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After a three-year hiatus, the Mazamas will resume the annual Used Equipment Sale (UES). Mark your calendars for March 3, 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. at the Mazama Mountaineering Center in SE Portland.

As with many activities making a comeback after COVID, this event will be a bit different. The 2023 UES will be run as a fundraiser for the Mazamas and a way to make the purchase of gear more affordable for our BCEP students, Mazama members, and the greater Portland community.

What that means is the Mazamas will not be accepting gear on consignment to sell on behalf of members as the organization has in the past. We understand people looked forward to the UES as a way to make money on their used equipment, and while we hope you will consider making tax-deductible donations to the Mazamas, we understand if you prefer to explore other avenues.

“We believe this change better reflects our mission to inspire everyone to protect and love mountains,” says Interim Executive Director Kaleen Deatherage. “Historically this event raised about $15,000, and the organization would make about $3,000 from it. Given our current fiscal situation and our desire to eliminate barriers to entry to the outdoors, like expensive gear, we felt that recentering the event as a fundraiser for the Mazamas makes sense for this year.”

Please be thinking of used gear and equipment you’d love to pass along.

• Outdoor clothes
• Boots
• Books
• Nordic/Cross Country (XC), telemark skis, randonee and related gear (e.g. boots, poles)
• Climbing gear
• Camping gear (e.g. stoves, water purifiers
• Backpacks
• Tents
• Snowshoes
• Bicycling accesories (e.g. helmets, clothes)
• Car Rack systems

The Mazamas is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit, and the fair market value of donated items may be tax deductible. We likely will have multiple dates in advance of March 3 for items to be dropped off at the Mazama Mountaineering Center. Stay tuned. The Mazamas will dispose/distribute any items not sold and provide donors with a tax donation receipt.

By Jenny Baer Tuohy, Stoel Rives LLP 

The Mazamas board of directors asked me to review and assess the bylaws and governance structure of Mazamas, an Oregon public benefit nonprofit corporation that is recognized by the IRS as a 501(c)(3) public charity. In this memo, I address the ways in which the current Mazamas bylaws and governance structure may be out of step with current practices with other 501(c)(3) organizations, run discordant with Oregon’s current nonprofit laws and IRS guidance, and pose potential governance and conflict of interest risks.  To remedy these issues, I would advise Mazamas amend its bylaws as discussed in this memo.

Importance of Bylaws and Governance Maintenance 

            Mazamas last updated its bylaws in 2017, though the structure and basic principles appear to be much older. It is important for Mazamas to keep its bylaws in step with current law and best practices for many reasons, including the following:

• Maintenance of Tax-Exempt Status. The IRS recognizes Mazamas as a tax-exempt 501(c)(3) public benefit nonprofit organization. In order to maintain this status, it is important that Mazamas continues to keep good governance practices and operate exclusively in furtherance of its nonprofit mission, as described to the IRS as to “promote mountaineering through education, climbing, hiking, fellowship, safety and the exploration and protection of mountain environments.” 501(c)(3) organizations must operate exclusively for a public benefit are prohibited from conferring significant benefits upon any private individuals or groups of individuals. It is important that the Mazamas governance documents accurately reflect Mazamas’ operation for the benefit of the public and not for the benefit of its members or any other private individuals.

• Conformity with Current Oregon Law. Nonprofit organizations in Oregon are governed by the Oregon Nonprofit Corporation Act (the “Act”). The Act was revised by the Oregon legislature in 2020 and, while organizations are not required to update their bylaws when the statute is updated, we recommend that nonprofits do so to ensure that practices are conforming with the current Oregon law. There are a number of provisions in the amended Act that provide organizations with increased flexibility and assist in good governance practices.

• Avoiding Confusion and Internal Disputes. It is important for nonprofit organizations to have clearly written and easily digestible bylaws. Nonprofit organizations should be able to refer to their bylaws for clear answers on a number of corporate governance questions, ranging from manner of notice that must be given prior to a meeting to quorum requirements for passing measures. A lack of clarity can lead to internal and external disputes over procedural or substantive matters. The current Mazamas bylaws are relatively unclear and difficult to interpret, particularly as compared to other organizations of similar size and sophistication. As discussed in more detail below, there is a lack of clarity in some major provisions such as quorum requirements and director roles. Some terminology in the bylaws is also confusing – for example, all Oregon nonprofit organizations are required to have a board of directors, but the current bylaws instead call this governing body the “executive council.” The level of authority of the board is also vague and unclear, which runs counter to Oregon law. This lack of clarity increases the chance that the organization will be out of compliance with its own bylaws, potentially invalidating actions. It also leads to an increased risk of internal disputes over governance procedures.

• Maintaining Compliance with Bylaws. It is important for a nonprofit organization to be operating in compliance with its bylaws. However, the Mazamas bylaws include a number of outdated provisions, compliance with which may pose a challenge. One example is that the bylaws do not provide for electronic board or member meetings and contemplate only in-person meetings. The Mazamas bylaws should reflect the organization’s current and anticipated future governance practices and be a living document setting forth corporate procedures with which the organization complies.  

Proposed Amended and Restated Bylaws

We propose that Mazamas adopt the attached restated bylaws to bring its governance structure up to date and into compliance with current nonprofit law and best practices. The proposed restated bylaws are based on the current Mazamas bylaws and are tailored to the Mazamas needs and structure, but they track the current Oregon nonprofit law. Restating the bylaws in their entirety allows Mazamas to go forward with a clear and concise document.

The chart below is a summary of the significant changes to the Mazamas bylaws presented by the proposed restatement:

