What does it take to climb the toughest endurance mountain in the continental United States with 23 other dentists in order to raise money for charity? This past summer I was about to find out.
A picture in a dental newsletter of dentists on top of a mountain piqued my curiosity. What were they doing there? My wife, Jill and I have taken our last three summer vacations revolving around hiking mountains-Telluride, Colorado, Lake Louise and Jasper Canada, and I even promised her we could hike in Switzerland prior to vacationing in Italy. My wife is in excellent condition and we really caught the hiking bug since we yearn for the mountains having lived in Florida for the past 20 years. It is a wonderful morning workout with awesome views that allows us to appreciate nature and smell the roses.
With these thoughts in mind, I called the number in the article and spoke to Danny Bobrow of the American Dental Company who organized the three climbs to Mount Whitney in 1998. His love for climbing mountains and connection to dentistry and fund raising led him to start a tax-exempt company called Dentists Climb for a Cause. His goal was to tie together climbing, dental teamwork and fundraising for their sponsor charity Operation Smile. Immediately, Danny was interested in qualifying me for their next climb in Seattle Washington at Mount Rainier. How much do you weigh? What is your normal exercise routine? Do you lift weights? Have you every climbed before? All I did was ask about the article and I found myself trying to sell him on the idea that I might be available for the next climb. However, one of his goals was already met as I first discovered the wonderful work of Operation Smile. It is a group of physicians and dentists who surgically repair facial deformities such as cleft palates and lips both in this country and abroad.
That night I discussed the idea with my wife and three children. My wife declined an invitation to accompany me up the mountain, since she felt that it would be way too rigorous to carry a 35-pound pack over a glacier for a two-day period. But my 17-year-old son leaped at the opportunity. Before committing, I tried to get as much advice as possible. I talked to Danny as to what training would be required and if I would be over my head. I called the guide service at the mountain to confirm what Danny had told me. And I later spoke to a few local people that had also made it to the top. I even checked out the web pages on Mt. Rainer, Operation Smile, and Dentists Climb for a Cause. With my wife’s blessing, I sent a deposit for our excursion, and purchased the airline tickets. I was now committed.
Soon thereafter, I was sent an equipment list of mandatory and optional items, and instructions on where to rent them. Unfortunately, all of the items couldn’t be rented at the same location. Inside the National Park, we were able to rent the heavy equipment at Paradise Lodge, where RMI, or Rainier Mountaineering, Inc. is located. I never heard of crampons, ice axe, leg gaiters, headlamp, overmitts, glacier glasses, or capilene underwear. Jill and I never needed any of this equipment. It all seemed very foreign to me living in Southern Florida. I decided to only purchase a regulation type 5,000 cu. in. backpack for my training regimen. Danny suggested that I work up to walking on a treadmill at a 15% grade at 2mph for at least one hour. I also worked with a weight trainer for more specific leg and back exercises. I needed to maintain a good aerobic base with running, and using various aerobic machines.
I had three main concerns. The first was the safety of my son and his ability to train and and endure the entire hike. I signed a waiver form that indicated if he had any problem, I would abort my attempt. The second concern was the weather, especially the time of year we booked-early September. I have enough experience hiking in the mountains to know that the weather changes very rapidly. It could be hot one minute and freezing the next. And the third concern was the altitude. My son had some previous problems with altitude sickness years ago, so we spoke with my physician who prescribed Diamox. I tested it out prior to this summer’s vacation in Aspen without any problems. This drug increases the number of red blood cells to allow for more oxygenation.
As part of my commitment, I agreed to raise a minimum of $3,000 to Dentists Climb for a Cause. I had help from Danny who has experience in this area. It was surprising that with a focused effort, the money raised itself. Danny arranged for press releases in the local papers and television, and I had a form in my office with posters explaining what my goals were and how to contribute. Friends, family, and colleagues naturally contributed the bulk of the donations. Everyone wanted to see my success-which was the safe return of my son and myself regardless of my attempt to summit. In promoting this trip, I was at the same time promoting Operation Smile. On the last day at work my staff threw me a party. As I walked into the office I was shocked to hear a chorus of “He’ll be coming around the Mountain”. They surprised me with a very generous contribution, cake and balloons. Before we left for the airport at 5am, my wife’s parting words were be careful and don’t take unnecessary chances.
