Melting snow at Camp Schurman, in front of the climbing ranger's hut. No, you can't stay inside! Photo by Bob Acord
Although I'd climbed Rainier in 1989, I wanted to do it again with some folks from our Basic Climbing class. Knowing that I could make it, if conditions were good, gave me a relaxed attitude. I also had a goal of climbing the 5 "big" Washington volcanos in one year.
A little background for those not familiar with it: Mt. Rainier is one of the 5 highest peaks in the lower 48 states, at 14,410'. It is an arctic island in a temperate climate. In fact, there are 35 square miles of glaciers ("rivers" of ice hundred of feet thick), as much area as the rest of the lower 48's glaciers combined. At the top, it is 35 degrees colder than sea level, and the winds often howl. The mountain makes its own weather, due to it's tremendous size. It's base-to-peak height is over 10,000' (two miles!).
More background info (hope this ain't boring anyone): The packs are much heavier for climbing than for backpacking. In addition to all the backpack (camping) gear, we carry lots of clothing and climbing equipment.Clothing includes windproof and rainproof gear (GoreTex being in vogue), non-cotton long underwear (polypropylene), 2-3 pairs of socks, wool shirt, polyester pile pants and jackets, down coats, very warm hats that also cover part of the face, helmet, glacier glasses (very dark with sideshields), very warm mittens or gloves, lots of sunscreen and lip balm frequently applied (I still manage to get sunburned!), and heavy mountaineering boots. My boots are plastic, with an warm inner boot. They do NOT flex and are very uncomfortable except on snow.
Climbing equipment for glacier travel includes a seat harness, chest harness, rope, carabiners, rescue pulley, prussik slings, tubular webbing slings, belay device (figure 8), snow anchors such as snow pickets, ice axe, crampons, and flagged wands. Also an altimeter, map, compass, first aid kit, extra food, extra clothing, knife, stove/pan/fuel.
All water must be melted from the snow. Two ways are available: heat with a stove, which takes a suprising amount of time, and stuffing your water bottle with snow as you travel. The second way only works if the temperatures are above freezing.
We got to Glacier Basin (6000') in about 1.5 hours (about 3.5 miles). Luckily, the rain stopped but the clouds were just above the basin's elevation.
We hiked up the Inter Glacier to the 8000' level in a continuous fog, where we put on our harnesses and roped up. The Inter glacier has few crevasses (big cracks in the ice), and many don't rope up for it, but we are a conservative and long-living bunch. You could only see a few hundred feet (not nearly a whiteout condition, fortunately). A few hours later, we had lugged our heavy packs to Camp Schurman at 9400'.
Camp Schurman lies on Steamboat Prow, a rock promintary that splits a big glacier into two (the Emmons and Winthrop glaciers). Both glaciers are highly disturbed by the prow, and are heavily crevassed. Some of the crevasses are 20-30' across and go for hundreds of feet. Others are just small cracks that you can step over. Many crevasses are covered with snow bridges. That's why we rope up! Sometimes, you don't even know when you are crossing them.
Melting snow at Camp Schurman, in front of the climbing ranger's
hut.
No, you can't stay inside!
Photo by Bob Acord
We spent the remainder of the day resting, melting snow, setting up camp in a howling wind, and staying warm in our tents. It took a couple hours to make 3 qts of H2O for each person, and cook dinner. (We later found out the stove was clogged!) To bed early we went, for the wakeup time is 12am. We hoped to be on the climb by 1am, so we could be down early enough in the day to avoid super soft snow bridges that could collapse, or avalanches. My tent team was a bit disorganized, and we were still melting water at 8:15pm, and didn't hit the sleeping bags until 8:45. I could not sleep (wasn't tired enough, and the wind was flapping the tent like crazy) and tossed and turned. I may have gotten an hour's sleep, maybe 1.5 hours.
