13. Camp Muir — JBT Rainier

"The point we stopped at the Ingram Flats was when I was worried the most; Not at 13,000 feet; not at the summit. It was when we were below the summit on our descent; I wasn’t sure how I was coming down off the mountain. I just wasn’t sure whether it was going to be by my own feet or carried down the mountain… yeah, I didn’t know. I was in negative energy point. Beyond zero.'To be honest, that picture that I took where you’re looking down on camp Muir, was like the biggest welcome surprise" - Toby about his AMS on the mountain

Tents line the valley leading up to the Ranger Cabin we checked in at. Our tent is the orange one on the far right of the picture.

"Hey there," I said. "I'm Ben, this is Jim and Toby and we have a reservation for a site tonight."

"What route did you come from?"

"We came over from the Kautz Glacier route a few days ago and descended the D.C. from the summit today."

"Ah," he said, "so you're our Kautz team. We've been waiting for you. Go find a spot that works and set up. Thanks for checking in."

At this point it seemed a little ridiculous to mention we had a "reservation" for a tent site. I mean, what the hell else were we gonna do? But we go through the motions, somewhat awkwardly, and I couldn't think of a better way of working into the conversation my question about what was next; what are the procedures at places like this, if any at all, really? I guess they involve reservations.

It took me by surprise that he referred to us as The Kautz Team; I felt proud of the fact that we had lead the trip unguided and that we hadn't chosen the standard, most common route. The D.C. or Disappointment Clever route is by far the most popular with 5400 yearly attempts. This route essentially base camped from Camp Muir; climbers reached the camp the first day, slept as much as they could, woke up very late, around 11pm or 12am, attempted the summit and were ideally back down to Camp Muir that same day. both the Kautz Glacier route and the D.C. route began from the Paradise parking lot and ascended southern aspects of the mountain. The second most traveled route was the Emmons Winthrop route at 1700 attempts per year. The Emmons Winthrop route starts out of Glacier Basin and climbs mostly the north facing aspect of Mt Rainier. Our route had ascended the Kautz Glacier route, which sees roughly 450 attempts per year, and had descended the D.C. route. What we accomplished was called a carry-over. We'd chosen to do it this way so that we could ultimately see more of the mountain. As you've seen from other references, many others have certainly accomplished this same trip, but the way the ranger spoke, and the exhaustion that had set in, maybe even the over abundance of oxygen I now felt having descended 3,000 feet that day, made me feel accomplished for what we'd just completed.

Jim getting food ready. The break in the rocks up above is where we'd descended from a few hours prior.

When we reached Camp Muir we stopped in the middle of brightly colored tents to coil our rope and pull our crampons off. We looked around, a bit anxious for a place to set up our tent. We'd made a "reservation," and the place looked pretty crowded. 100 years ago, maybe even less no one would have cared about a reservation for a random spot to sleep at 10,000 feet. We live in a world now of pre-bookings and reservations, cancellations, wait-lists, lines and "take a number." It may or may not be real. We very likely impose this anxiety on ourselves as a spurious way of relying on some orderly predictability; we lean on this predictability because it becomes some way of holding anything else accountable but ourselves when we don't get what we expect.

I felt anxious and I was a bit pissed at myself for feeling that way. We were at 10,000 feet and the valley that formed camp Muir was hundreds of square yards in area, and I think I remember counting 20 tents. I calmed myself. I finished coiling our rope and we walked down to the ranger shack. This shack, originally known as the "Guide" or "Climbers" shelter was built in 1916 out of the rocks found on the ridge, so it blends into the rocky spine that is the Muir Saddle. There were skis outside, beautiful, wide, florescent gear with simple A.T. bindings and sharp logos and images on them. The bright colored skis were lined up against the cold, gray rocks that formed the foundation of the hut.

Ranger hut and 'A' frame behind it at Camp Muir. "The historic Guide Shelter, originally known as the Climber's Shelter, was designed by Seattle Architect, Carl F. Gould (a member of The Mountaineers). The structure blended in naturally, almost to the point of being camouflaged with the surrounding ridge since it was made up of stone found on the ridge. Currently, the exterior rock walls are mortared, but historical photographs indicate that the walls originally were dry-stacked. The one-room interior contains sleeping quarters and a small kitchen. The shelter was repaired in 1966 as a result of structural deterioration, then in 1969 it was converted for use as a kitchen and quarters for guide service staff. Despite a relatively unsophisticated building effort, the Guide Shelter has stood for more than eighty years in a severe environment relatively intact. This structure is currently used by NPS climbing rangers."

I walked up the "street" a bit, really more of a doublewide dirt path, and not a very long path in the first place, maybe 150 yrds at most. There was another bunk house on the down hill side of the road for guided trips, and an older 'A' frame ranger cottage at the top of the road with a big radio antennae protruding from the roof.

I came back down the hill to the ranger hut and peered my head into a warm, familial doorway of mountain rangers cooking and shooting the shit in that very "ya'll," "right-on" way I'd grown used to since moving west from New York. The hut was stone and concrete with a flat roof; it looked like something i'd seen from pictures of Nepal, not the states. Even most of the 10th mountain huts are wood, although some are yurts. The inside was filled with steam. There was barely enough room to stand so if you weren't the one cooking you were laying in a bunk with gear shoved to the corners.

I was met with an ultimately calming demeanor of a person. "Hey guys. What can i do for you?" from a long brown haired, bearded, skinny, weathered ranger of an immediate friend. He was so welcoming, he could have been Santa Clause.