More Reflections from the SK Section's Mountaineering Camp

by JJ Hodgson

When I agreed to go on this mountaineering camp, I didn't know exactly what I was getting into. All I knew for sure was that I would get to do a scramble...a feat which I had never accomplished. Then the trip started to get closer and I started hearing about ice axes and crampons, which for all I knew were medieval torture devices, and I started to wonder what I had signed up for. After hiking in to the Stanley Mitchell hut and meeting all the friendly people who were so excited for the next morning's adventures, I have to say I was even more nervous than before. Not only did I not know what half of my gear was supposed to do or how to put it on, I was surrounded by people who seemed to actually be looking forward to what I assumed would be a grueling day of being tired, cold, and possibly impaled by one of the foreign objects I had packed in!

We awoke the next morning bright and early. I felt sick. I was positive I wouldn't like the day, I felt like I was getting a cold (that prediction came true, and I don't recommend trying it yourself unless you've got lots of toilet paper!), and all I wanted to do was stay up in the warm bunk of the hut. