Super Angie...reflections

I've been thinking a lot about my climb on Rainier. Right now we are in Colorado enjoying Keystone, and as I drive around this mountain town, I look at the 14,000 foot peaks and know I can climb them. I have already climbed Torreys and now I need to do Grays--the sister peak. I want to climb Quandry...possibly in the winter!

I grew so much on Rainier. I didn't want to climb it. I didn't beleive in myself, although so many others did. I remember talking to Nate at the rock gym. I said, "So, I'm gonna try to climb Rainier" and he was like "YEAH BABY!!!! You are gonna rock it!". Whoa! He thought I could do it?!

The day before we climbed, I was freaked out. I was not so nice to Rick, was I baby? I was numb with fear and shock and more fear. I did not want to do it.

"I hate hiking"

Worst of all, I was begining to hate Mt. Rainier. How is that possible? I'm a Redmond girl? I grew up seeing the Mountain. "The Mountain's Out!" was a phrase we always said. I also loved flying into Seattle so I could see the Mountain. It was THE Mountain. But I was so freaked out and scared to climb it. I didn't want to hate my mountain. I was very sad and very numb.

I wasn't scared to walk. I wasn't scared of the snow or ice or being cold. I was scared of the crevasses, but more then that, I was scared of carrying a pack.

When I was around 18, my daddy took me on a hike to Lake Dorthy. I remember getting my pack and boots and walking around the neighborhood to "break it in" and "train" a bit.

I also remember not far up the trail when I couldn't carry my pack anymore and my dad, took it and his and continued up the trail, singing songs in German with me and talking about all my favorite things. We had a beautiful few days at Lake Dorthy, but its been hidden away in my heart and mind...I had failed. I had messed up. I was whimpy and couldn't even carry my own pack. I couldn't hike. I was no good. (Of course my dad didn't imply ANY of those negative thoughts. It was all in my mind)

Rick knew these things. His pack was close to 70 lbs. Mine was close to 30. Mid way up, when it became apparent that his boot/pack combination wasn't working out, I took the rope. The pink rope. MY rope. I loaded it on my pack and kept walking. I was walking slow, but I was walking.

I saw a crevasse and freaked out. I cried to go home to hold Tanith. Rick talked me into walking to Muir which was only an hour away, compared to several more hours back down to the car. I'm so glad we went to Muir. The crevasses on the snowfield, navigating through them was SO MUCH FUN. Sleeping at Muir, seeing everything there. Cooking in the vestabul...it was so exciting and fun. I loved it.

Coming down, I took the weight off Rick and his poor blistered feet. We decided not to try to summit because the weather was HORRIBLE and the route conditions were not safe for a two man team. I was fine with that. The Mountain will be there next year...and I will be there too! Anyway, I took lots and lots of weight. I did it daddy! I carried a heavy pack and didn't complain! I took two sleeping bags, a sleeping pad, the stove and fuel, my extra coats, all the ice screws and tools, the tent poles and the rope.

I did it.

I climbed to Muir. I actually danced part of the way (love my IPOD shuffle!).

I did it!

--super angie