This
three part trip was likely the toughest of all the vacations our hiking group
took together. The physical challenge, skills needed, and logistics for the
trip were all a step beyond anything we had done before. The main of the goal
of the trip was to climb two technical state highpoints, mounts Hood and Rainier
in Oregon and Washington. But since we would already be equipping up for
glacier climbing, we also added WA’s Mt Olympus to our list. Neither Buddy,
James, Frank, or I had enough experience to lead a climb on Rainier, but we felt
OK for Hood and Olympus based on the meager experience, Buddy and I had.
Luckily Denny, my college friend and grad school roommate, agreed to join us.
Denny had grown up in Portland and had made many ascents in the Cascades,
including two climbs of Mt. Rainier. Our plan was for the four of us to take a “shakedown”
trip on Mt Hood, then drive north to join Denny for an attempt on Rainier. Denny
would then head back home to Idaho, while the four of us headed for Olympic
National Park.
Hood from Timberline Lodge.
Our
plan for all three climbs was to take the technically easiest route. For Hood
that is the south slopes, which is still a 5,000 foot climb from the Lodge. The
south slope is at the very easy end of roped glacier climbing, is relatively
simple, and is frequently used. We had detailed instructions for the route, and
I felt confident leading it, and that the entire group could climb it.
On Rainier.
For
Rainier, Denny had recommended the Emmons-Winthrop route from Camp Shurman. It
required 1,000’ more climbing than the more popular Disappointment Clever Route
from Camp Muir. But Disappointment Cleaver is the guided route, and he thought
we’d enjoy the quieter route from Camp Shurman.
9-7-92,
Fly to Seattle
Friday
was our fly in day. We managed to connect with each other in the Seattle
airport, despite only James arriving on time. We got a rental car, found our
hotel (which I think my friend Dave had arranged for us), and had time to drink
some beer and catch up on the events of the last year.
9-8-92,
Gearing up and travel to Mt Hood
Renting
our climbing gear was more of a hassle than we anticipated. I already had a
harness, ice axe, and crampons, but I think the other guys needed to rent all
their gear including mountaineering boots and our rope. The store guys thought
I’d be OK in my Sundowners on Hood, but definitely not on Rainier or Olympus.
The shops didn’t take reservations for crampons in advance, so they were the
toughest item to locate. We found an especially helpful guy at the Swallows
Nest, and eventually wrangled all our gear. 
Hogback on Mt Hood.
It
seemed a long drive to Mt Hood, but maybe I was just eager to climb, and aware
we’d need extra time to get some sleep. Brewpubs were a new thing then, and we
stopped for lunch at the Elusive Trout in Sandy, which had a fine sampler tray.
We
got to Timberline Lodge at the base of the ski area on Mt Hood at 8 PM, and
used the parking lot to repack our gear. We camped in the woods above the
parking lot. One member of the group snored through most of the night, despite
the barrage of pinecones thrown at him.
6-21-92,
Mt Hood
We
got even more sleep than we planned. I’d set my alarm for 1AM, but it didn’t go
off, and we slept to 3:30. The lower part of the route follows the Mt Hood ski
area. We climbed a half hour to the Silcox Hut, and then about 1 ½ hours to the
top of the ski runs off the Palmer lift. It was a bit distressing to slog up
alongside the lift. All morning the snowcats were running, and we didn’t see
many other climbers. We learned later that a common strategy was to buy a lift
pass, ski all day, and then take you gear up on the lift as it prepared to
close. Next, camp in a small bowl just over a small ridge from the lift. Lift
served campers would have a much shorter climb the next day, and skipped all
the boring climbing.
Hogback and Bergshrund on Hood.
From
the top of the Palmer Lift we followed a narrow rock rib to the right of Crater
Rocks. The snow was starting to get steep, so we put crampons on and climbed to
a saddle between two steam vents. I got to the saddle about a half hour ahead
of the group and talked with a guide from Timberline Lodge. He said that
rockfall in the Chute was rough, and recommended that we turn back, since we
did not have helmets. His clients looked nervous, but when the rest of my group
arrived we decided to go ahead after a rest break. 
Frank, James, and Buddy at the Saddle.
The
next two segments, the Hogback and a zigzag section weren’t particularly steep.
In the zigzag we passed a deep bergschrund (a deep crack in the ice at the head
of the glacier) on the right side. From there we entered a deep couloir with
lots of loose rock on the sides, but we saw no active rockfall. Here was the
crux of the rockfall danger where the rotten volcanic rock was released by snow
melting in the morning sun. We’d been climbing a good while, and one of the
guys wanted to stop part way across for a breather. I said we weren’t stopping
until we were above the rockfall. Finally, the couloir opened to a broad slope
leading to the summit, and the sharp drop down the mountain’s north face, Total
time to the summit was five hours.
