Tiffany, a nurse practitioner, is board-certified in psychiatry and a solo practitioner. She is a therapist with the American Alpine Association’s Climbing Grief Fund and the American Avalanche Association Resilience Project.
She divides her time between Virginia, where she helps manage care for her mother who has Alzheimer’s and Oregon, where she climbs with the Mazamas and assists with the Basic Climbing Education Program (BCEP).
Name: Tiffany McClean
Pronouns: She/Her
Year Joined Mazamas: 2018
Present-day outdoor activities: Rock and alpine climbing, backpacking, downhill skiing, scuba diving and horseback riding.
What’s your earliest outdoor memory? Being on my dad’s sailboat in the Chesapeake Bay, which is akin to camping. It wasn’t a big boat, but it was big enough that we could sleep on it. I used to sleep in the cockpit as a little girl and just look up at the stars.
How did you first hear about the Mazamas, and what prompted you to engage with the organization? To be honest, it was a rough introduction, although that can’t be blamed on the Mazamas. I first heard about the organization when I was dating someone who thought they were skilled enough to bypass BCEP and go straight into Intermediate Climbing School (ICS), but the Mazamas disagreed. Then, one of my close friends and colleagues was dating someone who died on Mt. Hood. I had climbed Mt. Adams, South Sister and other peaks, and I really, really wanted to climb Mt. Hood, but after that, I was so afraid. I knew I needed training that would allow me to take care of myself at a minimum, so I signed up for BCEP, and I got in!
As more people seek to recreate outdoors, what advice would you offerthem? I think first and foremost, nature and the outdoors are for everyone. And I mean everyone, regardless of age, sex, disability, race, etc. In the Climbing Grief Fund, we celebrate turning around, and I firmly believe mountaineering is more than just summiting. People need to know their limits, must work to fill in their knowledge gaps through organizations like the Mazamas and be OK with being vulnerable. Vulnerability in the outdoors is absolutely acceptable and should be encouraged..
What activities/situations/people most inspire you? I guess I’d have to say that people who are willing to speak about their own fears and share mental health issues in the mountains. People can push the envelope of fear in climbing and yet still be willing to say, “Today is not my day,” or “I know my limits. South Sister is my Mt. Hood, and I am fine with that..” Mazama Climb Leaders Tim Scott and Pushkar Dixit embody these values and definitely inspire me.
What is your favorite book/movie/TV show/social media account that you follow andwhy? Pick one. I have listened to almost every single episode of Hidden Brain. It’s a great podcast.
What’s on your adventure bucket list? I’ve had to cancel a few Glacier Peak climbs to be with family, so that looms large on my list. I’d really like to trek to Annapurna base camp. I’d also like to dive into a great white shark cage. I feel like that can be done ethically.
This Valentine’s Day, we point our compass to tales of love, connection and shared adventures. At the Mazamas, we believe the great outdoors not only supplies stunning landscapes and heart-thumping adventures but also serves as the backdrop for some of life’s beautiful love stories.
In celebration of this international day of love, we’re delighted to share stories of couples who’ve found love amidst the rugged allure of nature and strengthened their bond through the Mazamas.
Merche & Chelsea
They met online at the height of the pandemic in 2020 and married in a small ceremony at Crater Lake the following year. How did they get to know each other? They hiked. The first trail the pair walked together was Tom, Dick and Harry Mountain. At the top, they gazed at Mt. Hood, never dreaming they would soon stand at its summit together.
Chelsea, a high school Spanish teacher and initially the more outdoorsy of the pair, applied to the Mazama Basic Climbing Education Program in 2022. Hearing Chelsea and another friend talk nonstop about BCEP on a hike, Merche applied too. “I thought, ‘what am I going to do on all the weekends you’re with the Mazamas,’” Merche, who teaches fifth grade in Hillsboro, recalled. “I can’t miss out.”
They both were accepted to the BCEP LGBTQ+ team, which they credited with enhancing their overall experience. “Representation matters,” Chelsea said. “That was the first time either of us had been part of an affinity group, and it was very welcoming. There even were others who did not speak English as their first language (members of the all-Latino BCEP team) BCEP was such a great introduction to the organization.”
But the couple wanted more, so they climbed mountains together that summer – Mt. Hood, Unicorn Peak, Mt. Washington and South Sister, to boost their applications to the Mazama Intermediate Climbing School (ICS). There were a couple of climbs where they said they were feeling a bit unwell, and if they hadn’t been together, they might have bailed.
