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President’s Message on The Route Ahead

By Greg Scott

What does the Mazamas need to achieve its goals?

The Mazamas is a mountaineering institution.  But like most organizations that experience “institution” status, the Mazamas has not kept up with the times and is on a trajectory to becoming a dying organization.  At best, it is becoming irrelevant to the growing community of climbers and outdoor enthusiasts. We have the historic opportunity to renew the Mazamas and make changes that both better meet the needs of a broader community, and help the organization become more solvent.   In addition to its values, the things that made the Mazamas an institution are its community, its history, and its leadership opportunities.  While summiting a glaciated peak may have brought commonality, it did not define how we became a community, how we left our mark on mountaineering, and how our leaders guided this institution to this moment in our long history.  

To paraphrase the original charter, the Mazamas set for themselves four goals:

The exploration of snow-capped peaks and other mountains;

To collect scientific knowledge about the mountain environment;

To preserve the natural beauty of the forests and mountains;

And to share all that knowledge around the Pacific Northwest.

The Mazamas mission is the same today.  “To inspire everyone to love and protect the mountains.”  In addition to recognizing the need to serve and support a broad and diverse community, the world around us has also changed and the Mazamas need to renew itself to survive.  Many of the National Forests we operate in did not exist in 1894.  Nor did Oregon Revised Statutes. Just in the last twenty years, a dozen qualifying glaciated peaks have dropped from the Mazamas rolls.   

The problem we immediately face is we are not positioned to attract new leadership and we lack a common vision, both of which are vital to a sustainable financial future.  In December 2021, Page Two Partners (“P2P”) conducted a focused organizational assessment for the Mazamas.  The purpose of the assessment was “to identify broad organizational strengths and challenges and provide recommendations to help position the organization for an effective and sustainable leadership model going forward.”   P2P made eleven recommendations to guide the Executive Council.  Following this assessment, the Executive Council (“EC”) prioritized five of these recommendations and held town hall meetings to discuss the Mazamas future.  Based on feedback from the membership, the EC determined it was necessary to reflect on the current bylaws.  Based on the results of the last election, the EC was wary of  reopening old wounds.  However, the board knew it was nearly impossible to discuss any of P2P’s recommendations without recognizing our bylaws are the foundation for addressing any of them.   EC sought legal advice and recommendations from Stoel Rives.  In consultation with P2P, our interim director, Kaleen Deatherage, and our legal counsel, the EC decided to request from counsel a complete rewrite of the existing bylaws resulting in proposed Amended and Revised Bylaws (“Proposed Bylaws”).  In addition to beginning to address the recommendations, the Proposed Bylaws will help the Mazamas:

  • Attract Capable Experienced Leadership
  • Stabilize and Strengthen Our Finances
  • Adapt to the Changing World Around Us

All three of these goals are intertwined and are necessary first steps to follow through with positioning the Mazamas for an effective and sustainable leadership model going forward. 

Attract Capable Experienced Leadership

The problem:

  • The Mazamas have not had a permanent executive director for over two years.  
  • Before we can even begin the search for a new Executive Director we need to be an organization that attracts capable and experienced candidates.  
  • The current bylaws do not give an Executive Director any authority or guidance to manage the organization.  Because of this, it is doubtful the type of candidate we need will be attracted to our organization.  

Path Created by Proposed Bylaws: 

  • The Proposed Bylaws allow the board to hire an Executive Director with CEO level duties.  
  • The Proposed Bylaws send a signal that the Mazamas is working towards a sustainable future and are a worthy investment. 
  • An experienced candidate will design and implement a staff structure that will protect our investments and reduce costs, while at the same time identifying new revenue streams.

Stabilize and Strengthen Our Finances

The problem:

  • The Mazamas are operating in a deficit and at the current pace of spending it’s a matter of 3-4 years before we need to make the difficult decision to close our doors.  Costs have been cut to a point that threatens the quality of our programs and memberships’ experience.  
  • The current bylaws are a barrier to growth because they require the entire membership to vote on bylaws changes, including those that affect financial decisions such as adjusting our fee structure.  
  • The glaciated peak membership requirement cuts the Mazamas off from millions of grant dollars and threatens our 501(c)(3) status.

Path Created by Proposed Bylaws: 

  • The Proposed Bylaws expands the board and allows for recruitment of a broader set of skills that will enhance development, investment, and fiscal conservatism. 
  • The Proposed Bylaws eliminate the requirement that all members vote on changes to the bylaws, which will give flexibility to a new board and an Executive Director to respond to emerging issues, preserve our investments, and explore alternative revenue sources such as external grants. 
  • The Proposed Bylaws shifts the Mazamas fiscal year from Oct. – Sept., to a calendar year allowing for easier budgeting and planning. 

Adapt to the Changing World Around Us

The problem:

  • The current bylaws do not conform to Oregon Revised Statutes and Federal IRS standards.
  • Both private and public foundations have changed their requirements for funding grant proposals and require organizations to not only remove barriers to membership  (such as the glaciated peak requirement), but to address Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion in their organization by demonstrating among other things, that the organization has a diverse board of directors.
  • The US Forest Service is increasing its scrutiny of non-profit outdoor organizations, such as the Mazamas, requiring the board to consider exploring and implementing alternative fee structures. The current bylaws prevents the board from exploring and implementing alternative fee structures, because it requires a vote of the membership to change membership fees, and the glaciated peak membership requirement eliminates flexibility in how the Mazamas conducts business in National Forests.  
  • The Mazamas is a partner organization in multiple national efforts including the Mountaineering Education Alliance (“MEA”).  The Mazamas are one of the original partners in the MEA which is working on a first of its kind national UIAA certification for volunteer training in the United States.  The Mazamas have been a key player bringing credibility to this process.  Other alliances that the Mazamas are considering joining are an important voice in public land and conservation policy, which directly impacts when and how we can operate in the outdoors.  The Mazamas will lose a seat at the table because the current bylaws threaten the 501(c)(3) status of partner organizations currently allied with the Mazamas.

