Summit Success

On October 28, I headed to Mexico to climb a couple of mountains for breast cancer research. Our team consisted of 7 Climb to Fight Breast Cancer climbers as well as a father and son from Texas, and 3 guides. After a day tourning pyramids around Mexico City with some of the CFBCers, the complete group met in Mexico City on October 29. The following day, we loaded ourselves and our gear into two vans and headed southeast towards our first objective, Iztaccichuatl, anywhere from 17,100 to 17,500 feet, depending on the source. Before we got to the mountain, we had a nice stop in Amecameca, where we toured the market and a cool old church.

We spent our first two nights at Itza in a refugio near the tv and microwave towers at an elevation of about 13,200 feet. The first day, we went on an acclimitization hike to familiarize ourselves with pressure breathing and other fun aspects of high altitude climbing. On day 2, we loaded up our backpacks and headed for high camp. This involved descending to 12,200 feet, and then climbing up to about 15,000 feet over scree and rocks. We camped among the rocks, had an early dinner, then went to bed around 5pm in preparation for our alpine start for the summit. At midnight, we were awakened (well, hard to awaken when you never have actually slept). Got dressed, ate our oatmeal, and headed out of camp about 1:45 am. All 12 of us reached the summit at about 7:30, having witnessed a fantastic sunrise and mountain shadow on the climb up. The summit was crystal clear, but windy and COLD. Water bottles, even though in our pack, were very slushy. I had blue lips, though I'm not sure whether that was from the cold or the hyopoxia. Our trip back down was warmer and faster. Back at high camp, we took down our tents, packed up our gear, and then headed back down another 2800 feet and up several hundred to the waiting cars and beer. Then, a long ride to Puebla. We checked into the hotel around 7:30 pm after a LONG day. I was too tired to eat dinner. Just wanted bed.

We spent Monday in Puebla as a recovery day. We shopped in the artists market, checking out amazing pottery and other crafts. Several of us got massages to get our bodies back to where they needed to be in order to tackle our next objective, Pico de Orizaba, the third highest mountain in North America at over 18,700 feet.

Tuesday morning, back to the vans and the 2 + hour drive to the town of Tlachichuca. At Tlachicuca, we tranferred our gear to heavy duty 4x4 vehicles and ate lunch. Then, we got into the trucks and headed up the 13 mile dirt road that puts the middle fork snoqalmie road to shame. 2 1/2 hours later, we arrived at our objective, Piedra Grande, 14,000 feet. There is a big climbers hut at Piedra Grande, with cooking tables and bunk space for 40 people. Fortunately, there were only a few other people besides our group, and no mice. Our original plan was to camp outside the huts, but the wind was quite strong, so we elected to stay inside. Good choice.

If you are paying attention, you might realize that Tuesday was election day. It was quite strange to be in a foreign country on the big day, and in a place with no electricity or cell reception. We did have a sat phone. Before we went to sleep, we called Seattle at around 8pm east coast time. No hard results at that time, so I went to sleep not knowing who our next president would be. The next morning we called an east coast relative and got the good news. Woo Hoo!!!

Wednesday morning, we once again loaded our packs and headed up the scree and rock slope to our high camp around 16,000 feet. In high camp, we had clear skies, but lots of wind in the afternoon. Seemed to be a trend. We ate an early dinner, and this time, I remembered to bring my sleeping pill. Although I didn't sleep great, at least I got some sleep before our midnight wake-up call. At 1:45, 10 of us broke camp, roped up and crampons on. We climbed steeply through the rock and ice "labyrinth", then, after about 1 1/2 hours, we broke out onto the glacier. As we climbed, the slope got steeper and steeper. Eventually, the pitch reached 45-50 degrees. We were told that this was a "no fall zone. If you fall, someone dies." Not terribly reassuring. At one break, we could not sit, because the slope was too steep. Toes were cold, feet were cold. Thankfully, I had handwarmers to keep my fingers from going numb.

