Bright and early, we headed up to Mount Hood proper, and met in one of the exquisite rooms at Timberline Lodge. I could write a whole lot about Timberline Lodge, as it's quite an amazing place, but I'll keep it brief. If you've seen the Stanley Kubrick film "The Shining" - that's Timberline Lodge during the opening sequence, though the film itself was not shot there. Timberline Lodge came into being as a work project during the Great Depression. It is a beautiful old lodge constructed from local timber and stone, and it's built approximately 6000 feet (1800 m) up on Mount Hood. There's a ski area there, with virtually year-round skiing because of Palmer glacier. I keep meaning to go skiing there in the July heat, but the $49 lift ticket price plus the gas involved has ensured that it hasn't happened yet.
Here's a shot of the lodge I got from Wikipedia's article about Timberline.
The foyer of the lodge has a stone fireplace, and from there we entered the meeting room. Much of the inside of the lodge is constructed from rough-hewn wood with plenty of carvings to occupy the eye. Sadly, I didn't bring my camera that day, so you'll be seeing mostly recycled photos, as well as a few photos taken by my fellow climbers from our shared photo repository. Please respect the photographers, and don't circulate these photos. There we were then, inside the room where we got briefed by our guides, a disproportionate amount of whom are Irish. Joe, one of the veteran guides continuously apologised for his impenetrable brogue and gave us the safety rundown as well as reassuring us about any fears and apprehensions we may have.
"We keep risk low and control high at all times," he says "and while some of you may be outside of your personal comfort zone on the mountain, rest assured that you are well within the guide's comfort zone, and if we were to even approach anywhere near the limit of this, we would not be going up."
This kind of reassurance is always good to hear. I know these people are experts who have been doing this much of their lives; I don't remember the number of times Joe said he'd climbed Mt. Hood this year, but it's pretty well equivalent to the seasonal amount of underwear changes most folks go through. He's been at it for 17 years also. I figure I'm in good hands.
Below you can see the meeting room, and a few of my fellow climbers. The two red-haired guys are a Gerry and Christian, a father and son team. The bearded fellow is Pete. Pete's a wildlife biologist and climbing for his 50th birthday. Gerry is a firefighter. These guys were my carpool for many of the hikes, so I got to know them a little bit better. The guy with the giant beard is Kjell, a towering Dutchman. While we were sitting at the lodge, I was introduced to a guy named Steve Papp. Steve and I were introduced by another climber, Patty, whom I knew already since we had something interesting in common: we were both alumni of the JET program and had lived in Japan. Patty had been there during the program's inception, however, in the late 1980s. Pre-Internet and before many of the current support networks for foreigners were in place. Her Japanese is still better than mine is, for obvious reasons. When Patty introduced me to Steve, it turned out that Steve is headed to Japan on the JET programme this year. Steve and I have been in contact since, and went out for sushi nearby (he lives not far from us) and I just found out that he's going to Hyogo, the same prefecture I was stationed in for two years! I promised Steve a good night of drinking out once he gets his town placement, when in the interest of helping out a friend (and living vicariously a little, of course) I will give him the lowdown on his town and placement!
After we were each assigned a guide, we hiked into one of the gullies that runs down the mountain and picked a steep section of the gully's wall, dropped our packs and started setting up. Our guide patiently guided us from the very rudiments all the way up to being on a rope team. We were shown one thing at a time; whether it was a step or using our ice axe. Eventually we would combine more and more steps and techniques until we were zigzagging up the slope, roped up together. To a novice such as myself it was good to take it slowly, as the footwork got a little overwhelming at first. It was also a great workout, as every time we tried a new step we would run down the gully wall and start climbing again. The pitch was decent (I assure you the photos are taken with a pretty wide lens) and the sun was beating down hard on us all, so we were all exhausted and sunburned at the end of the day. The guide told us to spare no sunscreen.
"I've burned the roof of my mouth from panting from exertion and having reflected light go into my mouth," he said while squeezing out brown goo from a plastic wrapper. We noticed it was a Snickers bar that had melted. "Oh, and make sure you get the underside of your nose and your nostrils." Good call; I did so, but I still got a bit red there. I also burned the tops of my ears pretty badly, and got raccoon eyes from my ski goggles. Live and learn.
Since I did not have my camera with me, I have taken the liberty of using a few representative shots taken by my fellow climbers. Unfortunately, I don't appear in any of them. Or maybe fortunately; it largely depends on whom you ask.
In the coming weeks, as the hikes got noticeably steeper, we had a chance to use some of the footwork we learned today. These have proved very useful in making the climbs easier on my Achilles' tendon as well as helping with pacing and not over-exerting myself. The biggest problem is remembering everything, but we get a refresher on the mountain the day of the climb, so I'm not too worried about it.
Burned and pooped, I came home and awaited the next adventure.
No comments:
Post a Comment