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The Five Day Summit Climb team turned at Ingraham Flats this morning due to high winds with strong gusts up to 50 MPH. RMI Guide Sid Pattison and team have spend two days on Mt. Rainier, during that time they have experienced some light snow fall and windy conditions. The team will be starting their descent from Camp Muir at around 9 am this morning and arrive here at RMI Basecamp early this afternoon. Congratulations to today's team!

June 26, 2016 - 12:13 am PT Hey, this is Tyler Reid with the Elbrus Ski Team checking in from summit. We had an absolutely perfect morning, weather is incredible, temperatures are nice and warm, there is not a cloud in the sky and almost zero wind. So the sun is nicely softening our snow surface and we are actually going to be able to ski right off the summit which is not always possible on this mountain. So we are super psyched for our decent here the best part is yet to come and we'll check in when we get back to our camp safe and sound. Alright, talk soon. RMI Guide Tyler Reid

On The Map

June 20, 2016 - 11:11 P.M. PDT Few things are as satisfying as watching a storm clear and being able to once again see the mountain you are trying to climb. Our stormy weather did just that, allowing us to do a rapid pack and move up to our 11,200 ft. camp. We spent the afternoon digging in and letting our tents dry out, and everyone is looking forward to a well deserved day of rest and acclimatization tomorrow. It was a stunningly beautiful evening up here, watching the clouds roll over Kahiltna Dome and streaks of solstice sunlight streak Mount Foraker. Fingers crossed for good weather to come. Love from, RMI Guide Mike Haugen and Team El Siete

On The Map

RMI Guide Billy Nugent and team reached the Mount Rainier summit before 7:00 a.m. The weather was already quite warm and calm winds. After spending some time on top, including the last stretch to Columbia Crest, the team began their descent at 8:25 a.m.

Our Four Day Summit Climb teams led by RMI Guides Brent Okita and Mike King reached the summit this morning around 7 am. The teams enjoyed clear skies and warm temperatures with some windy conditions. Both teams will descend to Camp Muir and then continue down to Paradise later this afternoon. Congratulations to today's Summit Climb Teams.

May 26, 2015 - 10:08 am PT Today is Memorial Day. With the simplicity of life on this mountain taking charge, many of us don't even know what day it is. The process of get up, get dressed in close quarters, make your way to the cook tent dug into the side of the mountain, eat breakfast, pack you bag and climb, come back to the tents, eat dinner and go to bed is a process where days don't matter. So if birthdays are missed, anniversaries are forgotten about, we are not to blame. Despite having digital doohickeys with us, looking at calendars and keeping track of days becomes arbitrary. Today as it turns out wasn't Memorial Day up here, it was Windy Corner day. This legendary gateway to the upper mountain is famous for its heinous wind, scary rock fall and tricky crevasses. We are happy to report our carry around the corner to 13,500 feet went as smooth as we could have asked for. Again we lucked out with weather because as I wrote earlier our early morning wake up calls got us going into clear skies but as soon as we arrived back in camp seven hours later it was snowing as hard as it has all trip. There is much to be said for walking into a camp that is waiting for you. We will rest tomorrow and eat pancakes and drink fresh coffee until nap time. We can't wait. Hello to Mrs. Vradenburg's class at Lamotte School I hope Liam is behaving. Stay tuned. RMI Guide Adam Knoff

On The Map

RMI Guide Casey Grom sent us some photos of their Cayambe summit. 100% of the team reached the top!!! The team is currently on their descent and will celebrate at the Chilcabamba Eco Lodge this evening. Stay tuned to hear from Casey as he recounts their summit day.

