So what happened?
We are back from our adventure and the lessons learned and experience gained were incredible and far beyond any of our expectations. In the end of the first round it is Mt. Rahm 1/ Steve and intrepid crew 0 but the battle isn't over and the trip was definitely worth the insane effort. I have become far closer to the two friends who accompanied me and have greater respect for two others whom I have never met. Before I begin the story let me just mention the two unmet folks.
Paul Klenke and Lowell Skoog are two guys about whom I have alternated feelings. Sometimes I felt like if I met them I'd want to spring for the beer and sometimes I felt like I should just murder them slowly and painfully. Paul Klenke put together the page on the internet which first got me thinking that a middle aged (50 marks the first third of my life) flatlander could make it up the mountain and Lowell Skoog seemed to confirm that because he casually does so on mountains regularly just to go skiing. These folks are animals and somewhat masters of understatement. I choose to believe this rather than thinking that I am incredibly out of shape and need to act my age.
The two guys who went along with me did so on very short notice and can't be thanked enough. It was a great journey and we are much closer for having gone through it. You don't find many friends like Greg Reid and John Carbin. Both traveled a long way to join and lent great help to the adventure. Greg seemed free of budget and had all the right stuff which showed me what I have to do next year and John demonstrated that, although an entire grocery store can indeed be carried on your back, it doesn't need to be done. We all did some right things and some wrong things and we all had strong and nearly broken times. I appreciate these guys for the help in getting to the point we did.
The start of the trip started out with the jeep cruise. Paul Klenke noted that a four wheel drive would be best suited and that the approach to the trail was over some of the most potholed roads imaginable. That was pretty accurate and the seatbelts were strained many times as we all flew about the interior of a rented Jeep Laredo. The problem was that there were some discrepancies of great consequence in the directions to follow to the trail head. We ended up having to go all the way back to town to refuel and attempt again after a couple wrong turns took us into the middle of nowhere. When we did find the right road it was little more than an ATC track and the Jeep broke through the branches as it bounced merrily along, airborne about half the time. Greg and John just marvelled at my extreme skill in missing potholes by sliding the Jeep ever closer to the cliffside leading down to certain death in Chilliwack lake. In the end we made it to the trail head many hours later than we originally planned and that may have been the real problem factor.
This is a photo of what I expected would be the last time we would ever see the Jeep. Parked in the only wide spot in the "road" just before it washed out. Almost all of the following photos can be enlarged by clicking on them
It was an exciting time. We were about to go off exploring. We found the trail and started off.
The trail made some sense for a while and was fairly well marked when it seemed doubtful or if it made a critical turn.
It seemed fine for the first half mile or so. It turned uphill for a short bit and we all laughed when we re-read Paul Klenke's comment that the first part was "relatively flat and unintersting". The phrase "compared to what?" was thrown about increasingly as we went. We made it fairly comfortably to the US/Canadian border marker and signed in.
All seemed good with the world. There was some spectacular scenery although it was mostly of deep forest and stream. We couldn't get a good concept of the overall trek here.
In this shot just past the border, Greg shows off his studly physique and I should mention to all the drooling ladies that he is indeed single.
He definitely came with all the fancy stuff including the trick trekking poles which would serve great use in getting my damaged body off the slopes but I digress.
At this point it seemed that the semi rational person who had originally laid out the trail had been replaced by a blind, drunken, sadist. It wandered and twisted and seemed to delight in going uphill only to lose that right away. We were beginning to understand that we had overpacked and that there is value in all the lightest gear. Still we managed to never lose the trail for more than a minute or so and were happy with our plodding progress. Depot Creek was an intermittent companion as we alternately walked along the banks and left it.
The more we travelled the more the windfall became a problem. It seemed that every tree in the forest made a specific attempt to fall over and lay right on the trail. This made for lots of grunting and groaning as well as balance beam walking on rotten mossy surfaces. One thing I have learned is that you don't end up taking photos of the worst of things because you are in the middle of it. Suffice it to say that there were times when this was much more of an obstacle course than a trail. It was also regularly climbing and descending. We were asking "relative to what?" an awful lot more as we thought about Mr. Klenke's "relatively flat and uniteresting" comment. After hours of trudging we were about to find out.
