Rainier’s Cramped Camp Muir

/ Andrew Szalay / Leave a comment

If you’re trying to reach Mount Rainier’s summit (14,410 ft./4,392 m.), most climbers pass through Camp Muir on its southern face. It makes sense. At 10,080 ft. (3,072 m.), it is the most accessible fixed camp to any trailheads to get you in position for the summit day, assuming you are trying to get up and down in two to three days.

It is named for John Muir (of course) because it is located at the same location that he, Philemon Beecher Van Trump and five others camped in during the ascent of August 1888. The site was suitably protected from some of the winds that strike the mountain by the nearby rock features. Since then, the area has been a common halfway point when ascending from the Paradise Valley.

The first hut was built there in 1916. It was the size of a large bathroom or a small bedroom and its stone walls were three feet thick. In 1921, a bigger hut was established and the 1916 structure was made into the Park Company’s guide house on the mountain and later into a cooking house used by the guide concessions. Today, the National Park Service says there is enough space to sleep 110 people there. But when they say “space,” they don’t mean within the walls of the buildings. While the camp is first come first served, permits from the National Park Service regulate the capacity of the Camp Muir area. Don’t be surprised if you need to pitch your tent nearby.

Climbing guide author Mike Gauthier recommends navigating by compass on the ascent; fog, white out or other conditions of low visibility can make the terrain very difficult to read. He also says a map from the park rangers with compass bearings to Camp Muir is also very helpful. Once you arrive, you can take a rest and take in the view, like at the Mount Rainier National Park’s new Camp Muir Webcam.

The route to the summit from Camp Muir takes several different paths, while the path to camp from Paradise is one herding trail. So in many ways, the route fans out from there, and the 110 capacity is often met in the popular summer months and around the weekends.

It has to be said: This is not a route to gain a wilderness experience. It is popular, crowded and often uncomfortable. People pack into the fixed shelters and sleep very close. Everyone still shares the established toilets. As Bette Filley put it in her book, The Big Fact Book About Mount Rainier, “Some have described Camp Muir as half way to Heaven, while others claim it’s half way to Hell.”

The key is to keep in mind you’re climbing to the summit and not Camp Muir. It’s just a check point along the journey.

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Sources: 1) Gauthier, Mike, Mount Rainier: A Climbing Guide, The Mountaineers Books, 1999; 2) Filley, Bette, The Big Fact Book About Mount Rainier: Fascinating Facts, Records, Lists, Topics, Characters and Stories, Dunamis House, 1996; and 3) National Park Service website.

Lessons from the Yosemite Waterfall Tragedy

/ Andrew Szalay / 1 Comment

There was a tragedy at Vernal Fall in Yosemite National Park last month that you may or may not have heard about. It was given a decent amount of media coverage because there were a fair number of witnesses.  Plus, there have been 17 deaths at this falls since the park began maintaining records.

On July 19, 2011, three hikers at the top of Vernal Fall on the man-made observation deck hopped over the fence and approached the water, made higher and more forceful because of the winter snows still melting from heavier-than-normal amount. During an attempt to take a photo beyond what the park officials deem as safe, they were swept away and over the falls. There were no survivors.

The author of Snowstruck: In the Grip of Avalanches, Jill Fredston, has some fantastic observations about human behavior in nature. She applies it to snow covered mountains primarily but much of it applies elsewhere in wilderness as well. What I want to draw on from her work is the notion that aside from the natural terrain’s condition, our experience, confidence and comfort in the backcountry – or on its fringe – can actually increase our exposure to risk!

Comfort and confidence is an allusion. Fredston statistically demonstrates that most avalanche accidents happen on slopes the victim is familiar with, just as most car accidents happen within only a few miles from home. Where we are comfortable and let down our guard the chances of dangerous incidents occurring rise. Why else do many climbers gash their leg open on “easy” terrain?

This waterfall was primed for power this summer. The Sierra Nevadas received more snowfall and it is still draining down. Vernal Fall is relatively accessible and includes a viewing platform. Perhaps the victims felt their experience in the backcountry said to them, if we were off trail and deep in Kings Canyon, we would just walk up to the water; the platform is just for convenience and for the less initiated.

