
Dropping into the steep entrance of the Granite 2 couloir was instantaneous: two feet of settled powder swallowed the skis and the world narrowed to the steady rhythm of jump-turn, breathe, jump-turn. The first few turns were tight and controlled before the terrain opened up and the following arcs were pure suspension, soft snow spraying against the bright blue sky. It was one of those bluebird days where the light sharpens everything: the steep granite walls on either side, the jagged teeth of the Alaska Range, and the expanse of the glacier below. Being at the right place at the right time, getting to ski that kind of untouched snow in that terrain was a wonderfully rare and perfectly simple reward.
The approach to ski a line such as this is equal parts luck and honest work.
After a gorgeous day to fly onto the Pika and set up camp, an exceedingly mellow snowstorm set in for two days. This storm brought 18 inches of low-density "cold smoke" snow that, as we say in the industry, "came in right side up" (meaning that as the storm progressed, the snow got progressively lighter). Perhaps more fortunate than the snow itself was the wind, or rather the lack of it. Over the course of those two days there was barely a whisper of wind among the falling flakes.
To ski a big Alaska line safely takes work, and ours started well before arriving on the Pika. Sam (my fellow guide on the trip) and I met our clients months before for a few days of backcountry skiing in the Wasatch. This got the entire group on the same page with regards to risk management and gave Sam and me confidence in everyone's skiing and riding ability.
Once on the Pika, the work continued: quick snow pits, terrain observations, a stepped progression of objectives, and systematic scouting were all required. As our confidence in both the snowpack and the crew grew, we set our sights on Granite 2, a consistent northwest-facing couloir with a steep entrance, an open face, and a somewhat complex glaciated exit.
With preparation complete, the work continued with a skin up the backside of our objective. Once at the top, I built an anchor so Sam could perform a belayed ski cut (a standard mitigation tactic used to test for small, new snow avalanche problems). With no red flags present, we began what would turn into a magical descent.
The steep 50-plus-degree entrance presented a different calculus for each person. Some opted for an initial rappel, some a belayed ski, and others clicked in right from the top. Everyone listened to their own inner voice with regards to comfort and ability. Once in, by whatever means, the pure joy of deep settled powder on a steep and picturesque face was found by all.
The main section unfolded into long, pillowy turns as deep settled powder cushioned each arc. There was a playful, weightless bounce to the run: clean face shots, an effortless float, and the kind of grin that comes from skiing something that feels almost too good to be real. All of it balanced, as it has to be in this terrain, by mindful line choice and timing.
We dropped into a slower, more deliberate cadence as the slope eased and the glacier opened beneath us. The snow quality became more variable and the bergschrund approached. In this environment, every turn earns a second thought. Adrenaline is welcome; carelessness is not.
Looking up at the line from below, the granite walls framed a steep fall line cut only by our few tracks. The combination of stable snow, bottomless powder, and flawless visibility made the whole pitch feel improbably composed. In the Alaska Range, that rare alignment of factors — when everything behaves and timing lines up — comes around very rarely. Standing there, I couldn't help but feel humbled and grateful to have been a part of it.
Beyond the line itself, the trip was a full sensory Alaska experience: the mouth-watering smell of burgers from the cook tent, the distant roar of serac falls, the taste of cold air after a hard bootpack, and that incredible stillness at the top before you drop. The Range's scale makes everything feel small and temporary. Tracks fade fast in this environment.
For all the technical planning, the big takeaway was simple: a perfect line, deep settled snow, and a day in the Alaska Range that will not come around again quite like that. The soft hold of powder under skis is a feeling that sticks.





Stories like this one don't happen by accident. They're the product of years of experience reading mountains, managing risk, and knowing when conditions are finally asking you to go. Seth, Sam, and all our guides bring that same preparation and judgment to every RMI expedition. If the Pika has you thinking about your own Alaska adventure, we'd love to help you start planning. Explore our Alaska programs or reach out to our team to learn more.]]>
The mountains we climb are not ours to keep. They belong to the generations of climbers, hikers, and adventurers who will come after us. That's the foundational belief behind Leave No Trace, and it's one that RMI Expeditions has embraced, championed, and helped shape for more than two decades.
Leave No Trace (LNT) is a framework of outdoor ethics developed by the Leave No Trace Center for Outdoor Ethics, a national nonprofit dedicated to protecting the outdoors through education, research, and partnerships. Its Seven Principles provide practical, science-based guidance for minimizing human impact in any outdoor environment, from a local trail to the summit of Denali.
RMI and Leave No Trace: A Partnership Built on the Mountain

RMI's relationship with Leave No Trace goes far deeper than certification checkboxes. In the early 2000s, RMI's own Peter Whittaker completed a Leave No Trace Master Course and realized that established LNT principles didn't adequately address alpine environments. He got to work. RMI hosted a symposium bringing together concessionaires, climbing clubs like the Mazamas and Seattle Mountaineers, and park rangers to develop clear LNT guidelines for the Alpine Zone, protocols that are now applied on mountains worldwide.
That dedication led to RMI being recognized as the first Gold Standard Outfitter and Guide by the Leave No Trace Center for Outdoor Ethics. It's a distinction we're proud of, and one we work every single season to earn.
Today, that commitment shows up in concrete ways. All RMI guides must hold at least a Leave No Trace Level 1 Instructor certification; newly hired guides receive Level 2 training as part of onboarding. On Mt. Rainier, RMI guides contribute 40 volunteer days of Environmental Patrols each season, picking up trash, hauling out waste, and tracking progress by weight. RMI is currently the only guide service on Mount Rainier to conduct these environmental patrols. On Denali programs, an LNT Level 2 Instructor is staffed on every expedition, and Clean Mountain Cans are used to carry all solid human waste off the mountain.
RMI is also one of the few guiding services to offer a Leave No Trace Level 2 Instructor Course combined with a summit of Mount Baker, a five-day expedition that prepares participants to become LNT instructors themselves.


RMI Guides doing environmental patrols on Mount Rainier
Want the full story of RMI's sustainability legacy? Read: Leave No Trace: RMI's Sustainable Climbing Legacy
The Seven Principles
The Seven Principles of Leave No Trace aren't a set of rules handed down from above. They're a shared ethic, a way of moving through wild places with intention and care. Whether you're new to the outdoors or a seasoned alpinist, these principles apply everywhere you go. We've partnered with Leave No Trace to bring each one to life in the videos below.
Please note: The Principle of Travel and Camp on Durable Surfaces has been split into two videos.
1. Plan Ahead and Prepare
Good LNT practice begins before you ever set foot on the trail. Planning ahead means understanding the regulations and special concerns for the area you're visiting, preparing for extreme weather and emergencies, and scheduling your trip to avoid times of high use. It also means thinking carefully about food packaging, group size, and waste management before you leave home. The more intentional your preparation, the less impact you'll leave behind.
2. Travel and Camp on Durable Surfaces
In the mountains, where you put your feet and pitch your tent matters enormously. Durable surfaces like rock, gravel, dry grass, and snow can withstand repeated use without lasting damage. Fragile alpine vegetation, on the other hand, can take decades to recover from a single careless footstep. On established routes, concentrate use on existing trails and campsites. In pristine areas, spread out to avoid creating new impact zones.
3. Dispose of Waste Properly
Pack it in, pack it out. That applies to everything: food scraps, litter, and yes, human waste. In alpine environments, improper waste disposal contaminates water sources, spreads disease, and leaves a visual impact that degrades the experience for everyone who follows. On high-use peaks like Mt. Rainier and Denali, RMI requires the use of waste disposal systems, blue bags on Rainier and Clean Mountain Cans on Denali, to ensure nothing gets left behind.
4. Leave What You Find
The rock formation, the wildflower, the bleached bone on the glacier. Leave it exactly as you found it. Taking natural objects or disturbing historical structures removes something irreplaceable from the landscape. The principle extends to cultural and archaeological sites as well. Observe and photograph, but resist the urge to collect. The best souvenir is the memory.
5. Minimize Campfire Impacts
In alpine environments, campfires are rarely appropriate and often prohibited. Above treeline, there's no wood to burn, and the visual and ecological scars fires leave behind are long-lasting. Use a camp stove for cooking and a headlamp for light. Where fires are permitted at lower elevations, keep them small, use established fire rings, burn only small sticks found on the ground, and make sure the fire is completely out before you leave.
6. Respect Wildlife
Mountains are habitat for marmots, ravens, mountain goats, and dozens of other species that call the alpine zone home. Observe wildlife from a distance and never feed animals, even accidentally. Storing food and scented items properly protects both the wildlife and your group. Give animals space, especially during sensitive periods like nesting or denning season. On Rainier, that means being mindful of marmot burrows near popular campsites like Camp Muir.
7. Be Considerate of Other Visitors
The mountains are a shared space. Yield to uphill climbers on the trail, keep noise levels down, and be mindful of how your group's pace and behavior affects others on the route. In camp, maintain a respectful distance from other parties and keep communal areas clean. The goal is for everyone to have an experience worth returning for.
Leave No Trace isn't something you do once and check off a list. It's a practice, one that gets sharper the more time you spend in the mountains. Whether you're planning your first climb with RMI or your fifteenth, we encourage you to carry these principles with you on every trip, on every mountain, in every environment you're lucky enough to explore.
The mountains give us a lot. Let's give them back the same.
]]>Climbing Mount Rainier is a dream for a lot of people. At 14,410 feet, it's one of the most iconic mountains in North America and one of the best places in the world to actually learn how to be a mountaineer. Not just read about it. Do it.
But if you've started researching a beginner's guide to Mount Rainier, you already know how fast the information piles up. Training plans. Gear lists. Glacier travel. Altitude. Weather. Crevasse rescue. It can feel like drinking from a firehose before you've even laced up a boot.
Here's the thing: you don't need to figure it all out at once.
After 50+ years guiding on Rainier and mountains around the world, our guides have learned that success usually comes down to a handful of habits done consistently and well. So we went straight to the source and asked several RMI guides to share the advice they give first-time climbers most often.
Think of this as a field-tested shortcut. The stuff that actually matters, from people who spend a lot of time above the tree line.

