We made the Island Fitness Reader Board!

Thanks Michael!

It still doesn't feel real.

:)

Our Summiting Story - Mt. Rainier

How do we begin writing a description of this experience? How can we possibly describe the smells, the cold air, the depth of a crevasse, the fluffy clouds, the snow flurries, the crunch of the ice under our crampons, the camaraderie, the anxiety, the uncontrollable laughter, the flavor of quite possibly the best burrito ever tasted... How do you begin to describe it?

We’ll do our best…

Saturday, August 16^th

We picked up Tom and left the island around 12:15pm, heading to Mt. Rainier National Park - conversing about low-carb diets and Michael Phelps. When stopping for gas or a bathroom break, Tom was certain to get in a bit of yoga. Smart Man!

Lunch was at Black Bear Diner – a lodge style restaurant with bear décor and friendly faces. There was some confusion with our sandwich order, so our waitress gave us a free blackberry cobbler. Unfortunately, we were too full to eat it after lunch, so had it to go.

We arrived at Mt. Rainier National Park, checked in to the National Park Inn at Longmire, where we settled in a room shared with Tom. It felt like we were in Louisiana! The weather was overcast and the humidity thick. There was a tiny window fan in our room that we moved to various locations to help circulate the air. It helped a little. There was a nice oscillating fan in the hallway just outside of our room. I noticed Tom eyeing it, but he hadn’t grabbed it… yet.





Yes - This is a coffee maker! A floating coffee maker?

































Dinner reservations at the inn were at 6:45pm, so we walked around the inn, viewed the transportation museum and stared in awe at the mountain we would climb in 2 days. Dinner consisted of a salad and good conversation. We continued our Michael Phelps’ conversation from earlier in the day – discussion of his 12,000 calorie a day menu, which does not consist of eggs benedict. I must apologize for the plethora of eggs benedict references in this submission (see Mt. Baker submission below for details). We goofed off and laughed until our guts hurt – playing with the bear salt and pepper shakers. Below is our imitation of Vern with a full water bladder.




















We asked to see a breakfast menu – and guess what was the 4^th item on the list… you guessed it! Eggs benedict. Yuck! I’m not sure I’ll be able to enjoy eggs benedict ever again!

After dinner, we headed to our room to change and prep for a good night’s sleep. We each had a little room left in our bellies after dinner, so we had a few bites of the ginormous blackberry cobbler from earlier in the day. After my 2^nd bite of cobbler, I noticed a nice breeze every 8 seconds blowing in my hair. Tom had switched the small window fan with the oscillating fan in the hallway - - - HA! HA! Time to brush our teeth (to remove all of those blackberry seeds) and rest in bed.

We didn’t sleep well at all. Despite sneaking in the oscillating fan, the room’s temperature was incredibly warm. By the time we did get some rest, it was time to get up and get our butts in gear to meet the group!

Sunday, August 17th

This picture is for our trainer, Michael. No eggs benedict. We wanted to make you proud by having a worthy breakfast of oatmeal, 2 poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice!

We met our team at Jackson Center (which looks like a space ship or a stout version of the Space Needle) at 9am – ready to hike! The entire group arrived before the Alpine Ascents crew. We thought the guides would be impressed with our diligence. The air was cool, the sky was overcast, and it started to drizzle, but the group was anxious and ready to go.

It was time to meet our guides:

Garrett we know and love. A very patient man with the greatest yellow boots and a heart of gold.

We met Lhakpa Gelu Sherpa - an incredible man indeed! He has summited Mt. Everest 13 times and holds the world record for the fastest ascent of Mt. Everest (10 hours, 56 minutes, and 46 seconds). The day before (Saturday, August 16), Lhakpa attempted to beat the Mt. Rainier ascent time of 4 hours, 46 minutes, and 29 seconds, currently held by Liam O'Sullivan.

Meaghan Loughlin (Yeah – I wasn’t the only female in the group!) is in love with Alaska. She spends most of her time in Denali (aka Mt. McKinley).

And we are told that Stuart, our 4^th guide, was already on the mountain waiting for us at Camp Muir. Stuart was holding an ice axe at the age of 6, scouting the mountains at a very early age. It was an honor to be in the presence of such accomplished climbers.