Similar thoughts guided my buddy and me to hop the fence at Exit Glacier on the Kenai Peninsula in Alaska. In retrospect, this could have gone horribly wrong. Exit Glacier is the most accessible glacier in Alaska. Within a ten-minute or so walk from the car you can take in the blue-refracting ice and glacial silt.

Where a warning sign says it’s dangerous and risk of life and so forth, we jumped the fence, took a photo with the sign and sprinted across the wet-ash-like silt for the glacier. The photos turned out great and we came home unscathed. We could have been pummeled by a ton or more of ice fracturing off.

That’s the other aspect of risk in the backcountry. As Fredston points out in a more articulate way than this: We are likely to do stupid things with our friends. We often defer to the most confident and say to ourselves, it’s not that bad. We ought to listen to our own judgment and risk-o-meter more.

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Sources: 1) Wozniacka, Gosia, “Yosemite deaths a reminder of rivers’ risks,” Seattle Post Intelligencer, 24 July 2011; 2) “Vernal Fall deaths over the years,” Merced-Sun Star, 21 July 2011; and 3) Fredston, Jill, Snowstruck: In the Grip of Avalanches, Harcourt 2005.

Armchair Mountaineers Unite!

/ Andrew Szalay / Leave a comment

The authors of the books we love need our support.

This will interest you even if you’re an active climber, and not the armchair-type…

I am announcing the start of a campaign to encourage you and anyone that appreciates mountaineering literature and guides to support the authors of those books. Where would you be if your favorite hiking or climbing book was never written? Without loyal readers that buy and refer other readers to these books, the authors would not be given the chance to share their knowledge with you. These authors need your help.

Climbing Authors on a Precipice

Here is something you probably didn’t know and should realize: The segment of the publishing industry that provides you with outdoors and mountaineering literature is very small and fragile. The publishers that print the books we enjoy often don’t print many copies – maybe a few thousand, unless they are publishing works by Jon Kraukauer or David Roberts. For example, The Mountaineers Books, the publishing arm of the Mountaineers based out of Seattle, Washington prints about 25-30 titles a year (down from 40-45 before the American Recession) – most of which are guidebooks. This is according to Publishers Weekly. Now consider this:

  • Promotions – The authors have to overcome a lot of obstacles in order to be published and promote their book – most of which they must do without their publishers’ help, contrary to common belief that the publisher-alone sells the book.
  • Sales – Authors have to sell new books in order to make a profit. That used book by your local author you bought at a discount didn’t help put money in her pocket to climb and write again.
  • Referrals – Many book buyers today are nervous to purchase books they never heard of by authors they don’t know. Those books often go unreviewed on booksellers’ websites and without any word of mouth or electronic chatter. This could hold back the publishers of our favorite genre from printing new copies and investing in other great works by authors you might enjoy.

Suburban Mountaineers for Authors

Here is where you come in: In order to keep the books you love in print you need to help publicize them! One of the best way to sell a new book in a buyer-be-ware market is through word-of-mouth referrals and quality reviews on the Internet.

As of today, I am asking readers of the Suburban Mountaineer to buy these books and review them as part of my new campaign: Suburban Mountaineers for Authors.

Together, we will read and review the latest books, talk about them on Facebook and Twitter and on our blogs. If you don’t have a blog, send me your reviews and I will post them on The Suburban Mountaineer and attribute them to you.

Click on the Suburban Mountaineer for Authors page on the right of the homepage and get clear, easy guidance on how to help. I’ll also let you know how to contribute your reviews to be posted on The Suburban Mountaineer.

If you are an author of a climbing book or guide, please contact me as well so we can help get the word out about your work.

Thanks again for visiting the Suburban Mountaineer.  If you enjoyed this post, you can follow me on Facebook or on Twitter.

Mount Rainier Wilderness through Floyd Schmoe

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A Year in Paradise: It has a little climbing, a little nature and a lot of outdoor living. (The cover image was provided as a courtesy by The Mountaineers Books.)

