While waiting for what felt like an eternity, I kept my weary eyes on the two others on my platform. The furthest individual appeared to be homeless while the closer of the two appeared to be possessed by some hallucinogen. I could tell he was simply an empty vessel and as he staggered past, he bowed to me with a glazed smile on his face. As the infamous Hunter S. so eloquently stated, “you can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on a drug.” After taking the F train towards Coney Island, transferring to the downtown A train at the Jay-Metrotech, making a half-circle on the airtran, going past cackling TSA agents and boarding my flight, I was finally en route. I never feel fully on vacation until I’m 30,000 feet in the air.
After digesting everything I could about mountaineering survival and techniques, I finally landed to two of the members of our hiking guild. Seeing how we had two more hours until returning to the airport to pick up the final climber in our crew of misfits, we decided to drink some beers and head to REI for more gear and to pick up the tents we rented. While walking out with our two four season tents, the shop-keep reminded us that our only excuse for returning these late was falling in a crevasse and while he laughed, there was a hint of seriousness in his voice. Honestly, looking back on the hike, if any of us had fallen into a crevasse, we were so exhausted we would have probably cut the rope and accepted our doomed fate. Plus, there was a late fee anyway, so fuck 'em.
After grabbing our gear and wolfing down a quick bite, we drank a few beers and practiced our self-rescue prusik knots in the cell phone lot of the Seattle-Tacoma National Airport. I also started taking my fill of Diamox. Diamox (Acetazolamide) allows you to breathe faster so that you metabolize more oxygen, thereby minimizing the symptoms caused by poor oxygenation, which in turn decreases symptoms of High Altitude Sickness. It has never steered us wrong. It also has other other purposes, but seeing how they're irrelevent to our climb, I'm going to disregard them. At the time our party consisted of me, the youngest of the crew and the only one currently residing on the east coast; Steve a recently published writer and an animated comedy savant; and my brother Ryan, a genius aspiring writer and the leader of our adventure crew. While considered the most aggressive member of our group, Ryan was also the most prepared. For some reason, if there was anyone I would follow on a potentially deadly aversion, it would be him. I always miss my brother and while we talk on the phone frequently regarding our blog, screenplays, and life, it's not the same as hanging out in person. We know that our collaborations will eventually allow us to live in closer proximity than the 2800 miles currently between us but it's hard to constantly think "some day".
Finally, the fourth and final member of our merry men arrived. Chris was the most logical member, the voice of reason and was the most prepared gear-wise as he'd invested in all the necessary top-tier apparel and equipment. The four of us made a great team as both myself and Chris would provide some stability and reason, while Ryan and Steve provided the necessary volatility and gung-ho mentality. Both were needed to scale this mountain. We have a great group of friends and mountaineers who not only get along, but with whom, deep down, I felt comfortable experiencing the nuances of this glacier on which none of us had ever set a foot.
(Now please read Ryan's Article, then continue on back here)
...So finally, after an extensive trek, we arrived at the truck to Steve on the phone and changed as he had decided in a fit of rage to aggressively descend the clutches of the mountain. After an hour of packing and unpacking, organizing, changing, and hydrating, we headed off to West Seattle where we would spend the next two nights.
As if injected with a needled full of Ambien, I passed out immediately only to be woken twice, once for what has turned into our ritual of hitting McDonald’s and eating the unhealthiest meal possible directly post-climb, and second to go into our hotel and clean myself up. The room at The Grove West Seattle Inn was much classier than its less-than-flattering exterior. Although recently renovated, it still presented a somewhat dilapidated exterior but, nonetheless, it turned out to be overall a supreme experience, with big queen beds and a gleaming flatscreen. Still, after we got in I couldn't summon up enough energy to drink more than 1 or 2 sips of a beer as my body had finally given in to a deep, well deserved slumber.
We all awoke the next morning around 9am and our legs felt constricted by pain-inducing iron braces of armor. I've never experienced such soreness in my quads and calves; just walking the 5 feet to the bathroom felt as if I was being tortured. I was dehydrated, in utter pain, and still mentally fatigued but finally I was coherent enough to fully appreciate what I had just experienced, as I was engulfed by one of the highest highs of self-satisfaction, the feeling that presents itself only after achieving pure greatness. I was also somewhat pleased that we made it off safely.
West Seattle felt like more of an artsy area, similar to a more spread out Williamsburg in Brooklyn or Fells Point in Baltimore. Either way, we made our way up and down the main strip on the prowl for satisfying feeding and eventually settled on a brunch spot that had what exactly we were seeking: that is, a greasy, protein riddled breakfast and some alcohol-infused morning conoctions. We couldn't have picked a better food hole than Jak’s Grill as our first true meal. After the waiter so kindly pointed out that we looked “rough”, we informed him that our haggard appearance was due to a Mt. Rainier climb hangover. Impressed, he informed the bartender who came over and basked in our glory since he too had dominated this mountain on several occasions.
After discussing the intricacies of the climb and whether the DC routehad started further into Emmons due to glacial opening (it had not), he seemed elated that even though it was our first time on the dangerous Mt. Rainier we hadn't wasted our money on paying for the overpriced and overrated guides and especially that we'd stayed at Ingraham instead of with all the geeks at Camp Muir. He congratulated us by making our Bloody Mary’s as powerful as humanly possible. After filling our shrunken stomachs, and feeling the effects of our highly vodka-concentrated bloodies, we left content and satiated.
