RMI Expeditions Blog

The Four Day Climb teams June 29 - 2 July led by RMI Guides Dustin Wittmier & George Hedreen reached the summit of Mt. Rainier today after 6 am.  The teams enjoyed some time in the crater, crossing to the true summit, before beginning their descent from the crater rim.  The teams will return to Camp Muir for a short break before continuing down to Paradise later today.  They will conclude their program with a short ceremony later today.

Nice work team!

The Expedition Skills Seminar Team stood on the summit of Mount Rainier yesterday morning. Over the past week, the team has been honing their expedition mountaineering skills through glacier travel, route finding, and crevasse rescue training on the slopes of the Emmons Glacier. Their dedication and hard work helped them develop into a strong, capable, and successful team. This morning, they packed up camp and began their descent. They are expected to return to Ashford Basecamp this afternoon.

Congratulations Team! 

RMI Guides Jess Wedel and Joe Crawford led their teams to the summit of Mt. Rainier this morning, reaching the crater rim just after 7 am.  Jess said it was a perfect day on the mountain with a slight breeze.  Once they enjoy a bit of time on the summit, they will descend to Camp Muir, take a short break and then continue down to Paradise.  Their program will conclude this afternoon at Rainier BaseCamp.

Congratulations to today's climbers! 

Tuesday, June 30, 2026 - 9:16 am PT

Still at 14,000. We were hoping for slightly more encouraging weather up high this morning but there was a ragged cloud cap on the upper mountain through midday. A move up high didn’t look to be impossible, but it certainly would have been tougher in the weather. We opted for plan B, a rest and recuperation day at 14K. Eventually the sun came out and life was easy. We sorted gear and tried to cut down on the pounds that we’ll carry up to high camp. Everybody caught up on hydration and reading. Tomorrow is our day for moving up.

RMI Guide Dave Hahn

Tuesday, June 30, 2026 - 9:37 pm PT

Hey daily blog readers,

For whoever you are reading this blog for… well now is the time to call them. Ring them. Yes now. 

They have a story for you. 

Thanks for following along ✌️

That’s a wrap. 

❤️

RMI Climber Devon Levesque

After several days of poor weather and high winds, the Four Day Climb June 27 -30 led by RMI Guides Seth Burns, Ben Thorneycroft and Tom Skoog reached the summit of Mt. Rainier today.  They reported a beautiful day on the mountain with the cloud deck below them around 7,500'.  The teams were walking into the crater shortly after 7 am.  Once they spend a little time there, they will begin their descent to Camp Muir and then continue down to Paradise later today.

Congratulations to today's climbers!

Monday, June 29, 2026 - 10:39 pm

A big step forward today! We made our carry up on to the West Buttress at 16,200ft. The morning at 14K was calm, we were in and out of the clouds and snow, but it was clear above so we went for it. We started up just as the sun came around the South Peak, moderating the cold temps. The first hills were familiar, of course, but this time we could actually see where we were, so that helped. It was exciting to finally get on the fixed rope section and do some steep climbing. The team did quite well and we topped out about 3.5 hrs after leaving camp. There was a little breeze on the ridge, but it was delightfully calm where we stopped to cache our supplies. The descent was in clouds and falling snow again, but we were pointed in the correct direction for such conditions. Back in camp we rested and prepared to move to high camp.

RMI Guide Dave Hahn

The four-day climb led by RMI guide Dominic Cifelli attempted their summit of Mt Rainier last night. They turned around at the top of the Disappointment Cleaver due to high winds. 

Nice work up there!

The five-day climb led by RMI guide Ray Holt used their second night at Camp Muir to attempt to summit Mt Rainier. Due to high winds, they turned around at the top of the Disappointment Cleaver. 

Great effort everyone!

Sunday, June 28 - 9:15PM PST

Sleep came easily for most of us last night. What had been a few hours at 17 was closer to 10 at 14, and we rolled like cats in the sun when Ben called us to breakfast at a leisurely 9am.