Issue	Current Bylaws	Proposed Restated Bylaws	Section
Confusion of roles and responsibilities between directors/executive council and members	Under Oregon law and IRS rules, all nonprofit organizations must be governed by a board of directors. However, the Mazamas bylaws do not clearly define the board and its role and responsibilities. Instead, the current bylaws provide for an “executive council” and include confusing statements, implying that not all “directors” serve on the “executive council.” A board of directors is vital to the governance of a nonprofit organization and essential to its legal validity, so these confusing provisions should be cleaned up and clarified	“Executive council” has been replaced with a “board of directors.” Language regarding director roles and responsibilities has been clarified throughout the document. In particular, Section 4.1 provides that the board shall “exercise, or delegate… all corporate powers and shall direct the management of the Mazamas’ affairs…”	Section 4
Limited board authority is contrary to Oregon law	The role of a board of directors of a nonprofit corporation is to serve as fiduciaries and steer the organization towards a sustainable future by adopting sound policies and ensuring adequate resources to further the nonprofit’s mission. Under Oregon law, the board of directors must “exercise, or delegate … all corporate powers and shall direct the management of the corporation’s affairs” (ORS 65.301). The IRS requires that a 501(c)(3) organization have a board of directors and encourages “active and engaged” boards.   The Mazamas bylaws do not appear to acknowledge the level of authority that the board of directors holds over the organization under Oregon law and IRS rules. The description of the board’s authority in the current bylaws (to “conduct the general business of Mazamas”) is more akin to a role that one would typically see for an executive director or officer. The current bylaws further limit the board’s authority by stating that the board may “make policies and procedures that deal only with administrative matters.” It is unclear what this means, and it likely runs contrary to Oregon law.	Language has been updated throughout to clarify that the board of directors holds authority to govern the organization.	Section 4
Member authority impractical	The governance rights of members in the current bylaws appear are impractical for an organization with over 2,000 members. Given the size of the membership base, Mazamas members should be more limited as they will not be actively running the organization.     The current bylaws include multiple provisions regarding the specifics of member dues and payment. We do not recommend including this information in the bylaws, as it is unnecessary and may change from time to time.	The proposed restated bylaws provide that members shall have the right to vote on the election and removal of directors and significant transactions. Members do not exercise general governance over the organization – rather, members elect directors who then govern the organization.   Specifics regarding membership dues and payment have been removed from the bylaws, and the membership classes have been consolidated into a single class (the distinction between classes in the current bylaws are based on dues payments rather than governance rights, and that distinction is not necessary in the bylaws).	Section 2.2
Committee structure	Under Oregon law and IRS rules, the board may establish committees to which it delegates responsibility or that can make recommendations to the board. Oregon’s nonprofit law does not provide for committees of members, and member committees are not able to exercise governance authority (e.g. make budgets, hire staff) without delegation by the board. The committee structure in the current bylaws is problematic because committees are not overseen by the board — they are instead self-perpetuating in that they select their own members. Although member committees may be vital for running the activities and operations of the Mazamas – however, they do not have governance authority over the organization and thus should be organized outside of the bylaws.	Description of membership committees has been removed from proposed bylaws – this should be included in a separate policies and procedures document that can change over time as. Committee structure has been changed so that board has oversight in selection of members to committees. A few standing board committees have been added (executive committee, nominating committee, finance committee).	Section 4.10 – 4.15
Member quorum requirement	The current bylaws require five percent of the voting members for a quorum. Given the large number of members, this is a significant number of people who need to attend a meeting in order to validly take action, including on electing directors.	To avoid a potential roadblock at a member meeting, the proposed bylaws provide that the member votes represented at a meeting constitute a quorum.	Section 3.6
Clarity needed for board and member meeting procedures	The current bylaws have a single Article titled “Meetings” that covers both board and member meetings, and it is not clear what notice and other requirements apply to board versus member meetings. The current bylaws do not explicitly permit the board or members to hold remote meetings or authorize the board to take action by unanimous written consent or email (both of which are allowed under Oregon law). The current bylaws state that “electronic voting [is] permitted,” but do not elaborate on permitted procedures.   The current bylaws also contain confusing language seeming to require notice only to directors who are within a 300-mile radius of Portland, Oregon. Under Oregon law, all directors must receive notice of a meeting no matter where they reside.	The proposed restated bylaws separate the sections regarding board and member meetings and clearly state notice periods that apply. The proposed restated bylaws permit meetings to happen remotely and allow the board to act without a meeting (by unanimous written consent or email). They also remove confusing provisions, including provision re giving notice to directors within a 300-mile radius of Portland.	Section 3 (Member Meetings) Section 6 (Board meetings)
Size of board	The Mazamas board is currently set at nine directors. We suggest that Mazamas increase the size of the board to ensure that the board represents a sufficiently broad public interest and includes people with the required skills and resources to effectively govern the organization, which the IRS considers important for 501(c)(3) organizations.	Proposed restated bylaws increase the size of the board to between nine and thirteen directors. Nine directors would be elected by the members and those people must have been Mazamas members for three years. Up to four directors may be elected by the board and those persons do not need to be members. This allows the board to recruit outside talent and ensure that the board represents a sufficiently broad public interest and holds the skills and resources necessary to effectively govern the organization.	Section 4.4 (Number of Directors) Section 4.6 (Election of Directors)
Director nomination and election process	The bylaws provide that the Nominating Committee must nominate sufficient potential directors such that there is a contested election with six recommended candidates for three slots. This is a bit of an outdated provision and might make it more difficult to recruit interested directors who could add value to the organization if they know they will necessarily be in competition with other nominees. As mentioned above, the IRS considers it important for a 501(c)(3) board to represent a sufficiently broad public interest and the required skills and resources to effectively govern the organization – the Nominating Committee should be nominating the potential directors that it sees as best fit for the director role, as opposed to excess nominees for a contested election.	The proposed bylaws do not require director elections to be contested. As mentioned above, nine directors would be elected by the members and must have been Mazamas members for the past three years, and the board can appoint up to four directors who need not be members.	Section 4.6 (Election of Directors)
Check Signing	The current bylaws require that all checks be signed by two officers – which can be cumbersome for smaller expenditures.	The proposed restated bylaws remove the two-officer approval and provide that the board will adopt a policy regarding signing authority (e.g. approvals needed for expenditures at various dollar thresholds). The board should adopt such a policy in a separate policies and procedures document.	Section 9.3
Update Outdated Terms and Simplify Document	The bylaws contain some outdated and confusing language.  For example, the concept of appointing and using “tellers” for elections and the reference to Roberts Rules of Order.	The proposed bylaws present a modernized form without outdated language or references.	Throughout

 

For the past few years, the Mazamas have been working with other U.S. climbing organizations to establish a set of volunteer climbing educator certifications called the Mountain Leadership Education and Development Program. Mountain LEAD is a set of national climbing and mountaineering standards designed to improve the quality and consistency of volunteer-based climbing education.

Developed by The Mountain Education Alliance (MEA), which is composed of volunteers and staff from The Mazamas, The Mountaineers, the Colorado Mountain Club and the American Alpine Club, the certifications are due to be recognized by the International Climbing and Mountaineering Federation (UIAA). An international audit by UIAA is expected to take place this spring as the Mazamas progresses beyond its pilot program.

Each MEA member organization has developed its own training and certification assessment process to meet the varied needs of their respective organizations.

