J.Dub
Active member
(Click here to skip all the blathering on and go straight to the pics.)
"Wow, there it is!" Paul said. "Cool!" I replied. From seats 30B and 30C, the mountain was off in the distance, but it was snow-covered and we had heard that you could see Rainier from the plane, so we were understandably excited. The woman in 30A (window seat) let us ramble on like a couple of schoolgirls for a few minutes before chiming in, "That's not Rainier...that's Adams. Rainier is farther ahead."
Mildly chagrined, we put away our Mt. Rainier map and returned to the time-killers of the in-flight movie, Sudoku- and crossword-puzzles until another mountain, farther away, appeared on the horizon. We were a little more reserved in our enthusiasm as we pointed it out to each other. Correctly so, it turned out, as our seat-mate told us, "That's Mt. Hood."
Of course! We knew that! (not....)
"Rainier will be right next to the plane, and you'll know it when we pass it," she told us. And right she was. About ten minutes later, the massive hulk of Tahoma appeared off the port wing, its base obscured by low clouds. As we passed by, we were able to pick out features that we'd learned about via books, maps and online photos -- Disappointment Cleaver, Gib Rock, Steamboat Prow, the Emmons and Winthrop glaciers, Curtis Ridge, Willis Wall, Liberty Ridge.
My overwhelming impression thus far? It's big!
Rewind to the fall of 2009, when my regular climbing partner Paul and I made the decision to make Rainier our first "big" mountain climb. (Living in New England, big mountains are in short supply here these days.) While we had both tackled peaks in the Adirondacks and Whites in winter and were comfortable with our winter climbing skills, this would be our first time on traveling on glaciated terrain, so we decided it would be prudent to go with a guide service.
After looking at the trips available with several reputable guiding services, we settled on International Mountain Guides -- run by owners Eric Simonson, Phil Ershler and George Dunn -- and sent in our applications and deposits to IMG. Rather than taking the Disappointment Cleaver (DC) "trade route" used by the vast majority of Rainier climbers, or even the second most-popular Emmons Glacier route, we opted for the much-less-traveled Kautz Glacier route, which features several pitches of 50deg ice climbing as its crux. As Paul and I both ice climb, we were actually looking forward to this part of the ascent, as well as the the fact that we would likely encounter many fewer people, as the Kautz route only gets something like 5% of the climber traffic. Our choice of route would come back to play a significant role in our trip.
Like many other folks, I made a New Year's resolution to get into better shape. It was much easier to stick to a workout and diet plan having the big goal of climbing Rainier looming over my head. I planned out a training routine that was a mix of aerobic (running), strength (freeweight circuit) and climbing-specific (long hikes with a heavy pack) activities. The program started out modest and would ramp-up over five months, peaking at the end of May to give myself a couple weeks of tapering before the climb. While I wasn't able to fit as much training as I would have liked in by late April and May, the foundation that I had built earlier in the spring served my well on the mountain, and I felt strong the entire time (as did Paul).
At last, our departure date arrived and, thanks to Paul booking us a 5:00A flight out of Newark , he picked me up at 2:30A. (And here I was, thinking that the alpine starts wouldn't begin until we were actually ON the mountain... <rolleyes>) Other than our excitement at seeing Rainier out the window on our approach, the flight out was uneventful. After landing at SeaTac, we humped our loads through the terminal over to the rental car counter. Along with a medium duffel bag, Paul wisely brought a large rolling suitcase, which made for an easier haul than my two-TNF-duffels-plus-overnight-bag carry. We picked up the rental car and drove down to Ashford, making a pit-stop at an REI en route to pick up a couple last minute items (such as isobutane, which is verboten to bring on the airplane).
The drive south through Seattle's suburban sprawl was interminably long -- it was Friday afternoon, after all, and, unfortunately, low cloud cover meant that we had no views of the mountain. We arrived at IMG world headquarters and checked in with Operations Manager Tye Chapman, who showed us to our tent. (IMG rents platform tents for climbers to stay in pre- and post-climb, which is a great service, IMO.)
