Bob and Rob on the Summit

On the summit, after 8 hours of climbing. Four hours of down-climbing to come....

Photo by John.

(More Pictures soon)

Climb Note

Plaque at Camp Schurman, elevation ~9600 ft:

Into a cloud sea far below
I lonely watched the red sun go.
Then turning, miracle of glad surprise
Enchanted saw the full moon rise.

-G. E. Schurman

...Which is another way of saying:

Made it to the summit Thursday, 6/26, at 10:30AM, after 8 hours of climbing.

Egad.

Rough Itinerary

Here's a quick and dirty itinerary. The summit attempt will most like be made either Wednesday or Thursday. But Tuesday or Friday are also possibilities. A lot depends on the weather. Map images below can be seen larger by clicking on them.

• -(Rob Flies to Seattle Thursday 6/19)
• -Sunday afternoon (6/22): Drive to mountain, hike from White River Ranger Station (4400') to Glacier Basin (6,000').
• -Monday (6/23): rope up and climb the Inter Glacier from Glacier Basin, over the South side of Steamboat Prow (at 9,000'), drop down to the Emmons Glacier, climb to Camp Schurman (9,500'), where we'll spend the night Monday. Note that the Camp Curtis "campground" noted on the map is actually not much more than a rocky area on the southern ridge of Steamboat prow.
• -Tuesday (6/24): Climb a few hundred vertical feet to a spot on the glacier called Emmons Flats. This crude (and not very flat) location will be our base camp for the rest of the journey. Most likely we will spend Tuesday practicing rescue techniques, strategizing, and getting used to the altitude.
• -Summit attempt(s) will be up-and-back from Emmons flats, probably leaving camp at 1AM or 2AM. It will take an estimated 7-9 hours to reach the summit, 3-4 hours to descend back to camp. A LONG day.
• -One web site describes the route this way: "From Emmons Flats, ascend the glacier to "the Corridor," a prominent glacial feature that rises higher than the rest of the Emmons. Access the Corridor from 10,000 ft to 10,300 ft depending on the year. The Corridor tops out at 11,200 ft. At this point, the route becomes steeper (30 to 40 degrees) and will take a variety of directions depending on the year, glacier movement and snowfall. It is not uncommon to traverse over on the Winthrop and ascend its shoulder to the Bergschrund. This crevasse is the usually the highest on the mountain and may involve down climbing and belays to cross. Frequently it can be circumnavigated however there have been times when climbers traversed around to the Disappointment Clever route. Access the crater rim at 14,250 ft. It's a short southwesterly walk from here to the true summit and climber register."
  

The Mountain is Out (Again)

Click above image for (much) larger version (Flickr photo by Stephbu).

To have a look at the general view of our climbing route from Camp Schurman at Steamboat Prow to the summit, GO HERE and hold your mouse over the image to display landmarks.

Years ago (when The Kingdome still existed), Seattleite Bruce Barcott wrote an homage to Mount Rainier that tried to capture its mystique. I'm not sure that it does, completely, but it comes close (excerpt):

When it rises like a misshapen moon over downtown Seattle, the mountain entrances me, arrests my attention, and rouses my imagination; it makes me weave on wet highways.

On early mornings Rainier wakes above siesta-rate motels on Highway 99, above the waterfront's dromedary cranes and the grey dimple of the Kingdome, above the Space Needle and the Columbia Tower and Tokyo-bound 747s and everything that lives and everything that doesn't, as far as the eye can see. Rainier wakes higher than most of the air we breathe. The sight of it has nearly killed me. More than once its spell has been broken by the headlights of an oncoming car bearing down on my southbound self speeding along the northbound lane. The mountain never appears in the same place with the same face twice. It possesses a Cheshire talent for appearing and disappearing at will. From the highest hill it may lie shrouded in mist, only to show itself an hour later from the middle of Puget Sound. People who have lived in the Pacific Northwest all their lives still stop and stare when Rainier reveals itself. The moment crackles with the thrill of Nature being caught unaware, like seeing an eagle snatch a sockeye from the Sound. On clear winter days the Olympic and Cascade mountains flank the trough of Puget Sound like a fence of whitecapped waves. We've got mountains like Iowa's got flat. And yet the local vernacular admits only one "Mountain," and when Rainier rises we tell each other, "The Mountain is out." Mount Rainier is at once the most public symbol of the Pacific Northwest and its most sacred private icon. A friend once disclosed that she says a prayer whenever she sees it. A stranger I met on its high southern flank told me, "You must love this mountain as much as I do," but his reverent tone of voice told me I couldn't. Lou Whittaker, who has climbed Rainier more than one hundred fifty times, told me about returning home from a Himalayan expedition and catching sight of the mountain and feeling it snap his breath clean away.

