Finding Providence on the Mountain

I had a dream to climb a mountain.

A few years ago I happened-upon a couple documentaries of folks climbing up Everest.  No, I had no desire to climb Everest, but this Midwestern boy did want to find something of modest height and climb it.  I began searching out various mountains and dreaming of being on their summit.

In the fall of 2010 I began seriously considering ascending Mt. Whitney - the tallest peak in the lower 48 states.  The plan was to gather a few companions, fly to Las Vegas, drive through Death Valley and over to Whitney.  But the more I researched mountain climbing the more I realized altitude sickness is a very real foe.  And some of my comrades became a bit wary of Whitney's "pack it out" policy (no need to go into detail, just Google "wag bag", enough said).  These obstacles were real, but not enough for me to abandon the adventure.  But then over Christmas 2010 I was stricken with a wicked stomach flu, causing me to pass-out and smack my face on the bathtub (for more on that, see Belated Christmas).  Hmm, maybe I am not cut-out for high altitude climbing (passing out at 14,000' doesn't sound very fun) - so the dream had to be put on hold...

But dreams don't die easily, so in the fall of 2011 the climbing itch came back.  No, not Whitney, but some mountain that had some history or something unique.  There are a plethora of fourteeners in Colorado, but they didn't catch my fancy.  I wanted to find something with more character...  What about Mt St Helens?  Now there's some history, some character, something definitely unique.  And the summit is "only" 8365' so seemed like a pretty easy mountain to conquer.

So plans were put in place to obtain the necessary permits and give it a go.  During peak season only 100 climbers are allowed per day so on February 1st I quickly ordered a few permits for August 13th.  Climbing day was set.  I had originally planned the trip to be of the "guys only" variety, but a string of events (Providence?) modified my plans.  My brother was all-in for the trip; the others I asked weren't so certain.  But God is always working all things together and His hands were forming my plans.  Our niece's husband was hoping to take a pastoral internship with Village Missions.  They had driven out to Oregon to interview with the ministry in hopes of being placed in a country church.  At the time I joked with Mary, "Ha, wouldn't it be cool if Isaac and Bethany were placed in Washington?"  But truth be told they could be placed anywhere in the US;  East coast, West coast, Midwest...  But Providence was at work and to our amazement they were asked to come to a church in Ariel, WA, about 10 miles from the base of Mt St Helens.  Really?  I mean, really??

By this time I had already purchased the permits so the "guy trip" quickly transformed into a "family vacation."  How could we pass-up the opportunity to visit our precious Betsy and cute little Cynthia?  (oh, and Isaac, too :-)  So more plans were put in place to travel out West for a full week.  Now the trip was much more than a mountain.  Elizabeth had never ridden on a plane; for several months she anticipated sitting in seat 7C on the Sun Country Boeing 737, looking out the window at the world below.  I began considering what training to perform in preparation for the mountain adventure.  I tried biking and some local hiking, but as you'll find out, there really isn't anything in Minnesota that can prepare you for a mountain climb.  The Elba fire tower is a start, but that climb is about 1/15th of what I needed (and who wants to ascend/descend the same stairs 15 times?).

Soon the trip was upon us and we packed our bags for the Pacific Northwest.  I had never been out this direction and was curious to see the landscape and surroundings.  If my count is right, Washington and Oregon would be my 40th and 41st states (yes, I even count being in New Mexico even though it was just at the Four Corners).  Our plane arrived on-time, we met up with John at Chipotle in Federal Way, then drove down to our accommodations in Cougar, WA (a quaint cabin at the Lone Fir Resort).  It was hard to sleep that night knowing I'd be climbing on the mountain in the morning.

One concern I had leading up to the trip was the weather.  The PNW is obviously known for cool and rainy weather.  However, in August things dry out and we were blessed with warm and sunny conditions.  I awoke around 5:30am, went outside and beheld the beauty of the area.

I took the opportunity to pray and read the verse of the day from my DailyBible app.  To my surprise it was Proverbs 15:33,

The fear of the Lord is the instruction of wisdom,

And before honor is humility

I chuckled as I read that last phrase and thought, "Lord, you aren't going to humble me today, are you?"

Soon we packed the Jeep Wrangler (John's rental), drove the 4 miles to Isaac's house, then up to the climber's bivouac at the base of Mt St Helens.  It's hard to describe the awesomeness of that place.  The bluffs of Minnesota seem almost trivial after seeing such beauty.  On our way to the bivouac we got our first glimpse of the mountain.  I meant to take a video, but accidentally took a picture.  Oh well...  We were awed by the size of the beast.

A little aside...  So a week before this epic journey I was given an extravagant gift of a Go Pro Hero2 camera.  The picture above was taken with the Go Pro.  It is a really fun device and we had a blast using it on the mountain and during the rest of our vacation.

Soon we were safely at the bivouac and ready to ascend the trail.  The first two miles are in the woods.  This is a classic PNW woods, full of large fir covered with moss.

We were in these woods for quite a while and then reached a clearing where we could clearly see Mt Hood and Mt Adams.  I didn't expect to see Mt Hood (about 60 miles away) so well; it was an awesome sight to behold.

After a while we were out of the trees and into the rocky debris.  In my research I knew the climb could be split into three parts.  The woods, the rocks, and the ash.  The impression I got from my reading is that the ash would be the hardest part; perhaps this is true, but let me tell you, scrambling for a mile or two over knee-high rocks up 2500' was way more difficult than I ever imagined.  Even our nephew-in-law Isaac (aka, mountain man) was surprised by the difficultly and duration of the rocks.