We were all holding up pretty well. John was cramping a bit and seemed a little dubious about whether sports massage applications were really any help. I should have just done one leg.
As we moved through the forest we kept thinking that it would be ok since it has been stated that an experienced person has made it from the car to the mountaintop to the car in one day although coming back was on headlamps. We figured one day to Lake Ouzel, one day up and down the mountain and back to the lake, and one day out of there would be fair. This is what both our experts had suggested and, to be fair, would have been fine if we had started earlier. We weren't worried although we should have been thinking that the legendary one day trips must be done stripped of all camping equipment and done by these human mountain goats on steroids. At that, if it was one day it sounds like it was still 15 -17 hours by a hauling butt experienced person. What the heck we had plenty of time.
In the distance we started to hear the sound of the falls. Now all of us had looked at topographical maps and we intellectually understood them but something wasn't registering. It seemed that almost all the photos of mount Rahm are taken from the base at Silver Lake and you are only looking at the last couple thousand feet of an 8,000 foot rise. We knew we needed to get there and we knew we had close to 3000 feet to make in the first day to our planned base at Lake Ouzel. The "relative to what?" question was coming up more and more often. With a growing roar in the background we were realizing that we had only gained 500 feet in the whole day so far even though we had been going up and down all the time. Relative to what? We were about to find out.
We turned one corner and came out of the woods. Depot Creek falls can't really be described. You can't get a photo of the whole thing as you come in on the bottom fourth and it curves away out of sight above you. All I can say is that it is spectacular and has been described in several sites I have seen as "the unforgettable waterfall." I would say they have that right. The guides all say that we are going to climb beside the fall and the repetition of the phrase "You have got to be F&%$ing KIDDING me!" began. This was a phrase which was repeated for several hours with regularity. But first we had to deal with "the rock".
There is an accurate descripton of the boulder that needs to be scaled to get to the falls. Unfortunately we didn't re-read that description which mentioned there are some steps cut in on the left side. It did say that there may be a line there and there was. SORT OF. While we did have a good climbing rope with us, there was just a crappy old cargo strap hanging off this rock with a bunch of knots in it. Having had these break when supposedly supporting motorcycles in pickup trucks I was wary since this one was generally living under water and we had no idea how old it might be. Being the lightest it only made PERFECT sense for me to be the one to use it in my best Batman climbing up the side of a building method. All the time I waited for it to break and have me become part of Depot Creek falls. It didn't and I topped the boulder just in time for the guys to notice the other route with the steps. Yeah!!!
I was just happy to be alive so struck this dashing pose. Sorry all you drooling ladies, I am quite taken and happy about it (sound of hearts breaking everywhere)
John was kind enough to scramble up the next bit of flat rock section and toss a rope down making that part a lot less scary.
Again, the magnitude and full altitude gain of these falls can't be appreciated unless you are there and they really are unforgettable. Here are a few photos of the falls.
This is when the trail got a little trickier and we suddenly understood why the first part could conceivably be considered flat and uninteresting. First of all it was steep. Walking steep in some areas like this (Sorry ladies, John is married too)
And some areas simply drag yourself up and collapse over and over like some cruel cosmic joke which just refuses to end steep.
There was one point where the other two took a wrong route up some steep, flat, wet rock just as I found the actual trail. In my haste to catch them I attempted to cross some mossy flat rock and quickly found myself sliding down the rock on my stomach desperately trying to get fingernails to actually penetrate solid rock so that I might not disappear into the oblivion which was the pounding spray below. My water bottle slipped out and I cringed as I watched it bounce and pound its way to shatter on the rocks many hundred feet below. That over, the other two came down to me and Greg basically repeated the performance a little higher. There were a lot of 'what the hell are we doing here?'
Paul Klenke describes this part as "with some grunts and groans, make your way up the east side of the falls". He neglected to mention the swearing and crying. John laid down and begged for the bears - which we had been intentionally making much noise to keep away- to come and end his misery.