• The Mazamas generated the first Certified Educator in the country
• The Mazamas have actively trained the most people to the MEA national standards compared with all the other partner organizations combined.
• The Mazamas have implemented training programs for the largest number of the Certified Educator climbing standards that the MEA has created.

“The Mazamas program was designed to be accessible to everyone, rather than just our volunteers,” explains Matt Sundling, who spearheaded the Mazamas’ LEAD efforts. “We’re posed to help climbers from any organization and background to get trained and certified as Certified Educators. This is unique to our program.”

MEA standards ensure students have access to a consistent, safe experience, no matter where they are in the world, no matter what their local affiliation. Mountain LEAD instruction follows the most rigorous safety standards and establish best practices for leadership development and inclusion.

Students can achieve certification in the following categories: Traditional Climbing Educator, Sport Climbing Educator, Top Rope Climbing Educator, Winter Mountain Educator and Summer Mountain Educator.

“We want Mazama volunteers to be their best and also provide the best instruction to others,” Sundling says. “Our participation in the MEA and the development of Mountain LEAD is yet another way the Mazamas seeks to inspire people to love and protect mountains, and in this case everyone recreating on those mountains too.”

By Jesse Applegate, Outgoing Mazama Board President

In April 2022, the Mazamas learned of the new proposal by the Mount Hood National Forest to implement a fee-based climbing permit system for Mount Hood. We are grateful the Forest Service has included the Mazamas along with other local stakeholder groups from guide companies and Search & Rescue organizations to share the Forest’s perspectives, intentions, and to solicit feedback on the proposal.

The Mazamas is in agreement with the Forest in promoting better stewardship throughout Mount Hood National Forest, increasing safety and climbing education, and understands the Forest’s need to collect usage data; however, the Mazamas is opposed to the implementation of permit fees, and would prefer funding through other means at the federal level. 

User fees create a barrier to under-represented groups that is counter to the mission of the Mazamas to inspire everyone to love and protect mountains. Imposing user fees shoulders the burden on individuals for supporting a federal agency that has seen its federal budget and number of personnel steadily reduced over the last 30 years while visitation and outdoor recreation has increased exponentially in the same period —especially in the COVID-19 pandemic. A well-funded Forest Service would benefit local economies beyond the interests of only outdoor recreationists, and the Mazamas would be interested in working with the Forest and other stakeholders to lobby for the restoration of proper funding to accommodate increased visitation and accomplish the goals of increased safety, education, and stewardship.

by Jules Williams

The incline was rapidly increasing below our crampons as the eight of us all looked up, oohing and aahing as the light emerged from behind Mt. Hood. Though we had talked about the climb for weeks, nothing could prepare me for this. I was unprepared for how breathtaking it would all be. How humbling. And how much I would love every minute. Everyone else had been up a mountain before, but this was my first time, ever.

After eight weeks of intensive mountaineering training with my Basic Climbing Education Program (BCEP) team, now I understood: how difficult it was, what discipline it took, how much of a commitment it was, why it was such an accomplishment. Not just standing on the top, but every step to get there. And safely home, as my dad always repeated. 

When I was a little girl and our family friends came over for dinner, we often ended up in the basement watching slideshows of my parents’ peak-bagging heydays. In 1972, my parents transplanted from the east coast and immediately fell in love with the outdoors and joined the Mazamas. They eventually summited Mt. Hood 15 times—give or take a few attempts—along with the other 15 major peaks in the Pacific Northwest, before retiring after a third kid—yours truly—came along. All the slides of endless hiking and climbing up were a bit boring when I was five years old. I liked the pictures with the view from the top the best. 

While circumnavigating the Timberline Trail in 2017, I started dreaming about seeing the view from atop Mt. Hood myself. I had hiked and backpacked a ton, but could I climb mountains? I couldn’t know until I tried. 

Back when my parents taught BCEP in the 1970s there were only a couple thousand or so climbers in the entire U.S. In 2020, there were about 250 applicants to BCEP. I was elated to get accepted to a team, then bummed. The first and last class was on March 9, 2020. The world was officially in a global pandemic. 

My calendar was already reserved for weekly conditioning hikes in April and May, so I found as much elevation as I could while everything was closed that spring, then socially distant ways to adventure all summer, culminating in another Timberline Trail completion. Instead of taking the fall and winter off per usual, I kept hiking on trails with fewer people and more solitude. I was even more excited to get accepted in 2021 and finally be on a team. 

Our first conditioning hike was on a typical grey and breezy early spring morning in the Columbia River Gorge. I was nervous about my sore ankle and felt shy around so many strangers, so I lagged behind the rest of the ten-person BCEP team with one of the assistants. It didn’t take long for my body and heart to start warming up.  

Within five minutes, the assistant started answering my inquisitive questions with “real talk”—I liked her immediately. Divorce, losing parents, family dynamics, career changes, dating, having a family. We had covered all the big stuff in our past, present, and future by the time our team stopped for lunch on Cook Hill overlooking Mt. Hood. 

During the lunch break, we practiced rappelling down the hill from anchors attached to the trees. I easily replicated the completely-new-to-me sequence of steps with knots and gear because I could look and understand. But, the climbing commands repeated verbally just went in one ear and out the other. 

The next morning we had our first indoor rock climbing session at the Mazama Mountaineering Center to learn how to climb, belay, and rappel for real. After a week of online modules, textbook reading, breakout group meetings, working out, hiking, and then climbing, I was pretty pooped by the end of the session. 

“Jules. Hold up! Before I forget,” the assistant said as she walked over. She handed me flashcards that she generously made the evening after our hike so that I could practice the verbal commands on my own. 

Six weeks later at our final indoor practice session, I knew the knots and commands by heart. Now, I was ready to practice the harder stuff, like falling. And the hardest stuff, like trust and dependence. 

I had one more wall to try. Looking up, I saw the assistant nonchalantly leaning back into her harness and ropes on the one-inch thick and four-foot-long plywood ledge of the ice-climbing wall. Just like she was sitting in a hammock—made only of air.

Once I got up there, I immediately nudged my butt and back into the corner. We secured personal protection to the wall for me so I could set up my own rappel. Throughout the program, I specifically asked the instructors not to give me a hand unlocking a tricky carabiner or fixing the rope because I wanted to be capable of doing it all by myself. My mom used to joke that I tried to change my own diaper. 

“Wait, before I rappel, can you show me how to do that?” I asked.

“Do what?” she replied.

“Lean into nothing.”