At about 17,600 feet, two climbers turned around with one of the guides. One climber was suffering from severe hypoxia. He was actually hallucinating. The other was shaky and worried that she could not continue safely. The 7 of us remaining continued up the slope. Because I was at the end of the rope, I got to carry the 5 pounds of extra rope. Believe me, at that elevation, I could feel it. It was all I could do to keep going. Every time I tried to look up to see the top, I felt like I might tip over. I stopped looking. At this time, we could start to see our surroundings as sunrise was approaching. But, given the severity of the slope and my desire not to die, I was not able to take any great sunrise shots. I'm okay with that.

The 7 of us reached the crater rim about 7, took a short break, dropped our packs, then made the short climb to the summit. No wind, just views of everything. The was a great crater just below us, and we could see Itza in the distance. Another great mountain shadow day.

On the way back to our packs, I had a bad moment. Took a step and realized that my foot seemed weird. I looked down, and my crampon was half off my foot. Not a good place for that to happen. I had a bit of a panicked moment, but the guides were able to reattach it to my foot as I held onto the crater rim for dear life. I have no idea what I would have done if it had actually come off. Don't want to think of it.

We picked up our packs, then headed back down as the sun began to warm us. Again, we were reminded of the "no fall zone." We were to trust our crampons (oh, the crampons that I was just told sucked???) and just head straight down the mountain. Great. 45 degree slope, 2000 feet of ice covered snow between me and the rocks at the bottom, and the no fall zone with crappy crampons. And, I'm roped to 4 people. If I fall, I kill them, too. And, if they fall, I get to go along for the ride. Why am I climbing???

We all made it down, and it really wasn't that bad. Quads were sore for days and the legs were a bit shaky at times, but the snow conditions were great and our guides had everything under control. We made it back to camp about 9:30, and our friends had broken camp and packed everything up for us. Nice friends! We reloaded our packs, then headed down to the Piedra Grande and the 4x4s that were due to arrive at 1. They weren't there. Finally, at 3:30, they showed up. We loaded up, drove back down the crazy road, and showered and had dinner in Tlachichuca. Then, the long 3 hour drive to Mexico City. At midnight, we checked into our hotel. Another LONG day. But, we were safe.

Friday, I flew home to Seattle, and got in to Seatac at about 1:00 am. Alaska Airlines was kind enough to give me a new suitcase after apparently throwing my suitcase in front of a herd of wild elephants. At least it wasn't my pack that they ruined. I spent the weekend recovering, but now I'm good to go. And, I get a whole week's worth of rest starting tomorrow (Wednesday) courtesy of the ACL surgery I am having tomorrow.

Thanks to all of your support, in addition to reaching my summit goals, this year, I have raised over $11,000 for breast cancer research atthe Hutch. My three year total is over $25,000. Thank you for being a part of my endeavors!

The Refuge (Alaska, part deux)

On August 15, I once again headed to the land of the midnight sun, this time as the assistant leader of a 14 day backpack in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. The trip was comprised of 6 people -- 4 participants and 2 leaders. I was the only female. As the assistant leader, I was in charge of food organization for all meals of the trip. You can imagine the work and stress with that job, not to mention the joy of packing up all that food and hauling it to the airport. I was very relieved once I checked the luggage and got on the plane.

We arrived in Fairbanks late Friday night, spent Saturday meeting everyone, running last minute errands, going over logistics and food distribution, and repacking. Did I mention that my pack weighed almost 50 pounds? Bright and early Sunday morning, we were on the road for the LONG drive up the Dalton Highway to our starting point, Atigun Gorge. On the way, we watched the pipeline snake its way across tundra, over the mighty yukon, through vast burn areas, into a ferocious rain storm, and around glaciated mountains. Although it was still summer in Fairbanks, we passed through fall colors as we headed north. At times during my trip, I felt like those "highway" miles of fall were all we had between summer and winter! 11 hours and numerous rest stops later, we were there. By that time, it was almost dinnertime. At least it wasn't raining.

Over the next two weeks, the six of us enjoyed sun, wind, fog, snow, and a few clouds as we circled the area around the Atigun River, the Sagavanirktok, and Accomplishment creek. We crossed a number of high passes and several big rivers. We watched a herd of about 100 caribou stream across the face of a large hill, possibly after a wolf had killed one of them. Later that night, we marveled at falcons playing and stalking, while a golden eagle soared overhead. and another hawk hovered nearby. We saw numerous dahl sheep, and got up close and personal with one large flock. We saw moose one morning at a lake just outside of camp.

