TheBootfitter

Climb: Mt. Rainier-Inter - Emmons Date of Climb: 7/21/2005 Trip Report: (Please forgive the parenthetical explanations. I wrote this with a non-climbing audience in mind. Plan to eventually update with a more detailed climbing report.) TRIP SUMMARY Wednesday My buddy and I flew into Seattle on Wednesday afternoon and drove to the White River Campground at an elevation of 4,400 feet near the base of Mount Rainier on the eastern flanks of the 14,411 ft mountain. We met up with two fellow climbers whom we met via a climbing forum on the internet. There is always some inherent risk in climbing with someone you've never met before, but they had great personalities and we hit it off immediately. Thursday We registered with the ranger station for the climb and loaded our packs. Then we began walking, loaded with 40-50 lb packs, up and up and up! The hike began in a thick, lush forest, but after three miles and 2,000 feet of elevation gain, the trail opened up to reveal the rocky, snowy, & icy mountain in all its glory. We continued the hike up, with glacial streams rushing through the rocky valleys below us. It was a beautiful, bright sunny day! Before long, we had reached the foot of the Inter Glacier, where it was necessary to don our climbing harnesses and connect ourselves to the climbing rope. (Climbing with each climber tied into the rope about 30 ft apart is recommended when crossing snow-covered glaciers, because the ice 'flows' down the alpine valleys and huge cracks – called crevasses – open in the ice. These crevasses often can be avoided, but sometimes remain unseen under layers of snow that may or may not be strong enough to support the weight of a climber. By roping up, a climber who falls through the snow into a crevasse can be held safely by other climbers on the rope, and rescued by them in the unlikely event of a fall all the way into a crevasse.) Our climb became quite a bit steeper and changed from dirt and rock to snow and ice, but we kept going up and up. At one point, the snow began to disappear and we found ourselves walking on slick ice with our climbing boots. Before anyone slipped and fell (note that its nearly impossible to stop someone's fall on slick ice on 40 degree slopes), we decided to stop and put our crampons on. (Crampons are devices with sharp metal 'spikes' that attach to climbing boots to give you better traction on hard snow and ice.) This, as you may imagine, was no easy task. We had to stop on steep, slick ice… remove our packs… take our crampons out… and secure them to the boots on our feet… all without slipping and falling. With this adventure behind us, we continued to climb up. At another point, large crevasses had opened up on our route that were covered with layers of snow. Just because other people had already crossed over the snow bridges did not mean they would support us. So, one by one, we carefully crossed the network of snow bridges over the crevasses. By this time, we were getting closer to our destination of Camp Schurman at 9,400 ft, but the sun was getting lower on the horizon, and big wind gusts were cooling us off quickly and making walking in a straight line difficult. As we continued climbing, descending parties warned us of the dangerous rock scramble that lay ahead. We finally reached the top of the Inter Glacier, and faced the rock scramble down onto the Emmons Glacier, where Camp Schurman was just a short climb away. The hillside that we had to descend was very loose dirt with all shapes and sizes of rocks ready to slide down the hill at any time. A slip would likely mean sliding down this loose, rocky slope without stopping, then tumbling over the edge, falling to the severely crevassed glacier 100 ft below. By descending carefully, we were all able to make our way down safely. We had one other mini-adventure before arriving at our final destination for the day. Immediately outside of Camp Schurman, there was a large bergschrund (a large crevasse where the ice pulls away from the mountainside to begin flowing down). A very precarious-looking snow bridge covered the bergschrund, but we all made it safely across without incident. Exhausted, we finally made it to Camp Schurman as the sun was setting and casting shadows of Mount Rainier in the purple sky behind us. We hustled to unload and secure our gear, set up our tent, and cook dinner to feed our starving bellies. We finished eating just as the sky clouded over and a light drizzle began to fall. We all climbed into our sleeping bags in the tent to fall hard and fast asleep. Friday The rain strengthened and continued through the night, at times pounding the tent heavily. In the morning, flashes of lightning were followed too closely by deafening claps of thunder. And then the wind picked up speed. Suddenly, our nice dome-shaped tent turned into an inverted dome on one side as the wind bent the tent poles inward, plastering the tent walls to our faces as we were lying on the tent floor. Gusts of 50+ mph left us inside the tent holding up the walls and hoping that our anchors would hold and keep us and the tent from blowing down the glacier and into a crevasse. After the rain let up and the clouds blew away, the sun quickly warmed things up. It was bright and warm, but the wind was still blowing intermittently. Some gusts were strong enough to practically knock you off your feet. The weather report from the rangers indicated that cold, moist marine air was still expected over the next day or two. On the other hand, it could all clear up at anytime. Nearly everyone else at Camp Schurman had reached the summit a day earlier, so they were packing up and heading down. After some deliberation and after seeing the clouds rolling over the peak at 70-80 mph, we decided to take advantage of the window of relatively clear weather and head down with the others. So we packed up (taking down a tent with 50+ mph wind gusts is not an easy task) and started the journey down. Several hours later after punishing downhill steps through snow, ice and rock, and punching through a snow bridge or two, we reached our cars at the trailhead. Our packs had picked up some water weight during the storms of the previous night. It felt good to be back and take the monsters off our backs! Now ravenous with hunger, we hopped into the cars and drove to a nearby pizza joint for some food and beer. We didn't reach the top, but the mountain is still there to climb again. And we came back safely to tell about our adventures. That's a successful trip in our opinion! Gear Notes: o Used a couple ice-screws when we got off route on the Inter. Wouldn't have needed them, but glad we had them. o Should have brought more snow stakes / anchors and guy cord for the big tent.

