Mt. Rainier - 2009 ------------------ The itch to do another climb came during our Christmas vacation in 2008 while visiting our families in Florida. By that time my daughter Katherine was now two years old. I knew that any climb would force me to take only a minimum time away so I wouldn't leave my wife Ruby to handle all of the kid duties. My search was thus confined to the U.S. and it didn't take me long to find another classic mountain that fit the profile: Mt. Rainier. After doing a little research, I honed in on the outfitter Alpine Ascents International (AAI). The standard route up Mt. Rainier was the three-day Muir route. I then noticed the four-day Kautz Glacier route. This was labeled as a less-traveled intermediate route. It was a bit more technical and challenging than the standard route. The big difference in the Kautz Glacier route from the Muir route was that you needed to carry up all of the cooking gear and tents, which were distributed among the group members. The packs would average about 65 lbs compared to roughly 40 lbs for the Muir route. I didn't like the idea of that heavier pack but I felt that my previous climbing experience should qualify me for such a route. On the drive back, I convinced my wife that a trip out to Seattle for all of us would be a nice little vacation. After getting back home to Virginia, I put my application in for the climb and AAI signed me up for the trip starting on June 28th (my 44th birthday). June rolled around and we all headed out to Seattle. The plan was that my wife's sister and husband would come up from San Francisco and do some sight-seeing with Ruby and Katherine to keep them company while I was off on the mountain. On June 27th, I took all of my gear to the AAI office for the mandatory gear check. The next day we set off for the mountain at 6 AM. By the late morning, we arrived at Paradise (~5400 ft) which is the main parking area for gaining access to the mountain for climbers and hikers. We unloaded all of the gear and slowly started to get into our climbing clothes and distribute all of the common gear. Aside from a tent and some smaller supplies, I ended up with a large pot used for boiling potatoes. I was surprised that I was able to fit everything in the pack. We finally set out for our first day. We climbed for several hours taking a few breaks along the way. I felt pretty good on the way up. The pack felt heavy, but not too bad. On one of the last sections, the steepness increased, and I could feel my energy being sapped a little easier. Still, it wasn't all that tough. Recovery during rest breaks was quick and by the time we reached our destination, I felt tired but it was a "good" tired. We eventually set up the tents and the guides got the early dinner going. The weather was perfect. The sun was shining bright, but the temperature was nice and cool on the mountain. The goal for the next day was to sleep in a bit, pack up all of the gear, and head up the mountain for several hours to just below a couple of steeper ice walls. After breakfast, we took down the tents and re-distributed the common gear again. Luckily, I didn't get the large pot. We separated into our rope teams. I happened to be the last person on a three-man rope (a guide and two clients). Our rope started out first, which I was glad to do since I was ready to get going. We started up the snow slope in the typical steady pace. In some areas we went straight up and in others we traversed in switchbacks. I started to get into my typical "look down at the footsteps laid out before me and just keep putting one foot in front of the other" mode. I started to get tired pretty early in the climb. I didn't know what to think. I kept thinking to myself that I was getting really tired and asking myself if I could realistically keep going. We had hours of climbing ahead of us and it was all uphill. While the weight of the pack was not overwhelming, I felt that the pack was my burden. We weren't even actually that high on the mountain, altitude-wise, so I couldn't really chalk it up to the altitude, although I am sure that played some part in it. At some point I just kept thinking that I was going to have to ask the guide to stop for a quick break. I don't know why, but I just decided to blurt out to the guide that I needed to stop because I was having breathing problems. We stopped for a couple of minutes while I tried to catch my breath. Because we were the first rope team, we were higher up on the slope than the other rope teams. Another rope team caught up and took a break as well. At that point I got that uncomfortable feeling that I was just not going to try to make it up. I couldn't believe it. Was I just giving up? The guides wanted us to continue on up and assess my situation once we got a bit higher. Although I felt that I probably already had my mind made up that I was just not ready to make the rest of the trip up with the heavy pack, I went along with it and started to head up. I slogged along until we made our next rest spot. Seeing how much more we had to go, I had to throw in the towel. I felt like an idiot. How could this be? I just wanted to