Path Created by Proposed Bylaws:     

  • The Proposed Bylaws will bring the organization into legal compliance by removing provisions not typical of bylaws that can be made into policies, such as membership levels and who is covered by insurance indemnification. This gives the board more flexibility in making changes to these policies if needed in the future. 
  • The Proposed Bylaws will eliminate future concerns from partner organizations about their 501(c)(3) status and allow the Mazamas to continue collaborating to influence national standards for volunteer training and public land and conservation policy. 
  • The proposed bylaws will open the Mazamas up to revenue streams that can address immediate capital projects (e.g. replacement of the lodge roof) and allow the membership to continue to enjoy affordable benefits. 
  • The Proposed Bylaws will provide a pathway to cost reduction through property tax exemptions not being realized under our current structure.   

What is it time for us to let go?

The Glaciated Peak Requirement

The Mazamas became an institution despite its membership requirement, not because of it. This is evidenced by the variety of programming the Mazamas have offered over the last century that goes well beyond summiting a glaciated peak.  Look no further than the thousands of street ramblers who would support the Mazamas mission, or the graduates of the FM101 program that despite having equivalent skills to BCEP, do not have an equal path to membership.  

Membership Controlled Organization

The bylaws were codified at a time when the founders did not contemplate having potentially thousands of members.  Nor could they have conceived of the internet.  In a world of constant change it has become impractical, if not impossible to nimbly conduct business that requires a 2/3 vote from the membership for bylaws amendments.  Virtually no 501(C)(3) exists today with as many members as the Mazamas that have an equivalent requirement.

How do we let those things go?

The Glaciated Peak Society

With these Proposed Bylaws the Mazamas will introduce the Glaciated Peak Society (“GPS”).  The only requirement for membership will be you must be a Mazamas member in good standing, and you must have climbed a glaciated peak.  This will acknowledge and preserve the long tradition of recognizing those who have experienced the top of a glaciated peak. 

Members still get a say

Although it is not a typical feature of modern non-profit bylaws, Mazamas members will still be able to vote for prospective board members, making the majority of the board elected representatives.  Members will also be able to vote to remove board members, and vote on any bylaws amendments that impact member rights, and major organizational decisions such as a merger, dissolution, or sale, lease, conveyance, exchange or other disposition of substantially all of the Mazamas’ property.

In addition, advisory committees will encourage the membership to engage with the board creating a more horizontal organizational structure. This has the potential to increase representation and broaden the diversity of opinions and experience available to the board to support initiatives and programming that advance our commitment to diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging, support our 501(c)(3) status, and increase our financial security.  

A vote to approve the Proposed Bylaws shows a commitment to renewing the Mazamas, maintaining the organization, and preserving its history. Please visit The Route Ahead page for more information.

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The Mazamas Supports Mt. Hood Safety, Opposes Permit Fees

Mt. Hood by Andrew Holman

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.


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Henry Pittock & the Mazamas

by Mathew Brock, Mazama Library and Historical Collections Manager


Above: Henry Pittock (far right, holding alpenstock) and members of the Mazama 1912 Annual Outing to Mt. Hood in front of Cloud Cap Inn. Mazama Library and Historical Collections, VM2011.007 1912 Hood Outing. 

In the mid to late 1800s, the mountains of the Cascades, especially St. Helens, Adams, and Hood, pulled early adventurers out of the growing metropolitan areas and into the wilderness. In the summer of 1853, Thomas Dryer and a party of other men stood on the summit of Mount St. Helens. During the early exploration and settlement of the Oregon Territory, few had the time or energy to climb mountains. However, a handful of individuals like Dryer were drawn to the mountains. His climb of Mount St. Helens marked the beginning of the golden age of mountain climbing in the Pacific Northwest. A year later, in 1854, Dryer climbed Mt. Hood. His claim of having reached the summit of Mt. Hood was challenged by his eager, young employee Henry L. Pittock.

Early Portland businessmen appear cold and calculating in their dark Victorian-era suits and stern expressions devoid of humor. Henry Pittock looked the part in many of his early photographs, but his public image was at odds with his passion for life and outdoor activities. Pittock was born in London, England on March 1, 1836, before moving to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with his family. As a boy, he learned printing as part of the family business and studied at the Western University of Pennsylvania’s preparatory school. Pittock arrived in Oregon in 1853 at the age of 17 after crossing the Oregon Trail by covered wagon. Soon after, Thomas Dryer hired him to work at the Weekly Oregonian. Under Dryer, Pittock worked as a printer, handled distribution, and soon rose to be a shop foreman. By 1854, Pittock had risen through the ranks to the role of business manager. Unable to pay him, Dryer made Pittock his business partner. 