So we had reached 4800' and the timberline.  Notice the stumpy little trees at this point; these trees are probably many years old, but just can't grow up :-)

We took a short break, then ascended the rocks.  It was pretty fun starting out, jumping from rock to rock.  We were gaining elevation very quickly now.  Soon we could see the summit in the distance.

We overtook a group who offered to snap a picture of us three; it would be the only such picture that day so I'm thankful for their impromptu offer to snap it.

At this point I really thought it wouldn't be all that much longer until we reached closer to the summit, and the dreaded ash.  Boy, was I wrong.  We kept scrambling over rocks, up over more rocks, more rocks, and then more rocks.  My main concern heading into the climb was that my legs would cramp up.  So I brought plenty of liquid and downed Gatorade and water at a good pace.  But soon I could feel the legs start to twinge and I knew we had to take more breaks.  It's so hard to capture elevation in a photo; the one below helps show the slant of the ascent.

I strapped on the Go Pro for a climb up one of the many rocky hills on the way up.  Up, up, up, only to find another rock hill ahead...

We were now high enough to see the perpetual glaciers.  Hmm, perhaps we could glissade after all...

We kept climbing and my legs kept twinging.  But I figured more rest would help give me the strength to reach the summit.  At about 7000' a little thief came looking for his bounty:

We continued climbing, but now in addition to the legs, my stomach wasn't feeling very well.  Hmm, I can deal with leg cramps, but a queasy stomach isn't something I bargained for.  We went a bit further and took another break.  Now I was feeling worse.  I thought perhaps I needed some food for energy so downed a granola bar.  Not a good idea.  After a short climb we took another break and I revealed the news to John and Isaac.  I needed to take a rest and see if I could regain my strength.  But as I sat there at 7300' the queasy feeling only intensified.  I could see the summit about 1000' above, but it looked unattainable.  I rested a few more minutes, but was only feeling worse.  The last place I wanted to be was exactly where I was.  For months I dreamed of being at that point, but at that moment I wished to be anywhere but there.

I considered the options and the only reasonable answer was to abandon the climb.  I handed the Canon T2i to John and asked him to get some good pics at the summit.  He offered to come down with me, but I figured if I went down I might start feeling better.  I told them, "I'm okay with it," and to be honest I was ok with it.  I had to let go of my dream, being in sight of the summit I so longed to attain.

So I began the descent down the mountain, hoping, praying, that I would feel some relief.  The first few minutes down were difficult.  My legs were burning and I wasn't feeling much better.  But then after 15-30 minutes I was actually feeling pretty good.  My legs weren't cramping and the queasiness was gone.  Was I sickened by the altitude?  No, I don't think I was high enough for that.  For some reason the 100 oz. of liquids just weren't kicking in on the climb up.  But they were kicking in now and I was feeling much better.  I was so thankful.  I praised God for His plan, Providentially leading me to this point.

I knew it would take John and Isaac nearly two hours to summit and catch-up with me, so I slowed down to take in the views from the mountain.  It was so awesome.  I went "off-trail" to look at the flowers growing on the barren mountain and trudged onto the glaciers.  The snow was melting; fresh mountain water trickled down the rocks.  I had to pull-out a short self-video using the "Drive Thru History" angle (if you're unfamiliar with the series you can find the trailer here).

Now, for some glissading...

John did get some amazing pics at the summit, but I won't share those here; it wasn't my summit to conquer on that day.  Could I have done more training?  I suppose.  Was the hot weather was too much for my body?  Perhaps.  Maybe we were pacing too quickly?  Probably not.  Maybe we should have taken more breaks?  Possibly.  There are so many "what-ifs" and believe me, I've gone over many of them.  But in the end the only answer I have is:  Providence.  No, this isn't a cop-out saying, "I didn't fail, it was God who prevented me from doing this," but I do believe He was at work here.  I'm reminded of a quote from "Facing the Giants" when the coach answers the question "does God care about football?"  Coach says, "God cares about football because He cares about you."  In 1 Peter 5:7 it says, "casting all your cares upon Him for He cares for you."  So the Lord was doing a work in me that day; He was showing me that He cares for me.  He taught me to trust Him, to set my affections on things above and not on things on the earth (Colossians 3:2).  He taught me thankfulness.  He taught me humility.

On the way down that mountain I was awed by the beauty God has created.  I was able to take it all in.  It was so amazing to view the beautiful valley below.  That's one thing about the mighty Cascades I hadn't realized; their prominence is very impressive.  The valley below only sits at about 500' which allows for breath-taking views for miles in all directions.

So it is true that before honor is humility.  I had no doubt in my mind I would conquer the mountain that day, but it didn't happen.  And I'm ok with it.  It is true I didn't summit, but I did climb the mountain.  I did experience what it's like to be thousands of feet above the valley floor, hiking on a volcano.  So when I take a step back and consider all that happened, I can say I am truly thankful and would choose it again.  I've had folks ask me if I'm going to try a second attempt.  No, I don't think so.  Sure, I could spend more time, more money, more thought on how to conquer it, but for what gain?  To say I made it to the top?  That might provide some feeling of accomplishment, but at what cost?

Remember how this started out as a "guy" trip?  Wouldn't that have been an epic fail?  But this was transformed into a family vacation.  The climb was just one day of many.  We were able to fellowship with Isaac and Bethany (and sweet Cynthia).  The next day we went to the Johnston Ridge Observatory to behold beauty in the ashes.  We saw the Pacific Ocean.  We had great fellowship with Christian friends in Seattle.  Our eyes saw the glory of Mt Rainier...

It was a great trip and I found Providence on the mountain...