Jenni in trouble, no man's land, not an experience we want to repeat...for a while.
Steeper and steeper with little gripping power.
A dramatic title? Perhaps. However, we suppose you had to be there. We try to maintain the
integrity of the blog even though Mom might read it on one of her slow days. When we find ourselves
in dangerous situations, it behooves us to keep the blog accurate whether we are feeling foolish or
even a little brave. The Republic is 237 years old today and still going through growing pains.
We remember when it was about individual effort and initiative rather than hope. We are somewhat
younger but enjoyed another of what we term ‘growth experiences’, today. The latter term is a box in which
we place difficult, frustrating and challenging situations. More about it later.
We feel a little embarrassed complaining about the heat these last few days, something we picked up
from the locals. What do they say? When in Washington, do as the…. It was only yesterday we made a
request for cooler weather. Lo and behold, it was considerably cooler today. We like that. No, we
don’t mean our influence over the weather but rather variation. In fact, one of the great aspects
of hike-about is variety, a struggle against routine.
Directional pointer, indicating where editor should head.
Jenni makes the climb.
We don’t think the snow will ever melt in Mount Rainier National Park. Not that we have a
clue but it sure looks that way. We set off from Reflections Lake and headed up towards Pinnacle Peak.
From the beginning, it was clear that although there is a trail, we would not be using it—completely
under snow. Our editor, either, through great wisdom or fear of becoming lost, used her hiking pole
to make a trail in the snow. In another show of brilliance, she carries ‘pink slips’ with her, the
positive kind. We have termed it the poor man’s GPS or the Lazarow’s JPS (Jenni’s Pink Slips).
Every now and again, she ties one to a tree hoping we’ll find it on our way back. We hope very hard.
GPS versus JPS (Jenni's Pink Slips) or the poor man's GPS.
Hidden danger when approaching from above.
Unfortunately, we were without ice axes, something that is useful to have when facing near
vertical climbs and we suppose, grizzlies, too. We decided should the going get rough, we would
of course, turn around. Of course. When it did get tough, we forgot all about the earlier decision.
It seems as we age, our short–term memories fade. Just one more vertical hill, maybe only this one
left and this should be it for the day. By that stage, we were in trouble. The way up was impossibly
steep and down was frightening, not to mention slippery. What to do. We looked at our editor trailing
below and felt embarrassment to have placed her in such a predicament. Both of us were staring fear
in the eye and using the other eye to seek a helicopter. At times like these, we are learning to manage
the emotions, to suppress them…real hard.
The sun breaks through for a few seconds.
Homeward bound, this steep slope seems easy after the earlier experiences.
A devastating blow was when our dear editor asked, “If I lose balance and fall down the slope, how
should I try stop?” With the stiff upper lip, we looked down the slope and could not provide an answer.
We also realized for the umpteenth time what a courageous woman she is. It was Clive Midgen who
mentioned the other day that Jenni is petite, (he didn’t say old), yet she manages to get to incredibly
difficult places. The physical aspect is important, but the spirit and heart carries a person.
After arriving at the crest of the monster before us, we inched our way down carefully. It was
a slow and precarious time. By the stage we reached slopes that had seemed formidable previously,
suddenly they were much easier. We suppose that’s a result of ‘pushing the envelope’.
Part-way up, a tiny view of Reflection Lake and the back mountains.
With a few hundred feet to the end, feeling relieved and elevated, we stepped on snow that had
no foundation. Our left leg sunk into a hole completely as our right hip took a jolt that sent
us into outer-space. In a split second, we went from walking upright to lying with one leg deep
in snow, face and body on the snow surface and the thought that our life could forever change.
It only takes one-step, one bad move out of millions to change a life. Fortunately, we were only
a little shaken, not stirred.
Climbing out of the hole after being flat on the face and assuring editor that we are
still in working order.
What an experience. B’H.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
A little perspective although slope not captured adequately
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