It all began in graduate school, in the year 2007. My friend Ryan asked me if I would ever like to climb Mt. Hood. I told him in as reserved a shout as possible, "YES!" It is something I set my sights on since I moved to Oregon.
What things lay in the way? Well, I have never truly "mountaineered" before. Meaning, I have never used an ice ax, helmet or crampons to get to the top of a mountain. I have never self arrested with an ice ax, or even had to belay someone with a rope. So naturally, I was totally excited about this proposition.
On Monday of last week, Ryan asked if I could do it on the weekend of the 18th. I knew that it could be one of my only chances, and the weather would be perfect. I jumped at the chance. After working a full day Friday, teaching the future of America, or as the students might perceive it, wasting the time of 80 some adolescents who couldn't wait to go and enjoy the sunshine outside, I jumped in my car and drove to Corvallis. When I arrived, Ryan had his bag packed and after kissing his wife goodbye, sprung out the door like a kid bolting for the tree on Christmas morning. We grabbed his brother, who happens to be a student at Oregon State University, and hauled him to the University rec Center so we could take advantage of the deal they give students on cheap outdoor gear. We rented our ice axes, helmets, crampons, and I was able to get boots. Total damage, $16.
We then took off for McMinnville, to grab the rest of my gear and drop off my car. We got to my place, and I hurriedly packed the clothes I had set out, and food I wanted to use for fuel. We then both got into Ryan's car and headed for the mountain. We made a quick stop at a Hawaiian restaurant in Tualatin for a final carb load before hitting the mountain.
As the sun set before us, we were able to see the moutain in it's snowy wonder and envisioned hitting it's slope in about 4 hours. We winded our way among the Douglas Firs en route to Timberline Lodge. When we arrived, there were many cars in the parking lots and multiple climbing parties gearing up and getting ready to head up the mountain. It was about 10:30, and we decided to go into the lodge and walk around a bit. After quickly perusing the fire place room with its window displays of historic events at the lodge, we made our way to the car to catch a quick nap before departing.
We both changed into our climbing clothes, except the outer layers. Ryan brought a sleeping bag for himself, and I had brought a pillow. We set our phone alarms for midnight, and no sooner had my head hit the pillow, than it seemed my alarm was sounding and it was time to gear up.
We put on our gear, filled out a hiker's self register and stopped for one last photo before departing. Our boots hit the snow on the edge of the parking lot at 12:40am. We were off to summit Mt. Hood. The stars shone bright above our head, and the Milky Way was majestic in the sky. We could hear our own breathing and the crunch of our boots on the snow, but little else. Between quick breathes, we might ask how each other is doing and how amazing it was that this event was actually happening. A strange sight it is to see many different lights dotting the slope ahead of you. They almost just blend in with the stars above, but as you continue to hike you realize it is the headlamps of the hikers ahead of you. As we turned around to gaze at the parking lot, there was a line of lights behind us as well.
We made it up the first 1000 ft. On our left, the silhouette of a shack/hut hearalded our passing. We had set a goal of 1000ft/hour. We were at 1:20. We were killing it! Another 1000ft. 2:09am. Heck yes. As we hiked, lights would approach and pass us silently. Other lights would be on our left or right as we passed groups putting on crampons, or looking over maps. It was surreal. You are bundled up tight, as it is below freezing, so you are alone with your own breathing. The wind whistles gently by your ears. It was a head wind the whole way up. After our next 1000 ft. We stopped to put on crampons and eat a tiny bite before continuing. The parking lot is at 6000ft. We were now at 9000ft; the end of the ski slope was here. We watched a sno-cat drive up a party of hikers and drop them off at the edge of the snow. I felt like they were cheating, but as the morning wore on, I would have begged for a ride.
As I look back on it now, I don't remember much. There were times I felt like nodding off as I repeated my mantra, "one foot in front of the other." I plodded along across the hard snow, finding steps someone else had wore in, and thanking them for a slight relief. I was basically alone in my thoughts and with my breathing. The thoughts were mostly, "Holy F#^@, I'm tired," and "This is unbelievable, I can't believe we are actually doing this," to "Is that a chest pain? Is my heart ok? Maybe its just gas...yup its gas."
Our next stop was around 3:30. We stopped on the slope as a few hikers passed us. Ryan asked if I wanted my ice ax as a third leg, and I said sure. He unstrapped mine, and I returned the favor. It was still pitch black at this point. When you walk, you start to sweat and you never feel over heated, but when you stop, it is pretty severe how quickly the cold pierces. I also had taken my glove off to help undo Ryan's ax. We started walking almost immediately to help from freezing and I had to grip my hand into a fist to get blood flow back into it. After 10 minutes I could finally put my fingers back into my gloves place for them.
