The alarm went off at 11:43pm.
It wasn’t like the alarm was really necessary, neither of us had been truly sleeping. I for one, had been drifting near the surface thinking about the food I’d packed, not forgetting the moleskin, where was the sunscreen etc. Derek was lamenting the fact that we still hadn’t finalized our life insurance. I guess these are all the normal things that go through your mind right before a big adventure.
It seemed like a good idea when Eric asked. “How would you guys like to climb Baker with me?” Sure, we thought! Life passes you by pretty quietly if you don’t say ever say yes to new adventures. We train hard and try to keep our bodies balanced and fit for exactly these opportunities. “It’ll be great!” “‘, says the busy father, “we’ll do it light and fast in 1 day”. We’ll leave early and be back in Bellingham midday”. Even better for us, we thought. We always like a quick, simple trip that let’s us get back to our dogs and fit in some other activities.
As the week progressed we began to realize the enormity of the trip. We had to find equipment and gear for something completely new to us. Neither Derek nor I had ever done any mountaineering. Some of our backcountry ski stuff would work but Derek had to make a quick trip to Backcountry Essentials (our favorite gear store in the ‘Ham) for some boots and some rope for a prusik (we still didn’t know what that was and Derek kept calling it a percocet). I was in charge of provisions and tried to balance energy density with space & weight. Then we had several prep sessions with Eric (a former guide and our enthusiastic trip leader) for rope lessons and gear divvying. Thankfully, Eric was very generous and lent us the majority of our stuff; harnesses, crampons, ice axes…, and showed us how to use them.
This was all good till it began to sink in how we would really accomplish a climb up to 11,000 ft and be back before dinner. After our Friday workday (which starts at 6am), we would nap (yeah, right), have dinner and leave for the trip at midnight. Eric and our other companion Jeff, were due to arrive any moment. At 11:45pm we received a call from Eric. “I don’t know where Jeff is. I’ve tried his phone, no answer. I’ve called his girlfriend. His car’s not at his house. I don’t get it. This was his idea.”
Since we were driving, the plan changed and we went to pick up Eric, who was waiting for us on the front stoop, putting together a shorter length of rope since we now had a smaller group. “I’m calling one more time and telling Jeff he can meet us at the Heliotrope trailhead but if he misses us there, he’s out of luck.” It rang, twice, three times and finally Jeff picked up. He had slept through 2 alarms, numerous phone calls and an impromptu party of 30 people his roommates had going. At least he was packed, if not completely awake.
We left Bellingham at 12:30am. We began hiking at 2:07am. The trail started climbing fairly quickly and it didn’t take long for us to start shedding layers. It was a beautiful night and the moon was bright as it poked through the trees. Several stream crossings and 2 hours later we emerged from the trees and began ascending a narrow trail with Coleman Glacier on our left. I could just make out its shape in the pre-dawn light. I could also tell that the ground was dropping away from me on either side. I remembered Eric telling me that we would be travelling up the spine of a moraine to our transition point. Look ahead and don’t slip, I kept telling myself. We crept past a couple of tents of people who were doing the climb in 2 days (smart!) and found a spot to switch into hiking boots, get roped up etc.
With our trail runners & extra drinks stashed, it was time to start the climb in earnest. It was about 4:15am. The first pitch was pretty steep and the snow was very firm. Crampon use was a necessity. Eric warned us that “College Kid” crevasse was about halfway up and we should take care to remember it on the way down. The lure of the campsite and a perfect pitch for a quick, easy glissade at the end of a long day had apparently caught more than one tired climber. I guess sliding down on your bum doesn’t give you a lot of traction or opportunity to stop and the crevasse is hard to see from the top. The warning gets cemented in my risk averse brain.
The climbing up was pretty simple. Eric set a steady pace and most of the time I was looking down to make sure I had strong footing. I also had to focus on what he had told me. “Maintain a a light tension on the rope, don’t step on it with the crampons, keep the rope on the downhill side of you, ice axe on the opposite side”. I was watching Eric’s steps to maintain a consistent pace and to see as he cut trail in steep Z’s up the glacier. When I occasionally looked up I could see the light changing to my left and an amazing pink glow coming over the mountain top. My brain only partly registered “Red sky in the morning, shepherd’s take warning…”. By 6am we had crossed to another popular camping area, the Black Buttes. We stopped here for a quick break and to look around. It was stunning and hard to believe how far up we were already. In the early morning light Eric was able to point out some depressions across the glacier marking several crevasse crossings we would encounter before we stopped at Pumice Ridge, an area marked by rough lava rock and our next obvious break.
As a cyclist, climbing up is not a big deal. We could feel the air thinning but the muscle recruitment is pretty similar to riding. We maintained a good pace, passing several groups along the way. We hit Pumice Ridge quite quickly. Eric noted that we were averaging a 500ft elevation gain in about 15-20 minutes, not bad. We were happy to take a short rest and prepare for the final push to the top. I noticed that several industrious climbers before us had built quite a wind break at the base of the ridge with some of the loose rocks but winds were light and on this day it wasn’t necessary.
