Been There, Done That

Day 83: The phenomenon first made itself known to me when I was about 45. I was engaged in a conversation about mountaineering with a couple of much younger friends and mentioned that I'd made six successful summits of Mount Rainier on five routes, only to see eyebrows go up in that inimitable, disbelieving arch which precedes the dismissive, "Oh, really? That's nice," phraseology which falls just short of calling the speaker a liar. Part of their skepticism could be blamed on my diminutive size, but the bulk of it lay with the silver threads which had begun to weave themselves into my raven-black hair. The older I got and the greyer I became, the more frequently my stories were met with suspicions of embellishment or outright doubt, and although that might have irritated another person, I found it amusing (if in a mildly aggravating way).

Last night, I had the slide projector out for another reason, and as I returned one slide to its catalogued slot in a plastic sleeve, it occurred to me to pull out a few others from my climbing files. Capturing them from the textured screen was a less than perfect process, but I did get better results than previous attempts with a scanner. All were taken on Mount Rainier: top left, on the crest of Disappointment Cleaver, 1988; bottom left, camp in the summit crater (ascent via Kautz Glacier), 1984; right, vertical ice climbing, Cowlitz Glacier, 1977. My last successful summit attempt on Mount Rainier was in 1990, and I continued climbing lesser peaks for another decade or so.

Uphill Climb

Day 324: It's been an uphill climb, dammit, but I've got here by putting one foot in front of the other one, navigating around crevasses, keeping my focus on reaching the goal. I don't know that I've achieved anything in anyone else's eyes, but that's not the point. It's just about getting to the top...and getting back down again in one piece. Sometimes the obstacles have seemed insurmountable. Sometimes I've felt dwarfed by the challenge ahead, but as I've chided myself time and again, "You ain't gonna get there by lookin' at it," and that philosophy has driven me to take the next step even when I thought I couldn't go on.

So what's up there that's so important? Nothing but a purely personal reward: "Been there, done that." Is it worth the pain? Too damn right it is! Yeah, there are risks. There are risks in getting out of bed in the morning. You can't let fear govern you, but you have to be wise in the way you approach the pitfalls. You have to be on your toes, in control, tight every single moment. Takes a lot of mental discipline, life.

If you were to ask me what single event stands out among the things I've done, I'd pull out that top photo and say, "This. I spent a night on the summit of Mount Rainier. On purpose." There are a lot of people who overnight up there without planning it, so I have to qualify that. My husband and I climbed via Camp Hazard and Kautz Glacier, laden with full expedition gear "just because." We spent the next day exploring the crater and venturing into steam caves; not deeply, but far enough in to feel the breath of the volcano whispering in our ears. We touched warm rocks with our bare hands when our faces were aching with cold though we were masked by wool balaclavas. We smelled the sulphrous gases emerging from the Mountain's digestive tract.

I was nine years old when I decided I wanted to be a climber. There was only one Mountain on my "to-do" list in those days because I was too young to know there were others. Yet even after I had met Mount Rainier's challenge and gone on to conquer lesser peaks, there was only one Mountain in my heart. Six successful ascents I made, by five routes or variations, but only once did I tuck in for the night with the crater rim rising around me, the greatest moment of my life spent sleeping so soundly that I did not wake to view the stars.

Climbing Cleats

Day 221: "Hiking boots of Neta Budil / Neta and Elwood Budil joined The Mountaineers, Tacoma Branch, in 1943. Neta climbed Mt. Rainier in these boots with tricouni nails and cleats around the edges stamped with: Ome Daiber, Seattle USA, No. 613. Ome Daiber joined the Seattle Mountaineers in 1931. / Donate by Neta's granddaughter Julie and her husband Bill Miller."

If Neta Budil isn't exactly a household word outside the Pacific Northwest climbing circle, Ome Daiber holds that distinction. I had the privilege of meeting the mountaineering legend and inventor of "Sno-Seal" one afternoon as he was hiking down from Camp Muir and I was on my way up. I was a sprightly and energetic 30-something, but Ome put me to shame. He'd made the 5000' elevation-gain ascent to Rainier's best-known base camp in just under four hours. He was 78 years old, and still going strong. Ome invented other products for alpinists as well. Prior to the invention of crampons, climbing boots such as Neta Budil's were outfitted with tricouni nails for traction on hard-frozen snow. Ome's specialized cleats gave mountaineers a substantially improved grip on the ice.

Ome became something of a hero to me after that chance meeting. I was new to the sport of climbing and somewhat in awe of the men and women who had accomplished so many ascents with such primitive gear. Outfitted in the most modern equipment, I went on to meet the challenge of Mount Rainier six times by five different routes, picking off a few other lesser summits as well. Some time later, I learned that Ome had developed late-onset diabetes. He made a successful summit bid on the Mountain after losing one leg as a result of the disease, but passed away the following year after having the other leg removed as well.

Photo taken in the newly remodeled Tacoma Mountaineers clubhouse during Mount Rainier National Park's annual Volunteer Brunch.