Mt. Rainier Summit Climb
Last month I posted a story about my "practice climb" to Camp Muir on Mt. Rainier. I promised an update after my Summit Climb. I've been pretty busy since the climb and so this is the first chance I've had to write this up. The climb was July 15, 16, and 17, with the first day being for the "climbing School." July 16 was the climb to Camp Muir, and the evening of the 16th thru the following day was the climb from Camp Muir to the Summit and back down, all the way to Camp Muir and back to Paradise.
Climbing School:
This was the most difficult thing I've ever done, and the most exhilarating! It was also quite dangerous. If I had known what I was getting myself into I might not have done it. And my Wife certainly wouldn't have let me do it if she'd known what it was going to be like. The climb from Paradise (5400 ft.) to the half way point, Camp Muir (10,080 ft.) that I had done a couple of weeks earlier with a guy from work was again pretty hard work, but not very dangerous. But the second half was pretty scary in parts. For the climb to Camp Muir the conditions were pretty much the same as before, great weather, and phenomenal views. But I was glad that I took lots of photos the previous time because on an organized climb, they don't let you stop and take photos any time you like. We pretty much could only take photos when we stopped for a breaks, (about once an hour).
We started out at about 8:30 AM, took the bus up to Paradise to start the climb and got going by about 10 AM.
Off we Go:
Taking a break:
We got up to Camp Muir at about 3:30 PM. The guides gave us a talk about the rest of the climb, we had something to eat. Then we were supposed to get some sleep. That was impossible. There were about 25 people in the "bunkhouse." It was really just a big box with "shelves" for us to sleep on. Between the adrenaline rush, the noise in the bunkhouse, the daylight coming in the windows, people crinkling bags of food, getting up to fill water bottles, and then of course getting up to relieve themselves, it was impossible to sleep. Then they "woke us up" at about 11:30 PM. We had something to eat, and got kitted up. We were all issued an Avalanche Beacon so they could "find us" if we got buried, but the lead guide told us that if we actually got buried in an avalanche there was pretty much no chance of digging us out, and the only reason we had to wear these was for insurance purposes.
We put on our harnesses (to rope up with) and headed outside at about 1 AM. It was pitch black, freezing cold, and there was a 20-30 mile an hour wind blowing. We roped up and set out into the darkness. You could only just see the person in front of you, about 20 ft of rope away, and it was hard to keep your footing in the wind. It was like that for the next few hours.
Pretty cold up there:
At the first break, 2 people gave up and were left there in a small tent until the next morning, when we picked them up on the way back. One of these was a 52 year old guy. Another (53 year old guy) gave up half way up to Camp Muir. The rest of the 27 people in our expedition were all relatively young people (20 something's). The exception being two Women (47 and 48 years old) who made it to the top. So I was quite pleased with myself for being the oldest (55) to make it to the top.
Up to Camp Muir we were split into three groups of 9, with three guides to a group (not roped). Then for the summit climb the three groups of 9 were further split into three groups of 3 with a guide for each group, 4 to a rope. The first 3-4 hours were in the dark (lamps on our helmet), and so it wasn't too apparent how scary some parts were. But just as dawn was approaching there was a particular part that was quite scary as we negotiated our way over a pretty narrow ledge around a really big crevasse (more on that later). Some of the more scary moments were due to the high winds, which I thought at times were going to blow me right off the mountain (and remember this is in the dark).
Then there was a tricky part when we were on a rocky ledge, no snow, and it was difficult to walk with crampons on. I must have caught one of my crampons on a rock and it came off! I yelled ahead to the guide to stop but he yelled back that it was too dangerous to stop and I should just ignore it! I had to walk several hundred feet along a narrow rocky ledge with my crampon tied around my ankle and dragging behind me. With each step I had to be careful not to step on it with the trailing foot. We eventually reached a wider part of the ledge where I was able to reattach the crampon.
We reached the summit at about 7 AM. A bit of an anticlimax given that it's the inside of a volcano rim, and so the only view you get is the inside of the rim.
The summit:
I was totally spent! I didn't know how I'd find the energy to climb down again. But after about an hour's rest we set off on the decent.
In many ways this was scarier because now it was daylight and you could see what you just climbed up! The views were beyond description. Some of the best views were while we were climbing, and unfortunately you can't stop and take photos while you're climbing, the guides won't let you, and for good reason, when you're all roped together and you're on the edge of a precipice you can't exactly stop and fumble for your camera. So the only time we could take photos was during the rest stops, but even these were some pretty spectacular views.
Above the clouds:
Now to the bit where I could have been killed!
The part on the way up were we had to climb past the "big Crevasse," on the way down was even more scary. This thing was the most spectacular sight I have ever seen in my life, and I likely will never see anything like it again. National Geographic, or the Discovery Channel doesn't come close! This was a Gigantic Crevasse, with nooks and crannies, hundreds of feet deep! Like some enormous ice sculpture from another world! We had to walk on a narrow ledge, cut out of the snow, maybe 12 inches wide, above and around this ravine that dropped hundreds of feet below us. We were roped 4 to a rope (including one guide). The guide hammered a steak into the upper part of the ice face at intervals and when each of us reached the steak we had to unclip our caribiner in front of us and clip it back on to the rope behind us, for the next climber to do the same when he reached the driven-in steak. I unclipped mine (at which point you are totally vulnerable to falling) and, wait for it.....
I successfully clipped it in behind me - phew!
Then I took a step and my crampon on my rear boot snagged the crampon on the my front boot and I tripped!!!! Right above this drop of hundreds of feet into the most spectacular looking ice ravine I've ever seen. I don't know if it was the training they gave us, or just gut instinct, but I rammed my ice axe into the upper side of the ice face and arrested my fall. We were roped together, so in theory if I'd fallen the rest of them would have saved me - ya think? More likely, I think I would have take them all in with me!
One of the "smaller" Crevasses:
Compared to that, the rest of the decent was "easy." When we got back to camp Muir at about noon the following day I thought wow I'm glad that's over. But we still had the decent from Camp Muir to Paradise to do. After about an hour we set out on that. I was pretty exhausted by then, and I found it a lot tougher than the previous time, 2 weeks earlier. I found it really hard to keep my footing and many times I slipped and fell, and ended up "glissading" hundreds of feet at a time. For the uninitiated in climbing terms, that means sliding down the glacier on my ass because I couldn't stop myself. :-)
Surprisingly, I wasn't as tired as I thought I'd be when I got down (adrenaline rush?). I drove and hour and half home and stayed awake until 5 minutes from home when I nodded off and crossed the lanes on the highway. Imagine that, surviving what I'd been through and then nearly killing myself on the road. :-)
The next day I woke up at 6 AM and caught a flight to New York for a scheduled business trip, followed by a week's vacation. It's been pretty much business as usual since then, although I've been popping Advil like it's going out of style because my knees are killing me. I expect they'll be like that for a while.