scary, fun and exhilarating. Soon, things will never be the same.

In April we had climbed Mt Baker. It was a winter style assent with a foot of new snow to contend with and gave us a real workout before getting turned back short of the top. We climbed Mailbox and Rattlesnake Ledge and Tiger Mt a few times in between to try and stay in some semblance of shape. Jordon was so busy and his back in injured condition so he only climbed Mailbox. He always pulls through in the end and I was confident, he’d make the climb. Tow other men who had trained for the climb, Aaron & Erik could not make the window because of family commitments, but Seth Nielsen from the North Bend Ward was able to just make it, completing his finals the night before we left.

Jordon and I left Thursday afternoon and met Ryon Sanders at the little town of Enumclaw. He had traveled from Portland for the chance at the peak. We were really fortunate to have chosen to send part of the team up the night before, because we found the ranger still open at white river and willing to sign the team up for a slot on the mountain. She said there would be a lot of disappointed climbers in the morning with the slots all filled up. We used up just about every last dollar we collectively had to pay the fee and so back to Enumclaw we went to get enough for camping that night. We found a great spot at a nearby campground called the Dalles. With Ryon and Jordon, we had another chance to learn and practice crevasse rescue techniques while enjoying the warm crackle of an evening fire. It was such a pleasant way to spend the night before the big climb.

By 7:30am we met Seth and Chris at the White River ranger station and got the latest mountain scoop from the rangers. A rescue was underway on the mountain, which left a cool pall of soberness to our start. From the campground parking lot we broke out our gear, weighed in and paired duplicate gear and distributed team gear to those with the most capacity. This put us all pared down nicely to 45-55 lbs. We headed out a bit after 9 with about 3.5 miles of trail to climb before reaching snow. That part seemed to go quickly. The sun was clear but not overbearing and a large and swift glacier fed creek accompanied us. Gorgeous cascading waterfalls broke up the monotony and refreshed us briefly for our passing with cool fine mist.

As for me, I felt just a tad bit slower than my younger teammates, who from my perspective had great wells of strength to draw from. I chose my paths carefully and banked my calories, one her and anther there. We hiked up steep glacier moraine ridges and even passed a few teams at Glacier basin. The trail there turned solidly to snow as we emerged from the trees onto the inter-glacier. This great expanse of steep rolling snow would be our home for the next 6-7 hours. We donned our crampons and followed another team out onto the glacier. I was in the lead at this point and after a while determined that they were just the blind leading the blind and off to a harder route at that and so angled back to the right a bit where I found a better boot track to follow. Sometimes there were great track and other timed the mountain had swallowed up the tracks giving us a harder time of it. Sometimes it seemed as though there was precious little progress made, but we knew one step at a time, a steady pace would get us to the top. About ¾ of the way up on a very steep section Ryon became ill. I took the rope off of him to lighten the load, but Jordon offered to carry it instead. I was pretty maxed, so I was grateful for the offer. I gave him my walking sticks and Seth gave me his. By this bit of weight and pole jockeying, the whole team was able to move on again – one tough step at a time. This part was quite mind numbing and the hours ground on. At last we reached a thank God section where we could see the massive Steamboat Prow. Camp Sherman was near. We had to traverse and exposed field onto the Emmons Glacier. The slanting traverse had a sheer drop off and the trail was a thin so we roped up. Crevasses on the Emmons were visible but were easily avoided and after climbing another very long couple a hundred feet we happily met the Camp Sherman Ranger and rested our weary frames.

Camp Sherman has a cabin for the ranger and composting toilets, but my system was so screwed up with this enormous exertion that none of my plumbing would cooperate. This was not a bit after 6pm and the cool evening air at 9,400 ft chilled the moisture in our fancy polypropylene clothing. I was real happy to get into that tent and change into dry clothes. We melted snow and filtered and boiled for the evening “fine” cuisine. I don’t know why I keep buying that store bought stuff. It’s just barely palatable as far as I’m concerned, but we managed to down our portions. It was nearly dark at 8:30 when we finally hit the hay. By mutual agreement, we decided to get up at 1AM, 2 hours earlier than plan, due to the very soft snow conditions. This meant very little sleep. I stuffed my ears to try and avid being wakened by wind and other teams – It worked a little.

