Rainier Summit Day - Details, Mindset, and Beyond

Here are the details of summit day - warning, this is long.

Before I get going, I'd first like to individually mention and thank our RMI guides who kept us safe and were incredibly knowledgeable about climbing, safety, rescue techniques, and Mt Rainier. If you'd like to read more about their personal backgrounds, please click here.

• Linden Mallory - Lead Guide
• Gilbert Chase - Assistant Guide
• Lindsay Mann - Assistant Guide
• Geoff Schellens - Assistant Guide

This was a top notch group and if anyone is ever interested in getting into climbing, their 6-day Expedition Seminar is a great place to start. Even after having a few climbs under my belt, I still learned more in the first day of class than I have on any expedition. This seminar, in my opinion, was worth every penny, even as a climber with some mountaineering experience. So, Linden, Gilbert, Lindsay, and Geoff, if you guys read this, thanks again!

When you go for the summit of a major mountain, you typically leave early in the AM, say 12am-2am so you can hike through the night when the mountain is frozen and less dangerous. This typically means you get into your high camp around 3pm-5pm the day before, eat dinner, and then try to sleep from 8pm until midnight when the guides' "wake up" call comes. For me, who already doesn't sleep well on expeditions, this typically means I shut my eyes and toss and turn - but not this time. I crashed hard from about 8pm until 1am when Linden woke us up with the 15-minute call until hot drinks. I already had adrenaline going though, so I didn't need the oatmeal or drinks. Instead, I plowed through 2 bags of strawberry Pop Tarts, a Fruit Roll-Up, and some ice cold Gatorade.

After eating, I stepped outside the tent to a crisp night (about 25 degrees) with an incredible full moon, clear sky, very light breeze, and an awesome view of the Seattle lights. In terms of mountain climbing, easily the best summit weather Ive ever had. After getting dressed, I strapped on my harness, crampons, boots, helmet, headlamp (which we almost didn't need because the moon was so bright), and gaiters, then headed over to Linden for my rope assignment. As it turned out, Linden, our Lead Guide, would also be leading my rope and we would be teaming with a climber named Mike from Charlotte. At 2:15am, we were all roped together, passed Linden's gear inspection, and were ready to roll.

We headed out of camp and started up a gentle, but very choppy area above Camp Shurman. Our group was followed by Gilbert's rope team, then Lindsay's, and then Geoff's (I believe). It didn't take long for the blood to get flowing and I climbed in only 2 layers - an Under Armour wicking shirt, and a light REI jacket (2 layers on summit day is almost unheard of). Linden had planned out our day the night before, so we knew we would have 4 breaks heading up the mountain, and 2 breaks heading down. I had 3 liters of water, so I consumed half a liter at each break (Most climbers take 2 liters, but I sweat so much I need more). During the first segment, my rhythm was a little choppy due to some big steps I had to take to get around some taller pentitentes, which resulted in me pulling ahead of Mike a bit and tugging his rope. Trying to get in rhythm is very important when being roped up so everyone can move at the same speed. Being that I was in the middle of the 3 of us, with Linden leading, it's my job to time myself with Linden so Mike can, in turn, time himself with me. Despite my initial timing issue, my rest stepping form was solid and I was trying to pressure breath as much as possible.

Our team cruised into the first break and I felt awesome. My heart rate was low, my legs felt strong, my focus solid, and I finally found a rhythm. I personally felt our second segment was probably the best, as I didn't feel many tugs, if any at all, on the rope. Our spacing and pace were perfect. As we pulled into the 2nd break, the sun started rising (see pictures) which was a welcome site. The temperature reaches it's low usually right before the sun comes up and I was cold at breaks, even with my down jacket on. I still had a good appetite though and was plowing through Grandma's Chocolate Chip & Oatmeal Cookies and Fruit Roll Ups. When in the mountains and at high altitude, you typically lose your appetite, so you eat foods high in calorie content, sugar, and salt - like cookies, candy bars, etc... It's basically the reverse theory of eating healthy at home. I read somewhere we would burn between 6,000 - 11,000 calories on summit day, so what you are eating is irrelevant. You need calories! As the sun came up, the air started warming again right as we were hitting the steepest part of the climb (to this point). I don't think my thermometer ever dropped below 20 degrees and with negligible wind I doubt the wind chill was much lower. A PERFECT day for climbing!

As the morning went on I continued to feel strong - This is where I could tell changing my training up from Aconcagua/Kili/Elbrus really worked. Up to 13,500 feet I never counted my heart rate above 130, which is fantastic given what you are climbing. It was also the fastest I have ascended to over 13,000 feet on any of my climbs - normally it takes 3-4 days to get to that altitude on a big climb. The hill got a bit steeper as we proceeded, so Linden followed a trail that had a few switchbacks to lighten the stress. We also had a few snow bridges to cross, which freaks you out when you look down into an ice cave that can be hundreds of feet deep - this is where rope spacing is super important because if someone falls in, you need to be spaced out so the rope tightens quickly and you can get into arrest position.

I believe by about 8am we were pulling into our final break at 13,500. We made a slight detour to the right (north) around some huge cracks that added an estimated 45 minutes to the climb, but I still felt strong. I started to feel a little hypoxic, but nothing compared to what I felt on Elbrus. It also makes a big difference when you know what hypoxia feels like so you can decipher between being hypoxic and truly being in trouble (HAPE, AMS, HACE, etc...) - I feel this is where my experience on higher mountains helped.

