Back MOUNT RAINIER SEPTEMBER 1987 Mount Rainier is located in the south western corner of the state of Washington in Mt

MOUNT RAINIER SEPTEMBER 1987

      Mount Rainier is located in the south western corner of the state of Washington in Mt. Rainier National Park. It is the most glaciated single peak system in the world. It is impossible to reach the summit without climbing over one of the many glaciers. Rainier is part of the Cascades which stretch from the Pacific Northwest down as far as Mt. Shasta and Mt. Lassen in Northern California. The chain is made up of dormant volcanoes as opposed to the Sierra Nevada which were formed by the folding of the earth's crust. The Cascades are the only mountains in the country that are still actively growing and are definitely not extinct as proven fairly recently by Mt. St. Helens. Mt. Shasta has a hot sulphur spring near the summit and Rainier has hot steam caves near the summit which climbers have taken refuge in during sudden and severe weather changes.
      The two most popular routes start from Paradise on the west and the White River or Sunrise on the east. Having failed in our attempt from Paradise in May we decided to try from the opposite side of the mountain the second time. The second attempt consisted only of Mike and myself where the first attempt had also included Barry.

      In September of nineteen hundred and eighty seven the west coast mountains were ablaze, not with the rich and vibrant colors, that typify autumn in many parts of the country, but rather ablaze with fire. Countless numbers of fires had tainted the air of northern California and southern Oregon with dense haze and poor visibility. On our drive up Interstate 5 we stopped at Weed. Normally Mount Shasta dominates the view from Weed, with it's fourteen thousand foot summit towering only a few miles away. The air was so full of smoke that day that nothing of the mountain could be seen, and on a casual glance many of the valleys looked like they contained lakes, when in actuality they were filled with smoke.
      The first time I tried climbing on Rainier we hadn't planned the timing of our arrival at the selected trail head very well. After the eight hundred mile drive from the bay area we ended up arriving on the mountain and starting our climb at about one o'clock in the afternoon. On the second summit attempt we arrived in the middle of the night and were able to start off climbing at dawn, giving us a full first day of hiking. Our scheduling also allowed for four days to climb to the summit and back. We had only provided for what turned out to be an inadequate three days on the first attempt. Our timing on the drive also allowed us to stop in Washington just over the border from Oregon and partake of a delicious steak dinner at place called Brubakers. On the first trip we had stopped for breakfast at the Denny's across the street from Brubakers.
     White River campground was mostly deserted compared to a campground in California around Labor Day weekend. The sites were on a first come first served basis and there were plenty available when we arrived. We didn't take up a campsite but instead parked in the provided back country parking lot. Looking up the river Rainier could be seen to the southwest, towering over ten thousand feet above our starting point. The road we had turned off of continued up to Sunrise but we decided not to make that our trail head. Although it would have been a higher starting point the trail from Sunrise drops down to meet the trail from White River just before Glacier Basin. We decided to avoid what would have been a hard steep climb up to Sunrise on the way back down from the mountain.
     Rainier's snow cover in September was nothing compared with what we had seen earlier that year on our first attempt in May. Only the glaciers remained and all the cleavers and rocks appeared devoid of snow. On the side we were approaching from the great rock mass of Wilitz Wall dominated the right northern flank of the mountain. Gilbralter Rock, whose opposite face we had seen on our climb the last time, was to the left and Steamboat Prow with the Inter Glacier was pretty much in the middle of our view. Our initial route was to take us to Glacier Basin at the foot of the Inter Glacier. From there up the glacier to Camp Curtis near the head of Steamboat Prow.
      When we checked on the conditions around the mountain we were surprised to learn that Rainier had a climbing season and it was about over. Through out the summer snow bridges over the crevasses fall in and routes to the summit become hard to find. Extremely important are the bridges over the burgschrund near the top of the glacier where the weight of the glacier pulls it away from the ice capped mountain. The huge crevasse created is usually hundreds of feet deep and pretty much impassible without bridges. We were told the route up the other side of the mountain from Paradise had become extremely broken and at one point they had installed fixed ropes down into and up out of a large crevasse to make the route possible.