On August 6, 1857, Pittock, along with four others (L.J. Powell, William Buckley, Lyman Chittenden, and James Deardorff) made what is considered the first documented climb of Mt. Hood. Like Dryer three years earlier, Pittock and his party left Philip Foster’s farm in Clackamas County and made their way to the summit over five and a half hours, reaching the top at 12:30 pm. After eating lunch, they planted an alpenstock in the snow with a handkerchief which they left blowing in the north wind. Pittock, who was twenty-three years old at the time, and the other ‘boys’ then amused themselves for an hour by rolling rocks off the summit and watching them crash onto the outcroppings below. Pittock also recalled descending into one of the fumaroles on about 30 feet of rope and being unable to see the bottom. The snow on Hood that day was perfect for glissading and the party was off the mountain in just over two hours. 

After making their way back to Portland, James Deardorff, a member of Pittock’s party, published an account of their climb in the Democratic Standard, a rival publication to Dryer’s Weekly Oregonian. In his article, Deardorff gave his opinion, and it can be assumed one shared by Pittock and the other two climbers, that Dryer’s party had stopped some 300 feet shy of the summit back in 1854. What they found there differed in appearance from Dryer’s published account. Dryer reported finding a summit ridge running from southwest to north that was pockmarked with vents emitting sulfurous gas. Pittock’s party found a summit ridge that ran west to east and no evidence of smoking fumaroles, although they could see a scene that matched Dryer’s description some three hundred feet lower on the mountain’s slope. 

Needless to say, Dryer was less than pleased with Deardorff’s assertions and published a lengthy response in the next edition of his own paper. Over the next several weeks arguments volleyed back and forth in Portland’s newspapers. In his detailed assessment of the early years of the Mazamas, Erik Weiselberg notes that “Dryer sought to shift the terms of the argument, and to argue on the basis of respect, age, and gentlemanly behavior, rather than credibility and accuracy of reporting.” As K.F. Stewart notes in their biography of Henry Pittock, I Kept at Work, “what Dryer and Pittock said to each other while working together over the Oregonian’s presses went unrecorded, but they did continue their joint labor for another three years.” 

Pittock returned to climb Hood again in 1858 with a larger group that included two members of the 1857 climbing party. Pittock’s own recounting of that year’s climb notes that the climb up from Crater Rock was much more difficult than it had been the previous year. The party was forced to cut steps into the hard snow with the iron tips of their alpenstocks. Using a telescope, from the summit, they could see smoke from an Oregon City foundry, the windows of a Portland church reflected in the sun, the prairies of Central Oregon, and the peaks of St. Helens, Adams, and Rainier. Planted on the summit was a six-foot American flag, left from a previous party who summited on July 4th. Pittock and his party gathered around the flag, gave three cheers, and fired off pistols and lit firecrackers. The party was slowed on the descent due to everyone’s snowblindness. 


Henry Pittock on the summit of Mt. Hood, undated. Image courtesy of Pittock Mansion.

Pittock’s third climb of Mt. Hood, in 1859, turned out to be the most dangerous yet. The top 300 feet below the summit were almost bare of snow and the party was forced to pick their way over loose stones and gravel. Every few steps, someone would kick lose a stone that went rolling past everyone below. On the way up they noticed the tracks of a wolf, which they followed all the way to the summit. The tracks passed over and descended the other side. Upon reaching the summit they found it was covered with butterflies, some of which they captured and brought back as specimens. Also on the summit, they found a bottle containing the names of another party from a week prior and the remains of their firecrackers from the year before, however no sign of the flag or its pole. 

In what might be an indication of the relationship between Pittock and Dryer, it’s interesting to note that Pittock’s longtime friend George T. Meyer climbed Hood that year twice. The two men must have been on at least good enough terms to share a friend. Meyer climbed Mt. Hood once with Dryer in July of 1859 and then again with Pittock a month later. As a result, Meyer became the first person known to have climbed Mt. Hood twice in the same season. 

After scaling Mount Hood each year for three consecutive years, Henry took a decades-long break from climbing. In 1860, he married Georgiana Burton and assumed ownership of The Oregonian newspaper, and was likely focused on his growing family and building the newspaper into a successful business. Henry returned to mountaineering in the 1880s, this time bringing along his daughters, Kate and Lucy Pittock. As adults, Kate and Lucy embraced their father’s love of hiking and climbing. The sisters both joined the Mazamas in 1895 after climbing Mount Hood that same year. Lucy also climbed Mount McLoughlin (then known as Mount Pitt) along with her father in 1896 and summited Pinnacle Peak on the 1897 Mazamas Outing to Mount Rainier.

As the number of Portland-area climbing enthusiasts grew, so did the movement to create a group for like-minded individuals to join. In September of 1887, William Steel was one of a group of Portland climbers who lead the effort to establish the Oregon Alpine Club (OAC), the first mountaineering group west of the Mississippi. While we don’t know with certainty when Pittock and Steel first met, it’s likely they came in contact with each other through their involvement with the OAC. Pittock, his son-in-law Fredrick Leadbetter, and friend George Meyer were all members. The OAC reached the pinnacle of its glory in May of 1888 when it hosted a talk by the noted author Charles Dickens. 