get off of the mountain and away from the group because I felt so bad for making that decision. The worst part was that I had to take one of the guides away from the summit team to bring me back down. Luckily there were enough guides so that no one else had to come back down with us. I gave the team the common gear I had and gave one of the other clients my down parka since his blew off of the mountain earlier that morning. On the way down, I ended up dry-heaving a few times during our water breaks. That day marked a very low period in my climbing "career". I had never before given up like that. For years afterward, any mention of the mountain made me shake my head in disgust. I had to get back to try it again. Mt. Rainier - 2013 ------------------ In January 2010, our second daughter was born. Having two little girls was really going to make it tough for me to head back to the mountain and leave Ruby in charge of handling both of them. It wasn't until 2012 that I decided that I would float the idea to Ruby that I wanted to head back out to Rainier in the summer of 2013. Being a year away sort of buffered the idea so that it didn't seem like such an immediate issue concerning having to take care of the kids. In January 2013, I brought the topic up and started to push the idea again. When I looked at the AAI website, however, every one of the 3-day Muir trips was booked. I couldn't believe it. I called them the next day to confirm that they were indeed all booked and so all I could do was put my name in on the waitlist. By April a good date had opened up for the trip. The dates for the trip worked out well. Because the climb would occur over a weekend, it meant that Ruby would only have to take care of the girls during three work days by herself. Within hours, I had purchased my plane ticket and made a hotel reservation. I finally was going to get a chance to redeem myself; at least I had hoped so. On July 11th, I boarded the place for Seattle. The next day I went in to a new AAI office for the gear check. The other clients for the climb included Askgar and Marie (a young couple from Denmark on break from university studies in the U.S), Al and Jordan (a father and son team from the Seattle area), and Brian and Lyndsey (two friends from central Washington). I had the majority of the gear required but needed to rent a few items just like I did four years prior. To my surprise, though, the guide felt that the down jacket that I had was not going to be good enough and recommended that I rent one of their bigger parkas with a hood. I believe that this came from his most recent summit bid on the mountain where the winds were howling so much that they had to forego the summit attempt from high camp. As it turned out, getting one of their bigger parkas was a wise choice. The next day we all met at the AAI office at 6 AM, packed the gear in the truck, and headed out for the mountain. After stopping for a quick rest stop, we arrived at Paradise by mid-morning. We all unloaded our gear and started to get changed. Our guides included Nick and Dillan; two young guides who have been guiding with AAI for about three years, but who had extensive climbing backgrounds. Our third guide was Lakpa Gelu Sherpa. Aside from major climbs around the world, Lakpa has climbed Mt. Rainier over 70 times and has summited Mt. Everest 15 times. In 2003, he claimed the Everest speed record when he climbed from base camp to the summit in less than 11 hours. We were supposed to have a fourth guide, Craig, but no one knew where he was. After some general information about the coming days, we finally set off. The goal for the first day was to head up the snow field for roughly five or six hours until we reached the Muir hut. There was no need to wear the crampons or be roped up since we would only be on a snowfield and not on any glaciers. We headed up in roughly a single-line formation, talking as we went. The weather was perfect and the forecast was nothing but good weather. We stopped for some water and food breaks every 45 minutes or so. There were quite a few other climbers and hikers out that day since it was the weekend. Not everyone that heads to the Muir hut is going for a summit attempt. A lot of the people are just hikers out for an enjoyable, albeit tiring, day on the mountain. We eventually made it to the Muir hut by mid-afternoon. The main Muir hut was divided into two sections. Half was for AAI and IMG clients (alternating days) and the other half was for RMI clients. The AAI/IMG half essentially had two levels of plywood where clients slept side-by-side and could probably hold 10-12 people. The guides slept in the cook tent just above the hut on the snowfield. There is another area for non-guided climbers that is on a first-come first-serve basis. Anyone not able to sleep there would sleep in their tents on the snowfield above the hut. We each picked out our sleeping area while the guides headed on to their tent. We had a couple of hours to just relax before dinner. I walked around a little and took some pictures. There were great views of other mountains in the Cascade region, including Mt. Adams and