Point well taken... except that I didn't post with the intent of advising anyone. (I'm still too new to the sport to offer much advice to anyone other than climbing virgins.) The items I offered above are things that we discussed on the scene that applied to our situation. If anyone else can learn anything from the incident -- great! If the items that we discussed apply to a situation you find yourself in -- great! Consider them as a few possible alternative actions to those that were actually taken that day -- not an exhaustive list of alternatives... and certainly not what should be done in all situations. Every situation is unique, afterall. And different climbers have different styles and different priorities. My intent is not to preach... but rather to encourage people to think so that accidents like this one can be prevented in the future. What might you have done if you were in my position that day?

Looks like we're hooked up with another party. Thanks all!

Like I said, quit climbing and take up brain surgery. Oh, hey... you must be dug from SP. I assume you are directing this at the jumper -- not at me. Correct? I suspect that the jumper was exaggerating his previous falls before realizing the extent of his injuries -- possibly in an attempt to maintain humor. I'm not defending or justifying this guy's actions, but it is interesting to consider what must go through the mind of an individual before making such a decision. He recognized afterward that what he did was stupid, yet in that moment, it obviously seemed to be his best option. I know virtually nothing about his climbing history except that he indicated he had "twenty years of climbing experience." He said that in the context of "twenty years... and yet I still do something dumb like that!" Though he made a decision that certainly was far less than ideal, I'm not sure it would be fair to characterize the individual based on one dumb action. Afterall, who hasn't made some dumb error in judgment that they didn't recognize until afterward? Hopefully, most of us DO recognize the stupidity and correct it before any accidents actually happen.* (At the same time... I wouldn't volunteer to go climbing with the guy.) *I once took out a friend for his first rappel. He was backed up with a prussik or kleimheist. As an afterthought, I offered to belay him on a separate line from above to help him feel more secure. Though I was in a pretty secure position myself and probably could have caught any unlikely falls, I didn't recognize until afterward that I had forgotten to secure myself to an anchor above. You better believe I'll never do that again!

I'm flying in with a buddy on Wednesday afternoon, July 20th. Flying out late Sunday evening. Would like to do Emmons. Shoot me a message at thebootfitters at earthlink dot net if you're interested in those dates.

--> If you are not familiar with a route... top-rope it first! If you're going for first ascents... great! If you're planning to spend a day of recreational climbing at a local crag, there's no need to be stupid and lead a route that has already been climbed thousands of times that you know nothing about. As it turns out... there are very few suitable places in the middle of that particular route for adequate protection. I talked to a few climbers afterward, and they indicated that they previously had to downclimb on that route once they realized they couldn't make solid placements. The guy that fell didn't make the judgement soon enough to downclimb. --> If your placements are suspect and your position is poor and someone is above... either have them lower a secured coil or rappell down to tie you into a secure system. I see your point here. And when you don't have the option of getting help, I wholeheartedly agree. I suspect this guy pushed his limit because he knew there was help above. By the time he realized he was in over his head, he had already lost his self-control -- which, I think, is evident by his choice to jump. If you recognize you're in over your head (regardless of how you got there) and help is readily available -- I'm of the opinion that accepting the help and not jumping would be a pretty good option. :-)

--> Oh... and be sure to communicate clearly with others -- the situation, your position, your intent, etc...