Wanding the route every 150' rope length, we climbed in the dark under an explosion of stars and the Milky Way. A glow in the night sky gave away a few big cities, and the twinkle of airplane navigation lights in the distance indicated civilization was far away. It was hard to adjust clothing due to exertion and stopping for water/food breaks. We climbed on up, crossing a few crevasses and winding between others. Up the "corridor" we traveled, not seeing any crevasses for a long ways on the Emmons Glacier.
I was still getting over a cold, and had trouble breathing at the 10,500' level. Others in the party were not quite as fit, and started struggling with our very slow pace. Each step is very slow.
Sometimes, a little extra exertion would cause me to breathe rapidly, and I'd almost panic. Can't get enough air! I think my cold was aggravating things, as I'd never had such a problem at only 11,000' before. But for some strange and wonderful reason, things improved and my breathing was ok the rest of the way. Two of us took much of the heavy gear the others had, and our rope team of four was able to continue. The other rope team was gung-ho to summit and were at least an hour ahead of us. So much for teamwork... I think some of them doubted our rope team would be successful. One member of our rope team has been dreaming all his life to summit this mountain, and was doing ok with the lighter load. This inspired me and lifted my spirits.
The sky started glowing in the east. It was cold. My headlamp only shines for 20-40', but we were following the established "trail", or "cow path" in the snow. Every rope lenth, another wand was placed in the snow in case of foggy conditions later on the descent.
We continued and gradually the sun came out. Thankfully so, because my feet were getting very cold. Our pace was so slow that I could not warm up too well. It got ligher, and I turned off my headlamp. Finally the full sun hit us, and we started peeling off clothing. We layer the clothes so this can be done easily.
Winds were calm, and conditions perfect. We wore crampons on our boots (12 point steel spikes) that gripped the icy snow incredibly well. We'd been at it for hours now.
At 13,400' was the most interesting crevasse. A bergshrund seemingly encircled the mountain, and only one spot had a good crossing. It was a crevasse several feet wide, with a corniced area on each side. The gap in the snow was easy to step over, but looked very weak. The crevasse was very deep; you could not see the bottom. A spooky running step, and we were continuing upwards. More rests, more water stops. I somehow let my water bottle fall out of my pack, and it tumbled down the glacier several hundred feet and into a crevasse. It'll be there for thousands of years... Luckily I had two other bottles, but had to borrow one from a fellow climber.
After 9.5 hours, we finally got to the summit crater. We untied the ropes, drop our packs, and some walked to the summit. I was a lot more interested in the crater, so I skipped the summit. Some disappointing teamwork in our party of eight took that fun out of it.
At 14,000' the air is thin. A minor effort like pulling on crampon straps makes you out of breath! Still, the views were tremendous and the weather calm. No need for heavy clothing, as the sun was hot with the reflection off the snow. We poked around the steam vents (yup, this is a volcano after all!) and looked at mountains a hundred miles away, western Washington socked in the clouds, and eastern Washington with patchy clouds.
Steamboat Prow and the route up to the summit.
Photo by Bob Acord.
The downclimb was tiring, but uneventful. We arrived at Camp Schurman at 3:30pm. I was too tired to descend further, after carrying a lot of the others' gear. Some of us gladly stayed there Saturday night. I slept like a log from 9pm until 8am, right through my watch alarm still set for midnight, and all the Sunday climbers in other tents getting ready to climb, and my tentmate unzipping the tent door to go to the outhouse... boy was I tired!!
For some reason, the comraderie was 100% better on Sunday. I'm really glad we spent the extra time. Otherwise, the trip would have left an unimpressive memory. My first climb up Rainier years earlier also had some unpleasant moments among ropemates up high, where the thin air causes nausia and headaches, and people are very tired and irritable. Summit fever... it's a strange thing.
| A long hike out and dinner at the Mountain Inn at Greenwater made for a great ending to a the trip. Would I do Rainier again? It's unlikely... two successful summits have taken the novelty out of it for me. There are far more interesting mountains in the Cascades, less crowded and with better views of other mountains. After all, on top of Rainier, you can't see Rainier! I feel very lucky to have summited both times in nearly perfect weather. And it only took three tries! |
 Back at White River Campground. |
Back at White River Campground.