Saturday, 6/12 - Crevasse Rescue Class - Day 1 (ground school at IMG)
As part of our trip, Paul and I signed up for a 2-day crevasse rescue class, as this was our first time on glaciated terrain. We had studied various techniques in FoTH and other glacier travel books but figured a hands-on workshop would be time and money well-spent, and we were right. On the first day, the two guides teaching the class -- Andy and Ben -- reviewed knot tying and gave us instruction on ascending the rope using Prussik loops, which is the simplest/easiest way to get yourself out, should you fall into a crevasse (or "going in the hole" in the guides' vernacular). While we could have done without the knot refresher, given that most of the rest of the dozen or so people in the class didn't climb regularly, we could see where it was helpful for them. After lunch, we walked through the basics of setting up pulley systems (2:1, 3:1, 5:1, 6:1 in Z- and C- configurations).
Sunday, 6/13 - Crevasse Rescue Class - Day 2 (fieldwork on Mt. Rainier lower slopes)
The following day, we took the IMG van up to the Paradise trailhead and hiked for about 20 minutes. On the opposite side of the trail from Glacier Vista we pulled up to a 30' or so cornice, which would be our stand-in for a crevasse on which to practice our pulley systems. Before that, however, we spent most of the morning learning about and building snow anchors, primarily in the form of nailed pickets and deadmanned pickets, with a snow bollard thrown in for good measure. (The heavy wet corn snow wasn't really conducive for putting in ice screws.) Paul and I were both amazed at how solid the snow anchors were -- both of us tried repeatedly to make them fail and couldn't, although if the snow conditions were loose, dry powder, things would have been a bit different.
Our practical exam came in the form of roping up as a pair, with a large duffel bag filled with 100lbs of wet snow as the "third rope team member," who had the misfortune of going in the hole . I was at the front of the rope, with Paul in the middle and "Baggie" at the end, perched at the lip of the cornice. Ben told us to turn around (backs to the cornice) and start walking as a team -- we taken all of one step when Andy heaved Baggie into the hole, yanking Paul off his feet. We both got into self-arrest position and were able to hold the fall. I eased up and let Paul hold the entire load while I built an anchor and set up a pully system, and then we hauled Baggie out together. (Fortunately, he wasn't hurt -- just a bit shaken up by his fall.)
"Wow, there it is!" Paul said. "Cool!" I replied. From seats 30B and 30C, the mountain was off in the distance, but it was snow-covered and we had heard that you could see Rainier from the plane, so we were understandably excited. The woman in 30A (window seat) let us ramble on like a couple of schoolgirls for a few minutes before chiming in, "That's not Rainier...that's Adams. Rainier is farther ahead."
Mildly chagrined, we put away our Mt. Rainier map and returned to the time-killers of the in-flight movie, Sudoku- and crossword-puzzles until another mountain, farther away, appeared on the horizon. We were a little more reserved in our enthusiasm as we pointed it out to each other. Correctly so, it turned out, as our seat-mate told us, "That's Mt. Hood."
Of course! We knew that! (not....)
"Rainier will be right next to the plane, and you'll know it when we pass it," she told us. And right she was. About ten minutes later, the massive hulk of Tahoma appeared off the port wing, its base obscured by low clouds. As we passed by, we were able to pick out features that we'd learned about via books, maps and online photos -- Disappointment Cleaver, Gib Rock, Steamboat Prow, the Emmons and Winthrop glaciers, Curtis Ridge, Willis Wall, Liberty Ridge.
My overwhelming impression thus far? It's big!
Rewind to the fall of 2009, when my regular climbing partner Paul and I made the decision to make Rainier our first "big" mountain climb. (Living in New England, big mountains are in short supply here these days.) While we had both tackled peaks in the Adirondacks and Whites in winter and were comfortable with our winter climbing skills, this would be our first time on traveling on glaciated terrain, so we decided it would be prudent to go with a guide service.
After looking at the trips available with several reputable guiding services, we settled on International Mountain Guides -- run by owners Eric Simonson, Phil Ershler and George Dunn -- and sent in our applications and deposits to IMG. Rather than taking the Disappointment Cleaver (DC) "trade route" used by the vast majority of Rainier climbers, or even the second most-popular Emmons Glacier route, we opted for the much-less-traveled Kautz Glacier route, which features several pitches of 50deg ice climbing as its crux. As Paul and I both ice climb, we were actually looking forward to this part of the ascent, as well as the the fact that we would likely encounter many fewer people, as the Kautz route only gets something like 5% of the climber traffic. Our choice of route would come back to play a significant role in our trip.