As we flew into Seattle we were able to see Mount Rainier for the very first time. Visibility was perfect, and this giant mountain was alone clear above the clouds. When we arrived at the first rental store just outside the Park for our apparel, two large garbage bags surprised us with gear. How would we manage to stuff everything into the backpack? We pulled into the parking lot at Paradise Lodge at 5,000 ft and noticed a climber that just came down. Did you summit, I asked. He looked exhausted and grunted yes.
That night we informally met the climbing group. I was shocked to discover that at age 45 I was in the middle of the pack. There were two men who were 60, and many in their 50′s. We mingled and got briefed on what to expect for the next day. Before we are allowed to attempt to summit, we must pass Climbing School. This day starts with renting our heavy equipment, and familiarizing ourselves with its use. Are these boots supposed to fit so loosely? How do I secure my ice axe and crampons (spikes or cleats that attach to the bottom of special snow/hiking boots) to my pack? How much food and water do I need? How should we dress for today’s weather? Our questions are answered, and we embark on a brisk hike with a “light 25 pound pack” up the mountain for over an hour without a break. Wait a minute. This isn’t the way Jill and I are used to hiking. What’s the rush? Where’s my water break? I quickly adjusted to the idea that this was going to be much more than I had anticipated. Apparently, the guides use this as a barometer to test our endurance for the next two days. As we are told to keep up the pace, the guides are talking like boot camp sergeants, “You’re momma’s can’t help you.”
Will I be able to handle this? Will Erick? Did he have enough time to adequately train? After a relatively quick stop to eat and drink, we are instructed to put on our leg gaiters strap in our crampons, put on glove liners and glacier glasses, and walk to the beautiful snow field with our ice axes. I fumble with trying to maneuver my pack with all the straps and compartments and attempt to follow instructions. At the same time, Erick is depending on me to help him through this. I felt like the blind leading the blind. It reminded me of my first day of dental school pre-clinical when I was always two minutes behind everyone else. We practiced walking up and down a 20%-40% grade of snow, rest-stepping, pressure breathing, switching hands with our ice axe on switchbacks, and self arrest with our ice axe on command in case we fell down the mountain. It was all very new to me, and physically and mentally demanding. My hands and toes are cold, and already I am starting to raise a blister on my left foot. We break for our next instructions for rope teams.
The second day of the hike is over glaciers with crevasses. If one person should fall, the other three or four rope team members should be able to save his life. We practiced team ice axe arrest, walking and pacing with a stretched out rope over snow and ice, running in concert for simulated rock fall, and walking on rocks with a coiled rope with crampons. We ended the day with another brisk walk down the mountain. Although everyone passed, we all had concerns for the next two days. One experienced climber from last years’ summit at Mt. Whitney decided to bow out due to an injury that wasn’t quite healed. I didn’t then understand why he knew not to even attempt this climb.
Feeling a little insecure, I phoned my wife with my concerns. Normally very cautious, she encouraged and motivated me to keep my focus with a positive mental attitude. That night we had a banquet and started to gel as a climbing team. We all realized that our very survival could hinge on the abilities of the person next to us. When someone in our group overheard that I already had two blisters, I was asked if I had moleskin. Not knowing what he was talking about, I thought he was referring to beer. He cut two small pieces that I placed over my soft skin and literally allowed me to continue with my goal.
That night we loaded our packs: sleeping bag on the bottom, overmitts, and Gore-Tex top and bottom shells next, followed by fleece pants and longjohns depending on weather conditions. How much food should I bring? Even after talking to the other guys, I still wasn’t sure what to bring, how to package it, or where to put it in my pack. Experience would soon reveal my mistakes.
We retire early for the evening and awaken for an early breakfast in order to give our system enough time to digest the food without cramping. Having been warned to hydrate, we drink as much water as possible and utilize the extra time for bathroom breaks. We check out of our room and place our other belongings in the trunk of the car. For the first time we lift the fully loaded backpack and cannot believe how heavy it is. We trained with a 35-pound weight, and this had to be 50 pounds. It was only later that we discovered that we had too much food and water.