      The trail out of White River campground started out at a easy incline in the deep shade of the tall trees. It passed by moss and fern shrouded springs which seemed to gush out of the hillside and tumble down the rocks to flow under the trail. At one point the trail came upon some rusty remains of an old mining operation. From there the trail switch backed to the right and began climbing more severely towards Glacier Basin. By the time we reached the campsite area at the basin it was early afternoon and I was contemplating taking the rest of the day off and continuing to the head of Steamboat Prow the next day. We ran into a ranger who convinced us it would be better to continue up to the prow and take the next day to rest after the difficult accent. He told us the route that was being used lay to the right side of the Inter Glacier.
      Talking to the ranger we learned that it was probably still possible to reach the summit from the White River side. From Camp Curtis near the top of Steamboat Prow we had to drop down onto the Emmons Glacier and go around the front of the prow to Camp Schrum which was located at about ten thousand feet. From Camp Schrum the route went up the Emmons Glacier towards the left and into an amphitheater area. It then continued out the right side of the amphitheater and up into the saddle which separated the 14,410 foot summit from 14,133 foot Liberty Cap. Above the amphitheater and below the saddle lay the Emmons burgschrund which at last report still had one snow bridge across it. If the bridge had fallen recently the ranger didn't believe there was anyway to make the summit. We also learned that three people had died on the mountain since our last visit. Two had died in their tent when it was crushed by a snow storm near Liberty Ridge. One had died falling into a crevasse near the top of Winthrope Glacier which is up to the right of Camp Schrum towards Russell Cliff and the Wilitz Wall. Overall it had been a bad climbing season in the Cascades with quite a few deaths.
      From the basin we made our way to the foot of the Inter Glacier. The lower part of the glacier appeared to be composed of solid black ice. All the snow cover had melted off and it appeared very treacherous. A handful of people were making their way down and we asked them if the were coming down from one of the camps above. They told us they had just started climbing up a short time ago. They had decided to turn back without reaching the top of the glacier. Mike and I downed our crampons, pulled out our ice axes, roped up and began ascending the glacier. We took it very slowly because if either of us had lost our footing we would both be going for a long unwanted ride.
      The trouble with taking a fall while wearing crampons is that you have to get onto your stomach and bend you legs back at the knees, to get the sharp points away from the icy surface, before trying to arrest your fall with an ice axe. If you crampons catch after you've worked up some momentum there is a good chance of snapping a leg. The glacier was so steep and icy that I doubt self arrest with an ice axe would have been possible and we would have probably ended up at the bottom of the glacier as broken as the rocks of the moraine that would eventually stop our slide.
      After making our way up the right side for a while it appeared to us that the going would be easier if we moved left towards the center of the glacier. That wasn't the first mistake we'd ever made and it wouldn't be the last. As we moved higher the surface of the glacier began to pick up a little bit of snow cover and started appearing white instead of blackish. It wasn't long until we found ourselves among a jumble of giant ice cubes. The larger horizontal or crescentric crevasses were dissected by smaller vertical or lateral ones forming large uneven blocks of ice. It really wasn't any fun jumping from block to block. There was no place to set up a good belay and it would have been too time consuming with all the crevasses we had to jump or climb across. Most the time Mike was leading and I'd be standing only a few feet behind him with a coil of rope in my hand. If he had gone into a crevasse I doubt there would have been much I could do to arrest his fall. Luckily many of the fissures were only a few feet wide and appeared to narrow rather quickly. If one of us had fallen in we probably would have became wedged within a dozen feet. The ice blocks weren't very wide and after jumping between them we had to keep our balance to avoid falling off one of the edges. This isn't particularly easy with a seventy pound back pack on. Another disadvantage I'll never repeat again is wearing crampons with bell bottoms and no gaiters, even if there is no appreciable snow. Several times when I went to make a jump my crampons would catch on my lower pant legs and I was just lucky I didn't trip and go head first into a crevasse.