Mt. Saint Helens. I eventually found a nice place to relax and had some snacks while talking to some of the other team members. Eventually, we started to head over to the guide's tent to have some dinner. Lakpa was cooking up some awesome tasting burritos. We sat around talking and getting to know more about each other. After everyone was about done, Nick and Dillan started to talk about the goal for the next day. We would start out on a steeper part of the snowfield above the guide's tent to practice using the crampons and the ice ax and discussing rope travel on the glaciers. This would also include some instruction and practice in self-rescue techniques. Later in the morning we would head out from the hut on roped teams and take a well-worn path across the Cowlitz Glacier over the rocky ridge line of Cathedral Gap to Ingraham Flats (roughly 11,100 feet). It would be about a two-hour climb that would allow us to train in rope management and glacier travel skills while bringing us to a beautiful and remote location at the base of the Ingraham Glacier where a semi-established high camp area had been set up. From this camp there are great views of Little Tahoma, a prominent sub-peak of Mt. Rainier, and the North Cascades range including the volcanoes Glacier Peak and Mt. Baker. We all headed back to the Muir hut at roughly 6:30. After straightening out my gear, I got into my sleeping bag a little after 7 PM. As was the case with most of my other climbs, bedtime was early with a goal of sleeping 10-12 hours. I had no illusions, however, that I would be able to enjoy a nice long sleep. I certainly didn't disappoint myself. I had one of my typical nights on the mountain where I felt like I was awake the majority of the night while experiencing some slight nausea and odd hallucinations. Dillan came by the hut around 7 AM and I was more than ready to end my night and get going. We would have about an hour to slowly gather and pack our gear and head over to the guide's tent for breakfast. It was a beautiful morning and had all the signs of another great weather day. Heading into tent for breakfast, I could see Lakpa had been hard at work cooking up large amounts of scrambled eggs, bacon, and blueberry pancakes. Along with packets of flavored instant oatmeal, it had the makings of breakfast feast. Unfortunately, I never quite have an appetite while in the mountains. I had a helping of eggs and some bacon, but that was all I could muster. After breakfast we started to gather on the snowfield above the tent where the slope was a bit steeper. We first worked on the how to travel over the snow and ice with crampons, learning different techniques for different situations. Then there was a transition to the use of the ice axe during glacier travel and how to use it when a self-arrest was needed. Lastly, we talked about traveling as a group with the rope. By late morning, we were ready to put the packs on and head up the glacier for high camp. I ended up being the fourth, and last, person on a rope team with Al and Jordan, and with Lakpa leading the way. The trail was well-worn but not very wide, with a semi-steep drop off down the glacier to our right. The route was not very steep. It was just a constant gradual rise up to the rock band at Cathedral Gap. While using crampons are a natural fit on the snow and ice, they are extremely awkward and ungainly when traveling over rock and scree paths. I was relieved when we finally rounded a corner and gained access back on the snow for our last little bit before reaching high camp. Finally, by early afternoon, we reached high camp. We were the last rope team to arrive but were not too far behind the others. The tents were already set up, as AAI and IMG use them on alternating days through the summer. There were four tents and with me being the only single client, I had a tent to myself. We had a couple of hours to relax and deal with our gear before we were to meet for dinner. I walked around a little, taking some pictures of the spectacular scenery. Little Tahoma, with its spiked top, seemed only a stones throw away. We occasionally kept watch on the upper slopes to watch climbers coming down from the summit. At one point we saw what looked like two large groups coming down at a very slow pace. Later we were to find out that one of the clients had lost her vision on the upper slopes and they had to guide her down in a slow methodical manner. There were also a number of other tents at the high camp. We had gained roughly 1100 feet from the Muir hut and would be that much closer to the summit than the other climbers who start out with their summit attempt from the hut. I started to unpack my gear in the tent. With the extra room, I had plenty of space to lay everything out. We started to gather in the guide's tent around 3 o'clock. Lakpa was again hard at work cooking dinner, which was a noodle-filled soup. While we all ate, Nick and Dillan started to talk about the plan for the summit attempt. We would get up around 11 PM or so and head out roughly an hour later. The plan was to take only two breaks before reaching the summit. At some point Nick started