It's one last pit stop for us, then it is off to hike to Camp Muir. The good news is that most of our group did this exact hike 2 weeks prior, so the nervous energy was not there for most us . Many started in trail shoes and hiked for 2 miles until we had to change into our snow boots.

The hike to Camp Muir presented numerous weather patterns. We experienced sunshine, hurricane force winds (well, at least a tropical storm), and pelting rain.













But we still had to apply - and reapply - sunscreen!

The last leg of our journey to Camp Muir consisted of partially frozen slush. Crampons would have been nice, but we managed to get to the dirt path leading to our destination without fail (or fall).

We arrived at Camp Muir around 4pm and started what would be an eventful evening. We were instructed to leave all “sharps” outside (ice axes, crampons, and trekking poles), and bring the remainder of our gear into a 12x12 hut of plywood and 2x4 bunks.

The toilet was just a few feet away – with the most undesirable smell of ammonia you can imagine. At least there was an attempt to mask the odor with the classic tree scented rear-view mirror hanger at each corner of the outhouse. However, the most bizarre part of the toilet experience was a fork (Now, not a plastic fork, but one that might come from your mom’s china set.) sitting on the windowsill inside one of the outhouses. Sorry for not taking more photos of the toilet. It’s an image we’d rather not reflect upon.

Once we were unpacked and settled, it was time to head to the Alpine Ascents meal tent for dinner – burritos (with refried beans!). We joked and laughed while Garrett shared details on proper helmet and harness placement and discussed the timeline of events for the evening and next day. You could hear the “yums” from our team as we devoured hard earned calories.

Our tummy’s stuffed, Garrett said to head back to the hut and each strap on the harness and helmet, and he would be by at 6pm to make sure that everything fit and adjusted properly. 6pm came and went… but that didn’t stop our team from having the greatest time of the entire trip!

You can imagine with the combination of high altitude, the anxiety of what is to come, the struggles that come with putting on and adjusting a harness, - - all leading to uncontrollable laughter.

A few great jokes come to mind, while others I cannot share on this public blog. Some are better left at Camp Muir and in our memory.

Garrett finally came to our rescue, confirmed all gear was a go, and tucked us into bed – like a good guide should.

Sleeping arrangements were as follows:

Top bunk: Richie, Michele, Vern

Top bunk by the window: Michael

Bottom bunk: Tom, Eric, Tim, and Adam

The night was restful for some, but not for others. Despite the sleep, most of us encountered someone else farting (refried beans!), the slamming of the door handle (a large bar), trampling for a bathroom break, snoring, rotating bodies, and headlamps.

My fondest memories of the night were the glow-in-the dark star and moon stickers strategically placed on the plywood above our heads and the brightness and erratic flash of lighting seen through the window.

Monday, August 18^th

We were all awake by the time Garrett stopped in to greet us with a “Good morning, Guys.” His clothing suggestions for the day included soft shell pants, base layer top with soft shell jacket, and normal gear (boots, gaiters, glacier glasses, warm hat).

Here is our route to the summit (image courtesy of RMI).

We restuffed our sleeping bags and loaded our packs, then it was off to the meal tent for breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and tire-size blueberry pancakes.

Today was spent resting a bit, but also learning the basics of maneuvering in the snow – aka: Snow School.

We learned to properly “duck walk” uphill...








and walk “like grandpa smashing cans” downhill.


















The weather was playing tricks on us all morning. Sunny and beautiful one minute, pouring buckets the next. In between teaching techniques, we found ourselves in the meal tent drinking hot beverages and chatting about our lives.



Garrett even read us a story!

Our discussions included wonderful stories of previous careers (from working with kids to fisherman and lab rats, to bodies falling from chicken heads and dreams of a business in Alaska).

The weather finally cooperated and we were able to finish our snow school – learning all the valuable information needed before heading any further than Camp Muir: crampon and rope techniques, how to properly and safely use the ice axe, and especially how to self-arrest if falling down a 4,000 foot drop.

We aren't really mountaineers... but we play them on TV!

Around noon, we strapped on our packs and roped up (already wearing crampons, harnesses, and helmets), and headed to high camp via large crevasses and potential rock and ice falls. Our destination: The Flats on Ingraham Glacier at 11,200 feet.