      After a while of cube jumping we decided we had better try and make our way back towards the right side of the glacier where we were supposed to be. Another fun part of heading up was where a horizontal crevasse ended to you're immediate left or right. You could never be sure how far the crevasse extended past where it appeared to end. They upper side of the crevasse had a tendency to be several feet higher than the cube we were standing on. Often you couldn't move very far from the open part of the crevasse because either the crevasse opened again or a vertical crevasse blocked the way. Then you had to either jump the little snow bridge and plant your ice axe or take a step on the snow bridge and plant the axe. Luckily all the small snow bridges we stepped on held. As we began to near the upper part of the glacier we had finally made it back to the right but the going was only slightly easier. There was still some tricky uneven and crevasse filled terrain to be dealt with and the light was beginning to fade.
      We had noticed some people paralleling us up the right side and we eventually worked our way over to them. About that time we could here people off to our left on the rocky ridge which was the side of Steamboat Prow. We decide they must be at Camp Curtis and worked our way back over to the left. By the time we made it off the glacier and onto the rocks it was dark. I was extremely happy to finally be off the ice and have some feeling of safety. The term camp is a little bit of a misnomer. A few spots on the sloped rocky ridge had been cleared to form areas just big enough to lay down a couple of sleeping bags. Among the areas I don't think there was enough room for more than about a dozen people total. It had taken us almost twelve hours to reach the camp and I had no problem sleeping that night even with the almost constant sound of rock avalanches.
      The next morning we got a good look at the area in the light. The mountain's glaciers reaching up towards the summit were very dirty from the dust kicked up by the rocks avalanching from Little Tahoma on our left, Russell Cliff on our right, and from Steamboat Prow itself. The Emmons Glacier directly below us was heavily crevassed, caused by the side of the glacier being slowed relative to the middle by it's contact with the prow. In the light we also found that Camp Curtis came equipped with all the comforts of home. Namely an open air chemical toilet which afforded a fantastic view while sitting on the throne. After surveying the condition of the terrain reaching up the mountain the other two groups of people whom had shared Camp Curtis with us the night before decided against continuing. One group said they would be back next season when there was a little more snow on the glaciers. Mike and I decided to spend a few hours and climb off the side of the prow and up the Emmons Glacier to Camp Schrum.
      The ridge down to the glacier was very steep and composed of loose crumbling rock. With no one in front of me I started quite a few small avalanches on the way down. Mike had to be a little more careful to try and not dislodge rocks which could hit me. It was impossible to get down the cliff without dislodging some rocks but luckily I wasn't hit by any major ones. Partway down we spied a snow bridge which reached off the glacier all the way to the rock wall. It was about twenty feet wide and we aimed for that. When we reached the snow bridge we put on our crampons and roped up. Having learned the hard way the day before this time I remembered to put on my gaiters. The side wall of the prow extended fifty feet or so below the surface of the glacier and there were a lot of crevasses along the edge. Seeking better terrain we headed out a little onto the glacier and began following the side of the prow upwards towards the tip.
      At one point I was walking a few feet from a crescentric crevasse to my left which had a lateral crevasse joining it to form a forty five degree angle. I wasn't paying that much attention and I didn't realize the crescentric crevasse continued under where I was walking until my left leg sunk in to my upper thigh. In the spring in the Sierras when your foot goes through a weak spot in the snow crust it is often because there is a log or a boulder underneath which has caused the snow to melt out from the bottom. It didn't dawn on me for a few seconds that there weren't many boulders or logs in the middle of a glacier and I never even bothered to yell anything to Mike behind me. When I pulled my leg out there was a nice hole that revealed a fifty foot or deeper crevice beneath me. I warned Mike to skirt farther to the right of where I had broken through.
      Luckily we were going uphill and it would have been easier for Mike to try and arrest my fall if I had broken completely through. Going downhill you have gravity trying to help pull the other guy towards the crevasse instead of helping to keep him away from it by making you pull the other guy uphill. We were traveling with the rope doubled up as recommended for a two man team. Later on the trip we ran into an experienced two man team who traveled without doubling up the rope. I think that makes more sense then doubling it. If you have a hundred foot rope doubled and a hundred foot crevasse you have fifty feet to stop your buddies fall before you're both in the crevasse. With the rope single you have over ninety nine feet to work with. Even though I didn't fall in I still should have yelled a one word warning to Mike. The split second warning could have helped to prepare him for a possible sudden jolt.
