I didn't realize how many people were checking this blog until the emails flooded my inbox this morning asking why stories and pictures from the Climb weren't posted. Sorry to keep you waiting. I came home last night and after a speedy shower rushed to Noble Rot for a Plate & Pitchfork dinner with movie star and cookbook author Farmer John Peterson. And then of course I did have to go to work today -- so at long last here are your photos and stories.
You photo seekers can click here: http://erika.eponym.com/blog/_archives/2006/6/12/2028637.html and then click "view as a slide show" you'll find a handful of photos of the journey.
I'm not sure I've fully realized the impact of this adventure quite yet. The simplest routine gesture took on new meaning today when I pulled back the bedroom drapes and found myself staring at Mt. Hood through the early morning rain. I was trapped, and transported back to yesterday morning and the gut-wrenching yet glorious journey up the mountain.
We started our trek after midnight and travelled by the light of a full moon using head lamps only to illuminate detailed tasks like attaching crampons. Lack of sleep, nerves and an empty stomach made the first hour or so an extremely dizzying experience. With the constant coaching and encouragement of my teammates Scott and Mark I got to our first resting spot and managed to choke down an Odwalla bar and some water. And I declined the invitation to join 2 climbers that were turning back at that point.
Our group split into rope teams and began the journey to the Hogsback. (For you out of towners, the Hogsback is a razor-sharp ridge leading from Crater Rock to the summit. The ridge is broken only by the seasonal opening of the Bergschrund and it's the last staging point for climbers headed to the summit) Along the way you encounter Devil's Kitchen and are reminded that Mt. Hood is a volcano as she puffs sulfur clouds and the wind gusts quickly become acrid. Our team dwindled again at the Hogsback and asthma almost sent me with them. The combination of exercise, cold air, altitude and anxiety are pretty much a recipe for an asthma attack. Although calling it an attack sounds extreme -- it was all relatively easily abated with some albuterol, a fleece glove over my mouth and nose and again the amazing support of Scott and Mark.
With muscles cold and tight we roped up and headed for the summit. And my confidence, well it apparently accepted the invitation to leave the climb. I knew starting back up would be hard. On a good day it takes my lungs about 20 minutes to get into the magic zone where I forget that I have asthma, and here we were starting at 10,500 feet chilled. As we set out we saw the shadow of Mt. Hood across the valley it was nearly as spectacular as the mountain itself. As we ventured on I slowed our team down dramatically and tried my teammates patience. But with the dedication, urging and perseverance of Lisa, Kristen and Mark we made it to the summit.
We were there briefly, long enough to take a look around, take a few team photos with the FHCRC banner, and of course my scroll. I have yet to find the words to describe that moment, there are only tears -- of joy and sorrow.
The details of going up should be sufficient so I'll spare you the play-by-play of the way down. It was long, it was sunny, glissading is fun. And I am home safe, sound and profoundly changed.
Thank you for reading & for your unyielding support,
Erika
PS... if you'd like to take a virtual tour of Mt. Hood go here http://emilive.com/viewer/2611/0.html And if you'd like to make a contribution to help cure breast cancer click here https://ssl.charityweb.net/fhcrc/climb/index.htm. Use the pull down menu to find my name among the list of climbers.