Like rain and rivers and trees, the mountain is a continuous presence in our lives, but in our psychological landscape it occupies a place separate and greater than the forests and falling water. We look at Rainier and feel love for a mountain, if such a thing is possible. The mountain inspires in us a feeling akin to spiritual awe: reverence, adoration, humility. We look at Rainier and regard the vastness of God; yet we look at it and claim it as our own. This strange relationship we have with the mountain is romantic, uninformed, even presumptuous. Rainier is a mountain few of us know.

"The Mountain is Out," By Bruce Barcott (complete version)


[Flickr photo by mraaronmorris]

Today's Normal

I've been thinking a lot lately about what "normal" used to be in our lives, and how it compares to today's normal.

To say something I've said before: Fergus' treatment was relatively straightforward and free of "complications" (as they are euphemistically called). And the worst part of the last 11 months (off treatment) has been the paranoia and neuroses that sometimes creep in to life. All in all, though, this has been relatively smooth sailing. Today's normal is certainly not the same as pre-leukemia normal, but we've done okay. And we are grateful that the last 11 months have been "event-free" (to use another cancer-world euphemism).

I was touched recently by a Listserv posting by a mother whose son finished treatment for Neuroblastoma several years ago. You can tell their road has been hard, even post-treatment, but there is grace in their approach to life now, and I am grateful for their example. At the same time, it's telling that nearly a decade after her son finished treatment, she turns to other cancer families to partake of "the aftertaste of treatment." It's a reminder of the war-like nature of cancer treatment; when it's over, we all gather at the VFW hall for a cheap drink and a smoke. And commiserate with the ones who understand.

I'll quote Mary Beth's post in its entirety (with her permission):

To: PED-ONC-SURVIVORS@LISTSERV.ACOR.ORG
Sent: Thu, 5 Jun 2008 7:12 am
Subject: Re: [PED-ONC-SURV] Life after treatment ??

Good Morning Fran,

I also wanted to share my congrats because it is
such a miracle to get to that point one is "off
treatment." My son is a neuroblastoma survivor and
we had so many side effect issues once he was off
treatment, that treatment simply adjusted to those
things. It took two years before those symptoms
subsided. Or maybe I should say "settled out." We
have lasting effects. He has mod-to-severe hearing
loss, he has only one kidney, he still only eats a
very bland diet. He experiences horrible migraine
clusters. That is the way it is - our normal. Off
treatment for us was eight years ago. Josh's body
has changed, has matured, and the chemo shows its
effects. He's entered puberty early. New thyroid
concerns have revealed themselves. His hearing loss
has become active again and he is losing slightly
more hearing. These types of side effects are both
a trumpet and a whisper to me. They are issues that
seem unfair to a sweet boy who already has endured
so much. And he is mature enough to be angry,
depressed, frustrated with it all. He is a young
boy trying to make sense of all that is happening to
him. And the emotions sometimes become intense.
But.....it is all a whisper to the sweet melody of
living with him. Back in treatment, our onc told us
not to worry about side effects as one has to be
alive to have them. And we are gifted this
incredible miracle of still having Josh with us. He
is a light in this world who has some incredible
living to do. And he does it, with the wisdom that
seems to be of someone 80. His spirituality, his
maturity, his sensitivity, his idealism is
mesmerizing. He inspires adults that we know who
battle their own medical issues, and roots them on
saying "If I can do it, so can you!" Life is
sharper after treatment, more intense, more
brilliant. We treasure it all: the blues of the
sky, the butterflys, the fireflies, the soccer games
the time on the beach with friends. Cancer took
with it the worries/concerns/anxiety of normal life
with it. It has left us with a strong connection to
what living is really all about. For better or for
worse. The aches of treatment for me haven't
disappeared, but they are packed away and only
resurrect once in awhile. But they are softened by
the wonder of today and what the day's glory will
bring.

It is lists such as this one that I find the added
peace of being with those who understand. My
friends and family are a wonderful support, but for
them so much of this is behind them. It is this
group that understands the aftertaste of treatment.