Even though I had three points of safety, the tears dripped down my face as soon as I leaned back from the wall. Defying all logic, the attachment felt insecure. The assistant, a trauma nurse and a mom, gently reassured me over and over about how each anchor point, knot, and carabiner was attached until I breathed more steadily and sniffled “thank you!” through my face mask. We both giggled.

It was not about the fear of falling. It was about trust. Depending on the anchors—set by others—and the personal protection—set by myself—for safety and support. Asking for and getting help. Being vulnerable to unknown weakness and strength. 

According to Victoria Erickson, “When you’re a mountain person you understand the brilliance and beauty of contradiction. The way land can be your greatest teacher. How something can be both grounding and elevating, intoxicating and soothing, wild yet serene, intensely primal yet patient, and cycling yet predictable within the shifts and rhythms. Mountains keep us on the edge yet wrap us in the sensation of safety all at once. I don’t know of anything sweeter, or more magic-inducing than that.”

Just so, teamwork keeps us on the edge yet wrapped in the sensation of safety all at once. 

Over the next seven weeks, we became a team: Catching mistakes as we safety checked each other’s gear, deciding not to complete a hike when folks didn’t feel well, navigating unclear trails, walking in each other’s snowy footsteps, and learning others’ fears and needs. 

We were in it together. We all applied and were accepted for a Mt. Hood climb, though an unpredictable weather front of high winds and low temperatures moved in on our climb date. We had to be patient. Keep training and preparing. We wouldn’t set foot on the mountain for another two weeks, but the climb had begun. 

The wait was well worth it. It was a perfectly clear night. The sweet, surprisingly warm breezes wafted by like someone just opened the oven door to check on some cookies. And carried the “silent but deadly” sour stink of rotten eggs rising from the dormant volcano’s sulfuric fumaroles.

Around 5:30 a.m. we stopped and watched in awe as the mountain’s shadow spread west across the forest below like a giant awakening, as magical as the crescent of blood orange moon that had risen from the darkness in the east. Or the Milky Way that arched up over us toward the south. Or the twinkling lights of Portland we’d seen toward the west. 

My dad said he always enjoyed the journey of a climb, whereas my mom was driven by the goal of getting to the top. I did both—savored the beauty and worried about the slow progress of our large group. More stops, cautious steps, mild altitude sickness, varying speed. I wondered: How were we going to summit in time?

By 7 a.m. we only had 1,000 more feet to climb—we had covered 80% of the ascent mileage, but still had 80% of the difficulty to go. It was getting riskier by the minute as the sun continued to rise.

We paused in the Devil’s Kitchen to assess. It was only early June and the creek below the snow was shockingly visible with only an ice bridge across the fumaroles. We consulted briefly with another seasoned mountaineer, a father leading his 15-year-old son’s first ascent as they roped up together as a precaution and then promptly set off. There wasn’t much time for deliberation—instead, we needed decisions. Do we keep trying or turn around?

After crossing the Hogsback, we paused at the top of Hot Rocks, looking down the scree field of exposed rock. This was the exact spot where a 64-year-old man died the previous weekend while descending. The circumstances of the 500-foot fall had not yet been publicly released when we climbed. Of the 15,000-20,000 who attempt to climb it, one or two people die on Mt. Hood each year, on average. This was the first death since 2018.  

This mixed extra fear into the excitement as we took the first steps up the crux of the Old Chute. We slowly progressed up the very steep incline following in others’ hardened bootsteps. Several small groups passed us and also returned from the summit to descend. Three skiers started descending above us and knocked small bits of snow debris down the face. We paused so we could communicate with them and assess safety. 

Looking up, I estimated 40 steps to the next traverse that led over the edge and toward the summit, just out of eyesight some 200 feet further up. I turned around and finally really looked down, surprised to see familiar-looking terrain, just like the double black diamond ski runs that scared me while alone, but which I willing followed my older siblings down when I was a kid. 

I heard one of the leaders make the call from below. We were turning around. The debris was the last straw. It was likely safe to proceed, but folks were done. I realized I could safely sit down, say a prayer of gratitude and take a few minutes to take it all in—not just the stunning blue sky view but everything that led up to that moment. Instead of disappointment, I felt fulfilled and capable. The dream came true. The goal was achieved. We gave it our all. So we weren’t at the tip-top, but we did climb a mountain together! 

Sitting around the Timberline Lodge parking lot afterward our team shared salty snacks while celebrating and debriefing. Not only the climb, but everything we’d learned together—that climb, in the program, and during the pandemic. Could we do it? Heck yeah. And we would. Another day. This was just the beginning.

This article originally appeared in the January/February issue of the Mazama Bulletin. You can read other articles in that issue, and past issues, here.

Written by Kenneth Beebe in the 1926 Mazama Annual.

• 

Editors note: The following is an exact reproduction of Beebe’s article with the original wording and grammar intact. The images are drawn from his 1920s era outfitting catalog.

“A few suggestions regarding equipment gleaned from ‘cold,’ ‘hard’ and ‘wet’ ex­perience may be of interest to our mem­bers, particularly our· new ones. Merle Moore speaks the truth when he says, ‘Your pleasure will depend largely on your equipment,’ as you can easily spoil a won­derful trip by too much, too little, or not the right kind of an outfit. 

In outfitting for any kind of a trip out­doors one must keep the weight and bulk down to comfortable essentials consistent with the means of transportation. A sleep­ing bag that will keep you warm is essen­tial. A four-pound wool bat, covered with a wool-proof light sheeting, folded over and sewed across the foot and three-fourths up one side and inserted into a light outer bag, makes a very satisfactory bed. The four-pound bat is a much better weight for this climate than the three or three and a half pound. Such a bag should not weigh more than eight pounds complete. The eiderdown bag possesses more warmth for its weight than the wool bat with the ad­vantage, in addition, of its compressibility for packing, They are also a number of patented bags on the market combining real warmth with light weight. Do not have the outer bag waterproof (except possibly on the bottom) as the body mois­ture, which has to be eliminated from the covering of the sleeper before he can be warm, will condense on the inside of the cover, drawing the heat away from your body instead of retaining it. 

As a protection against rain at night, use either a light tent with waterproof ground cloth sewed in, weighing 3 1/2 to 4 pounds, or a waterproof silk fly about 9 ft. by 10 ft., which can be rigged up as an overhead tent only or, by putting one end on the ground with the sleeping bag on it and then bringing it up, around and over the hag, you can get the combination of tent and ground cloth. A light air mattress and pillow adds greatly to your sleeping comfort. 