The last big section to cover was the Roman Wall. It was definitely a wall – straight up & our going slowed up quite a bit in this last section. I think it’s about a 1000ft up. Again, Derek & I were happy for my strong cardio base and fitness. About halfway up I did start thinking about the descent. Descents aren’t always that friendly for cyclists and it was exactly for times like these that Derek & I started training several years ago specifically to offset our one dimensional cycling fitness. Our friend Eric really set an awesome pace and in the end the wall really wasn’t that arduous. Of course, maybe it felt so good because the top of the wall is really the top – the very top!!
The top of the Roman Wall turns into a long gentle mound and I realized as we walked over it that it’s the mound that we can see from back in town. It started sinking in that we had really made it. There’s a large flat section at the top and then at the far side of the flat area is another small mound that is actually the real top. We were able to un-rope, put down our packs and scramble to the peak. We’d been smelling the sulfur for quite some time but now we were able to look down towards the crater and see the steam coming out!
We spent about 20-30 minutes at the top, enjoying a quick lunch and then decided that we should make tracks. Although we’d been on the move for 7.5 hours, it was only 9:30am. Looking across the surrounding hills and valleys and into the wind we could see some ominous looking clouds with a distinctive diagonal slant below them. There was definitely rain on the way. Time for us to go.
Apparently it was my turn to lead. Eric explained that it was safest to have the least experienced person at the front of the rope while descending, that’d be me or Derek, and the slowest person at the front, also me. This would allow the slowest person the ability to set a pace that was most comfortable and put our more experienced group members in a better position to help from in case we encountered any problems (ie. I slipped, tumbled, fell into a crevasse etc., – not that I was thinking about it). We kept our crampons on as we descended the Roman Wall. There was quite a steady stream of people coming up at this point and I was a bit concerned about them as it was clear that the weather was changing. We passed one couple with skis on their backs and although the snow was not good for skiing today I knew they’d get down fast and with less muscular challenge than we would encounter hiking down.
We stopped at the base of the wall to remove our crampons and hopefully this would mean a change of pace to a faster plunge step into softer snow for the remaining descent. Well, it wasn’t to be for me. Derek and Jeff, both with their great “new” boots from Backcountry Essentials and Eric with his mountaineering boots were fine but it was immediately clear that my hikers, although sturdy, were not shaped for snow travel. Low profile tread and a rounded heel meant that I would never be able to get a good bite into the snow. I had to put the crampons back on.
Derek & I had never experienced crampons before and they elevate the foot above the ground a lot, something we’ve been avoiding with our low profile runners and five finger shoes. The effect was just as I expected, more ankle roll. I really hadn’t noticed it too much on the way up with a reduced speed and the movement of kicking the toe into the snow but trying to land with a flat foot and with a much increased pace, the uneven ground from repeated frozen and thawed footsteps meant that I seemed to feel a roll or uneven landing every few steps. Moving deliberately required a lot of concentration! I was trying not to brake too much, trying not to clip the inside of my pant legs with the crampons, keep the rope taut and make sure I kept moving in the direction of the flags Eric had placed on the way up.
Although the weather was clearly changing, we really had no issues with visibility but I could quickly see how important the fluorescent green flags could be in the great expanse of the white snow field. We noticed that although we saw other people with the flags no one else seemed to be placing them. Eric placed them to mark our path, to mark directional changes and any larger crevasse crossings on our route. As we looked back up the mountain and saw the light becoming flatter and more overcast I wondered how the climbers ascending after us would fare on their return journey without the assistance. There were several holes and cornices close to our route that I wouldn’t want to get anywhere near and the flags helped us avoid them.
Even though we couldn’t make super fast time on the descent we were still moving steadily. I felt a bit like a horse going back to the barn. I didn’t want to stop and we didn’t until we reached the end of the snow. In the light of midday we could now see several small camping areas at the tops of the moraines at the base of the glacier. Our timing couldn’t have been better as the first raindrops began to fall as we switched into our trail runners in preparations for the final hike out to the car.
I was awed by the amazing color of the wildflowers against the black shale of the moraine but given that it was Nicola and the boys for this trip, I only heard small sounds of appreciation for their beauty from my male companions. Negotiating the slick, wet shale was not something I had really anticipated and the pace had to be slower and more deliberate than we had hoped. Once we hit the forested trail, our pace picked up again. Of course, this part of the trail seemed to go on forever! It hadn’t seemed anywhere near as long in the dark at the start of the trip. Eric was quick to point out that the trail gets quite a bit longer on the return trip. It definitely felt like it!!
We got back to the car by 2pm. Almost exactly 12 hours from when we left. Wet, tired and happy. The only thing left to do was enjoy some warm food and a well deserved beer – North Fork Pizza, here we come! We ate well, talked a little and toasted our accomplishment. The clouds had descended quickly and looking back Mt. Baker was now completely obscured. Our timing couldn’t have been better. A good sleep, some ice on the legs and hopefully the recovery will be quick.
Posted in Outdoor Adventure
Tags: climbing, hiking, mountaineering
