The Mount Baker Experience

by Sandy Paiement on Monday, January 25, 2010 at 12:02pm

It was a hot July 1, in the year 1972 1973 - funny how it is so hard to remember dates as you get older.

We were a party of six climbers, and made our way to the trailhead the evening before the hike. We threw our sleeping bags down on the gravel parking lot and oh God - I think that was the toughest part of this sojourn.

Up at 3 a.m., we packed our gear and started up the trail - in the darkness. Without coffee, without breakfast! Yeoww - that was excruciatingly painful. At least I had my cigarettes - aahh.

With the dawn fully broken at 6:00 am, and after three hours trekking up a steep muddy trail, we came to where the snow line began and took a break. Oh my - finally we made coffee. We didn't linger there for too long, and each just had one little cup of coffee, along with something to eat, which came in a bag and stirred into melted snow in a pot on the meager little bunzen burner flame.

Now on the snow, and the trail becoming steeper, we headed up a vast snowfield, and within an hour or so, were stepping up the toe of the glacier. We passed a few people who had camped on the snowfield overnight and were getting ready to head up the mountain. Oh - they had ropes and axes and all kinds of climbing gear, and here were the six of us flying by them as if we were on a stroll in the park. All we had were ski poles and crampons, which we carried in our packs.

As we climbed higher, large cracks appeared in the glacier - it was tough going, because we had to traverse around these crevasses, looking for a safe place to cross. After a couple of hours, we made it over to the north side of the craggy rock pinnacles just below the saddle area, the crater wall. There, we looked down into a giant hole, from which steam could be seen venting from a little frozen lake in the caldera. That was very exciting.

By noon, we made it to the saddle and once again, had a bite to eat. At this point, three of our party decided to stay behind, feeling they just could not face the final surge to the top on the south face, which is a at full forty-five degree inclination. I was not one of them. Terry Halverson, my husband, Guenter and I continued on.

Strapping on our crampons for the final ascent, we headed up. The air is very thin up there, and it was necessary to slow the pace down to a crawl - basically taking one step, pushing up and counting off three to five seconds before placing the next foot. And each step was really tiny. About half way up, an hour later, Guenter fell behind, having trouble breathing, and Terry also slowed down because, brave soul, he decided to carry his skis up this incredibly steep mountain, so he could enjoy the thrill of skiing down.

So it was, about an hour later, I placed my feet upon the summit and was the first one to make it there. Wow! The wind was whipping up the snow and stinging my face, and if you wanted to cry tears of joy, you didn't dare, because they would freeze to your skin, it was so cold up there. I was the only human being in this majestic place for a little while, at least. Terry and Guenter eventually made it up about ten minutes behind me. It was so cold, the camera had a frozen lens and shutter and was not functional. What a shame, we didn't have photos to keep to commemorate this moment.

After a brief 10 minutes of jubilation and high fiving, we headed back down, Terry strapping on his skis, and Guenter and I placing our jackets under our rear ends and bum sliding down the glacier. Terry disappeared beyond the saddle, and I had to stop myself from sliding as the fear of falling off this glacier over the cliffs at its edge, and into the void bordering the snowy slope gripped me. Rolling over onto my belly, and digging my ski pole into the ice, I eventually slowed, and continued sliding cautiously the rest of the way down. What had taken two hours to climb was a only a few minutes coming down. What a rush!

Of course, even more caution was taken as the sliding continued down the vast glacier with the crevasses appearing out of nowhere! Foolish or fearless - I leave that to the reader to decide. At the time, I didn't seem to consider it as anything else but fun!

A total of fourteen and a half hours were spent on this hike, eleven hours going up and three and a half hours coming down, and had lots of time left over in the day to have dinner and lots of beer at our campsite, and celebrate Canada Day.

...and I have been celebrating Mount Baker ever since!

 

 

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