Wishing your granddaughter and your family healing
for all you have endured, and good health for many
years to come.

Mary Beth
Mother of Josh, 1/99 dx NBIII, 8/99 NED to present!

Emmons Route Report: June 12

Despite the recent heavy snows, it sounds like the Emmons Route is in good shape, according to the climbing rangers. An excerpt:

"The storm passed and the climbers came out. Over the past few days, the weather turned out to be exceptional. Climbing Rangers climbed the Emmons route on Thursday finding the conditions to be great cramponing with some wind loaded slabs, all of the slabs were easy to avoid and had actually filled in some of the crevasses that were starting to yawn open 2 weeks ago....Overall the Emmons is in excellent shape with great climbing all the way to the summit. With high pressure moving in this week now is a great time to climb."

Happy father's day.

The F45RC1 Mount Rainier Playlist

Living outside of Montpelier, Vermont (with young children) is not conducive to hearing a lot of great new music.

Confession: I say this as I listen to "Classic Rock" radio right now (What is this song? I know it but I can't place it: an instrumental by...Styx or the Electric Light Orchestra?)

Oh! Now they're playing Cheap Trick's "I Want you to Want Me," which can't help but bring a smile to my face. Cheap Trick--with drumwork by one of the best fake-names in rock and roll: Bun E. Carlos.

Erp, even my digressions have digressions.

The point is, you have to work around here to hear any unfamiliar music or even to meet some unfamiliar people. It's a problem.

One solution to this problem is the so-called False 45th Record Club, which basically works like this:

Readers of a locally-written music blog (most of whom are strangers to one another) submit a couple of songs they'd like to share, and these get randomly compiled into a playlist which gets unveiled (and heard) a few days later in the upstairs bar of a local restaurant, at the first meeting of the False 45th Record Club.

And sure, it was a little awkward at first; I didn't know anyone there, unless you count the librarian who used to read the kids books at storytime when Gus was two. But it ended up being a good time. I met some interesting folks, heard some good music, and saw a guy do an impression of my accordion teacher--true small town stuff. Thanks to Brian for cooking the whole thing up (and for the commemorative CDs). I'm looking forward to the next meeting, tentatively scheduled for September.

And with that, I bring you the CureClimb 2008 theme music, courtesy of F45 Record Club #1 (my submissions were songs #11 and #36):

Tour of Our Route: July 2007

For those of you with a lot of time on your hands, you can get a good sense for our route up the mountain (White River Campground > Glacier Basin > Inter-Glacier > Camp Schurman > Emmons Flats > Summit) by starting here...and clicking through the next (and next and next) image in the "photostream" (and no, I don't know these people). In other words, when you get to the starting picture ("And We're Off"), click the area I've circled in red on this little snippet (and so on):

Sunrise at 12,000 Feet

Stumbled across this view of sunrise from the Emmons glacier on Mount Rainier. Little Tahoma in the background. Lovely. Many thanks to Jake at MountainWorld Productions for use of the image.

Here we come. Soon enough.

Childhood Cancer Act Passes Through US House of Representatives

This just came in from the folks at CureSearch:

Dear Friends:

A great day in the fight to conquer childhood cancer, our legislation just passed the U.S. House! The final vote tally was 416-0.

Please post and disseminate as far and wide as you can. We at CureSearch are grateful to our wonderful grassroots community for spreading this wonderful news!

The more awareness we do now, the easier we will make it for passage in the Senate.

Here is the CureSearch press release:

CureSearch Praises Passage of the
“Caroline Pryce Walker Conquer Childhood Cancer Act”
in U.S. House of Representatives

Children with Cancer and their Families to Benefit from Landmark Legislation

June 12, 2008 (Bethesda, MD) – CureSearch National Childhood Cancer Foundation salutes the United States House of Representatives for passage of H.R. 1553, the “Caroline Pryce Walker Conquer Childhood Cancer Act,” which promises to significantly increase federal investment into childhood cancer research.

During markup of the legislation, the bill was renamed the Caroline Pryce Walker Conquer Childhood Cancer Act of 2008, in memory of Caroline Pryce Walker, daughter of Congresswoman Deborah Pryce (R-OH), who succumbed to neuroblastoma in 1999 at age nine.

The bill authorizes $30 million annually over five years, providing funding for collaborative pediatric cancer clinical trials research, to create a population-based national childhood cancer database, and to further improve public awareness and communication regarding available treatments and research for children with cancer and their families.