At the last minute, we had learned that Tim had decided to stay back at Camp Muir with Stuart (our 4^th guide). Tim’s decision shocked us, but it was a decision we respected.

After the 1 hour and 15 minute trek across an 8-inch path with winds blowing us over, we were at high camp. We were instructed to again remove all sharps and get settled in our tents. After 30 minutes of decorating our home, Michael approaches our tent to say there are 2 people heading up to high camp – it looks like Tim and Stuart.

We all rushed out of our tents – in our “big puffies,” as Tim trademarked. And sure enough, it was Tim and Stuart. It was just like a scene from a movie… seeing a man approach the finish (overcoming a fear) and his teammates at the finish line waiting to greet and congratulate him. It was a joy to have our entire team at high camp.

There was some uncertainty about what the next few hours would bring. The weather patterns were shifting back and forth. As our guide Meaghan said – "The weather changes every hour in the mountains." There was discussion of a sunset summit - where we head to the top of the mountain late afternoon and descend in the dark (with headlamps, of course.) While eating dinner (pasta, chicken, and parmesan cheese), Garrett says we are sticking to our original plan of a sunrise climb.

Just a side note: The toilet at high camp was a private 6x6 snow cavity with a 5 gallon bucket, plastic toilet seat cover, and the best views of Glacier Peak (pictured below). The “pee hole” was a thin, deep tunnel formed by previous and current high camp tenants. The thought “don’t eat the yellow snow” comes to mind.

That evening, we also learned that Tim and Tom were going to stay at high camp. An incredible journey for both of them. Congratulations Guys!

Just some wonderful photos of Garrett and Lhakpa - had to share!

It’s time to lie in our tents and get as much rest as possible.

Tent assignments:

Michele, Richie, and Tim

Adam and Eric

Michael, Tom, and Vern

Sleep was difficult and intermittent.

It was somewhere between 9pm and 1am (I was only aware of the time because I know it is dark between 9pm and 1am..)... A dream of our team getting caught in an avalanche forced me to jolt from my sleeping bag. The rest of the evening was spent dozing in and out. There were both beautiful and frightening sounds just outside our tent… Sounds I’ve never heard before – crevasses cracking and rock and ice falls, while the wind would whip our tents.

Tuesday, August 19^th

We woke up at 12:45am only to discover that Tim did not sleep at all. 15 minutes later, we hear Garrett just outside of our tents greeting us with clothing recommendations. While dressing, we hear 3 climbers pass camp, asking about routes. Our guides kindly gave advice and the 3 climbers were off. We watched their headlamps glide up Disappointment Cleaver.

It was a light, quick breakfast of oatmeal and nutri-grain bars. We also prepped hot drinks for our summit climb.

At 2:30am, we grab our light packs, put on crampons, helmets, grab ice axes, and head off to the summit.

Our first task was to cross numerous Ingraham crevasses, then the most challenging part of our climb - Disappointment Cleaver. We would usually have a break every hour, but were not able to on Disappointment Cleaver due to the dangers of rock falls, so we spent 1 hour and 45 minutes climbing over enormous boulders, and maneuvering through small rocks in mounds and mounds of ice filled dust while wearing crampons. I hate all things Cleaver… Meat Cleaver, Ward Cleaver, June Cleaver, Wally Cleaver, even Beaver Cleaver, and especially Disappointment Cleaver! Thank goodness it was over – for now.

From our break at the top of Disappointment Cleaver, we had 2.5 hours to the summit. We were being followed by another guided group. It was neat to see the caterpillar of headlamps moving along the snow behind us.

The hike to the summit was slow and steady… one foot in front of the other… rest stepping… and pressure breathing. We crossed crevasses, walked about 100 feet on an 8-inch ledge with a 4,000 foot drop on the left (Okay, maybe not 4,000 feet - but it sure looked that way!) and a wall of snow and ice on the right.

We also experienced crossing a crevasse via ladder. This was a very scary task for a few of our teammates. Let’s see if I can describe this… (Fellow T2Cers, let me know if this is a good description)…

At about 13,900 feet, we approached a very large crevasse, with depths of at least 500+ feet, and an opening of 5 feet (which doesn’t sound like a lot, but it is when you look down!), and no alternative route but to cross the ladder.

