Mt. Rainier National Park

Summer '22 Trip - Part 2

Dates: 7/11/22 - 7/12/22

Crew: Martin Brzozowski, John Patton

Locations: Mt. Rainier National Park, Gifford-Pinchot Natl. Forest

Overview

Mt. Rainier, or Tahoma, is the most heavily-glaciated peak in the lower 48. It is the highest mountain in Washington and the Cascade range at 14,411', and the most topographically prominent in the lower 48 at 13,246 feet. That means when you face down this behemoth, you're seeing almost all of it rising in front of you, unlike mountains in the rockies that rise 3-4 thousand feet above the Colorado plateau. It is intimidating to see from the ground, from all directions hundreds of miles away, and even punching through the clouds to rise up to your height as you fly in to Seattle. 26 glaciers and 36 square miles of snowfields blanket it and make it a mountaineering wonderland. 

The original master plan (see Mt. Baker) had us cruising up Mt. Baker in 2 days and then repeating that feat on Mt. Rainier. After my unanticipated problems on Baker, waking up to a brutal pain in my left calf and both feet was an instant reminder that any far-fetched dreams of waltzing up to Washington and summitting two volcanoes back-to-back were dead and buried. Martin and John were raring to go still, but also feeling the effects of our previous climb enough that they reconsidered their route from the Kautz Glacier to the Disappointment Cleaver, the most well-travelled way up the mountain. I didn't want to sit moping in John's apartment, so I tagged along with loose plans for how to spend my own time there enjoying myself.

When we reached Panorama point, about 2.5 miles and 1,000 feet of elevation gain later, I said godspeed to the guys and found myself alone on the giant. I knew I could backtrack the snowy trail we had taken back to the visitor center, but first did a little more exploring back and forth along the skyline trail and reaching a high point that looked down on Panorama itself. I even found a friendly stranger who took my picture with the mountain.

I even found a marmot who had no interest in me (or in running from me) and did a little photoshoot with him. At the same time, Martin spotted me from high above on their continued slog and took a couple of cool shots of me as a tiny tiny part of the landscape.

The views were unreal- I could see Mt. Adams, Mt. St Helens, and the Tatoosh mountains. The moon was rising, the sun was setting behind Rainier, casting the massive mountain into shadow, and sunbeams were streaming thickly into the valleys below me. Instead of starting my hike back (the smart thing to do if I wanted to get back before dark) I grabbed my camera and went to work. I'm particularly proud of this series showing the dramatic changes of the Mt. Adams skyscape.

The sunbeams made the air feel visceral and thick. I started hiking down and passed through several of them, with motes of dust around me glittering in the fading sun. On my left, a long shadow cast by Rainier developed and overtook the land before the sun went down enough that I found myself sliding through snow in the dark. I made it back to the car incredibly pleased with myself for getting some kind of enjoyment out of the lost climb, but in a lot of pain with my injured calf having worked hard to keep me upright on the unstable hike.

Day 2: The Tourist Experience?

It was a long night. While Martin climbed on far above me (they slept from 12-2 at Camp Muir and then rolled right into their summit bid), I realized I didn't have a campsite in the park. I could have driven all the way out to the National forest roads outside the park gate, where camping is free, but it takes a LONG time to get from the gate to Paradise and I was only working with 1/4 tank of gas in John's car. Instead, I decided to make the most of the night and attempt some astrophotography. When in Rome right?

I drove to nearby reflection lake, lured by the promise of getting stars, Rainier, and Rainier's reflection in one glorious shot. Arriving around midnight, I realized it was still way too light- I needed the remaining bits of sunglow to leave, and the moon to leave too before the stars could shine. I fitfully napped in the driver's seat of the pullout parking lot before stumbling out of the car at 2am to try my hand. It was cold. I threw on my gloves, beanie, and puffy and slid down the snow to the icy edge of the lake.

For an hour, I froze my fingers off trying to balance my camera on a carefully constructed pile of snow. Most of my attempts were on trying to get the reflection of the mountain- I was at reflection lake after all. But it was too windy to get a clear picture and most of my pictures just didn't come out. This was still my first few days with my new camera, unfortunately. At the end of the night, I have one real shot to show for it (or at least one I actually like). But this makes it all worth it:

I then drove back to the climber parking lot. It's not allowed to sleep in your car, and I still didn't have a site nor could I reserve one now. So I surrendered myself to a truly miserable night shivering in the car at 5000 feet in very cold temps. I alternated between sitting outside just gazing at the mountain with the tiny winks of climber's headlamps, wondering which were John and Martin, and curled up in the trunk of the car napping/accumulating warmth. Needless to say, I was very glad when the sun came back. 

I spent the rest of the day doing normal tourist activities in the park, which felt weird. My ankle was way worse today so I minimized hiking and instead enjoyed views from Reflection lake, Louise Lake, Bench Lake, Snow Lake, a few scenic turnouts, went through the visitor center, and then reading in a rocking chair outside the Paradise Lodge with the other old people. John and Martin returned from their successful summit at 4 (blazing fast time!) and it was back to Seattle for us. Next stop, San Francisco!