Cat Litter on Mount Shasta

Climbing Mount ShastaTopped by snow and glaciers,instead of the tent. The edges pulled loose in the
Mount Shasta rises up above everything else whenwind again and again, until we pinned down one side
you approach it from the north.As soon as I saw it, Iwith heavy rocks, and wrapped the other side
wanted to be up there. We were coming south fromaround us. Dust blew in, despite the tight wrap and
Oregon, after driving across the country fromrain. I was enjoying the adventure more than John,
Michigan. A detour to northern California beforewho was very quiet. So I talked until he fell
heading home seemed like a good idea to both ofasleep.Climbing Mount Shasta"Apparently they start
us."I wonder if we could climb it?" I asked. John justvery early," John grumbled. It was dark, but there
nodded his head quietly, agreeing not to the climb,were lights and noise from the tents around us. I
but to the fact that he was wondering the samestood up, and I saw lights on the mountain a
thing. I checked the map. Mount Shasta is 14,162 feetthousand up. It was 5:30 a.m. Hmm... climbers start
above sea level. I liked the idea of climbing thatearly. With that new insight, we packed our
high."Have you ever climbed a mountain," John askeddaypacks, hid our big backpacks in the rocks, and
me. I thought about it for a while. "Not really. A lot ofstepped onto the ice.Helen Lake was a mile of ups
hills though."Mount Shasta City"Oh yes," the oldand downs, through sun-dished ice. Then we reached
woman at the visitor's center told us, "people climbthe loose rock at the base of a steep slope, in
Mount Shasta all the time." John pointed out theAvalanche Gully. We started climbing Mount Shasta.
glaciers on the map she had given us. "Oh, well, didan hour later, we quit."I can't do it," John gasped.
you bring crampons and ice axes?" John looked at"Can't get enough air." We were at about 11,000
me, and I could only say, "I've heard of thesefeet, and we knew there was less oxygen, but this
things."We did have some gear: backpacks, sleepingwas the first time John had actually been this high on
bags, and a tent. John had good hiking boots, butfoot. I once drove higher in Colorado, but apparently
mine were more like high-top shoes. Neither of usdriving wasn't a strenuous enough for me to notice
had ever used crampons or an ice axe, so we wentthe thinner air. I noticed it here. We both did. We sat
the few blocks across town to see what the guy atdown and rested for a minute."Are you sure," I
the climbing store had to say."Have you done anyasked. He was - I wasn't. It was light now, and John
climbing before?" he asked us."A little," I answered,didn't see any problem hiking down the four hours to
remembering the buildings we used to climb on asthe car alone. I would go on to the summit, and then
teenagers, and the rocks we had recently scrambledcome back down by evening. I had to continue.
up in Oregon. I figured we were ready for MountMount Shasta was my first mountain, and I hadn't
Shasta."Well, you can't put crampons on thoseeven used the poop bag yet.Altitude SicknessThe
boots," he said to John, "and you sure can't put them"Red Bank" is a line of broken cliffs above Avalanche
on those," he told me, shaking his head at my shoes.Gully. I scrambled, climbed, slipped on ice, and
Crampons apparently need rigid boots - oureventually found a way up and over. Then there
mountaineering lesson of the day. We could rentwere long steep slopes covered in loose rocks, with
them, but only if we rented real mountaineeringa few bamboo sticks marking the way. My route
boots also. "And you'll need ice axes, of course." I feltconverged with that of the other climbers, who had
a pain in my wallet.Backpacking On Mount Shastacome up the snow-slope route with crampons and
(Too Poor For Climbing)A speeding ticket in Northice axes.After much climbing, I finally made it to the
Dakota had strained the budget, and Mount Shastasummit, which is called Misery hill, because it isn't
was another detour from the route and the budget.actually the summit. It just seems like it should be.
We could, we decided, hike up the mountain and doThere was still a mile of snow to cross, and then
a little backpacking. Still, I had to ask, "Do peoplemore rocky terrain. One snow field had
climb Shasta without gear?" The store owner realizedthree-foot-high peaks covering it, like a huge
that the sale was lost."It's been done," he answeredmerange pie.I rested a moment, and realized I'd been
impatiently."It's been done," I reminded John as wehearing a new sound. Bang! Bang! Bang! It was the
drove up the road to Mount Shasta. He didn'tinside of my head, which had never been so loud
answer, which was a good sign. I watched the Pinebefore. Hmm...interesting. I got used to the noise and
trees go by, and absentmindedly poked a fingerpain after an hour or so.I got used to the smell of
through a hole in my shoe."Old Ski Bowl Trailhead,"sulphur too. Mount Shasta, it turns out, is a volcano.
John said. I looked over at the sign. "7,900 feet." WeWhen John Muir climbed it more than a hundred
were at the trailhead, along with forty other cars,years earlier, he had to huddle next to the hot
and it was early enough to hit the trail.Mount Shastasulphur gas vents to survive a night near the peak.
Poop BagsWe looked at the registration forms, andHe was alternately freezing and burning.At The Top
had a decision to make. There was a $10 fee to hikeOf Mount Shasta"So this is the top?" I mumbled
or climb above "Horse Camp," at 8,400 feet. Johnlamely to the guy who had just told me the John
pointed to a pile of paper bags, each with a handfulMuir story. Clouds, and smoke from forest fires,
of cat litter in it, and a plastic bag to put it in. Theseobscured the view in every direction, but it felt good
were for carrying our excrement off the mountain, ato be so high, and down to the east, I saw my first
requirement above 10,000 feet. That clinched it. Weglacier, a few hundred feet below."You can write
put $10 each in the envelope and dropped it in theyour name in the register there," the guy told me,
slot. We couldn't pass up the opportunity to poop inpointing to something in the rocks. Guestbooks on
a bag in the mountains. I took two for myself, intop of mountains? Another lesson for the day. I
case of good luck.An easy trail took us to the hutsigned in, wrote some comment, and started down
and spring at Horse Camp. We filled our waterthe mountain.Sun cups, or whatever they call those
bottles. The dayhikers looked up at the mountaindepresions in the snow, fill with water in the warm
through cameras, while the climbers cooked noodlesafternoon sun - another discovery. I'd climb out of
and discussed weather reports. They looked at myone ten-foot-wide bowl and slide into the pond at
shoes and smiled at each other when I mentionedthe bottom of the next. This was the pattern until I
we might climb Mount Shasta.After Horse Camp thethankfully reached the ankle-twisting mile of rocks
trail gets steeper and rockier. The trees end at aboutpiled up below Helen Lake. Climbing down, I realized, is
8,500 feet, leaving only grasses, flowers, and othermore difficult than climbing up, or at least more
tundra plants. Then the trail gets lost in the rocksdangerous.I found the trail, my headache disappeared,
just before the steep climb up to Helen Lake.WindI reached the road, where John was waiting. By
And Rain At Helen LakeThere is no lake. Helen lake isevening we were driving towards Michigan, Mount
a more-or-less level area of snow and ice. At theShasta hidden in the clouds and smoke behind us. Oh,
edge, overlooking Horse Camp far below, there areand yes, I did get to use the poop bag. Somewhere
dusty clearings in the rocks where the climbers camp.around 11,500 feet, I think, which I remembered
We found an empty spot and we set up camp. Thewhen I was looking through my pack. "Pull over at
wind was howling. We were at 10,440 feet.Aboutthe nearest garbage can," I told John.Steve Gillman is
the time the rain started, I realized it might havea long-time backpacker, and advocate ultralight
been a bad idea to talk John into bringing only a tarp,backpacking.