At the Saddle.
The
view from the top was a wonderful panorama of the Cascade range. Mt Jefferson
to the south, and St Helens, Adams, and Rainier to the north were particularly
impressive. Adams looked like a mini Rainier with much the same shape as the
giant to the north. Our stay on top was short. In our haste for the summit, we
stashed some gear at the saddle and headed back quickly to retrieve it.
It
took about 45 minutes to descend back to the saddle, just about as long as the
climb up had taken. Beyond Crater Rock it was just a long slog down on snow to
Silcox Lodge, and then a walk on rock back to the parking area. Total time down
was another three hours. The extended hiking down alongside the ski area was
almost as tough as the climb up, mostly because I couldn’t help thinking about
how much easier it would be to ski or just ride the lift. As much as we enjoyed
the upper part of the climb, I decided I’d try a different route if I ever went
up Mt Hood again.
There
was little rest for we weary climbers. Once we hit the parking lot, it was back
into the car for the trip to Rainier. We stopped again at the Elusive Trout for
beer and fajitas. We stayed at the White River Campground on the northeast side
of Mt Rainier NP where we resorted our gear for the big climb to come. Rainier
had looked so huge from the car, that we were all already feeling a bit
intimidated.
Mt Rainier from below.
6-22-92,
To Camp Shurman
Our
group was ready early for once, so Buddy used the extra time to shuttle James
and Frank to the Glacier Basin Trailhead to give them a bit of a head start.
Denny arrived just as Buddy returned, and we quickly got on the trail. It had
been several years since I’d seen Denny, so there was much to catch up on, plus
give him the news on our Hood climb. I walked the 3.5 miles on the Glacier
Basin Trail in my sneakers (and carried my climbing boots). Luckily for me the
trail was in near perfect condition. Beyond Glacier Basin we left the trail for
the steep slopes of Inter Glacier. Two flat areas broke up the climb, but there
is no crevasse danger on Inter. It took about 4 hours of hiking on the glacier
to reach Camp Shurman which was a gain of nearly 4,000 feet. We got sloppy near
the top of the glacier where not all of us roped up for a steep section on
Emmons Glacier, just below the Camp.
Approaching Camp Shurman.
On
our way we talked with descending climbers who told us about an accident the
day before. Two climbers descending from a climb of nearby Liberty Ridge had
fallen into a crevasse. One died in the fall, and the other had managed to solo
climb out of the crevasse. The fall had occurred on the “Corridor”, just above
Shurman on normally safe ground. The
fall appeared to go through a snow bridge over a hidden crevasse, caused in
part by already late season snow conditions. A we rested at Camp Curtis, we
watched a helicopter lift the body off the glacier and fly it down the
mountain. It was obviously a sobering moment for all of us. In 2013, the
surviving climber documented the accident in a book titled “The Ledge.” 
Watching helicopter from Camp Curtis.
Once
at Camp Shurman, we set up camp and ate dinner quickly, hoping to get as much
rest as we could. Normally, an early morning start is ideal for a Rainier climb,
but Denny moved our start time up to 10:30 (PM!) to ensure the surface of the
glacier would be as solid as possible.
It doesn't look that far?
6-23-92,
Rainier via the Emmons-Winthrop Route
We
were up at 10:30, earlier than the usual bedtime for most of us. I doubt anyone
slept much, but at least we got some solid rest. We were climbing by 11 PM,
with one other party preparing to leave from Shurman. Denny led the first rope,
with me behind to belay, and James behind me. Buddy and Frank were on the
second rope. The moon soon rose, and we were able to go much of the way without
headlamps. The lights of Seattle and Puget Sound were spectacular, but mostly
we focused on the route ahead. The route was straightforward, at least to
Denny. We made one traverse to the right in the lower corridor, where the route
had been changed to avoid an open crevasse above us. We saw only a few wands on
the corridor, and no sign of the fatal crevasse.
At Camp Shurman.
My
crampons came off three times. I was using a pair I’d bought for my sundowners,
and Denny thought that I’d misadjusted them. I also had my headlamp batteries
fail (this was back in the day of old style headlamps) so I was the weak link
for a while, making my buddies freeze, while I fiddled with my gear. It was
getting colder toward the top, so these stops were not welcome, even as
fatigued as we were.
Mt Adams over the crater of Rainier.