I recently read a book by Mount Rainier National Park’s first on-staff naturalist and an early professional guide of the peak. A Year in Paradise by Floyd Schmoe, originally published in 1959, and reprinted by The Mountaineers Books in 1999, tells about the first four seasons he spent in the Paradise Valley in 1920 after World War I. It tells about the natural splendors of Mount Rainier and the enjoyment in struggling with wilderness living.

The story is true and told in a positive way that promotes the idyllic qualities of nature. Others that don’t enjoy nature would surely only perceive the suffering of wilderness living, though Schmoe certainly doesn’t promote it that way.

After the war, Schmoe and his wife moved to the Puget Sound area looking for work. He is lured to Mount Rainier in January with the same intoxication that draws climbers. On a lark, and without any climbing experience, he seeks a job as a guide. Fortunately, he doesn’t lead the uninitiated up that easily, but his timing was impeccable because the park needed to station two people at the Paradise Inn to satisfy the insurance provider’s requirements; one other building’s roof had already caved in because of the 30 feet of snow. They dug their way into a their winter home, tended the roof, learned to ski, recorded weather readings and conceived a child (not surprising) that season.

During the spring, Schmoe moved out of the Paradise Inn and into one of the many tents that were scattered in the Paradise Valley. He and his pregnant wife would live here while he learned to be a guide. He explains the role of being a guide and also provides several anecdotes with some groups on the lower part of the mountain; he did not start heading to the summit until late in the season. On one occasion he relays a story of being lost and having a member of his guided party doubtful of his navigation capabilities.

Schmoe was not yet a naturalist when he live this life in 1920, but his skills and knowledge of the parks flora and fauna as well as the glaciers and their now long melted caves that he acquired since then and by the time he wrote this book were well integrated.

While the book did not take some opportunities for drama — mainly because of the perspective and the author just coming out and telling you everything — the book is a pleasant and informative read about living around Mount Rainier. It might be a little romantically inclined toward the land at times, but I’m okay with that. I wouldn’t have said it any differently.

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Yes, I Said Full Grain Leather Boots: Asolo TPS 520

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Allow me to present the TPS 520 boots from Asolo. They are classics.

Regrettably, some people today don’t generally embrace a certain quality about these boots: They are made of full grain leather. Quite a few hikers have abandoned leather altogether in favor of mesh, vinyl and plastic molding for support and comfort. Those new-style boots get good ratings in the gear guides. You might even own a pair and love them, but here are some reasons to not dismiss these classics.

For background, these Asolos have carried me through hundreds and hundreds of miles in the Adirondacks, New Hampshire’s Whites and Vermont’s Greens as well as long stretches in the Chugach Range and Garibaldi Provincial Park. They have treaded over mud, scree, granite, snow, ice and at various points had crampons and snowshoes strapped to them. In fact, they’re story – and The Suburban Mountaineer – recently helped me win a year’s membership with the American Alpine Club compliments of Asolo USA.

Interestingly, I discovered an almost prejudiced attitude about full grain leather boots among other hikers my age and younger when I moved away from the northeast to flat, humid Peaklessburg. I had just come to town and needed to get new boots for the upcoming season. I was looking at three pairs of boots all at similar price points, except the sales guy was pushing me into the lighter, mostly mesh and vinyl boots. He expressed concerns about how heavy and warm the leather boots could get. I was a little puzzled, but stuck to my convictions and bought them.

Later I went hiking in the Monogehela National Forest. They performed great and I didn’t think much of them — always a good sign of reliability. As the summer heat and humidity reached the high 90s (as it frequently does here, sigh) I wore the boots less; then again, I wasn’t going out hiking in this weather either; I’m from Upstate New York and I’m built for a much cooler and colder climate.

After living in Peaklessburg for a while, I visited the northeast to Vermont and hiked Mount Mansfield. This time I wore my light hiking mesh and vinyl running shoes. It was late spring and it rained the day before. If you do the math, that means moisture, dirt, grime on the outside of the shoes, the socks and my feet. I wished for the TPS 520s and for the chance to illustrate what I knew to be their strengths to the fella pushing the light hiking shoes exclusively. Clearly, he just didn’t hike in these conditions.

The last thing I want to point out is the pleasure of having well broken in leather to support you when you’re standing and walking. If you ever heard cowboys in movies romanticize about how their boots are the only way to go… it’s true for me too with these boots.

