Women rise to the summit on Mount Rainier

They are all successful women, but it was the camaraderie more than the challenge that spurred them on in a quest to conquer Mount Rainier.

Reverence for the outdoors brought together the seven power brokers, who range in age from 42 to 61, for a recent four-day trip where they let go of what society expects of their lot and reveled in life’s simple pleasures.

“We’re all accomplished in our careers, in our lives, and we’re sitting on our butts sliding down a snowfield pretending to be 6-year-olds,” Sally Jewell, president and CEO of REI, said about her favorite moment of the journey.

Giggling and glissading down a 2,000-foot stretch of icy mountain with Jewell were a retired astronaut, two doctors, a scientist, a nature writer and the leader of a health care foundation twice named on Forbes’ 100 most powerful women list.

“Being on an all-women rope team is pretty unusual,” said Mindy Roberts, who has taught at the Tacoma Mountaineers for a decade.

Most had never met before July 7, when they dumped their BlackBerrys, heaved 40-pound packs on their backs and set out for Camp Schurman at the 9,510-foot level. It was Jewell who tied them all together. She had climbed with some in the past, met others at symposiums and e-mailed around looking for experienced mountaineers.

A late spring meant the snowpack hadn’t yet melted, so crevasses were not an obstacle. The winds were low. It was clear blue skies when all but two of the group reached the 14,411-foot summit at 10:20 a.m. July 9.

But it was the sharing of stories, the encouraging words and gracious offers – and acceptance – to help along the way that struck the women.

“For me, it was a relaxing opportunity to meet women whose lives are so different from mine. That group of women, they have so much life experience and so many stories,” said Lynn Dettinger, who used to volunteer as a climbing ranger.

“There was no competitiveness or angst or anxiety. It was just this very well-organized trip where everyone was so interested in everyone else’s life.”

The women climbed 5,110 feet the first day, picking their way through snow and brush and over fallen logs. They arrived at base camp about 7:30 p.m. and huddled inside the tiny ranger hut, warming their hands and insides with cups of chicken noodle soup.

Three-person tents were popped up on a dirt patch next to the hut, and preparation began for dinner (salmon pasta).

“There’s something about the mountain environment and sharing time in the hut and tents. It’s very cozy and welcoming,” said Lisa Beaudreau, a physical therapist.

The second day had no climbing so the women could acclimate to the altitude. They snoozed until close to 9 a.m., dined on oatmeal and collected snow to melt for drinking water. They also had a short tutorial in how to use an ice ax and joined Jewell for yoga.

Their rest day ended early so they could rise by 3 a.m. and push on to the summit.

Nancy Prichard Bouchard, an outdoors writer, remembers gazing up the mountain she was climbing for the first time. Dozens of headlamps lined the route, shining in the night sky like streetlights.

They roped in and started the uphill trek, waving goodbye to two women who would not accompany them on the final stretch.

Risa Lavizzo-Mourey, who spent months training in the gym near her New Jersey home, was plagued by altitude sickness and unable to continue. Bonnie J. Dunbar, a retired astronaut who until recently ran the Museum of Flight, opted to stay behind, but she sent along her patriotic flag hat.

The others hiked a solid six hours before the zenith came into sight. There was giddy laughter, squeals of joy and jumping around. Then they pulled out the cameras.

Roberts used M&Ms to write “R&B” in the snow in honor of Risa and Bonnie. Each woman took a turn wearing Dunbar’s hat. Jewell got into the downward dog yoga position to stretch out. The celebration lasted 75 minutes.

“There was a sense of elation when we got to the summit, that we did it,” Bouchard said. “Then you realize we made it up but now we have to go down.”

It took two hours to return to Camp Schurman, where the festivities continued.

Dunbar had plotted the orbit of the International Space Station and knew she had three opportunities to place a call with her ham radio. After some unsuccessful attempts, the women heard astronaut Doug Wheelock’s voice.

“He sent down a greeting to our climbing team by name and wished us luck climbing Mount Rainier,” Dunbar recalled.

Descending was less exerting and more fun. The women eagerly slid down portions of the mountain, thrilling at the speed they flew and laughing as the wind whipped their faces.

“It’s like being a kid again but going many, many more miles per hour than my mother would ever let me go down a hill,” Lavizzo-Mourey said.

“Taking five minutes to descend something that had taken us hours to walk up was pretty remarkable,” Bouchard said.

There was a sense of sadness when the climb was over, so they grabbed a pizza outside Enumclaw and sat marveling at the adventure. It won’t be their last.

“To me, it’s not the conquest of the mountain,” Jewell said. “It’s more the camaraderie you get from being with people in a spectacular setting and the accomplishment that people feel when they climb a mountain.”

Lavizzo-Mourey was captivated by the exquisite beauty on the mountain and the fun of climbing it with such remarkable women. She’s putting Mount Rainier on her to-do list.

“Every step was an adventure, and for someone who has never done that before, it opened up whole new possibilities and makes me want to take it on again and conquer it,” she said.

Stacia Glenn: 253-597-8653 stacia.glenn@thenewstribune.com