Emmons #2Another account and perspective of our 2002 Mt. Rainier climb by Corby, a pastor and friend. Everyday we do many things that are such a part of our normal routine that we file the memories away and seldom revisit them. Though our routines are where we are most comfortable, stepping out of them and doing something uncomfortable can often make an impact in your life that you will never forget. For me, climbing Mt. Rainier this year was one of those uncomfortable, unforgettable, and life impacting experiences. Proverbs 29:18 Tells us that where there is no vision people perish. Of course, that also tells us that if we have a vision, we will flourish. A couple years ago, I had a desire (or vision) to climb Mt. Rainier. Having been a very active climber in my teens, including Mt. Rainier at age 13, I thought I had a realistic view of what it would take to accomplish this vision at age 43. At about 7000 feet in route to Camp Muir, I encountered a new reality and soon came to a changed view of what it would take to accomplish this task. I managed to grind it out to Camp Muir, but the following morning brought yet another lesson in reality. At 11,000 feet, after scrambling around on loose rocks with crampons, I reached the Ingraham Flats and absolutely could go no further. This moment rated in the top ten of the worst moments of my life. I was physically a wreck and emotionally in shambles. To add to my shame and humiliation, my collapse required Brian Kenison to abandon his ascent and go back down with me. With my vision now destroyed, ego smashed, and body ill, I slowly worked my way back down to Camp Muir. As I pondered over all that was before me, I realized that there were two directions I could go with all this. I could decide that I would never try this again and tell myself I was crazy for trying or I could build a new vision and prepare for it with my new found understanding of what preparation it would take to accomplish it. My final decision was to begin building a new vision to return to the mountain and successfully climb it. Once this decision was made, I became obsessed with the new vision. I began training the week after I returned from my unsuccessful adventure. Along the way I worked through many physical setbacks. These included a severe back pull that crippled me for nearly a month, strained knee ligaments from too many stair climbs, and a torn calf muscle that appeared to happen so close to our climb that it would keep me from going. I was determined to overcome, yet these obstacles and last year's defeat really stirred a fear of failure that I had to work hard to keep in check. So with all this hopefully behind me, I set off heading up the trail with 8 friends that would soon hold a new place in my heart. There was Brian, our fearless leader and expert. There was Chris who I will call "Stealth" for his ability to -- well never mind. Chris also had the innate ability to never get tired, or least not look like it. Then there was Jessie and his son John. I will remember Jessie as the "Gear Guy". Jessie was always tweaking with his gear, telling us about it, or planning his future gear acquisitions. Next there was ever-positive Larry, my buddy in ministry and constant encourager. There was Kirk who I don't think ever realized what a big deal all of this was and just did it anyway. Though I had a bit of a reputation on this trip for flatulence, I think Kirk blew me away in this area if you know what I mean. By the way Kirk--nice hat--the term sky cap has a whole new meaning to me! There was Carl, a seasoned and die-hard climber, and possessor of the only wood ice axe on the mountain. Last of all, there was my buddy Garth. Garth joined this adventure just several months before the climb and inspired me to move my training to a new level. (Both of us are a bit competitive) By the time we made our first official stop for refueling, I discovered I had a new issue I had not prepared very well for. I had developed heal blisters that would soon be the worst I have ever experienced. We headed are way up the Inter Glacier enduring much heat and sun not to mention a long hard grade. It always seemed as though we were just cresting the top of something but then there was just another steep pitch. Though very tiring, I found this a confidence builder that I now had the strength and mindset to make it to the top. We re-grouped on the ridge just below Steamboat Prow and roped up for our short jaunt up the lower part of the Emmons Glacier to Camp Sherman. Camp Sherman was more like a small city than a camp. The ranger told us we could only stay for the night because too many people had registered before us and there was not room for us the next day. He also mentioned that there was No peeing on the snow. This did not seem like a big deal at the moment but later would for me. So, as exciting as it was to reach base camp, there was still a ton of work to do before dark. Shoveling out flat camp sites, melting snow for water, setting up tents, and making dinner became the new focus. As the sun set on the mountain and I looked out over the valley below, I kind of had one of those beer commercial thoughts-- "It doesn't get any better than this!" Realizing the importance of re-hydrating after such a long haul in the hot sun, I obsessively drank lots of water. I patted myself on the back for this great wisdom until I was nice and cozy in my mummy bag. For the next three hours, every time I started to feel comfortable enough to fall asleep, urgency struck and it was back out side for another bladder flush--across the snow to a rocky spot, thus the new found significance of the ranger's remark about not peeing on the snow. I also learned that our fearless leader in the tent right next to me appeared to have brought a buzz saw that he ran intermittently all night. Praise God for foam ear plugs (another lesson from last years trip) |
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