      As we worked our way up around the point of the prow the camp came into view. After the cliff at the point of the prow drops down, a spit of rock sticks out into the flow of the side by side glaciers. Camp Schrum is built on this rocky oasis in the ice. From the direction we approached the easiest way onto the rock shelf appeared to be over a snow bridge which spanned a forty foot crevice where the glacier had pulled away from the rock. While we transited the bridge the few people in the camp watched us with apparent amusement. It turned out there was an easier way into the camp from a little further up the slope and we never used the bridge again nor saw anyone else use it.
      Camp Schrum has a rangers structure constructed out a short length of large diameter oval shaped corrugated steel similar to that used for large drainage pipes. The uphill face has a normal sized door and window in it and the there are short side walls of piled up rock, probably to keep the structure from rolling over. Another feature of the camp is an enclosed outhouse. The privacy was nice but I stilled preferred the open air freshness of the facilities at the previous camp. There were two other two man groups in camp and the ranger who had passed us at Glacier Basin. Latter that day another male and a female ranger came uphill into camp. They travelled unroped with crampons and ski poles. They had an end of the season party that night in their shelter which interfered a little with getting to sleep early. Mike pitched his tent and instead of eating I decided to get as much sleep as possible before our planned midnight departure for the summit.
      The information we received from the rangers was that the route was still open and there were flagged willow wands marking most the way. From camp we were to head straight up the mountain until just before the route was blocked by its narrowing into a box canyon. There we were supposed to climb up the ridge of ice on the left onto a fairly uniform ice sheet. We were to then work our way up and left (southward) until we reached the middle of an amphitheater. There we were to find a snow bridge exiting it to the right. From there we were to make our way up to the snow bridge over the Emmons burgschrund and into the saddle. Close to the summit a snow bridge had recently fallen in but if we continued to the right we could find another route to the top.
      At midnight three two man rope teams started for the summit which was still over four thousand feet above the camp. One team was experienced in glacial climbing, but the other two, including Mike and I, were not. Starting up from camp we worked our way between a series of crevasses which ran downhill towards the prows face. A near full moon was expected to help light our way but when we started out it was still obscured by the massive bulk of the mountain. Instead we relied on the small pools of light thrown off by our head lamps. We made our way along the left side of the ice field where ice cliffs rose up to the next higher plate of ice that we were supposed to reach. After climbing for less than a hour a massive ice cliff began to appear blocking the route in front of us. One section had a huge ice block in front of it and the two experienced climbers wanted to climb it to see if it was connected to the top of the ice cliff behind it. While we were discussing the route the other rope team had back tracked a short distance and had managed to sight a flagged willow wand on the southern ridge.
      After convincing the experienced third team it was better to stick to the known route we made our way back to the base of the southern pressure ridge. Using hand holds, foot holds, knee holds, ice axes and about anything else we could, we scrambled up the ridge to the next higher, sharply sloped, icy plateau. After gaining the next level we began making our way, using a steadily climbing transverse route, towards where we believed the amphitheater lay. Ever since we had first climbed onto the glacier we could hear the grinding creaking noises of the shifting ice masses. Several times it felt like the particular section of ice we were standing on dropped slightly. While we were stopped for a breather, a huge plate of ice that we were on decided to drop several inches. That did it for the other inexperienced team, they decided to head back to camp and skip the wonderful experiences until some time in the future. I had traveled about eight hundred miles, and Mike close to twelve hundred miles to get to the mountain, we had no thought of turning back and trying the climb some other time.
