Gramercy Summits Mount Rainier July/2009
After doing a couple hundred burpees in our 100 Day Burpee Challenge, I have to admit they beat me. Chewed me up and spit me out. (Actually Pam was complaining that the floors in the house couldn't take it.)
To save face, I decided to climb a mountain - the biggest one in Washington - Mt Rainier. Don't worry - I didn't take the easy way out on Rainier (i.e. the route that an NFL commissioner may have taken). Instead we choose the Kautz Glacier route, not just an uphill slog, but also a technical ice climb. The Kautz seemed to be an appropriate penance for not doing the burpees - 9000 ft vertical in 3 days, 11 miles round trip, extreme physical pain, an oxygen deprived environment and the chance of getting hit by refrigerator sized blocks of ice! I hope Gramercy newsletter readers can forgive me.
On this hike, I joined my good friends, Chris Figgins and Ben Leitch, who coincidently know a bit about Walla Walla wine (if yo udon't know those names, definitely look them up), and the amazing John Race of NW Mountaineering, who led our expedition.
Day 1: Mt Rainier welcomed us with fog and mist all the way from the parking lot at 5,400 ft to our first camp, on the glacier in a cloud, at 6,500 ft. We only climbed for about 90 minutes and spent the rest of the day practicing walking with metal spikes attached to our feet and making holes in our $350 designer alpine snow pants.
Day 2: We woke up to hot oatmeal and cowboy coffee which, at that hour and that altitude, went down like the egg custard and truffle course at The French Laundry and a glass of '78 Mascarello Barolo. I knew this would be a tough day, as we would climb to 9,400 ft at about 1,000 ft per hour, up steep snow and ice sections. We arrived at approximately 2:00 pm and set up camp. We planned to take the rest of the afternoon/night off and climb to 10,500 ft the next morning. Just as I was beginning to relax and settle in, John Race announced new plans. Given the weather forecast for the next morning and the strength of our team thus far, he was pushing up the schedule. Not only were we going to attempt the summit from 9,400 ft (not the usual 10,700 ft start), but we would be starting late that night to reach the summit at sunrise. So, without further ado, the team ate dinner and was in bed at 6:00 pm.
Summit Day, technically still day 2 as we departed camp: At 11:30 pm I woke up to John's cheerful call (more like a cackle at 11:30pm....). I was praying to hear something along the lines of "You're been Punk'd! Go back to sleep" but instead he told us to get ready. So on with the cold weather gear, headlamps, harness and crampons, carefully considering every ounce packed. The rest of our gear would stay in camp. Over the next 6 hours, we made our way up the glacier and, emerging from one particularly nasty section called the "ice wall," we were able to see the rim of the crater for the first time. It looked to be about 1000 ft above. I remember thinking that the climb to that point was more exhilarating (ie wet-your-pants-scary) than physically demanding and that the last thousand feet would be fairly enjoyable. About an hour later, I ate my words. When you climb at altitude, you don't walk at a normal pace in a normal stride. You take a very small step, a breath and then another small step...and so on. In my delirium, I decided to name our next wine Sysiphus. About 400 ft below the crater rim, we could see another group ahead of us on the rim. We had been seeing their headlamps above us all night. Almost done. Mentally I knew that I just had to keep in lock step with the rest of the group and we'd be there in no time. Finally, we arrived at the rim. As John told us to put our packs down, I was thoroughly excited and mentally spent. My excitement diminished dramatically, however, when John announced that the REAL summit was 1000 yards around the rim, up another 200 ft. This was my real penance during the trip - those last few thousand yards. Maybe it's not burpees that are the devil - maybe it's John Race?? Fortunately, my team all made it to the summit at 14, 410 ft. (That's 11,528 bottles of Gramercy Syrah stacked on top of each other.) At that moment, a lot of things went through my head. I was realizing a personal dream that helped me redefine my own capabilities. Looking to Gramercy's fifth harvest this year, I felt a sense of pride about all the hard work that we have put into Gramercy and the path that we are on now thanks to support from you, our loyal customers.
After about 45 minutes of pictures, high fives and a joyful tear or two, we began our descent. All I have to say is, down is FAR more intense than up. That mountain is steep. And the snow and ice don't exactly lend themselves to "surefootedness." It is a very unnerving feeling to walk down a 40 degree sheet of ice attached by a rope to 4 other people, praying that no one slips. The addition of a 200 ft rappel didn't help either. We arrived back in camp about 3:00 pm and spent the rest of the day sleeping and eating. The next morning we made our way back down to Paradise, smelling like rotten mountain goats. Overall, this was one of the most incredible experiences of my life.
If you're interested, I posted pictures at the Gramercy Facebook page:
Rainier - Kautz Glacier Route
Next year I think I'll go to Hawaii....maybe for the Ironman.