I am not particularly strong or fit but one thing people who know me can tell you is that I am stubborn and determined. I have always been able to keep going after something firmly fixed in my mind and at that moment all that mattered to me was getting to the top of this ~1800' stroll by the falls. I pulled out ahead but only through mental drive as the physical ability had been left back on the first boulder. It was somewhere in here where I think I damaged myself. In the muscles there are both fast twitch and slow twitch fibers. The slow twitch ones are engaged much more often and give the strength. The fast twitch ones give, as it sounds, the quick drives and. very important, the support in eccentric muscle use such as when we are going down steps. At some point I drove upward really hard and didn't really feel it. I got to the top feeling elated but the result would rear its ugly head the next day.
The view from the top was amazing and we couldn't even see as far back as from where we had come.
Looking in the direction we were going was even more exciting.
At this point the route to Mt Rahm was several ridges and corners out of sight but it didn't matter, we were elated and just knew we were going to make Lake Ouzel even after our longer than planned trip and late start.
It seemed all was well. My willpower had been completely used up and my body was shot. The other two seemed to have paced it better and my right knee was curiously weak. No matter we had two miles and two hours of daylight. A simple trot through forest and meadow and we would be there.
Unfortunately it ended when we came out of the forest onto the rocks. This had been described as difficult but these rocks were smaller, rounded, unstable and our legs were shot. I really felt like this was equal to walking on a field of bowling balls and each step was carefully placed.
I was watching the GPS and our speed had dropped off the scale and ETA had turned to never. It was hard to believe but less than two miles from Lake Ouzel we knew it was mathematically impossible to make it by dark and the number of times my ankle twisted over because there was just not the strength to stabilize it was really worrying me. Breaking a leg here wasn't my idea of how I wanted to spend my birthday. I literally collapsed at one point and Greg found a small clearing to set up camp.
We ate and slept well. Greg had his fancy mini tent.
while we slept in my overweight monster.
We woke up and the two of them were sure they had heard an animal outside checking us out. We found some "kitty" tracks in the sand later.
After a morning toast to my 50th we wandered a little further only to come to the disappointing conclusion that we couldn't make up the shortfall to the planned base camp and still make the mountain.
This was one of the more disappointing moments in my life but as I looked around and took it all in I began to understand how ill prepared we were for the magnitude and power of the area. We went through a lot of "what if's" and know that lighter packing (Greg would have pushed for that), better physical condition (we all could use that), and getting started earlier (something I was antsy about as soon as we woke up) we would have made it. I was yet to find out about my leg.
Here are some general photos from camp. They do not BEGIN to do justice.
With regret and happiness we started down. I found that each step produced agonizing pain in the upper right leg but only when going down any slope. It really wasn't as much of a problem on the falls section as I developed a goofy butt sliding technique which works wonders on your jeans and pack bottom. We were able to rope lower things off the slippery rocks and in most sections it was a LOT easier going down than up.
Somewhere before the flat and uninteresting trail my leg really started to fail. We fashioned a makshift brace from rags and tape. Greg wasn't happy with the photo of me scowling so we present this bit of charm.
Over time my leg got worse as more tearing occured and John and Greg ended the journey emptying my pack completely into theirs which, I think, was better for them than having to carry me. The upside was that I got to use Greg's fancy walking sticks but I still got blisters.
With that beautiful photo I will leave you. We made it out to the vehicle which was thankfully there and willing to start. I learned a lot. We had fun. We didn't even see the mountain we intended to climb but I maintain that it only won the first round. The mountain was named for my father and I thought my 50th was a significant date to climb it but, since that didn't work, August 2 , 2006 is the 30th anniversary of when I lost him so that will be the plan for round two. Don't plan now because I have my short list of people invited. I would love to have John and Greg go with me again, I want to have my brother Brian be able to make it then, and I want to extend the invitation to Paul Klenke and Lowell Skoog. I'll decide what to do with them when we get back.
I told my wife that when I get this one under my belt it will be my FIRST mountain climb. She groaned.
Well a year went by, Training was done and another attempt was made. See the results here.