Because Shasta was "in the neighborhood" (~5-6 hr drive from San Jose), my friends were doing it, and I clearly had no idea what I'd gotten myself into!
On 7/23-25, Tanya, Esther, Jenny and I went on 3-day Shasta summit climb with Shasta Mountain Guides. I can say without a doubt that even with the perfect conditions that we experienced that weekend, there is no way we could have done this trip on our own. I was definitely not prepared for the grueling mental and physical exertion required for this endeavor! A mountaineer I am not. Though for some reason, I do look very happy in the pictures.
DAY 1: Bunny Flat (6880') to Horse Camp (7880')
Here we are, the whole group at the trailhead at Bunny Flat! Don't we look happy and relaxed? That's because we haven't started yet. ;)
The first day's hike was actually quite pleasant. It was a warm sunny day, and besides the adjustment to the weight of our 35+ lbs packs, the hike was not unlike others I have done before. We reached Horse Camp and happily rested in the shade, filled up on cold, refreshing Shasta spring water, and set up (okay, watched our guides set up) camp.
Resting in our tent! We fit 4 girls in a 3-person tent.
Then: snow school! A bit of a wake up call and a warning of things to come. We learned about the "rest step", pressure breathing, and how to walk in snow- to follow the footsteps in front of you and create a "staircase", to use an ice axe as a third point of contact, to lessen the angle of the climb with switchbacks, and to move at a slow and steady pace instead of the "dash and crash".
Still looking quite chipper after our first taste of snow! Little did we know of what was to come...
DAY 2: Horse Camp (7880') to Helen Lake (10,400')
Since Horse Camp was the last toilet (solar-powered composting toilet, very clean and actually not stinky at all), we tried valiantly to empty our bowels prior to leaving, with varying degrees of success. Too much information? Yes, maybe, but if discussing bowel movements make you uncomfortable, then I would seriously reconsider a trip up Shasta, where you would have to pack your poo and carry it down the mountain yourself. Seriously.
The hiking was tougher on this day, mostly due to the snow and the elevation gain. About once an hour, we were allowed to take a rest break, during which we would drop our packs, sit on them, and munch on our high-calorie snacks. Dried mango never tasted so good. Here we are on one of these breaks:
From our base camp at Helen Lake, we had quite a view of the following day's climb. In the distance you can see the Red Banks, the flat reddish region in the center, at an elevation of 12,400' (about halfway to the summit from Helen). We were told by the guides that many people who turn back on the climb decide to do so during the ascent to Red Banks, which is punishingly steep and also where people start to really feel the effects of elevation sickness. On summit day, we would be racing the sun to the top of the Red Banks. Looking a little more tired here...
During snow school day 2, we learned how to use crampons, do self-arrest with our ice axes, and glissade (basically slide down the slope on your butt, using the ice axe to control speed). We had another delicious dinner (chicken and black bean burritos, with salsa and guacamole) and a debriefing on the events of the next day (summit day!), packed our summit bags, and retired to our tent at ~7pm in an attempt to sleep. Unfortunately, little sleep was to be had. Did you know that sleeping on snow is cold?
A little note on the logistics of packing your poop here. Each "poop pack" consists of 1 sheet of thick legal-size paper with a target on it and 2 paper bags with cat litter in them. You are supposed to lay down the target paper, put some rocks on it to hold it down, squat over it and poop on the target. Then you pour the cat litter from 1 bag onto it, fold it up and put the whole thing into the first paper bag, put the first paper bag into the second paper bag, and put that whole thing into a plastic ziploc bag. Each person has 2 poop packs. If you have to poo more than twice, well...then you hope one of your friends has a pack she doesn't need, or you divy up your own poop packs. Then the problem...what to do with these ziploc bags? Find a place in the snow for them until you come back for them on the way down. Oh the joys of mountaineering.
DAY 3: Helen Lake (10,400') to Summit (14,162'), back to Bunny Flat, then back to San Jose aka THE LONGEST DAY EVER
We were "woken up" at 2:30am. I use the term "woken up" loosely, because we were all really lying awake fitfully waiting to be called to get up. After a quick breakfast, gear check, and putting on all our harnesses, crampons, helmets, headlamps, etc, we finally set off on the day's climb at ~3:45am. The mountain was pretty- with several groups already climbing, we could see little rows of headlamps working their way up the mountain. It was also good to start in the dark, when we could not see how much farther we had to go.
The climbing was difficult. The only way up was to follow the two steps lit by your headlamp in front of you and to maintain a rhythm between your steps and your breath. It was peaceful and in a way, meditative. There's a beauty when you're in the middle of a task so enormous that you can't think about the whole thing at once, just the two steps in front of you. By the time the sun rose, we were almost at the Red Banks.
The last part climbing up to Red Banks was definitely the hardest for me. With the ground no longer snow-covered at the top, we were stomping up slopes covered with scree (basically broken rock fragments), which would slip underneath each step. Each step had to be chosen carefully on our own, with no footstep left by the previous person. Worst of all, with the extra weight of the crampons hanging off my feet, my knees were screaming with every step. Eventually, somehow, we made it Red Banks for our lunch break.
After lunch, more climbing:
We were so happy to see Misery Hill, the last big effort before reaching the Summit! Despite its name, Misery Hill was not bad. The hill before Misery Hill was worse.
After about 8 hours of climbing, at a point of total physical exhaustion, we summitted together!! Here we are sitting at the tallest point of Shasta.
We signed the log book to prove we had made it.
View from the summit:
And then: the descent. At this point it seems appropriate to quote Vincent from the movie GATTACA: "You want to know how I did it? This is how I did it, Anton: I never saved anything for the swim back."
Yup, pretty tragic. I'm quite certain that the only way my feeble knees and I were able to descend this mountain was by sitting on my butt and glissading down. For anyone who has not done it, glissading on snow is like riding down a water slide for hundreds of feet at a time and is basically THE BEST THING EVER! It really makes the climb worth it.
Don't we look happy? :D
I'm going to stop recounting the trip in detail here, because returning to base camp in broken physical condition, packing up our tents, putting our poop packs at the top of our bags NEXT TO OUR HEADS, and laboring our way 4 miles and 3000' back down to the trailhead while carrying our 30+ lb packs was really not anyone's finest hour, and certainly not the part of the trip that anyone cares to remember. :P Needless to say, this climb was one of the toughest things I have ever done. By the time I made it back to San Jose and climbed into bed ~3:30am, I had been up for over 24 hours.
I am so, so, so, so, so, so proud of us. Would I do Shasta again? Probably not.
But would I do another mountain?
Hmm...I think so. :) There's already talk of Mt. Whitney next summer...
0 comments:
Post a Comment