Good footwear is all important in walk­ing over rocks and ice fields. Take one pair of stout, high topped boots, with low, broad heels, large enough to allow the wearing of two pairs of socks-one pair heavy wool and one light cotton or silk next to the skin, for this ensures comfort and prevents blisters. The souls should be heavy and nailed with cone-head Hun­garian hob nails. The boots must be well greased and broken in. On the ice and hard snow, either Crampons (ice creepers) or a number of No. 3 or 4 winged screw calks, screwed into the soles and heels, will prevent slipping. Include a light pair of shoes like high tennis shoes or ankle high moccasins for comfort about camp-­also sufficient additional hose according to the duration of the outing. A small quantity of one-inch zinc adhesive plaster is advisable for prevention against blisters. 

An outing suit, preferable of wool or forestry cloth, a mosquito head net and mosquito dope in a small can, soft hat, heavy woolen shirt and a light one for camp, coat sweater or mackinaw coat, a suit of light all wool underwear for moun­tain climbing and your regular underwear for tramping and camp, three bandana handkerchiefs, gloves or mittens (one pair leather and one pair heavy wool), extra shoe laces, tin cup and plate, knife, fork and spoon, canteen, shoe grease or oil, pack hoard or rucksack, toilet roll with towels, soap, cold cream in tube, grease paint and lip stick, all of smallest size and weight, make up the outfit. A rain cape is a needed addition and better than a rain coat as it completely covers your pack and you do not perspire under it. For protec­tion from the wind on the mountain top a windproof parka is a Godsend. 

Goggles or amber colored glasses should be worn on the snow fields to prevent snow blindness. An alpenstock is gener­ally used in this country in preference to an ice axe except by the experienced moun­taineer. For light at night the carbide, electric flashlight or folding candle lantern will give real satisfaction on the trail and in camp. If you take a flashlight, don’t forget to take along an extra battery and bulb. A two-pound axe in sheath is a handy camp tool and a note book, pencil, writing paper, stamped envelopes, water­proof match box (a screw top shaving soap can, lined with blotting paper, makes a good one), pocket compass, pocket knife, map, and a few extra rawhide thongs or strong string are useful accessories. Don’t forget your song books, camera and extra films. 

A good emergency first aid kit consists of 1 roll 2″ gauze bandage, absorbent cot­ton cloth in waterproof containers), lister­ine, mercerex, Unguentine, iodine and resi­nol. Take just a Iittle of each using very small containers. 

Above all, be careful in getting together your outfit. Don’t buy anything until you need it and then buy only what you know you want. A good outfit, carefully se­lected, will give you constant satisfaction, while on the other hand you can sink a lot of money in stuff that is of no value to you nor anyone else. 

We are saddened to share the news that Long died on Tuesday, September 7. Long was a true treasure to the Mazama community. He made an impact on the lives of so many. From leading folks to their first summit, to tackling a more difficult climb, to teaching first aid, or just sharing a smile—he will be forever missed. Climb high, Long.

Yunlong Ong’s quest to outclimb cancer

by Ian McCluskey

On a sweltering July day, our climbing team returned to the trailhead after a successful summit of Mt. Jefferson. Packs laden with ropes, pickets, ice axes, second tools, tents, sleeping bags, stoves, leftover fuel, and ripe blue bags were dropped with a grunt. Leg muscles ached, heel blisters stung, and the grit of trail dust and forest fire ash stuck to sweaty skin. It was that moment when you want to peel off trail-grimy clothes and pour water all over your head, then look back at the now distant snow-capped peak and stupidly grin with a soul-deep sense of self-satisfaction. 

For our climb leader, Yunlong Ong, it was his first successful Jefferson summit, having tried once before. Even more meaningful, it was the very first climb that he led as an official Mazama climb leader. Yet achieving these two hard-earned life goals was not the most significant thing on our climb leader’s mind. 

I hobbled over to congratulate Yunlong—or “Long” as he’s known by friends and fellow Mazamas. As he peeled off his hiking shirt, I noticed the unnatural protrusion on his bare chest, just under his skin. Through this port had been pumped the potent chemicals to battle his gastric cancer. 

This was his first climb after intense rounds of chemotherapy and resection surgery. His salt-and-pepper hair had started to grow back, but just three weeks earlier he had suffered two severe episodes of gastrointestinal bleeding, requiring transfusions, and leaving him weakened. Most people wouldn’t have decided to embark on something as strenuous as climbing a mountain. 

But Long doesn’t believe in limitations. 

Starting with the mountain considered Oregon’s most technical peak, Long began a personal quest to outclimb his cancer. 

A Season of Blitz Climbs 

After his successful summit of Jefferson in the summer of 2019, Long set out on nothing short of a mountaineering blitz. He attempted seven more climbs, reaching six Cascade summits. A schedule shift turned Middle Sister into a burly car-to-car push. 

Just a few days later, I was with him as we zigged-zagged our way up the Emmons glacier on Mt. Rainier. 

It was now late season. The snow had gone through so many thaw-freeze cycles that crampons and ice axes left dings on the hard surface but made no purchase. These conditions, and a sleepless night of howling winds, made the choice to turn back obvious. It would be the first, and only, unsuccessful summit attempt in Long’s push before the end of the Cascade climb season of 2019. 

At the customary post-climb meal of burgers and milkshakes, he gave a little speech to the team. Then he got choked up. 

Most know Long for his big smile. “Hey buddy,” he’ll say as his standard greeting, and if he likes something, it’s “cool beans.” In small social groups that he considers “like-minded,” he reveals his unabashedly playful nature. With his close friends, his form of endearment is to tease them.

But other times, he is often quiet. On climbs, he has an intense focus, his face covered by helmet, sunglasses, and balaclava. He keeps emotions guarded, even bottled up. So when tears come out, it often takes people by surprise. Sometimes it even takes Long by surprise. 

“I’m sorry,” he said to the team after Rainier, though the team understood why we turned back. But it wasn’t the team that Long felt that he’d disappointed. 

He wiped his eyes and collected himself. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I was thinking of my dad.”

From the South China Sea

 Long was born in Brunei, a tiny nation on the island of Borneo looking out across the South China Sea. Islam is the dominant religion and Malay the common language. But Long’s parents were Chinese. At home, they spoke Mandarin and practiced Buddhism.

His dad worked as an air conditioning and refrigerator mechanic. But he had “foresight,” Long says. He enrolled Long in an English school, where Long learned to speak his third language.   

His dad was a man of few words. He worked hard to be a provider, and told his two sons that “education was the way.”