The most common training mistake new climbers make? Putting in serious hours at the gym or on flat terrain. RMI Guide Eric Frank keeps his advice simple: make your training look as much like the actual climb as possible.
"Walking up hills or steps is better than flat ground," Eric says. "Carrying a pack with a similar amount of weight, or work your way up to it, helps immensely."
Stairs, steep trails, weighted hikes. Start lighter and build gradually. If you want a full breakdown of what a Rainier-specific training plan looks like, our training guide is a great place to start.
RMI Guide Henry Coppolillo adds a piece of advice that surprises a lot of first-timers: train for the downhill, too.
"Walking down Mount Rainier will probably be a lot harder than you think," Henry says. "On a regular hiking trail with a light pack, the descent is pretty mindless. But after several thousand feet of vertical gain in your legs plus stiff boots, crampons, and a heavy pack, the descent is potentially just as challenging as the ascent. It's just more of a strength and coordination challenge than an aerobic one."
Seek out steep hikes with uneven footing. Add eccentric leg exercises that target the muscles you use walking downhill. Your future self will be grateful.
One more thing worth knowing before you start training: Rainier isn't your typical 14er. As RMI Guide Dominic Cifelli puts it plainly,"it's colder, windier, and more elevation gain. Bring that parka."
Altitude anxiety is real, and it's one of the things new climbers stress about most. Dominic's take? Keep it simple.
"The best way to feel good at altitude is to have good cardiovascular fitness." That's it. Train well, show up fit, and let your body do its thing. Curious about what to realistically expect up high? We've got an inside look at daily life on Rainier.

Blisters are one of the most common issues for new climbers. They're also one of the most preventable.
Henry is direct about it: "Speak up right away if you feel a hot spot forming. A few minutes of tape early in the day can prevent a much bigger problem later." If you know you tend to get blisters in the same spots, consider pre-taping those areas each morning before you start moving.
RMI Guide Pete Van Deventer adds that even if you're in rental boots, you don't have to start from zero on comfort. Semi-custom footbeds like Superfeet, Sidas, or ZipFit insoles can make a real difference for support and fit. "Putting your own insoles in a rental boot can make a big difference for comfort and prevention."
Mountaineering is hard. Your gear shouldn't be the reason it's miserable. For a full rundown on what to bring on your feet (and everywhere else), check out our ultimate gear guide.
When you're prepping for your first climb, it's tempting to add just one more thing. An extra pair of gloves. Another shirt. A few backup snacks. Just in case.
Dominic offers a gentle but firm reality check: "Those ounces add to pounds quicker than we'd like to think. Be critical. Taking 10 pairs of underwear on a 4-day vacation is no big deal when you check bags, but you have to carry this on your back!"
Now, full transparency: Eric does sneak a cotton T-shirt into his pack for camp. "It feels incredible after wearing synthetic all day." He even uses it to stuff his parka into a makeshift pillow.
Dominic's response to this? "I know that contradicts Eric's T-shirt tip directly, but for beginner climbers, shaving the weight is more important. Sorry, Eric."
We love our guides.

A few small habits that make a surprisingly big difference over multiple days on the mountain:
Sunscreen. Eric cannot stress this enough. "Under the chin, behind the ears, inside the nostrils. I have seen too many trips end because folks are not liberal enough with sunscreen. Every hour isn't too much." High altitude sun hits differently and the reflection off snow makes it hit twice.
Hydration on a schedule. Pete encourages climbers to practice pulling out a water bottle roughly once an hour during training, rather than constant sipping. "That is often quite different from what people are used to and can get in their head on the mountain. You can be thirsty without being dehydrated." Better to get used to it before you're on the glacier.
Food you actually want to eat. RMI Guide Hannah Blum has a simple rule: "Bring snacks you actually want to eat. Your summit snacks should feel like a reward, not a chore." It sounds obvious until you're 12,000 feet up staring at a bar you hate. What you eat on a climb matters more than most people realize, here's how to prep accordingly.
This one is small, but it's a game-changer on summit day.
Hannah's habit: prep everything the night before. Lay it out. Pack it. Know where it is. "That way you can just wake up and climb." When your alarm goes off at 1am and the temperature has dropped and you're half-asleep at high altitude, you'll be very glad you did this.
Every climber hits a moment when the mountain feels big and the challenge feels very, very real.
Hannah's advice for that moment is probably the simplest thing in this entire post: "Just breathe."
Focus on the next step. Then the one after that. That's all you need to do right now.
And while you're at it, speak to yourself with kindness. When your legs are screaming to stop, the voice in your head should be on your side.
A few climbers swear by small morale boosters to get through the tough stretches. Hannah puts glitter on before big objectives. "It's guaranteed bliss, even if it's a sufferfest. Actually, it makes a sufferfest so much better." Some paint their nails. "It's nice to take your gloves off and see something pretty." These things sound small, but after a long day at altitude, small things matter a lot. Whatever it is that puts a little spark in your day up there, bring it.
Sleep, by the way, is going to be weird. Between the excitement, the altitude, and early alpine starts, most climbers don't sleep as well as they do at home. That's normal. That's part of it. The sleep you get after you've completed your objective? Hannah promises it will be very, very good.
Hannah has one piece of advice on your mountain hairstyle. Braids.
They fit under a helmet, keep hair out of your eyes when it's windy, and keep things manageable if you're in the mountains for multiple days. Practical and functional.
And if you're thinking about your period on the mountain, you're not alone. Check RMI Guide, Avery Stole's compilation of tips and tricks for managing your flow in the backcountry.
It's easy to get tunnel vision on a climb. Eric's reminder is a good one to carry with you:
"Take a moment to look around, enjoy the incredible beauty, and take a mental snapshot."
The sunrise over the Cascades. The shadow of Rainier stretching across the horizon. The quiet of a glacier at 4am. These are the moments you'll still be talking about years from now.

This post is just the beginning. Here are the resources that'll take you deeper into your Rainier prep and if you have questions along the way, our guides are always happy to help!









Here's something we hear a lot at RMI: "I've done a few 14ers in Colorado — I think I'm ready for Rainier."
We love that energy. And we want to help you channel it in the right direction, because Rainier is a different animal. Colorado 14ers typically start around 10,000 feet. Rainier starts at 5,420 feet at Paradise, which means you are earning every single foot of that 14,410-foot summit from much lower down. The approach to Camp Muir alone climbs 4,600 vertical feet with a 25 to 35-pound pack on your back. Then you get a few hours of rest (not sleep, rest) before an alpine start in the middle of the night and a summit push that can run 10 to 14 hours round trip.
Long. Cold. Load-bearing. High altitude. Those four words define what Rainier demands. They should also define how you train for it.
This guide gives you the structure to get there. It's built on the same principles our guides use to evaluate whether climbers are ready, drawn from decades of experience on the mountain. It works anywhere, requires minimal equipment, and scales to wherever you start. Follow it, stay consistent, and you'll show up to the trailhead fit, confident, and ready for the climb ahead.

Want to dive deeper into the topics that make up this article? Check out the resources below, or reach out to us for more information - we're always happy to help!
Or check out our Training for Mount Rainier webinar with RMI Guide and Alpine Training Systems owner Dominic Ciffelli.
Good training starts with honest goal-setting. Before you log a single workout, get clear on these questions.
About the climb:
About yourself:
The answers shape everything. Someone with six months and a strong running base trains differently from someone with twelve weeks starting from scratch. Neither is at a disadvantage, but both need a plan that is honest about where they're starting.
One thing worth saying up front: being from Florida is not a disadvantage. We promise. Cardiovascular fitness and muscular endurance are what actually determine your performance on Rainier. A well-trained climber from sea level will outperform a poorly prepared climber from Denver every time. Don't overthink the altitude question; focus on the training.
Three things. Nail these, and you're in a strong position on summit day.

Aerobic Endurance is your ability to move steadily for a long time without redlining. Not sprinting, not gasping, just sustained, efficient movement at an elevated heart rate for hours on end. This is the engine the entire climb runs on.
Muscular Endurance is your muscles' ability to sustain effort under load throughout a full summit day. Think of Rainier as thousands of box step-ups in a row, with a heavy pack, at altitude. Your muscles don't need to be explosive; they need to last.
Fatigue Resistance is your ability to recover between efforts. On the mountain, RMI guides typically target about an hour of movement followed by a 10 to 15-minute rest. How well your body bounces back in that window matters more than most climbers expect.
Check those three boxes, and you're ready to climb. It's really that focused.
Before we get into the plan itself, a mindset note worth internalizing.
There's no single workout that makes or breaks your Rainier preparation. No magic session, no brutal sufferfest that unlocks summit fitness. What actually moves the needle is consistency over a long stretch of time; gradual progression, regular effort, and smart recovery. The longer the runway you give yourself before your climb, the bigger the base you can build, and the more margin you have to absorb a sick week or a minor injury without losing ground.

Progress comes from sessions that feel almost too easy. Consistency beats intensity. That's not permission to slack off, it's a reminder that the goal is to arrive at the trailhead in the best shape of your life, not exhausted from cramming four months of training into six weeks.
A perfectly followed, poorly structured training plan beats a poorly followed, perfectly structured one. Commit to something and see it through." — RMI Guide Dominic Cifelli
This is a 16-week program broken into four phases. Each one builds on the last.

Phase 1: Base Fitness (Weeks 1-4) lays the aerobic foundation. Easy movement, foundational strength, building habits and routine.
Phase 2: Mountaineering-Specific (Weeks 5-10) adds intervals, weighted pack hikes, and more targeted strength work. You're starting to train like a climber.
Phase 3: Peak Simulation (Weeks 11-14) is where it gets real. Long days, heavy packs, back-to-back efforts that mimic multi-day climbing conditions.
Phase 4: Taper and Recovery (Weeks 15-16) is about arriving rested and ready. Volume drops, intensity drops, and your body banks the fitness you've built.
Time commitment ramps up across the plan. Early phases ask for 4 to 7 hours per week. Peak phase weeks can reach 15 or more hours. Plan your schedule around it — especially in Weeks 11 through 14.
If your climb is sooner or further out than 16 weeks, the phases still apply; you just compress or expand them accordingly. The structure matters more than the exact timeline.
For a detailed week-by-week breakdown with daily workout suggestions, nutrition notes, and progress tracking, download the RMI 16 Week Training Plan Template. This blog covers the framework and the reasoning, but the template gives you the full detail.
The goal: Build a broad aerobic base and establish consistent training habits.
Think of Phase 1 as building the foundation that everything else sits on. The stronger the foundation, the higher the rest of the plan can go. This is not the time to go hard, it's the time to go consistently.

The primary training mode here is easy aerobic movement at a conversational pace. Hikes, runs, bike rides, whatever keeps you moving and injury-free. You should be able to hold a full conversation at this level of effort. If you're gasping, slow down.
Foundational strength work starts in Phase 1 as well, focused on core stability and the movements most specific to uphill travel. Keep it simple: bird dogs, strict sit-ups, and box step-ups are your foundation. These exercises build the stable trunk and lower body capacity that everything else on the mountain depends on.