      After only about two hours of climbing my head lamp was almost useless. I was using cheap Eveready Black Cat batteries and wasn't carrying any spares. I should have invested in the more expensive longer lasting type battery. The head lamp I had at that time was an inexpensive one which took three D sized batteries. The battery pack was detached from the lamp and I carried it in against my body to keep cold temperatures from slowing down the chemical reaction. The temperature was only down in the twenties and wasn't any factor in the light's early demise. Luckily the moon had appeared and was shedding some light on our endeavors. The other team was leading and Mike was in front of me on our rope. Someone would yell back as to which way to veer to avoid small crevasses or apparent weak spots. I was almost better off being able to avoid them without seeing them very well. As we climbed I was somewhat able to judge our elevation by our relationship to 11,138 foot Little Tahoma Peak. At first we were below it, then about even with it, and eventually above it as we made our way into the amphitheater area, which was probably around the twelve thousand foot level.
      We took a break in the amphitheater while the other team scouted around trying to find the route up out of the area. I was wearing a gortex-thinsulate parka but the only thing I had on under it was a poly propolene long underwear top. I was comfortable while we were moving but became a little chilly while just standing around. The sun was due to rise within a few hours and I was hoping as well as bringing light, it would bring some additional heat with it. I had some additional clothing in my summit pack but figured if I put some on I'd only have to stop latter and take it off as the day warmed. The other team, whose names I have since forgotten, found the route which led up to the top of the right side cliff. The route crossed over a large crevasse which ran down the side of the amphitheater. The crevasse was about thirty feet wide and probably eighty feet deep. It disappeared under the cliff at the top of the amphitheater and ice overhung that end of the crevasse. The snow bridge didn't appear to be in very good condition and I had a sudden adrenaline rush when, while I was in the middle of it, a railroad car sized block of ice broke free of the overhang and crashed down into the crevasse.
     After exiting the bowl we again were climbing on a fairly uniform steeply sloped ice plate. I was wearing adjustable crampons and the connecting toothed metal strip on one had become bent. Several times I had to stop and refasten that one because it had come off. Even though I was probably in the best shape I had ever been, compared to any of my previous climbs, I welcomed the unexpected stops as short breathers. I had been riding a bicycle, sometimes forty miles a trip, and had sporadically quit smoking. Still as we climbed towards twelve and a half thousand feet my efforts had started to become labored. The other team, who appeared older then us, were in good shape and soon began to greatly out distance us. I believe Mike could have kept up with them but he had a slight disadvantage. He had me tied to the other end of his rope. By the time the welcome sun had risen the other team was out of sight.
      Near the thirteen thousand foot level we came to the burgschrund. I had seen what I had considered large crevasses before but they paled in comparison with that one. It ran across the glacier and then turned down hill to our right. The uphill side appeared to be a sheer fifty foot cliff which dropped out of sight into the huge crevasse. Luckily just before it broke out into open air on our right there was a fairly level snow bridge. The bridge didn't appear too sound and the massive size of the bergschrund helped to reinforce that impression. Mike started to balk and I wasn't very sure about attempting it either. I was pretty determined not to have come that far for nothing but the sight was more than a little frightening. Luckily the other team had stopped on the other side and they beckoned us over. I think they stopped there for the purpose of giving a couple of inexperienced climbers the little extra nerve that was required.
      The bridge appeared to be about twenty five feet thick and about fifteen feet wide, but the size of the crevasse dwarfed it and I had just seen a similar sized block of ice go crashing into a crevasse a few hours ago. While in the middle I glanced down and the several hundred foot drop brought on a quick jolt of vertigo. A picture from the bridge would have been dynamite, but I had no intention of standing on it any longer than I had to. For the first time we set up belays but there isn't much to use for an anchor in the middle of a glacier. Basically all you can do is sit down, dig your feet in ahead of you, and play rope out from around your body. Or stick your ice axe in almost all the way and use it as a belaying point. I don't remember which we did but just because the other team was on the other side we didn't take for granted the bridge was safe. It was going to fall in eventually and I just hoped it would not pick that time to do it.
      After we crossed the bergschrund we took a short break then pushed on with the other team up into the saddle. On listings of North American peaks, Mt. Rainier is listed at 14,410 feet, Liberty Cap at 14,133 feet and Point Success at 14,150 feet. All three peaks are actually on the same massive mountain and the saddle is what separates Mt. Rainier from Liberty Cap. The lower western side of the saddle is about even with the top of Russell Cliff and affords a nice view back down to Steamboat Prow and far beyond. From the saddle the ranger's structure at camp Schrum appears as just a dot on the face of the prow. The moraine of the Emmons Glacier is visible along with the White River stretching its way back down below Sunrise. As we got up further into the saddle Liberty Cap came into view. The ice capped rock face was only about a half a mile from our route but the ice field stretching over to it from us was interrupted by some major crevasses. I don't know if a flagged route to the cap existed because everyone we had talked to had only discussed Rainier itself.