The OAC struggled for seven years while it tried to find a focus and by 1891 it had collapsed. After the OAC went bankrupt, Steel and a handful of other mountaineers began meeting to form a new organization. In early 1894, they drafted a constitution, selected a name, and picked a slate of officers for the new organization. In March of 1894, they launched their new endeavor with ads in newspapers around the West. Pittock played a large part in the build-up to the establishment of the Mazamas. For the previous thirty years, the Oregonian printed little on Mt. Hood, as any further climbs were no longer “firsts.” As Stewart notes in their book, “One notable exception occurred in 1874 when a party came back from the summit with Pittock’s alpenstock, made from a sapling he had cut at timberline on his first climb in 1857, and which you will recall he left on the summit, planted like a flag. The alpenstock was inscribed with his name and the date. Pittock kept it proudly in his office until the flood of 1894 when it was lost, presumably floated downriver and out to sea.” For eleven days prior to and nine days after the selected date for the inauguration of the Mazamas, The Oregonian ran nine separate articles about the ascent. 

On the appointed day over 350 people from all walks of life assembled in the small hamlet of Government Camp, some of them having traveled three or more days by horseback or buggy, over rudimentary roads, where they set up an army of tents at the foot of Mt. Hood. The climb up was not without its dangers. At least two storms swirled around the mountain that day, forcing many climbers to turn back. In a story well known to most Mazamas, on Thursday, July 19, 1894, 155 men and 38 women reached the summit to inaugurate the Mazamas. 

Pittock and his two daughters were among those that were turned back by the weather. Pittock was a risk-taker, he wouldn’t have reached the summit of Hood or the Portland business establishment without being one, but he was not rash. The safety of his daughters and others came first. While the Pittocks were not listed as those on the summit, Henry was granted charter member status in the Mazamas in recognition of his 1857 first ascent.

In 1895, the year following the inauguration of the Mazamas, Pittock’s daughters Kate and Lucy, along with their brother-in-law Frederick Leadbetter, and Pittock’s nephew H. D. Stratton, made their own climb of Mt. Hood and became members of the Mazamas. 

Lucy accompanied her father on the 1986 Mazama Outing to Crater Lake that year. On August 16th, they were among the thirty-two people who ascended Mt. Pitt.  

In 1897 the members of the Mazamas elected Henry Pittock president of the organization. The minutes from Pittock’s year as president show that he appointed a committee to search for additional space to store publications, books, and curios. He and the executive council urged the US Geographic Survey to map the State of Oregon and Mt. Hood specifically. He signed on to a petition to create the Olympic Mountains Forest Reserve and urged for the creation of Crater Lake National Park. 

In the early years of the Mazamas, the Annual Outing was the big social event of the season. And under Pittock’s tenure, the location chosen for the 1897 outing was Mt. Rainier. Given the difficulty and time required, to say nothing of the logistics of reaching the mountains in the late 1800s, these outings were no small affairs. These often involved upwards of a hundred people or more, traveling by boat, train, wagon, and on horseback, over several days just to reach the site of their basecamp.  In addition to the climbers, there were cooks and camp porters, and wagon loads of supplies that were needed to support the huge party sometime for weeks in the wilderness.  

The outing to Mt. Rainier generated nationwide interest in the Pacific Northwest and its mountains, and contributed substantially to the creation of the Mt. Rainier National Park a year and a half later in 1899. In addition to over 40 Mazamas, a contingent of climbers from California’s Sierra Club, the Appalachian Mountain Club, and many eminent scientists were represented. In addition to Steel and Pittock, other notable members of the outing include Miss Fay Fuller; Dr. E. W. Young, and Edward Curtis, of Seattle. Edward Curtis would go on and become renowned around the world for his ethnographic work on, and portraits of, the Native Americans of the western United States. 

Even though there were other experienced Rainier climbers on the trip, Steel, Pittock, and Fuller among them, Curtis was selected as the climb leader due to his having spent considerable time on the mountain climbing and photographing its many changing seasons. Prior to the climb Curtis is said to have remarked to a friend, “It will be a grand trip, but there are too many inexperienced people in the party. I fear that before we return some accident will happen which will bathe the trip in gloom.” 

Henry Pittock (in center in vest and white hat) and other members of the 1897 climbing party members. Mazama Library and Historical Collections, VM1993.008 William Steel Collection.

Pittock was one of the climb leaders who led the two-day climb to Rainier’s 14,410 foot summit. They reached the summit at 3:30 in the afternoon, although some of the party, including daughter Lucy, turned back due to altitude sickness. Pittock was sixty-three years old at the time of his Rainier climb. 

Of the 75 climbers who started out, 59 made the summit, a remarkable record for what we in modern times would consider amateurs. As Curtis had feared before the outing began, the death of Professor Edgar McClure, of the University of Oregon, who fell on the descent, put a terrible damper on what was an otherwise successful climb and gathering. 

At the annual meeting in October of 1897, Pittock lost his bid for reelection to the presidency of the Mazamas, on a vote of 17-2. His defeat didn’t dampen his enthusiasm for the Mazamas, thankfully. On July 21, 1898, Henry and Lucy celebrated with the Mazamas atop Mount St. Helens during that year’s Annual Outing. The following year, 1899, the Pittocks and the Mazamas traveled north to Lake Chelan in Washington state for that year’s Annual Outing. In the reporting of the outing, it’s noted that Henry and Georgiana Pittock arrived “just a little too late for the climb of Mt. Sahala.” The presence of Georgiana was more than likely an indication that Henry had no intention of climbing that year. 

In 1901 Pittock traveled south with a Mazama contingent that included Rodney Glisan and others, to join the Sierra Club’s outing to the High Sierra. In his photo album from the trip, Glisan included an image of the sixty-seven-year-old Pittock sitting in the shade with John Muir. It’s unknown the level of activity Pittock engaged in during the Sierra Club outing. 