“But we helped and inspired each other, and it was so amazing to be on top of Mt. Hood together,” Chelsea said. “It’s so wonderful to have a hobby like climbing that we share.”
Chelsea and Merche are in the midst of ICS and have signed up to assist with the LGBTQ+ BCEP team again this year.
Kirk & Debbie
Debbie and Kirk met on the ICS committee in 2018, but it would take a few out-of-character, post-committee group pub gatherings, texts and a spare ticket to a soccer game before they truly clicked.
“Kirk is a major introvert,” said Debbie, who also noted she’s very shy. “I learned later he never went for beers after committee meetings.”
“Yeah, there was no way I was just going to ask her out,” Kirk said, recalling the group email he sent inquiring if anyone wanted to go to a Timbers game. He wasn’t looking for just anyone though, and lucky for him, Debbie was the only taker.
But even during the soccer match, Debbie didn’t think it was a real date. That didn’t happen until they had been texting a lot, they had a free weekend from ICS, and they went to the beach and went for a hike.
“The rest, as they say, is history,” they both joked. That summer, the pair began climbing a fair bit together, and they backpacked around Mt. Adams. Then Debbie had a bad fall.
“It was really bad,” Kirk said. “She fell like 30 feet.” She suffered a concussion, broke her heel. As a result, the couple spent a lot of time indoors, getting to know each other.
“I couldn’t do anything, and I really appreciated how supportive he was,” Debbie said. “I just wasn’t myself, and he was just wicked patient through all that.”
Fast forward to July 2019. Kirk proposed on the day off, between climbing South Early Winter Spire and Liberty Bell in the North Cascades. Their first wedding date, in 2020, was delayed due to COVID. In 2021, they opted for a small backyard ceremony at Kirk’s parents’ house in West Linn. Both had been married before and have kids ranging in age from 24 to 33.
Kirk and Debbie assisted with BCEP, with Debbie in Leadership Development and Kirk a longtime climb leader. Together, they have run the LGBTQ+ BCEP team the past few years as allies, and have been so happy to meet the demand for that affinity space.
Jeff & Freda
Jeff and Freda, who have run and continue to help with our Nordic and Backcountry Ski programs, met in November 1999. They both attended the Mazamas Annual Banquet at the Oregon Zoo. They met in the beverage line, and later, by coincidence, they wound up seated across from each other at dinner.
A few weeks later, Jefff got Freda’s number from a friend. They had dinner once, and shortly thereafter, Jeff took on a huge work project, and over the next year, he put in 60- to 100-hour weeks and had no time for a social life.
But he emerged that following spring, when the project was over. He helped out with a BCEP class, and in another coincidence, Freda was assisting the same class. Late on the Ruckel Ridge conditioning hike, while descending from Benson Plateau, Freda and Jeff happened to be together in the back. They chatted, and Jeff asked if she would be interested in picking up where they left off 16 months prior.
“Maybe” she said. “I have two questions…My dad was a school teacher, and in the summer he framed houses. Any man in my life needs to be handy. Do you know which end of a hammer to hold onto?”
Jeff replied: “Yeah. What’s your second question?”
Freda: “I intend to be married by the time I’m 50, and right now I’m 48. Are you still interested?”
Three-and-a-half years later they married at an outdoor wedding with a cloudburst rainstorm interruption between their vows. And they’re still going strong, living a life of adventure and volunteerism, with the Mazamas and beyond.
Kristie grew up staring at Mt. Saint Helens from her living room window and has been living around the Northwest long enough to remember its eruption in May 1980. Since then, she has skied and climbed several of the Northwest volcanoes and loves to suffer by running ultramarathons around mountains.
When Kristie is not outside, she can be found working as a Nurse Practitioner in a small clinic in Hood River, practicing the piano, or having fun in the bouldering gym. She recently became an empty nester after sending two kids off to college, and is enjoying having more time on her hands to pursue more wilderness medicine teaching and adventure, including, Intermediate Climbing School (ICS, which she is currently taking) and volunteering for the Mazama first aid committee and the Basic Climbing Education Program (BCEP).
