• no cotton-forget it, doesn't dry
• hot water bottle at night in sleeping bag for warmth
• plenty of bungie cords and straps; ski pole for hiking w/pack
• LOTS of plastic bags, sandwich size to garbage bags
• little things like Italian parsley, crushed almonds, dried pineapple & currants for garnishes-make meals really great; chocolate fondue with oranges

In the summer of 1991, I scribbled these and other "Trip Tips" onto folded sheets of paper and kept them in a ziplock bag in my pack. I was on my first "Woodswomen" excursion, a week-long, women-only mountaineering program on Mount Baker in the Cascade Mountains of Washington State, USA. I didn't know the other climbers or the guides, and I'd never climbed in the snow before. Now, when I open the shoebox in my closet and reread my journal, I know I learned more than mountaineering skills.

Day One: Up to the snow line with a heavy pack I'm on a ridge on Mount Baker (actually a volcano!) in the snow. I don't know if we're on the glacier yet. The views up here are clean and liberating.

I've been warm enough--feet a little cold, but ok. The hike was challenging, mostly because of HEAVY pack (60 pounds).I wonder how it will feel to take a shower when I get back home.

All this snow in the middle of July. The sun is going down, leaving its muted traces on soft, sand-sculpture clouds.

Day Two: Zero visibility

Today seemed very long but from dinner on, enjoyable. Five of us played hacky sack in a circle to stay warm. Big plastic snow-boots offer a large surface for hitting the sack, so I played well. It's been raining and misting for the past 24 hours, which drags me down. Visibility varied with the fog, but was never very good--maybe ten yards.

We're learning prussic. It's done with two specially tied ropes looped over a branch to raise or lower your body. It's all your own strength moving yourself through the air over steep terrain. I loved it. I want to do it in the park at home just because it's a kick. Amazing what you can do with a couple of ropes and some stamina.

Day Three: Snow skills
I seem to have the tent all to myself for a while. With a mug of chamomile tea at my side I'm a queen. Today was great: we hiked to a new spot, the sun came out, and we learned how to do self-arrest, a technique used for stopping your body from falling down the icy or snowy mountain in case you slip. That was as fun as sledding when I was a kid...till the moment the sun went behind clouds and the mountain air began to penetrate my polypropylene. When that happens I'm not so sure I like this trip. I get scared when I get cold. I wonder how cold and for how long I'll be cold.

The skills we've learned have seemed almost easy. Even climbing with rope teams today. We set a slow and steady pace just as I like it. Three teams of three people were connected with one line, helping each other feel safe. We didn't get onto the glacier, but we saw it up close-crevasses and all. My desire to summit is growing. Tomorrow night at midnight we go, weather permitting.

Day Four: Getting used to a new element
Why did I come on this trip? ("How cold and for how long?") I explained to Sheri that half of what's difficult here is feeling out of my element. When on an airplane, since I've flown a lot, I don't focus on how hot or cold it is; if the food is good or not; if I'm comfortable. Rather, I'm there for the ride and I enjoy the enjoyable parts and get off just fine. Even death: I think, "Well maybe I'll die on this plane, not much I can do about it."

So on a mountain, I think that once I'm used to being a little cold a lot of the time...sleeping on snow...wearing five layers...using the gear, and facing death, I think I'll love it.

When I take a moment to forget my bodily concerns, I see that it is beautiful. The ice is amazing on the glacier. The raw feeling of exposure -- nothing between you, the sky, rocks and water in one form or another. That's what I mean by exposure. Breathtaking. I'll question why I do these things (a trip like this) less, once I can see those God-things better, when this element doesn't seem so foreign and frightening.

I really wonder how people did this before high-tech equipment. It's hard enough today to deal with cold and wet. We've (re-)discovered that Gortex is a lie. Everything gets wet unless it's in a sealed plastic bag. Consequently, I am finally making peace with plastic in the world. Wow! Big avalanche sound, not far away!

After lunch I volunteered for kitchen cleanup. That is, I shoveled off the table top and then washed dishes in hot water -- the warmth on my hands was a highlight of the day.

Day Five: The glacier is alive
Woke up to sunshine! We can see the San Juan Islands in the Puget Sound, the town of Bellingham, Twin Sisters Peaks...flowers on the rocks. The main task of the morning was to get things dry. We're planning on summitting tomorrow (tonight)!!

We roped up, put on our crampons, and walked onto the glacier again today. I loved it! I love the team feeling, the slow, steady climb, the newfound understanding that we're on a living thing, and the meditativeness of it. We saw ravens very close. Sheri tries to call to them, but they seem to ignore us.

I am somehow not scared for tomorrow. To tell the truth, it doesn't seem that hard. I know it can be, if there's an accident or if the weather turns on us, but I am filled with hope.

Day Six: Summit!
12 Midnight
Starry skies. Cold temp. Get up, suit up, rope in. Drink hot tea and eat a handful of maple granola.

1:30 am
Depart base camp, 6000 feet. Walk through clouds; brief rests. Cold wind. Darkness covering peaks of rocks sometimes visible against snow fields. At 7700 feet by 3:30 am.

4:30 am
Sunrise. No more need for head lamps. Surrounding views emerge into our consciousness: jagged rock; crooked horizon curiously sinking lower. Steepness sets in, cold wind persists, next three hours. Sulfur smell at crater like at Olympic Hot Springs. One woman is sick from altitude. From here on up I need lots of quick stops on the rope to prevent hyperventilation.

7:30 am
Summit reached! 10,400 feet! Above the clouds, sunshine everywhere. The view is as if from an airplane window, only the window frame grew to infinity and there are no wings in the way. Every step of the climb I feel ALIVE; every single step! The last two hours of climbing were so steep it was like learning to walk again. I felt I could lean a foot forward and take a nap. I took baby steps upward, slowly, and persisted! (My ankles will soon be soup.) And the crevasses--deep and dark; perhaps the other side of a black hole in outer space. Images of the mountain and the sky burn in my eyes when I close them.

Such a fantastic high. I don't want to come down off of this one.

WOODSWOMAN, adventure travel for women of all ages, hosts dozens of domestic and international trips each year. Their main office is located at 25 West Diamond Lake Road, Minneapolis, MN, 55419-1926. You can call for information at (612) 822-3809 or 1-800-279-0555. FAX (612) 822-3814.

-- Liza Behrendt, Mountain Zone Pubster