CLIMBING TO THE SUMMIT OF MT RAINIER
by Duane Weaver

For our Father's Day event in 1988, we decided that we would go to Camp Muir at 10,188 feet.  Muir is on the most popular route to the summit of Rainier.  We would stay overnight and return to our car the next day.  I decided that I would be physically ready.  During the three months leading up to our trip, I ran through our local park or rode my stationary bike daily.  As time progressed prior to the trip we discussed the possibility of going on to the summit if I felt strong enough after arriving at Muir.

We were accompanied by one of Doug's climbing friends, Scott Prueter, and his stepson.  We left after work on Friday evening and slept overnight in a campground part way up the mountain.  On Saturday morning we drove to the parking lot at Paradise Lodge (5,400 ft).  We pulled our gear out of the car and began to assemble our packs.  Doug inspected mine and made me dump everything that he considered non-essential.  I was just trying to be prepared ! There are no crevasses to cross on this route and consequently, climbers do not need to be roped together.

Off we went with our heavy packs toward Camp Muir.  It was a clear sunny day as we walked up the rocky trail at Pebble Creek.  Then we headed up the Muir Snowfield, a long snowy landscape with a few large rocks exposed here and there.

The Muir Snowfield seemed to stretch forever.  Finally, after climbing 4.5 miles and taking numerous rest stops, I arrived at Camp Muir, 5-1/2 hours later, well behind my companions.  I was exhausted and happy to have made it that far.  The next day it would be an easy downhill walk to the car.  Since this trip, I have climbed to Camp Muir on two more occasions, taking me 5-1/2 hours each time.

Camp Muir is an impressive site, located at the top of the Muir snowfield and nestled in a saddle with Gibraltar Rock in the background.  There is a ranger hut, box style bunkhouse, and a stone cookhouse.  The bunkhouse and cookhouse are used by the professional guide service. In addition, there are three outhouses. The climbers who are not part of a guided trip have pitched small colorful tents to nap in before the ascent to the summit.

After pitching our tents and rolling out our sleeping bags, we started up a small gas stove, melted snow for cooking and proceeded to have dinner.  One has to be careful where they secure the snow because much of it is "yellow" snow. After eating and resting on my sleeping bag, I announced that I felt ready for the summit.

Early in the evening we climbed in our sleeping bags for a short night of attempted sleep.  As each gust of wind came up the mountain, it sounded like a locomotive approaching.  I slept very little. We arose about 2:00am to a moonlight morning, grabbed a quick bite, put on our gear including crampons, headlamps and trekking poles and headed up, the three of us on a single rope. Crampons are metal teeth that are secured to the bottom of your boots to give you traction on the glaciers.  I soon learned that if you stumble with crampons on, you can put a sizeable hole in your trousers.

Doug had decided that we would take the Gibraltar "ledges" route that had been one of the original climbing routes but because of crumbling rock was no longer the popular route.  It would be steeper but considerably shorter in distance to the summit.  There were some pretty exposed areas on the route as we finally came to where the ledges had crumbled off over the years.  We sat there looking way down the Nisqually Icecliff and ate a snack.  I was wearing a heavyweight polyprolene underwear top, a wool sweater and a windbreaker jacket and upon zipping my jacket open, I discovered that my perspiration was frozen on my sweater inside my jacket.

There was a steel ring in the rock wall that would allow us to rappel down to a steep snow chute, an extension of the Nisqually Glacier. While we were preparing to rappel, Scott removed one of his gloves that he somehow dropped and we watched as it sailed on the wind far down the glacier.  Doug had an extra pair of socks in his pack and one became a glove.  Doug had climbed this route before and had experienced a short rappel into the snow. The snow pack was a lot lower making for a steeper climb up a frozen chute to regain the elevation of the ledges.

I was getting quite exhausted at 12,000 ft. (photo at top of page) and moved very slowly the rest of the way up.  We had not seen any other climbers for several hours.  Finally, we saw other climbers coming up the popular Disappointment Clever route and eventually joined them on a snowy foot trail.  We encountered a climber who kept stopping and sitting down in the snow and was apparently sick due to the altitude.  At about 500 ft. from the summit I told Doug that I could see the people on top and that I was ready to turn around as it was getting to be around 11:00 am, a late arrival on the summit.  He told me that I was going all the way if he had to carry me.  Thus, our photo on the edge of the Rainier summit.

We sat just below the edge of the summit crater (14,000+ ft.), ate our lunch and took pictures.  The wind blows hard at that elevation leaving many of the rocks exposed.  The only regret that I have about this climb is that I did not have more time and energy to explore the crater and the steam vents.

We started back down about noon roped together and taking the Disappointment Clever route.  The snow was quite slushy making it difficult to walk with crampons. I remember crossing one small crack in the glacier.  Above Disappointment Clever, we walked parallel to a giant crevasse, an awesome sight with it varying colors of green and blue.  We hurried down through the rocky Disappointment Clever ever mindful of the dangers of falling rocks and avalanches that frequent this area.

Then, we carefully picked out way through the rocky Cathedral Gap. Now we could see the tents at Muir.

We arrived back at Muir around 3:00pm and were all extremely dehydrated. Unfortunately, our stove malfunctioned and we could not melt snow for water.  I went around Muir prepared to offer great sums of money for water, but some generous climbers gave us water.  We rested on our sleeping bags for a short while, packed up our gear and started back down to Paradise Lodge.

Thinking back, the decent from the summit can be most dangerous due to the feeling of euphoria over one's accomplishment and a tendency to become careless.