Name: Kristie Mitchell
Pronouns: She/her
Year Joined Mazamas: 2018
Present-day outdoor activities: I spend most of my spring/summers trail runni
ng, mountaineering or mountain biking. My winters I spend Nordic and backcountry skiing with some downhill skiing thrown in. I hope to incorporate some rock climbing post-Intermediate Climbing School (ICS) once the weather improves!
What’s your earliest outdoor memory? I remember my first day skiing like it was yesterday. I was 6 years old and enrolled in Powder Hounds ski school at Timberline. It was cold, and I fell a lot. I remember being very frustrated until after lunch and hot chocolate. Then parts of it became more fun. It obviously stuck!
How did you first hear about the Mazamas, and what prompted you to engage with the organization? I first heard of the Mazamas through a friend. I was looking to climb Mountain Hood again (initially I climbed it with Timberline Mountain Guides) and wanted to connect with more people to climb with.
As more people seek to recreate outdoors, what advice would you offerthem? Enjoy the outdoors, but be prepared to be humbled. There is a lot that can go wrong, and being prepared (and in good fitness) is the key to enjoyment.
What activities/situations/people most inspire you? I love long days on the trails or climbing routes, particularly when it involves mountains and views and multiple terrains. I especially love being in the present moment and in awe of nature. That to me is the most inspiring. I am inspired by people who are passionate about the outdoors and generous with sharing.
What is your favorite book/movie/TV show/social media account that you follow andwhy? Pick one. It’s hard for me to pick just one. I guess I really like the Sharp End podcast because of the interviewing style, and I learn a lot.
What’s on your adventure bucket list? So many things. Definitely exploring Patagonia. There’s a race down there called the Patagonia Expedition Race where a team of four covers over 500 km by mountaineering, kayaking, trekking, trail running and mountain biking, all without electronic navigation on a course that is revealed 24 hours before the start time. That to me would be the ultimate adventure. If anyone wants to form a team with me let me know 🙂
Trixie relocated on a whim to Portland in 2011 when her husband’s company laid him off. They started their own business, Trixie & Milo When not running a company, Trixie enjoys traveling, backpacking and getting outdoors to explore and challenge herself.
She loves adventure, laughs, bringing people together, creative problem solving, Thai food and volunteering on her favorite mountain, Mount Saint Helens.
Name: Trixie Honeywell
Pronouns: She/Her
Year Joined Mazamas: 2022
Present-day outdoor activities: Hiking, backpacking, trail running/speed hiking, mushroom foraging, volunteer climbing steward on Mount Saint Helens, and hula-hooping on top of mountain summits.
What’s your earliest outdoor memory? When I was 9 years old; climbing trees, and exploring Brookside Gardens (a park near my house in the Maryland/DC Metro area). I remember taking off on my bike after school, and meeting up with friends and siblings at the park. We would adventure out and try to carve out new trails and forts in the woods before we had to be back for dinner. Fireflies would start appearing at dusk and that was our cue to race back home.
How did you first hear about the Mazamas, and what prompted you to engage with the organization? In 2019, I became obsessed with climbing Mount Hood after flying over it. I Googled “Can people climb Mount Hood,” and was blown away by the gnarly images of the pearly gates and quickly knew I had to climb it. I had already tackled Mt. St. Helens, and was interested in something more technical. I had no luck finding anyone to tackle Hood with me, then a friend suggested that I join a group like the Mazamas. After looking into it, I considered taking BCEP in 2020. After Covid I was finally able to join BCEP in 2022. I’ve enjoyed the amazing group of instructors, volunteers and peers, and to this day, we have kept in touch, hiking together regularly.
As more people seek to recreate outdoors, what advice would you offer them? Do it! Don’t be afraid to ask questions; from simple things like, “Do you know what to pack for a day hike,” to “How do you go to the bathroom in the woods?” No question is too silly. We have these experiences to share and learn from each other.
What activities/situations/people most inspire you? Mountains always get my endorphins going! Even when I doubt myself, and think that I’m not good (or skilled) enough to make it – something always happens during the challenge, and when I finally reach the summit, I am literally, and figuratively, on top of the world! Summiting always gives me a great sense of accomplishment.
What is your favorite book/movie/TV show/social media account that you follow and why? Anything to do with volcanoes! My latest obsession is anything to do with the Mount Saint Helens eruption.
What’s on your adventure bucket list? Pico de Orizaba. I love to travel. I’m planning on traveling to Mexico in the near future and climbing this amazing volcano.