“For far too long, children suffering from pediatric cancer have gotten short shrift on federal resources,” said Pryce, original author of this groundbreaking legislation.

“The bill we passed today dramatically expands federal investment into childhood cancer research and education, and will make an historic difference in the lives of the more than 12,000 children who will be diagnosed with cancer each year. A nation with our resources, our scientists, our committed doctors and oncologists, and our inherent and insuppressible fighting spirit can and should do more to put an end to so much suffering.”

Congressman Chris Van Hollen (D-MD), one of the original co-sponsors of the Carolyn Walker Pryce Conquer Childhood Cancer Act, stated that conquering childhood cancer has transcended partisan politics, and addresses a critical national issue that is finally receiving the attention it deserves.

“I am pleased that the House passed this important legislation, which will bring us one step closer to eradicating pediatric cancer,” said Van Hollen. “This bill will enhance and expand pediatric cancer research activities at the National Institutes of Health, establish a pediatric cancer registry, and increase informational and educational outreach efforts to patients and families affected by pediatric cancer. No child should have to experience and suffer the effects of cancer, and no parent should have to see their child suffer.”

CureSearch supports the life-saving research of the Children’s Oncology Group, the world’s premier cancer research collaborative. Treating 90% of children with cancer, the Children’s Oncology Group includes more than 5,000 experts in childhood cancer research and treatment, located at more than 200 leading children’s and university hospitals across North America.

"The Caroline Pryce Walker Conquer Childhood Cancer Act allows for translation of the very best research discoveries into clinical evaluation and practice, in order to improve the cure rates for all children with cancer,” noted Gregory Reaman, MD, Chair of the Children’s Oncology Group. “Only research cures childhood cancer. On behalf of my colleagues in the Children’s Oncology Group and the children with cancer and their families who are our partners in clinical research, we thank our Congressional leaders.”

“On behalf of CureSearch, we applaud the steadfast leadership of Representatives Chris Van Hollen and Deborah Pryce and their colleagues in the House who through the passage of this bill have made finding the cure for childhood cancer an urgent national priority,” said Stacy Pagos Haller, Executive Director, CureSearch.

Companion legislation in the United States Senate (S.911), sponsored by Senator Jack Reed (D-RI), cleared the Senate Health, Education, Labor and Pensions (HELP) Committee unanimously in November, 2007. The Senate version of the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act currently has 63 co-sponsors; a full Senate floor vote on the bill is expected this summer.
# # #

About CureSearch

CureSearch seeks to conquer childhood cancer, conquer it sooner, conquer it fully and for all time. Through public education, advocacy and fundraising, the National Childhood Cancer Foundation, a non-profit 501 (c) (3), supports the work of the Children’s Oncology Group (COG), the world’s premier pediatric cancer research collaborative. This network of more than 5,000 healthcare professionals dedicates their lives to finding answers and sharing results. More than 12,000 children are diagnosed with cancer each year, and more than 40,000 children and adolescents are currently in treatment. Only research cures cancer. For more information, visit www.CureSearch.org.

You're not the Only One

Hey, it looks like I have a short piece in a (quasi-homemade) compilation of blog writing, "You're Not The Only One."

See the description I wrote back in February.

My thing was a relapse-fear thing. So you know, buy one. Because everyone loves that sort of thing.



Proceeds support War Child.

Thanks to Angus for the tip.

This Week's Poster Boy?

Have a look.

I've never been a poster boy before. Are there higher standards I have to live by now? Do I have to stop swearing so effing much?

Will PosterBoyHood change Rob Ryan?

Forecast: 7 Below Zero (F) + 45 MPH Winds....

...I don't even WANT to know what the wind chill factor comes to....

...HEAVY SNOW WARNING IN EFFECT FROM 6 PM THIS EVENING TO 8 AM
PDT TUESDAY...

.MONDAY...RAIN AND SNOW. SNOW LEVEL 6000 FEET. 
.MONDAY NIGHT...RAIN AND SNOW SHOWERS...HEAVY AT TIMES. UP TO 15
INCHES ACCUMULATION. SNOW LEVEL LOWERING TO 2500 FEET BY MIDNIGHT.
.TUESDAY...SHOWERS. TOTAL SNOW ACCUMULATION 6 TO 20 INCHES. SNOW
LEVEL 3500 FEET. 
.TUESDAY NIGHT...MOSTLY CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF SHOWERS. SNOW
LEVEL 5500 FEET. 
.WEDNESDAY...MOSTLY CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF SHOWERS. SNOW LEVEL
7000 FEET. 