to talk about his last summit attempt where the winds at high camp were gusting about 45 MPH. They decided to sleep a little longer in hopes that the wind would die down. Five hours later, however, the winds were still as strong as ever and they lost their summit window. They had to head back down to Paradise without even starting for the summit. Everyone headed back to their tent round 4 PM to try to get some rest before the very early (or late) start. The sun was still shining bright as I zipped up my tent cover. I knew I wouldn't get much, if any sleep, but I also knew that I wouldn't have to endure a hateful experience all night long. We would be getting up in only a few more hours. I put in my iPod ear buds and tried to relax. I must have dosed off just a bit because the next thing I knew, I thought the tent was going to be blown off of the mountain. The winds had started to pick up with strong gusts. I kept going in and out of lucid coherence, all the while with my weird hallucinations. The winds kept gusting and I didn't want to look at my watch to see what time it was. It eventually got dark outside so at some point I kept thinking that we could be minutes from getting the wake-up call. As the gusts continued to wreak havoc on my tent, I started to think whether this could be another attempt that would be foiled by the winds being too strong to climb in. Then I started to think whether that would be such a bad thing. I kept thinking of my two little princesses back home and how much I missed them. I wondered what I was doing up on that mountain. I was a little nauseated, having hallucinations, couldn't get any sleep, and all because I wanted to make myself miserable trying to get to the summit. On top of that, this is how it was on virtually all of my climbs. Did I really need to try to prove something to myself or anyone else? I didn't know the answer to that but I felt that this would be my last mountaineering trip, at least of the snow and ice variety. I didn't think it was worth it anymore. I kept going back and forth on whether I wanted to end the summit bid, and its agony, due to the weather. It reminded me of my jitters during my trip to the Matterhorn. If the weather kept me from summiting then it wouldn't be my fault, but then I would think that I would be much happier in the end, which was only a half a day away, if I just sucked it up and gutted out a miserable few hours. How great would it be to be sitting down at the obligatory post-climb burger stop on the way back to Seattle having summited rather than being blown off the mountain? Either way, in only around 15 hours we would be in that restaurant chair. How would I like it to end? The only thing that was up to me was what I wanted to happen. I didn't know what to think. I wanted the summit, but I also wanted to head down. Out of nowhere and through the howling wind, I could hear Dillan say "Time to wake up.... time to wake up". My heart dropped. I guess we were going to make the summit bid. I couldn't believe it. I was virtually certain that the winds were too strong to climb up in. I guess I was wrong. I started to get dressed and tried to focus on the thought that, yes, I now have the chance to head back home having summited the mountain that defeated me four years prior. As I joined others in the guide's tent for breakfast, I noticed a new face in the crowd. It was our fourth guide Craig. He had climbed up to the Muir hut earlier in the day, rested for a few hours, and just arrived at the high camp. While the others were eating oatmeal and drinking hot drinks to warm their bodies, all I could muster was a small breakfast bar and some water. I knew the key to success was fueling the body, and for that I needed to eat. But I just couldn't do it. I was worried that it would upset my stomach. I would have to try to gut it out like I did on the other climbs where I ate minimally as well. I was the first to leave the tent to start to gather my pack and get my crampons on. Soon, everyone else followed suit. I walked up to where everyone was gathering. It was pitch black and the wind was gusting in quick, fierce gusts. It was actually pretty loud and made it hard to hear one another. The wind made it bitterly cold but we knew that we would warm up once we started hiking. I never even checked to see how clear the sky may have been, as I usually like to see the endless panarama of stars. As I was standing there, I saw the guides getting the rope teams ready. It dawned on me that with Craig arriving for the climb, it might just be me and him on a rope. I liked that idea just from the perspective of being the only one Craig had deal with so it would be more of my pace even though he was leading. What I didn't like, however, was that it looked like we were going to be the last rope team. This meant that I would be able to see the headlamps of the rope teams ahead of us and see how far ahead they were and how much higher they were. Even though it was too dark to see the terrain, I would be able to judge the steepness of the slope based on their headlamps. The last thing I wanted was to be exhausted and see another steep