      As we climbed up the northern face of the mountain and out of the saddle we came to the point where a flagged willow wand was visible atop a ridge which was separated from us by a decent sized crevasse. This must of been where a snow bridge had fallen in causing the route to be changed. There was no way we could gain the ridge from where we were at so we continued around to the right searching out the new route to the summit. We found a marker and then cut back to our left up a steep walled ice canyon. At the point where we made the cut there was a rocky cave with water and steam issuing from it. Rainier is not a dead volcano and there are supposed to be quite a few steam caves around the summit. Sometimes in severe weather changes these heat sources have saved lives. As we approached the summit the weather was beautiful, mostly clear with a little long distance haze and temperatures around freezing.
       The other team forged on ahead because of my usual high altitude slowness. As we climbed above the fourteen thousand foot level, I uttered my usual curses of the evils of alcohol and tobacco and trudged onward. Nearing on ten in the morning the summit was finally at hand. The actual summit was pretty much free of snow and consisted of barren rock piles. We ditched our crampons and summit packs and then scrambled over the rock to our finial goal. The first thing I did on top was to chip a rock out of the ice and put it in my pocket. I have a rock from the top of Mt. Shasta but had forgotten to pick one up on top of Mt. Whitney. We got one of the men from the other team to take our picture together on the summit then took some time to admire the view.
       The huge bulk of the mountain top surrounding us blocked any medium range view of such things as Steamboat Prow and the White River to the west or Paradise to the east, but the immediate surrounding and long range views were fantastic. To the south standing out on the horizon we could make out the majestic snow capped Mt. Adams and the irregular peak of the devastated Mt. St. Helens. To the west we could see a long ways off into the Cascades and into western Washington. Right below us to the west lay the Columbia Crest. The crest is a huge circular snow and ice filled crater ringed with a relatively short wall of rock. There are supposed to be a lot of the steam caves surrounding the crest. For a while we watched an ant sized person slowly moving along the craters white floor. The northern view was dominated by nearby Liberty Cap and the east by Pt. Success. For a while during the night, after gaining enough altitude and before moving to far south around the mountain, we had been able to see the lights from the Puget Sound area. From the summit the Sound area could only vaguely be discerned behind Liberty Cap because the whole area was socked in by low clouds or fog.
       After about fifteen or twenty minutes we made our way back down to the edge of the snow where we had left the rest of our equipment. It seemed a shame to spend almost ten hours climbing just for a few minutes on top, especially with the good weather conditions, but we had to start thinking about getting down again. While we took a short break to eat something and put our crampons back on again the other team started back down. Not far from the summit we made our way towards a flagged willow wand to our right. When we reached it we found ourselves looking down across a crevasse where the route had been before the snow bridge had fallen in. We had to back track towards the summit in order to get back on the right route. The good thing about going down hill is that the view is better, you don't have to look back over your shoulder like you do on the way up. When we reached the snow bridge over the bergschrund there wasn't much hesitation in crossing it because we knew it was the only way home.
      Below the burgschrund we worked our way down and to the right until we spotted the flagged willow wand that indicated the snow bridge leading back down into the amphitheater. From the rim we spotted the other team leaving the bottom of the amphitheater, that was the last we saw of them until we got back to camp. The bridge looked a little sturdier than it had in the dark and again it was the only way we were going to get back down. The area below the amphitheater was filled with giant snow cups which I hadn't noticed on the way up. These made going fairly slow along with my trying not to step on Mike's rope with my crampons. Nobody needs holes in a rope your life might depend on. Mike had bought a good kern mantel rope since our first attempt and we didn't have to use my rope which seemed to more closely resembled stiff wire than rope. We finally spotted the last marker which indicated the pressure ridge which dropped back down onto the final ice plate that led down into camp. Heading back towards camp the ice cliffs of the pressure ridge, which the night before had been shades of grey, displayed a beautiful blue-green color.
