There is a young man, a mountain climber, who has been missing on Mt. Adams the past two days. Leah, our friend Joelle, and I were on the mountain this past weekend with plans to climb, but events unfolded so that we became involved in the search for the lost climber. Today the three of us are back in Seattle and anxiously waiting for a call and for news from Yakima County Search and Rescue.
The phone just rang and I jumped to answer it.
GOOD NEWS! The climber was found last night, alive and well, after what sounds like an epic two days of being lost on the mountain. The Search and Rescue folks say the lost climber descended, then reascended the 12,276 foot peak, looking for a viable route. Leah and Joelle both had to go in to their offices to work today. I wish I could be there with them to see their joy when they hear the news that "our" climber is safe.
Here’s how it happened that the three of us became involved in something much more important than climbing a mountain...
Sunday we drove the nearly 300 miles to the base of Mt. Adams. What with stops at a Krispy Kreme for breakfast and a brewery in Hood River for lunch (donuts and beer: the Homer Simpson diet,) it was fairly late in the afternoon by the time we arrived at the Mt. Adams trailhead and shouldered overnight packs. We hiked for about three-and-a-half hours, gaining 3000 or 3500 feet, to a high camp at an elevation of around 8500 feet. It was windy and chilly and we griped a bit about how cold it was, since August is supposed to be nice here, fer-gawd-sake. We set up two tents (we don’t own a 3-man tent, so we had decided beforehand that we’d use two, 2-man tents.) Leah and Joelle climbed into one of the tents and began organizing food for dinner while I sat outside and fired-up our backpacker stove. We cooked and ate dinner and enjoyed an amazing sunset from our lofty perch. To the west of our campsite, Mt. St. Helens floated above the clouds and was puffing steam. South of us in Oregon, Mt Hood was behaving with a little less volcanic drama, but looked beautiful in her own right.
It got dark and we finished dinner. The three of us crossed our fingers, hoping for a night of clear skies. We’d heard that our night on the mountain should offer prime viewing of the Perseid meteor shower. We switched on headlamps and puttered around our tents. Looking up the slopes above us, I could see two climbers, also wearing headlamps, descending toward our camp site. I didn’t know it, but our weekend--and our plans to climb Mt. Adams--were about to change.
When the two climbers arrived at our tents, they asked if we had a cell phone (we did.) They explained that they needed to call for help, that, higher up the mountain, they’d become separated from a member of their climbing party . He was lost up there now in the dark. He had no overnight gear --the two fellows weren’t even sure their missing friend had a headlamp or flashlight. After the two young climbers used our phone to call 911, I knew it’d be foolish to go up the mountain, searching in the dark. I insisted the two climbers spend the night in our camp. We gave them hot food, and we told them to get into one of our tents. We also gave them a sleeping bag to zip open, blanket-style, and share. Leah, Joelle and I piled into the other tent.
Monday morning at 6 AM, a Search and Rescue specialist from Yakima County called my cell phone. His name was Mark and he said he was assembling a search crew to check the lower west slope of Mt. Adams, and was also sending a Mountain Rescue climber up toward our camp. I proposed to Mark that I ask the two climbers now in our camp to join Joelle and me, and the four of us would search the snow slopes above camp. Leah would stay in camp so that someone would be there to offer assistance, should the missing climber wind up there. Mark and I agreed to stay in touch via cell phone.
By Monday afternoon, we hadn’t had any luck finding the missing climber above our camp, and Mark’s search team was in position and at work. A search plane was also flying overhead. Because there was nothing more Leah, Joelle and I could do, the three of us packed up our tents and overnight gear and headed back down the mountain. Three hours later we reached the climbing trailhead, where we finally met Mark in person. After a day of cell phone conversations, it was good to connect a face with the voice. We also met the worried parents of one of the climbers. They’d come to the mountain to wait, and hope their presence would be some kind of support.
Apparently it wasn't long after we left the mountain that the missing climber was found. Some stories in life do have happy endings. Leah, Joelle and I are pleased that this is one of them.
