Peak Experiences

When I suddenly woke with a snappy June breeze blowing in my face, I realized that sleep had overtaken me at 9,000 feet elevation during a brief pause in my ascent of Mount Rainier. Continuing my trudge up Muir Snowfield on the southeast side of the mountain, I labored to reach the base camp of this noble peak of the American northwest. I simply focused on the fact that many climbers had trod this path before me, and with God¹s strength, I would triumph too. After all, 1999 marks the 100th anniversary of the national park, and I could not forgo a victorious ascent on the eve of this event.

From sub-tropic like forests at the bottom of the volcanic dome to harsh weather at the top that rivals the bitter elements on Mount McKinley in Alaska, Mount Rainier provides a variety of spectacles and challenges that have helped it become an all-American favorite among climbers of all abilities. Towering 14,411 feet so near the sea, Rainier triggers gasps of awe and presents an astounding prominence when viewed from the Puget Sound area near Seattle, Washington. Conversely, the top of this breathtaking behemoth bequeaths any successful climber a 360-degree panorama of Seattle and the Pacific Ocean to the West, a half dozen other major volcanic peaks that appear within grasp to the South, the lush glacier-clad Cascade mountains to the North, and the fruitful Yakima Valley along with the blending of mountains and thirsty desert-like climates to the East. The awe inspiring vistas fill one¹s heart with so much joy and praise that all Creation can call out, ³Sing, O heavens, for the Lord has done it! Shout, you lower parts of the earth; break forth into singing, you mountains, O forest, and every tree that is in it! . . .² (Isaiah 44:23).

My first destination was one mile in front of me. The base camp goal seemed as though it would take a month to reach instead of the usual five hours for a five mile stretch. The trek climbs about 5,000 feet up the foot of the mountain from Paradise Lodge. I began my solo climb toward the base camp at 7:00 p.m. in order to take advantage of walking on the firm snow in the chill of the night. My progress was painfully slow, however, and after spending the last part of the night sitting and resting against my 85-pound pack, I decided to eat a cup of hot black bean soup and push on with the light of the early sun while holding on to the promise, ³No one will be weary or stumble among them, . . .² (Isaiah 5:27).

Thoughts encouraged me toward my mark as I pondered the reward of lying on an air filled pad with no pack on my back. I needed to rest my legs that were weary from stumbling over snow clumps that had frozen as temperatures dropped during the night. Just catching a glimpse of the sun breaking over the jagged peaks in the distance started to warm my soul and thaw my hands that had become numb in the frigid darkness. The stillness of the morning was broken by my labored gulps of the icy air and punctuated with delightful chirps from a small bird making its summer home high on the mountain. My mind was splashed with a wake-up call that if Jesus watches over the small birds on this peak, I must be in safe hands, ³Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father¹s will . . . Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows² (Matthew 10:29-31).

Waking up after a late morning slumber in my tent at Base Camp Muir, I poked my head out of the door and watched as climbers descended off the mountain from their predawn summit ascent. I caught sight of a rock and ice slide hurling a couple hundred feet down a steep cliff in the distance. Listening to the thunder of rocks and ice crashing down the slope drew my mind to the Bible text, ³Who can stand before His indignation? And who can endure the fierceness of His anger? His fury is poured out like fire, and the rocks are thrown down by Him² (Nahum 1:6).

Emmons Glacier, named for Samuel Franklin Emmons, spreads two miles wide and is six miles long covering a large swatch on the east side of the mountain. Staring into a crevasse that could devour a house in one gulp, I shuttered at the thought of airplanes going down over Rainier and people disappearing without a trace. Suddenly Numbers 16:30, ³And the earth opens its mouth and swallows them up with all that belongs to them, and they go down alive into the pit, . . . ,² had new meaning to me. Listening closely, I could hear some grinding and crunching as the massive ice field made unhurried progress down its glacial path. With a downward skid of 7,000 feet or so, the glacier became an ominous river of moving ice and rock debris.

Clothed with 41 glaciers that vary in size and shape, Rainier hosts the headwaters of five major river systems­the Carbon, the Puyallup, the White, the Nisqually, and the Cowlitz­that provide a life-giving source of power and water (before making their way to the Pacific Ocean) for many homes and businesses. But these icy sources of the water of life can also set the stage for a perilous adventure for anyone who treads the slippery slopes. In fact, the chain of events that followed underscored to me the wonder of God¹s providential and protective hand.

After circumstances precluded my photographing the ascent of Rainier by a paraplegic climber, I lay in my tent frustrated and exhausted after all of the preparation, planning, and effort it took to get this far. I would not be reaching the summit this time, and I accepted the situation as God¹s will not knowing that in a couple of days the mountain would snatch the life of yet another mountain climber. Man grapples with techniques to conquer the power of nature, but his struggles are feeble attempts compared to the power of the Creator, for ³. . . God is greater than man² (Job 33:12). Later my heart filled with gratitude as I reflected on the promises that God knows the end from the beginning, and His ways, timing, and providence are for the eternal well-being of His children. His Spirit had softened my heart enough to know that I was not to push for the top with all of the risks involved.

With my journey falling short of the summit, God placed me in a position to enjoy a host of other natural wonders throughout the national park. There are a number of outings that are easily accessible to those who visit this monument of the northwest, and these adventures can actually provide some exhilarating peak experiences (even though they are below the summit of Rainier). Mount Rainier National Park, located 70 miles from Seattle, draws a large number of city people to its 235,612 acres (378 square miles) with 300 miles of hiking trails crisscrossing the park. Wonderland trail, encompassing the mountain with 93 miles of pristine scenes, takes from 10 to 14 days to complete if the trail is without snow. On the eastern edge of the park lays a portion of the Pacific Crest Trail¹s Canada to Mexico traverse. In 1899 the U.S. Government set this land aside to preserve the area for future generations to enjoy. With more and more visitors each year, however, the responsibility falls on individuals to help in the preservation of the park.

