I've done the impossible and pulled myself away from an intense Olympics viewing schedule to write a post on last weekend's Mt. Baker climb. I'll give an assist in this endeavour to NBC, as the only live sport I could find this morning was archery and my interest in the competitors' high-tech, transformer-like bows waned after about thirty minutes. (I was, however, reminded of my time in Japan, where it is common to see Tokyo teenagers riding the subway with archery gear slung over their shoulders.)
So, Mt. Baker: 10,781 feet of glaciated volcanic rock located in the North Cascades of Washington State. For around five hours we trudged slowly up one of its glaciers -- the Easton -- to its summit, where I proceeded to lie on the snow lifeless for minutes before reviving myself with a litre of fruit punch gatorade and posing happily for summit photos.
I've been thinking about it a lot and I'm now prepared to say that my extreme exhaustion on the climb -- which I'll detail later -- had absolutely nothing to do with my general sedentary lifestyle over the past couple of months. No, it was the fact that I was forced to carry a pack nearly 10 pounds (read: maybe 6 or 7 lbs) heavier than Ellen and Paul. Why? Because I'm the only person who thought it would be a good idea to bring along group safety gear in addition to personal items. It was all very reminiscent of last year's trip to the Grand Canyon, when Paul and I descended passed a female hiker. Paul walked by first and the woman observed, "That's a big backpack you're carrying." Then I walked by. "Oh, wow, yours is much bigger." Greatest moment of my life.
After a gear check and pack weighing we drove early morning to Schriebers Meadow parking lot, which sits around 3300 feet. From there we ascended another 3000 feet via a hiking trail that, by late July, was mostly melted out. This, unfortunately, led to one semi-dicey river crossing, though, thankfully, none of us required a "Lord of the Rings"-style toss (detailed here).
Eventually we arrived at Sandy Camp, where we pitched our tent and prepared for the next morning's assault on the mountain. (Why "Sandy" Camp? Apparently because when the snow melts it's very sandy; but, seeing as how Mt. Baker gets some of the most snow in the North Cascades, it's not clear if that ever happens.)
Next: The climb. Up at 6:00 a.m., walking by 7:30, and, about 4500 feet and four-and-a-half hours later, we were sitting on the summit. We broke the climb into three sections: First, we ascended the snow field just to viewer's right of the rock rib seen leading up from camp. Next, we roped up for glacier travel and followed the glacier to the summit's volcanic crater and the base of the "Roman Wall" -- i.e., the notch that exists between the two summit-like peaks of Mt. Baker's south face. And, finally, we ascended the Roman Wall -- the snow face to viewer's left of the notch -- first to the false summit and then across the summit snow field to the top.
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Here is a video of the final section courtesy of Paul and his pretty awesome HD camera:
And, finally, to preserve my blogging integrity, I suppose that I have to mention the complete despair I felt on the ascent. We completed the climb roundtrip in a fairly quick seven hours. That, however, was no thanks to me. We undertook the climb on a very clear, sunny day and, while that made for nice photos, it made the glacier extremely hot. Spending the hottest part of the day on a glacier up high -- where the sun reflects off everything and beats on you for hours -- is generally no fun. I made the mistake of keeping on an extra layer after a break (during which time you cool considerably) and ended up overheating during the second leg of the ascent. By the time we arrived at the summit crater my legs were cramping rather terribly and I was feeling pretty awful. (I'm now claiming I suffered through hyperthermia, but who knows.) The result: the first time I've entertained the thought of quitting on a mountain. But we slowed the pace a little for the final push, increased my fluids, and, eventually, I came back to life. Then I mustered a smile for the summit photo and led the charge back down to camp.
So, Mt. Baker: 10,781 feet of glaciated volcanic rock located in the North Cascades of Washington State. For around five hours we trudged slowly up one of its glaciers -- the Easton -- to its summit, where I proceeded to lie on the snow lifeless for minutes before reviving myself with a litre of fruit punch gatorade and posing happily for summit photos.
I've been thinking about it a lot and I'm now prepared to say that my extreme exhaustion on the climb -- which I'll detail later -- had absolutely nothing to do with my general sedentary lifestyle over the past couple of months. No, it was the fact that I was forced to carry a pack nearly 10 pounds (read: maybe 6 or 7 lbs) heavier than Ellen and Paul. Why? Because I'm the only person who thought it would be a good idea to bring along group safety gear in addition to personal items. It was all very reminiscent of last year's trip to the Grand Canyon, when Paul and I descended passed a female hiker. Paul walked by first and the woman observed, "That's a big backpack you're carrying." Then I walked by. "Oh, wow, yours is much bigger." Greatest moment of my life.
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| Not impressed with my pack weight. |
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| On the march. |
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| Same. |
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| Following the "Railroad Grade," the final leg of the hike before camp. |
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| Railroad Grade. |
Eventually we arrived at Sandy Camp, where we pitched our tent and prepared for the next morning's assault on the mountain. (Why "Sandy" Camp? Apparently because when the snow melts it's very sandy; but, seeing as how Mt. Baker gets some of the most snow in the North Cascades, it's not clear if that ever happens.)
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| Camp. Easton Glacier and the false summit of Mt. Baker in the background. |
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| Ellen keeping a watchful eye. |
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| Her view. |
Next: The climb. Up at 6:00 a.m., walking by 7:30, and, about 4500 feet and four-and-a-half hours later, we were sitting on the summit. We broke the climb into three sections: First, we ascended the snow field just to viewer's right of the rock rib seen leading up from camp. Next, we roped up for glacier travel and followed the glacier to the summit's volcanic crater and the base of the "Roman Wall" -- i.e., the notch that exists between the two summit-like peaks of Mt. Baker's south face. And, finally, we ascended the Roman Wall -- the snow face to viewer's left of the notch -- first to the false summit and then across the summit snow field to the top.
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| Paul on the glacier. |
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| Moving upward. |
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| Volcanic crater below the summit. |
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| Base of the Roman Wall. |
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| Summit snowfield. |
Here is a video of the final section courtesy of Paul and his pretty awesome HD camera:
And, finally, to preserve my blogging integrity, I suppose that I have to mention the complete despair I felt on the ascent. We completed the climb roundtrip in a fairly quick seven hours. That, however, was no thanks to me. We undertook the climb on a very clear, sunny day and, while that made for nice photos, it made the glacier extremely hot. Spending the hottest part of the day on a glacier up high -- where the sun reflects off everything and beats on you for hours -- is generally no fun. I made the mistake of keeping on an extra layer after a break (during which time you cool considerably) and ended up overheating during the second leg of the ascent. By the time we arrived at the summit crater my legs were cramping rather terribly and I was feeling pretty awful. (I'm now claiming I suffered through hyperthermia, but who knows.) The result: the first time I've entertained the thought of quitting on a mountain. But we slowed the pace a little for the final push, increased my fluids, and, eventually, I came back to life. Then I mustered a smile for the summit photo and led the charge back down to camp.