Liberty Ridge-JayThe StormIn my 15 years of climbing, I’ve only experienced this kind of wind one time in white-out blizzard conditions, climbing Rainier in the winter of 1986. The disadvantage of climbing on the North side of Rainier is you can’t see the South side. Climbing in the sun all day, a storm was the last thing on our minds but there it was and it was coming right for us. Coming up from Oregon, this black and blue climber’s nightmare seems to cover the whole southern horizon. Winds were so strong at the top, we decided to skip the Columbia Crest, festivities and head for the descent route. Our original plan was to proceed to the Columbia Crest, the true summit of Rainier. The plan included an overnighter on the summit in a homemade snow cave. Since safety was our first priority, getting down to a lower elevation was our new priority. The normal descent route down Liberty Ridge is to head eastward, traversing the mountain until you come to the ever-so-popular Emmons route. Easier said than done. Having no choice we started the ½ mile traverse. It was 1 PM and we’ve been climbing since 5:30 a: m that morning. With the expectations of rest gone, I proceeded to trudge on. My ankles were sore and I was developing a headache when all of a sudden, “Whoosh!” The sudden wind gust coming from the south dropped Brian and I to our knees. I felt like we were standing on the deck of a ship when the waves from a storm would crash on to us driving us face down onto the deck of the boat. I yelled for Brian asking if he was all right. He was ok so we proceeded east. Many distractions seem to combat us. Every few minutes we were stopped in our tracks by hurricane force winds, dropping us to our knees to self-arrest. The wind gusts literally would pick up the slack in the rope like a kite and then the wind would stop, automatically tangling the rope on the edges of frozen snowdrifts. Every loose strap on our packs and parkas slapped violently, repeating hits to the face, continually annoying us to no end. I grow increasingly agitated and I notice my mood is becoming very short and bitter, like the winds. With my whole body in fatigue, it seemed to increase my mental stress. Simple climbing techniques became physically hard to execute. Brian notices that I’m becoming more and more hostile from the battering of the winds and the constant tangled rope. He begins to walks toward me, gathering up the rope in coils and placing them over his shoulder. As he approaches, he puts his arm around me, makes a joke and together we head off the mountain. Quite a role-reversal in us compared to the beginning of the climb! After about an hour of this torture, we traversed the upper Winthrop Glacier and made it to the Emmons Glacier descent route. Brian and I started our descent when the whole top of the mountain was engulfed in a black and white storm cloud. The Emmons route was easy to follow down having stationary directional wands to mark the route; it resembled a large set of stampede tracks in the snow from many groups attempting the summit that weekend. It was good to be on the descent. We were out of the savage wind, we had beaten the storm and there was hope for food, rest and a good night sleep at Camp Shurman. Late that afternoon we make it to the main camp-sites at Camp Sherman. We could have continued to descend to Sunrise Visitors center and make it back to the truck by nightfall. With no prior commitments the next day, we opted to spend the night at Camp Sherman. Watching the other climbers descend brought a peace over me that we had accomplished a great task. Watching the storm cloud’s appear and disappear from the summit created from us mixed conversation of whether we should have gone for Columbia Crest or not. In retrospect I think we made the right decision because spending the night on the summit is an option, returning safely back home is not! |
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