Mt. Rainier
Adjusting his headlamp, and pointing deep into the inky darkness, Garrett turns to us with great seriousness, “this would be a good time to step deliberately.” With that he takes two steps into the void, and becomes little more than a bobbing point of light slowly climbing into the sky. Since we are all roped together, we have little choice but to follow. Illuminated only by headlamp, and the cacophony of stars blazing above, we each in turn step into the blackness, grimly wondering what lay ahead.
Every city has at least one icon. Paris has the Tower, Tokyo has Fuji, Sydney has the Opera, and Seattle has Rainier. Dominating the horizon on clear days, Mount Rainier stands as a lone sentinel overseeing all of Puget Sound. Rising to 14,410’ just 100 miles from the beaches of Seattle, Rainier has become a part of the fabric of Seattle life, providing comfort, joy, excitement, and mystery to the Pacific Northwest. For some, it also provides immense challenge.
Lynn and her brother, Rick, grew up in Seattle, and like most Seattleites, Rainier’s presence was simply a part of their young lives. At every turn the mountain watched over them, embedding itself in their soul. Something has brewed inside ever since, for throughout her life, Lynn has toyed with the idea of climbing “her mountain.” Unfortunately, climbing Rainier is not a simple task.
“Chunk.” Our crampons grab and bite at the steeply angled glacial ice. Since we left our tents at Camp Protection at midnight, we have been steadily climbing. With our headlamps illuminating little more than our coming step, we have thus far climbed without fear or incident. Now with the admonishment to be careful, the tension has ratcheted up a notch. Step after step, we silently wade through the unknown, occasionally stepping over holes in the ice, or boulders strewn about. Abruptly, the ice ends and we are climbing through a talus field. The pace has quickened, and we all notice. Crampons and ice axes ring out into the night as they strike the hard volcanic rock. Soon, the rock gives way to ice once again, and the pace slows. Garrett’s radio crackles to life, “the Bowling Alley is clear.” Suddenly feeling very much like a bowling pin, I realize what we have just done. Garrett turns to us and smiles, “well, that was a good warm-up.”
Mount Rainier is the most heavily glaciated peak in the lower 48. For centuries, its massive glaciers have carved the peak’s volcanic mass into a never-ending series of cliffs, ridges, crevasses, couloirs, and moraines. It rises more than a mile higher than the surrounding mountain ranges, and it is famous for creating its own weather patterns. Any climb up this mountain requires planning.
As we tossed around the idea of this climb last Christmas, Rick eagerly expressed interest in joining. Although Lynn and I have summited peaks higher than Rainier, because of the glacier travel required, this climb requires skills we never practiced. Accordingly, we made the right decision and scheduled the climb through Rainier Mountaineering, Inc., home to many of the most accomplished guides on the mountain.
For serious mountaineers, Rainier is a training ground. Many of the world’s best have climbed Rainier multiple times, developing skills that would later serve them in Alaska, the Andes, or the Himalayas. While the standard Disappointment Cleaver Route we took would be a walk in the park to serious climbers, it is part of a progression in a lifetime of mountaineering education. For relatively new climbers like us, it is an introduction into the world of big mountains, and it is poised to teach us a lesson.
With one glance over his shoulder, Garrett steps off the trail worn into the ice. A team of independent climbers is plodding upwards, creating a bottleneck. Wanting no part of the chaos, we downshift on the uneven glacial ice, crampons digging for extra traction, and surge up the 45-degree slope. As the sun peaks over the horizon, the world around us is immersed in alpenglow. Huge crevasses and ice caves slowly come into focus, and giant cleavers of ice, forced upward by thousands of tons of pressure, stand guard on all sides. The beauty of the moment is immense.
The first day of an RMI Summit Climb is spent with a senior RMI guide practicing the skills needed for basic glacial travel, including rope team movement, crampon use, and ice ax arrest. Day Two is a mellow climb from Paradise at 5,400’ to camp somewhere near 10,000’. Day Three is summit day. If all goes as planned, Day Three begins before midnight, gets you to the 14,410’ summit by 7am, and ends late in the afternoon back in Paradise.
Our climb to Camp Protection had been uneventful. A long walk up a well-developed trail led to the crossing of a small creek. From there, a long climb up the Muir Snowfield ends at Camp. Other climbers, with and without guides, were making similar treks to similar camps. Although most of the guided climbers were wearing plastic mountaineering boots for the climb up the snowfield, we were surprised to see one of the guides start climbing the snowfield in flip-flops. Turns out he was Jess Roskelley, the youngest American to climb Mount Everest.
