Intro to 14ers
Head games, thinning air make
Mount Rainier dizzying climb
By Gary Fallesen
(Writer’s note: In 1996, I was introduced to mountaineering by my friend Kevin Flynn. I had written about his climbs on Denali and Aconcagua for my newspaper, asking the common question: "Why do you climb?" When I became the outdoor writer at the paper, I decided I wanted to find out what climbing was all about. I asked to go on a trip with Kevin and his climbing partners to New York's Adirondack Mountains. They decided instead to go to Mount Rainier and asked me to join them. This is the story I wrote for the Rochester, N.Y., Democrat and Chronicle.)
PARADISE, Wash. — Climbers will tell you that 90 percent of making it up a mountain is mental. ‘‘Your mind climbs a mountain,’’ they say. ‘‘Your body follows.’’
But sometimes the body quits. Sometimes the stomach bottoms out and takes the legs with it. Sometimes the mind hears the body screaming and makes a rational decision.
Your head follows the rest of you back down the mountain.
***
It is Day 4 of a long weekend off on Mount Rainier, a weekend growing longer by the moment. Our party of four is above 12,200 feet, 44 hours removed from the trailhead at 5,200 feet. We are trying to reach the 14,410-foot summit, trying to complete what is considered the longest endurance climb in the lower 48 states. We are doing this for fun.
Aug. 25, 6 a.m. PDT — My journal reads: ‘‘I am in pain . . . each step is anguish. I can’t stand up straight. . . . I’m trying to ‘walk through it,’ something mountain climbers often do. But I’m no mountain climber; I’m more of a mountain stumbler.’’
Meet the first-time climber.
I was a guest of the ‘‘Live-to-tell-the-tale club,’’ a k a Kevin Flynn, 39, the co-owner of a marketing firm; Garry Haltof, 49, a self-employed product designer; and Gary Smith, 33, an adventure guide and college teacher.
Flynn roped the first-time climber. He called this 37-year-old husband and father of two (ages 2 and 6) two months ago and made a sales pitch.
‘‘Will I come back alive?’’ the first-time climber asked.
‘‘Probably,’’ Flynn said.
My wife gave me the go-ahead, as unaware as I was about the danger that lay between base camp at 10,080 feet and the top of the 13th-highest peak in North America (No. 5 in the continental United States).
We trusted Flynn and Smith, two experienced mountaineers who have climbed together on — among others — 20,320-foot McKinley in Alaska and 22,831-foot Aconcagua in Argentina.
July 6 — ‘‘I told Flynn, if he and Smith want a novice along, I’m in. He asked what my wife thought. She is all for it. ‘You have FWA,’ Flynn said, happily. ‘Full Wife Approval.’’’
Rainier, located 87 miles southeast of Seattle, is a glaciated volcanic peak. The mountain’s 25 named glaciers and 50 smaller, unnamed glaciers and ice fields move from one to two feet daily. Great crevasses open. Rock and ice falls. Avalanches occur. Teams use Rainier to prepare for Everest.
‘‘I think it’s a challenging peak,’’ said Smith, who has climbed all over the Western Hemisphere and reached Rainier’s summit twice previously. ‘‘No matter where you climb you have to be ready for the worst.’’
The worst weather. The worst feeling your body may have endured.
Altitude sickness is a problem. It is something that can’t be avoided. The higher you go, the thinner the air.
At 12,000 feet there are roughly 40 percent fewer oxygen molecules per breath. The body must adjust to having less oxygen, no matter how hard you breathe.
‘‘There are no specific factors such as age, sex or physical condition that correlate with susceptibility to altitude sickness,’’ writes Rick Curtis, an expert on acclimatization. ‘‘Some people get it and some people don’t.’’
Each of the veteran climbers in our party has had it. The first-time climber began to experience it on aptly-named Disappointment Cleaver.
‘‘The cleaver, which is the crux of that climb, is a decent amount of danger and quite steep,’’ Flynn said, describing the rise of 1,200 vertical feet over a 50-degree slope consisting of volcanic rock, snow and ice on the Grade II Disappointment Cleaver Route.
It takes about 2½ hours of switchbacking (zig-zagging) to clear the cleaver. By the time we stopped at the top of it, the first-time climber was ‘‘gassed.’’
Aug. 25, 6 a.m. PDT — ‘‘I am feeling the effects of altitude. I try to eat as the sun rises, but my stomach is making overtures to return the food to sender. We head off over the Emmons Glacier and the walk starts to blur.’’
To climb in high altitude (by definition, between 8,000 and 12,000 feet; very high is 12,000 to 18,000 and extremely high is above 18,000) you need a rigorous conditioning program. Distance running for endurance, hill-and stair-climbing to strengthen legs and back.
You also need to set modest goals.
‘‘For most folks to get to base camp would be an accomplishment,’’ Smith said of Rainier’s Camp Muir, which was higher than even Haltof had ever climbed in New Hampshire's Whites (where 6,288-foot Mount Washington is tallest) and New York's Adirondacks (Marcy is 5,344 feet).
The mind toys with you at dizzying heights. You start asking yourself, ‘‘How did I get here?’’ For us, it started with late afternoon flights to Seattle on Aug. 22.