By the end of Week 4, you'll run your first benchmark test — a timed mile and a push-up count. Record your scores. You'll repeat this test periodically to measure progress and catch anything that needs attention.
| Day | Workout | Duration | Intensity |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Easy aerobic (hike/jog) | 30-45 min | Easy |
| 2 | Strength and core | 20-30 min | Moderate |
| 3 | Rest or light yoga | — | Recovery |
| 4 | Easy aerobic | 30-40 min | Easy |
| 5 | Strength and core | 20-25 min | Moderate |
| 6 | Long hike or run | 60-90 min | Easy-moderate |
| 7 | Active recovery | 20-30 min | Very easy |
What success looks like: You're getting out consistently, your legs feel good, and the easy sessions actually feel easy. That last part is important — resist the urge to push harder than the plan calls for. Want to go deeper on building your aerobic base? Check out our guide to Aerobic Base Training for Mountaineering Success, which covers zone training, long slow distance work, and how to avoid the common trap of building intensity before you've built a proper foundation.
"Stairs, stairs, and more stairs. Whether you find them at a local stadium, in your apartment building, or on the stair climber at the gym — start climbing. Put some weight in your pack immediately and just go." — Ady Peterson, RMI Rainier Summiter
The goal: Maintain your aerobic base while adding interval training, weighted pack hikes, and more targeted strength work.
Phase 2 is where training starts to look and feel like preparation for a mountain. The volume increases, the specificity increases, and for the first time, you'll push above your comfortable aerobic pace.

Not all effort is created equal, and understanding the difference helps you train smarter. Here's how to think about the intensity levels that show up in this phase:
Endurance pace is your forever pace. The effort you could theoretically sustain for many hours. Zone 2 if you're familiar with heart rate training. This stays the backbone of most sessions.
Steady state is a step above endurance, more demanding on both your cardiovascular system and your muscles, but still sustainable. This is actually the most specific training intensity for Rainier, because it most closely mirrors what summit day feels like.
Tempo efforts are shorter bursts near your lactate threshold, the point where your muscles start burning. These build the density of mitochondria in your cells, which helps you resist fatigue and handle heat better. Think of a 3 x 2-minute hard effort with recovery in between.
Intervals are short, high-intensity bursts designed to expand your aerobic capacity. They feel hardest but are actually the least specific to Rainier. They're training your ceiling, not your sustained output. For a full breakdown of interval formats including fartlek, 4x4, and ladder workouts, along with how to balance them with your aerobic base, read our Interval Training for Mountaineering Endurance guide.
Starting in Week 5, add pack weight to your weekend hikes. Begin with 10 to 15 pounds and build gradually toward 20 to 25 pounds by the end of Phase 2. Use your actual climbing gear as ballast if you have it. This is also a great time to find out if anything doesn't fit right before it matters. A practical tip: fill water bottles or jugs to achieve your target weight on the way up, then dump the water at the top so you're descending lighter. Your knees will thank you, and the training adaptation from the uphill is what counts anyway.
| Day | Workout | Duration | Intensity |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Interval: 8 x 2-min uphill repeats | 45-60 min | Hard |
| 2 | Strength (leg endurance focus) | 30-40 min | Moderate |
| 3 | Easy aerobic | 50-60 min | Easy |
| 4 | Rest | — | Recovery |
| 5 | Moderate hike | 1.5-2 hrs | Easy-moderate |
| 6 | Long hike with 20 lb pack | 3-4 hrs | Moderate |
| 7 | Active recovery | 20-30 min | Very easy |
Phase 2 is when strength training evolves from core foundation work to more mountain-specific loading. Add split leg squats to build the single-leg stability that every uphill step demands. Turkish get-ups, kayakers, and leg raises keep building the core strength that keeps you efficient — and safe — under a heavy pack.


Important framing here: strength training is the cherry on top of your cardiovascular work, not a replacement for it. If you're cooked from a big aerobic week, skip the gym session. Take the rest seriously instead. A well-rested climber outperforms an overtrained one every time.
Benchmark test in Week 8. Repeat the timed mile and push-up test from Week 4. You should see real gains. If numbers have stalled, it's a signal to look at recovery and nutrition before adding more volume.
The goal: Put everything together. Long days, heavy packs, back-to-back efforts that mirror real climbing conditions.
This is the hardest part of the plan, and that's intentional. Week 14 in particular may be harder than the climb itself. That's the point; you want to arrive at the mountain having already done something this demanding, so the climb feels familiar rather than shocking.

Weekend hikes in Phase 3 extend to 5, 6, and eventually 7 to 8 hours. Pack weight builds to 30 to 35 pounds and eventually approaches 40 pounds on your biggest days. These are not jogs in the park, so plan them like you'd plan the climb itself. Check the weather, bring the right gear, let someone know your route, and leave early enough to account for the time.
In Weeks 12 and 14, you'll take on back-to-back long hiking days over the weekend. You may be tired on the second day. That's the training effect. Your body learning to perform under accumulated fatigue is exactly what multi-day climbing demands.
If you're local to the Mount Rainier area, consider hiking to Camp Muir for your big training day in Week 13. Nothing simulates the approach like the actual approach.
Week 12 introduces fartlek training — a Swedish term that means "speed play." During your training hike, you pick a target on the trail (a tree, a switchback, a rock) and push hard to it, then settle back to your regular pace. You choose the intervals, vary the lengths, and keep it spontaneous. It's fun, it replicates the unpredictable demands of mountain terrain, and it's genuinely a nice change of pace after weeks of structured efforts.
| Day | Workout | Duration | Intensity |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Interval: 5 x 3-min uphill repeats | 45-60 min | Hard |
| 2 | Strength (compound movements) | 30-40 min | Moderate |
| 3 | Easy aerobic | 60-90 min | Easy |
| 4 | Rest or optional benchmark test | — | Recovery |
| 5 | Medium hike | 2-3 hrs | Moderate |
| 6 | Long hike with 35 lb pack | 5-7 hrs | Moderate-hard |
| 7 | Active recovery | 20-30 min | Very easy |
Peak training weeks demand serious recovery between efforts. Sleep, nutrition, and rest days are not luxuries at this point, they're part of the training. Recovery weeks aren't a break from training. They're when adaptation actually happens. Your body rebuilds stronger during rest, not during the workout itself. If you're feeling beaten down heading into a big week, pull back. Arriving undertrained is recoverable. Arriving injured or overtrained is not. For a deeper look at how to structure recovery weeks, how much to reduce volume, and what adaptation actually looks like, read Mountaineering Training: Recovery and Consolidation.
"It is to date the HARDEST physical challenge I've ever taken on — even as a collegiate athlete and a yoga, barre, and spin instructor. What got me to the top was the right preparation." — Ady Peterson, RMI Rainier Summiter

The goal: Arrive at your climb rested, not exhausted.
Here's a hard truth about the final two weeks: you cannot meaningfully improve your fitness anymore. The work is done. What you can do is show up fresh, and that matters more than most climbers realize.

Training volume drops by around 50% in Week 15. Intensity drops too. Short, easy efforts keep your legs moving without digging into your recovery. Resist the urge to squeeze in one last big training day. The mountain will be there. Your job right now is to rest.
Week 16 is about logistics, gear, and mental readiness. Triple-check your kit. Eat foods you know your body handles well; this is not the week to try anything new. Hydrate consistently in the days leading up to your climb. Sleep.
| Day | Workout | Duration | Intensity |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Easy aerobic | 30-45 min | Easy |
| 2 | Light strength (1-2 sets, no heavy loads) | 20-30 min | Light |
| 3 | Rest or gentle walk | 20-30 min | Very easy |
| 4 | Short intervals (2-3 x 2 min, not max effort) | 20 min | Moderate |
| 5 | Rest or easy yoga/mobility | — | Recovery |
| 6 | Easy hike with light pack (15-20 lbs) | 2-3 hrs | Easy |
| 7 | Rest | — | Recovery |
If nerves are getting loud during this window, that's normal. Channel them productively; review your gear list, read about the route, visualize the climb. The anxiety is just excitement in disguise, and the training you've done gives you every right to feel confident.
Strength work runs through all four phases, but it's worth addressing directly: strength training supports your cardiovascular work, it doesn't replace it.
Think of a strong core as the tree trunk that everything else grows from. When your core is solid, you move efficiently under load, you make fewer sloppy mistakes on tricky terrain, and you put less stress on your joints over a long summit day. When it isn't, fatigue compounds fast.
Here's how the strength focus evolves across the plan:
Early phase (Phase 1-2): Core foundation and basic uphill capacity. Bird dogs, strict sit-ups, and box step-ups. These build the stability and step-specific strength that everything else builds from.
Later phase (Phase 2-3): More targeted mountain strength. Split leg squats for single-leg stability, Turkish get-ups and kayakers for core control under dynamic movement, leg raises for lower core strength. Eccentric loading — stepping down from an elevated surface slowly — trains your downhill muscles specifically, which take a beating on descent.
One practical note on weighted training: if you're doing weighted hikes and want to train the uphill without hammering your knees on the way down, carry water bottles or jugs to hit your target weight. Dump the water at the top and descend light. It's not cheating, it's smart training.
Nutrition is part of training, not an afterthought to it. What you eat before, during, and after workouts shapes how well you recover and how ready you are for the next session. And what you practice eating during training is what you'll rely on at altitude, so use this time wisely.
Carbohydrates are your primary fuel source, especially for interval work and high-intensity efforts. Don't shy away from them.
Protein repairs and builds muscle. Prioritize a quality protein source at each meal, and get something in within an hour after hard sessions.
Healthy fats provide sustained energy for long aerobic efforts. They become especially important on multi-hour hikes and summit day itself.
If you want to go deeper on how to train your body to burn fat more efficiently and avoid the dreaded mid-climb energy crash, our Becoming Bonk Proof guide breaks down fat oxidation, carb cycling, and zone 2 training in detail.
For workouts over an hour, you need to eat during the effort, not just before and after. Aim for 100 to 200 calories per hour in early phases, building toward 250 to 300 calories per hour by Peak Simulation phase. Eat every 45 to 60 minutes, whether you feel hungry or not. Training this habit now means it's automatic when you're at 12,000 feet, and appetite is the last thing on your mind.
Hydration target: roughly 16 to 20 ounces per hour, depending on conditions, with electrolytes on efforts over 90 minutes.
Here's the real talk on summit day food: at altitude, nothing gets more appealing the higher you go. Foods that seemed fine at the trailhead can become genuinely repulsive by the time you're above 12,000 feet.
The best rule of thumb? If you wouldn't eat it on your couch watching TV, don't count on it at 14,000 feet. Real food — Pringles, cheese, a Snickers, rice crackers — often works better than engineered nutrition products at altitude. Bring a variety. You want to be able to look in your pack and find something you actually want to eat, even when your appetite is gone.
Use your long training hikes in Phases 2 and 3 to experiment. Find out what your body handles well under sustained effort and at mild fatigue. Show up to the mountain with a proven fueling system, not a bag of optimism and trail mix.
"Pack real food — ideally food that you love, so that you'll be willing to eat even when you don't want to. I packed dried fruit, date balls, and pre-made quinoa. Calories are your friends up there." — Ady Peterson, RMI Rainier Summiter
When you're ready to plan exactly what you'll pack for the actual climb, our Mount Rainier Food Guide covers meal planning by day, calorie targets, and the best foods to bring for each part of the climb.
Readiness isn't a single test, it's a pattern. It's showing up consistently, building week over week, and arriving at the trailhead knowing you've put in the work.
That said, there is one concrete benchmark that RMI guides point to as a reliable indicator: Can you gain 1,000 vertical feet in an hour carrying a 25-pound pack and feel like you could go a little faster?