Teresa has mountaineering in her blood. Both her parents were active Mazamas who instilled in her a healthy respect for the outdoors. She was just 6 when she first summited Mt. Hood, motivated by the prospect of keeping the small ice axe her dad had rented.
School and life led her away from the Northwest for many years, returning in 2016. That year, she and her husband enrolled in our Basic Mountaineering Education Program to refresh their skills, reacquaint themselves with the splendor of the PNW and make climber friends.
She graduated from ICS in 2019, enrolled in the Mazama Leadership Development Program, began volunteering for Portland Mountain Rescue and led a BCEP team last year. When not climbing, and even when she is, Teresa loves to take photos and share her love for adventure with as many people as possible.
Name: Teresa Dalsager
Pronouns: She/Her
Year Joined Mazamas: I was lucky to get to check out some Mazamas activities as a kid with my Dad, but officially joined in 2016, when I moved back to Oregon.
Present-day outdoor activities: Mountain climbing, hiking, kayaking, biking, backpacking, rock climbing, skiing and swimming.
What’s your earliest outdoor memory: Creeping into the forest (it was actually the woods) with my siblings and cousins behind my grandparents house in Stevenson, Wash.
How did you first hear about the Mazamas, and what prompted you to engage with the organization? As I’ve already mentioned, my Dad was a member when I was a kid in the 1970’s. I moved away after high school and upon returning to Portland in 2016 my husband Fred and I joined almost immediately to meet people who climbed. It was the best decision. We joined BCEP, made a bunch of friends, started climbing regularly and got more involved by volunteering and taking courses. My relationship with the Mazamas was a springboard for joining Portland Mountain Rescue.
As more people seek to recreate outdoors, what advice would you offer them? Learn mountaineering fundamentals and accident prevention through a trusted organization like the Mazamas. Resist the temptation to learn these skills on the fly through a meet up group or anyone who can’t readily provide their experience and qualifications.
What activities/situations/people most inspire you? People inspire me. We all have different strengths and skillsets. It’s fulfilling to witness people overcome obstacles and reach their personal goals through determination, commitment, and sometimes sheer grit.
What is your favorite book/movie/TV show/social media account that you follow and why? Book: A Prayer for Owen Meany, written by John Irving. The main message of the story is “not to judge a book by it’s cover.” This is a metaphor for not judging people based on the way they look. Check out the book or see the movie based on the book called Simon Birch. You’ll be inspired too.
What’s on your adventure bucket list? . Patagonia, Nepal (Spring 2024), Kilimanjaro, & Via Ferrata adventures in Europe.
Rick has spearheaded our trail tending efforts for many years and first started maintaining trails with the Mazamas in 1990. He leads hikes and is U.S. Forest Service-certified in the crosscut saw, a handy skill.
His efforts to give back to the land and instill that ethos into our organization continues, as he gathers work parties in mid-July (20, 21, 22) to work on our namesake trail on Mt. Hood. See our calendar for details and to sign up.
What’s your earliest outdoor memory? Being dragged to Mt Rainier as a child, not realizing it would start a lifelong passion for wild areas.
How did you first hear about the Mazamas, and what prompted you to engage with the organization? My father was aware of the Mazamas a long time ago and signed both of us up for what is now called BCEP. 1969 I think.
As more people seek to recreate outdoors, what advice would you offer them? Recreate responsibly, tread lightly. Many places are overrun nowadays, so be kind and seek the paths less traveled.
What activities/situations/people most inspire you? People that change careers to take on a lifelong crusade for conservation (like Doug Tompkins, established North Face and then left to create conservation areas in Patagonia)
What is your favorite book/movie/TV show/social media account that you follow and why? I’ll admit to posting on Facebook but I don’t Instagram, Tweet, Tik or Tok. Generally prefer a good book ranging from CIA fiction to true life adventures.
What’s on your adventure bucket list? Switzerland this fall, Africa and Antarctica would give me 7 continents so they’re pretty high up.
What’s your earliest outdoor memory? Being dragged to Mt Rainier as a child, not realizing it would start a lifelong passion for wild areas.
How did you first hear about the Mazamas, and what prompted you to engage with the organization? My father was aware of the Mazamas a long time ago and signed both of us up for what is now called BCEP. 1969 I think.
As more people seek to recreate outdoors, what advice would you offer them? Recreate responsibly, tread lightly. Many places are overrun nowadays, so be kind and seek the paths less traveled.
