Gary Ritchie

Mount Rainier's grudge against me has lifted, and I reached the summit July 24, 2008.

I was climbing with two fellow Microsoft serfs (Michael and Rick), led by Doug, an experienced mountaineer who, among many other achievements, climbed Mount Everest earlier this year.

The four of us spent the night at Paradise Lodge, crammed into a room barely big enough for one.

We began the hike to Camp Muir around 10:45 am on July 23. We started in the fog, but broke free around 7000 feet to stunning views of our objective.

We took our time getting to Camp Muir, taking breaks to enjoy the scenery, and arrived about 3:00 pm. Melting snow on our stoves became the top priority, ensuring we would have sufficient water for dinner and for our climb later than evening.

After approximately 39 seconds of sleep, we "woke up" at 10:30 pm to begin the climb. The sky was clear, and the moon was slightly more than half-full.

I was uncertain what to wear, it was very warm at Camp Muir, and very little wind. I opted for a bit more insulation than I thought I would need on my legs. It's a major hassle to change leg-wear during the climb. I wore light long-underwear, lightweight hiking pants, and my Gore-tex shell pants. My legs rarely get cold, but they also rarely get overheated. For my upper-body I wore a long-sleeved lightweight undershirt, and my Gore-tex shell jacket. For footwear I had my Asolo Expert GV GTX boots, which proved plenty warm enough for this mid-summer climb. I'm glad I didn't rent plastic boots.

We roped up and headed out across the Cowlitz Glacier around 11:30 pm. We reached Ingraham flats in about an hour and took a break. By then the expected cold-wind had not materialized and I was down to wearing just my shirt. During breaks I did throw on a down-parka, however, as I cool down very quickly when stationary.

We reached the top of Disappointment Cleaver in a little over another hour. If this pace had continued we would have reached the summit very early and had a long wait for sunrise. Around this point, however, Michael and Rick started feeling the effects of altitude (and possibly a stomach bug) and our pace slowed as we started the long steep slog up the Emmons Glacier at around 12,500 feet. Parties we had passed earlier started to pass us. Still, we kept moving, and when the sun rose at around 5:30 we had only about 800 feet to climb, but boy, that last 800 feet felt like three trips up Mailbox Peak.

We entered the crater around 6:30 am, found a sunny spot near a steam cave, and collapsed to the ground. The conditions were unbelievable; absolutely no clouds, and absolutely no wind. Dead calm at over 14,000 feet.

After we forced ourselves to eat and drink a bit, we mustered the energy to do the final hike across the crater and the final hundred feet or so to the tippy-top: Columbia Crest at 14,411 feet. Though I was feeling the altitude, with a mild headache and a bit queasy (and burping up the combined flavors of three different types of Cliff's Shot Bloks), I got to the top ahead of the other guys. When I looked down thought I saw them heading back to where we had dropped our gear. I figured they must have decided they felt too crappy to continue.

So, I had somebody else at the summit take my picture, and then I took more photos and then walked around the crater rim to the summit register where I signed in. At that point it struck me: after over a year and a half of training, and two previous foiled attempts, I had made it! As I pondered my personal reasons for tackling Rainier, I formed some crazy-ass mystical beliefs about what the mountain has been telling me on these three climbs, and then wiped away some tears.

Mount Rainier is incredibly massive. Even when you are standing on its summit, it still dominates the landscape.

I reached our gear stash back near the crater entrance, and could make out the rest of the team standing on the summit. Oops.

There was no way I was climbing up there again, so I stretched out on the snow, covered my eyes, and passed out. I think I was asleep for something like 45 minutes, though I can't be sure. I remember having some conversations with Evan, my eight year old son, but I'm pretty sure he didn't follow me up the mountain.

Eventually the team returned and we had some other climbers take a group shot as we prepared to descend.

The trip down was uneventful, but felt like forever. To our considerable surprise, we eventually found ourselves back at the car in Paradise, and headed for a feast of Scale Burgers in Elbe.

During the climb I remember thinking, "Man, I feel like complete crap. I'm never doing this again."

Now I'm pondering when I'll do it again.

Complete set of photos are at http://www.flickr.com/photos/garagorn/sets/72157606373028454/.