Approximately 2 feet before the ladder was a 4-foot tall snow stake (not to be confused with a scrumptious steak) pounded into the snow with 6 inches protruding from the snow with a caribiner attached. Our instructions were to place our rope in the caribiner for extra protection in case we slipped and fell down the 4,000 foot drop to our left (more like 500 feet). I was the last person on the last rope, and had to unclip from the snow stake – trusting Richie and Meaghan to help me if I began to fall.

Now back to the ladder experience. The ladder was about 5 feet long – just long enough to fit perfectly in the crevasse opening. The ladder was secured to the edges of the crevasse with snow screws, rope tied taught, and two 6-inch boards covering the horizontal steps of the ladder. There was another thin rope, again secured in the crevasse by ice screws, just to the side of the ladder, which served as a “railing.” To reach this rope railing, you were required to bend over and grab the rope. It was an exhilarating experience – and we’d have to cross it again on the way down!

Just after our final break, and close to the summit, I was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t catch my breath. We were almost to the top and I was beginning to feel nauseated – probably from the jitters of finally being so close! (We later discovered that most of our teammates were a tad nauseated, possibly from the sulfur release from an active volcano!) I had to stop quite a few times to catch my breath and bring myself back into "the zone." Meaghan was an incredible guide – staying positive and encouraging the entire trek.

On my last stop, she said “Do you see that little yellow flag in front of Garrett? That’s the summit.” She said “We can slow down, but we are only 3 switchbacks from that yellow flag.” I was excited and scared all at the same time. We were only 10 minutes from the summit, 10 minutes from what we’ve been training and working for these last 6 months. While all these emotions are flying through my head, I hear Meaghan say “Okay, here we go!” And before I knew it, I was even with the yellow flag and heading DOWN into the crater of Mt. Rainier. Holy $h!t! While Meaghan was wrapping our ropes, I looked at her and said “Meaghan, I think I love you. Thanks for the encouragement.”

We made it! In this photo, I'm the last person on the rope. I had just slipped into a hole made by the one and only Vern... the official snow-hole puncher!



I dropped my pack, looked at Richie and gave him the greatest hug with the energy I had left. I felt relieved, exhausted, and had the desire to just start balling (crying). A great hug!

I needed a sip of water, chewed a few Shot Blocks, and prepared to cross the football field crater to the summit registry. We signed our names in “the book,” and walked up, again, another 10 minutes to the true summit, where we snapped photos with the Island Fitness Train to Climb banner, and hugged each other with great pride.

Climbing to the "true summit."




















And here we are... 14,410 feet! Yippee!



















Michael Rosenthal - whom I must thank for taking over 550 photos of our journey. This trip was the first time I've ever seen him laugh uncontrollably. It was a great sight! Many thanks to Tom and Vern for sharing their photographs, too!

This experience was worth every step, every breath, every tear, and every thought of “What the hell am I doing?” There was definitely a great sadness in leaving the summit, but some joy in knowing that I was feeling great and capable of descending “in-style.” (A quick note: During our snow school, our guides really emphasized the importance of the summit just being half-way, and how you must be able to mentally and physically make it back down safely or “in-style.”)









































The views were incredible and I was so proud of our team for working so hard to get here. Just when you think you can't... You Can!

After the photo shoot and a few minutes of rest, it was time to head back down. We would not take a break until Disappointment Cleaver.

I’ve got to share with you that I was getting cramps in my hand from the death grip on my ice axe. All I could hear was Stuart (who was down at high camp, by the way) whispering in my ear “I’m not going to feel sorry for you if you lose your ice axe. You must have control of this tool the entire time. I’ve seen folks die!” Luckily by the time my hand began to cramp, we’d hit a switchback, and I was able to swap hands. Whew!

Here is the infamous ladder across the crevasse - - eek!








And the 8-inch ledge with the 4,000 foot drop! (Sorry, about 500 feet.)






We reached the Cleaver… Urgh, The Cleaver… and grabbed a sip of water and a snack. We could just barely see our high camp.















































Even going down The Cleaver was yucky! I stayed positive and actually ended up laughing and talking almost the entire way down. The coolest part about descending The Cleaver was seeing little tiny snow flakes, seeing Tim, Tom and Stuart standing around the tents at high camp (They looked like little G.I. Joe dolls or those tiny green soldiers that you play with as a kid… I swear I could have just picked one of them up and starting going “p-chu, p-chu, p-chu.”) , hearing one of our teammates below letting out this big “Yippee!” and we could actually hear them! (Thanks Tom!)! And of course, getting off The Cleaver was the greatest feeling.