Rations have run low, and breakfast burritos are a distant memory. Faced with the choice between granola, oatmeal, and mountain house meals we swore to never eat again we chose freeze-dried, splitting biscuits and gravy and a breakfast scramble.

Kitchens are gathering places the world round, and here is no different. We lingered around the warm stoves and laughed about memories from the summit.

Soon it was noon and we gathered all of our remaining rations for a picnic lunch. Some were down to shredded pop tarts, others *cough Jimmy* still had ten pounds of food to spare. We traded, tasted, and Mike hoarded pounds of candy for the hopeful hike out.

Then games, music, movies and laughs as the snow gently drifted through the tent door. Ben told us the hope is to hike out through the night, but we’ll have to see about the weather.

That uncertainty has become the mark of this mountain and our trip.

There were a half dozen times as we pushed to the summit that Ben almost turned around. Avalanche risks were a-plenty, even 150 feet from the summit. If we did turn, that would have been the right decision.

So we could hike out tonight, or tomorrow. There may be more avalanche risk, or there may not. Our bodies could feel strong, or weak. The winds may be calm, or pick up. The glacier could be frozen when we cross overnight, or it may have cracks that add hours to rain at the airfield until the clouds clear.

This could be our last day eating gas station food, or it may be longer than that. As I turn 40 this year that’s the thing I keep thinking about - delays.

Many of us fashion our lives to take the straight line from this to that. We’re at 14 camp and thinking about Talkeetna. I often want to be someplace other than here.

The lesson I’m being invited to learn is that all of life is here in front of me. What’s more, the interruptions and detours are not only the spice but the substance of life.

(Please know - there is also tragedy, suffering, and injustice unequally distributed in the world. Those things aren’t fair and shouldn’t be wished on anyone).

But I do wish bad weather, on me and on you. That’s what refines our character, holds us still while our roots grow deep, and leads us from comfort to greater adventure. It can’t always be sunny out, we equally need the night.

I guess what I’m saying is that, while I need a summit (or airfield) as a heading, I want my heart to be where my feet are, especially when it’s not what I would have chosen.

That's the only way I would have learned that crampons can be trusted on ice. It’s how, as a 100-degree-Texan, I learned that life in the snow isn’t what I feared and that cloud cover keeps us warm. As an only-child and introvert, I learned that I can live in a tent the size of an elevator with two grown men for 20 days.

We should celebrate when life goes well and smoothly (like our first week here). And when our flight’s canceled, business slows, relationship ends, or we feel adrift I hope to remember that the interruptions, storms, and false summits have a gift that I wouldn’t find any other way That’s doubly true when you have a friend, sibling, spouse, climbing partner, or fellow guide to find the mystery in the moment.

I’m excited to get home, and grateful it will take a few more days than we expected.

— —

I woke up early this morning after the first good sleep in a few nights and the frost-coating on the tent wall fell over our boots and sleeping pads as I eased into the crisp morning air.

Yesterday, we awoke fitfully at 17 after summit day, and almost universally felt ill. There was nausea, headaches, loss of appetite, aching muscles, raspy coughs, and - equally - a cheerful determination to start our hike home.

So, in parkas and mittens we forced down oatmeal, packed tents, and turned our faces towards the gentle snowfall. Dear reader, the hike to 14 is no joke. We first navigate the west buttress ridge, affixed with running belay to hold us to the mountain while tap dancing over narrow ledges and frozen shelves. Our intrepid guides make the ropes short, then long. They go ahead, then follow behind - all to ensure our safety where a misstep has 1,000 foot consequences. “Anchor,” “climbing,” became our mantra and our prayer.

Then we’re at the fixed lines, a long stretch of carefully secured rope for steep terrain. On the way up, we use a tool that holds us securely. On the way down, you wrap your arm around the rope, step carefully, and hope for the best.

 - RMI Guide Hudson