Mountains. Gear. Food.

So I promised that there were stories to follow my Mt. Rainier trip and I guess I've been putting off writing the whole story, so here it is. Let me start at the very beginning, when it didn't even know what it was.

It all started last November, I was at the Liberty Mountain Outlet store in Sandy Utah with Jon Rickords helping him select a rope and some other climbing gear. After looking at a number of ropes Jon asked, could I use this rope on Mt. Rainier? I said I don't really know, what's Mt. Rainier like (I had heard of the mountain before and new that it was a national park, but didn't really know anything else about it, crazy huh). He went on to tell me about how it had the largest glaciers in the lower 48, and that to summit it, it took full on mountaineering skills. At some point that evening we got the idea that maybe we should climb it (yeah I'm not really sure how that happened). Either that night or the next day I texted my friend Michael Didier about it, and he said, "heck yeah! lets do it." He said Tyler Mahoney I'm sure would love to do it, and probably his dad too. I think it took a little time after that for it to really set in that we were going to do it, but this was the point where the idea started, and this is when we started the research. We honestly knew nothing about it prior to this point.

I believe it was around Christmas, maybe a little bit before that Michael invited his friend Max Dillman to join us on the trip. I was a little concerned about us inviting just anyone on this trip, I wanted the perfect team. Michael assured me that Max was an experienced trad climber with a lot of climbing skills under his belt including vertical rope rescue, and was also an EMT. He also mentioned that Max was the type of guy that would read everything there was to know about mountaineering and Mt. Rainier before going on the trip. He couldn't have been more right. Without Max this trip would have never happened.

After a ton of research over Christmas break, we started training. Our first trip was an attempt to hike part of Mt. Timpanogas in mid-January. Michael, Tyler, Max, and I made the attempt. We had a blast, but only made it about 2 miles in 9 hours. The main problem was that I was post-holing with snowshoes almost the whole way. This was my first true backcountry experience, outfitted with an avalanche beacon and my snowboard, and it sure was awesome.

First training hike. Mt. Timpanogas

I started working out every weekday morning with my friend Sam, in order to get in shape for the trip. I knew a few weekend hikes wouldn't be enough.

With school and work I wasn't getting out to do long hikes nearly as much as I thought I should, but I did get the occasional hike in. In late January Michael, Tyler, Max, Bruce (Tyler's dad) and I hiked the north face of Mt. Olympus, and in February Max and I did on overnighter on the Pfeifferhorn.

Max sloggin back into camp on the Pheifferhorn

All of these trips not only helped physically prepare me for Mt. Rainier, but they also gave me an opportunity to see what gear I needed and what I could do without.

March through mid-April school and work really picked up and sadly the training scaled back, and honestly my desire to climb Mt. Rainier started to wane. I had many conversations with different members of the team, seeking individual's feelings about the trip--whether they thought we were ready, whether they thought it was even possible for a group on inexperienced mountaineers to summit Mt. Rainier in early May. Despite my wavering, and other member's concerns, no one was about to throw in the towel and give up, and I sure as heck wasn't going to be the first one to do it either. Through it all Max was always stoked for the trip, never once did he even consider backing down. His determination to make Rainier a reality definitely helped carry us through.

The last two weeks before the trip were full of last minute gear preparation and training hikes. I hiked the Y in Provo a handful of times, which is actually a really solid training hike, and we made sure to squeeze in some crevasse rescue training before we left.

Crevasse rescue training day

Final training hike. Hiking the Y with a weighted pack.

Finally the day came to leave for Mt. Rainier. It was Sunday May 4th. I packed everything the night before, and got up early to double check everything. I picked up Tyler and we drove up to Bruce's house in Salt Lake to meet up with Michael, Max and Bruce (Jon was already in Washington with his family, planning on meeting up with us on Monday).

Car finally packed, and ready to go!

The drive went pretty well, except that we discovered a leak in one of our tires. Luckily it was slow enough that we were able to just fill it up and get it fixed Monday morning. I also forgot to mention that Sunday evening Jon texted me and said that he wouldn't be joining us. He was a little unsure about the weather, and about whether he was ready. I appreciated his honesty and desire to not hold the group back.

On the drive. The Pacific Northwest...beautiful country.

We planned on being at the trailhead by 11am, instead we were there at 4pm. Between waiting for people to still pack, waiting for the tire to get fixed, and trying to get into Rainier National Park with its many road closures, it took much longer than expected, but let's be honest doesn't it always take longer than expected. I don't think any of us were really surprised.