Coming out of the fog, we had about 15 minutes at high camp to pack all of our gear (anything we didn't bring to the summit - sleeping bags, sleeping pads, extra clothes and food, bowls, cups, etc.). The guides warned us not to get into our sleeping bags (as tempting as it was). If we did, we owed them MORA ice cream. I gotta tell you – it was almost worth the risk! We were pretty tired. Once we got more food and water in us, we were ready to go.

Tom calls this photo: "Richie and Michele doing the Summit Salsa."

We flew down to Camp Muir (No helicopters or wings... just a fast pace.), passing those same dangerous potential rock and ice falls we ran across the day before. The sun was out and warm, but the wind was still chilly. By this time, the avalanche beacon attached to me was bugging the crud out of me, and I was ready to rid of half of the gear.

A view of Disappointment Cleaver from high camp. Note: We did not take the snow field that you see in this photo. We actually climbed "the spine" of The Cleaver.

While waiting for our teammates to remove their climbing gear and organize their packs, we watched as other teams approached Camp Muir – with the same anxious faces we wore just a few days before. I was hoping the weather would be nice for their adventure and that they too would remain strong throughout the climb and make a lifetime of memories.

Our descent to Paradise was cloudy and slushy. I didn’t recall the descent from Camp Muir to Paradise being soooo long… a mere 4 miles. We were all in good spirits and kept each other laughing and smiling all the way down.

Just below Pebble Creek, we were greeted with smiles and hugs from Tori (our pseudo Mom), Parker (her son), Julie (Vern’s wife and a 2006 Train to Climb Alumni), and Melanie and kiddos (Adam’s family).

Unfortunately, Richie and I didn’t have family to greet us at the bottom, but we were still welcomed with congratulations, open arms, champagne, beer, cherries, and most importantly – chocolate! (Who could ask for anything more?!?!?!)

I must say there was one disturbing thing about our first steps back in the “real world.” Just outside Paradise Inn, where we dropped our packs, there was a lady sitting on a log bench smoking a cigarette. I looked at Richie and said “Can we go back up the mountain, please?”

After another photo shoot, gear return, toasts, smiles and giggles, it was time for a shower, real food, and sleep. The last mile to Paradise was on asphalt, which took a huge toll on my little toes. I was afraid to take my boots off until we were in our room. (Turns out I lost toenails on both of my little toes.)

We said our goodbyes and congratulations and headed upstairs. We decided to meet Tom, Vern, and Julie downstairs at Paradise Inn for dinner. Our meal: Buffalo meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and veggies. We split a pint of Moose Drool (it’s beer) and a piece of cheesecake. Our waiter said, "I can tell you guys just got off the mountain."

By this time, it was 7pm. Richie fell right asleep, but I stayed wide-awake for the next two hours while my legs had a fit. They were twitching – I felt as though I could run a marathon. My mind was scrambling, recalling the events of the last 3 days. After 2 hours of stretching, my body and mind were ready to snooze.

Wednesday, August 20th

We were up at 7am, packed our luggage, loaded the car, and met Tom, Julie and Vern for breakfast. I don’t normally eat bacon, but devoured 6 strips of it that morning. We also inhaled eggs, pancakes, hashbrowns, and fruit. (No eggs benedict.)

By 9am, we were on the road again – heading back to Bainbridge Island. Thankfully, I had a massage scheduled that evening, and my body was able to recover pretty quickly from the 3 day climb.

It’s Tuesday, August 25th…. one week exactly of our summit of Mt. Rainier. There have been at least 30 emails between our teammates expressing accomplishment and a question of “What’s next?” Some of us aren’t ready to store our boots and packs, while others have already put up the garage sale signs.

It is hard to explain to our family and friends our experience on the mountain. It is a place of great solitude, struggle, and accomplishment. It is a humbling place and an emotional journey. It is a place only a few thousand people experience a year – and we will never view the mountain the same again.

We love this place!