Like many other folks, I made a New Year's resolution to get into better shape. It was much easier to stick to a workout and diet plan having the big goal of climbing Rainier looming over my head. I planned out a training routine that was a mix of aerobic (running), strength (freeweight circuit) and climbing-specific (long hikes with a heavy pack) activities. The program started out modest and would ramp-up over five months, peaking at the end of May to give myself a couple weeks of tapering before the climb. While I wasn't able to fit as much training as I would have liked in by late April and May, the foundation that I had built earlier in the spring served my well on the mountain, and I felt strong the entire time (as did Paul).
At last, our departure date arrived and, thanks to Paul booking us a 5:00A flight out of Newark , he picked me up at 2:30A. (And here I was, thinking that the alpine starts wouldn't begin until we were actually ON the mountain... <rolleyes>) Other than our excitement at seeing Rainier out the window on our approach, the flight out was uneventful. After landing at SeaTac, we humped our loads through the terminal over to the rental car counter. Along with a medium duffel bag, Paul wisely brought a large rolling suitcase, which made for an easier haul than my two-TNF-duffels-plus-overnight-bag carry. We picked up the rental car and drove down to Ashford, making a pit-stop at an REI en route to pick up a couple last minute items (such as isobutane, which is verboten to bring on the airplane).
The drive south through Seattle's suburban sprawl was interminably long -- it was Friday afternoon, after all, and, unfortunately, low cloud cover meant that we had no views of the mountain. We arrived at IMG world headquarters and checked in with Operations Manager Tye Chapman, who showed us to our tent. (IMG rents platform tents for climbers to stay in pre- and post-climb, which is a great service, IMO.)
Saturday, 6/12 - Crevasse Rescue Class - Day 1 (ground school at IMG)
As part of our trip, Paul and I signed up for a 2-day crevasse rescue class, as this was our first time on glaciated terrain. We had studied various techniques in FoTH and other glacier travel books but figured a hands-on workshop would be time and money well-spent, and we were right. On the first day, the two guides teaching the class -- Andy and Ben -- reviewed knot tying and gave us instruction on ascending the rope using Prussik loops, which is the simplest/easiest way to get yourself out, should you fall into a crevasse (or "going in the hole" in the guides' vernacular). While we could have done without the knot refresher, given that most of the rest of the dozen or so people in the class didn't climb regularly, we could see where it was helpful for them. After lunch, we walked through the basics of setting up pulley systems (2:1, 3:1, 5:1, 6:1 in Z- and C- configurations).
Sunday, 6/13 - Crevasse Rescue Class - Day 2 (fieldwork on Mt. Rainier lower slopes)
The following day, we took the IMG van up to the Paradise trailhead and hiked for about 20 minutes. On the opposite side of the trail from Glacier Vista we pulled up to a 30' or so cornice, which would be our stand-in for a crevasse on which to practice our pulley systems. Before that, however, we spent most of the morning learning about and building snow anchors, primarily in the form of nailed pickets and deadmanned pickets, with a snow bollard thrown in for good measure. (The heavy wet corn snow wasn't really conducive for putting in ice screws.) Paul and I were both amazed at how solid the snow anchors were -- both of us tried repeatedly to make them fail and couldn't, although if the snow conditions were loose, dry powder, things would have been a bit different.
Our practical exam came in the form of roping up as a pair, with a large duffel bag filled with 100lbs of wet snow as the "third rope team member," who had the misfortune of going in the hole . I was at the front of the rope, with Paul in the middle and "Baggie" at the end, perched at the lip of the cornice. Ben told us to turn around (backs to the cornice) and start walking as a team -- we taken all of one step when Andy heaved Baggie into the hole, yanking Paul off his feet. We both got into self-arrest position and were able to hold the fall. I eased up and let Paul hold the entire load while I built an anchor and set up a pully system, and then we hauled Baggie out together. (Fortunately, he wasn't hurt -- just a bit shaken up by his fall.)