Mount Baker — Saturday, Jul. 8, 2023

The best thing about summiting a mountain, any mountain is the after climb/hike feast. I dreamt of double stacked cheese burgers fresh off the grill or a large deep dish pepperoni pizza with a giant Caesar salad. 

I sat in my tent after a pretty gluttonous mountain meal; shredded seasoned chicken with a Cole slaw topping and BBQ sauce with a hot apple cider for dessert. Our guides cooked up a pretty tasty dinner. It was now 8pm and I needed some sleep prior to the 3am wake up call. I tossed and turned on my inflatable Therma-rest. It was nearly impossible to get comfortable on that thing. I dozed in and out of a slumber until about midnight when I got unbearably too cold to not cuddle up in my sleeping bag. I was too lazy to get it out initially and now I regretted that decision. My inReach read 12:01am and wake up was literally in less than three hours. And here I am, still a rookie mountaineer struggling to make such an easy decision- get the sleeping bag out, curl up in it and fall asleep. 

"Get your bowls and come to the mess tent!" yelled one of the Guides.

"Already?!" I mumbled to myself as I snapped on my headlamp. I had everything preset in order to make getting ready a breeze. Harness already set up, all I had to do was slip it on. Gaiters laid out. All I had to do was lace up my boots and put them on. Crampons stayed in the carrying case until we were about to depart. I slipped my sun shirt on, pulled my cap down and stumbled out of my tent. Struggling to gain my mountain legs through the short walk to the mess tent was harder in the dark. I slid into the mess tent and murmured a "good morning". I ate my oat meal in silence. 

Back at my tent, I got all my gear together and started putting stuff on; helmet, harness, grabbed my ice axe and trekking pole, pulled on my crampons and stood next to my tent awaiting direction. I could feel my heart beat in my throat. My nerves were shook. It was go-time. Our guides gave us one more friendly reminder to bring glacier glasses- if someone forgot theirs, unfortunately there'd be no summit attempt for that unlucky individual. 

We scaled the rocks for about 10 minutes before we were led onto the Easton Glacier. Baker stood tall. An enormous mountain of rock, ice and snow stood before us welcoming us to conquer it. The twilight was slowly fading as the sun crept higher and higher. Stars slowly disappeared as the moon faded. We dug in. Step after step working our "duck walk" and "rest step" up the slopes of Mount Baker. 

The objective seemed clear. With every passing step we worked towards what was called The Cauldron. A steaming hole near the top of the mountain spewing hot vaping water and sulphur. It was quite an experience to witness let alone sit by it for ten or so minutes. The Guides were really good about keeping us on schedule. We would climb for about an hour or so and then rest for ten minutes. Packs off. Re-up on sun screen, sip some water and eat a snack. "eaters are summitters" they'd repeat to us, over and over again. It was true, though. Although, we weren't moving at an alarming rate up the mountain, our goal was to conserve as much energy as possible while climbing. The rest step was key to meeting our objective and refueling up along the way was paramount. Eat even if you didn't feel like it. 

We sat at The Cauldron watching passing teams coming down and going up. One of our team members had to call it quits due to severe leg cramps. Surprisingly, my legs didn't feel tired at all. But then again, and not to discount any training they did or didn't do but I trained for this climb for ten months. I focused on long, slow runs, weighted vest runs, long hikes, and many, many hours on my Rogue bike. I also spent significant time in the gym strengthening my core and legs. Even so, I wanted to quit. When I learned that one of our team members was going back down with one of the three Guides that led us up here, I wanted to throw in life's proverbial towel. I had an out. I wanted so bad to take it. But that's the mental back and forth that went on. All that work for ten months. Nearly a thousand feet left to the summit. All that time spent training and now a weekend away from family and friends and the creature comforts of a flushing toilet, a soft bed, warm food, coffee at the press of a button .. and you want to quit..now?

"Packs on! Gear up! Let's get this Roman Wall!" The Guides hollered.

Oh, it was really time to punch in. The Roman Wall was no joke. 45% sloping angle of Mount Baker. The final push to the top. The Guides reassured us that this would be the hardest we'd work and then it was smooth as butter for the last 200 feet. I'm not going to lie. I shocked myself that I made it up that thing. There's one section near the top of the Roman Wall that's all dirt and mud and I was up on the tips of my crampons to make it. We were all huffing and puffing at the top. Even one of the Guides. Coming down was going to certainly be interesting.