&&
TEMPERATURE AND WIND FORECASTS FOR SELECTED LOCATIONS.

                       MON    MON    TUE    TUE    WED  
                            NIGHT         NIGHT        

SUMMIT   (14411 FT)      7     -6      6      8     10
                      W 51  NW 45  NW 39   N 30   N 28 

I take it back: It's NOT Simply There

I've been mulling over the excerpt I posted the other day from the Boston Globe, in which Judy Foreman wrote:

"Fight, Ted, fight!"

This mantra, chanted over and over to give moral support to Senator Edward M. Kennedy as he faces brain cancer, drives me nuts. The caring behind it is wonderful; the metaphor is not.

Cancer is not a football game. It's more of an involuntary dance with a partner you didn't choose, more judo than battlefield warfare....

It calls to mind Susan Sontag's book-length essay, "Illness as Metaphor," in which she argued that cancer--like tuberculosis in the 19th century--too often serves as a metaphor to explain outward ills of the world and inward failings of the person. To quote from our dear anonymous friends at Wikipedia:

Sontag shows how both diseases have become associated with personal psychological traits. In particular she demonstrates how the metaphors and terms used to describe both syndromes lead to an association between repressed passion and the physical disease itself. She notes the peculiar reversal that "With the modern diseases (once TB, now cancer), the romantic idea that the disease expresses the character is invariably extended to assert that the character causes the disease – because it has not expressed itself. Passion moves inward, striking and blighting the deepest cellular recesses."

The Judy Foreman piece had resonance, probably, because to chant "Fight! Fight! Fight!" at Ted Kennedy and his newfound brain cancer seems so over-simplistic, naive, and ultimately self-serving. And, you know, you get a certain amount of this from the world at large when you become "a cancer family": the naivete, the sentiment that serves the teller more than the receiver, the ill-conceived advice, even the simple blameless not-knowing-what-to-say of it all. I say all this knowing that I could say harsher things, and yet even these may have overstepped, broken the contract that insists on careful civility--on both sides, really; the cancered and the cancer-free. But I digress.

Resonance.

On the other hand, how can something like cancer--so difficult to get your head around when it happens to someone you love, so mysterious in its causes and outcomes--how can it not take on aspects of metaphor? I mean, look at this Mount Rainier climb: the whole thing is a metaphor. Indeed, even as Judy Foreman argues that cancer is not a metaphor, that "it's simply there," she uses metaphor to try to explain cancer's true nature: it's not warfare, it's judo, it's an involuntary dance with a partner you didn't choose.

Metaphor, like some poetry, reveals its truth by misdirection or sleight of hand, and sometimes it reveals a deeper truth in doing so. And as we dance around the elusive truths of cancer we're trying to uncover (or simply describe) something about it that can't be uncovered directly. But yelling "fight! Fight! Fight!"???? More than anything, this metaphor fails because it doesn't do justice to the complexity of cancer. We're all trying understand the nature of cancer, and to know how to respond to it. But it's clearly not a football game, and chanting at it is simply inane.

So is "climbing it," for that matter. And calling this blog "Cureclimb" is, in itself, kind of inane. We are not going to cure cancer by climbing Mount Rainier. But as a personal act (by the father of a leukemia kid), this climb "works" for me, metaphorically speaking. And I am grateful to everyone who has chimed in with words of support, donations, advice, whatever. One climb will not cure cancer. But hopefully we'll get there, eventually, and cancer can stop carrying all this metaphorical baggage around. A disease, or a set of diseases; preventable, treatable, survivable. THEN it will simply be there.

Rainier Backcountry Trails and Backcountry Report: 6/5

Be prepared for winter conditions. Check avalanche and weather conditions prior to your visit to the backcountry.

NOTE: As of June 2, 2008, there is about 11.5 feet of snow on the ground at Paradise (elev. 5,420 feet). The park received heavy snows this winter and spring with approximately 900 inches of snow at this point. This could lead to a late-lingering snowpack that may well affect the early hiking season in that it will make navigating early season hikes quite challenging. Avalanche danger will be a concern in early season as well.

