Rising above Seattle like a massive ice cream cone, Mount Rainier is the fifth-highest mountain in the continental United States. About 11,000 people attempt to climb the glaciated peak annually, but only about half of them reach the top.

Milford resident Scott Axelson is one of them

In August, 2000, Axelson, then 36, and five friends (nine started out) successfully ascended the 14,410 foot capstone of Washington state.

The climbers, whose ages ranged from 24 to 76, were Massachusetts residents Andrea Arakelian, Bob Elms and Bob Juckins (Holden); Jim and Brian Matheson (Jefferson); Marti Jordan (Rutland); Paul Glazebrook (Dracut); Keith Moore (Needham) and Axelson who is a research engineer at Saphikon.

The plan to climb the most extensively glaciated volcanic peak in the continental United States germinated last winter.

“A group of us had done some high adventure programs with (Boy) scouting,” said Axelson who was an assistant Boy Scout troop master in Holden, Massachusetts for several years. A couple of them tried to do Rainier in 1997, but didn’t reach the summit. But they learned a lot about the particulars.

What they learned, said Axelson, was “not to race to the top. To take an extra day to set base camp up at a high elevation… to start (the climb to the summit) from a higher point on the mountain.”

On Aug. 12 the group flew to Seattle and set up camp at Cougar Rock campground in Rainier National Park the following day. On Aug. 14 they started their 78-hour trip at 10 a.m.

The group chose to climb the large, dormant volcano from Paradise (the highest point on the park road at 5,420 feet) via Camp Muir on the south side of the mountain.

Each member toted 50-70 pounds of gear which included food, water, extra clothing, ice axes, climbing harnesses, fuel, stoves, crampons, climbing rope, helmets, tents, and “lots of sunscreen,” said Axelson.

A 2 ¢-hour, 1.9-mile trek on the crushed stone path brought them to Pebble Creek at the foot of Muir snowfield. After eating lunch and refilling their water bottles, at 1 p.m., the group began to make its way up the 2.5-mile long snowfield to Camp Muir, taking in spectacular views of the Nisqually Glacier as ice and rocks tumbled down the mountain.

Even more disconcerting were the wide crevices stretching along the glacier.

“It was incredible to look at the massive slabs of ice and know that they were slowly moving down the mountain,” said Axelson. “It was dynamic and changing all the time. When we went up and came back there were differences in the path.”

At 7 p.m. they arrived at Camp Muir – an organized camping area at 10,000 feet southeast of the mountain’s summit.

“The plan was to get some sleep, pack up and move our camp to the plateau on the Ingraham Glacier at 11,000 feet,” said Axelson who explained that the higher base camp would serve as the springboard to the summit.

At noon Aug. 15, the group, roped together in two teams, began the four-hour hike to Ingraham Flats.

“After setting up base camp, eating and melting snow for water we turned in early so that we’d be on the trail by midnight,” said Axelson.

The early start was necessary to insure a safe crossing through the dangerous areas at night or early morning before the sun’s warmth began to melt and weaken the snow and ice bridges, said Axelson.

Aug 16 – Summit day

Summit day began in the dead of night. (“None of us heard our watches go off at 11 p.m. so we ended up waking at midnight,” said Axelson.

By 1:50 a.m. they were roped up and climbing the side of the mountain by the light of a full moon.

It was a magical feeling creeping over the snow in the silver light, said Axelson.

“It was so beautiful,” he recalled. “The full moon and brightness, the shadows carved by the peaks. Of course, we weren’t the only ones there – there were probably another 50 to 100 people in the process of doing the same thing over two miles of trail. You could see the lights of the headlamps of the other climbers twinkling off in the distance like fireflies above and below us.”

With the cold conditions and thin mountain air, after two hours of climbing through the most dangerous area, Bob Elms, Paul Glazebrook and Bob Juckins decided to turn back.

The remaining six regrouped at 12,500 feet.