Pausing occasionally for rest, fuel, and water, we climb steadily in Garrett’s wake toward the summit. With natural light bathing us for the first time, our route reveals itself slowly. A furious mish-mash of tumbled ice hangs in the air above us, while deep glacial trenches wait below to swallow any misstep. Weaving between seracs, the trail continues to climb steeply, until we suddenly crest a ridge and look down into a wide, flat field. Garrett, and his fellow guide Mark, turn and smile in unison, “congratulations!” We had reached the crater rim. Smiling, we drop our packs, cross the crater floor, and climb jubilantly to the high point in the State of Washington.
The summit is only the halfway point of any successful climb, so there is always some motivation to head back down immediately. However, the weather is perfect, so we squander a few moments for exploration. The volcanic summit of Rainier contains numerous steam vents. In places the ground is hot to the touch, and steam literally pours from vents scattered along the western rim of the crater. On the eastern edge, steam has carved a number of mysterious caves from the glacial ice, creating surreal rooms of light and heat. The power of nature is astounding. After an hour on the roof of Washington, we finally turn back.
Our 9,000 vertical foot climb down to Paradise is incredible. Doubling back over the route we had taken in the dark, we see for the first time the true nature of Disappointment Cleaver and the Bowling Alley, as well as the poetically named Cadaver Gap and Gibraltar Rock. Cliffs thousands of feet high drop straight out of the sky, while crevasses hundreds of feet deep show their watery depths. Other Northwest volcanoes dominate the horizon, including Adams, Hood, and the cinder-washed cone of Mt. St. Helens. Wildflowers swish at our feet, and glacial streams gurgle past the trail as we roll back into Paradise. Exhausted and happy, we look back up at the summit nearly two miles overhead, and realize we will fondly remember these three days forever.
Check out our photos.
Rick’s trip report and photos can be found here.
Special thanks to our guides Garrett Madison and Mark DeSmet for an amazing experience. Accomplished climbers and guides, and genuinely good people, we would recommend Garrett and Mark to anyone. Look for Garrett on TV this fall in the 400+ mile Subaru PrimalQuest Adventure Race.
See RMI for more info on Rainier.
Every city has at least one icon. Paris has the Tower, Tokyo has Fuji, Sydney has the Opera, and Seattle has Rainier. Dominating the horizon on clear days, Mount Rainier stands as a lone sentinel overseeing all of Puget Sound. Rising to 14,410’ just 100 miles from the beaches of Seattle, Rainier has become a part of the fabric of Seattle life, providing comfort, joy, excitement, and mystery to the Pacific Northwest. For some, it also provides immense challenge.
Lynn and her brother, Rick, grew up in Seattle, and like most Seattleites, Rainier’s presence was simply a part of their young lives. At every turn the mountain watched over them, embedding itself in their soul. Something has brewed inside ever since, for throughout her life, Lynn has toyed with the idea of climbing “her mountain.” Unfortunately, climbing Rainier is not a simple task.
“Chunk.” Our crampons grab and bite at the steeply angled glacial ice. Since we left our tents at Camp Protection at midnight, we have been steadily climbing. With our headlamps illuminating little more than our coming step, we have thus far climbed without fear or incident. Now with the admonishment to be careful, the tension has ratcheted up a notch. Step after step, we silently wade through the unknown, occasionally stepping over holes in the ice, or boulders strewn about. Abruptly, the ice ends and we are climbing through a talus field. The pace has quickened, and we all notice. Crampons and ice axes ring out into the night as they strike the hard volcanic rock. Soon, the rock gives way to ice once again, and the pace slows. Garrett’s radio crackles to life, “the Bowling Alley is clear.” Suddenly feeling very much like a bowling pin, I realize what we have just done. Garrett turns to us and smiles, “well, that was a good warm-up.”
Mount Rainier is the most heavily glaciated peak in the lower 48. For centuries, its massive glaciers have carved the peak’s volcanic mass into a never-ending series of cliffs, ridges, crevasses, couloirs, and moraines. It rises more than a mile higher than the surrounding mountain ranges, and it is famous for creating its own weather patterns. Any climb up this mountain requires planning.
