Strangely enough, I could not find an REI climbing trip up Mt. Whitney, the highest California mountain that has been the only mountain that I could not summit. So I booked a trip to climb Mt. Shasta instead. My parents and former high school mountaineering instructor had told me stories of climbing Mt. Shasta scores of years ago. This mountain intrigued me, but never really beckoned to me like Mt. Whitney. Now it was this mountain's turn to try to turn me back with its fiercely high altitudes, unique weather systems, and snowy glaciers.
Training was a challenge. I have arthritis in the arch of my foot now. I didn't have that when I climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro. Running 3 and 6 miles each week was out of the question, so I racked my brain to figure out how to get weight onto my legs and my heart rate to run high for prolonged periods. Rollerblading was my solution.
Rollerblading is low impact as long as there aren't any falls. The new brake system of the rollerblades versus rollerskates doesn't make sense to me. When I started rollerblading, I'd just run into nearby grass to stop. Later I developed grabbing the poles with the buttons to cross the street to stop while I waited for my turn to cross. I actually only had one bad spill, but I softened my fall by grabbing the sign with the neighborhood's walking trail map on it. The sign left a bruise on my forearm, but I didn't get hurt otherwise.
So I raced down the long, flat roads of Gold River, CA building up to 8 miles an hour for an hour a few times a week. The plastic boot of the rollerblade held my arthritic foot solidly in place like a cast, so I wasn't restricted by my foot. The lateral movements to propel myself built up my hip muscles which I'd need for stabilizing a 45 pound backpack in uneven and windy terrain. The only issue my body had with that training was a little knee pain in one knee.
Other ways I'd train was biking 22 miles along the American River bike trail to Lake Folsom and back. It had hills, lots of people, beautiful scenery, and no cars. Any stairs that I climbed I double stepped to build my climbing muscles. I packed my new backpack a few weeks early and added a few heavy books as my back and hips became accustomed to carrying weight while I hiked.
Unfortunately, my summer hiking boots weren't supportive enough for my arthritic foot, so I'd have to massage my foot with Aspercreme afterwards. Each time that I'd hike 7 miles with my backpack, however, my foot hurt more. My hopes of climbing any mountain again started to fade, but I remembered the stiff plastic boots that I used for ice climbing in Alaska and hoped that the rental double plastic boots would freeze my foot inplace like a cast, too. Then my arthritic foot would be out of the equation. Fortunately, the rental double plastic boots with crampons were like casts. My foot never was an issue during my mountain experience.
Mountains have a way of giving us a hard reset, so we can understand ourselves better and what's important in this world. If we're listening, we might even hear God during the silence of mechanisms while we journey to the summit. Climbing high mountains is a tried and true path to inner revelation.
Climbing mountains also is a mental challenge. Can we keep our thoughts focused on the summit and away from the hours and hours of toil, effort, pain, and nagging fatigue? Can we overcome the voice that tells us to give up---that this is a ludicrous act?
Trepidation filled me as I packed my backpack over again in the Cold Creek Inn hotel room the night before. Would I be able to find everything in a new backpack when I needed it? Would I be the slowest climber? Would I be left behind during the summit attempt? Would I get altitude sickness? Would my body let me down?
The Diamox that I took three times a day for a few days before my climb kept making my throat almost swell shut. It also made soda taste awful! I hoped that the swelling throat side effect would stop once I got on the mountain. Fortunately, it did. Other climbers told me that Diamox makes all carbonated drinks taste awful, so that reassured me that my body was reacting normally to this altitude sickness drug.
When the morning arrived where we met our climbing group, I was still filled with trepidation. I coached myself, "It's the journey that's important. It's better to try and fail, then to never have tried at all." Then I walked out to the group of highly fit people---mostly men and four women.
Our guides had us empty out our backpacks in the Cold Creek Inn parking lot. I knew that good guides would do this. They were responsible for our well being and our success. They needed to rid us of useless weight and make sure that we had appropriate gear for snow camping and high altitude exposures. Amazingly enough, they took out a pile of my clothing. I was thrilled at losing more weight.
Backpack weight reduction was a major priority to me. I'd tried desperately to reduce the backpack's weight on my own, knowing that I had to keep it at or under a third of my body weight---43 pounds. My 49-year-old body just couldn't handle more than that anymore. I even purchased airline plastic containers and only took two days of toiletries. Neutrogena had facial wipes for cleaning my face at night and in the morning, and I used panty liners to keep my underwear clean.
Food weight was a huge concern, too. I studied all the sports bars and picked the ones with the most nutrition and calories, and least weight. Cliff, Luna, and Power bars were the winners. Eating tasty food wasn't the plan. Eating calories constantly to make it to the summit was the plan. I did have dried mangos and Lindt and Hersheys chocolate bars which were my small bit of tasty heaven for three days.
After we repacked our backpacks, our four guides split us up into two groups of 8. All the women and men older than 30 were in our group. The manly, young bucks were in the other group. That worked for all of us. Going at a pace that's too fast leads to defeat. Mt. Shasta requires us to know how to be at our best to be able to reach her summit, especially when raw, youthful health has long passed us by.
P.S. To my blog readers: If you want to support a struggling math/engineering teacher and author, please buy my first book, "The Romance of Kilimanjaro," soon to be followed by my second book at: https://www.tatepublishing.com/bookstore/book.php?w=9781613464960 Thank You!
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