I was out Friday afternoon with a few friends setting up a top-rope on The Column (a route at a Minnesota crag) when a couple showed up below. I asked if they planned to top-rope or lead and where they wanted to set up. We decided that I would set the anchors up top and one of them would lead the route and set their rope in my anchors. The guy starts climbing just left of The Column and gets a little over halfway up (maybe 40 ft up) when he shouts up at me that he isn't feeling very good about his last two placements. He asks me to throw down a rope. I ask if he wants me to lower the rope so he can clip in and I can belay him down or if he wants me to rappell to him. He says, no, just throw the ropes down. I figured he wanted to grab the ropes with one hand and tie in or rappel down himself. This is the crazy part... It was hot. This guy was tired. Evidently he was not feeling very confident about his position... because he literally jumped from where he was in an attempt to grab my rope and catch himself. His top placement popped out. He slid down my rope, suffering severe rope burns on his hands. As he picked up speed from the fall, his second placement popped loose and he continued to fall. (I believe by this time he had let go completely of my rope to avoid more rope burns.) Watching the entire thing in disbelief from above, I saw the guy smash into the column with a loud thud and bounce off, hitting the ledge that juts out near the base of the column with an intense crack. I'm thinking... Holy Sh!t!!! This guy might be dead! I yelled down to him asking if he was okay. He shouted back that he's been better... but that he's taken worse falls. He was coherent and concsious, and everyone was relieved. His belayer and some of my friends below immediately went to help him and administer first aid. They were able to carefully move him to a secure position. His left leg was obviously broken, but didn't seem to have suffered any other significant injuries. Well, a few other bumps, scrapes, and of course, the rope burn... but he was extremely lucky for the fall he took. He remained alert and kept his sense of humor throughout the ordeal, though it was obvious he was in pain. He was muttering afterward... "Dumb, dumb, dumb!" Yeah, perhaps there are a few lessons to be learned or reinforced through this experience... Here's a few thoughts (certainly not an exhaustive list) that we discussed while we were waiting for the paramedics to arrive at the scene. --> If you are not familiar with a route... top-rope it first! --> If your placements are suspect and your position is poor and someone is above... either have them lower a secured coil or rappell down to tie you into a secure system. --> Wear a helmet! Feel free to offer your own safety reminders below. And best wishes to Tony for a speedy recovery!

Hey All -- My intended third person for a rope team just backed out on me because he didn't get the "wife-pass" for the trip. I am taking a newbie out for his first mountaineering trip. I have spent several hours with him going over the basics of glacier travel, rope handling, crevasse rescue, etc, but he has never set foot on a glacier. We would really like to do a relatively easy glaciated route on Rainier (DC) or Baker, but even with a low risk of crevasse falls neither of us would be comfortable with the possibility of me falling in and him left alone to anchor and rescue me if needed. So, basically, we are looking for a relatively experienced climber to be at the opposite end of the rope from me when we are roped. If you have a lot of experience that you enjoy sharing with others -- even better... since the newbie could definitely benefit from some coaching from a different perspective -- and I am always open to learning new things (or reinforcing already learned things) myself. We're actually somewhat flexible on the dates (we both have July 2-10 open as well), and we're open to destinations. If no one steps forward here, I will likely take him to Adams or Hood for a non-glaciated route and perhaps find a glacier to 'play' on for a day -- letting him get some actual glacier experience. My goal is to develop this very eager (but cautiously wise) newbie into a solid climbing partner for future trips. (Especially since my core group of partners seems to be getting too busy to do trips these days!) I believe my email is in my profile, but feel free to shoot me a message at thebootfitters at earthlink dot net if you're interested or if you would like more information. Peace, The Bootfitter