stretch ahead of us. It would also make us the last ones into the break areas and most likely give us a shorter break time. I don't remember seeing any other climbing teams heading up the mountain even though there had been quite a few other tents at the high camp. I knew that we had a good head start on the teams that would be coming up from the Muir hut though. This meant that we would be up and back down before most of the other climbers. We started to head up as four rope teams in a single file line, with me being dead last. Our route was going to take us up to the snow and rock slopes of Disappointment Cleaver. The beginning sections were not too bad. It wasn't too steep but the real problem was the wind. The gusts were coming right at us so as you walked forward, a strong gust of wind would hit you and it orced you to lose a little bit of your balance. It took extra energy just to keep moving forward at times. There was no need for sunglasses just yet and there wasn't enough snow blowing in the air to force us to put on our goggles, so with nothing protecting the eyes, it sometimes became a challenge to keep the eyes open and looking forward. We eventually made our way to the large rock band that was to the upper-right of the high camp. Like the day before, we headed off of the snow and ice and onto the rock paths. We stayed on the rock much longer than the day before. It was difficult to maneuver up the path filled with various sized rocks and slippery scree. It was much harder to deal with than the snow; at least for me. Every once in a while I would look up and notice that we either right behind the third rope group or a good distance behind them. We finally exited the rock area and gained access back onto the snow. We slowly trudged along. I started to notice the groups on increasingly steeper slopes and knew that is where I still needed to go. Every once in a while, the path was a bit more horizontal than vertical, which was a nice change, but those sections were very few. Finally, after coming over a small knoll, I saw the other rope teams were gathered for the first of two rest breaks. The goal here was to eat and drink as much as possible to keep the tank fueled. The first thing everyone did after taking off their pack was to get out the large parka with hood to try to keep as warm as possible. The wind was still whipping and making it colder than we would have liked. Shivering expended much needed energy. As I expected, I could hardly muster a few bites of my energy bar and a little bit of water. The first thought that came into my mind was that we were roughly 1/3 of the way there. We were getting closer. I didn't feel too bad. I was tired but hadn't had the need to ask Craig to stop for a standing rest break. I kept telling myself that once we got to the next break point, we would be on the final leg of the summit journey. I just needed to focus to get me to that second break. It didn't seem like we had been there too long before everyone started getting packed up and ready to go. We would wait another couple of minutes before we started to head out. I really wished Craig and I were the first rope team so that we would always be at the high point of the teams, rather than the furthest behind. Finally it was our turn to get moving. The others were already well on their way up the slope. It was still pitch black and probably around the 2 AM hour. Something that Nick had indicated the day before made me think that the first part was going to be the steepest, but the route didn't let up any. I kept putting one foot in front of the other, just looking at the slack in the rope between Craig and me. Ideally, the rope would have just enough slack to be touching the ground at the mid-point. Whenever I noticed I had too much slack by my feet, I would take an extra-long rest step until the slack was gone. I started to get into this rhythm where I would take a few quicker steps to produce the extra slack so that I could take those longer rest steps. I didn't want to look up at the other rope teams too much because I knew that if their location indicated a good length of steep slope still to go, I would get in an emotional funk. On the other hand, I always hoped that I might see them further along on a mild slope. The route started to transition from a smooth and flat trail to a more rutted path where you had to walk with your feet further apart or one foot would be higher than the other. Although not as bad as walking on the rock paths, these rutted paths were difficult in their own right. You had to pay more attention to what you were doing and made moving up the slope more cumbersome. I started to get more tired. For some reason, I focused on the trip four years earlier and how I made the call to not go on any further. I kept reminding myself that I couldn't do that again. I think I was psyching myself out by equating my getting more tired with the thought that I may not make it. Visions of telling Craig I could not go on and having to head back down to high camp to wait for the successful summiters to come down just made me shake my head. While I was not at a point where