Pittock makes one last appearance at the basecamp for the 1912 Mazama climb of Mt. Hood. He can be seen, in both photographs and in rare film footage, milling around with the other climbers in front of Cloud Cap Inn. This likely marks the end of Henry Pittock’s mountaineering career. He would have been 76 years old—at a time when age weighted more heavily on an individual than it does now. 

Henry Pittock’s death in 1919 corresponds with the end of the golden age of mountaineering in the region. He led by example, and had a profound impact on the development of mountaineering in the Pacific Northwest. Along with William Steel and the other founders of the Mazamas, he worked to promote mountaineering through word and deed. To paraphrase Erik Weislberg, they were part of a modernizing of American culture which emerged after the Civil War and whose scientific, nationalistic, reformist, and professional proclivities praised exploring, record-keeping, record-setting, publishing, and promoting. Their efforts acted as part of a process that made good citizens out of pioneers. With nationalism and public service in mind, they promoted themselves and their environment as they climbed mountains around the Northwest. 

The Thrill of the Climb: The Pittocks and early mountaineering in Oregon in on display at the Pittock Mansion through July 3, 2022. The exhibit, featuring over 40 artifacts from the Mazama Library and Historical Collections, explores the Pittock family’s love of the sport and the early history of mountaineering in Oregon. Go see it today! 

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Mazamas 2022: The Road Ahead, Part 1

by Kaleen Deatherage, Interim Executive Director

I’d like to begin by thanking all of you who attended or watched via YouTube our listening session in March, as well as those of you who have taken your time to email or stop by for a conversation as we work together to define the road ahead for the Mazamas. This is YOUR organization, and it’s heartening to see the level of engagement and care that members, staff, and the board have for our mission and our future.

Your questions and feedback from the listening session, along with the ongoing work of the staff and board, have helped us to clarify our next steps. We are going to focus on the following priorities in the coming months:

  • Financial oversight and budget planning—to overcome the deficit and rebuild the Mazamas financial assets and stability. 
  • Identify revenue sources and build a fundraising plan—initiate new approaches to program/activity pricing and new sources of revenue generation to improve the bottom line.
  • Role clarity and responsibility for decision making—clearly define the respective roles, reporting, and decision-making authorities of volunteer leaders, staff, and the board.
  • Propose bylaws amendments—a well-planned process to identify needed changes, share rationale with members, hold discussions, and move to a vote within a timeline that resolves issues before hiring a new permanent ED and launching a strategic planning process. 
  • Improve communication organization-wide—develop and lead a well-planned, pro-active approach to communications to help support and maintain a positive and cohesive community dynamic and engaged membership.

We’ll be actively using all the Mazama communication channels to share the work happening on these priorities, and we’ll be reaching out to many of you to help contribute to these efforts, so please answer your door when we come knocking!   

One of the takeaways I had from the listening session was a recognition that it could be helpful to clarify the most common nonprofit operational and governance structures, to explain what structure Mazamas currently operates with, and to suggest some structural adjustments that could better fit your present needs and set the Mazamas up for success on the road ahead.  

With that in mind, let’s dive into a conversation to better understand and compare nonprofit structures. 

What is a Nonprofit Organization? 

A nonprofit is an entity that is driven by a dedication to a social cause in areas such as religion, science, environment, public health, social service, or education. Unlike corporations, all revenues earned by a nonprofit organization are used in furthering its mission-focused objectives instead of being distributed to shareholders or employees of the organization.

Nonprofits in most jurisdictions are tax-exempt, meaning that they do not pay income tax on the income that they receive. Non-profit organizations in the United States are monitored by the IRS using Code Section 501(c). The code determines an organization’s eligibility for the nonprofit organization’s status.  The revenues earned by a nonprofit organization are mainly from donations from individuals and corporate organizations, as well as from fundraising activities.

The donations are tax-deductible for the individuals or corporations that contribute, and the organization is not required to pay taxes on the monies. Nonprofits are accountable to their donors, volunteers, and the community. The projects nonprofits undertake help build public confidence in the organization.

Although nonprofit organizations are not driven by a profit motive, they must collect revenues that help them further their specific social cause. Nonprofits may also receive sponsorship for specific projects and events from corporations, government funding via grants or contracts, merchandise sales, and even private investments.

Due to the important role that nonprofit organizations play in shaping the community, over the years they’ve been forced to adopt new methods of raising revenue to be financially stable. Over-reliance on donations and events may create cash flow problems for organizations when the donors fail to make contributions, or the amounts donated fall below the funding levels needed to remain sustainable.

Membership

With a nonprofit definition and their basic purpose established, let’s now talk about the term “membership.” What’s important to understand is that in the non-profit sector, membership often has many meanings.

Let’s begin with the membership structure and definition that the Mazamas currently operate under, which is a formal membership structure. A formal membership organization is a nonprofit that grants its members specific rights to participate in its internal affairs. These rights are established in the articles of incorporation and defined in more detail in the bylaws. Usually, in a formal membership organization, members elect the board and/or the officers; approve changes in the bylaws; and authorize major transactions such as mergers and dissolution of the organization. In short, members have a strong interest and voice in the future of the organization and not just in the tangible benefits that they receive as members. For example, trade associations, chambers of commerce, and churches are typically membership organizations in which the members rely on the organization to advocate for better business opportunities or the religious beliefs and practices of a particular line of business or faith community. 