About
3AM we were above Little Tahoma and began to see some predawn lights. We’d use
the subpeak to mark our pitiful progress, as we would with Liberty Cap, once we
got closer to the top. Twice while looking up at Denny leading, I spotted
shooting stars.
On the crater rim.
Beyond
the corridor the climb up Winthrop Glacier seemed infinitely long. We fell into
a rough rhythm with steep snow slopes and traverses across less steep crevassed
sections. One particularly welcome section was actually flat, and I expect we
were all ruing our decision to take not take shorter Disappointment Clever
route.
At
times it seemed the summit was retreating from us. Denny claimed the climb is
an hour too long and I had to agree. We
were all young, fit, and used to blowing past estimated travel times, but here
in the world of big mountains we were not keeping up. We went up one false
summit and I admit I was about ready to quit there.
Buddy and Denny at the steam vents.
But
despite the sights of the previous day, I was never scared on the route. We
were often concerned about punching through soft snow on the lower corridor.
But higher up things were frozen solid. And despite all our exertion, and
little time to rest, we got chilled whenever we did catch any small break.
Denny set a slow, steady pace and did a flawless job route finding. I set a few
boot/ax belays for him, but none were really needed.
Looking down to Camp Shurman.
Finally,
we reached a level area near the top of Liberty Cap we were able to see the
rocks of Rainier’s east rim. We staggered to the rim, not flush with excitement,
but with the relief of knowing that we’d climb no more.
Close up of the route from Camp Shurman.
Once
on the summit it was picture time with St Helens and other peaks prominent in
the background. Denny showed us the summit register and some fumaroles where we
could rest and still stay warm. Not long after we arrived, climbers began
pouring over the rim from Disappointment Cleaver, and across the level summit
crater. But for a brief time, we’d had the summit to ourselves.
We
regrouped and headed down, anxious to reach camp before the snow softened even
more. About two hours down, we saw the other party of three who had left from
Shurman. They would eventually put in a 19 hour day, but reached the summit.
Otherwise, the descent was uneventful until we reached the freezing line at
about 11,000’. We had already jumped three small crevasses, but this area
scared us more. James spotted the fatal crevasse, and we passed it on our
right. 
James on Inter Glacier.
Overall,
the descent took four hours, but seemed to last forever. Our views of Camp Shurman were from so far above that they
seemed to be from a spaceship. The roundtrip climb had taken a full 12 hours.
When
we reached camp we dropped our gear like a bunch of drunks shedding their
clothes on the way to bed. We were all dehydrated, and I boiled up a few quarts
of water. This had probably been the toughest single day I’d had, including my
two attempts at 50 mile runs. We napped for a while in the tents, until they
became too hot from the afternoon sun.
We
had time to relax in the afternoon. The group had gotten along great and worked
well together. Denny’s leadership had been a huge asset. I hoped the group
would be able to go on to other peaks in the future, but we’d all have to step
up our conditioning for another attempt on Rainier.
6-24-92,
Descent from Rainier
I
don’t often feel decadent after sleeping in to 5:30AM, but knowing that the
day’s climbing parties were nearing the summit while I was still in bed made me
feel that way. We started our route back with a quick climb to the Prow which
would give us the chance to glissade the full length of Inter Glacier. It was
the first time glissading for James, but he quickly got the hang of it after
watching the rest of us. I was using my old Kelty frame pack and the down tubes
worked too effectively as brakes, so I had to paddle much of my way down, and
had a slower ride. The rest of the crew needed a few self-arrests to slow down
along the way.
At
Glacier Basin I changed back into my sneakers, relieved that my rented climbing
boots had been so comfortable. The entire descent back to trailhead took only 2
½ hours. There we said goodbye to Denny and headed for Seattle. We were tired
enough from Rainier to know that Mt Olympus, with its long approach hike would
be too much for us, and planned to do a simpler backpack trip in the Olympics
instead.
Frank decided not to go to the Olympics, and was trying to contact a friend of his in town. We dropped him off at the hotel and went to dinner. We then took the ferry to Bainbridge Island and drove three hours to the Heart of the Hills Campground in Olympic NP. Buddy did some marathon driving to get us in around 11:30 PM.
6-25-92,
To Seven Lakes Basin, 8.7 mi.
In
the morning we cruised back into the Visitors Center to get maps, guides, and a
permit. Buddy bought the hiking guide, and I got the climbing guide. We were
lucky to get a permit for the Seven Lakes Basin, one of the park’s most scenic,
and therefore most heavily used, alpine areas. We drove to the Sol Duc
Trailhead on the west side of the park, looking forward to an easy loop on well
graded NPS trails.