I felt I needed to stop and evaluate if I could go on, I finally did shout up to Craig to stop for a quick standing rest. I knew that by asking that, Craig would be put on alert that I may be having problems. After about a minute, I had not fully recovered but I knew that it wouldn't get any better so I shouted to Craig that I was ready to move on. I didn't want to wait too long as I knew that Craig wanted to keep a nice steady pace up the route. I knew he wouldn't want to have to stop like this many more times before he would question me as to my physical state. The last thing I wanted was for Craig to determine that we would have to turn around. We progressed up further... and further..... and further. I noticed that we were a bit further back from the other rope teams now. They must have been moving slightly faster than us. The rutted path continued on, and it became more and more tiring trying to maneuver up the path. My second salvation finally came. The others were resting just ahead of us. We had made it to the second break. We were now more than halfway there. I took off my pack and got out my large parka. There was no change from the first break when it came to the eating and drinking. Between the two breaks, I ate maybe half of my energy bar and drank a quarter of my liter bottle of water. I knew that my lack of energy was due to the lack of eating but I couldn't force it down. It dawned on me that once we started moving, the next official break would be at the summit. I was getting so close to lifting that burden of failure off of my shoulders. I kept telling myself that one more leg was all that was left. I couldn't stop now. It was probably close to 3:30 AM by now but I didn't look at my watch. In fact, I hadn't looked at my watch since "breakfast" at around 11:30 PM, so I didn't know how long we had been climbing for sure. I was only going on the timetable that Nick had set out the day before. The rope teams started to file out in the order that they arrived. We were now on the last leg. I was extremely psyched that we were almost there. No more steep slopes that would only lead to the next rest stop. The summit would eventually be right over the next bend. Craig started to lead the way. The other teams were once again a good bit ahead of us. I figured we were about an hour and a half or so away from our goal. The route didn't seem to ease up any. I started to get into my rhythm of just putting one foot in front of the other and trying to take advantage of the rest steps. It wasn't long before I started to get tired again and the thoughts of not making it entered my mind. The deja vu of me not making it and the others being triumphant on the summit was bugging me. I decided to ask Craig for another rest-in-place for a moment. I took a few deep breaths as I stood there. Like the first extra rest break, I was not able to fully recover before I gave Craig the signal to move on. The wind had not yet let up as we continued on. After a while I started to look more and more at the rope teams ahead of us. We were getting closer and I was hoping that the next time I looked up, I would see that the slope was leveling out and the lead team was no longer moving. It wasn't happening though; at least not yet. I was getting more disheartened the more I looked up. The other climbers seemed to always be a steep slope away with no end in sight. I felt that I needed to take another rest, but I didn't want to say anything just yet. I felt that I only wanted to ask Craig for one more rest break and so I wanted to save it for a more serious situation. I kept pushing on up the route. I noticed more and more that my eyes were hurting due to the blowing wind. It wasn't blowing snow into my face but the strong wind seemed to irritate my eyes. I then thought that maybe I could take a short break by mentioning to Craig that I needed to put my goggles on to help protect my eyes. I stopped and yelled up to Craig. His reply caught me a little off-guard as he yelled back down "Goggles, what do you need your goggles for". I knew that he had heard my reason. He yelled back down for me to just put my hard shell's hood on. I fumbled to get it around my helmet and headlamp as it was stuck behind my pack. I finally got it on but I couldn't tighten it up very well. The hood's edges flapped in the wind but it did seem to protect my eyes from the winds coming in from the side. I was able to use the time for my unscheduled rest break. We continued on. I decided that I wouldn't look up the slope much more. I knew that we had to be getting close, but with it still dark, I couldn't get a good fix on how much higher the slopes looked. Eventually my hood blew back off of my head. I didn't bother trying to get it back on though. My mind kept wandering off, thinking about how great it was going to be to head back home with a successful summit and how I wouldn't have to worry about this mountain anymore. As we came over a knoll, I sensed the slope easing up. I looked ahead and thought I saw the other climbers just ahead of us. For a moment it was hard to tell because Craig was blocking my view. I then saw all of the