To a high degree this structure is a leftover of a bygone era of fraternal orders—Elks and Lions clubs, Freemasons, Rotary, Kiwanis—that quite honestly no longer play a significant role in today’s society. Formal membership structures, when set up in decades past, were not designed to welcome the general public. In fact, they were often designed to define the criteria that would allow certain people to join and intentionally keep other people out. This reality doesn’t mean that there is no place today for a nonprofit with a formal membership structure, but it does reveal a truth that you can no longer avoid. And that truth is it’s time for organizations like Mazamas, that still operates under an outdated nonprofit model, to take a hard look at adjusting your membership and governance structure to re-establish your relevance in the alpine and mountaineering community and to determine how, going forward, the Mazamas can make a meaningful impact on the general public. 

The structure we’ve just discussed is a formal membership structure, so what is an informal membership organization? Informal membership is a practical way to integrate supporters or donors into an organization. This type of nonprofit doesn’t have formal members, it has a membership program. In contrast to a formal membership nonprofit that grants its members specific rights to participate in its internal affairs, nonprofits with membership programs are creating a means of incentivizing donations and involvement within their organization. The nonprofit extends additional engagement opportunities to members in exchange for donations in the form of membership fees. The benefit of a membership program is that nonprofits can not only reap the benefits of extra donations through membership fees, but they also provide specialized perks and engagement opportunities for invested supporters—without the added complexity and burden of managing a membership-based governance model. Implementing a membership program is a nonprofit fundraising and stewardship strategy. It is not connected to how the nonprofit is governed.

For instance, you may have heard an Oregon Public Broadcasting pledge drive asking for members to join and donate to the station. They are using “membership” as a way to raise money, allowing people or businesses to participate in their membership program by making monthly or annual donations in exchange for services like an insider newsletter or invitations to member-only events. These “donor members” are interested in OPB’s mission and find the benefits package useful. And giving a donor the right to proudly claim and display “membership status” (on a tote bag, for example) can be a powerful donation motivator. 

Well documented in nonprofit literature is the following truth, changing a formal membership structure into a self-sustaining board structure tends to be a challenging task. It asks members to give up some of their power to help an organization become more flexible by giving the board more latitude to take action, allowing them to respond much quicker to changes in the external environment like the economy; the shifting nonprofit fundraising landscape; the prevailing social issues of the day; and many other factors that nonprofit senior staff members and board members must adapt to on a daily basis. That ask is never easy, especially for those who are long-tenured members accustomed to the formal membership structure. 

Because our future nonprofit structure is what the Mazamas membership needs to consider, let’s dive a little deeper into member-driven vs. board-driven structures. A nonprofit corporation can choose to be governed by formal voting members or by a self-sustaining board. The governing body of your nonprofit organization is empowered and responsible for setting direction, strategic decision-making, compliance, operating-policy setting, fiscal oversight, and overall accountability for the organization in fulfilling its vision. Recognizing that selecting the best governing structure is vital to ensuring the success, growth, and development of a nonprofit organization, the savviest nonprofits revisit their structure from time to time with open-mindedness about making necessary changes to increase their relevance and competitiveness in the nonprofit sector. 

To do this, it’s critical to understand the difference between a governing structure that is board of directors-driven, or one that also incorporates a governing membership. Membership governance typically involves individuals—members—who are allowed to vote on some or all of the following: matters of governance, direction, approval of budgets, activities, staffing, and/or substantial financial obligations that the organization might undertake, or the approval of long-term contracts. This structure may include members voting to appoint a board of directors or an executive committee to manage the day-to-day operations of the organization and then the membership only votes on specific actions as necessary for the success of the organization. The board may bring those types of issues before the members as necessary. Membership may require membership dues to be a voting member of the organization, or not. Membership may also include benefits, such as discounts to participate in activities of the organization where participants are required to pay fees, or perhaps have access to special activities for members only. Eligibility criteria for membership is clearly defined, as well as what the benefits to members and their responsibilities will be.

This structure works well for organizations who want a democratic structure where each member has a say in what happens. The following types of nonprofits are typically member-driven since their primary goal is to serve their members:

  • Chambers of commerce
  • Churches
  • Social clubs
  • Trade associations

With a board-governed organization, there are either no official members or members with only limited rights. If a nonprofit corporation does not have a membership structure, its board will be self-sustaining instead of being elected by members. In this setup, board members elect their replacements themselves, usually via a board nominating committee, and the board of directors is the highest authority in the nonprofit corporation. This means that board members must accept responsibility for setting direction, making decisions, and managing the activities of the organization, whether they hire others—an executive director, staff, or independent contractors—to carry it out or use volunteers. In this governing framework, the board is not accountable to another body. Most charities choose a board-driven structure.

It may be possible for Mazamas to retain voting members and still be governed by a self-sustaining board, this is something I believe should be considered carefully. Would the membership be willing to change the bylaws, granting the board greater ability to make decisions, set board terms of service, choose board members based on criteria that helps the Mazamas to be viable in 2022 and beyond, and conduct the daily affairs of the organization with an enhanced ability to make real-time decisions to adapt to the environment without waiting for an annual vote of the membership?

To help you sort through these important decisions, my next article will be an exploration of nonprofit bylaws and some specific recommendations around how the Mazamas could elect to update its bylaws to overcome some of the obstacles the organization is facing today and to set yourselves up to raise more money and make a greater impact in the alpine community, as well as throughout the reigon. 

If you would like to learn more about the efforts to stabilize and prepare the Mazamas for the future, please join us for our next virtual town hall event on Monday, May 9. Look for the link to register in the eNews and on the Mazamas social media channels.