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Rarely Visited Sikkim: 2010 Expedition

/ Andrew Szalay / 2 Comments

Paul Swienton on the summit of Lama Lamani with Jopuno in the background (Swienton personal collection, rights reserved 2010)

Day dreaming of alpine mountains that are rarely seen and trampled by Westerners can be difficult these days. The Khumbu Valley may seem like it is being overdone. Going to Patagonia is hardly remote any more. The solution might be the Sikkim region of India, which is wrapped in Nepal, China, Tibet and Bhutan.

I recently learned of the region and its potential from alpinist Paul Swienton of Maryland at the Blue Ridge Section meeting of the American Alpine Club (AAC). Swienton was a member of a 2010 expedition of Scottish mountaineers lead by Geoff Cohen, who lead other Highlanders Bob Hamilton, Richard Isherwood, Steve Kennedy and David Ritchie. Together they intended to make only the second ascent of a new route on Jopuno (5,936 m.) in West Sikkim.

Sikkim was explored in the early days by Alexander Kellas — the first authority on high altitude mountaineering — in 1907 and 1921, but was virtually inaccessible for nearly 50 years while China, India and (to some extent) Nepal squabbled over the rights to Sikkim. During that period, few ventured in to climb or hike. The disputes were resolved in 2004 and Roger Payne and his wife Julie-Ann Clyma stormed in to establish themselves as the Western authorities on the climbing there. Payne’s article on Sikkim in the 2008 American Alpine Journal inspired the 2010 expedition.

Swienton reports on the 2010 climb in the upcoming 2011 American Alpine Journal. If you are an AAC member you can read it now before the book is in print in the members-only part of the website. I won’t repeat what he reports on there, but rather provide some interesting and informative pieces that the expedition learned in 2010.

While the expedition’s main objective was Jopuno, the team also climbed the west face to Lama Lamani’s “North Top” (5,650 m.) for a second ascent by a new route and Peak 5,500 m. (between Jopuno and Lama Lamani) for a first ascent.

The expedition attempted Jopuno last and worked to establish a feasible new route for its second ascent. However, due to dangers on the other proposed routes, the group decided to climb the original route up the West Ridge. In addition, one of the climbers was not sending at full strength due to altitude sickness. Around 5,450 m., the team roped up again on another icy section to attain rock, though covered in snow. Further up, the “black rock” section (a stretch of 300 m.) was slow going and it became clear that the day was spent. Fortunately, this climb was more about exploration, camaraderie and alpine climbing.

Conveniently, these were all day climbs from the expedition’s high camps (approximately 4,900 m. for Lama Lamani and Peak 5,500 m. and 5,100 m. for Jopuno.) This allowed the expedition to function to keep gear higher up and maintain a full-working base camp with a kitchen (and plenty of Scotch whiskey) below.

The 2010 expedition members received much helpful guidance from Payne. He recommended the staff of Sikkim Holidays located in Sikkim to serve as the travel agent. The staff, including Barap Namgyal Bhutia, were extremely helpful in making transportation arrangements from Kolkata and Delhi (depending where the expedition members flew in to) all the way to Gangtok and Yoksam, as well as working with the Indian government on the expedition’s behalf.

One piece of advice from this expedition to the next says when hiring guides and porters in-country, be sure you know ahead of time who is expecting to be fed and what their role will be during the journey. There was a little surprise when the porters did not come “self-sufficient” and were expecting to fix ropes on the slopes to boot. So much for the alpine-style climbs! Fortunately, the expedition’s positive attitude won the day and the trip went smoothly.

Over all, the journey gives one hope in virgin peaks in, untamed exotic locations. In fact, consider this last point: there is no rescue service in Sikkim. So many other areas have infrastructure to be ready for the unthinkable. Here, it’s still wild.

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Sources: 1) Paul Swienton of Maryland, USA; 2) Jopuno Expedition 2010 Memorandum/Report by the expedition party; and 3) Payne, Roger, “Emerging From the Mists: The Sublime Alpine Peaks of Sikkim, India,” 2008 American Alpine Journal pp. 112-127).