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A Grand Time at Grand Park
Larry Ingalls
What to do for New Year’s weekend? Poll friends. Mike busy, John family
time, Donna other plans. Check the old standby, The Mountaineer. “Three
day winter scramble to Grand Park.” Cold snow camping at 5,600' next
to Rainier on New Year’s weekend. Cold, very cold. How far? Ten and
a half miles? On snowshoes? Tough, even with eight logging road
miles. Gain? 3,400'? Fatigue, exhaustion, camp down in cold snow
on a too long a day battling
snow. Alternatives? None. Call leader, Sara Matoi. Say what? The
Plan: ski on road, snowshoe on steep, deep snow. Volunteer to snowshoe
with Allison,
another nonskier. Sacrifice to be a buddy on a trek like this.
Get ready. Rig up a sled to pull big radiant heater! Oops, not
with the Mountaineers. Bad vision of tinkering with stove in harsh winter.
Fix temperamental stove, my Whisper Lite. Buy kit, change jet, soak burner,
soak fuel line, and scrub it out good. Test it. Once, twice, thrice; okay,
looks good. Layers? Conflict: warmth versus weight. Better to camp on the
wayside than be too cold from lack of layers. Buy Polartec pants. How many
layers? Four on the south side and seven on the top with one for good measure.
Hands, my Achilles’ heel. Fear of flesh freezing to metal. Lightweight
gloves under heavyweight gloves for travel, warm mittens for sitting around
camp. And little heater packets. Regular boots or plastic boots? It’s
the plastic age.
Arrival. Early start on crusty hard snow. No snow shoes needed.
What a break. Dawn of a great day. Press-on hard, looking over shoulder
for skiing friends. Four, five, six miles, no skiers. Seven miles the first
appears. Skiing is so much faster than hiking; yeah, right. Well, at least
this day, us hikers were up to the skiers. Gather before cutting up ridge
through trees. Head for Lake Eleanor, then plateau at Grand Park. A beautiful
day, but few vistas before the meadow and The Mountain. Three-thirty and
darkness comes early. One quick look at the setting sun’s glow on
Mt. Rainier. Then hurry to set up camp.
Pick a spot sheltered by trees. Sky’s clear, thank heaven; but the
wind howls. Throw up tents, build snow block trench kitchen. Stand and cook.
Stand and eat. Don’t stop moving. Gas stove melts water. Melt, melt,
MELT. Pine needles add flavor to freeze-dried meals and drinks.
Seven-thirty, sack time! Peel off a couple layers. Sleep comes
quickly. Then awake with creeping cold. Put layers back on. Then awake with
creeping, gnawing cold chill on flat Thermarest. Flat? Claw marks? Fill
it every hour.
Morning already. Pack cover? In the trees. Sunrise glow on Rainier.
Scramble ridge to Fremont Lookout with mean snow spinnakers? Not. Cross
Grand Park and drop to Beverly Park with murder traverse to Burroughs Mountain.
On the move, nice and warm. Short breaks or freeze in the wind chill. Bright
snow contrasts with rock cliffs. Fantastic view: Adams, Stewart, Tolmie,
Castle, First and Second Mother. Quick pictures in howling wind. Fast trip
down. Soft snow with light crust. Run to keep in balance. Avoid face plants.
Four o’clock, back at camp. Quickly pile on layers. Awe at sunset.
Gather in snow trench kitchen for gourmet freeze-dried dinners. Share experiences.
Stories of Mark on Denali. Dinner done. Too early for bed on New Year’s
Eve. Stars everywhere: Deneb, Altair, the North Star, the Milky Way, the
universe clearly visible. Shooting star? Gone. Sleep through New Year’s?
But wait. Sara breaks out noise makers and glow lights. Terrible noise in
peaceful wilderness succumbs to the howling wind. No one disturbed. We are
alone. Then sleep, disturbed only by the hourly blow into Thermarest and
wind whipping tent. A good night—no frostbite.
Departure. Extremely transient feeling of remorse about leaving
Grand Park and Mt. Rainier. Fast hike out. Back to the truck. Cheated icy
death again. Park ourselves by the fire at a tavern and thoroughly enjoy
greasy hamburgers and fries. Make false vows to return. Thus, came to a
close a grand time at Grand Park. |