That's the pace of a typical section on Rainier. We move roughly 1,000 feet per hour, take a 10 to 15 minute rest, and do it again. If you can hit that number and still have something in the tank, you're in a good position. If you can do 2,000 feet per hour, even better — but 1,000 is the baseline worth targeting.
Run this as a field test in the final weeks of Phase 3. Find a hill with measurable elevation gain, load your pack to 25 pounds, and see where you are. Use it as a confidence check, not a pass/fail verdict.
| Metric | Week 4 | Week 8 | Week 12 | Week 14 |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1-Mile Run (min) | ||||
| Push-Ups in 1 min (#) | ||||
| Uphill time trial (1,000 ft gain) | ||||
| Pack stair climb (floors in 15 min) |
Tracking these numbers across the plan gives you real data on what's improving and what needs attention. Watching them move in the right direction is also one of the best motivators there is.
For more on how to design and use benchmark tests throughout your training, including creative test ideas and how to adjust your plan based on results, read The Importance of Benchmarking.
Mental fitness doesn't get trained in the gym; it gets built on the trail, in the rain, on the days when you really don't feel like going.
Every time you get out when conditions aren't ideal, when you're tired, when the couch is calling, you're building something. Not just fitness, but the confidence that comes from knowing you've done hard things. That confidence shows up on the mountain when things get uncomfortable, and they will get uncomfortable. You'll be able to say to yourself: I've been here before. I kept going then. I can keep going now.

Fitness also creates margin, and margin keeps you safe. A fit climber moves steadily and efficiently, makes fewer mistakes on technical terrain, and has something in reserve if conditions change and the team needs to move faster. Speed through exposed sections is sometimes a safety tactic on Rainier. You want to have it available.
The mountain doesn't care about your excuses, but it does reward your preparation.
This plan is built around Mount Rainier, but the framework applies to any major mountain objective. If you're training for a different peak, adjust the emphasis based on your specific challenges: more altitude prep if your objective tops 18,000 feet, more technical skill work if the route involves sustained rock climbing, more endurance volume if it's a multi-week expedition.
The core principles don't change: build the aerobic base first, layer in specific work as you progress, taper before the climb, and arrive rested. Check out our guide to Building a Custom Mountaineering Training Plan for more on tailoring this structure to your next objective.
Every climber comes to this plan from a different starting point, and every training journey looks a little different. For a lot of people, this guide and the downloadable template are all they need to get organized and get moving. For others, having a coach in their corner makes a real difference. Someone to adjust the plan when life gets complicated, push back when you're overtraining, and keep you accountable through the hard weeks.
If that sounds like you, there are a few resources worth knowing about.
On the reading side, two books stand out as genuinely useful for mountain athletes. Training Essentials for Ultrarunning by Jason Koop is a surprisingly applicable resource for mountaineers. The ultrarunning community draws heavily on endurance sports science, and much of it translates directly to long summit days. For something more mountain-specific, Training for the Uphill Athlete by Steve House and Scott Johnston is a deep dive into alpine fitness. Both are worth your time.
For structured coaching platforms, a few options are recommended. Alpine Training Systems offers training plans designed by mountain guides who have stood on Rainier's summit and know exactly what the climb demands. Evoke Endurance is another strong option for climbers who want a more personalized endurance coaching approach. And Uphill Athlete has a wealth of free content alongside their paid coaching offerings, all focused on alpine and mountain performance.
Finally, don't underestimate the value of a training partner. Someone who knocks on your door on a rainy Tuesday morning and says, "Let's go," is worth more than any app or program. The RMI Strava Club is a great place to find people training for the same goals. Log your workouts, follow along with others, and tap into a community of climbers putting in the same work you are.
Whatever combination of resources you use, the most important thing is to commit to a plan and follow it consistently. A training plan you actually do will always beat a perfect plan you don't.
You've got the plan. Now it's time to start using it.
Download the RMI 16 Week Training Plan Template for your week-by-week workouts, nutrition notes, and progress tracking. Join the RMI Strava Club to connect with other climbers going through the same process. And when you're ready to book your climb, explore RMI's guided programs at rmiguides.com.
We'll see you on the mountain.
]]>Whether you're eyeing your first major summit or adding another peak to your experience, this 16-week plan gives you the foundation to arrive at your climb ready. It's built on the same principles we use to prepare climbers for Mount Rainier, but it's flexible enough to adapt to whatever mountain you're chasing.
Inside, you'll find proven conditioning strategies paired with practical guidance on fueling, recovery, and skill development. The goal is simple: show up feeling fit, confident, and excited for what's ahead.
This article takes you through how to use our 16 Week Training Plan Template, which you can download as an Excel or Google Sheets file. If you're using Google Sheets, just click the link, then select File → Make a Copy to create your own editable version.
To get the most out of this plan, check out these RMI resources that dig deeper into the training concepts you'll be using:
Training goals are critically important given the time constraints placed by weather, route conditions, objective hazards, and the effects of altitude. Proper physical conditioning allows you to perform better by climbing longer, stronger and faster, be more comfortable on steeper and awkward terrain, carry heavier loads, recover more quickly at rest, and better enjoy the entire adventure.

Begin by asking these questions:
This 16-week plan breaks down into four phases: Base Fitness, Mountaineering-Specific, Peak Simulation, and Taper & Recovery. You'll gradually build aerobic capacity, strength, and the mountain-specific skills you need. Each week includes suggested workouts, nutrition tips, and space to log your own details.
The keys to success? Consistency, smart fueling, and regular performance checks.
Primary Goal: Build a broad aerobic base and basic strength.
Typical Workouts: Easy runs/hikes, foundational strength work (bodyweight squats, lunges, push-ups), mobility sessions.
Nutrition Emphasis: Increase daily protein, make sure you're getting adequate carbs for moderate-intensity aerobic sessions.
Primary Goal: Add interval training, weighted pack hikes, and skill practice (balance, stepping technique, basic footwork).
Typical Workouts: Hill repeats, speed hikes, progressive pack weight.
Nutrition Emphasis: Refine your fueling strategy. Start incorporating more calorically dense snacks, experiment with fasted easy sessions if you want.
Primary Goal: Longer hikes (multiple hours), heavier packs, possibly back-to-back long days to simulate real climb conditions.
Typical Workouts: 4 to 8 hour hikes on weekends, continued intervals, advanced strength sessions.
Nutrition Emphasis: Practice your "summit day" eating and drinking schedule. Make sure you can handle real trail snacks and meals.
Primary Goal: Significantly reduce training volume (around 50%) so you arrive at your climb feeling rested, not fatigued.
Typical Workouts: Brief, low-intensity hikes, final gear checks, mental prep.
Nutrition Emphasis: Maintain healthy calorie intake without the heavy training load. Focus on hydration, micronutrients, and rest.
To get ready for your climb, you'll want to hit five key areas: aerobic endurance, anaerobic/interval work, strength training, balance/agility, and flexibility/mobility. Each one builds a different piece of your overall fitness, helping you handle long days, steep sections, heavy packs, and quick recovery.
AEROBIC ENDURANCE

ANAEROBIC / INTERVAL WORK

STRENGTH TRAINING

BALANCE & AGILITY

FLEXIBILITY & MOBILITY

Mountaineering training places high demands on your body. Good nutrition ensures stable energy levels, supports muscle recovery, and helps prevent fatigue or injury.

Macronutrient Focus
Mid-Workout Fueling & Hydration
For efforts over 1 hour, plan your snack options (fruit, energy gels, bars, trail mix) and decide how often you'll eat (typically every 45-60 minutes). Note a hydration target per hour (e.g., 10-12 oz) and whether you'll use electrolyte tabs or sports drink.
Ongoing Adjustments
Throughout the 16 weeks, reevaluate how well your nutrition plan is supporting training. Experiment early in the plan to see what works best. By logging your observations, you'll develop a reliable system to keep you fueled, recovered, and ready for each step toward your summit.
Each week includes a table with suggested workouts and space for you to fill in your own details. Think of these as a framework, not a script. Here's what each column is for:
Suggested Workout: We provide a recommended structure (like "Strength & Mobility" or "Interval Hike").
Your Plan: Fill in the actual details. Duration, pack weight, location, intensity level. Make it yours.
Nutrition Notes: Jot down how you'll fuel before, during, or after workouts. This helps you dial in what works.
Progress Notes: Optional space for reflection. How you felt, any gear issues, adjustments you made. Tracking patterns here is valuable.
Use this table to log your benchmark test results every few weeks. Watching these numbers improve is one of the best motivators out there.
Focus:
Nutrition Focus:
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Customize Load & Duration: The suggested workouts are guidelines. Scale up or down based on your fitness, local terrain, and schedule.
Listen to Your Body: If fatigue piles up or you feel soreness/injury coming on, reduce volume or intensity. Prioritize rest.
Track Nutrition: Keep a log of what works best, especially on long hikes. Show up at your climb with a proven fueling strategy.
Stay Flexible: Work, weather, and life can shift your plan. Consistency over time beats perfection every time.
Enjoy the Journey: Building mountaineering fitness is challenging and rewarding. Celebrate the gains, learn from setbacks, and have fun with it.
This 16-week program gives you a structured, progressive plan you can adapt to your schedule and objective. Use the template to track your progress, dial in your nutrition, and build the fitness you need. Train well, and we'll see you on the mountain.
]]>You're three months out from your climb. You've been putting in the hours, hitting the trail with your pack, logging the workouts. But here's the question that keeps creeping in: Is it actually working? Am I really getting fitter, or just getting tired?
This is where benchmark testing comes in. Regular, standardized assessments of your aerobic endurance and strength give you real data about your progress. No more guessing. You'll see exactly where you're thriving and where you might need to adjust your approach.
Think of benchmarks as check-ins with yourself. They keep you motivated, help you make smart adjustments, and build confidence as your climb date gets closer.
Tests provide concrete evidence of how your fitness is evolving. Instead of wondering whether your uphill speed is improving, you can look at a time trial result and see real gains (or plateaus). Numbers don't lie.
No two climbers are the same. Genetics, age, training background, lifestyle—all of it affects how you respond to a workout plan. Testing lets you tailor your program to what actually works for your body.
If you're not seeing progress in your uphill speed after six weeks, for instance, you can introduce or modify interval sessions. The data tells you what to adjust.
Knowing you'll retest in a few weeks adds purpose to every workout. You're building toward a measurable goal, not just grinding away. And as you watch your numbers improve, you'll gain confidence that your summit ambitions are within reach.
"Training plans require adaptation to adjust to individuals' physiological differences, and benchmarks give you data points to make those adjustments."
For mountaineers, the most useful tests target aerobic endurance and strength. This reflects the dual nature of mountain climbing: you're moving for hours at moderate effort while also managing technical terrain or heavy packs that require solid strength.

