Mt. Rainier - Day 3
This is a long post, but day 3 was a long day… There are photos towards the end.
“It’s 12:30, gentlemen!” That was our wakeup call. Too bad I was already awake. The wind had blown continuously all night, sometimes shaking our tent so hard I thought God Himself was trying to get our attention.
Between the wind and noisy neighbours (didn’t they have an alpine start, too?!) I don’t think I got more than 10 minutes of sleep at a stretch. I felt awful. I had a headache and felt even less motivated than the previous evening. My tent companions felt the same way and we considered calling it quits and going back to sleep.
However, my tentmates got up and one turned on a headlamp. I thought a bit more about how I’d feel if we gave up now and decided to get up and speak with the guides. I was mainly concerned that my (our) exhaustion would pose a safety issue. So, we went over to the other tent and had a discussion about the day. The guides assured us that everyone feels crappy for an alpine start — especially with so little time to acclimateto the altitude. They asked me to think about how I handle lack of sleep which made me realize that I’m a new father and I handle it quite well, thank you very much!
Re-energized, we started breakfast (including coffee!), got dressed, and I took some advil for my head. After breakfast, we got our technical gear together and put on harnesses, helmets, and crampons. A couple of us had trouble with equipment or had to make an extra trip to the outhouse and the start dragged on.
It was cold, but not too bad and I was comfortable outside the tent, so I rested and waited. The coffee and advil had both done their job and I was feeling pretty good. The other climbing teams had mostly departed and they formed a beautiful train of lights slowly inching their way across and out of the bowl in front of us. The Milky Way was also very bright in the midnight sky and I just lied on the snow enjoying the view.
Finally, around 3 am, we were ready to go. We roped up into two teams of three and, ice axes in hand, slowly headed onto the glacier. For safety, we keep about 15 feet apart so the climb around the edge of the bowl was lonely and spiritual. Occasionally a gust of wind threatened to blow me over or blind me with flying ice crystals and I would stop for a moment. Otherwise, it was a slow slog for maybe an hour.
At that point, we had to go up. We crossed onto mixed rock and snow (careful with the spikey feet) and we climbed for what seemed a very long time. Occasionally we’d get pelted by sand and rocks from climbers above us. My legs were burning and I hoping for a rest when we finally crested the hill and came upon a sea of fluffy clouds highlighted by a thin strip of orange at the horizon. This was the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. There was no time to take a picture, though.
We had a short rest, stripped off some clothing, adjusted equipment and resumed our trek. The sun illuminated Mt. Tahoma, a pointy peak to our right and green-blue glacier ice ahead of us. I’m not sure how long we walked but, after another rest, we crossed a crevasse and a field littered with ice boulders and came to Disappointment Clever. A clever is a rocky outcropping that splits (cleves) the mountains glacier. We would gain about 1000 feet climbing it.
We skirted around the bottom of the clever and I looked at the fall to my right. The word “exposure” took on its full meaning for me and I stepped carefully. Just before the climb started, our guide had us run (as fast as one could run at 11,000 feet). I hadn’t seen it, but he saw a head-sized rock fall in front of us. It was dislodged by climbers above us. We took a rest and started the climb.
As we went up another mix of snow and rock, I could only boggle at what we were doing. This hill was *steep* and I joked out loud that I didn’t think we’d had enough preparation. The crampons did their magic, though and we headed up steadily. For these climbs off of the glacier, we had shortened the rope to make it easier to stop a fall. As the last man on our rope, I occasionally got tugged as I tried to catch up when passing over some slower terrain. It got annoying, but would only improve as we worked out our rythm.
I thought our first, pre-dawn climb was bad. This climb seemed to take three times as long and the end-point was always out of sight. On the way up we passed a 3-man team that had passed us at the bottom. They were bundling one of their teammates in a sleeping bag. Apparently he was feeling the altitude and couldn’t go on, so the other two were going to leave him on the rocks and continue the climb. Another team was heading down and said they got off the trail, hit a bunch of crevasses, and didn’t make the summit. Their disappointment was palatable.
We made the top at 12,200′ and took a well deserved rest. We got out some food and ate what felt like lunch, but it was only 8am! Not far from us was another limp body peering at us from his sleeping bag. Another victim of the altitude. He had a radio and was keeping tabs on his buddies up ahead. I have to say he had a pretty good sense of humor, considering.
At this point, we had to consider our next move especially because three of the four of us felt terrible with either a headache, lack of appetite, or both. Surprisingly, I felt great. Better than at Camp Muir, in fact. I was eager to continue the climb but we decided to turn back. In hindsight, that was the right decision. So, I took the first of the few photos I’d get that day (my camera wasn’t readily accessible for the technical climbing) and we eventually roped back up for the descent.
As we had climbed the clever, the question of how we’d get down kept nagging me. Well, I got to find out first hand, as I was the first in line and our guides brought up the rear to easier control any falls. In addition to the slope, we also got to battle the now melting snow that would stick to our crampons and prevent them from doing their magic. I learned how to take a step while tapping the crampons with the ice axe to dislodge the snow. The descent, while a little scary, was actually fun (I thought so even at the time).
We felt pressured to make good time down the hill because climbers were returning and could start knocking rocks onto us if they caught up. We got down the steep part, but could not let up as we returned around the clever’s bottom. Once we made it through the ice-strewn debris field we could take it easy. We took a rest a short time later. As we sat and talked, the air filled with a roar and I spun around to see an avalanche cover the trail we had just crossed. That’ll wake you up in the morning.
We decended the rest of the way with one incident (an unfortunate ice axe-to-the-nose) and the climb down the steep wall of the bowl wasn’t nearly as bad as it seemed in the darkness. We walked back into camp around noon. An hour later, we were packed up and ready to go back to the cars. At this point, I was feeling fatigued and worse at 10,000′ than 12,000′ and was glad we had turned around when we did.
Back on the snow field (were we there just yesterday?) we passed people coming up. They looked just wrecked for the most part — exactly as I remember feeling. Down was much easier, although it took a surprisingly long time to get off the snow. We would slide down on our bums at the steeper sections. That was a blast.
Once we got off the snow, the hike immediately grew less fun. Walking in the plastic mountaineering boots is fine in snow, but painful as all hell on feet and shins on downhills and it only got worse as we reached the paved trails. We meandered through the medows, following signs back to Paradise that seemed contradictory and I don’t think we took the most direct route.
We reached the parking lot around 5:00. A short five hours later, we arrived back in Vancouver. That is what I call a long day.
By the end, no one was disappointed that we did not summit that day. I like to think that this experience has changed me. Certain things do not seem as challenging as they once did, yet I also remain humbled by Mt. Rainier.
October 19th, 2005 at 4:35 pm
I am very glad you finished telling about your trip. I wish I could have seen the sites you did, but am glad I didn’t do any of the other stuff you mention.