Crevasse Rescue Training: The Bob Report

Last weekend, Bob headed up to Mt. Rainier for more alpine training. Here's his report (image: Mount Rainier Cam, June 1, 2008):

Crevasse training was way cool, downright chilly in fact. Michele and the kids came down with me and spent the night. We went to Northwest Trek on Saturday and saw all the wild animals there. That was fun. We went up and hiked around some at Longmire and watched the pools bubble up. I had to carry the sleeping Henry - the boy refused to nap earlier - and now he couldn't keep his eyes open to check out the deer munching about. Not as heavy as our packs will be, nor as steep of a trail, but a start.

I was better dressed this time with lightweight nylon pants that the legs zip off to make shorts. Didn't do that, too cold and not a speck of blue sky. I was concerned that I would be underdressed, not so. Our guide was in a hurry to get up to where we could practice and I was soon sweating like an overworked peasant farmer. Plenty warm, shed the hat on the way and I remembered to put the hat back on when we got up to the precipice at about 6600 feet. I still need to figure out a sweat management system to keep my glasses from fogging up and becoming useless. Even remembered to reapply sunscreen frequently and happily my head didn't fry.

Before we took the bus up to Paradise, we spent an hour practicing knots, prussic, overhand, figure eights, clove hitch, etc.. At the precipice we started out building ERNST (Equalized, Redundant, No slack, Secure, & Timely) anchoring systems, dead men buried in the snow, stakes driven in, lashed together with rope and carabineers (scratch your nose, don't pick it...).

We then broke up into teams of three with one of us falling over the edge and the other two arresting our fall and rigging up the ropes to pull us up to safety. Single pulley, Z pulley, all pretty cool stuff. A little head scratching trying to remember which end of the rope to pull on after running it through pulleys and such and not let the pour sod dangling over the edge down any more. Realized that I need some more toys and chunks of rope so that I can practice pulling furniture around the house.

The weather was not quite miserable, but it was blowing, raining, and sleeting intermittently. Visibility started out at about 100 yards on the way up and shrunk to about 10 yards on the way down which led to an interesting trip down the mountain. We dropped into a bowl a bit prematurely and had to hike back up to get a better track down to Paradise. It was eerily quiet as we scrambled along trying hard not to lose sight of the person in front of us. We all made it safely back to the bus and made it back to RMI.

Back at RMI they had ropes hanging from the rafters and we practiced climbing up the rope using prussic slings. Felt a bit like Bond, James Bond (and Jim Whittaker) when he used his shoe laces to climb. Henry was cheering me on yelling "Yes! Dad, Did it!" as I rang the bell - that made the whole thing worthwhile, that and the big high five he gave me.

...To which JohntheClimbingMentor replied:

Wow-sounds great, Bob. Rob can regale you with our Vermont version of same, dangling from the warm and dry fly grid 30 feet over the Hyde Park Opera House stage. Thought I'd lost Rob in the lobby for a minute or two, but eventually we did manage to make it out the front door....

Hyde Park Opera House:

Emmons Route Report: June 3

(Compare this Emmons report to this grizzly Liberty Ridge route report from Mid-May...this is a route John is interested in--not for Rob and Bob!)

The trail from White river campground to glacier basin has patchy snow coverage until your about 1/2 mile past Sherwood forest then it becomes consistent snow all the way to the glacier. There was a slide this winter that may provide some route finding issues before you enter Sherwood forest. If you follow the yellow caution flagging to this slide, continue straight across climbing through some of the debris you will soon find the trail into the forest. The route from camp Curtis to Schurman is very straight forward, but crevasse hazard still exists.

After the road to White River campground opened last Friday,> many people came up to take advantage of the warm sunny weather. There were a good number of parties up also trying to make the first ascent of the Emmons in 2008... .One party over the weekend reached a high point of 14,000 until one of their members took a crevasse fall and they decided to turn around, thankfully the climber was uninjured.

The route from Schurman is mostly in early season conditions. There is a large crevasse climbers will have to negotiate at the top of the corridor. From that point the route continues right onto a nice open slope, around another set of crevasses, continuing to the right crossing the bergschrund and finally toward the summit. Most parties have not had trouble ascending the route but seem to become confused in their descent, winding up in places they would rather not be. Wands could be helpful in route finding but remember to remove all the wands you place. Stay tuned for further info and photos to arrive soon. Rangers climbed to 13,000 on Thursday the 29th, conditions were unconsolidated powder with little to no crust. As the mountain warms up things will start to consolidate, until then expect post holing conditions. On the upside the skiing is fabulous on the Emmons.

