The weather was warm and sunny, not the ideal for hiking up to 9,000 feet with fully loaded backpacks. But we did it, and we took our time. We had a great pace-setter in front who was not afraid to stop for breaks. I think this really helped us make it all the way. So, we started from 5,600 feet at the parking lot and hiked a whopping 3,400 with our backpacks up to lunch counter, a high rocky plateau about 3,000 feet short of the summit. It was extremely challenging, but we all made and were relieved to get those packs off of our backs.
We then set up camp: two tents, five people (you do the math), filtered water straight from a snow field melt-off stream, got some dinner in our bellies and crashed for a few hours of sleep. You see, our alarms were going off at 3:45 AM so that we could start our climb at 5 AM. Jack made sure and to ask, a few times, why we needed to start so early, and he got a satisfying response. The higher up you get before the sun softens the snow too much and starts beating down on your face, the more pleasant the climb. And boy was it true!
So after a short night, with the wind howling, and our bodies smashed in the tent like sardines, we rolled out of bed, put on our headlamps and prepared for the uphill trek. Breakfast didn't sound good, but that's what our friends warned us about since we were at 9,000 feet. High altitudes suppress the appetite I guess, at least during the adjustment period. They also suppress your oxygen intake, as we quickly found out. Anyway, we stuffed some oatmeal and hot cocoa down our mouths and strapped on our daypacks.
At 5:37 AM we started off. The pace was slow and steady. Our special breathing technique was in slowly through the nose and out with pursed lips. This provided a bit of back-pressure on our lungs and increased oxygen absorption, which is very important when hiking uphill for hours. We took one look at the white "Staircase to Heaven" (as Jack termed it) and started marching. I have never looked at so many boot prints in the snow before. Of course, looking down was the best thing to do since the snow was still fairly hard and there was a steep slant downward on either side of the steps.
One hour, two, three and we were nearing the "false summit". And that is just what it sounds like, a snowy plateau and what looks like the top. You only see the "true summit" when you reach the "false" one. We reached the 11,000 foot "false summit" around 9 AM. This was making good time! At this rate we could be at the top in a few hours and back down with plenty of time to get home before it got too late. However, the sun hadn't completely broken through the clouds yet and the snow was still too hard to glisade down (sliding on your butt on the snow, at a high rate of speed). That meant we would have to walk, which would not only be difficult but take lots more time. It was time for a prayer. We needed the sun to break through, the clouds to clear, and continued safety and strength.
Ask and you will receive, Jesus said. The clouds did break and the sun did shine through, but we had to start across the saddle first. Once we arrived at the last white staircase, we were being warmed by the sun and the snow was beginning to soften. We could even see the summit! It was almost within reach. When I say we, I mean Jack and I and my dad's two friends. My dad decided to hang at the "false summit" because we only had 2 ice axes for 3 people. He really made a sacrifice so that Jack and I could summit and for this we thanked him sincerely.
Finally our last push for the summit, a few more steps and we were there. Our slow steady pace really paid off because we were actually passing people on the staircase up. Our strength was great as long as our breathing stayed steady. Alas, we crested the last slope and Mt. Rainier said hello. The view was amazing! We could see Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Hood, Mt. Jefferson, Mt. Rainier and everything in between. The sky was blue, the sun was bright, we had great big smiles on our faces and people were celebrating!
We hung out at the summit for about 20 minutes, all we could take with the strong winds. Many photos were taken and the video camera was running the whole time. It felt so great to be on top, to have met the challenge. Our descent was looking better and better with the softer snow. Maybe we could glisade after all.
So we began the downhill trek, careful and controlled, and tried to encourage the uphill traffic with the reward ahead. As we came to the saddle, we could see the clouds whipping past creating beautiful shadows on the snow. Then Jack noticed a cloud bank approaching and commented, "I hope that goes over us." His hopes were not realized, because as we arrived at the false summit, we were surrounded by clouds. It was like standing around in milk; you couldn't see up or down. We decided we had better prepare for a downhill hike, got our snow clothes ready and started the descent.
About 5 minutes later, the cloud bank broke free of the mountain and we could see! Glisading at last! We all dropped to our bottoms and gave a push to start the slide. First the snow wake, then the butt numbing, finally the bumps and ice-chunks in our path. You may be asking how this is fun, but you'll just have to see the video to appreciate it, or do it yourself!
In just over an hour we had arrived back at lunch counter, our camping site. We were wet, numb, wind-burned and exhausted, but grinning from ear to ear! We had the wonderful task ahead of us of packing up camp, strapping back on those heavy backpacks and hiking out of this place. We took our time, but worked steadily to get ready for the rest of our descent.
By about 2:45 PM we started our hike. It was fun the glisade a bit more on the remaining two snowfields, but a jolt of reality as soon as we were back on solid ground. The hike was long, painful, tiring, burdensome, hot and long (did I say that already?). It was a small price to pay for the wondering climbing experience. We made it out, with jello legs and screaming feet. It felt so good to take off the boots and put on some flip flops, and to remove the backpacks and just have a seat in a cushy, air-conditioned truck. We were finally homeward bound. We had done it!
Before: Jack, Nikki, Howard, Julie and Mitch
Jack pushes up a steep section of trail with the rolling hills behind him.
The last snowfield before lunch counter, our stopping point for day one.
Campsites were marked by rock walls and sandy bottoms.Ours didn't look quite so nice as these.
Day two, EARLY! The peaks behind us is the "false summit".
We weren't the only climbers.There were 200 permits issued the day we climbed.
Did I mentioned the white staircase?
Dad pushes upward and onward!
Jack captures some video footage at the "false summit".Mt. Hood is just over his right shoulder.
Saddle, staircase, slope, summit.Check out the clouds.
We're only smiling because we can see the top!
Mt. Rainier was peeking over the crest of the hill. Beautiful!
Our summit partners: Julie and Mitch.
The clouds moved in just as we finished our last glisading run.Can you see the tracks?
Jack demonstrates proper glisading technique(which he learned from barefoot water skiing).
Jack found a great resting rock...
it was made to be sat in!
2 comments:
Wow - this is a fabulous commentary on your climb! Thanks for adding all the little details...makes for an interesting read! I'm so glad you guys made it safely - I can only imagine how tired you would be afterward. Hope you're getting rested up!
Thanks Nikki for sharing this. I t made me feel as though I was there too. Mom
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