Adumbration

While 5 AM isn't much earlier than I normally get up during the week, it is a few hours before I normally arise on Sundays.  But I awoke with a start nonetheless, knowing in an hour I needed to be at the meeting place in Tukwila.  So I got dressed and finished loading the pack: water, burrito thingies, energy bars, apples, camera, extra clothes, ...  put all that and myself into the car and headed south; destination: from Paradise to Camp Muir, on Mt. Rainier, 5400 to 10,100 feet, ~4700 feet up in about 4 miles (http://www.nps.gov/mora/climb/climb.htm).

Tukwila is suburban USA like all others: interstate, shopping malls, hotels, office parks.  The hotel where we met had coffee.  Rich brought the Expedition (plus trailer, yeow), and we all loaded up and climbed in: Rich (I've known since Huntsville), his soon-to-be-senior-in-high-school son Jesse, guide Bryan (co-worker, he does this all the time), Nancy (spouse to another co-worker), Lynn (also works on the program), me.  Omelet at Shari's somewhere along the way, we approached from the south to avoid the fires, deer along the road side, lake about 20 feet low (record number of days this summer with temperature above 70 - it's been quite dry), finally the Paradise parking lot (which must be some kind of ultimate non-sequitur, especially for a national park).

Weather on arrival: beautiful blue skies, a few light clouds at the peak, crossed by the contrail of an airplane flying much higher.

We were out of the parking lot around 9 AM, and I was feeling it in my legs almost immediately, because once you get started it is only up.  The first mile or so is paved to accommodate the many tourists;  lots of little snaky trails in the near vicinity.  But at every turn in the trails near the Paradise lodge one immediately knows where to go - there is only one way - up.  Part of that first section for us was along the Dead Horse River trail (didn't actually see any), but pretty soon the Skyline trail is all there is, a little bit winding back and forth, and pretty well developed with rock steps and edges to keep people off the meadows.

While we were still below the tree line it was very green, but the trees were noticeably thinning at a rapid rate.  Saw a pair of marmots near the trail at one point, nibbling the grass;  a little farther on we heard their whistling calls behind us.  Near the end of the developed trail we crossed Pebble Creek and stepped over the first little bit of snow, just beginning to melt and get slushy in the warming air.

I looked up.  A common sensation for me this whole trip was that of the deceptiveness of the distance we were to travel.  From many points along the path I could look up and see where we were to end up, and it always looked about the same.  Rather fractal, self similar, in a huge vista of snow and rock and sky kind of way.

We donned gaiters for the rest of the climb (my donation to REI for this trip), and the nikwax application to my boots held up great.  Before long we were on the first of two long snow fields (in August!).  Somehow I managed to be in front for a while, and I would be climbing away, targeting what looked like a crest that would be followed by a flat section.  It turns out there _is_ no flat section, just one false indication after another.  After a good bit of this I saw what seemed like a good point and started to aim for some rocks to take a rest, but Brian was behind me, calling out "go for the next set of rocks". "Over there?", I say, pointing maybe 50 feet farther.  "Up there" he says, our target now another 200 yards or so.

But who knows what distance it really was.  It all started to look the same at a certain level.  But we made it to that rest point, but not all made it on from there.  Rich had really loaded himself down, and had been lagging;  he was carrying a full sized pack with a sleeping bag.  We were ready to go before he reached that point, so five proceeded from there.

I found that it was easier after a break if I did not sit down.

Looking back at all the other mountains I could see that none of the near ones were as high as I was at that moment.  St. Helens and Hood visible in the far distance.  Looking up and our destination appeared about the same distance away.  But I also spent time looking down, watching my feet, seeing that they tramped into the marks made ahead of me, slipping a bit here and there.

More snow.  Actually more like little ice crystals kind of like slush, but more solid.  Much of it with slight tinges of blue-green or red, sign of some micro-organism.  A crevasse marked with little flags crossed the path at one point.  Not very wide;  easy enough to step over, but it looked dark down there.  In addition to snow there are sections of rocks, lots of them, all piled on top of one another.  Big ones and little ones and great huge ones.  Flat ones and round ones, too.

After the rocks there was more snow, the final stretch to Camp Muir.  A huge field of ice, pock marked with dips created by the melt in the sun.  Bright whitish stretches and dark dirty places (that snow's been around a long time to collect all that dust).  Jesse took this point to return to where we left his dad, so then there were four.

Looking up to the final crest I could make out the little cabins of the camp.  Bryan and Nancy in the lead;  Lynn and I following ultimately about 8 minutes back when we reached the end.  Total time up was about 5 and a half hours.  Had lunch.  Bryan surprised us with hot chocolate from his thermos, and it felt so civilized to sit up there sipping it.  Looking around I could see path to the summit (14,410 feet), another 6 to 8 hours to complete.

After about 30 minutes we headed down.  The descent was much quicker, as we could slide on our boots and the main concern was to not go too fast, while the gaiters helped keep the snow out.  Bryan had also brought with him a few heavy plastic garbage bags, for use to slide down upon, which was a blast.  On the way up we had seen several paths people had formed sliding down like that, and by the time we were going down some of those trails were pretty long and smooth.  A couple times I went spinning around backwards, and once I was barely slowed before reaching the rocks (felt that collision in my shoulder for a few minutes afterward).  We joined up with Rich and Jesse, and before long the snow field ended.  And then it was just the climb over rocks down to the trail, back across Pebble Creek to the Skyline Trail.  We saw the marmots again, and a lot more people going up (few of them, I suspect, would make it as far as we did).

At around 5 PM we hit the parking lot, found the car, and I stretched my back, thinking about how I had just spent all day climbing that huge pile of rocks, only to turn around and come back down again.  The ultimate summit will have to wait for another day, but having done as much as that I allowed myself to think I could make it the rest of the way sometime.

Park Service Directions:   From the Paradise upper parking lot (5,420 ft) take the Skyline Trail to Pan Point, (6,900 ft) continue to Pebble Creek and follow the Muir Snowfield to Camp Muir at 10,100 ft. Make sure you pick up the "Get your Bearings" brochure which has the compass bearings from Pan Point to Camp Muir. At Camp Muir, there is a ranger station, guide hut, client hut, toilet facilities and public shelter. The public shelter holds 25 people and has an emergency radio inside. It’s open all year however the door may become blocked from the inside during snow storms. Camping permits for Muir are issued on a first come, first served basis. There is a limit of 110 people per night.