Moraine next to the Blue Glacier. Photo by Dale Severude.
The approach to this mighty and feared peak (all peaks being mighty and feared, y'know) is lovely and demure. But longer'n a gol-durned barbed wire fence on a Texas ranch, by gum. But let's take this journey a step at a time.
I left Friday after work and hit heavy traffic, then a looonnggg wait for the ferry to Kingston. This put me way behind the rest of the gang, who had left 12 hours earlier. By the time I got to the trailhead, it was 10pm and time for a good nap. So I got up early, downed a large bottle of ketchup and headlamped up the trail, missing all the wonderful rainforest in the dark. 45 minutes later it was light enough to see the enormous trees along this route. At one spot, I heard numerous cracking of branches in the forest, and then hooved animals bounded off in fright. I guess I should use better deodorant or wear a bag over my head.
By 7:15 I reached the Olympic Guard Station where the gang was camped. But they were nowhere to be found. Hoping they were not too far ahead, I continued up the trail. So far the trail is nearly flat, having risen only 500' in 9 miles -- the flattest, longest trail I've hiked. At 8:30 AM I caught the group as they slogged uphill. Good thing, because I didn't have much left. We somehow stumbled our way to Glacier Meadows, where we were mercilessly attacked by billions of flies. This is the farthest I've hiked before noon, or before lunch, and I was hungry and not nearly as energetic as those dumb flies (easy to swat). The flies went to bed at night, fortunately. Our feet hurt from the 20 miles. We decided to rename the peak to "Oh, limp us!"
After checking out the climbing route from the moraine that afternoon, we retired early. At 3 am we started up the moraine trail, then descended to the aptly named Blue Glacier. Our route went alongside the edge of the glacier to where the blue stops and the white starts. In the early light we could see without headlamps, but didn't notice the glacier was actually a slushy swamp that even gaters can't tolerate. Water was flowing everywhere. Yuck. But after 15 minutes of crossing water-filled crevasses we were on solid ice and snow. The route up to the Snow Dome has some crevasses, but none were a problem. The route through Crystal Pass is still "open" with plenty of crevasses to negotiate. After the class 4 climb to the top we were treated to some great views. Too bad the ocean was covered in fog. But I could see Mt Fuji to the west and Mont Blanc to the east. The register box is from the Mazamas dated 1939.
One double-rope rappel got us off the summit block. We crossed the Blue quite a bit lower, to avoid the slush. However, this flat portion of the glacier has lots of flowing water. It felt like crossing a broken-ice frozen lake, although the ice was very solid. Nan fell through one crevasse up to her armpits, but we managed to pull her out as she wriggled herself over the lip. Luckily it wasn't one of the water-filled cracks. She pulled a leg muscle but gamely kept walking to our camp.
We packed up our gear and painfully walked our sore and tired feet back to Olympic Guard Station. Here, the mosquito problem was manageable. After well-needed overnight rest we walked back out the last flat 9.1 miles. On my way out I saw a deer and fawn at camp. This time I really enjoyed the rain forest splendor. There is one particularly spectacular set of huge cedars, grouped close together. It was a welcome sight to see lots of dayhikers with video cameras, meaning we were close to the end. Oh, my feet! But what a trip.