Aug. 22, 9:35 p.m. PDT — ‘‘My three amigos’ flight out of Chicago was delayed three hours by ‘weather.’ Our first setback. Nature already makes a point of reminding us who’s boss. My partners are due to arrive now at 12:24 a.m. PDT. This is becoming a LONG day.’’
It was the first of several. We did not reach Paradise Lodge until 3 a.m. PDT, 6 a.m. back East, on Aug. 23. After three hours sleep, we ate breakfast, packed our climbing gear and started out. It was 11 a.m. PDT.
The ascent from 5,200 to 9,800 feet (about five miles of hiking, the last two over the Muir Snowfield) took seven hours. We carried 60-pound packs. ‘‘It was hot and a real slog,’’ said Smith, who suffered foot cramps.
Aug. 23, 6 p.m. PDT — ‘‘The last 1,000 feet were grueling. There were false ridges. You couldn’t see our objective. . . . You go through waves of emotion, looking only at your boots, the tips of your ski poles and the footprints of the climber in front of you. When you focus on good thoughts — your wife, children, friends, flying home — all is well. But, inevitably, negative thoughts creep in. Pain (first my hips, then my heels, then my lower back), heavy breathing, not going to make it, not going to make it back.’’
We took a day to rest, acclimatize, practice managing rope that would link us, and work on crevasse rescue.
‘‘Accidents are not unheard of and fatalities are not unheard of,’’ said Smith, who watched the bodies of two park rangers airlifted off the mountain in 1995.
‘‘If our time was up,’’ said Flynn, not needing to complete the thought.
‘‘Yeah, it’s dangerous, but you can make it less dangerous.’’
Aug. 24, 1:30 a.m. PDT — ‘‘Up to pee, climbers are heading for the summit. That could be us in 24 hours. I think of the words in Psalm 8: ‘You made me ruler over the works of your hands; you put everything under (my) feet . . .’ I am blessed to have this opportunity.’’
Some refer to reaching the summit as ‘‘bagging’’ or ‘‘conquering’’ the mountain. ‘‘That’s such bull,’’ said Flynn, who has stood atop peaks 90 times, including the summit of Rainier on this ascent.
You don’t conquer a mountain. God willing, you are allowed to co-exist with it. You are permitted to go where few venture, to challenge yourself in a way you may never have before.
About 10,000 climbers make the summit attempt at Rainier each year.
‘‘The camaraderie and being a part of the team is what appeals to me,’’ Flynn said. ‘‘People say, ‘Did you do it? Did you make it?’ Don’t get me wrong, I want to get to the top. But it’s the cherry on top of the sundae. Even if you don’t get to the top, you still had the sundae and that’s pretty cool.’’
Aug. 25, 12 a.m. PDT — ‘‘After 3 ½ hours sleep, we woke up to prepare for our climb in the dark.’’
Ascents begin early to avoid a mountain that comes down under the August sun. We were truly sleepless in Seattle, having had only about 12 hours shut-eye in three nights.
‘‘It’s a big climb,’’ Smith said. ‘‘To ascend 4,000 feet is a big summit day. Most summit days are 2,000 and 3,000 feet.’’
Aug. 25, 1:30 a.m. PDT — ‘‘Crampons on our boots, belt and harnesses around our waists, and (light) packs on our backs, we tie into the rope. Flynn heads out first, I follow, Haltof is next and Smith anchors. We are 40 feet apart. We head out of Muir across the Cowlitz Glacier. It is a slow rise to the Cathedral Rocks. . . . We then cross Ingraham Glacier, stepping over two-and three-foot crevasses, and a snowbridge.’’
The highest death toll in U.S. climbing history occurred on Ingraham Glacier in 1981 when an ice avalanche killed 11 members of a 29-person party.
In the dark, we can’t see into the aqua-blue crevasses all around us. We can’t see the gaping slot under the narrow, six-foot snowbridge. Thankfully, the headlamps on our helmets focus only on the taunt rope, our careful steps, and the ice ax we use for balance and security. We would see the trouble we negotiated later on the way down.
Aug. 25, 4 a.m. PDT — ‘‘That leads us to Disappointment Cleaver, my undoing.’’
‘‘People think, ‘Oh, I can’t do THAT,’ ’’ Smith said about climbing a mountain. ‘‘They can.’’
Sometimes the mountains of the soul tower over places like Rainier. People live in the shadows of those debilitating summits, unable to see the light that is shining above them.
Aug. 25, 9:30 a.m. PDT — ‘‘Finally, at 13,200 feet, Smith groups us and discusses options. He will go down with me if I want and Flynn and Haltof can make a run at the roof. Each tries to boost my spirits by telling me how they have hit the wall before. I feel so lousy it doesn’t really matter.’’
The first-time climber was about a two-hour walk from the top. His mind wanted to stand on the summit with his three friends, with men he trusted and had grown close to through laughter and pain. But the body wouldn’t let him.
He turned around and began an 8,000-foot descent off the mountain. He took part of that mountain with him.
***
Back in Seattle, we are preparing to fly home to loved ones who spent an anxious weekend praying. Muscles we didn’t even know we had are aching from this endurance test.
Aug. 26, 10 a.m. PDT — My journal reads: ‘‘I am now part of the Live-to-tell-the-tale club. ‘M.O.T.,’ says Flynn. ‘Member of the Tribe.’ ’’ |