Zone 1/2 Time Trials
Uphill Hike / Vertical Gain Test
3,000-Meter Test or Other Short Time Trials

Core & Leg-Focused Repetitions
Other Strength Benchmarks
"Our bodies take time to adapt to training, so benchmark tests are useful if done every month or 6 weeks. Over that time period you can expect to see improvement."

To get reliable data, replicate the conditions of each test as closely as possible:
"Be creative with creating your own benchmark tests. When you see how much time you've dropped on that uphill run, or how many more sit-ups you can do, you'll be more psyched to keep training." — Pete Van Deventer, RMI Expeditions


Testing isn't just about chasing numbers. It's about validating your hard work, adapting your plan to your actual needs, and staying motivated as your climb approaches.
By choosing tests that reflect real mountaineering demands—uphill speed, core strength, muscular endurance—you build a reliable feedback loop into your training. When summit day arrives, you can approach those steep slopes and loaded pack hauls with confidence, knowing you've tracked (and earned) every bit of progress along the way.
"A useful way to calm nerves is to do periodic benchmark tests. If you aren't seeing improvement, talk to a coach about how to adjust your training."
Stay consistent, be thoughtful in your testing, and watch your mountaineering fitness reach new heights.
]]>You're six hours into your summit push. Your legs feel like lead. Your brain is foggy. Even gentle slopes feel impossible. You just bonked, and there's still hours to go.
The bonk (also called "hitting the wall") is every climber's nightmare. It's that catastrophic energy crash that happens when your body runs out of its preferred fuel source: carbohydrates. And on long summit days that stretch from 12 to 15 hours or more, avoiding the bonk becomes critical to success.
The good news? You can train your body to burn fat more efficiently, preserving those limited carbohydrate stores and maintaining steady energy for the long haul. This guide breaks down how to become more "fat-adapted" so you can power through extended climbs without crashing.
When you're climbing for hours, starting in the dark, covering steep terrain, and facing changing weather, your body is under immense physical and mental stress. Success depends on two things:
While carbohydrate intake remains important (carbs provide high-octane energy for intense efforts), research increasingly shows that improving your fat burning capacity helps you maintain more stable energy output over extended climbs. By becoming more fat-adapted, you tap into a virtually unlimited energy supply, reducing the risk of depleting your glycogen stores too early.
Your body relies on two primary fuel sources:

Bonking (sometimes called "hitting the wall") occurs when muscle and liver glycogen reserves hit rock bottom. Common symptoms include:
What's Happening Physiologically
When glycogen is depleted, your body scrambles to produce glucose from alternative sources (often muscle protein or blood glucose), leading to rapid energy decline. That's why climbers carry snacks (energy gels, bars, candy) on the mountain: to replenish carbs in small increments and stave off a full bonk.
However, the body can only absorb about 250 calories of sugar per hour, which is far less than the total energy burned in a steep, multi-hour climb. Training your body to rely more on fat helps fill that energy gap.
Fat is energy-dense (about 9 calories per gram, more than twice the energy of carbohydrates). However, the body typically prioritizes carbohydrate usage, especially at higher intensities, because it's faster to break down for quick energy.

The secret to harnessing your fat reserves lies in two key strategies:
Key Biological Adaptations

The LCHF approach adjusts your daily food breakdown:
Sample LCHF Daily Meal Plan
Why Quinoa or Some Grains? A small portion of carbohydrate around training time can still be beneficial, especially for intense workouts or strength sessions.
Strict LCHF diets may hamper high-intensity bursts if taken to extremes. Some climbers prefer carb-cycling:
Note: The exact carb-to-fat ratio depends on personal response, training volume, and altitude requirements.
While adjusting your diet is crucial, pairing it with aerobic-focused workouts seals the deal. Fat burning thrives in sub-threshold or zone 2 intensities, typically 60 to 70 percent of your max heart rate, where you can still talk without gasping.
8-Week Aerobic Training Progression
Progress Tip: Monitor perceived exertion and heart rate drift. As you become fat-adapted, you'll maintain a lower heart rate at the same pace, indicating improved metabolic efficiency.
Fat adaptation isn't an overnight transformation. Expect 8 to 12 weeks of consistent dietary and training shifts before noticing significant changes like:
Common Challenge: The Adaptation Phase
The first 2 to 4 weeks can feel rough. Some people call this the "adaptation phase" or "low-carb flu," where energy levels fluctuate as your metabolism recalibrates. You might feel sluggish or foggy. This is normal. Ease into it, and avoid scheduling major summits or strenuous competitions during this transitional window.
Improving fat burning through diet and training is a proven approach for endurance sports, including mountaineering. By learning to tap into your near-limitless fat stores and preserve carbohydrate reserves, you reduce your risk of bonking and maintain more consistent, powerful performance over prolonged summit days.
With patience, consistency, and thoughtful adjustments, your body will respond by fueling climbs more efficiently, giving you the stamina to press on when others fade. Fat adaptation won't replace the value of carbohydrates completely, but it diversifies your energy options, ultimately supporting stronger, longer climbs in the high mountains.
Note: Nutrition and exercise plans should be tailored to individual needs and health conditions. Talk with a registered dietitian or medical professional for personalized guidance, especially if you have metabolic concerns, dietary restrictions, or ongoing health issues.
]]>Here's the truth: mountaineering asks a lot of your body. You need endurance to keep moving for hours. Strength to haul a heavy pack uphill. Balance to navigate tricky terrain. And the flexibility to recover quickly when conditions change.
Whether you're planning a multi-day expedition on Mount Rainier or heading for steep alpine routes elsewhere, a well-structured training program makes all the difference. You'll perform better, reduce your injury risk, and actually enjoy the climb instead of just surviving it.
This guide breaks down how to build your own mountaineering training plan. We'll cover the phases of smart periodization, how to develop a broad endurance base, and the essential components that make a strong mountain athlete. By the end, you'll have a personalized roadmap to get you summit-ready and apply to your 16 Week Training Plan template.
At its core, a solid mountain athlete is an endurance athlete. You need to handle a variety of intensity levels for long periods. Think carrying a heavy pack for hours of steady uphill, plus bursts of higher-intensity work when you hit challenging sections or need to move quickly through exposed terrain.

True endurance athletes excel at balancing long-and-steady efforts with short-and-explosive bursts on the same outing. That's exactly what mountains demand.
In the mountains, you need both working together so you can climb smoothly under load, adapt to unexpected terrain, and handle the demands of altitude.
"Training goals are critically important given the time constraints placed by weather, route conditions, objective hazards, and the effects of altitude."

Before you dive into the specifics, ask yourself these questions:
Getting clear on these points helps you design a realistic, purpose-driven plan that actually prepares you for what's ahead.

Aerobic Training
"In order to train for the exhausting days in the mountains, you've got to get out and do lengthy training climbs. Nothing else will prepare you as adequately."
Interval Training

Endurance (Motor Skill)
"Endurance isn't just about your lungs. Your muscles and connective tissues need resilience too."
Strength & Power Training
"In addition to leg strength, mountaineering requires a strong core (back and stomach) as heavy pack weights add a new dimension to climbing."
Balance & Agility
"Balance exercises give you increased body awareness and aid in your ability to negotiate tricky terrain."
Stretching & Flexibility
"Stretching helps reduce muscular tension and increases flexibility. Don't stretch through pain. Hold each stretch at the point of tension."
A general schedule might look like this with aerobic, strength, balance, and stretching all get woven in, and interval or strength training spaced about every third day to allow recovery.

Regularly measuring your gains keeps you motivated and shows if your training needs adjustment:
Aerobic Endurance Tests
Strength & Core Tests
Interval / High-Intensity Tests
Frequency: Test every 4 to 6 weeks. Use the data to adjust your plan. If your interval performance stalls, consider adding more rest or varying the intensity of your intervals.
Phase 1: Base Fitness
Phase 2: Mountaineering-Specific Emphasis
Phase 3: Final Climb Prep
(Adjust according to your phase, local terrain, and personal schedule.)

Join our Strava Community!