After we fueled up with more cookies, drinks, protein, etc..., Linden walked around, gave everyone a fist pump, pointed towards the summit, and we were ready to roll. At this point the sun was out and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, but with the wind picking up as we went higher and hypoxia setting in, it still felt as if it was getting colder. We crossed over another ice bridge onto a saddle between the actual summit (Columbia Crest) and another higher part of Rainier (Rainier has 3 high points around the crater rim). At this point I could see the trail to the summit and it was by far the steepest part of the climb. As easily as I got to 13,500, the mountain decided to fight back. The mountain never, ever, let's things be easy! The hard part about climbing is one thing leads to another - first your rest stepping form goes, then you try to power climb, which in turn gases you out, then your rhythm goes, then you screw up the rope spacing. Like a good guide will do, Linden turned around and hounded me about my form probably 4-5 times in the last 500 feet, but I just couldn't get my feet to do what my mind was telling them to do! At this point my heart rate rose to what it normally does on summit day, but I could see the summit was only 30 minutes or so away.....

I've often told people that regardless of your athletic ability, at some point on summit day the mountain won't care what shape you are in, how many miles you can run, how much weight you can lift, what sports you played in college, or what mountains you have climbed in the past. Inevitably, amateur climbers will have to rely on heart to get them to the top - that's why you always hear climbers say "one foot in front of the other," because that's all your brain can make your body do at that point. Those who have been there, understand. As strong as I felt up to 13,500, Mt. Rainier was now sending me a friendly reminder of who the real boss will always be. You start thinking about all the hours training, all the driving (to the mountains), all the junk food and beer you gave up, being flown off the last mountain you were on, and how badly you want that summit picture - and you push through. Step, breath, step, breath, step, breath, step, breath. With every step, the summit got closer and FINALLY at around 9am Pacific time, on Tuesday, July 27th, the entire group stepped on top of Rainier together!! We joined 1-2 other groups already on the summit and started snapping pictures. After about 5 minutes of picture taking, we descended about 30 feet to the registry and all added our names. It's one of those cheesy mountain things you do, but unless you make the top, you don't get to sign!

Given the mental effort you exert, every summit is always emotional. That, coupled with the physical challenge, is probably why I keep going back for more. It always amazes me what kind of shape the guides are in, because without doing this everyday, it's almost impossible to become as efficient as them. I think their bodies are more machine than human sometimes.

When I got back, one of my co-workers asked me what it's like mentally while I'm actually climbing - if the thrill of reaching the top, if the thrill of getting that summit picture made all the struggle worth it. My answer, in a word, was undoubtedly "Yes." If you read any summit post by a climber, they always talk about how close they were to quitting during the 4th-7th hours of climbing on summit day. As you are climbing, especially on summit day when it's tough to use your IPOD to take your mind off of things, you wonder why you do it, why you put yourself through the pain, why take the risk with such a dangerous activity, why put your family through the stress/worry? Then you step on top and, bar none, ALL your questions are answered. The feeling of accomplishment is like none other that you can experience in your day-to-day life.

Just as strong as the rush is, you immediately have to refocus. Descending a mountain is the most dangerous part - now you are tired, your legs feel like wet noodles, you feel like you have had a few beers from the hypoxia, your focus, concentration, and intensity have waned, and yet you have to descend 3,000 - 4,000, or in Rainier's case 5,000, feet safely. So, as soon as the calls were made, the texts sent, the water chugged, and the food woofed down, Linden had us roped up and we began the truly dangerous part of mountain climbing. Most people forget reaching the summit is only half way.

After about 3 - 3.5 hours of sliding and duck walking down 5,000 feet of slushy, soft snow, the entire team pulled into high camp safe and sound. Most of the climbers immediately tore their backpacks off, unhooked their crampons, took their boots off, and sat down. Hot drinks and food were fired up and you feel this incredible sense of calm and relaxation. You accomplished your goal and did it safely.

I went to my tent to change and relax. Unfortunately, I got one shoe off and decided sleeping would be more fun. My tent mate got a great picture of me laying half in the tent with my legs hanging out, one tennis shoe on and one Spantek climbing boot on, and I'm sound asleep. I get the best sleep after I touch the summit.

That night we all ate a good meal together, rehashed summit day, and enjoyed the last night on the mountain with perfect weather. Thankfully I slept during the day because my Thermorest was punctured in the middle of the night! This left me sleeping on hard, cold ice, which led to an incredibly sore back the next morning and me waking up in the middle of the night shivering. However, it didn't matter. It's amazing what becomes irrelevant the night after you touched the top.

The next day we hiked the 5 hours out to the trail head, which included glissading down the 2,000 foot Inter Glacier - it's always fun sliding down on your butt rather than climbing down. Your knees thank you! A quick 45-minute van ride from the trail head back to Ashford and the team was having celebratory beers and receiving our certificates. Two hours in, it was time to go our separate ways. Me to Atlanta, Brian to Phoenix, Mike to Charlotte, Bill & Bret to New Orleans, Gerard & Bruce to NY, and Willie to DC. A successful trip is as much about the people you meet as the climb itself and we had a good group of climbers and guides. I'm sure some will climb together again someday.

So what's next?

In the immediate future is some rest. The knees, toes, and quads need some time to recover. Ill be taking a month off from training to regroup and probably be away from the blog until September 1st. Doing this Rainier trip was one of the best climbing decisions I've made and I feel even better prepared now for future expeditions. Furthermore, now that Rainier is done, I can start to really turn my attention and talk about the pink elephant in the room....

For those that have followed my climbs over the last few years you know I have an itch that needs to be scratched. Something eating me up inside. "It" happens to lie in the Andes Mountains in Argentina, stands 22,841 feet tall, and I KNOW is ready to show me who's boss.

ACONCAGUA - BRING IT ON!!

The countdown to January 9th, 2011 has officially started! Talk to everyone in a month!

Onward and upward,

SZ