mt. baker
come rain or shine
Mountain: Baker
Altitude: 10,786 ft | 3,286 m
Location: North Cascades, USA 48.7767° N, 121.8144° WSo here I am, lying on the floor of the tent in the base camp of Mt.Baker which is basically a paddling pool. The wet sleeping bag is making me more cold, than warm and I barely want to turn to another side, to say nothing about getting out to climb. But the gods of the mountain were benevolent and by midnight the rain turned into light snow. And we joyfully (as it is possible to be joyful when waking up at midnight and putting on your climbing gear) were off to our summit day.
Being caught in the rain in the city is unpleasant. Your hair and clothes get wet. When you try to dash to the nearby ledge, the splashes from puddles leave unpleasant marks on your shoes and trousers. However, it’s a completely different thing to be caught in the rain on the mountain, while carrying a heavy 50-pound backpack full of climbing gear, cold-weather clothes, tents, and ropes over four miles. And since the crests of the Northwest mountains are the wettest locations in the U.S. it is hardly surprising that only after an hour of hiking we had to take out our rain jackets.
I love snow and ice. My crampons make me invincible: they help me balance on anything whether it’s a 10-degree incline or a 90-degree one. There is something soothing in hearing the sound of my crampons biting into the snow: “crack-crack -k -k “. So every time during the climb when my body tried complaining and my thoughts wandered into the territory of self pity I forcefully reminded myself about the luck of weather conditions. So with the feeling of gratitude for the snow, I made my way up through crevasses for about five hours.
Before the climb I asked a friend who has climbed Mt.Baker about the notorious Roman Wall. He said, “You will know when you will see it”. On every turn, on every steep, hard part I was wondering if that was it, if that was the Roman wall. But when we approached a steep slide I immediately realized what he meant. The wall looked like a double black diamond, except we did not have skies and we had to go up. And up we went. No stops, slowly huffing and puffing. And since we climbed during Labor Day weekend I was thinking that if this climb is not the epitome of labor, I don’t know what is.
The summit looked like a football field — white and flat. It was a shame we didn’t bring a ball. Just a camera to snap a couple of pictures. Our descent was also blessed with sunny conditions. When we reached base camp the rain had started again. There was no time for celebration, just haste to pack gear, and tents and get down as soon as possible. Another 4 hours in the rain separated me from the conveniences of civilization, but this time the rain was just a background for my celebratory memories of the sunny summit.