Designing a mountaineering training program isn't just about logging miles or lifting weights. It's about sustainable progression, focused skill-building, and strategic rest. By weaving cardiovascular and motor fitness together over a three-phase timeline and layering in benchmarks along the way, you'll arrive at your expedition stronger, more confident, and ready for what's ahead.
No plan is set in stone. Adapt your routine to life's demands, weather, or emerging weaknesses you discover in training. The key is to stay flexible and committed. With a clear structure and balanced emphasis on endurance, strength, and skill, you'll enjoy the climb more, reduce the risk of injury, and come home with summit photos and a deeper appreciation for the journey.
Train well, climb safely, and savor every step of your mountaineering adventure.
]]>A Collection of Journal Entries From The Torre Valley - by Raymond Holt.
Introduction
Patagonia is a world renowned climbing destination and chances are, if you are reading this article, you have heard about it before. It is often seen by trekkers as a must-see location on their bucket list of travel destinations. To climbers, it is a far offland shrouded in mystery, adventure, and objective hazard. Where even the best of the best can have an “epic”, climbing for upwards of 43 hour pushes, or partake in the most fulfilling alpine adventures that exist.
I first heard of the range when I was twelve years old from Yvon Chouinard’s classic film, Mountain of Storms. When I was sixteen I had the privilege of seeing Mt. Fitz Roy with my own eyes while living in Argentina. The hanging glaciers, incredible scenery, and 2000 meter granite faces brought me to tears. At that moment I decided what I wanted to do with my life: become a climber.
After eight years of training all across the Western United States in all the various disciplines of rock, ice, and mixed climbing; my best friend and climbing partner made our first trip to the Massif. There we successfully achieved a little boy's dream of standing on top of the most inspiring mountain I have ever seen. Via the route that inspired it all, Chouinard’s Californiana. It was quite the surreal feeling.
Now we are back for another season and more motivated than ever! Each day out in the mountains I keep a journal. The following article includes snippets of life at Niponino, our basecamp in the Torre Valley for the following month, as well as accounts of the climbing.
Good Weather, Stunning Views, Salame

Today marks the start of our Patagonian Adventure. The holy grail of alpine climbing in the Americas. Splitter cracks on golden granite that seems to never end; pointy agujas and sheer faces towering up to 6000’ in vertical relief; all protected by long approaches, rime covered summits, and wind only patagonia could produce. What more could you ask for? Many travel thousands of miles just to catch a glimpse of the massif, all to be denied by the region’s fickle weather. As I write this from the comfort of our first light, I peak outside and see the thousand meter walls on either side of the torre valley rising high, both intimidating and deeply inspiring.
The walk into Niponino is not for the faint of heart though it starts offquite pleasurable. A meander through mystic forests like that of a children’s book brings you to Laguna Torre. From there you cross the famous Tyrolean to cross the river and start your ascent around the south side of the lake. The trail declines significantly until it disappears entirely. After a number of hops, skips, and jumps over dry glaciers and moraine you have the pleasure of making it to Niponino.
I felt quite ill on the approach and the packs were heavy, but Cerro Torre was in full view calling us home like a lighthouse during a storm. Encouraging us to continue on. We plan to spend a month in the sacred town of El Chalten and the Torre Valley will act as our basecamp. We have a somewhat windy weather window but a weather window all the same. Our goals are Rubio y Azul on the Medialuna (350m 6c) and Chiaro di Luna on Saint-Exupery (750m 6b+). Two five star climbs and area classics. Life is good.
Peace, Love, Gratitude.
-RH
Splitters, Perseverance, A Strong Partner

I started feeling sick right before the 27 hour bus ride to El Chalten. I thought I could sleep the whole bus ride and feel better by the time we rolled into town. When that didn’t happen, I imagined the walk into Niponino would remedy my ailments. It is starting to seem like rest may be the only ticket. All that aside today we dusted offthe climbing cobwebs on Rubio y Azul after our respective winters in Colorado and Vermont. The approach was somewhat cumbersome and wandery in the dark. While descending the same scree field I came to the realization that maybe there is no easy way from Niponino to Noruegos where we gain the glacier.
We blasted offfrom the base of the route at 6:49am, racked and ready to go. We were full of both excitement and uncertainty. Climbing here carries the extra weight of no helicopter rescue always looming in the back of your mind. You truly are “on your own”. Jayden took the first four pitch block and I the second. Each block containing its own “money pitch”. The third pitch of my block before heading into Medialuna’s infamous chimney was the most enjoyable crack I have ever climbed in my life. Half way through the pitch of perfect hands the sun popped out for a few minutes and I had to appreciate where we were. Deep blue glaciers 1000’ below us on either side, Cerro Torre above us, and Mt. Fitz Roy at our backs. That brief moment was the last we would see of the sun all day. As we worked our way up the snow began to flurry and the winds picked up to 35-40mph.
Neither frozen hands nor sore feet could take away from the joy of standing on top. During the rappels we were briefly reminded of an experience we had descending Mt. Fitz Roy last season. High winds, equal stuck ropes. Luckily this time we eventually got our lifeline back and continued down cautiously. Back safely at Niponino we enjoy warm sleeping bags and full stomachs. The forecast is looking windier than before and I am feeling sicker than I would have hoped. Either way tomorrow is a rest day in one of the most inspiring campsites there is.
Peace, Love, Gratitude.
-RH
Chocolate, Siestas, Stretching

Rest day. Last night snow and wind made us retreat to the tent fairly early. I slept for twelve hours. This morning the high pressure returned; sunny and windy. Large plumes of snow have been wisping offAdela Peak’s cornice covered summit all day. Not too much to tell today. Stretched our sore bodies, sorted gear, and watched our food supplies slowly dwindle away. Tomorrow we have decided to pivot to a different objective. Partly due to the forecasted winds, mostly on account of me still feeling under the weather. Our objective is still a worthy endeavor. The Frader-Pisafe (400m 6c+) on el Mocho is a striking line on an inspiring wall. Happy to be alive and have the freedom to do what I love.
Peace, Love, Gratitude.
-RH
Weather, Partner you know and trust, Healthy Body - Jayden

El Mocho! Wow what a line. 1500’ of perfect granite sporting a 150m dihedral. Possibly the longest continuous corner system I have ever had the privilege to climb. This morning we got out of camp at 4:30am and made it to the base of the route by 6:00am. The approach was short by Patagonian standards but arduous. I got my foot wet while crossing the creek, and then went for a bit of a ride traversing the scree slope getting to Noruegos. Almost being crushed by a loose boulder about the size of a lawn mower. We set offat 6:30 just after finishing our last sips of coffee while racking up.
The first two pitches before gaining the dihedral were fun and bouldery but sparsely protected. The corner system had a wide variety of climbing styles: hands, finger cracks, stem problems where the seam petered out, and even some burly offwidth. The crux was a cool layback/undercling roof crack with an old rusty bolt right where you wanted it. Sometimes you clip these archaic bolts merely because they are there and make you feel warm and fuzzy rather than their actual utility in catching a leader's fall. It's what we call “psychological protection” in the climbing world. The summit was guarded by wet cracks and a long squeeze chimney which required careful footwork, tough elbow skin, and just enough grit to get by. In order to make it all the way to El Mocho’s summit you had to want it.
At the top a tear came to my eye. We could see from the Pollone group all the way to the turquoise blue water of Lago Viedma and beyond into the Patagonian desert. I looked at my best friend smiling ear to ear and couldn’t imagine a more perfect outing. Right offthe bat our rope stuck in the chimney on the way down. Without skipping a beat I led back up, freed the rope, and down climbed back to the anchor. Here in Patagonia the descents are very involved, there are little to no bolts on route. Only pitons; nuts; and old pieces of tat worn by the sun, wind, and rain are your way down. We went along lento y confiable, improving stations as we saw fit. Then skirted down slabs and scree happily back to camp. My nose sprung a leak covering my white sunhoody in blood which was the perfect excuse to wash offin the waterfalls coming offthe slabs by Noruegos.
All in all we were camp to camp sub eleven hours. Tomorrow we walk out back to Chalten to wait out the impending storm and rest our tired bodies. A successful primer pegue.
Peace, Love, Gratitude.
-RH
Now we sit in Chalten, getting fat office cream and Asado awaiting the next good weather window. A few days of rest will do us good but we are excited to go back to the Massif. Stay Tuned!
Raymond Holt
IG: raymond__holt
A special thank you to the Wilhelms for supporting this trip. LiveLikeLuke.
]]>Written by RMI Expeditions Guide Sam Hoffman.
Earlier this winter, I had the opportunity to complete the American Mountain Guides Association (AMGA) Ice Instructor Course, a five-day immersion into the craft of teaching, guiding, and moving efficiently through technical ice and mixed terrain. I took the course alongside two RMI guides, Calvin Jiricko and Raymond Holt. This course is an important step in any alpine guides path for the pursuit of professional standards in guiding.
The course focused on the skills required to instruct and guide technical ice climbing at a high level. We spent our days refining systems for leading, belaying, and managing guests on steep ice, as well as practicing instructional techniques that translate complex movement and risk management into clear, effective teaching. Beyond individual skills, there was a strong emphasis on decision-making, terrain assessment, and adapting techniques to real-world objectives—the same objectives many of our guests aspire to climb.
We started with shorter mixed and dry-tooling routes along Camp Bird Road outside of Ouray, dialing in precise movement and efficient systems on steep, technical terrain. Drytooling and mixed climbing begs the question: Why are you rock climbing with ice-tools in your hands? While it seems silly from a far, this is an engaging climbing method that helps with body positioning and movement to climb larger objectives. As the week progressed, we transitioned to longer waterfall ice routes near Silverton, Colorado, climbing up to seven pitches in a day.
Throughout the week, it was impossible not to draw direct connections to classic routes that RMI guides regularly teach and guide. The techniques we practiced are directly applicable to climbs like the Kautz Glacier on Mount Rainier, the North Ridge of Mount Baker, and more technical objectives in the Alaska Range. The course reinforced how foundational ice skills support success on big mountain routes.


(Photos/Raymond Holt)
One of the most valuable aspects of the experience was working closely with other RMI guides. I feel lucky to work alongside side guides like Ray and Calvin who’s passion for the craft reflects that of RMI’s guide team. If you have been lucky enough to share the rope with these two, their character speaks for itself. When a member of the public joins an RMI program, they benefit from guides who are aligned not only in technical systems, but also in teaching philosophy and decision-making under pressure.
Weeks like this reinforce why I’m proud to be part of programs that value ongoing education and teamwork. A very big thank you to RMI’s management for the support, Colorado based RMI guides who helped us prepare and allowed us to stay with them for the duration of the course, and of course the AMGA Instructor Team.

Written by RMI Expeditions Guide Layne Peters.
This fall, I had the chance to take the AMGA Rock Guide Course alongside a group of fellow RMI guides plus one colorado mountain guide. Spending a week immersed in climbing, anchors, and rescue systems with people I already work with on Mt. Rainier made the experience way more meaningful than I expected.
It wasn’t just another training course — it felt like an investment in the way we work together as a team.

Usually, AMGA courses bring together guides from all over — different companies, regions, and styles. But this one was different. Every participant, with the exception of one, was a guide from RMI. We already knew how each other moved in the mountains, how we communicated, and what it meant to trust one another with a rope.
That familiarity let us dive straight into learning. There was no awkward first-day feeling — just a crew of guides eager to sharpen skills we use every day on Rainier. Whether we were building complex anchors or running through rescue scenarios, the lessons always circled back to our work on the mountain.
It was cool to see how the systems we practiced on rock apply directly to glacier guiding. Belay transitions and rope management mirrored the efficiency we need during crevasse rescues. Anchoring principles connected perfectly to snow and ice protection. Every day, I found myself thinking, “Yeah — this is going to make me better on Rainier.”