On The Map

I'm scared of Mount Everest. There, I said it. In fact, I'm scared of most mountains I climb, even ones like Rainier which I've climbed close to 90 times. But it's a fear which I embrace and welcome with each new climb. My fear began in 1984, when I watched Winds of Everest, a film about the first American ascent of Everest's North Side (incidentally, it was led by Lou Whittaker, and his son, Peter, climbed above 25,000 feet on the expedition). The opening narration by John Denver reads: In the eternal lives of mountains, the ambitions of men are as insignificant as the snow that swirls from their rocky ridges. The lives of man are transitory...the mountain is everlasting. It's a notion that has never been lost on me, a constant reminder that mountains do not forgive complacency, that any peak - no matter how familiar, no matter how many times you have climbed it - can be a deadly, dangerous place. Fear, in the mountain realm, is a good thing. I've been to Everest before. My first trip here was to the Northeast Ridge in 1999. This is my 6th expedition to Everest, my 8th to an 8,000 meter peak. I was able to sneak to the top of Everest by the Southeast Ridge in 2002, and the Northeast in 2003. In many ways, this is familiar turf, a comfortable stomping ground. One would think, then, that gearing up for our summit bid would be simple, devoid of much thought, anticipation, or trepidation about the days to come. But that is far from the case. We've all read the press reports that love to tout today's Everest as a "walk up," "a highway," and the like. Sure, the mountain today is not Hillary and Tenzing's Everest, or Whittaker and Gombu's. It's changed considerably over the years-a little physically and a lot in how it's climbed. However, the reality is that it's still 29,035 feet tall, there's no tram or escalator (yet), and to get to the top one must still put one foot in front of the other for 12,000 vertical feet above basecamp. As I prepare for our summit bid, that reality is never far from my mind. I gaze up at the Icefall looming immediately out of camp, and see its hazards. It was only a week ago that it claimed a life. Gotta be ready to move fast there, as always, but maybe even a bit faster this time. From there, the Western Cwm presents little danger - aside from oppressive heat at times - but I know its couple of miles of length can take a lot out of a climber, and I'll need to arrive at Camp 2 feeling strong - lots of mountain above that. The Lhotse Face - a couple thousand feet of steep snow and ice - is made more approachable with fixed lines, but still a place for caution. Falling rocks are one hazard, and simply missing a clip or taking a fall are other real hazards. No complacency there, I tell myself, remembering the climber who died in 2002. Climb strong, safe, and smart. From Camp 3, it gets more serious. Approaching 8,000 meters - the famed death zone - both the mind and the body suffer, and there's still a lot of mountain to climb. While I've been fortunate to always perform well up high, I never kid myself into believing it will be easy. A myriad of things can go wrong - a stomach bug, cold, infection - can all take you out of the running. Above Camp 3, we're in down suits, breathing oxygen; communication becomes more difficult, peripheral vision obscured. And ahead lie the Yellow Band and Geneva Spur...neither overly technical or challenging, but made at least interesting given their location. No mistakes here either. It's a long way down! Finally, the South Col, Camp 4, 26,000 feet. Not even a glimmer of relaxation here. We'll pull into the Col in early afternoon, brew up, lie down, and in a handful of hours begin walking again, in the dark, up the Triangle Face and toward the summit. It's a long day from the Col... perhaps 4 hours to the Balcony at 27,500 feet. Another 2 hours or so from there to the South Summit, 28,750 feet. And then it gets interesting: here's where things most often begin to unravel. From the South Summit lies the most exposed and technical terrain of summit day, if not of the entire climb. And there are bottlenecks: find yourself up there with a crowd, and you can wait for an hour or more to ascend the Hillary Step and get to the top. There's no passing lane; standing room only. But then you finally hit the top. Celebration! Elation! Congratulations! And then the realization that the top is only 1/2 way...there's still 12,000 feet of dangerous terrain between the top and bottom. No champagne yet, not until every team member - Nepalis and Westerners alike - are safely back at basecamp. Never let your guard down...the mountain doesn't care about your ambitions. Sure, I've climbed Everest before. I'll be with a strong team with ample experience. The weather looks reasonable. But, despite all that, I still have a lot of trepidation. I'm scared of Mount Everest...and I'm happy to be.

Whenever someone would ask me what my favorite mountain to climb was. I’d beat around the bush, answering in vague “it depends” that guides often use to avoid concrete answers in an ever changing arena. Nowadays, it’s Aconcagua. Something about the amalgamation of the people, the food, wine, expedition demands, and luxurious accompaniment makes me come down every year. It’s hard to describe, but in the theme of our early Gen Z style posts, it’s a vibe. You just have to come see it for yourself before you believe me. 

We set out today to summit said peak. “The Stone Sentinel” it’s commonly referred to. It was a breathtaking morning, altitude pun? Still, crisp air, the Milky Way painting the sky with a dull hint of moonlight. Excitement, nerves, anxiousness fill these summit mornings too as you watch fellow tents and teams gearing up to face the same hardships you will. A certain sense of camaraderie is palpable, even if that climber was yelling to their tent mate 2 ft away from them about juice or something.  

Our climb starts at 19,600ft and it certainly feels it as we switchback up toward Piedras Blancas, Independencia, and then onto the grand traverse. A bitter cold wind trap that chills me just typing about it. But we chose today for the lack of wind, and it didn’t disappoint. The usually windy traverse was calm and snowy, making for easy foot placements even if the climbing itself was anything but. Just our Luck. As we ascended and climbed we then reached the cave, the canaleta, and the shoulder of Aconcagua. All daunting and hard features in their own right,  but combine to make one hell of a final push. 

I am happy to say that we did summit today, right before the clouds rolled in. And even though we couldn’t share the summit with all of our teammates, we expect them to be back and we can’t wait to hear about their version of summit day. 

We’re safely back at Colera (High Camp) in our bags listening to the heavy snow fall from above. We’ll head down to see our friends at Basecamp tomorrow and we can’t wait. 

RMI Guide Dominic Cifelli 

The RMI Alpine Classic team led by RMI Guide Mike Walter was unable to leave camp at Lake Ann for a summit attempt of Mt. Shuksan due to steady rain. The team tried to wait out the rain but the rain persisted. They descended to the trailhead earlier today.