Mountain summits are my favorite kind of hikes. I love the sense of accomplishment I get from climbing a mountain. I love 360 degree views and feeling like I’m on top of the world. I even fell in love with hiking on top of a Colorado 14er (a mountain over 14,000 feet tall). Some of Washington’s greatest peaks are heavily glaciated volcanoes that require technical mountaineering skills that are more advanced than those needed for typical day hikes.
All winter, I played with the idea of dipping my feet into the mountaineering world and decided to take a one day class with a local guiding company to learn the basics. I learned a lot during the class and really enjoyed it. After the class, I wanted to take on an “easy” mountaineering challenge to practice the skills I learned.
Mt. Rainier at 2:00AM from the Paradise parking lot
I set my sights on Camp Muir. Camp Muir sits at an elevation of 10,080 feet on Mt. Rainier. Many who plan to summit Mt. Rainier (14,411 feet total) spend the night at Camp Muir. Because the route to Camp Muir only passes over a snowfield instead of a glacier, it is less technical and less risky than other climbs. I decided climbing to Camp Muir would provide a relatively safe way to practice the skills I learned during mountaineering school.
I also wanted to attempt my first “alpine start” by starting the climb to Camp Muir at 1:00 or 2:00 AM. Even though that is extremely early, it is often easier to walk uphill on snow during the night when the snow is firm. Plus, I loved the idea of watching the sunrise from Camp Muir.
Full moon above Mt. St. Helens
My friend and I arrived at the trailhead at the Paradise Visitor Center at 1:45 AM, but by the time we got all of our gear on and were ready to go, it was already 2:15 AM. Since the sun rose only 3 hours later, at 5:15 AM, we would have to hustle to make it up to Camp Muir on time.
The night was still, clear, and cool. We were blessed with a nearly full moon which illuminated the majestic mountain in front of us. Even though it was night, it was still fairly warm. The snow was a little slushy at lower elevation, so the first part of the trail was slow going. Eventually, we made it up to Panorama Point at 7,000 feet, which was the first “milestone” of the trek. In the distance, we could see two other Washington volcanoes, Mt. Adams and Mt. St. Helens, peeking up over the Tatoosh Range. It was beautiful, even in the dark, and I tried my best to soak it in.
First light on the horizon
We made fairly quick progress the first few miles. Even though the snow was soft and slushy, the terrain wasn’t that steep. Once we reached the Muir Snowfield, however, our pace slowed drastically. Even though the snow was firmer at higher elevations, the terrain was much steeper. I was also finding it really difficult to find a rhythm and consistent pace, so I had to stop and rest every 20 steps at times.
By the time the sky started getting light around 4:45 AM, we were only at 8,000 feet, nearly 2,000 vertical feet below Camp Muir. There was no way we would be there by sunrise. I was a little disappointed, but the sunrise was still incredible from our vantage point.
Delicate pink clouds above the mountain
At first, the sun rose slowly, casting just a hint of yellow light across the eastern horizon. Then, there was a vibrant explosion of pink, yellow, and orange streaks across the sky. Mt. Adams and the other peaks to the south of us turned golden as the rays of light hit their snowy summits.
Pink and golden light over Mt. Adams (left) and Mt. St. Helens (right)
To the west, Mt. Rainier cast its magnificent shadow across the land. Above us, the glaciers on the upper mountain were painted in soft pink and purple hues. It was the most beautiful sunrise I have ever witnessed in my entire life. I stopped every few minutes to turn around, completely in awe of everything around me.
Shadow of Mt. Rainier in the clouds
Once the spectacular sunrise had passed, I snapped back into reality. We still had a long way to go, and I was kind of miserable. The terrain in front of us seemed so impossibly steep. When we reached the top of each slope, there was another steep slope in front of us. There was no end in sight.
Finally, at 9,400 feet, I could finally see the stone buildings at Camp Muir. It seemed impossible that we still had 600 vertical feet to climb. It was so close, but still so far. At least the end was finally in sight, and gave us the extra motivation we needed to keep climbing. Slowly, but surely, the stone buildings grew larger, and at 7 AM, we walked into Camp Muir at 10,080 feet.
Tents at Camp Muir
Camp Muir is a little village in the sky. Several stone buildings house climbers and serve as base camp for the guiding companies on the mountain. There were also many tents set up in the snow behind the buildings, providing shelter for those attempting the summit. Even though many people pass through Camp Muir during peak season, it was fairly quiet when we arrived. We were the first day hikers to reach camp, and most of those who had stayed the night before were still on the upper mountain near the summit. There was also very little wind, which added to the calm atmosphere of camp.
My friend and I quickly found a space to sit down and cook breakfast with my camp stove. After climbing 4,570 feet, we were very hungry. I enjoyed my cranberry oatmeal and citrus tea, thankful to be having breakfast in such an amazing place. When I finished eating, I put on copious amounts of sunscreen. Being 10,000 feet closer to the sun and surrounded by snow meant that I would sunburn twice as fast as normal.
One of the stone buildings
We spent nearly two hours at Camp Muir, relaxing, eating, and exploring. Finally, at 8:45 AM, we began the trip back to Paradise. By this point, the snow was very soft, which made for an easy descent. We were able to plunge-step quickly through the soft snow. I also took my ice axe off my pack and put my helmet on so I could glissade. Glissading is when someone slides down a snowy slope using an ice axe to control their speed. I hadn’t had much practice glissading, so I quickly lost control in the first glissade chute and slid faster than intended. It was scary to be out of control like that, but I was still able to come to a stop at the end of the chute.
Glissading
At the next glissade chute, I changed my grip on my ice axe and used all my strength to force the spike of my ice axe into the snow to act as a brake. I did a much better job controlling my speed that time. Gaining confidence, I began to try longer and steeper glissade chutes. It was so much fun to slide down the mountain! We descended the Muir Snowfield in half the time it had taken us to ascend and we were in a great mood. Several times on the way down, we stopped to look back up what we had just come down. It looked very steep at times, and we were very proud of ourselves for persevering on the way up.
Looking back up at the steep terrain
My mood began to nose drive when we reached the end of the Muir Snowfield. I felt like I was in a solar oven, the sun bright above and the snow reflecting below. Even though we were going down the mountain, I was sweating more than I had on the way up. Plus, there were no more glissade chutes, so our pace slowed.
We had to cross several sections of terrain that were completely melted out. Though great on solid snow, stiff mountaineering boots are not very comfortable when traversing exposed, rocky trails. But, even the snow was more difficult to walk on at this point. It was so soft and slushy and we went slipping and sliding with each step we took. There were also more people on trail, so we kept stopping to yield to uphill hikers, as is common courtesy when hiking. I was definitely ready to be done.
Every so often, however, I would stop and admire the stunning mountain behind me. I also got to witness a few avalanches on the upper reaches of the massive Nisqually Glacier. I was reminded of the sheer destructive power of the mountain and was thankful to be a safe distance away.
Majestic mountain
Finally, the parking lot of Paradise was in sight and we finally reached my car at 12:15 PM. It had been a ten hour journey, with eight of those hours on the move. We were completely exhausted, but so proud of ourselves. It is definitely the hardest thing I have ever done.
Climbing to Camp Muir was an unforgettable, amazing experience, even though some parts were miserable in the moment. But, that’s the thing about Type II fun: looking back, you tend not to remember the difficult moments as much as the good ones. This won’t be my last trip to Camp Muir. Next time I hope I’ll be passing through on my way to the summit.
Boot pack across the Cowlitz Glacier heading towards the summit