Then, a few hours before sunrise, the team faced another crisis.

“Andrea Arakelian was having trouble drinking and eating,” said Axelson. “She was getting a little bit hypothermic… having trouble dealing with the whole experience. At that point it was a matter of whether we could go on or not. We had to make a decision.”

Fortunately, Mother Nature intervened.

“The sun was about one half-hour from breaking over the horizon,” said Axelson. “It was starting to get light so we decided to go on a little bit farther. We were hoping the warmth of the sun would help rejuvenate us and it did.”

Another obstacle

But the group soon faced another obstacle when they encountered a huge, unbridged crevasse.

“The opposite side was higher and on an awkward angle, so we couldn’t simply step over it,” said Axelson.

After considering several options, Brian Matheson finally came up with a strategy.

“Brian stepped forward with one boot, straddled the crevasse, then planted the tip of his ax into the snow bank on the far side and pulled himself up and over. He then took in the slack and belayed everyone over one at a time.”

Having successfully maneuvered the crevasse, the six climbers entered the home stretch.

“We could see we were above Gibraltar Rock’s 12,660-foot height,” said Axelson.

Working around the summit cone to the final set of switchbacks, Axelson and Keith Moore were the first to reach Point Success at the rim of the crater.

“We got up near the summit cone around 9:30 a.m. and waited for the rest of the group to get together,” said Axelson.

At Point Success, the group could see the whole crater, a round snow-filled bowl rising to uneven rocky points around the outside.

Dropping their backpacks, they walked across the volcano to Columbia Crest (the true summit at 14,410) and signed the summit registry “guest book”.

The summit of Rainier is a large snow covered volcanic crater ringed by smoking steam vents, said Axelson. “It’s an active volcano like Mt. St. Helens although it’s dormant at present.”

The views were breathtaking except for one vista.

“You could see the pollution over Seattle. The temperature inversion had trapped the smog. It was like a dark band – kind of purple, gray and brown – with the peak of Mount Adams to the south poking up through the band. It was disappointing to think… here we’re up here with this big, blue beautiful sky and you can see pollution.”

With the day getting on and in need of food and water, the group returned to Point Success and began the descent at 11:15 a.m.

Although the climb down was easier, there was still the ever present danger of shifting snow to contend with.

“We had to use a lot of care because we were hiking on a glacier that’s moving,” said Axelson. “It’s a dynamic system.”

While crossing one snow bridge, Axelson’s foot went through the snow.

“The ice bridges over some of the crevasses changed. We were going across this one bridge… I was second to the last… and as I stepped up off the bridge my foot went through and left a perfect outline.”

The troublesome crevasse on the way up proved uneventful.

“It was easier… a lot less troublesome,” said Axelson of the crossing. “We’d already done it and it was brighter… more daylight. So some of the fear factor was reduced. But we tried to get through the Ingraham Glacier serac (ice) field as quickly as possible. We wanted to get out of the ice and rock fall zone.”

Tired, sore and sunburned, they reached Ingraham Flats at 2:45 p.m. and crawled into their tents for a much-needed rest.

After getting up to make supper, they were back in bed by 8 a.m.

Slipping and sliding home

Although they labored to climb Mt. Rainier, getting home was a “blast,” said Axelson. The journey back to Camp Muir, the final section of roped travel, passed quickly and without incident.

“It took us one-and-a-half hours to get from Ingraham Flats to Camp Muir,” said Axelson.

“After stowing the climbing gear, the group took out a different apparatus to maneuver the final stretch to Paradise – plastic roll-up sleds.

“The corn snow of the Muir snowfield was like a luge run,” said Axelson. “Many of the paths had been worn down. We had brought light plastic roll-up sleds. That’s what they learned to bring from the first (1997) time they had tried to climb Rainier.

“We wanted to take the easiest down (the final 25 mile stretch) without walking. We accomplished what was a six-to-eight hour descent in less than four hours. It was a blast.”

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