By midnight I was being roused by all the activity. Some folks left way earlier than needed, but everyone make his own bed in the mountains. We got up at 1AM and Jordon cooked up some water for a quick oatmeal breakfast. It seemed to take a while to get to eat and to get everyone situated. I divided the rope again into 5 parts and everyone chose a slot. I led the 1^st leg. At fist even the gentle slope up to the “flats” seemed to be a trial to my stubborn legs who cried to be returned to the warmth and sloth of a sleeping bag. We pressed on in the direction of sets of lights strung out upwards on the glacier – some several thousand feet above beckoned – you can do it! There was no few boot tracks to follow – more like a herd of elk making a large swath up this section called the corridor. This meant plenty of options, but no well trod path to track in and conserve precious energy thereby. I did my best, but I found it very difficult to find a sustainable pace that would not be interminably slow for my companions. I knew to avoid the “dash & gasp” scheme, but strangely it was not my lungs that complained so much as my legs. They just got tired and cried out frequently for short 30 second rests. The effect though, I’m sure’ was about the same to those below me. To their credit, Jordon and my other friends patiently followed my halty jerky pace and only occasionally - and then kindly, suggested I keep trying to find a slower, steady pace. On and on, the steps so small, the pace so slow, only the certainty of math remained to convince that progress must be being made. Though our pace seemed to be but a crawl, we did have one other measure, which buoyed the confidence. We passed another team on the corridor and were gaining a second team.

As we passed beyond the corridor – nearly halfway now, the sun began to peek over the horizon. For hours, we had been able to see the faint redness in the distant sky. At this altitude, it seems to mark its own ascension hours before its real arrival. I welcomed it heartily as it soon took a few degrees of bite out of the air. We stopped for a couple of minute’s breather to enjoy the sunrise. I think it was about that time that someone suggested we should rotate lead. Ryon was our anchorman in the rear and so we rotated the whole rope team placing him in the lead. I’d say he did an excellent job. I had to request a slightly slower pace a couple of times, but he seemed to be able to find it and hold it nicely. We crossed a few snow bridges over crevasses and pressed steadily upwards using a fast rest step. (more fast than rest!) Nearing the last 500 feet, where we would start the corkscrew accent to the crater, we caught up with a third team led by a guide. They were slowly climbing a bergshrund with impressive crevasses nearby.

I was happy to have a chance to rest behind them. Rather than turn sharply to the right into the corkscrew assent to the top, the route angled only slightly to the right and nearly straight towards the top. The wind began to pick up the snow gave way to a thin crust over water ice. We traversed a section of this, which reached upwards but sloped off to the right emptying into a crevasse or shrund. Not too sure, but it gave me the willies to think that given the angle and the lousy bite of our crampons, self or team arrest, if someone lost their footing, was a rather iffy!

At this point I put away my walking poles and pulled out my ice axe. Three of the others had been using ice axe all along. We watched the team in front of us and carefully, forcefully placed each and every footstep on the exposed traverse. This was repeated on 3 more 50-yard sections until at last and wondrously so we crested the rim. I had no idea there was even a crater at the top, but there it was a huge supper bowl like depression at the top. The inside wall – the bleachers, were curiously free of snow with very little wind. As I sat down on a rock slab, I was astounded that they were warm to the touch! It was probably about 15F, but the rocks were definitely warm and made for a wonderful relaxing lounge chair. Steam vents made their own clouds inside the crater and occasionally swirled and mixed with bits of cloud being manufactured by the rather fires wind buffeting the top outer rim. We ate, drank and basked in the tranquil moment.

I was a bit too subdued in exhaustion to claim any serious exuberation, but all the rest of the team was still raring to go claim that last 20 feet or so of altitude making up the tippy top on the rim. I was not so excited, but after refueling, removed my crampons and followed up the rocky ridge. There were strange pressure frost formations that looked like little 4” anemones made out of pure ice and blankets of cauliflower inspired frost nuggets all over the top of the rim. The wind picked up in earnest and made speaking a chore. I tried to take a picture and my hand froze in seconds from exposure. I could not even get my fingers to survive long enough to take a single picture, but Seth seemed to have tougher hide and got a few shots.