We got our climbing permits and our blue waste bags (in case we had to do any "business" on the mountain) and started the hike. Pretty much off the bat there was fog and a light snow. We started following some ski skin tracks as we assumed they were leading up to Camp Muir (the high camp) which was our lofty goal for the afternoon/evening. We were told it was only about 5 hours to Camp Muir, so we figured that worse case situation we'd just get into Camp super late. Around 7pm the skin tracks ended and turned around (I guess someone was just skiing up to take a backcountry lap). We pulled out the GPS and tried to see how far we were off the trail, but due to the thick fog still felt pretty lost. The GPS told us to go in one direction, but it just didn't seem quite right. Around 7:30pm the fog was even thicker, the snow and wind were picking up, and it was starting to get dark. We decided the best thing we could do was get up on a ridge (so we were out of avalanche danger) and dig in deep to make a camp (so we were out of the wind). Within an hour or so we had a great camp set on the ridge and had started cooking dinner.

Final packing at the trailhead

The great thing about climbing Mt. Rainier is that even when you feel a little bit lost, or even when you have to make an unexpected bivy for the night, you're prepared because you've got a pack full of food, shelter, warm clothes, and an awesome sleeping bag. The main uncertainty in the camp that night was if the weather would improve enough for us to make it up to Camp Muir the next morning.

Digging in and making camp the first night

When we awoke the next morning it was perfectly clear. There were a few clouds in the distance, but not many. We could easily see the visitors center from our ridge, and we really hadn't gone far, maybe a mile at the most. It was a little sad and pathetic, yet humorous at the same time. We packed up and were on our way by about 9am.

We hiked for what seemed an eternity. This was by far the hardest part of the whole trip. I'm told that later in the season the hike to Camp Muir isn't too bad, but this early in the season it was awful. My pack felt like it had to be at least 50 pounds, but who really knows. Imagine snowshoeing, with a 50 pound pack for another 3.5 miles while gaining a mile in elevation just over that distance. Almost every step I would lock out my back leg and rest for half of a second (the mountaineers rest step) setting a pace that would let me slowly but surely get to my destination. Never have I had my legs hurt so much, but we kept pushing on. If the physical challenge wasn't enough, the mental game was just as hard. With none of us having ever been to Mt. Rainier before we didn't really know how far Camp Muir was going to be. Whenever we thought we might be close, we weren't. That feeling of having no idea when things are going to end really wears on you mentally.

Start of the second day, before I started feeling like garbage (Mt. Rainier summit in the background)

Around 3:30pm we finally pulled into Camp Muir. We made our way over to the mountaineers hut, which was completely empty, and took off our packs. We had all run out of water about an hour before getting there so the first thing we did was start melting snow. Over the next couple hours we finally started to recharge, rehydrating and refueling. Even though all I had eaten that day was two or three clif bars and some shot bloks I didn't really feel like I could stomach a full dehydrated backpacking meal. I'm not sure if it was the elevation or just how exhausted I was, but I decided to just stick with a couple packets of oatmeal. An hour later two somewhat new mountaineers from Texas showed up, and an hour after that a large group of mountain guides that were coming up to train and prep for the upcoming guiding season which was to start the following week.

We took some time discussing what route we'd be taking the next morning, talking over what things we needed to be aware of, and ultimately what our plan of attack was for the summit the next morning. Earlier in the day we had met a guide coming down from Camp Muir. He told us how he had made a summit attempt that morning but had been crevassed out (surrounded by crevasses with no safe way to move forward) at about 12500 feet. I had my doubts about whether it was even possible to summit after hearing from that guide, but I knew we needed to at least make the attempt. We had a good discussion with this old timer guide named Craig (yeah I know, same name, super cool haha, I felt pretty proud when he said, Craig that's a great name for a mountaineer). He was in his 35th year of guiding there and he said that though he hadn't been to the summit yet this season, that most take the Ingraham Direct route this early in the year (which was what we were planning).

Amusing read on the outhouse door. Glad my mom never knew this before the trip haha

We got to bed around 8:30pm with the plan of waking up at 5am (a little late for an alpine start, but we were told this early in the year we would want light and wouldn't have it till at least 5:30am). I slept pretty well that night except for one thing, about 2 or 3 in the morning every one of the guides started waking up and peeing in bottles (I guess that's what everyone does so they don't have to go out into the cold). The whole thing is kinda nasty to have to listen to in the middle of the night, but the worst part is hearing it and not having one for yourself haha.

Wednesday May 7th. We woke up at 4:30am and started sorting out our climbing gear, and putting on crampons (we had packed our backpacks the night before). If you were ever wondering, it takes much longer to get ready in a shack or a tent for a summit run, than it does at your house, like forever. We were finally moving at 6am, and let me tell you, the view was breathtaking (well it was that or the hiking at altitude, one of the two). About 5 minutes into the start of the hike, Max stopped us. We were all roped up together into one big rope team, with Max on lead. Max brought us all together and said, "So I've been feeling sick since last night, but I thought it might go away once we started hiking, but unfortunately it hasn't, I might be able to make it up to that ridge, but by then I'd be pewking my guts out. I'm just going to hold you guys back, so I'm going to stay behind." I was definitely nervous leaving Max behind because I knew that not only did he have the most skill when it came to crevasse rescue, but he also knew the most about the mountain. He asked us if we all still remembered our crevasse rescue skills, which everyone, with little confidence, assured him we did.