In 1983, the family moved to Singapore. It is smaller in land-size than Brunei, but with more than 5 million people it is one of the most densely populated countries in the world. For his father, the move was an increase in the cost of living to support the family, but it also offered his children a path forward in their education. Singapore has one of the highest youth literacy rates in the world.

In 1996, Long earned his bachelor’s degree from the University of Singapore—the first in the family to graduate college. 

He felt the culture of Singapore was rigid, demanding conformity. The cultural expectation was for him to marry and immediately start a family. Long worked in youth development programs that he describes as similar to Outward Bound. But he didn’t get along with some of his colleagues, he says, due to his “rebellious nature.” 

As Long traveled to various countries of Southeast Asia for his job, he saw life outside the relatively wealthy counties of Brunei and Singapore. The level of medical conditions made a big impression on him, and he felt he wanted to make life better for people. He realized that he could accomplish this through medicine. It was a life-changing epiphany. 

When Long told his father that he wanted to move to America to study medicine, his dad said simply, “Go do what makes you happy.”

Becoming a Nurse and a Mazama

Long moved first to Denver, Colorado to earn a Bachelor of Science in Nursing, then to Los Angeles, California where he entered UCLA for a master’s degree. 

In Los Angeles, Long met Bill, a location manager for Hollywood movies. Bill smiles as he recalls that first chance meeting in a gym, when he asked Long about the t-shirt he was wearing that said “Thailand.” Bill’s eyes get a little misty. “The best thing that ever happened to me,” he says. 

In 2010, Long had the opportunity to continue pursuing his path in medicine at OHSU. He and Bill moved to Portland. 

At OHSU, Long began his career as a Nurse Practitioner, eventually settling into the specialty Pain Management. 

While working on a cardiac ward, he met Mark Stave, a nurse, and, it turned out, a Mazama.

Long had first experienced climbing back in Asia. In Colorado, he hiked a few “14-ers.” But the Northwest’s Cascades offered what Long considered “real climbing”—long-distance approaches, setting up a base camp, and crossing glaciers ripped by crevasses. 

He took the Basic Climbing Education Program (BCEP), and a couple years later the Intermediate Climbing School (ICS). Climbing with Mazamas gave Long a community of “like-minded” people who shared his passion for climbing and his love of nature. Having been focused intensely on his academic studies for years, Long could enjoy a new chapter of alpine adventure and camaraderie.

In 2016, he decided to take the final step and enter the Mazama Leadership Development program to become an official Mazama climb leader.

In August 2018, Long had reached his third provisional climb. Never settling for easy, he’d picked North Sister. I was fresh out of BCEP that spring and applied for his climb. Rather than reject me flat out, Long called other climb leaders for a reference. Running background checks like this would later become one of Long’s standard practices as a climb leader. 

On that climb, I got to witness his leadership style. “He tries to get everyone involved in the climb,” says Mark Stave. “I think that makes for a very strong team when everyone feels like they are not just along for the ride.” 

Long successfully completed this final provisional, completing the requirements to apply to become a Mazama climb leader. Barely a month later, Long stood on the summit of Africa’s fabled Kilimanjaro. That same day he learned that he had been approved as a climb leader. Long’s life had reached a true high point.

Before heading back to the U.S., he flew to Singapore to celebrate his dad’s 80th birthday. He had lots of success to report, yet he had one concern that he’d have to deal with when he got back home that he kept to himself. He didn’t want his dad to worry.

“Why is dad so thin?” he asked his mother. 

His mother hadn’t noticed. “When you see someone every single day, you don’t notice the gradual changes,” said Long. 

Before he left, Long said to his younger brother, “Look after dad.”

Critical Juncture

Before Long left for Africa, he had experienced gastrointestinal bleeding. His doctor had scheduled an endoscopy for after his return. 

The endoscopy revealed two ulcers. His doctor took a biopsy. When Long saw the image, with his medical training he could see that the cells did not look normal. 

Three days later, the test results confirmed what he’d feared.

“That’s when my world fell apart,” he said. 

He turned to his partner, Bill. “We had to decide what we would do at this critical juncture,” Long said. 

There was so much uncertainty ahead. “What was certain,” said Long, “We love each other. We want to spend this time together.”

A few days after Thanksgiving 2018, they gathered a small group of friends, some of Bill’s family, and a minister. They exchanged vows. They were declared “husband and husband.” 

For him to marry a man was “beyond comprehension” in the culture Long had grown up in. “The opportunity to say that you love someone, of the same gender,” explained Long. “You can be who you are, not what you are.”

Setting His Sights High

At the beginning of 2019, Long started his first round of chemo. But soon after, he flew back to Singapore.

His Dad was having health problems. It started with pneumonia, but had worsened to a delirium where he didn’t know where he was and could not even recognize family members. But when Long went to visit him in the hospital, his dad recognized him and asked, “Why do you have no hair?” 

“Oh, it’s a new fashion,” said Long, not wanting to worry his father.

That spring, Long underwent his second round of chemo and resection surgery. Then he flew back to Singapore again, this time for his dad’s funeral. 

Long’s body was pummeled by more rounds of chemo. And when the last round was done, he turned his sights to mountains.

Starting with Jefferson, he charged six summits, apologizing to his team for being, “a little slower than usual.” 

“I’ve only seen him frustrated once,” says Daven Berg, climbing partner and friend. They were coming down North Sister. After some 13 hours since the alpine start, a day of setting lines and keeping a watchful eye on his team, Long was exhausted and beginning to fall behind. Daven was ahead with the others when he heard a noise come from Long. “It wasn’t a word, and it wasn’t aimed at anyone, but just like a yell up at the sky, just an expression of frustration out loud,” Daven explains. “It wasn’t a theatrical display to draw attention to himself, just a moment. A moment where I realized he was human.”

“Then, he was back to his jovial self.”

Long’s blitz climbs of 2019 might have seemed like a frantic dash to fill every weekend with a climb—going against the common sense to rest and recover after such an intensive medical ordeal and painful loss of his father—but Long had a plan with deeper purpose. 

He had to rebuild his body’s iron levels from the massive blood loss. He wasn’t just scrambling up the familiar Cascades for pure fun—every foot upward was training. 

He charged to the end of the climb season, then headed south to Mexico. He climbed two mountains, 17,343-foot Iztaccihuatl and 18,491-foot Pico De Orizaba. But even these peaks were training for his real goal of 2019. 