We got to the top a bit after 10 and all together we probably spent an hour enjoying the time. If you could stand to be on the rim long, Baker, Adams, the Sound were nicely visible. When we had had enough, we regrouped and voted on the decent route. I thought the ice route was real lousy, but so many had successfully negotiated this very direct route that the majority felt they could do it with enough margin. One of the guides was rehearsing with his charges the importance of planting hard flatfooted and avoiding the front points on the decent. We too passed this sound advice amongst our ranks.

Ryon again led, but at 1^st way too fast for my taste on the ice, but he quickly adjusted to my very slow decent pace. On the decent, it was not fatigue, but the bone jarring punishment to my knees that limited my gate. Without incident we left the ice and for a time moved down the mountain. Our lead is so tall, compared to my stature, that he had a hard time finding a pace I could take, so once again I took the lead setting a 5’7 47year old pace down the mountain. What a great team – no one complained. It wasn’t really slow, but I’m sure well slower than my crew of young bucks would have taken. I love to slide and did so on one section leading to a crevasse. We met the ranger about there and he said the only recommended safe glissade was the corridor and the inter-glacier – so we trudged on.

Ironically when we got to the Corridor, the afternoon sun had so soften the snow that, it wasn’t really great for the glissade and would ball up under my crampons causing me to trip and tumble a lot. I must have looked like a drunken sailor walking a pitching ship. At last we were with in a few hundred yards of the camp and practically at the flats. I felt bad for falling so much and so I let the crew unrope. That was an error made very plain to me as I punched through a crevasse a minute later – fortunately only one leg! A wiser Steve warned off the rest of the crew and within a few minutes we were all back in camp – me bringing up the rear with a pair of very weary knees.

It was about 3PM now and we needed to hustle to leave, so we boiled/filtered water, ate some fast oatmeal and broke down the camp. We followed another team out past the steam boat onto the Emmons and there spotted a group of climbers making their way up to Sherman. One had a Siemens Hat on. That had to be the team led by Chuck Dulken, our SW department. The fella with the Siemens hat turned out to be our VP Hans Betz. They seemed to be in pretty good spirits & shape. We shared pleasantries for a few moments and then passed on. Ours was the only team un-roped on this section and we used the other teams footpath as our security. The path over Steamboat prow that on the way up was thin and slanted toward an abyss, was now a well beaten path. Three of our group passed easily over the section followed after by Jordon and myself. Dropping over the saddle onto the inter-glacier, I found a few butt paths and jumped onto one thinking to catch up with our party a few hundred yards down. Boy did I; the snow was so perfect, I fairly flew down , it was just firm enough, just soft enough not to hurt. I was whoopin it up.

Erik, Seth and Jordon caught the vision and blasted down the steep face ahead of me. It was so unbelievable how fast we were descending what had been so mind and body numbing just a day before Chris Sanders pants were just a bit too sticky, but I had a spare garbage bag that he used to make a glissade diaper. With that he joined the rest of us whooping and squealing in delight as we careened down essentially a 3000 foot water slide. Several times I flew out of the channel and got so buried that I could barely move 1 hand with which I used to unbuckle my pack and worm my way out. The journey up was just that - a lot of up; hard, tough, step after step – dogged determination. Fun was not part of the equation, but on the way down this was more fun than anything I can ever remember. The only down side was that it only took a few short minutes to blast down this incredible distance.

We walked and scooted down every little hill thereafter until at last we were back at glacier basin. As we stopped for a few minutes as set retrieved his light hiking shoes from the woods, another mountaineer overtook us. Heh, I knew him. I greeted him. (Steve Martin from work) He too had to take a double take as neither of us had any idea that the other had chosen this weekend for our respective journeys. Steve was my mentor for this trip and was just descending from a significantly more dangerous route – the Liberty Ridge.

It was probably my significant fatigue and the hammering my toes and knees had taken, but the last 3 miles on that trail seemed interminable, but Jordon, Steve Martin and I who were a bit behind the others did enjoy some great mountain talk. Getting to the ranger station afforded us a real bathroom and our travel clothes felt sooo good. We all prayed our thanksgiving and then enjoyed some really good Mexican food to celebrate our success. What a fine team. I’ll miss my mountain buddy. He is almost all grown now and as of this writing has accepted a call in September to the Lima Peru mission. We as all so excited.