Rivaling the Olympic National Park for waterfalls, Mount Rainier boasts an array of vibrant, thundering cascades plus trickles of snowy runoff that play tunes to visitors as they stand and watch the water tumbling over cliffs and rocks. A hearty six mile jaunt to Comet Falls rewards hikers with a 320-foot spectacle as Van Trump Creek makes a splashing display that will be remembered for life. Comet Falls is one of the most spectacular, but Fairy Falls, leaping 700 feet over the edge of Stevens Canyon, tops out as the highest waterfall in the park and fifth highest in the United States. Narada Falls nearly always attracts me when I visit the park. I can spend hours standing before it, and as the light comes and goes, various rainbows appear. To the inattentive eye, the colors are just an orderly bar of refracted light across the falls, but Scripture tells us, ³I set My rainbow in the cloud, and it shall be for the sign of the covenant between Me and the earth² (Genesis 9:13). When examining the wonder of the multicolored arches, I can see a clearer picture of part of God¹s character with its full spectrum of beauty and love. Taking one last look at Narada, I pondered the parallel in Revelation 4:3, ³. . . and there was a rainbow around about the throne . . .² Could this display in nature be a small glimpse of what to expect in the new earth?

After a nourishing picnic lunch one day, my family and I headed for an easy two mile stroll through the Grove of the Patriarchs. This natural wonder is a delight to all age groups as they pass by some conifers that reach over 300 feet tall with a circumference of 25 feet. This virgin stand of old-growth trees (ranging from 800 to 1,000 years old) contains Douglas fir, Western red cedar, and the Western hemlock. It earns respect from any observer and a seemingly appropriate ovation for the Creator¹s handiwork from the surrounding vegetation where ³. . . the mountains and the hills shall break forth into singing before you, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands² (Isaiah 55:12). Keeping our eyes in tune with the scenery off the trail, we spotted many types of fungi growing along the path. Sneaking down to the river, I peeked through the vine maples and saw a mother duck with babies floating by­just another added treat from the One who made our first home surrounded by nature.

Driving west, I stopped to take a peak at Box Canyon (which has a wooden fence so no one will accidentally misstep and tumble 180 feet to the bottom). Gazing at this odd scene in front of me, I have to ask how it got here. Is it from Noah¹s flood, or did it happen more recently during the changes of Rainier¹s life? With no readily clear explanation, I turned my attention to the plant life that grasps for any tiny nook or crack to take root. The plants¹ tedious attempt at life will be sustained by the mist rising from the Muddy Fork Cowlitz flowing at the bottom of the canyon. I can¹t help but be admonished once again by Psalm 26:7, ³that I may proclaim with the voice of thanksgiving, and tell of all your wondrous works.²

Another delight is the abundant wildlife in the national park. Sitting guard in a valley shadowed by the mountain, a marmot calls out a warning to its co-inhabitants of the area as some friends and I trod into its domain late in the summer. Mountain goats are also common along the trail to Burroughs Mountain that begins at the Sunrise Visitor Center. Hiking along that trail, we spot a group of 12 goats and took time to watch their interactions (supping on mountain grasses with sure-footed kids romping close by) before resuming our trek. Many species of birds provide an aerial display to augment the circus like animal activity.

Splashes of springtime color on Mount Rainier come when many are thinking of what they plan to do for the fourth of July holiday. Wildflowers start to poke their heads out of the moist, dark soil at the higher elevations as the melting snow recedes. The blossoms weave low hovering blankets of color over the meadows like swipes from a painter¹s brush. As spring progresses, life emerges with joy as mountain jays sing lighthearted songs and chipmunks scurry for fresh food.

All this beauty is short-lived, however, as early frosts set leafy vegetation ablaze in lavish oranges, reds, and golds vibrating from the vine maple and other plant life. With an early snowstorm reminding the wildlife of the short harvesting season, they scurry to gather their winter stash and soak up the last warming rays of fall if the weather breaks.

In the fall I hiked with a clear blue sky above me and enjoyed the warm September day, but I sensed the mountain was uneasy and was making its own weather­as if this volcano lived by its own set of rules. Looking up, I realized clouds were starting to make their way around the mountain; then, as if a giant hand took hold of them to draw a curtain, the gray billows shrouded the mountain from the view of the world. With rain starting to fall, I headed back down the trail to the car with a heart full of a season of peak experiences­those memorable events that could indeed be gathered below the summit of this towering giant. Just because we may not scale the highest peaks does not mean our journey must be void of mountaintop delights.

So take the first step on your journey into this natural wonder of the Northwest and drink in the lessons God has provided all His children. Soon the snow will blanket the vegetation for a long winter¹s nap, and you won¹t have a chance to pursue these opportunities until the spring thaw comes.

Rainier has provided its stunning display of natural wonders for years, and its 100th birthday this year as a national park does not change its steady balance of life. People may propose a flurry of activity based on certain milestones and self-imposed measures of accomplishments, but there is an assuring peace that this monument of Creation stands as a testimony that the ways of God are ³. . . the same yesterday, today, and forever² (Hebrews 13:8).

George Waymire writes from Billings, Montana, where he spends much of his time on free-lance photography assignments out in God¹s creation.