I'm three days away from starting up Rainier and I can't wait to get started. Of course, climbing Mt. Rainier isn't just about the three day climb. Most of climbing Mt. Rainier is the training beforehand. RMI — our guides on Rainier — recommend a six month training window, minimum. I'm fairly certain that I'm in better shape than your average American, but I didn't know I was going to be climbing the mountain until the beginning of August so I've only had about a month of dedicated preparation time.
A compact time line has lead to a very aggressive training schedule, I've taken one to two days off per week, max. So while I feel like I've made the most of my time, there's still a nagging concern in the back of my mind that I'm not 100% physically prepared. But it's just two days of pain, right? How bad could it be?
There have been a couple of, um, "highlights" during my training. Mt. Rainier is essentially like climbing stairs for two days so I've spent a lot of time on the infamous Crestwood stairs (211 uneven, oddly sized railroad tie steps in Kirkland). I quickly discovered that there's really no good way to ease into doing stairs. After my first session on the stairs (1 hour with a 50 pound backpack on) I was unable to stand on my own. My legs were quivering so badly that I couldn't keep myself vertical without the aid of the railing. After a 15 minute recovery period I felt better and decided it was time to go home. I attempted to back my car out of the parking lot but I had absolutely zero fine motor control in my legs. They were shaking like mad as I tried to shift into reverse and I immediately stalled my poor car! Fortunately your muscles get used to the new form of punishment quickly and I'm happy to report that there have been no stalls since day one.
I've since upgraded from the stairs to a somewhat short but extremely steep hike just outside town. On my first trip out I didn't know exactly how far it was, but figured starting the hike at 7:00pm would give me plenty of time to get to the top and back before dusk (9:00pm). I arrived at the peak on schedule, at 8:00pm. After a quick victory lap around the summit and started my hike back down, figuring I should be back at my car by 8:45 at the latest. This is where I learned lesson number 2: hiking downhill is much, much slower when you're carrying a lot of weight. Hiking downhill is usually faster than going uphill and I was shocked to learn just how slow I ended up going when saddled with 50 extra pounds.
So where does this extra time down leave me at 9:00pm? Not at the bottom, I can tell you that much. It was so dark that I couldn't really even see the trail anymore. Desperate for a source of light I pull out my cell phone and use that to illuminate my path. However it gets so dark that I really can't see a thing. I end up taking 2 or 3 steps at a time and then stopping to sweep my cell phone around, looking for some sign of a path. Not a well designed plan.
It gets so bad that I even ponder calling home. I run through the conversation through my head: "Hi mom! It's dark and I'm still on the trail and I can't see where I'm going. Can you and dad drive out here with a couple of flashlights and come rescue me?!" That's a phone call I wasn't looking forward to making. Fortunately, just as things start start looking hopeless, I smell a very powerful and wonderfully familiar scent: the stench of a pit-house bathroom! That can mean only one thing: I'm very close to the trail head. Much like Tucan Sam, I follow my nose and and am able to successfully navigate the final couple hundred feet to the parking lot. That's the first (and hopefully last) time I've been thankful for the stinky sanitation of overused trail heads.
Speaking of sanitation, have I discussed how that works on Mt. Rainier yet? Maybe that's a story for another day... Today was my last big training hike: a 6 hour monster trek through the Cascades that has left my entire body exhausted. But do I feel like I could do it again tomorrow, if it meant getting to the top of Mt. Rainier? Absolutely yes! I think I'm ready, but there's only one way to know for sure. :)
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