The
first ¾ mile to Sol Duc Falls was packed with hikers, but was still a pretty
hike with a nice falls. Next up was a steep climb on switchbacks to Deer Lake,
where we ate lunch. 
Olympics National Park.
Past
Deer Lake we reached the High Divide where we got tremendous views, including
Mt Olympus. Buddy and I reached Lunch Lake together and took a cold swim. After
an hour James was still not in, so Buddy went off to look for him. As it turned
out he had the permit, but no maps, and we were supposed to stay at Round Lake.
So, James had gone to Round Lake, and then down to Sol Duc Lake before Buddy
found him. We had also gotten our party split up in each of the last two previous
years, but thank goodness this was the last episode in that trend. 
Looking into the Hoh River Valley.
The
mosquitos were fierce in the evening, but disappeared at sunset allowing me to
sleep outside. My journal doesn’t specify, but I assume we kept our camp at
Lunch Lake.
6-26-92,
Mt Bogachiel and Sol Du River, 9.8 mi.
Plop,
plop, plop, I woke up in the morning to sound of fat raindrops landing on my sleeping
bag. We had all left our gear scattered about the campsite and rushed to gather
it up. In the short time it took us to organize the rain stopped, and we turned
to preparing breakfast.
On Mt Bogachiel with James and Buddy.
We
followed the High Divide for a mile to Mt Bogachiel, which had great views of
the Mt Olympus group just off to our south. After Hood and Rainier, Bogachiel
seems like a minor peak, but on this leg of the trip we were happy to get to any
highpoint with a good vista. At the junction above Heart Lake an abandoned trail
leads further along the divide, and we took the time to follow it to the east
for about 1 ½ miles before heading back. I was really enjoying the high country
here. The peaks are very rugged, and the High Divide offers continuous views.
The Hoh Valley was packed with fog, while the Sol Duc River side was clear. It
was strange to have the contrast of a green valley on one side and white one on
the other. 
Camping on Sol Duc Creek.
Next
we dropped 3.5 miles down into the Sol Duc River Valley on another beautiful,
but well used, trail. We got a campsite right in the trees. Again, my notes
don’t specify the campsite name, but most likely we were at Upper Sol Duc
Bridge. The day had been overcast giving us some relief from the heat. I really
liked the Olympics forest hiking. It was cool, with few bugs and plenty of
water. Standing at the base of the trees I could barely turn my head enough to
see their tops. With their mossy coats the trees themselves seem lush. It was
difficult to believe the area was in a drought. After 6 years in SD, I was
stunned by the size of the trees. Just sitting in camp, I could see 5-6 trees
at least 6 feet in diameter. And surprisingly the understory is not that thick,
I thought there would be some good bushwhacking opportunities, though climbing
through any deadfall would be super hard.
Olympics Vista.
Just
below camp an old bridge had dammed the river. Piled against the bridge was a
stack of logs and boulders. Beyond the logs river rock fanned out to form an
enticing gravel bar. Around the bar are small campsites and below the bridge was
a small waterfall. Above the bar is a meadow that James found on a trip to take
some pictures.
Seven Lakes Basin in the Olympics.
6-27-92
I
woke up in the morning with Buddy standing over me asking if I was going to get
up. I’d slept through he and James packing up and having breakfast. They left
as I was hurriedly eating and packing up. Luckily we just had an easy five mile
hike out to the Sol Duc Trailhead. I enjoyed the forest a lot, it was a fun
walk, just looking up at the big trees. We stopped at Sol Duc Hot Springs and
soaked for an hour. The water was hard and greasy, but it felt great to get
warm and clean. 
Sol Duc Falls.
Next we did some shopping in Port Angeles, hit a brew pub, and then drove to my friend Dave’s house on Bainbridge Island, Dave and Sherry had a beautiful place overlooking Puget Sound at the end of a new development. With early flights the next day we had to call it an early night. This was a great trip for visiting old friends, I hadn’t seen Dave, Denny, or Frank for several years, and it had been a year since I’d hiked with Buddy or James. We’d climb two great peaks and had a beautiful backpack trip, all in the same trip. But Rainier was the big deal, it remains one of our most memorable trips.
USFS Mt Hood Climbing page: https://www.fs.usda.gov/detail/mthood/recreation/?cid=FSEPRD1018659
NPS
Emmons Glacier Route: https://www.nps.gov/mora/planyourvisit/upload/Emmons-Winthrop-Routebrief-2017_FINAL.pdf