He had climbed Africa’s highest peak with his friend Sue, from Singapore. Now they’d set their sights on the highest peak in the Americas, Aconcagua. Rising 22,838 feet above sea level in the Andes of Argentina, it is the highest peak outside the Himalayas. To pick such a superlative summit was fitting for such a difficult year.  

South America had held a special place in Long’s imagination. “It had a mystique,” he said. “It felt exotic, like a true adventure.” 

After his string of summits, Long felt strong again. Ready.

Transcendent Loneliness 

Climbs always seem to start loud, and eventually get quiet. 

This is what Long seeks. “A pure communion between human and mountain, uninterrupted by other human beings,” he said. “I seek the pureness and the transcendent loneliness of the mountain, the mountain breeze that seems to blow away my worries and the pure elation of entering a relationship with the mountains.”

When Long goes on climbs, like our Jefferson climb, he slips away from the group for a moment. “I have some business to take care of,” he’ll say, making a joke about using a blue bag. Which is actually true. But under his potty humor, there’s his spiritual side. He’ll step away from the team to say some prayers in private.

Reaching the summit of Aconcagua was the highest he’d ever been on the planet. Being so high above the world of cities and roads and schools and hospitals, put him closer to a spiritual plane, “energy that we can’t fully understand,” he describes. 

When he is on a mountaintop, Long stops to think about his dad. He keeps a snapshot taken when his dad was a young man, proudly standing with a team on the talus peak of Mt. Kinabalu back in Borneo.

Long recalls the last time he saw his dad in the hospital in Singapore. “Before he died, I sensed he was proud of me,” says Long. 

He offers the wind a prayer. “Dad, wherever you are, I hope I am your pride and joy. I hope you are in a good space. Thank you for giving me this life to do this climb.” 

When Long first moved to America, his dad was worried about his son. “Does he have enough money, someone to take care of him?” 

When Long says his mountaintop prayers, he tells his dad, “Don’t worry about me.” 

More Peaks Than a Lifetime 

Long beat his cancer into remission, but it returned. He resumed the rounds of chemo. He got good news, then bad news, then good news, then more bad … as it too often goes with the cruelty of cancer.

But he doesn’t want to focus on the disease—rather, on resiliency. Thinking about the mountains he will climb gives him something to look forward to. “The life-motivating desire to scale every mountain I can possibly do so with my finite time in this mortal world!”

“As a health-care provider, he’s aware of his prognosis,” says Mark Stave. “I think he’s realistic, but he doesn’t let the diagnosis of cancer hold him back. These are goals he had pre-cancer, and he’s not going to let cancer take those dreams away from him.”

By the end of 2020, Long had set his sights on returning to South America to attempt three large peaks in Ecuador—Cayambe, Cotopaxi, Chimbarazo. He invited Mark and Daven to join.

Long feels drawn back to the Andes. “There are more peaks than we’ve heard of there, the expanse of the unknown,” he says. “Standing on a summit, you can see more peaks than anyone can climb in a lifetime.” 

But that won’t stop Long from trying.

From our Archives: With Oregon is facing historic wildfires, it is an appropriate time to revisit this article from 2012 and hear how one team had to react quickly when faced with a rapidly advancing fire while out on a climb of North Sister.

by Ania Wiktorowicz

On Sept. 9, 2012, a team of seven climbers, under the leadership of John Godino, summited the beautiful and most challenging of the Three Sisters: North Sister, via the South Ridge. The plan was to conquer the beast in two days and be back home safely on Sunday night. However, the beast had different plans for us.

 John Godino, Steve Scovill, Kai Snyder and I met in Portland on Saturday morning and headed to the town of Sisters, where we met the rest of our team: Kurt Gusinde (who has climbed six of the seven tallest summits on each continent), John Rettig (who was going for his 16th peak!) and Andreas Wunderle. We all then headed to the Pole Creek trailhead. At 11 a.m., after a quick gear check, we started a five-mile hike up to our base camp below the Hayden Glacier, where we found a beautiful spot with a great water source and even better views of the Three Sisters. 

Since we arrived at our base camp in the early afternoon, some of us decided to do a little navigation exercise. After looking at the map, playing with our compasses and proving that triangulation indeed does not work, we headed out to Camp Lake where we enjoyed a quick swim in the semi-warm water. 

The next morning, at 5 a.m. sharp, seven sleepy climbers started a long walk up the valley between the Hayden Glacier and the south face of North Sister to the saddle between North and Middle Sister. We mostly stayed to the right side of the melted glacier, where the rock was pretty solid. We arrived at the saddle at 7:40 a.m. and started a long climb up the southwest ridge. This was our preview of how unstable the mountain is. Big, loose boulders did not cooperate with our hands and feet and from time to time someone would yell “Roooock!” causing everyone to hug the mountain even closer. Once we got to the top of the ridge, we breezed through some traverses and 4th-class rock to stand face-to-face with the famous Terrible Traverse. 

John G. decided to set a fixed line—for which I will be eternally thankful. The snow was entirely gone except for a tiny patch of ice. The rock was very loose and one had to fight the urge to use it as handholds. Going through the merely 20 feet of loose rock, I had to remind myself multiple times to breathe. Just as Steve was getting to the anchor, where John G. was already waiting, I saw two fist-sized rocks falling just above their heads. I yelled “Rock! Rock!” and as they put their heads under some larger rocks, a substantial rock fall tumbled down right next to them. It looked as if it would hit Steve and John G., but the rocks fell merely a couple feet away from them, nipping our rope a little. 

From there, we were a couple of minutes and a short scramble away from the Bowling Alley. John G. ran up this section in an impressive 1 minute and 45 seconds, setting up a fixed line, so we, the meager human beings, could slowly follow his lead. The team summited at 11:30 a.m., with John Rettig claiming his 16th peak. We celebrated with an extraordinary Proscuitto e meloné summit treat that he brought to share with the team. 

All the while, as we were approaching the summit, we had been noticing a wildfire in what appeared to be the Pole Creek area, but we weren’t sure how close it was to our cars. What looked so innocent from the summit turned into an adventure only a couple of hours later. 

Except for some scree-skiing down the south side and watching aircraft dropping pretty, orange fire retardant on the wildfire (and our cars, as we found out the next day), the descent was pretty uneventful. We arrived at our camp at 4:15 p.m., took 45 minutes to break camp and headed back to our cars. 

On our hike out, we observed with growing anxiety a huge mushroom cloud of smoke north of us, but we decided to try to get to our cars as quickly and cautiously as we could. Our leader was a former wildland firefighter, which gave our team increased confidence going into a potentially dangerous area. The temperatures were dropping as night approached, and winds were almost zero; both factors were in our favor.

