By Guest Blogger, Kristen Oliphant, 2018 participant of the WNPF Climb for a Cause

We hope this story from last summer’s WNPF Climb for a Cause will inspire you to ‘OptOutside’ for some unforgettable park experiences this Friday. Starting in 2015, REI boldly closed their stores on Black Friday, paid their 12,000 employees to spend time outdoors and invited America to join them. That year, 1.4 million people and 170 outdoor companies, nonprofits and organizations joined them, building to more than 700 organizations and 7 million people today. In their words: ‘… while #OptOutside began as an idea to do the right thing for our employees, it has become a movement far larger than us. The concept links directly back to our beginnings as a co-op. REI was founded by 23 climbing friends in the shadow of Mount Rainier in 1938. They came together, imagined new ways to get outside and changed the way people access the outdoors forever.’

If you told me a year ago I would climb Mount Rainier, as well as raise funds for WNPF, I would not have believed you. As I reflect on those days on the mountain, I can’t help but think it was all a dream.

Two Beers Brewing was selected by WNPF to raise awareness and funds for Washington’s national parks by giving us the chance to summit Mount Rainier through a partnership with International Mountain Guides. We were overwhelmed with gratitude and excitement to be given this opportunity of a lifetime. With the generous support of our coworkers, friends, and family we reached our goal for this campaign this past summer and were more than ready to begin this adventure.

DAY 1: It’s finally here, the day we have been anticipating. We arrived at Paradise early morning, gathered our packs from the van, took a group photo and were off. I felt a wave of a million emotions — excitement, anxiety, nervousness, solemnity, happiness — as I had been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever. Starting at 5400’ in a pool of clouds, we had 4.5 miles to hike with a daunting 2.2 mile vertical climb up the Muir Snowfield. In the middle of our trek I heard a thundering crash, not just once but twice and I knew it had to be an avalanche. I instantly felt this tightness in my chest and all these thoughts started entering my brain: “Where did that happen? Did the guides or anyone else hear it? Am I losing my mind?” I wanted to ask but a part of me didn’t want to bring it up, like it almost didn’t happen. After our third snack break filled with lots of chocolate espresso bars, we had our final push to Muir and our chatter drastically came to a halt as we laser focused on our breathing and our steps.

And finally there it was: Camp Muir just barely peeking out of the clouds. We got situated in our bunks, refueled and had dinner. Two of our guides, Keith and Patrick, whipped up some insanely satisfying burritos, making sure they catered to all our dietary needs (gluten free, vegetarian, vegan). After stuffing our faces, Johnny delivered the news we suspected. An exceptionally large icefall took a 2,000 foot plunge right over our route. Johnny let us know there was a chance our summit attempt might not happen. My heart sank along with the rest of the group. We looked at each other with wide eyes in silence, letting the news sink in. We listened to Johnny explain how he and Keith were going to assess the icefall the following day, and then they would make their decision about whether we would attempt the summit.

With that plan in mind, we looked around us and realized the fog had disappeared and we were now encompassed by blue skies and sun. Our views were endless: Gibraltar Rock, Cowlitz Glacier, Cathedral Rock, Little Tahoma, Mount Hood, Mount St. Helens and Mount Adams. My eyes needed windshield wipers; it was breathtaking. A beautiful end to our first day.

DAY 2: We met at our guides’ tents at 8 am for a delicious breakfast of pancakes and coffee. Scottie (a fellow climber) and I took breakfast outside and both said that, no matter what happens, just making it this far and having this moment was enough. Two guides took off to check the icefall and two others began the ‘Ice Axe 101’ class, which consisted of us rolling around on Cowlitz Glacier with our ice axes yelling “Falling!” and kicking out lots of snow. I’m sure the average bystander would think we looked ridiculous but we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

Around 12:30 pm we began our ascent to Ingraham Flats (11,200’), quickly entering Cathedral Rocks. Climbing on unstable rocks with crampons, while also avoiding plummeting boulders, was quite the conundrum. During this part of the climb, my heart rate intensified, breathing got heavier by the second and lots of sweat emerged in uncomfortable areas. The incline got significantly steeper during the final push up to the top of Cathedral Gap and I could not wait to be off the rocks. Finally, we made it to our break spot on top of Cathedral Gap with a rewarding view of Little Tahoma. We continued on our way to camp for the night. The formation of the snow along the route was one of the coolest sights; it was like walking through the top of a lemon meringue pie. Finally, though, we saw the ice fall and its destruction path that had happened the day before, and everything got real.