(Source)

Meet the Team: JohnTheClimbingMentor

Vermonter John Dunn, our mentor and informal climbing guide on this trip, lives in a lovely old house at the foot of Mount Mansfield, where he services his ancient car, tinkers in the barn, taps maple trees, wields a chainsaw, and does things like take his tractor apart and put it back together (he does that in the barn, not in the lovely old house). For his next impossibly old car I think he's planning on one that runs on vegetable oil.

An emergency room doctor by trade (where he once treated a "body packer" with $1.5 million worth of heroin, um, onboard), John loves the theater, and he is quite active in the Lamoille County Players, who perform in the old Hyde Park (Vermont) Opera House: acting, set building, and direction. He's also appearing in an upcoming film by local acting/farming hero George Woodard.

John has a good deal of rock-climbing and mountaineering experience (happily), and when I asked what his scariest mountaineering moment was, he nonchalantly said:

Caught in small avalanche during winter traverse of Colorado's Ten Mile Range late 1970's. Carried a couple hundred yards or so, banged up but nothing serious.

And his wife said this:

I'm not sure for him but the time I recall vividly was rock-climbing together in the foothills of Denver. He was leading a climbing pitch and developed his classic migraine headache. His syndrome includes losing his vision for a period of time before the onset of the headache. I had to stand on that cliff wall and wait for his vision to return before he was able to belay me up to the stand....

--A statement that gives me the willies. Classic migraine headache? Syndrome? Losing his vision for a period of time? These are phrases that should not be bunched so closely together, especially in the context of standing on a cliff wall and waiting for his vision to return. Yikes.

I asked, "And why climb with Rob and Bob? Is it true we're just counterweights in case of a crevasse fall?"

To which the answers were:

John: Why climb with Rob and Bob? It's fun to watch them. Just kidding! Seriously, it's very satisfying to share in someone else's discovery of the joys of mountaineering, and I love Mt. Rainier. And yes, you will make good counterweights and human bridges for my glorious and successful ascent...

Linda: I don't think of you as counterweights for crevasse falls because you guys will probably go first. That means that you will be the ones to fall into the crevasse. That's ok because he will be more likely able to rescue you than the other way around.....

I guess Bob and I should be reassured by these answers(?)

Luckily, as I say, he has a lot of experience (which should help compensate for his tendency toward sudden blindness). And I think we're in good hands. His major climbs include:

Nepal: Chulu East (about 21,000')
Europe: Mont Blanc, La Dent du Requin
New Zealand: Aoraki/Mt. Cook
Mexico: Orizaba (18,000'), El Popo (17,000'), Izta (17.000')
US: Denali (20,320), Mt. Rainier, Grand Teton, Long's Peak, Half Dome, Mt. Mansfield, etc.

(images of some of these peaks below)

New Normal Old Normal

It was so hard at first to get Fergus' oral chemotherapy into him. Nausea plus nasty-tasting drugs do not make for a happy mix. Dexamethasone syrup made him vomit, and mostly he hated all the other syrups too. But we found an old mortar and pestle in the back of a kitchen cabinet and, with trial and error, we figured out just what drug had to be ground up and mixed with what flavor yogurt (or whatever) in order to get the stuff into him. Finally, somehow, he learned how to swallow pills--sometimes as many as 9 at a time. And as often as 3 times a day we would come to him with a handful (or a dixiecupful) of pills and a glass of water. He'd pop them into his mouth with just a glance and swallow them down.

Another day, another x milligrams of toxic chemicals.

I swear, even today I could walk up to him with a glass of water and get him to swallow anything remotely pill-shaped. Small pebbles. LEGOs. Cat food nuggets. Diamonds.

Not that I've tried any of these tricks. Or own any diamonds.

But there are times when the sheer routine of such moments--putting chemotherapy into your child, holding him still while someone sticks a needle into his chest, recording in a notebook every medication given, every bowel movement done, every variation in body temperature--can be shocking.

As Isabel's mom wrote this week:

Tonight was just the same as ever, nothing out of the ordinary. But, that’s what got me. Our “ordinary”. I stood there, washing the syringe and realized that my daughter hasn’t complained about taking the medications each and every night in over a year. She simply takes it and takes it and takes it. It’s not normal. It’s not okay. It’s not fine. It’s scary and upsetting....

So very true. After treatment ends, a different, better kind of normal starts to take over. But, I think, never completely.