Did I mention the tundra? I hate tundra. We had lots of tundra. Hummocks and Tussocks. especially with marsh in between, are not much fun. One day, I think we must have walked through 8 miles of tundra. Looks beautiful, but miserable to walk in.

The trip, despite the hated tundra, was amazing. Our group of Eric, Peter, Larry, George, Mark and myself, got along fantastically. The weather was fantastic, (albeit cold), as was the scenery. We were constantly amazed at new views as we crossed over the various passes. The diversity of ecosystems was something that surprised us. In some places, we had peak foliage, and in other areas, it seemed winter had arrived.

Prince William Sound

What an amazing trip. From June 9-19, I stayed outdoors in one of the most amazing environments I've encountered. Sea Kayaking is not my usual means of transportation, but this was a fantastic adventure. I may now be hooked. Of course, we were very lucky in terms of the weather. I might have a different take on it had it rained the entire time.

We started the trip with a boat shuttle of about 1 1/2 hours from Whittier to Culross Pass, where we spent two days hardening campsites and doing a few other tasks. The first day's weather was amazing. Blue skies, no clouds. On the second day, it got overcast, but pretty much no rain. We stayed at our first campsite for two nights. Late in the afternoon on day three, our boat shuttle arrived once again and took us another hour south to our second campsite on a small island in Gaamaak cove. The site was a bit boggy, but quite lovely. From Gaamaack, we day tripped further into the bay to a Skookumchuck (a tidal pond) and a nice lunch spot where we climbed up and looked out to amazing views. Once again, the weather was fantastic.

The next day, we arose early and kayaked to campsite number three, a big beach with major tidal changes. We had to carry the kayaks a LONG way to ensure that they did not end up leaving us with the high tide. We spent one day at this campspot, listening to the oystercatchers yell at us and hoping that bears did not come visit us and the large deer carcass close to our campsite. We survived the night and the next day, headed further south to the best campspot ever.

Campsite number four was located on the neck of an ithsmus and surrounded by three bays. In one of the bays was a kittiwake rookery, in another, many iceburgs. The southern view was out to icy bay and nassau fjord and the 3000 foot peaks coming straight down to the water. The spot was unbelievable. Oh, and the weather was, too. As was the lack of mosquitoes for pretty much the entire trip. Not sure how we got so lucky, but I can't complain.

We spent three nights at this paradise, exploring icy bay and nassau fjord and gazing in wonder at the tidewater glaciers that calved for us and left our bay filled with icebergs. We saw seals, sea otters, river otters, sea lions, nesting eagles, and bears. We also visited the kittiwake rookery, which was a waterfall surrounded by birds nesting on every possible rock outcroppping. It felt like a scene from "the birds", but much less aggressive.

It was sad to leave Paradise, but we had to. We paddled across the bay and on to our next campspot, close to Whale Bay and Humpback Cove. This was another nice spot, although it smelled a bit fishy thanks to the millions of eggs fish had laid on the beach. I'm sure the resident bear enjoyed it. He left a nice present for us below the tideline, which we noted shortly after arrival. Many similar presents were scattered in the trees around the beach. I was the only one who actually saw the creator of those gifts. I was walking on another beach around the corner from where we were camping, taking pictures. When I went to take a picture of the headlands on the other side of the beach, there he was, standing on rocks looking straight at me. We were not far apart. He was huge, but not concerned about my presence in the least. As I stood there yelling "bear, bear, bear," he slowly sauntered into his cave, about 10 feet away from where I saw him. No one else saw him, so I feel somewhat like big bird and snuffalufagus. He really was there, though. When our boat captain picked us up, he said that the last people to camp there had to move because they couldn't get the bear to leave. Fortunately, we had no such problems.

We spent two nights at this spot, enjoying campfires and whale sightings. We didn't see any humpbacks, but we did see a minke whale about 30 feet out from our beach, and a transient orca further away.