What activities/situations/people most inspire you? People that change careers to take on a lifelong crusade for conservation (like Doug Tompkins, established North Face and then left to create conservation areas in Patagonia)
What is your favorite book/movie/TV show/social media account that you follow and why? I’ll admit to posting on Facebook but I don’t Instagram, Tweet, Tik or Tok. Generally prefer a good book ranging from CIA fiction to true life adventures.
What’s on your adventure bucket list? Switzerland this fall, Africa and Antarctica would give me 7 continents so they’re pretty high up.
by Mathew Brock, Mazama Library and Historical Collections Manager
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.
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.”
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!
Words by Jordan Machtelinckx. Photos by Kevin Machtelinckx.
Faraway sounds wake me periodically from a fitful sleep. Giant machines meander around the empty parking lot, putting my REM cycles just out of reach each time they rumble by. Through my iced-up windows I can see windblown snow pass under glowing streetlamps. The wind creaks as it passes between the glass and the metal of my frozen-half-shut window. I continue to straddle the worlds of the waking and that of dreams as I drift off a few more times.
A sharp knock on my window scares the sleep away for good.
Assuming that’s my brother bundled up in the dark out there, then it must be five o’clock. I’ve slept in this parking lot at Timberline Lodge a number of times before, and I fall into the same ritual of emotions brought by an alpine start in December.
It’s cold. I’m tired. Maybe this was a bad idea.
I could be in a real bed.
There are many key attributes to the perfect climbing partner, but the most important one right now is that it’s someone who holds you accountable to get up at a ridiculous hour, in a ridiculous place, to do a ridiculous thing, when the last bits of slumber inject an ominous sense of doom into the day’s undertaking.
I force down a pre-dawn granola breakfast and reward myself with as many sips of thermos-tepid coffee as I can force into my waking body. Freezing fog gently coats my sleeping bag with ice crystals and going back to bed becomes significantly less appealing.
Packs are closed. The beeps from our avalanche beacons are swallowed by the gloomy dark of the overflow parking lot. I realize I’ve got more neighbors now than when I went to bed in the back of my Element. Lights flicker on through foggy windows in one car. Another van lays newly empty as its owner also starts his way toward the edge of the parking lot; the first steps toward the frequently-sought summit of Oregon’s Mt. Hood.
Clicking into my bindings, I tune into the music playing through the wires from my pocket to try to pass the time slogging through the last trees and onto the slopes.
I’m not wearing a watch today, but the milestones are familiar.
Breaking through the final trees: scrambled thoughts contained within the ring of my headlamp on the snow.
Passing by the rime-covered Silcox Hut: doubt.
Starting up along the Palmer express lift: anxiety.
I see climbers’ headlamps shining through the last siege of darkness above, hours ahead of us. Maybe we should have started earlier, too.
A rest near the Palmer lift house—the highest outpost of civilization, past which hikers become climbers. I watch as daybreak washes away the self-doubt. Rays of sunlight illuminate safe, mellow skies.
Not much further up, climbers who have reached the summit are passing us on their way back to the waking lodge, now 3,000 feet below. I leave my self-doubt below Illumination Rock as I enter the spectacular, rime-encrusted cirque of the summit crater. We are now committed to a summit attempt, graced with pleasant weather and agreeable snow conditions, and my rational mind knows that self-doubt has no place in this final 1,500 feet of technical terrain.
The question is no longer “if,” let alone “why,” but “how.” Which of the many routes up the final headwall will present us with the optimal balance of challenge and safe passage? We opt for an exciting attempt on the spectacular Pearly Gates, climbing a few hundred feet of steep, deep snow into a narrowing couloir. The right Gate is occupied by a slow-moving rope team, and melting chunks of ice from the sunlit cliffs above warn us that we have no time to wait around.
I ascend the left Gate, hoping it goes, because I dread downclimbing our steep, unconsolidated boot track extending below.
But alas, I’m stopped by a six-foot vertical wall of hard, blue ice. The longer I debate whether I should attempt it, the more I realize my forearms may not hold out long enough. The obstacle is spectacular, well-featured. A boulder problem of ice. I want to climb it, but more importantly I want to have climbed it. I want to push the threshold of my climbing past this icy couloir.
I take a few steps toward the feature, shattering holds with the tips of my ice tools. I search for solid foot placements, but my calves are burning. I reach up, hesitate, and reach down.