July 6th, we started out with nine climbers. At Gear check we were down to eight. On July 7th, we were down to six. At the Cauldron, we were down to five. Just the five of us. We trudged on. Roped up like on an assembly line. The tip of the true summit popped into view. It looked like it was five miles away. I could see two or three climbers on the top of it making their way down. As we reached the base of the true summit, I wanted to be done. I didn't want to walk another step. We took a five minute break here, dropped our packs and got some water. The breaks we took really helped. Aching shoulders from carrying pack weight, tired legs and morale beat into the ground. The breaks pumped life back into us. The water rejuvenated our tired bodies and the snacks we ate got us back on our crampon clad feet.  This was the moment. Quitting again entered my mind. I even mumbled, "I'm not going up there". What about a cool photo with an ice axe? Or the missed opportunity to sign the summit registry? This moment, this one right here was why you came. This is a must. The Guides preached, "going up is optional, coming down is mandatory." Well, I disagree. I had to make this. This was mandatory. 

One step at a time. Digging those crampons in. I put one foot and then the other on the summit of Mount Baker. It was like a dream. 15 years ago, I could barely hike Rattlesnake Ledge without severely cramping up. Even five years ago, I struggled on Vesper Peak and before that, I struggled on Hidden Lake Lookout. Easy day hikes now, (in hindsight) but back then I wasn't training as hard as I had for Mount Baker. Standing on the summit of Mount Baker, for me was a true testament that your results will vary depending on how much work you put into your goals. We hugged, we high fived, we took our photos- the summit to ourselves for about ten minutes before another team started their last push to victory.

Back at the base of the true summit, we roped back up, gathered all of our gear, reveled in our success, grouped hugged one last time before our long descent down. It would be plunge steps nearly the whole way. When we reached the Roman Wall, our Lead Guide put us on a short rope and put me out front to lead us down. He guided from the rear, occasionally giving directions but for the most part, set us up to cross into one of the switchbacks and back onto the main tracks back to The Cauldron. Once we got to The Cauldron, our Guide put us back on a long rope and we headed out. 

Hours went by, and we finally reached a little rocky island where our Guides finally took us off the ropes. It hadn't really sank in yet. My legs were a little tender, not entirely too bad like I thought they'd be. I wasn't in too bad of shape- I felt fine. Being that this was my third outing in my mountaineering boots, my feet felt great. My boots were now officially broke in. All my gear held up and I was excited to get back to camp. 

I envisioned a group of people at Camp standing in the rocks clapping as we arrived. I envisioned dropping gear and reporting to the mess tent for celebratory drinks and food and laughing and high fives all around. I envisioned this over inflated party with banners and all the trimmings just waiting for us when we got back. 

"Okay, team! Great work! Dinner is at 6pm, you are free to do what you like- explore, just don't wander too far from camp, get some water, snacks, take a break..." said one of the Guides. 

The truth was; many people summit Mount Baker daily. It's not some major accomplishment that the world has to stop and pat you on the back and hold you up on their shoulders parading you around camp. For most people, Mount Baker is the entry way into Mountaineering. It's a slight bump in the road to bigger and better things, bigger climbs or for some... off the couch, can I do this? Maybe I over trained for this. Maybe I trained just enough. Mount Baker is an achievable goal. For those thinking about it, it's an experience of a life time. Was it hard? I think so. But having trained as much as I did, made it less hard. 

I sat in my tent staring up at the ceiling. The big black letters, (backwards) "The NorthFace" stared back. You did it. Tears welled up in my eyes as I read some bible passaged sent to me by family members. Those people standing at camp applauding and cheering for me? They existed. They were at home. Waiting for me to return. The love and support I received that propelled me up Mount Baker was very real. The hours I spent training and working for this was very real. This wasn't some major Mount Everest expedition to me but to those who supported me? Maybe they viewed this as an Everest Expedition. This was their little Everest. And that's where the true gratitude needs to be syphoned towards. Love who supports you, and tell them how much you appreciate them. Because without support, you won't climb any mountain.  

As I sit here writing this trip report, I think... now what? In three days time, or even two... it'll be back to training because there are more mountains to climb. Life continues. The sun comes up and the sun goes down. Tomorrow is a new day. 

Go get your Little Everest.