Alaska Kayak

Getting ready to head north to Anchorage this Saturday for a 10 day kayak trip in the Prince William Sound. The trip is sponsored by the Sierra Club. I am looking forward to trying out a relatively new activity, and also anxious to test drive the knee and see how the shoulder feels.The trip leaves from Whittier on June 9. For the first several days, we will learn cold water kayaking skills and also work on a forest service project -- building tent pads. For the remainder of our trip, we shuttle the kayaks into a more remote part of the sound and travel from campsite to campsite until June 19. Hopefully, we will see whales, bears, seals, birds, and other cool creatures. I'm also hopeful that it won't rain the entire time. So far, the extended forecast is for rain and showers. Oh well. It is Alaska and I have a waterproof camera.

Vegas

Back in the old days, when my knee was still intact, I was talked into going to Vegas for a soccer tournament in mid-May. It didn't take too much convincing -- I love Vegas, I hadn't been there for a couple of years, and I always had a great time playing in the tournament. After the knee injury, however, I began to rethink my plans. Up until a week before the tournament, I flip flopped on whether to go. In the end, I decided not to change my tickets. I found a cheap car rental and noticed that there was an interesting looking recreation area not far out of town, so I decided to check out Red Rock canyon the first day of the tournament.

What a great place. It's only 17 miles outside of Vegas, but it's a world apart. Great sandstone formations that used to be the floor of the ocean on one side of the park. On the other, treed canyons that almost reminded me of Zion. It was a pleasant alternative to watching soccer all day without being able to play.

In Red Rock, I took my first several hikes without an ACL. The first was flat, a three mile loop around the sagebrush flats. The next hike was more challenging, and more interesting. I climbed through the rock to a hidden oasis, with a total elevation gain (and loss) of 420 feet. I made it! The 105 temperatures were probably the worst thing about this hike, and it was only May. Can't imagine what this furnace would be like in August.

Miami Beach

On the last weekend in April, I headed south to Miami to meet up with four girlfriends from college. Barb, Elizabeth, Marcy, Kris and I spent a long weekend wandering the boardwalk and streets of South Beach. We ate some great food, swilled some beachside-priced drinks, and visited the spa.

It had been at least five years since I had seen any of them, but of course we all looked the same. We were amazed at how many years have passed since we met each other. We seemed to easily fall back into our old friendships. Looking forward to another reunion next year.

Knee Tragedy at Alpental

Twas a fine spring day in the Seattle area, and I decided that this was my last shot to use the two free passes I received for my fundraising efforts in last year's Climb. My friend Laura and I headed up to Alpental ski area to take advantage of the warm, sunny weather and get a few turns in. I also brought along my new, waterproof camera so I could take some pictures of the terrain.
I was feeling pretty lucky. I had minor shoulder surgery nine days earlier to repair some old damage, and the shoulder was feeling good enough to ski. I just wanted to make sure I didn't take any hard falls. I figured I would take it easy.
Laura and I skied on the lower slopes first, but the upper lift and bowls were so much more enticing. So, she and I decided to do a couple of runs on our own, then meet back up for lunch. I headed up. The first run was great! Snow wasn't so hot, but the weather sure was. I didn't even need a hat or gloves.
The second run started off well. As I stood at the top of Upper International, I watched a small avalanche come down near me. I saw people eating lunch on the flat section way below. The mountains looked beautiful. I was happy to be alive. I got about halfway down, then disaster struck. As I went into a turn, my left leg got stuck in the snow. I couldn't get it to release, though the rest of me was leaning downhill. It really didn't hurt too much when I fell, but the pop was bad, as was the immediate nausea and cold sweat. At least I was smart and didn't try to ski down.
Needless to say, I was late to my lunch date. Poor Laura finally gave up waiting for me and had a beer. I highly recommend avoiding the ski sled for getting off the mountain. Going down headfirst on your back with no shocks is not fun for either you or the ski patrol. But, we made it eventually.
As luck would have it, I had an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon the next day to get my stitches out. Despite the good case of denial I had going on, I was able to get the ACL tear diagnosis thrown in as a bonus. Certainly not the news I was hoping for, but not unexpected. A subsequent MRI showed I partially tore my MCL and did some meniscus damage in addition to the ruptured ACL. Hopefully, the doctors' predictions that I can do my kayaking, hiking, backpacking, and climbing this summer and fall will prove correct!