I want to be good enough. I want to live up to my expectations. But my instincts know better. I’m tired. My pack is heavy. One slip and the weight of the skis on my back will catapult me off the wall, tumbling a thousand feet into the summit crater. It would be foolish.
I curse myself for not bringing a rope and ice screws to make an attempt realistic. I immediately thank myself for leaving them behind since we made good time without the extra weight. I am terrified of the downclimb out of this couloir. I am wrestling with the thought that I may have sacrificed our summit because of my selfish desire to climb a route that is beyond me.
My mind is running wild but I am still clinging to the steep ice by the metal tips of my crampons and tools. I acknowledge the rampant emotions and set them aside, one by one. They have no place here. I have a job to do and I know how to do it. Nothing else matters until I get back to the ledge below the couloir.
Downclimbing seems endless. I hate my footholds and my ice tools plunge deep into useless powder.
We meet back at the ledge. I think we both know it was my lust for the Gates that cost us an hour and a half in that couloir. Our skis will save us hours on the descent compared with our previous bootpacking attempts on this mountain, so we agree to make a second attempt up the Old Chute, where most parties are summitting today. I let Kevin take the lead across the wide-open slope. I’m not going to let my ego fuck this one up, too.
The slope steepens, the chutes narrow, and we pick our way through the final rime formations to the summit ridge. Two hundred easy meters take us to a breezy summit, where we realize our fingers are frigid and we have no time to waste.
The summit is the halfway mark to safety. Long, deep breaths lower my heart rate from its frenzied battle against 11,241 feet of thinning air. I have to maintain control of my body so it can keep me safe as I cross a dizzying 20 meters of one-slip-and-you’re-dead knife-edge summit ridge to gain the descent chute.
The steep, soft snow is a cakewalk after that. We find the highest spot to feasibly transition to skis, as skiing off the true summit is impossible for us amateurs.
Perspectives change in downhill mode. Steep slopes which intimidate the uphill climber in me now appear as ideal ski terrain. My interface with the mountain changes as I now want to be sliding across its surface. I distance myself from the summit, with no more desire to be there.
I ski back toward the lodge, my car. To civilization, to safety, to satisfaction and self-fulfillment. Away from fear, self-doubt, and primal danger.
Back down to where I may find the courage to face my demons once again on another dark, cold morning with my brother knocking at my window.
Since the beginning of March I have had two house guests, Ruth Reitsma and her son Earl. Ruth was a former Mazama climb leader who passed away in November of 2015, and her son Earl passed away December of 2016. Ruth’s daughter’s, Diane and Jan, wanted their mother and brother’s ashes to be distributed on the top of Mt. Hood, and asked the Mazamas for assistance. I was honored to be asked to help fulfill their wishes.
I got to know Ruth through many emails with Diane and Jan, and through photos that they sent to me. Ruth led an all women’s climb for the Mazamas. Ruth’s husband Earl, who passed way in 1965, was also a Mazama climb leader. Ruth and Earl led many Mazama climbs together. I was thrilled when they sent me a picture of Earl’s Guardian Peak award from 1957—when Mount St. Helens was 1300 feet higher!
Diane and Jan recounted how their mother carried sand to the top of Mt. Hood and had a beach party on the summit. I knew instantly that Ruth was the kind of climb leader that I would have enjoyed climbing with.
Diane and Jan and other family members wanted to be on Mt. Hood when the ashes were distributed. They were traveling to Oregon from a variety of locations—Washington, Arizona, and California—so we agreed on a summit attempt on May 5. I was planning to lead a team of 12, primarily my 2018 Basic Climbing Education Program (BCEP) students, up Mt. Hood on their quest for their first Mt. Hood summit. Once we set the day, we prayed for good weather.
Our prayers were answered with a fantastic warm night with little to no wind. I was concerned about the how warm it was going to be and even more concerned about how busy the mountain would be, so I moved the climb start time up to 11 p.m. I told the team that if we maintained a decent pace we would get to the summit by 6 a.m., in time for sunrise. The team rocked it and we were on the summit by 5 a.m. It took us 5 ½ hours to summit.
On our way to the summit we found the Pearly Gates route in the best shape I have ever seen. I thought it was very fitting to bring Ruth and Earl to their final resting place via the Pearly Gates.
We waited for sunrise to scatter the ashes, another fitting piece to this day. The dawn of a new day—in my head I had the song the “Morning has Broken” playing—the song I have told my kids I want played at my funeral.
