Mt. Baker adventure a challenge
Sat, 12/29/2007
Would you like to climb Mt. Baker? That's what John Colver, the AdventX mountain guide, asked me earlier this year. He had gotten me up and down Mt. Rainier last year, so he figured I might be up for another challenge.
It's a good thing he waited a while after that Mt. Rainier climb to ask me because I'd have turned him down in a heart beat right after the Rainier climb was over. This time, he sweetened the deal by telling me this would be a "Climb for Fitness" fundraising climb to benefit Lake Washington Technical College's charitable fund to encourage fun and fitness for overweight children. No, there would be no overweight children climbing to the top of Mt. Baker, but the money raised on the climb would be spent for their benefit.
Six West Seattleites took the bait: Heather and Martin de Vrieze, Annette and Dave Herrick, Tony Medeiros and me. Most of us climbed Mt. Rainier last year, but this year Dave decided to join his fitness trainer wife, Annette, for the Mt. Baker climb. There were 13 people who undertook the climb, 8 men and 5 women. Two of us were "senior citizens," and the rest of the group was made up of comparative youngsters. Despite my advanced age, I felt absolutely in safe hands with John Colver leading the group. I also thought, incorrectly, that if I could climb Mt Rainier, that Mt. Baker would be a piece of cake. This was so not true!
First, there was the four-mile hike to the Mt Baker base camp (6,000 ft altitude) with a 50-pound pack. The Rainier climb was only two days, so we didn't need to pack tents, very much food or cooking gear. That lowered the pack weight for the climb in to Camp Muir to 35 pounds. Carrying the 50-pound pack to the Baker base camp was a lot harder than I thought it would be and the fourth mile was over steep, rocky terrain. I was huffing and puffing mightily by the time we arrived. I really needed the extra "training" day we had planned just to recuperate.
The first night at the Baker base camp, however, I did something rather stupid. I joined most of the others to romp over to see a beautiful sunset vista from a distant ridge. To get there, you "just" had to jump or wade through a creek and amble up a snowfield. I saw everyone else jumping at a particular spot, so I thought I could do it too. It didn't seem too hard, but I had underestimated the toll the fourth mile of the hike had taken on my quads. Well, at about the middle of the jump, I felt like Wiley Coyote in pursuit of the Roadrunner as I momentarily paused in mid air with that truly sinking feeling of the inevitable. Yes, down into the creek I went, soaking myself and turning my ankle to boot! I high tailed it back to the tent to change clothes and assess my ankle to see if my fund raising climb was ending ignominiously without having started.
After the guides got back from the sunset trip, one of them firmly suggested that I pack my ankle in snow. I knew that would help, but I had just gotten dry and was snuggled into my sleeping bag to warm up, so I declined. I hoped that Ibuprofen would do the job. I got through the next training day OK, with occasional painful reminders occurring mostly in the downhill training. I couldn't whine too much because, after all, I was the one who had declined the snow pack treatment.
Despite the ankle tweak, I figured that I had climbed Mt Rainier last year, so how tough could Mt. Baker be? Mt Rainier is 14,500 feet tall and Mt Baker is only 10,780 feet tall. High altitude issues aren't really in play until you get over 10,000 feet, right? The biggest problem I had last year with Mt Rainier was coming down from 14,500 feet to 5,000 feet after going from Camp Muir to the summit earlier the same day. That 14,500 descent was grueling on thighs and knees. So this, year, I resolved that I would train harder for the downhill by going up and down Mt Si, over and over and over again. I got to the point that I could go up four miles, down four miles, then immediately back up three miles and down three miles in eight hours. I thought that by doing all this, Mt. Baker would be easy.
Mt. Baker is indeed at a lower altitude, but the uphill and downhill journeys are far more intense. Baker is much steeper in many areas, involving some quasi-technical climbing with ice axe and crampons necessary for a "three point" climb. To do this, you plunge the ice axe into the ice wall in front of you and grab on for dear life. Then you kick at the wall with the toes of your boots and crampons until you have a good hold with the toe of one foot, move the other foot higher and kick at the wall with the inside edges of the boots and crampons until you have a good hold.
Then you repeat the process. Each step is a new opportunity to test your upper and lower body muscles, together with stamina, balance and will power. All this was not required on Mt Rainier. Rainier was a test of endurance and proper pressure breathing so that you could use all the oxygen available to simply move one foot in front of the other. Yes, there were crevasses and yes, we used an ice axe but it was mainly for preventative purposes in case of a fall. We walked around most of the crevasses and jumped only one on the day I climbed it. On Mt Baker, we really used that ice axe and our upper body to get up and down the steep parts.
I did make it up and down in one piece with occasional involuntary wincing "ows" when my ankle went some unapproved direction. I was right behind John Colver, our wonderful guide, and I did just what he patiently told me to do when he told me to do it. My life mantra, "One step at a time," worked for me, whether that step was steeply up, steeply down, or sideways along a really steep mountainside. I didn't gaze at the scenery mid-step or even look up, down or sideways unless we paused for a break in a safe place. What, me worry? Not seeing anything beyond the next step kept me from worrying about it. I jumped hard and with everything I had over the wider crevasses. I didn't want another Wiley Coyote moment where it might have counted a lot.
We did have some interesting group experiences, like Annette Herrick, my personal trainer, falling into a "team arrest" as three of her five-person rope team, including her husband, seemed to be sliding down the mountain into oblivion. This was on one of the really steep parts of our downhill journey. From my vantage point, I couldn't see the rest of her team, I could only see a rope going from their guide, around a boulder and down to Annette. She was on her stomach on a really steep slope in a "self arrest" hanging onto the ice axe as though her life depended on it.
The guides felt they had everything under control and nobody was going too far, but Annette was not going to let go of her ice axe until she was darn sure. The fact that her husband was right below her hanging from her rope probably intensified her desire to hang on! They all did get through that and they learned a few new techniques to boot.
Another interesting event occurred when Martin and his three-person rope team were "boot skiing" down a stretch of the mountain as they saw a crevasse looming in front of them. All three immediately fell into a quick "team arrest" on the snow in order and managed to stop themselves a safe distance from the crevasse. That extra training day did come in handy, after all. I'm sure their adrenaline went up a notch on that one. Despite these small predicaments, we all got down safely and no mountain rescue squads had to be called.
Our West Seattle group stayed an extra night at base camp and rested up a bit before coming down the next day. I was really glad we did because all that Mt. Si work did not keep my quads from yelling at me. The trip was exciting, and eventful, but not too eventful. It was harder then I expected and was truly equivalent to the Rainier climb. John Colver just e-mailed me wondering what our next adventure will be. At this point, I believe I can say with full confidence that my second childhood is over. I intend to leave ventures of this sort to my younger acquaintances. After I get back from a two-week trip kayaking in the Queen Charlotte Islands, I intend to supplement my running, biking, swimming and weight workouts with yoga and meditation.
No more mountain climbing, John, really, I mean it this time!
For everyone out there wanting to challenge themselves to that next step of adventure, contact John at john@adventx.com, or check out the AdventX web site. John currently teaches classes in Lincoln Park, so you don't have to go too far. Annette is still my wonderful trainer for non-mountain climbing events and she's available at annette@fitnessforvitality.com.
Sharon Best is a West Seattle attorney and novice mountain climber and can be reached via wseditor@robinsonnews.com