Hawaii

At the end of February, Roy and I flew to Oahu to enjoy some sun and sand instead of rain. Rather than stay in the resort area, we bought a tent, a big blow up mattress, and a small grill and headed north to Malaekahana campground on the island's windward side. What a great campground! Unlike most of the campgrounds on the island, this campground was private, so we didn't have to worry about our things getting stolen or our car getting broken into. We had a nice, protected spot just steps from the mile-long white sand beach, complete with picnic table and pet cats and chickens. Contrary to what we are taught as children, roosters do not crow with the sun. They crow in the middle of the night. Repeatedly. And, they travel in large groups.

Every morning, I would get up with the first light, walk along the beach, and watch the sun rise. Every day, it was different. We had no agenda, so it really was a relaxing vacation. We visited Hale'iwa, the big surfing beaches, the leeward side of the island, and lots of little shops. We snorkled at Hanauma bay, kayaked in Kailua bay (where I lost the keys to the rental car), hiked to a waterfall, and also to the top of a ridge. I realized after several days of this that I brought way too many clothes for the beach lifestyle.

For our last night, we headed to Waikiki and an actual hotel. On the way there, we stopped at a great Saturday market and pigged out. Then, loaded with fried food, we headed off to climb Diamond head with all of the other tourists. I must say, it felt so weird to be cooped up inside a hotel after so much outdoors time. Also weird to hang out by the pool instead of on the beach.

The last morning, I climbed up to an overlook above a lighthouse with a friend who was in Oahu with her family. We got up VERY early so we could drive out there and watch the sunrise during the hike. We timed it perfectly. When we started, people were wearing headlamps. By the time we got up to the overlook, the sun was just about to rise. It was amazing. Views all around of the mountains, the bays, the islands, and the ocean. We could see at least 2 of the other islands. We also watched a number of whales coming around the point, some very close. And, we saw 2 different whales breaching, one multiple times. Not a bad way to spend our last morning in paradise.

Dinglerema 9

On January 18, I headed up to Mt. Baker with 33 of my closest friends for the 9th annual extravaganza known as Dinglerama. We rented 3 cabins and had as many kegs as cabins. In addition to the usual suspects, we brought some new Canadians into the circle, as well as more work and soccer friends. All in all, it was another success, with many new stories: Scotty's ditch driving endeavors, Dingleromance II, guest appearance by Sponge Bob, cross-dressing Canucks, big ass bruise, Anders's unique sleep spot, Sabrina's trifecta, and the Quiet House.

We were lucky to have some nice weather over the weekend. On Saturday, I snowshoed up a snow covered forest service road with Roy, the Canadians, Kimberley, Nate and Elizabeth, Kevin, Liz, and John. Although it was cloudy, we got some glimpses up to Shuksan. On day 2, I downhilled with Paul, Anders, and JG. A bit windy, but we had a super time. We started skiing around 11:30 and went non-stop until 3:30. Not bad for my first day out in a year. Only one nice wipeout. Nothing painful, but lots of snow inside my jacket. On Monday, we did an easy cross country ski along parts of the same road we snowshoed. The weather was amazing, and we had great views up the river towards Shuksan.

Scottish Lakes High Camp

For New Years, Roy, John George, Gina and I headed up into the Chiwaukum mountains east of Stevens Pass for a three day stay at Scottish Lakes High Camp. What a great spot! The camp is accessible by an 8 mile logging road. You can either ski or snowshoe up, or take a combination 4 wheel drive / snowmobile shuttle. We opted for the shuttle. We arrived just after a storm deposited about two feet of new snow in the mountains, which made for interesting driving, but great scenery. It also made for tough trailbreaking. For the first night, we stayed in a cozy cabin that was more suited for 2. Our second night, we moved to a more palatial cabin. No electricity, but plenty of firewood, and propane to see and cook by.

We cross country skied all three days. Roy had fun breaking the trail through the meadows (known as clearcuts in the summer, but with snow, they looked like meadows) to a nice lookout. We also practiced tree skiing in the falling snow. And, we had plenty of fun trying to get ourselves up after some great falls of our own. Note to self -- do not cross country ski alone as it is impossible to get up without someone else's assistance.

On our last day, we skied 4 miles down the road to the parking lot, where we were met by the 4 wheel drive vehicles. Roy tucked almost the entire way down. I was too much of a wimp. We'll be back next year!