One of the biggest takeaways was how much we learned from each other. When you guide together, you see each other at work — on summit days, in bad weather, managing clients — but rarely do you get to slow down and talk through the finer points of technique and decision-making.
The course created that space. We broke down systems, compared habits, and saw firsthand how each of us handles pressure. It was like watching a behind-the-scenes version of our guiding style — and it gave me a deeper respect for the people I climb with.
You can’t really fake trust in the mountains, and doing this course together reinforced it. I left feeling even more confident in my teammates — not just their technical ability, but their judgment, their calm, and their communication.
By the end of the week, it was clear that what we learned on the rock wasn’t staying there. The efficiency we practiced building anchors transfers directly to glacier travel. The rescue drills mirror what we do in crevasse systems. Even just thinking through client management and transitions has huge value on big alpine climbs.
It’s easy to think of professional development as checking boxes or earning credentials, but this course was way more than that. It reminded me that guiding is a craft — something you can always refine. And doing that alongside people who share the same goals and terrain made it all the more worthwhile.
I left the course feeling proud — not just of what we learned, but of the kind of guides we’re becoming together. There’s something special about learning with the same crew you’ll be roped up with at 14,000 feet on Rainier.
We came away better technically, sure, but also tighter as a team. More in sync. More thoughtful about how we move and communicate. And in the guiding world, that matters just as much as all the rest.
]]>Let’s be honest: no one wakes up ready for glaciated ridges, 2 a.m. starts, or that final hour when your legs feel like overcooked noodles. The bridge between where you are today and where you want to be on bigger mountains is built, step by step, with time on trail. That is exactly why trekking shines. It is accessible, it is high-value training for the body and mind, and it delivers an adventure that stands on its own.
Below, we’ll cover why trekking is such powerful preparation for mountaineering, how it builds real expedition skills, why many climbers treat treks as “low-risk altitude labs,” and where RMI treks fit into that progression.
Trekking stacks long, steady efforts over varied terrain. That is the sweet spot for improving aerobic capacity and muscular endurance, which in turn supports better pacing and decision-making on summit pushes. Research shows hiking/trekking improves cardiovascular health and muscle endurance, especially when routes include hills and uneven surfaces that challenge balance and stabilizers.
Carrying a backpack for hours at moderate intensity trains your posture, hips, and core in ways a stationary bike cannot. Load carriage research highlights the unique respiratory and metabolic demands of walking uphill with a pack, which is exactly what you will do on approach days and during glacier travel. The goal is not maximal weight, but consistent, good-form time under load to adapt connective tissue and reduce injury risk.
Nature time reduces stress, improves mood and attention, and helps you recover psychologically from hard training blocks. That matters. Calm brains make better decisions when the weather turns or plans change at altitude. Systematic reviews and position statements consistently show meaningful mental health benefits from nature-based activity like trekking.

One of the smartest reasons to trek before a mountaineering objective is to learn how your body responds to elevation without the pressure of a summit clock. Wilderness Medical Society guidelines emphasize gradual ascent, “climb high, sleep low” strategies, and rest days to lower the risk of acute mountain sickness. Classic trekking itineraries make that cadence natural.
You will practice the fundamentals that really move the needle at altitude: slow pacing, steady hydration, and honest self-monitoring for headache, nausea, or sleep disruption. That experience transfers directly to bigger climbs later on. Practical advice from alpine organizations echoes this approach, including building in extra acclimatization days and, when possible, using nearby peaks to pre-acclimatize before a higher objective.
Learning your sustainable “all-day” pace is gold. Treks teach you to read your breathing and legs, not your ego, and to fuel before you fade. Those habits keep rope teams efficient when the terrain turns technical.
Multi-day travel forces discipline around sleep, foot care, layering, sun protection, and hydration. These are the quiet skills that prevent small problems from ending big objectives.
You’ll move in wind, rain, heat, and cool mornings. You’ll make thousands of micro-decisions about traction, balance, and poles. That familiarity lowers cognitive load when you later add ropework or crampons.
On long treks, groups become teams. You’ll practice communication, honest check-ins, and that gentle nudge that keeps everyone moving. Those social skills matter just as much on summit pushes as a perfect figure-eight.

Each trek below can be an end goal or a strategic stepping stone toward bigger climbs. We’ve noted what each tends to build particularly well.
Kilimanjaro is the world’s highest freestanding mountain and a classic high-altitude trek with little glacier travel. Expect big aerobic days and textbook acclimatization, with a summit push that rewards smart pacing and steady nutrition. It is ideal for learning how your body handles 5,000+ meters while practicing camp routines and recovery day to day.
A cultural and altitude masterclass rolled into one. EBC’s gradual ascent profile, rest days, and “climb high, sleep low” side hikes mirror best-practice acclimatization guidance. You will refine layering, hydration, and pacing at elevations where many people first feel the real effects of thin air.
Quieter than the main EBC corridor and equally rich in altitude practice. Crossing high passes and visiting the turquoise Gokyo Lakes demands consistent pacing and solid nutrition strategies. The views from Gokyo Ri are a powerful “internal summit” moment and a confidence boost for future mountaineering.
Think “endurance and culture.” Long trail days at moderate to high elevation polish aerobic capacity, footwork on stone steps, and recovery routines. It is a perfect build phase for climbers, and an unforgettable standalone adventure for trekkers.
Wind, weather, and long mileage days in world-class scenery. Patagonia teaches you to adapt quickly, protect calories and warmth, and stay positive when the forecast has “character.” Strong expedition self-care here pays dividends on future alpine routes.
Plenty of athletes choose trekking as the finish line, not just a training block. That choice makes total sense. Treks deliver immersive travel, culture, and big-landscape awe without the technical risks of mountaineering. They are physically honest, mentally restorative, and deeply social. The science backs that up, too: time in nature improves mood and reduces stress while you build durable, low-impact fitness that supports health for years.
Trekking is not “just hiking.” It is targeted endurance work, high-value altitude learning, and a masterclass in expedition self-care. It builds the engine and the habits that carry you when a glacier, a headlamp, and your own grit are all you have. Whether your dream is a high camp sunrise on a big mountain or a lifetime of trail-first travel, trekking moves you there, one steady day after another.
If you are mapping your path, start with an itinerary that excites you: a cultural arc to Everest Base Camp or Gokyo, a wind-polished week in Torres del Paine, a bucket-list push on Kilimanjaro, or a history-rich walk to Machu Picchu. Treat it as both adventure and training. Your future self, standing higher, calmer, and more prepared, will be very glad you did.
In mountaineering, success isn’t just measured by tagging summits — it’s about returning safely, making good decisions under pressure, and preserving the space between what’s possible and what’s wise. We won’t ever be able to control precisely what happens in the mountains, or negate risk entirely, but we can hedge our bets with a proven tool, a margin of safety.
This margin of safety is what keeps climbers alive in unpredictable, high-consequence environments. Let’s look at what it means, how to create it on the mountain, and how RMI makes it the foundation of every climb.
At its core, a margin of safety is a buffer between capacity and risk. It’s the cushion you leave for error, bad luck, or the unexpected.
The concept is universal. Engineers call it a factor of safety — designing a bridge or skyscraper to withstand far more stress than it will ever face in normal use. Pilots don’t load just enough fuel to reach their destination; they carry reserves in case of delays or diversions. Surgeons plan procedures with contingencies for complications. Investors avoid putting all their capital into a single stock, keeping extra cushion to absorb shocks.
The principle is the same across disciplines: build in more than you think you need, because reality is unpredictable.
Mountains simply make the stakes more immediate. A margin of safety on a climb isn’t an abstract number on a blueprint or a balance sheet — it’s a decision that can mean the difference between coming home or not. On the mountain, this margin might look like setting an earlier turnaround time, carrying extra insulation in case of an unplanned bivy, or stopping short of the summit when the weather or snowpack erases your buffer.
Margins don’t appear by accident — they’re created through preparation, awareness, and choices in the moment. And the best way to understand them is to connect mountaineering examples to everyday industries where safety margins are more familiar.
In climbing, moving too slowly eats away at your margin; energy, weather, and daylight are all finite resources. Guides make decisions in real time based on shifting conditions, the forecast, and the strength of the team.
Just like a pilot carries extra fuel, we aim to preserve a buffer of time and energy, not because we always expect to use it, but because the mountains often demand flexibility. Building and protecting that margin ensures enough capacity for a safe descent and recognizes that the summit is only one step in the bigger objective: returning safely.
Snow bridges, rockfall, and storms are the mountain’s way of narrowing your buffer. Climbers who push ahead in deteriorating conditions are like drivers ignoring a “low fuel” light in the desert — technically possible to continue, but leaving no room for error. A margin of safety means recognizing when conditions have closed the gap too far and turning back before risk overtakes reason.
Redundancy is margin. Carrying an extra headlamp, a backup layer, or a few hundred more calories than you expect can feel excessive until the climb takes longer than planned. In aviation, planes are built with multiple redundant systems for the same reason — if one fails, the backup prevents catastrophe. On the mountain, your “backup system” may be as simple as dry gloves or a second light source.
One climber’s condition can shift the margin for everyone. A fatigued rope-mate, poor pacing, or altitude issues can slow the group and increase exposure to hazards. In medicine, this is like a surgical team pausing a procedure if one member notices something wrong — the decision protects the patient, even if it means stepping back. While this can often mean a turnaround decision for a small climbing team, at RMI, we utilize our ratios and guide training to help as many climbers summit as possible, even if some need to turn around.
One of the greatest threats to a margin of safety isn’t physical — it’s psychological. Ian McCammon’s landmark study on avalanche accidents revealed how heuristics (mental shortcuts) lead climbers into danger. The familiarity heuristic makes us trust terrain we’ve seen before, even if conditions are different. The commitment heuristic convinces us to keep going simply because we’ve already invested so much time and energy. These traps appear everywhere in life — like investors holding onto a failing stock because they’ve already “sunk” money into it. Recognizing these tendencies is the first step in countering them and preserving your safety buffer.
“I could see the summit up ahead and my hazy mental math told me that I would be there in less than two hours if I maintained the same pace. The only problem was that I hadn't felt my toes in quite some time and no amount of stomping or swinging my legs had helped. Without any other option, I got out my shovel, dug a human sized hole in the slope and climbed in. Taking off my boots, I massaged my numb feet, but the feeling just wouldn't come back. No matter how hard I rubbed the tips of my toes were still white.
I sat there trying to manifest feeling and convince my commitment-to-safety that two more hours wouldn't cost me my toes, but I knew the truth. After what felt like an eternity of internal struggle I put my boots back on, radioed my teammates and started to walk back down the ridge toward camp. That walk was one of the longest of my life. It wasn't just how slowly I moved, it was the pace of coming to terms with my decision- I was 43 days into my first Himalayan expedition and I turned around less than 100 vertical meters from the summit. The trip had cost most of my life savings, and the six months of hard training leading up to it had convinced me I was ready for the challenge. My climbing career had mostly been filled with summits, and it was the first time I ever had to make a decision of that scale.
I've turned around on plenty of climbs, for a multitude of reasons, in the years since then, but my mind often goes to that day when I'm weighing options. I'm still able to climb and guide with ten toes today because I made the hard, but correct choice that day.”- Eric Frank, RMI Guide
Adjusting Your Margin
Always remember that your required margins of safety can change from climb to climb; on climbs or in conditions with greater uncertainty, your margins should increase.
At RMI, creating a margin of safety isn’t an afterthought — it’s built into every climb. While clients may not see the behind-the-scenes systems, they benefit from the discipline, culture, and training that underpin RMI’s operations.
RMI was the first guide service on Mount Rainier to implement an OSHA-recognized Safety Committee. We’ve also undergone and excelled in Washington Labor & Industries voluntary safety audits. These initiatives don’t just satisfy regulations — they demonstrate a culture where risk is managed proactively, not reactively.
Every RMI guide goes through rigorous training in technical skills, but also in risk management and decision-making. They learn to recognize the subtle signs of hypothermia, altitude illness, or exhaustion in clients — often before clients notice it themselves. This foresight allows them to call for rests, pace adjustments, or even turnarounds before the margin of safety disappears.
Margins are also built into our ratios, pacing, and route planning. RMI guides are empowered to make conservative calls when needed, prioritizing safety over summits. The expectation is not to squeeze out every possible vertical foot, but to preserve an appropriate safety margin for the team.
Being part of a High Reliability Organization means small errors aren’t ignored — they’re logged, learned from, and used to strengthen the system. At RMI, guides and supervisors foster a culture where raising concerns is encouraged, and the hard decision to turn back is respected as the hallmark of professionalism.
Margins of safety don’t make climbs less adventurous — they make them more sustainable. Every climber eventually faces the choice between pressing on or turning back. The difference between tragedy and a story worth retelling often lies in how much margin you had when the decision came.
For RMI, those margins aren’t just abstract — they’re the reason our teams continue to climb safely, year after year. Because while summits are optional, coming home isn’t.