The climb team donning their Hawaiian shirts on the summit.
As the sun finally began to light the day, we got ready to distribute the ashes. I had told the team that in honor of Ruth we were going to wear Hawaiian shirts on the summit. Fortunately I have an overabundance of them and supplied the team with shirts from my collection. We put on our Hawaiian shirts over or puffies and got ready.
As the new day began, we scattered Ruth’s ashes on the summit while reading a poem that family had placed in the bag with the ashes:
Look to this Day Look to this day: For it is life, the very life of life.
Ruth & Earl’s ashes on the summit of Mt. Hood.
In its brief course Lie all the verities and realities of your existence. The bliss of growth, The glory of action, The splendor of achievement Are but experiences of time. For yesterday is but a dream And tomorrow is only a vision; And today well-lived, makes Yesterday a dream of happiness And every tomorrow a vision of hope. Look well therefore to this day; Such is the salutation to the ever-new dawn!
We then spread Earl’s ashes next to his mother. Finally, I placed a picture of Ruth in the middle of the ashes.
After descending I finally got to meet Diane and Jan, where I presented them with a Mazama Climb certificate for both Earl and Ruth.
Climb leader Rico Micallef with Ruth’s daughters post-climb.
Our climb saw eight first time summits. But, this climb was bigger than all of us, and more important than reaching the summit for the first time. As a team, we were united in helping a family put their mother and brother to rest. I never knew either Ruth or Earl, but I felt privileged to be able to assist Ruth in getting one final Hood summit.
Diane and Jan, don’t worry about your mother I will be checking in with her periodically.
Ruth Reitsma was a member of the Mazamas from 1950 along with her husband Earl A. Reitsma. Together they were leader and co-leader of numerous climbs of various peaks in North America. Earl received his 36 peak award and Ruth received her 26 peak award. In June 1966 Ruth lead a successful all-women’s ascent of Mt Hood. Climbing partners included Dave Bohen, Edwin Rieger, Bill and Margaret Oberteuffer, Jack Grauer. Other climbing friends included the Whittaker brothers. A lifelong outdoors women her worldwide travels included living for two years in Afghanistan. Her appreciation of the outdoors was passed on to her children in numerous camping, hiking, skiing, and snowshoeing adventures. Rest in peace.
Mazama Mountain Science School (MMSS) wrapped up our third, biggest and best season yet in March. In fact, we beat our enrollment goals for 2017 by over 100 students! This winter we partnered with Centennial School District, Capitol Hill, Hayhurst and Irvington Elementary in the Portland Public Schools, and Sacramento Elementary School in Parkrose School District to provide science education to more than 600 4–5 grade students.
Over the course of three days and two nights, students learned about physics by sledding behind the Mazama Lodge, glaciology and snow science through snow shelter building, and other hands-on lessons that meet state science standards in math, science, and geology. Every session wraps up with youth presentations about an exciting topic they learned about to share with their fellow classmates. MMSS not only builds scientific literacy, but inspires the next generation of young people to care about our environment and mountain by building fun and meaningful memories of Mt. Hood.
A thank you to the Mazama Lodge for housing our students and instructors throughout the winter. Everyone, of course, enjoyed the awesome food and had a blast playing inside and outside the Mazama Lodge. Students got to take, what for many, was their first snow shoe hike on Mt. Hood, and this year we had the snow to do it!
We of course could not operate such an impactful program without our partners. Mazamas partners with Multnomah Education Service District (MESD) to provide quality education and programming at the Mazama Lodge. Our MMSS instructors are the same instructors who have taught hundreds of 4 and 6 grade students for Outdoor School and the Oregon Trail Overnight program. MMSS 2017 was managed by Shauna “Chomps” Stevenson, Amanda “Weasel” Duncan, and staff members Emily “Goose” Lootens, Kristoffer “Thunder” Thums, Celia “Mycelium” McLean, Brandi “Sparrow” Boyett, and Elizabeth “River” Longmire.
MSR provided snow shoes for our program, and BOGS boots donated warm boots. Both enabled our students to learn and play in the snow for hours. West Outward Bound also generously lent us extra rain and snow gear, snow shoes, and boots for MMSS students. As always, thank you to the Mazama members who generously support our youth programming and the Grey Family Foundation for helping make this program a possibility.