As we moved forward, the light began to slowly rise and we didn't need our headlamps anymore. As we walked higher and higher, we finally sought out refuge behind a giant rock. We parked ourselves to the wind wouldn't hit us quite as bad. I took out some almonds and apricots to try and fuel our push to the top. Two other hikers were there. Now that it was lit, people on the mountain began to speak to each other more. For a while it was like swimming with dolphins, you know each other is there, but you really don't talk to each other. Now we shared pain and exhaustion. It was the two hikers first time, and after a brief stop, Ryan said he was chilling up and wanted to walk. I put back on my pack and walked. It was interested at this point, because I couldn't get water out of any place I had packed it. I had a camelpak bladder, but the water in the hose was frozen solid. My one Nalgene was slushy and the other had frozen solid at the top of the bottle, not letting me to the the liquid water beneath the ice. I don't ever think I have hiked with frozen water before.
I don't remember taking this photo, it was on the way up, but I have no idea when. Obviously the sun was starting to rise, so sometime between 4 and 5am.
We made another push. This one was difficult. My legs burned, my lungs burned and I was ready for a break. I repeated in my head, "foot, foot, ax...foot, foot, ax...foot, foot, ax." That was about as complex as my thoughts were. I do remember smelling sulfur and thinking about how strange it was. It seemed to make breathing harder, but that could have been my imagination. Then I then started to feel true fatigue and began to nod off as I walked. As I would come back from the momentary dip, I would realize I was on a slope and if I slipped the slide would be intense, but it also reminded my whole body that it was all in pain. I finally yelled at Ryan, "Hey, I don't think I can make it another two hours." "I don't think we have two hours left," was his reply. What I really meant to say was, "OK, we had our fun, this isn't fun anymore, I am ready to SLEEP!," but instead, I just put one foot down, then the other, and planted my ice ax.
We finally made it to a little ridge. Beyond it to the North, there was a rock with steam coming out and strong sulfur smell. We had made it to the crater of the volcano. There would be just one more push to make it to the actual summit. I told Ryan that my body was done though. I couldn't go up any more. I took out a sandwich and we took this photo, it was 5:09 am. We were freezing and kind of miserable. Just after this photo, the battery of my camera died. I wanted to take some panorama, and another photo without a sandwich in my mouth, but oh well.
We didn't quite make the summit, but I honestly think my body would have collapsed if I had pushed it further. We began to head down. There was a steady, STEADY line of people from the crater to the top of the peak. We would have been in line and would have waited for the person in front of us to take a step before we could.
Below us, the groups that left after us were just finishing their push toward the top. One person stopped as asked if we made it to the top. We said no, and he said he didn't blame us, he might turn around too. Another asked if the ridge was the top, we said no, but he said he might turn around. A third party asked us if we summited. We said no, and they got huge eyes, "YOU ARE SOOO CLOSE. Just go up there and take a 30 minute snooze." No I said. I'm done. Ryan brought up that I had had heart surgery 10.5 months ago, and they all changed their tune. "Wow. That's incredible." We then both agreed that the sunrise was magnificent and wished each other luck. On the way down, Ryan said his quads were hurting. We took it pretty easy going down. It took us 3 hours. As we went down, and we would stop, I would eat some more almonds, or apricots. My water started to thaw and I was able to drink a little bit. Breathing became easier, and I suddenly got a weird burst of energy. I also took my blood pressure pills around 6:30am. Ryan became a little more uncomfortable and told me that food sounded like a terrible idea to him.
We stopped about every 15 minutes going down. I would tell Ryan how much I appreciated him taking me and we would sit and watch the mountain. The sun changed the colors of the sky at every moment and the snow began to become soft under our feet. We made it to the car at 8:15 am. We had been hiking for 4 and a half hours. Crazy. I then told Ryan I could drive if he wanted me too. He said that sounded great. We drove into Sandy and ate breakfast at a little diner. We shoveled our food and got back on the road. We both felt a little better with food in our stomachs. We then listened to Wait Wait don't tell me on the radio as I drove us into McMinnville. Ryan told me he would drive on to Corvallis. I took my stuff inside. Made some phone calls, and slept for the first time in 30 hours. I will certainly try to summit again in my life time. The trick is to sleep the night before. I also would wear better pants. My snow pants got caught on my crampons a few times, and when you are tired, it is hard to keep your feet. All and all, I am so thrilled to have had the experience, and can't wait to go back. Well, I guess I can wait for my quads and calves stop hurting though.