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Better Together

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. 


Above: BCEP 2021 Team #2 celebrates successfully graduating in May, 2021. Pictured (back to front, left to right): Jonathan Pape, assistant Laura Guderyahn, assistant Bridget Martin, leader Larry Beck, Rocio Herrera, Olivia Girod, Jules Williams, Andy Robbins, Randy Uhde. Not pictured: assistant Rebecca Lewis. Photo by Rebecca Lewis.

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.

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Hints on outing equipment

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. 

One of the few legally licensed Mazama brand-named products.

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. 

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Strong Long

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

Yunlong Ong on the summit of Mt. Adams. Photo by Ian McCluskey.

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.”

Yunlong’s dad and friends on the summit of Borneo’s Mt. Kinabalu, 1966.

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.”

Yunlong on the summit of Mt. Shuksan. Photo by Daven Berg.

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.” 

Yunlong on Kilimanjaro. Photo by Daven Berg.

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.

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FIRE

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. 


View of the fire from North Sister. Photo: Ania Wiktorowicz

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.


Smoke seen from the trail to the Pole Creek trailhead.
Photos: Ania Wiktorowicz.

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

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Statement in Support of our AAPI Community Members

Last June, we released a statement that led with,

Being and feeling safe is a right for all people.
This is not true for many within our community.

Today, we are reaffirming that statement and voicing our support for our Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) community members. The murderous rampage on March 17 in Atlanta by a racially-motivated gunman, led to the deaths of eight individuals, six of whom were Asian women. This alone is a horrific and tragic event. But it is not an isolated incident. The United States has a long history of anti-Asian violence and hate which has only intensified during the COVID-19 pandemic.

We are dedicated to actively listening to the Asian members of our community, to receiving feedback, and implementing change. We want you to know that we see you, we hear you, and we are working to become an organization where you feel fully supported and welcome.

Today, we are calling upon our Mazama community to show their support for our AAPI members and to aid in disrupting the cycle of violence and hate. We ask you to act to prevent gender-motivated harassment and violence in our communities, and to learn about the history of racism and violence against Asians in this country. And we ask you to question your everyday interpretations, judgements, and actions as you review the list of resources below.

A few action steps the Mazamas have taken in the last year to address the culture of systemic racism and gender-based violence within our community:

  • Launched an online Preventing Sexual Harassment & Sexual Assault training.
  • Published an Equity Statement that was crafted by our Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion team.
  • Supported a Mazama board member and committee member’s enrollment in the Intertwine Alliance Equity & Inclusion Cohort.
  • Supported two staff members attending The Outdoor CEO Diversity Pledge Fundamentals Training.
  • Implemented learnings from that training including updating language in our job postings and accessibility language on our website.
  • Worked with our partner outdoor organizations to schedule a Systemic and Structural Racism 2-day intensive training for our Executive Director and a board member. The learnings from this training will be shared with our membership. (scheduled for October 2021)
  • The Mazama Board voted to sign on to the Outdoor CEO Diversity Pledge.

Several other initiatives, including proposed amendments to our organization’s bylaws, are in progress. This is just the beginning of our work to make the Mazamas a truly welcoming and inclusive place.

What can you do to learn more and provide support to our AAPI community?

ACT
If you witness anti-Asian harassment or violence, you can use the 5 Ds of bystander intervention (from Hollaback! Learn more on their website).

  1. Distract: Find a way to pull attention away from the situation, or the person being attacked.
  2. Delegate: Evaluate the situation and organize others to respond.
  3. Document: Record the incident. Keep a safe distance when recording, and always ask the person targeted what they want you to do with the footage. Do not further victimize an individual by posting a video/audio without their knowledge.
  4. Delay: After the incident, check in with anyone who was affected to show them that their experience and well-being matters, and that you see and value them.
  5. Direct: Step forward in a situation directly and intervene, either physically or verbally.

You can sign up for a virtual Bystander Intervention training jointly organized by Asian Americans Advancing Justice and Hollaback! here.

The Mazamas does not tolerate violence or racism in our community. If you have witnessed or been subject to harassment while participating in our courses, activities, or events, we implore you to file an incident report. To the extent possible, confidentiality will be maintained except as necessary to conduct the investigation and take appropriate remedial action.

You can read the Mazama Harassment Policy and file a report here.

LEARN
Most of us have a lot to learn when it comes to racism, anti-racism, and allyship in the United States, particularly as it relates to the history and prevalence of anti-Asian rhetoric. There are hundreds of important resources available online, in the library, and through your headphones. Here are a few places and statements to get us started:

We also encourage you to learn more about Oregon State Bill 289, which would increase penalties for bias crimes perpetrated on Oregon public lands and provide means for restorative justice. Email your state senator to share your support and encourage them to vote for this bill.

The Mazama staff would like to thank the members of our Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion team who continue to hold us accountable and encourage us to use our platform to denounce hate. Their time, efforts, and support are critical to the Mazamas becoming a more inclusive and just organization.

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Is it Time for a Change?

by Sarah Bradham, Acting Executive Director

Within the next few months the Mazama membership will have the opportunity to vote on several updates to the Mazama bylaws. There are four proposed bylaws amendments; one related to policies and procedures, and two about the composition of the Executive Council. The fourth change is regarding bringing an end to our glaciated peak membership requirement.