Alpine Start--5:30am

The view on the summit hike was incredible. For years I had seen pictures in magazines and online of mountaineers up above the clouds, I had always dreamt of going someplace where I could experience that, and now I was finally realizing that dream. If there was one thing that made all of the work worth it, it was the view. We would be hiking and turn to each other and say, can you believe we're up here, can you believe that we made it this far, can you believe how high we are, can you believe the view, it was just so surreal.

Above the clouds with the alpenglow

Within the next hour or so we made it to the top of this gap in the ridge called Cathedral Gap. When we got to the top of the ridge we decided to take a short break. Mainly because Michael really needed to go to the bathroom. Here we are around 11,000 feet on this amazing ridge, with the most incredible view, and there is Michael with his pants down, in the wind, leaning against a rock, relieving his bowels into a blue plastic bag. Seriously one of the funniest things ever. Tyler, Bruce and I all had a good laugh, and in the words of Michael, "that's the coldest crap I've ever taken in my life."

Top of Cathedral Gap

We continued on, now getting into the more dangerous, crevasse filled area of the Ingraham Glacier. We saw two routes in the snow, one looked as though it was the route from the mountain guide the day before and the other was from our two Texas mountaineer friends that had left a half hour before us. We quickly caught up to them, and they told us to turn around because they hadn't been able to find a clear route past the crevasses. Somewhat disappointed we decided to cut across the glacier to where the other trail was cut. Michael was on lead and about halfway across what looked like a clear crossing he sank into the snow up to his chest. He said, "the snow is really deep right here, wait no I'm in a crevasse." Luckily his backpack was large enough that it was keeping him from falling down all the way into the crevasse, and he was able to quickly crawl forward out of danger. After it all went down he said, "I thought it was just deep snow, but then I saw snow falling out from under me and falling for as far as I could see." It was definitely a close call, and we were definitely blessed and lucky that nothing worse happened in that moment.

We turned back to our original trail and went back to where the two trails split, and took the mountain guide's trail this time around. We began climbing a pretty steep face towards the center right of the Ingraham Glacier, making a switchback trail and kicking steps into the snow as we climbed. At about 12500 feet we came to a giant crevasse that was right in our path. There we found mountaineer wands (thin bamboo sticks placed by mountaineers to mark their path) that were crossed marking it as a spot that should not be crossed. We traversed up along the crevasse looking for a solid snow bridge, but only found more crevasses and more wands marking unsafe areas. After a short conversation and assessment of the situation we decided that it was no longer safe to continue forward and that we would have to turn back.

End of the line

We had given it our best, and had there been an open path I'm confident we would have reached the summit. As disappointing as it was to not reach the summit, I was happy that we had given it our all, and that we had made the right decisions, keeping us out of serious trouble, and honestly I was happy that we had made it as far as we had. Five inexperienced mountaineers make it up to 12500 feet on Mt. Rainier, before the normal summer season even starts, and not only that, they did it safely, now that's nothing to be ashamed of. The trip was a total success in my book.

We got back down the face of the Ingraham glacier without a problem and saw a group of eight guides going up a similar path to the same location we had stopped. For the next hour or so as we rested we watched them wander around the glacier looking for a clear path to the top, but as we continued on down to Camp Muir they still hadn't found a way. That assured us that we had made the right decision to turn back. When eight experienced mountain guides make the same decision as you, you know you've made the right call.

See the little black specks about two thirds of the way up the face, those are the guides, that's where we all got stuck

We made it down to Camp Muir and packed the rest of our gear up that we had left in the mountaineers hut, and then we booked it back to our car. We made it down in a little over 2 hours (Mike skied down and made it in like 15 minutes). It's amazing how fast you can move when you know you've got a good meal and a hot shower waiting for you once you get down.

As soon as we got down we repacked the car and cruised out of town looking for the nearest place that we could buy a steak. Just as we were about to turn south towards Portland (our destination for the night) I saw a bar that had a sign out front that said Wednesday Night Special: Steak $10.99. We were pretty skeptical but decided to give it a try. Holy crap! They had some of the biggest, most delicious steaks that I've had in my entire life, and I'm not just saying that because I had just come down from Mt. Rainier, but of course I'm sure that helped. It was a perfect ending to a perfect trip that I never would have dreamed of happening at this time in my life.