Camp Muir

Thirty-five years ago I completed my most demanding hiking adventure when we reached Camp Muir at the 10,000ft level of Mt. Rainier in Washington State. It’s not a climb, but rather a steep, exhausting hike across a massive ice cream cone-like snow field, and it’s where most climbing parties spend the night before assaulting the summit.

This picture is borrowed from the Internet, as mine are all on slides.

As we rested, we ate lunch, took pictures and marveled at the view…looking down on drifting clouds and the awesome volcanic peaks of the Cascade Range. You could see almost to California.

To the rugged, experienced mountaineer, Camp Muir is nothing more than a freeway rest stop before the real climb to the summit, but to someone raised on the prairies, it’s pretty damned impressive! We had reached our objective after six hours of slipping and sliding in the sun-softening, icy snow, lugging 50lb packs. As we wheezed our way upward in the thinning air, stopping every few steps to recharge our lungs, thoughts of turning back nearly overcame the desire to accomplish our goal, but we persevered.     

Yesterday I experienced thoughts similar to those I had that day on the mountain. Due to slow progress, it’s been difficult to maintain interest in reawakening my Plymouth, and I often considered giving up. Too often I’d find myself sitting in the chair nursing a cup of coffee, and just looking at what had yet to be done, but after seeing the rear glass and windshield installed I know that it’s now mostly downhill. While there are still problems to resolve and hours of tedium to fight, most of the remaining work consists of bolting existing parts and pieces together.  I don’t know if I can retain my enthusiasm once the winter winds begin to blow, but for now, just as I did that day at Camp Muir, I’m going to enjoy the view and pat myself on the back for having reached a mini-summit of sorts.

Pictures of the glass installed to follow.