At camp we took off all our sharp objects, refueled, learned about the wonders of the blue bag (our glamorous portable toilet), and then spent the rest of the afternoon napping, admiring our views of the Cascade range and Little Tahoma, as well as being enamored by the insanely long and deep crevasse about 75 feet from our campsite. Thankfully, there were no sleepwalkers in our group. Johnny and Keith made it back to camp and delivered the news we were anticipating – they were pulling the plug on the summit. There were too many unknown variables, one most importantly being the mountain wasn’t reaching freezing temperatures and they didn’t want to put us and themselves at risk. This heartbreaking news made the danger even more real. Johnny wanted us to continue to play on the mountain, so tomorrow’s agenda would be climbing to the top of Disappointment Cleaver Glacier.

The night’s sleep was not the easiest. It was still light out when we settled into bed and it got colder with each passing minute. There were only a couple layers of sleeping pads between us and the snow, and my friend Sarah and I both woke up in the middle of the night freezing. I put on another layer, making my final layer count at six. She opened a bag of chocolate macadamia cookies which we devoured and almost immediately started warming up.

DAY 3: Wake-up call happened at a mighty early at 3 am. We awkwardly grabbed our headlamps in the middle of the darkness, shuffled about our tents, put on our boots and headed to the guides’ tent. We cozied up for a comforting breakfast of hashbrowns, bacon and coffee.

The climb from Ingraham Flats to the top of Disappointment Cleaver was substantially more intense than what we had experienced the last two days. Within the first 20 minutes, we had to take a “stroll” over a crevasse on one of the most questionable ladders I have ever made contact with in my life. It was not level whatsoever and was about as wide as our boots. Every inch of my body tightened as I gathered up all the courage I had and crossed over trying so hard not to look down into the depths. Back and forth through switchbacks, up and up. I couldn’t help but look out and watch the sun inch higher above the horizon, illuminating the world with each passing second, guiding us up the mountain. We were off the rock portion of the climb and in the part of the climb known as the crux, which is 1200’ of climbing on the steepest slopes of the entire route. After a lot of sweat and anticipation, we made it. We were at the top of Disappointment Cleaver (12,300’) and could see what felt like the entire world. The mountains, sky, and horizon were never ending. For the longest time, I had looked at Mount Rainier and dreamt of the day I’d be standing on my own two feet on one of the glaciers. Here I was, standing on Mount Rainier looking down. It was more beautiful than I could ever imagine and a sense of peace and calmness came over me. I felt alive and more in the moment than I ever had experienced before.

We roped back up and got ready for the descent back to Ingraham Flats. We were set to go and out of nowhere Keith looks at me and says: “Alright, take the lead.” Wait. WHAT?! Well this news was unexpected. I had never done anything like this is in my life — descending down one of the steepest slopes on the mountain, trying to locate the route step by step, keeping my balance, finding my footing, trusting my footing. The descent down was just an intense as the climb up. There were flags along the route guiding the way, but sometimes those flags disappeared or maybe my mind was playing unnecessary tricks on me. With each step gravity played its part and the weight of my body and bag made each step feel heavier than normal. It was something I had never conquered before, but I found my groove and out of nowhere we were back at camp.

We gathered our equipment and roped up and made our descent down to Camp Muir. This descent was equally challenging as I tried to keep a slow and steady pace while also trying to locate the route. But thanks to Patrick helping me lead the way, we made it safely to Camp Muir. We ate our hearts out and drank some coffee and prepared to make our final descent to Paradise.

This time on the snowfield was a complete 180: the sun raged in the sky with not a single cloud anywhere. We were told to glissade with our boots, i.e. treat them as skis. Some of us are gifted in this department; I am not. Thankfully the cold snow felt refreshing so I didn’t mind making contact with it every so often. We headed down at what felt like a marathoner’s pace. As much as I wanted to keep up with everyone, I also wanted to savor those last moments.

With every slide we got closer and close to Paradise. The snow became rocks, the rocks became concrete, and now we were surrounded by trees, flowers, and floods of people. We arrived and were greeted by Laurie, the Fund’s CEO, with a bright smile and hugs for everyone. As we set our packs down and took off our boots, I looked up at Rainier and thought “I know Mount Rainier in a way I never envisioned.” I, along with the others, climbed one of the most magnificent mountains on Earth. Yes, there were unfortunate circumstances that kept us from summiting, but we pushed ourselves, we thrived in harsh environs, we tackled what seemed insurmountable. Everyone kicked it: no one got altitude sickness, no one got hurt, we laughed together and accomplished this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. We had each other’s backs; we had the guides backs; we had The Mountain’s back.

“In every walk with nature, one receives far more than she seeks.” – John Muir

Kristen Oliphant works for Two Beers Brewing and Seattle Cider Co. She participated in the Two Beers Brewing Mount Rainier Climb as part of Washington’s National Park Fund’s 2018 Climb for a Cause.