When we were 25 minutes or so from the trailhead, a tree caught on fireabout 100 meters from us. It was so sudden and violent that Kai turned back, looked at us and yelled “RUUUN!!!” We did. After several hundred feet we stopped and looked back. The fire was not following us with a high speed, but we needed to get out of the area and we had to do it FAST. 

 We retraced our steps to the nearest water we had crossed, Soap Creek, and reassessed the situation. The winds were blowing north, and we knew that the fire was on the north side from us, so the team pulled it together and we were soon moving toward the Green Lakes area, which was nine miles to the south. Our objective was Park Meadow, which we knew to be a flat grassy area with no deadwood nearby. The time was 7:20 p.m. and we had one heck of a summit day behind us, yet we had no choice but to push on. 

With two not-very-useful Three Sisters Area maps by Geo-Graphics (they neglected to print the UTM grid and perhaps a couple of creeks here and there), we tried to navigate through the dark forest, nervously looking back from time-to-time to occasionally see an orange glow in the sky, with the fire apparently following our footsteps. 

 At one creek crossing, we came across some gear that belonged to hikers who fled the scene in chaos. After going through their backpacks trying to find some identification, we decided to leave the things as they were and continued on. 

 After some four hours of night hiking, cracking jokes, singing, sleep walking and sugar loading, we came across a stream that we could not locate on the map. We assessed the fire situation again and decided to camp on the trail. 

After a 3½-hour beauty sleep, we were awakened by Andreas’ yell of: “John! It’s red! The sky is red!” We got up to see a reddish glow to the north. We packed our camp in merely 10 minutes and again hit the trail. (We learned a day or two later from infrared maps of the fire that it had barely reached Soap Creek, still miles away to the north, but it sure looked closer at the time.)

We arrived at our destination, Park Meadow, 30 minutes later. Here we stumbled upon some shovels and helmets on the trail. They were left there on purpose by U.S. Forest Service rangers, who were camping nearby, to let the stranded hikers know that they had arrived to help. John G. awoke the lead wilderness ranger, Chris, who somewhat sleepily went into rescue mode. He pulled out his radio and his same, generally useless map and for the next 45 minutes worked with John G. on a plan to get us out of this jumble. We received an update on the car situation: There were four cars completely destroyed, two severely damaged, but the rest of the cars were OK. The ranger did not have any details on which cars were untouched. We were hoping we were the lucky ones. 

We tried to stay quiet, but with all the thrill and excitement of the last 24 hours, we failed miserably and woke up another ranger. We apologized and the response we got was, “It’s totally fine; that’s what we’re here for.” We were all amazed by their professionalism, kindness and willingness to help us. Our transportation out to Sisters was arranged for 9:30 a.m. from the Park Meadow trailhead, which was only five miles away, so we decided to steal one more hour of sleep before heading out. Before leaving, we had time to make coffee and tea for two very appreciative wilderness rangers.

Sure enough, just as we got to the trailhead, the Deschutes County Search and Rescue truck arrived and gave us an update on the fire situation. The fire was spreading fast, and it was possible our current location might even be engulfed in flames by that evening. Since SAR could only take four people at a time, we split the group in two—Steve, John R., Andreas and I got to go first. Park rangers made one of their spare trucks available to the rest of the group in case the fire decided to show up earlier than anticipated and told them where to look for a safe area. Again, AMAZING! 

When we arrived in Sisters, there was already a SAR Incident Command established at the ranger station parking lot. We were immediately approached by the sheriff and asked for any and all information we could give about our cars and fire situation. Within an hour we knew that our cars were not among the four that were destroyed. One hour later, we were rejoined with the rest of our team, and three hours later the sheriff’s department delivered our cars—dirty, covered with fire retardant, with smoky odor, but otherwise unharmed—right to the parking lot. 

All this time our friends and loved ones were in touch with Lee Davis and John G’s wife, Iris, who were calling the sheriff’s department and Deschutes National Forest Ranger Station trying to find any information about our situation. Some of the team members received several voice messages and text messages from the sheriff’s department and ranger station advising us where to go to escape the fire. We got to check these messages once we were safe in town with excellent cell phone reception. 

Thanks to John Godino for his outstanding leadership and excellent expertise in wildfires and stream crossing. We couldn’t have made it without you. As to the term “epic climb”… yeah, we raised the bar. 

Lessons Learned (by John Godino): 

Take your GPS and small-scale map (showing a large area) on every hike or climb you go on, even in areas you’re very familiar with.

If you have a lame map that does not have a good UTM grid on it, draw a grid yourself with a sharpie pen before your trip.

If you see a fire, report it to 911. A compass bearing to the fire and your current location, either a precise map location or preferably a pinpoint location found via GPS, will be very helpful to 911.

A functioning cell phone can be your most critical tool in an emergency. Turn your cell phone off or put it in airplane mode (not stand by) at the trailhead, and have everyone else on the team do the same. If you do not get phone reception in one spot, you may get it close by—don’t give up trying. [Added in 2021: Bring a battery charger or solar charger for your phone with you so you can recharge your phone if needed.]

Climbers have an ethic of not calling for rescue unless you really need one. This is generally a good idea. However, in this situation, calling 911 and telling them we were safe, our current location and intended course of action would have saved our friends and family at home and the local authorities some time and concern. By reading the wilderness permits in the registration box (and on that note, always fill out this permit information completely) and running the license plates of our cars through DMV, SAR knows exactly who is out there (or at least, the owner of the car) and they want to help you any way they can. SAR was actively trying to phone and text us and give instructions on where to go (which turned out to be Park Meadow, precisely the destination we picked on our own). In summary, if you have the slightest idea that someone at home is concerned about you, always call out if possible and tell authorities your condition, even if it is 100 percent happy. 

Given sufficient motivation, it is possible for an entire climb team to get up from a sound sleep, pack and start hiking in under 10 minutes.

Take the 10 essentials on every hike or climb you go on. Our team was exceptionally well-prepared with food, water, shelter, clothing, stoves, navigational tools and the skills to use them, along with fitness and great morale. If any one or more of these things were absent, what was a pretty pleasant night hike and a happy ending could easily have turned into something else. Although we were well prepared, we could’ve easily run into day hikers in shorts and t-shirts, unable to reach their car and looking at a very uncomfortable night out. The extra gear that we might have shared with them could literally have saved their lives. υ