I have been climbing mountains in the Cascades for my entire life, but somehow had never attempted Mount Rainier. That changed when our friend Rio texted saying he had a permit for Camp Muir – this was the perfect chance to finally have a go at the iconic tallest peak in Washington State.
Our permit was for multiple nights, which would give us some additional wiggle room in our schedule to play with should we need it. A warming period was forecast to begin after July 4th, with the hottest days (of the year so far) on the 6th and 7th, so we were hoping for a successful summit on the 5th to get out before things really started to warm.
Katie, Rio, and I set out from Paradise at around 10:45 am and it was already HOT. After dodging the hordes on the trail all the way until near Panorama Point, we finally hit consistent snow and began the slog up to Camp Muir. It’s a relentless climb, especially when weighed down with a heavy pack, but we put one foot in front of the other and made it up in under 6 hours.
That evening we set up camp, melted a bunch of snow for cooking and drinking water, and chatted with the rangers who were going around giving updates on conditions and ensuring everyone was prepared for their climbs. There was a fun energy around the camp as people were gearing up for their climbs that would begin in a few short hours.
We got a few hours of restless sleep before the alarms woke us in the 10 o'clock hour. We chose to start even earlier than we had originally planned because of the incoming warm weather. As the climbing ranger told us the night before, he had never regretted waking up earlier for a climb than necessary, but he had definitely regretted waking up too late.
We put on our harnesses and crampons and roped up in a tired haze and joined the conga line of climbers leaving camp at 11:15 pm. Before leaving I absentmindedly placed a few rocks in our tent to weigh it down should the wind kick up. It was exciting to be headed out across the upper Cowlitz, but we were a bit concerned by the sheer number of other climbers setting out and the possibility for bottlenecks.
After scrambling up Cathedral Rocks Ridge to access the Ingraham glacier, several guided groups took a break at Ingraham flats, and we used this as an opportunity to scoot ahead and put some separation between us and the other groups. There were some monster crevasses starting to show on the Ingraham, which were spooky to see in the dark, but we routed around them no problem and passed through the major rock and ice fall areas with no issue.
Before long we were climbing the Cleaver, which was mostly class 2 crumbly volcanic rock. By now the wind was blowing hard, and we would get pummeled with dust and ice when it would gust. We took a break at the top of the Cleaver at about 12,300 feet and I let the thought of turning around creep into my head if the wind got much worse.
Above the Cleaver we were lucky that the wind never really got any worse. There were some fixed lines above 13,000 feet that we clipped into (thank you guides!) and an epic ladder at 13,200’ which surmounted a serac.
Once above the ladder, the crevassing got less intense, and we could tell there wasn’t too much mountain above us to be climbed. Katie, Rio, and I were all feeling good altitude-wise, so we continued up to the crater rim. Here the wind was pumping again and it was bitterly cold, but that didn’t stop the feelings of elation that came from reaching the summit crater.
Rio and I continued across the vast snowfield in the crater, while Katie chose to take shelter from the wind and tuck herself into some rocks while she waited for us. It was cool to see some steam venting from the crater as we crossed to the other side. Once there, we walked along the length of the ridge and made sure to stand on the SW rim. (I was interested to hear a few months later that Eric Gilbertson found this spot to be the new true summit of Rainier now that Columbia Crest has melted in the past decade or so). The wind was blowing hard, but it was still an amazing feeling to be standing on top of Mount Rainier.
On our way back across the crater, we witnessed the sun rising above the rim, which was a special experience. As we got back to Katie, we chose to hustle down to get out of the wind. The temperature started to increase as the sun came out on our descent, and we were soon carefully downclimbing the ladder and fixed line section.
The Cleaver felt like even more of a jumbled mess on our way down, but we made relatively short work of it. Then, it was time to move quickly across the Ingraham to get out of rock and ice fall danger. We hurried across and were soon safely back at Ingraham Flats.
As we traversed back into Camp Muir and came within sight of our tents, our hearts sank. Katie and I’s tent was lying crumpled on its side, and it appeared that some other climbers had put some more rocks on top of it to keep it from blowing away. But that wasn’t the worst of it...Rio’s tent was completely gone! Vanished without a trace. He had put in good snow stakes and done seemingly everything right, but the wind had still taken his tent. We asked around camp a bit if anyone had seen what had happened to it, but didn’t have any luck. We assumed it was long gone in the bottom of a crevasse or a creek somewhere. This put a damper on what was otherwise a great trip, but we had no choice but to continue down.
On our way down from Muir we met up with my parents, which was a fun surprise! They had hiked up from Paradise and were nearly at the camp when they crossed paths with us. They had come bearing snacks and even offered to take some of our stuff down – so nice! To top off the good vibes on the descent, Rio began to pick up rumblings that some people had seen a red tent amongst the rocks on the climber’s right side of the Muir snowfield. Lo and behold, he was able to find it! It had blown almost two thousand feet down the snowfield. The tent itself was damaged, but everything inside was intact, which was a huge win!
The rest of the trip down was a slog but with my parents and the found tent buoying our spirits, it went quickly. Afterwards, the crux of the trip may have been the drive home. All three of us took turns driving as the waves of fatigue started to set in.
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