Since our founding on Mt. Hood on July 19, 1894, joining the Mazamas has required stepping foot on the summit of a glaciated peak, and having arrived at the summit under your own power. Throughout the course of our history we have had people of all ages join the Mazamas (we believe the youngest was 3 when they joined!). Whether you climbed Mt. Hood, Everest, or Old Snowy, the glaciated peak summit has been the one common denominator for all of our members. 

The roots of the glaciated peak requirement are in the Oregon Alpine Club, which was formed in 1887. The original idea for the club was mountaineering, but it didn’t take long to expand to include photography, literature, boating, and more. In 1894, William Steel saw an opportunity to create a new group, the Mazamas, which would unify around mountaineering through a membership requirement written into the bylaws, where it has remained since.

Through the years, the Mazamas, just like the Oregon Alpine Club and The Mountaineers (which was an offshoot of the Mazamas) expanded its offerings. The Local Walks Committee was formed in 1912 and was the early incarnation of our current Trail Trips Committee. There have been square dancing events and photography exhibits at the Mazamas. In the 1970s the Whitewater Committee was formed and offered a robust whitewater rafting program until it was phased out in the mid 80s. The Nordic skiing class was created in 1972 and is still going strong. Chuckwagon events, where participants day hike and have their food and gear supplied for them, were popular. Round the Mountain, an annual event where hikers circumnavigate Mt. Hood over three days with nothing but a daypack, while staying at Mazama Lodge each evening, sells out quickly most years with a waiting list. Five years ago we added Adventure WILD (now Mazama Wild) to our program offerings, serving kids ages 4–10 in a summer camp program based out of the Mazama Mountaineering Center. Our Street Rambles program, which was started in1987, is our single largest program based on participant numbers.

The new programming created over the years has increased the number of participants in our programs and increased the variety of people that we are able to serve. In a typical year our climbing related activities and education programs serve approximately 1,800 participants. Conversely, our non-climbing related activities (Trail Trips, Street Rambles, RTM, youth programming) and education programs (Nordic, Canyoneering, Backcountry Skiing) typically serve more than six times that number, with approximately 10,000 participants. Despite this expansion in Mazama programming, we have never lost our focus on mountain recreation, exploration, and conservation. All of our activities and events connect to that core mission. 

However, the unintended consequence of our membership requirement is that many of the people who engage in our programs cannot join the Mazamas. Some of our most dedicated hikers and ramblers, who would gladly go through our hike leader training, are unable to lead hikes for the Mazamas. These are people who we welcome as participants in our activities, but when they want to give back to their community as volunteers, they are met with a closed door—unable to share their expertise on a committee, as a class instructor, or as a hike or ramble leader. 

Every week at the Mazama Mountaineering Center we receive calls and emails from people who have just discovered the Mazamas and are interested in what we do. They are often excited to join and instead of being able to meet their excitement with equal enthusiasm, we must start the conversation with “have you climbed a glaciated peak?” These conversations often end in frustration, confusion, and sadness as the individual realizes they don’t meet our requirement, and don’t know how to go about doing it. 

We have made the argument for years that we are an equitable organization since we allow anyone to participate in our programs and activities, regardless of membership status. However, that participation comes at a cost, as our nonmember rates are higher than for members. Avid outdoor enthusiasts who love our mission and want to help support the Mazamas by becoming members and potentially providing volunteer labor are explicitly not allowed to do so.

If our glaciated peak requirement is about demonstrating skill and fortitude in a mountain environment shouldn’t completing the Elk-Kings traverse in the dead of winter when you frequently need microspikes (if not crampons) suffice? How about running around Mt. Hood in a day, which over 42-miles has 10,000 ft of elevation gain and loss and numerous difficult stream crossings? What about climbing El Capitan, which, on it’s easiest route, is 3,000 ft of technical rock that requires 5.10b skills? All of those activities show a dedication to the mountains and are arguably significantly more difficult than summitting Mount St. Helens or South Sister, and yet they don’t qualify for membership. 

If you have years of experience hiking and climbing, you might be thinking “well, how hard is it to go slog up Mount St. Helens or South Sister?” I feel this is the wrong question to be asking ourselves as we evaluate the glaciated peak requirement. If the requirement is, as we often say, rooted in creating a like-minded community dedicated to the mountains, and yet we view Mount St. Helens and South Sister as easy day hikes, how does climbing either of them contribute to that like-minded community? 

What about the people who have never climbed, but are extremely active in protecting (or creating) wilderness areas to protect the mountains, advocating for the creation of new trailheads to support more mountain recreation, or actively maintaining the trails we frequent? Aren’t those people we would want to welcome into our community that is dedicated to inspiring everyone to love and protect the mountains?

I don’t believe the experience of standing atop a glaciated peak is what unites us. Rather, it is our shared love of the mountains and our desire to belong to a community that is our unifying force. A commitment to sharing in common experiences with others and engaging in activities in which we find personal meaning. That could be teaching someone how to rappel for the first time, climbing to the top of Mt. Hood, participating in a weekly Street Ramble, serving on a committee that helps disperse grant funds to organizations and individuals, planning the Portland Alpine Fest, or travelling with the Mazamas on an Outing, to name just a few of the myriad ways one can actively volunteer with the Mazamas.

For the Mazamas to continue to be a vibrant, valued, and relevant part of our community, it is time to update our bylaws and remove the glaciated peak requirement. As we work to build a truly diverse, equitable, and inclusive community, we must be able to say to everyone who wants to be a Mazama that they are welcome here, as a full-fledged member.