A Man's Gotta Know His Limitations (Cool Hand Luke!)

I fire up the internet and this greeted me. It made me think about how, when young, you think you are nearly invincible. Perhaps this old gal had some hubris or was screwed by the weather. I'm inclined to think it was the weather. Someone who writes about hiking the Cascades probably has a bit of experience in them and knows of the dangers.

I'm no experienced technical climber. In fact, I'm a couple of steps above “climbing the stairs” in difficulty. They use the Yosemite Decimal System to grade climbs. Here is a list and I qualified for position #3 at thirty years old. The only reason I managed this was that I was in decent health when I told them Windy Ridge wasn't fun enough for me, I wanted to go into the crater.

Here's the Classes:

Class 1: Walking with a low chance of injury.

Class 2: Simple scrambling, with the possibility of occasional use of the hands. Little potential danger is encountered.

Class 3: Scrambling with increased exposure. Handholds are necessary. A rope can be carried but is usually not required. Weather changes increase hypothermia risk. Falls are not always fatal. (I like this...not always fatal)

Class 4: Simple climbing, with exposure. A rope is often used. Natural protection can be easily found. Falls may include lifetime crippling injuries or be fatal. Hypothermia now becomes a greater threat.

Class 5: Technical free climbing involving rope, belaying, and other protection hardware for safety. Equipment to protect from weather is mandatory. Handheld or backpack telecomm (no cell phones) is mandatory. Un-roped falls will result in death. Hypothermia will result in death and can happen within hours. Hypoxia can occur and will result in death.

So basically, Class 5 is: “will result in death” if you fuck up in the slightest way.

Mount Rainier is a Class 5. I told you before how I ignorantly thought about climbing Mt Hood. It's another Class 5. It's only 11,000 feet up you know! The officials at the checking station of Timberline Lodge hotel forbid me from even thinking about it.

Here's a cool pic of Timberline with Hood in the back. If it looks familiar, it should. This is where Jack Nicholson's The Shining was shot.

Anyways.

What amazed me on Mt St Helens, in late July, was how fast the weather can change on you. At 5,000 feet, the air is thinner and you'd expect it to be cooler, and it was when I started my hike at Windy Ridge. Late July up that high, it was about 50 degrees and sunny. As I made it into the blast crater, you're increasing in altitude but at a rate that you really don't notice, as the grade is easy enough to manage. The tough part is that your walking on the moon. The gravel, rocks and fine volcanic dust moves under your feet. Two steps forward, three back.

Then I see clouds coming over the top, blotting out the sun. I thought it was just momentary, as it seemed to be moving quick and they're just clouds, right? They're just simple clouds you encounter at sea level.

Within a minute it envelopes me. I was being pelted with horizontal sleet, ice pellets and baby hail stones. The temperature dropped fast and the wind was howling. I kept going, but with the idea that being dressed for downtown Portland summer weather might not have been the best idea.

Five minutes later, the sun comes out, the temperature soars within minutes and the sleet around me is melting fast. This wasn't Diamond Hill in Cumberland. I learned quickly that this is REAL and you had better watch your ass. I guess there was a reason why the Park Service demands that you sign in when you tell them your going into the crater, so they can drag your silly ass out later when you muff it up, all the while mumbling, “fuckin' tourist wannabe” as they carry you down.

That old gal was doing a Class 5 on Rainier...Jesus...what guts. The spooky thing is that just prior to her, six others met their Maker trying to achieve Rainier a week earlier. They turned into Popsicles. As much as I enjoy exploring curious places, I don't want to freeze to death in them, or fall and land on a boulder the size of my own house and go splat.  

South Rim of Mt St Helens. The red X is where I started my little hike, by that lake.