      When we arrived back in camp around four in the afternoon the other team was packed up and ready to head back out to civilization. After the rangers had seen Mike and I come back into view of the camp they had packed up and called it a season. After sixteen hours there was no way I was heading out until the next day. Those two guys were sure in great shape. It was either that or I was in terrible shape, the truth was probably a combination of the two. I still doubt they got back to the trail head before dark. I lit up a cigar to celebrate our victory but was feeling so poorly I couldn't finish it. I didn't bother fixing anything to eat I just wanted to lay down and sleep. Mike stayed up and did what ever, I went to sleep by a little after five. One thing I did do before retiring was use the outhouse. One thing I had noticed on the climb was occasional piles of human waste. I imagine at one time they were buried, but by late in the season most of the snow had melted and they were exposed. It wasn't a sight which complemented the scenery. I still wonder what fun it must be to have to go when you are roped up with a team.
      The next morning we packed up and prepared to head back down to the car. On the trip down from Camp Schrum to the side of Steamboat Prow I made sure to not go anywhere near the point where I had partially fallen through the glacier on the way up. I could still see my leg hole in the snow but I also noticed the foot prints of the people who had been that way since I made the hole wisely steered clear of the area. When we reached the side of the rock wall, on what appeared to be the same snow bridge we had climbed onto the glacier from, we took off our crampons. It turned out that getting up was a lot harder than getting down. The rock was very rotten and most of the time what appeared to be a good hand hold crumbled off in you hand. We decided to stay roped and Mike went up first. We didn't have any devices for setting anchors in rock and even if we had I doubt they would have held. One the first leg, if Mike had fallen, he would have probably gone down along side the glacier on the down hill side of the bridge. The only thing I could think of doing if he fell was jump into the up hill side of the crevasse and hopefully nether of us would hit bottom. After he had gone a doubled rope length he set up a feeble belay and I followed. If I had fallen he would have gone with me, the rope really wasn't that much of a safety device. It would have been a lot easier without a nearly seventy pound pack on.
      After finally reaching the top of the prows side wall we put our crampons back on and started down the Inter Glacier. This time we kept out of the middle and to the left side where we were supposed to be. Most the crevasses we came across ran horizontally across the glacier and we could often just walk around the ends of them. Sometimes they were so narrow you could just sit on the uphill side and step or jump over them. Planting crampons in the ice and leaning back up hill strained some muscles I didn't even know I had. At times I wanted to hurry to shorten the time in agony, but a misplaced step on the glare ice would probably be the last step I took. By the time we stepped off the bottom of the glacier my legs were killing me. It felt good to take the crampons off knowing they wouldn't be going on again. After reaching Glacier Basin it was just a matter of hiking down a clearly marked trail until we got back to the car.
      Back at the car the van parked next to us had the passenger window smashed out. There was a note on the windshield from a ranger asking the owner to get in touch with him about it. It doesn't really matter where you go there are still a fair share of assholes in this world. After a while on the drive back neither Mike nor I could stay awake. We had to pull over in the Sacramento Valley and take a nap. The fires that had been burning out of control in northern California and Oregon on our way up had gotten worse and even the rest areas in the Sacramento Valley were full of smoke. On the way up, in some spots in Oregon, the fire had been to the side of the interstate, these were out on the way back. When I reached Vallejo I was home but Mike still had over three hundred miles to go to reach China Lake. I had dropped him in Fairfield where his wife was staying with her parents during our trip. I imagine she did the driving from there.
      As of this writing on the last day of the decade of the eighties, I have climbed a higher mountain then Rainier, that being Mt. Whitney, a mere eighty five feet higher. Whitney is just a bump on a high ridge, while Rainier is a lone sentinel, thrusting skyward from nowhere. Whitney may have the honor of being the highest point in the lower forty eight states, but even tainted by late season avalanche dust and dirt, Rainier must draw the honor of being the most challenging and majestic.

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