Rainier Journal: Day Two

We woke up this morning to the faint tapping of a northwestern drizzle, the kind that seems to hang in the air and only make everything damp. After breakfast we piled everything into the cars and headed to the ranger station to pick up our permits. The clouds were hanging thick on the mountain, but we kept catching glimpses of Rainier's lower glaciated slopes. Paradise is a nice starting point. The rangers helping us with our permits had just come down from a 30 hour push to rescue an injured climber.

Soon we were on snow, with such a deep snow year we were hiking in May like conditions. The fog came in thick and made our route finding a little trickier. It wasn't long before we pulled out our crampons and began crossing the glacier. With all the snow crevasses were few. The ones we crossed were less than a foot wide, still, this was my first time being on a glacier seeing the blue ice fade to black down in the crevasse.

We continued upward for hours in the fog until we were granted a little break in the clouds. The sun peaked out and we were given the opportunity to see our surroundings. The rugged terrain stopped us all in our tracks. The cameras came out and we all took our time taking pictures of the cracked glacier and the massive hanging seracs. The clouds were sweeping up bellow us and we were soon back in the fog. We took our turns at the front, one member of our group who will remain nameless (Dave) was terrorizing the group with his potent alpine air.  At one point I was behind him in the line and I was stopped in my tracks. I stayed in front of him, or as far behind him as I could get for the rest of the ascent.

We eventually reached our high camp at 10,500 ft. It began to snow after we had our tents up. I was sharing a tent with Darren, the expedition leader. We all settled in and had dinner. We talked for a couple hours about everything from climbing to literature, even sharing the stories about how we met the women in our lives.

I am glad he let me come on this trip. There are only eight of us on this route. In the small amount of interaction I have had with those here I can safely say I am glad each one is here. There was a great group synergy on the way up.

 Getting ready.

 Into the fog we went.

 Party line.

 

This is when the clouds opened up and we got our first glimpse of the glacier.

 

 This puppy was hanging over our camp.... we were out of the fall line but it was huge.

 

High camp. It snowed on us.

Overnight at Emerald Lake

 As I drew near the crest of Primrose Cirque I sent Jim Knight, the guy that I was planning to meet at Emerald Lake, a text to see if he was on the trail.

He replied simply, "At hut, em lake."

I was now glad that I had elected to go up alone, I thought I was getting a head start because he had work so I kept looking back over my shoulder because expecting to see him gaining on me. Jim is close to twice my age and I have a hard time keeping up. The guy is a mountain machine.

I only had a couple hundred vertical to go before I reached the Hidden Lakes Basin but I was starting to drag. During that last little push I was encouraging myself out loud. Every time I go somewhere with a full pack it reminds me why I like dawn patrols, your pack weighs about a quarter as much.

I finally reached Jim and his dog at the "Hut" which is still completely buried. I cooked up some food and we sat and talked. Jim talked mostly while I asked questions. The guy has done it all. Quite a few of the climbing routes I have been doing lately are his, or his sons, creations. The ice axe I was using was even one of his designs. 

The sun hit us early and we took our time letting the sun warm the snow. We made the decision to just head down Primrose instead of going any higher. As soon as we dropped in we knew it was a good idea. The snow was already too soft and sloppy, still fun, but sloppy. 

It was a good little trip, I have been wanting to camp up there all year and now I did. Check. Now next season I know I want to do a multi-day trip up there, there is a lot to ride.

 Dusk, it wasn't dark long. The full moon lit it up like day.

I want a dog like this in the future... She warmed up to me pretty quick and she can run for days.

 

Home sweet home.

This place always makes me feel small.

White to green.

Climbing Timpanogos: The Provo Hole

You roll out of bed at 5:00 a.m. stumbling through the routine of early morning preparation. After going through the checklist of what you have and what you need, you throw it haphazardly into the back of your car which is still filthy from your last adventure. You pick up your climbing partner, Jeremy Jolley, and make small talk as you drive through the morning twilight. The snow is gone down in the valley and it doesn't feel like you should be doing this type of thing anymore.

As you roll up to the trailhead, you look around and notice how far the snow line has receded. You force your feet into your boots and begin to walk. After a few minutes, a rhythm begins. The chatter of conversation thins and your breathing becomes just a little bit more laborious. Eventually there is snow. A layer of dirt covers the ice encrusted slope. The trail you were on becomes swallowed beneath it and eventually you are blazing a trail straight up the hill.

The crisp mountain, air mixed with the panoramic views, keep your mind alert. Having never been to this area you become so distracted by the mountains you almost forget how hard your heart is pounding in your chest. You pass another group in the middle of their ascent, there is always something to talk about when you encounter another person up here.

As you crest a small summit your view opens to the world beneath your feet. You are now somewhere above 11,000 feet. Walking the ridge on precarious ice makes you decide to pull on your crampons and pull out your ice axe. One slip could send you sliding on a journey toward the base of the mountain more than likely being interrupted by free falling off of cliffs or striking rocks on your merry way down.

As you reach your summit, you make preparations for your long descent. A nice layer of spring corn snow awaits and you greet it with enthusiasm.

This is my beginning to the day. My brain hadn't quite begun to function.

Willie Holdman cranking his way up early on in the climb. Check out the link, he is an amazing photographer. If you have been through the Salt Lake airport you have seen his stuff.

Partway up the Stairway to Heaven.

Another shot of Willie. The snow was so hard there was no real skin track to be made.

Pushing our way up.

As we gained the saddle we were greeted by this astounding view.

The climbing on the ridge got a little dicey. I busted out my crampons and ice axe for a bit.

Kind of crazy to think that this is what waited a few feet to my left on the ridge. In bad visibility it wouldn't be hard to accidentally walk out on a cornice and.... see ya later.

They were really cool formations.

Getting ready to go.

Loading up.

Jeremy Jolley slashing his way down.

Willie getting some of that springtime lovin'.

fun all the way down. We had a few route finding hiccups but we worked them out. This whole area was amazing. I want to go back during the winter next year. There is so much out there to be explored.