others sitting down in a circle. We had come over the crater rim and onto the summit. Could it really be! Did we finally make it I asked myself? I noticed that there was a bit more light now and you could see around the entire crater rim. As I took my pack off and started to get my parka out, the others started to get up and walk towards one side of the rim. They left their packs and headed out unroped. I knew that they were taking the extra hike to Columbia Crest; the highest point on the crater rim. Craig mentioned that if I wanted to head over there too, we would have to start in a few minutes. I got out my water and sat down. After a few moments, he asked if I wanted to walk over or just sit and rest. I decided that I was fine reaching the summit crater and would just rest. I started to drink some water and all of a sudden I felt that awful nauseating feeling. I turn away from Craig and gave a couple dry-heaves. I eventually had a couple more of those Kodak moments. I had that same feeling and the same dry-heaves as I took in some water on the way down from the mountain four years ago. This time I saved it for the summit. As I sat there I realized that it was finally over. I had made the summit and the great burden was lifted off of my shoulders. I knew getting up the mountain was only half of the battle, but I didn't see any scenario of me not making it back down, even if I forced Craig to rest every 100 yards. I eventually stood up and had Craig take some pictures with my Mt. Dew summit champagne, although I didn't even try to open it for a drink. The others were all standing on Columbia Crest and I could see their camera flashes going off. I wish I was over there with them but it didn't bother me that I wasn't. Before the others started to head back to their packs, Craig felt it was best if we just began to head back down ahead of them. I was all for that. As we headed down, it was light enough that I could see the terrain below us. As we rounded another section of a switchback, Craig stopped and pointed off in the distance. The sun was just breaking over the mountains to the east. I got my camera out and took a quick picture of the sunrise and then one of Craig. I was surprised to see how steep the current slope was. The descent was much easier than the ascent, as is typically the case. The other truism to this is that going downhill is a thigh burner. We were making good time but at one point I finally had to yell down to Craig that I needed a thigh break. On the way down, we passed a few climbing parties coming up. I saw the exhaustion in their faces as they passed, most not even looking up. Eventually, the next rope team caught up to us. We soon all came together for a rest break, the only one planned for the descent before reaching the high camp. At that point we were almost at the rock band and each guide on the rope would be on the tail end with one of the clients leading. Craig decided to let the others go ahead of us as we were a bit slower on the descent. I led our descent through the awful rock band and we eventually found our way to the tents at high camp. The others were already there. I went to my tent and took off my pack and then just laid there. When I looked at my watch for the first time since leaving for the summit, I saw that it was still before 8 AM. I had to do a double-take. I just thought it would be much later than that. As soon as people were ready, a guide would take two of us and head back down to the Muir hut where we would take a longer break. I left with Lakpa shortly after the last of the others took off. It took about an hour to reach the Muir hut. Once at the guide's tent, we unroped and packed our crampons and helmets, as they were not needed for the descent on the snowfield. After a long break, we started to head down the Muir snowfield. We decided that everyone could go down at their own pace and we would meet up at a particular area about 3/4 of the way back. One group started out fast. I was by myself in the middle and then there was a group coming down behind me. The further we went, the further apart we spread out. The snowfield was just a wide swath of snow that was trampled down by all of the climbers and hikers traveling on it throughout the summer. At times I found myself looking around and not seeing a single person. It was a perfectly sunny day and I felt pretty good about the day's events. Heading down at my own pace suited me just fine. After a couple of hours hiking down, we all gathered at the designated spot. About an hour or so later, we reached the Paradise parking lot. Not long after arriving, the AAI truck pulled up and we were able to change into some other clothes for the ride back. It was still only the late AM and the guides mentioned how surprised they even were that we had reached Paradise so early. As was the tradition with the guides, we stopped at one of local burger places about an hour out of the park. I was looking forward to this as a sign of my redemption from four years ago when I dejectedly sat with a group of climbers that had successfully summited. We all toasted our success and had a leisurely lunch.