As we tossed around the idea of this climb last Christmas, Rick eagerly expressed interest in joining. Although Lynn and I have summited peaks higher than Rainier, because of the glacier travel required, this climb requires skills we never practiced. Accordingly, we made the right decision and scheduled the climb through Rainier Mountaineering, Inc., home to many of the most accomplished guides on the mountain.
For serious mountaineers, Rainier is a training ground. Many of the world’s best have climbed Rainier multiple times, developing skills that would later serve them in Alaska, the Andes, or the Himalayas. While the standard Disappointment Cleaver Route we took would be a walk in the park to serious climbers, it is part of a progression in a lifetime of mountaineering education. For relatively new climbers like us, it is an introduction into the world of big mountains, and it is poised to teach us a lesson.
With one glance over his shoulder, Garrett steps off the trail worn into the ice. A team of independent climbers is plodding upwards, creating a bottleneck. Wanting no part of the chaos, we downshift on the uneven glacial ice, crampons digging for extra traction, and surge up the 45-degree slope. As the sun peaks over the horizon, the world around us is immersed in alpenglow. Huge crevasses and ice caves slowly come into focus, and giant cleavers of ice, forced upward by thousands of tons of pressure, stand guard on all sides. The beauty of the moment is immense.
The first day of an RMI Summit Climb is spent with a senior RMI guide practicing the skills needed for basic glacial travel, including rope team movement, crampon use, and ice ax arrest. Day Two is a mellow climb from Paradise at 5,400’ to camp somewhere near 10,000’. Day Three is summit day. If all goes as planned, Day Three begins before midnight, gets you to the 14,410’ summit by 7am, and ends late in the afternoon back in Paradise.
Our climb to Camp Protection had been uneventful. A long walk up a well-developed trail led to the crossing of a small creek. From there, a long climb up the Muir Snowfield ends at Camp. Other climbers, with and without guides, were making similar treks to similar camps. Although most of the guided climbers were wearing plastic mountaineering boots for the climb up the snowfield, we were surprised to see one of the guides start climbing the snowfield in flip-flops. Turns out he was Jess Roskelley, the youngest American to climb Mount Everest.
Pausing occasionally for rest, fuel, and water, we climb steadily in Garrett’s wake toward the summit. With natural light bathing us for the first time, our route reveals itself slowly. A furious mish-mash of tumbled ice hangs in the air above us, while deep glacial trenches wait below to swallow any misstep. Weaving between seracs, the trail continues to climb steeply, until we suddenly crest a ridge and look down into a wide, flat field. Garrett, and his fellow guide Mark, turn and smile in unison, “congratulations!” We had reached the crater rim. Smiling, we drop our packs, cross the crater floor, and climb jubilantly to the high point in the State of Washington.
The summit is only the halfway point of any successful climb, so there is always some motivation to head back down immediately. However, the weather is perfect, so we squander a few moments for exploration. The volcanic summit of Rainier contains numerous steam vents. In places the ground is hot to the touch, and steam literally pours from vents scattered along the western rim of the crater. On the eastern edge, steam has carved a number of mysterious caves from the glacial ice, creating surreal rooms of light and heat. The power of nature is astounding. After an hour on the roof of Washington, we finally turn back.
Our 9,000 vertical foot climb down to Paradise is incredible. Doubling back over the route we had taken in the dark, we see for the first time the true nature of Disappointment Cleaver and the Bowling Alley, as well as the poetically named Cadaver Gap and Gibraltar Rock. Cliffs thousands of feet high drop straight out of the sky, while crevasses hundreds of feet deep show their watery depths. Other Northwest volcanoes dominate the horizon, including Adams, Hood, and the cinder-washed cone of Mt. St. Helens. Wildflowers swish at our feet, and glacial streams gurgle past the trail as we roll back into Paradise. Exhausted and happy, we look back up at the summit nearly two miles overhead, and realize we will fondly remember these three days forever.
Check out our photos.
Rick’s trip report and photos can be found here.
Special thanks to our guides Garrett Madison and Mark DeSmet for an amazing experience. Accomplished climbers and guides, and genuinely good people, we would recommend Garrett and Mark to anyone. Look for Garrett on TV this fall in the 400+ mile Subaru PrimalQuest Adventure Race.
See RMI for more info on Rainier.
posted by Scott and Lynn at 6:05 PM
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