After getting changed for the day, still appreciating running water as we did, we headed to downtown Seattle. I was excited to finally experience a city in the Pacific Northwest as it's the only region of the 48 that I have neither lived nor traveled through. As an avid outdoorsman, I've always been fascinated with this part of the country due to the ability to enjoy a plethora of landscapes but I also lack a true comprehension of its culture. While the US is a melting pot that congeals into one heartbeat, what makes it so unique is the diversity of the people, environments, ecosystems, and regions that make up this mammoth country.
We finally made it downtown to the epicenter of Seattle, which happened to be littered with tourists, a few locals, and homeless alike. There was a clean vibe to this effervescent city, one that I’m usually not exposed to as my travels usually consist of the grit and the grime that blankets cities such as New York, Baltimore, and L.A. We walked by the original Starbucks and its hour long line, entered the World Famous Pike Place Fish Market where we were entertained with seeing large fish being thrown around and, finally, hung out on a miniscule green section where we caught some sun and watched the Blue Angels stream overhead as they were putting on a show over Seattle for some reason.
It was enjoyable although I feel that experiencing this area in Seattle was a 1-time endeavor and future trips to this city would not lead me back there. After dealing with the hectic tourist area and seeing the country on the summit of the most prominent mountain in the lower 48, it was time to relax on a beach.
Alki Beach is a 2.5 mile haven nestled on Elliott Bay that provides amazing panoramic views of the Olympic Mountains and the Puget Sound. It also contains an eclectic mix of bars, restaurants, art galleries, stores, and people. The beach seemed to contain every aspect of life broken up in distinct portions along the sandy terrain. The first group consisted of the ghetto bangers who bounced along with their tricked out cars and bikes. The next group was the family portion where the parents were trying to regain their composure after being pulled to the brink of a nervous breakdown by their over-stimulated children. The next portion was the “athlete” beach where you could rent paddle boards or play beach volleyball. There was even an amateur women's beach volleyball tournament taking place. Finally, we came to our section which consisted of the younger stragglers who wanted to simply relax, drink beers in seclusion, and enjoy the views bestowed upon them from the surrounding areas. Yes, this was our corner and while downing several beers, jumping in the sound, smoking cigars, and enjoying the beautiful sunset, it was finally our time to truly meditate on this excursion. Never had any of us been through such a tumultuous task and we truly deserved a break in our hectic schedules. Between working, writing, and dealing with the daily life, all of us had been pushing ourselves to exhaustion preparing for this trip and finally we didn't have to worry about making sure our knots were secure, studying mountain survival, making sure we were in peak shape, or the ramifications of a misstep. As great as conquering the great Rainier was, completely letting our mind and bodies go was a close second.
So after waiting for the sun to dissipate behind the mountains, we drove home, showered, and ordered two huge pizzas. We tried for one final push, experiencing the bar scene around our hotel. My energy levels were once again depleted since my recovery period was eliminated by a day of sightseeing and drinking. We staggered around and entered two bars, neither to our liking. After a recommendation from a short and weathered bouncer who had obviously enjoyed many a year inside of alcohol selling establishments, we entered a scene that I have no desire to ever experience again, especially when I'm lacking patience. It consisted of very few attractive women, the loud screaming of out of tune karaoke singers, and the no talent ass clown of a bartender who gave us the most watered down drinks I've ever experienced in my 15 years of drinking. I’m not one to bitch for more alcohol in my drink or ask for my food to be re-cooked, but this was no simple act of negligence. He knew what he was doing and did it anyway. This disrespectful act would not stand. We all asked for more alcohol, threw the drinks down the hatch, paid, and left in anger in fell swoop.
Finally, we cut our losses and decided to grab a bottle of whiskey and made our way back to our hotel, where we downed the handle, ate the leftover pizza, and watched Wedding Crashers until 3am. At this point in the trip, this was all that I desired. The next morning, Ryan and Steve left extremely early and everyone said their goodbyes still in a haze. Chris and I both packed our gear slowly and made our way to the airport for similarly-timed flights. After grabbing what turned out to be a phenomenal Bar-B-Q bacon cheeseburger and a pint in the Africa Lounge Restaurant at the airport, we headed our separate ways.
Finally alone and sinking into a deep trance on my flight home, I was able to put what I had accomplished into a steady stream of consciousness. It was truly a great adventure that puts life into perspective. As I mentioned in a previous hiking article, nothing is as real as the relationships developed on an arduous mountain, especially the trust formed on a glacier where real danger is imminent; but that's not the only reason I take on such painstaking tasks. Being surrounded by the concrete, manmade structures that consume New York City is not nearly as enchanting as seeing the intimidating muscles that nature flexes. You tend to forget that there is a remarkable and fascinating world out there that is lost when drudging through each day tired and hapless. You need to work to achieve it, but seeing the sunset close to the peak of a giant mountain, looking down to the faint lines of a city from 14400 feet up, or looking around on the most prominent glacier and seeing Mt. Hood, Mt. Adams, and Mt. Helen's as well as minor Cascades below cannot be compared. Besides the camaraderie of your fellow team and the unparalleled views, these hikes make you more than just physically strong as you need to continue to push the notion of quitting behind you. The feeling of pain takes over every morsel of your body and all you want to do is stop and lie down, but it's pushing through these walls that turns you into a stronger human. I would rather feel these sensations, even if they hurt, than live a redundant life where each week is exactly the same as the previous. Not having the desire to truly push yourself is a waste. When you become complacent in life you become bored, and when you become bored, what’s the point of living? Climbing is the only thing that truly encompasses all of these experiences. This is what the mountain is to me.
- Kyle
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