This last weekend, I tried for a summit attempt on the north side of Mount Hood. I felt strong, confident in my climbing, and was with a great group. When we made the call to turn around just under 10,000 feet because of overhead hazard, I was a little bummed. Still, I was also incredibly grateful for the situational awareness of my climbing partners and the good times we had already had.
If you spend enough time in the mountains, you’ll eventually face the climb where you don’t reach the top. It can happen to anyone (novice or seasoned alpinist) and it’s one of the most humbling realities of mountaineering. Success in the mountains isn’t defined solely by standing on a summit. It’s also about making smart decisions, staying safe, and learning along the way.
Here’s how to think about, and deal with, not summiting, whether the factors are within your control or entirely out of your hands.
Mountaineering environments are ripe for cognitive traps. Heuristics (mental shortcuts we use to make decisions) can cloud judgment when stakes are high and adrenaline is pumping. Ian McCammon, an internationally recognized expert on accident avoidance has identified common decision-making errors such as the “familiarity heuristic” (choosing what feels comfortable over what is safe) and “commitment heuristic” (pressing on because you’ve already invested time and effort). Being aware of these tendencies can help climbers pause and reassess more rationally. The key is to stay objective, especially when emotions are running high.
There are plenty of variables you can influence before and during a climb. Fitness, gear, nutrition, hydration, and mindset; these are all your responsibility. Underestimating the physical demands of a big alpine day or failing to stay hydrated and fueled can lead to exhaustion and mistakes that jeopardize the climb. Staying proactive about your self-care helps you and your team.
But then there are the factors no climber can control. Weather windows, avalanche hazard, rockfall, route conditions, and the decisions of others on the mountain can all conspire to shut down a summit attempt. For example, deteriorating snow bridges or high winds can close off a viable route overnight on Mount Rainier. Even the most prepared climbers sometimes turn around because the risks outweigh the rewards. As climber and former RMI Guide Ed Viesturs said, “Getting to the top is optional. Getting down is mandatory.”
Not summiting stings. But it doesn’t have to define your experience.
One of the best ways to handle a change of plans is to reframe what “success” looks like before you even clip into a rope. Research from Harvard Business Review on building resilience emphasizes the importance of seeing setbacks as part of the growth process; feedback, not failure.
Mountains aren’t just for standing on top of; they’re for being in. Gritty ice underfoot. Wind tearing at tents. The silence of early morning snowfields. The way a group of strangers becomes a team. These are real wins, even if you don’t get the perfect summit photo.
"Although the mountain’s infamous weather system ultimately prevented our team from making a summit bid, we are deeply satisfied with the gifts that The Great One has provided us. We were awed by the austere beauty of the Kahiltna and and vastness of the surrounding peaks and ridges. We were pushed to our limits and learned to dig deeper than ever before; whether it be cramponing on blue ice, being blown around on Windy Corner, struggling with all things altitude, or keeping our extremities warm in -40F windchill. We - a group of strangers prior to May 13 - became not only friends but teammates, encouraging each other in our hardest times, cheering each others’ successes, and cracking the most ridiculous and obscene jokes all day and late into the night."
- RMI Climber Grace, on Mount McKinley, 2025
Experienced guides often recognize warning signs long before a climber does: the early fog of hypothermia, the shift from fatigue to dangerous exhaustion, the way someone’s stride changes when they’re hitting a wall. In a group setting, the guide isn’t just watching one climber; they’re managing an acceptable margin of safety for the entire team. That means, tough as it is to hear, your summit attempt might end early if your pace or actions are putting others in danger.
Their job isn’t to push you to the top, no matter what. It’s to bring you home safely, and to make the call when the mountain says no.
“One of the inspiring and simultaneously frustrating pieces of mountaineering is that no climb is the same. The complexity of the route, matrix of risks, and physical demand continually change. What worked on one climb may not in a subsequent one. Those differences are what keep you in the moment and are a critical component of the reward.”
- Pete Van Deventer, RMI Expeditions Guide
Having a professional at the helm allows you to focus on your own experience while they keep the bigger picture in mind.
Sometimes the climb that teaches you the most is the one that ends just shy of the top. Every step on the mountain, even the ones that turn back, is part of a bigger journey toward becoming a more vigorous, more self-aware climber.
Sources
At 64 years old, Brent Okita has done something no one else ever has: he’s stood on the summit of Mount Rainier for the 600th time. That new world record alone is staggering. But it doesn’t tell the whole story, not even close.

Brent has been guiding with RMI Expeditions since 1986. That’s nearly four decades of early alpine starts, whiteout navigation, bluebird summits, and shoulder-season storms. It’s thousands of clients coached up the Muir Snowfield, hundreds of rope teams safely guided down Disappointment Cleaver, and an untold number of wise decisions that kept people safe, calm, and moving upward.
He’s summited Rainier more than anyone in history. When asked how he feels on the summit, Brent said:
“It feels great, we have perfect weather up here and a perfect group and I couldn’t be happier.”

Brent’s reputation in the guiding world goes far beyond Rainier. He summited Everest in 1991 via the North Ridge (the same line climbed by Mallory and Irvine in 1924) and returned in 2001 as part of the famed Mallory-Irvine Search Expedition. He has guided 23 consecutive successful McKinley expeditions in Denali National Park, led climbs on the Vinson Massif in Antarctica, Mont Blanc, the Matterhorn, and mountains around the world. But Mount Rainier has always been home base.
There’s something fitting about that. Rainier isn’t just a proving ground for new alpinists; it’s a teacher. It rewards patience, consistency, and care. Brent has made a life of listening to that mountain.
He’s also helped shape what it means to be an RMI guide. As a Senior Guide and longtime Supervisor, Brent has mentored generations of young guides, passing down not just rope systems and crampon techniques, but the values that define our work: humility, precision, compassion, and perseverance.
When asked if he has any advice for future guides, Brent said:
"Guides, pay attention to what's happening out there... it's the details that really matter. I think that's why I've had such a successful life; I pay attention to the details."
Ask any guide who’s worked a climb with Brent, and you’ll hear the same thing: he leads by example. Quietly. Steadily. With the kind of grace that’s earned, not taught.

Climbing Rainier 600 times means spending close to two years of your life above 10,000 feet. It means learning every subtle shift in the glacier’s surface. It means knowing how the sun hits the Cleaver in late June and where to find shelter in a whiteout at 13,000 feet. But most of all, it means showing up, day after day, year after year, with care, professionalism, and joy.
Back in 2016, when Brent completed his 500th summit of Rainier, someone asked him if retirement was on the horizon. His answer? “I’ll keep guiding for the foreseeable future.” This time, when asked what's next, Brent said:
"More climbing, more Mount Rainier, it's what I do!"
Over hundreds of climbs, Brent has built more than a record; he’s built relationships. For many clients, their time with Brent on the mountain is transformative, not just because of the summit, but because of who was leading the way.
Dan Kemp recalls a moment when Brent made the tough call to turn back due to unsafe conditions. "I know we could have made it to the top," he said, "but Brent didn’t like how unsafe the second route was. I admire that." That trust in his judgment is a consistent theme across client stories.
Mark Tellez described him as "everything you would hope for in a mountain guide," adding, "He had our trust on the mountain. He is understanding but also firm when required to keep folks moving and things safe."
For James Huggins, the impact was deeply personal. "There was just something about him that made me feel like this was going to work out," he wrote. "His calm, straightforward and subtle humor resonated with me... Having him embrace me at the crater was a moment I’ll never forget."
These are the proof that Brent (and all our guides) impact goes far beyond statistics. He builds confidence, fosters camaraderie, and turns big mountain experiences into lifelong memories.

For all of us at RMI, Brent’s 600th summit isn’t just a personal achievement; it’s a moment of reflection and gratitude. It reminds us what’s possible when passion meets purpose. When experience is paired with humility. When a lifetime of small, thoughtful decisions adds up to something extraordinary.
We’re proud to call Brent a colleague, a mentor, and a friend. And we’re honored to celebrate this milestone with the broader mountaineering community. Because while summits may be counted one at a time, legacies are built over seasons, years, and relationships forged on the rope.
Congratulations, Brent. And thank you for kicking the steps, the teaching, and the example you’ve set for all of us.
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