I grew up outside of New York City, so for me, when I think about what running through the city is like, I categorize it into three buckets.
There’s always at least one good lesson learned for every trip I go on. It’s only appropriate then, that when a few of us went out for the trip of our Glacier/Crevasse Rescue course, the lessons we learned from our AIARE course were one of the most important things reinforced that weekend, in addition to how to rescue myself and my team out of a crevasse.
I’m staring down at my feet, watching them move one in front of the other, willing them to gain distance and elevation with each step. Every time I look up, the crest of the hill isn’t any closer and the storm is engulfing the summits of the surrounding peaks. It’s Seattle-Rain right now—I’m getting wet but I barely notice.
Kaytlyn is about 20 feet in front of me and I’m wondering, “Is she having this hard of a time as well? Where’s my groove?”
The dust was finally settling on an abandoned trip plan, and from that cloud emerged a free, high pressure weekend in the mountains. As crowds rushed to Fred Meyer to pick up last minute Ameri-brews, Hot Dawgz, and all the ABC’s of BBQ’s, Brad, Katy, and myself rushed to make a decision on what to do during the weekend after America Day.
After spending Friday recovering from Fourth of July shenanigans and finishing up tasks for work, we packed snowboards, crampons, ice axes, bits and bobs, and some delicious wraps into our car and began the slog down to Mount Hood.
I’m not sure if nostalgia is the right word. It wasn’t quite the feeling that “I’d been there before”, but more of “This is familiar. This feels right.”
As the view sank in, the breeze picked up: the fresh alpine air that feels like the antithesis to every city breath.
The weekend of June 21st, a weather window aligned and Brad, Brian, and I headed down to hike up Mt Adams, a 12,281 foot stratovolcano in the south Washington Cascades and the the second highest peak in WA behind Rainier. It’s mostly made of Andesite (and that’s what the rocks on the Lunch Counter are mostly made of) but for all intents and purposes, this was a snow-field climb. The mountain is beautiful, and the south climb is justly popular because it’s accessible and not very difficult.
I know this is long, but to write a short trip report on such an excellent, mentally-and-physically challenging day wouldn’t do it justice.
TL; DR: This was my and Christian’s first desert tower and first true multi-pitch trad rock climb. It was wild.
It started by winning a silent auction from the Washington Wildlife and Recreation Coalition:
“Hi Ely,
Just wanted to let you know that you won the John Roskelley climb… Congrats!”