For the Summer of '09, Gene and I decided to climb Mt. Shasta. Previously, I believe it was the Summer of '04, we summitted Mt. Rainier. Shasta is very similar to Rainier, reaching it's apex at 14,179 feet; Rainier is 14,410. 250 feet difference -- no big deal for us mountainous manly-men.
We left ridiculously early from Folsom on a Thursday morning and made it to the town of Mt. Shasta at a reasonable time in the early afternoon. We grabbed our permits and some valuable information from the Ranger's office in town and were on our way, headed up Shasta's foothills to the Bunny Flats Trailhead.
From the trailhead you could look up and see the route and the summit -- a little daunting but nonetheless a sight to see. The hike starts out fairly easy through some treed terrain and up to a ranger's outpost. Then, leading up to more difficult terrain is a boulder staircase. After this, it's all uphill and quite steep. It was a warm day and Yo-Yo and I were making good progress yet gasping for air. I just remember being exhausted on this part of the hike and going to my happy place. It's hard to go to your happy place with a 40 pound pack on, dreadingly steep terrain, and 80 degree temps. The summit continuously beckoned, urging us on.
At last, after perhaps 5 hours of struggle, we made it to the intermediate stop, just on the edge of a glacier. Many others were camped as we would; we would all attack the summit in the morning. Gene and I had some grub, melted water, set up the camp, and threw our customary nerf football. We slept with the howling wind for a few hours then awoke and were of with our headlamps, crampons, and day packs for our summit attempt. Our Rainier experience gave us the wisdom to get out of camp early; we were the first to break snow.
Being the first group out of camp in the darkness, we relied heavily on the headlamps. We ascended a broad snowfield which was very steep without landmarks to navigate. Gene and I had a good pace and after an hour or so noticed other headlamps just leaving camp, on our trail. We were shooting for a crease in the red banks to ascend; unfortunately we missed by a half mile or so. To get back on track, we'd have to descend or continue on a more dangerous route along a ridge buttressed by a glacier. What to do? What to do? We decided try the ridge route, which would have worked out quite well if it were not for some gymnast-like moves we had to make to stay along the ridge and out of the bowels of the glacier. I am writing this blog though, so we made it. After the red banks, we continued the still steep ascent during the sunrise. A few more hours of climbing and some howling wind on the ascent and the summit was in sight. Gene and I were still ahead of the crowds and we about to be first to the summit until some super-guy came roaring up from a different route on the other side of the mountain to steal our glory!
We snapped some photos on the top and of course had our victory beers.
With our discovery of the glissading technique, the way down was fast and furious. Glissading is basically a fancy term for sliding down the mountain on the snow while using your crampons and ice axe to control your speed. This was pretty awesome and really made the descent to the intermediate camp really fast. On the way down there was an incident with a lady who was learning to glissade. I don't know what was going through her head but it wasn't good. As she glissaded she was not controlling her speed. She gained speed quickly and within a few seconds was out of control heading straight down the glacier to certain injury. A good nearby good samaratin saw the situation and sprinted to intercept her and tackled her, arresting her slide. In the process of the rescue the rescuer's crampons lacerated the glissader's leg which was a serious injury at 12,000 ft. We later learned that the rangers hiked up to assist and get the injured lady off the mountain. Don't underestimate the dangers of climbing and descending the mountain.
Gene and I descended safely and went back to the town of Mt. Shasta to enjoy a tasty hamburger. Another summit in the bag. Victory.