This trip was the most exhausting thing that I had ever done in my life.  I learned that mental attitude and focus plays a great role in a successful climb.

On one of my climbs to Camp Muir in 1995, I was reminded on the way back down how easy it is to get complacent.  I was traveling by myself, got into the fog and suddenly realized that I didn't know the exact way down.  I stood there in the fog for a short time until I heard voices, scampered over to where they were at and followed them down.

SHORTCUT TO MT ADAMS - by Duane Weaver

After our successful climb of Mt Rainier in 1988, I told Doug that I thought I was ready to climb Mt. Adams (elevation 12,276 ft.) on Father's Day in 1989.  I had never driven to Mt. Adams and upon viewing a map I decided rather than go south from Seattle on Interstate 5 that we would take the forestry roads which appeared to be a straighter and much shorter route passing very close to the west flank of Adams. We left after I finished work at 5:00 pm and headed south.  Just west of Mt. Rainier we stopped at the town of Packwood for dinner.

The next few hours were an adventure as we encountered bad roads, detours, and an elk herd stepping into the road directly in front of us. Finally, at about 11:00pm, I was cruising along at a pretty good clip when this large rock suddenly appeared in the middle of the road.  I swerved to avoid it but struck it with my left rear wheel.  I woke up Doug, who was asleep in the back of the car, and sadly announced that we had to fix a flat tire.  He was delighted to say the least!  Off we went again and finally sometime after midnight we reached the parking lot at the Cold Springs campground south of the mountain.  After we finally got in our sleeping bags it was a very short night and we got a late start the next morning. Doug asked me where my water was and I responded that I thought there would be a source at Cold Springs.  NOT True!!  Back we went several miles to the town of Trout Lake.

As we approached the mountain through the timber, it was a sunny beautiful day but there appeared to be a large cloud around the mountain.  See pictures captioned "1st attempt".  We were traveling light and hoped to make it to the summit and back the same day.  As we ascended the slope of the mountain it began to snow and got progressively worse as we climbed.  We were still well short of the "Lunch Counter". The "Lunch Counter" is a large flat area at about 9,000 ft. where climbers stay overnight prior to going to the summit.  We stopped and built a rock shelter from the wind and prepared to wait out the storm.  After some time we decided that we had better head for the car and try it another day.

When we got off the mountain the sun was shining again and looking back to the summit we could see that the cloud still lingered around the top.  Mountains do seem to make their own weather.

We headed home on Interstate 5 and the next day went into the Icicle Creek area out of Leavenworth, WA and completed a day hike (see Enchantment Lakes photos) of about 22 miles.We would wait until Father's Day 1992, when I finally made it to the summit.

Doug introduced me to rock climbing on Father's Day in 1990.  We started on some climbs of least difficulty in the Icicle creek area near Leavenworth, Wa. The rock climbing community has official ratings for each climb's degree of difficulty (see below).  We made these easier climbs with me tethered (not a rock climbing term) to Doug or some stationary object as he belayed me up to wherever I was going and then I would rappel back down to where I started. I learned that when I was ready to take off from the ground that I was supposed to yell inquisitively "on belay?" which indicates to the belayer that you are ready to climb.    If he is ready, he shouts, "belay on".   Then you shout, "climbing" which means he had better keep the slack out of the rope above you so that if you fall it would not be far.

I was constantly reminded as I climbed to "keep your feet flat to the rock and you butt out."  I never quite got the hang of falling, since my natural inclination was to jab my knees against the rock and use them as skid fins leaving a trail of blood on the rock (the rock climbers have a term for this too, see below).  We had a couple more of these outings and then Doug decided that it was time for a bigger test of the old man, we would climb the "Tooth Peak" (rated at 5.3) near the Alpental Ski area at Snoqualmie Pass.

It was beautiful sunny day as we parked at the Snow Lake trailhead in the Alpental Ski Area parking lot.  We hiked past the junction where the trail to Snow Lake ascends to the right and continued on until we could see the "Tooth" and then went cross-country to the peak.

It looked like an awesome climb to me as we put on our gear. Doug forgot the rock climbing shoes for me, so I had to lace my running shoes very tight.    Off we ascended with Doug in the lead and me on the end of the rope reminding myself to focus on looking up and not down or my fear of heights would kick in.

In technical climbing of this sort, it is important that the climbers are compatible and aware of each other's skill level.   I was aware of Doug's experience and knowledge and trusted him implicitly.

We had to do three pitches on the way up.  A pitch is a section of climb of about 150 feet. I was successful in all but one place where Doug had to haul me up about 3 ft.

When reached the top, I was relieved to see a hiker who had come up the trail from the backside and I announced that I would like to hike down that way in lieu of calling a helicopter.  To no avail, the hiker decided to rappel down with us and I was talked into rappelling down much against my own judgement.

Actually, after hanging my rear end out over nothing but air, I completed the first rappel and begin to enjoy it.

Subsequently, Doug, my grandson Tim and I climbed a wall from the beach at Larabee State Park near Bellingham, Washington.

After that I did a few more short practice climbs in Icicle Canyon (Leavenworth, WA) and retired from rock climbing.  My rock climbing trips now consist of accompanying Doug & his children (see Rock Climbing Photos), taking pictures and shouting words of encouragement such as "keep your feet up and your butt out".

For me rock climbing was another experience in encountering my fears and overcoming them.

      CLIMBING TO THE CRATER ON MT. ST. HELENS
              by Duane Weaver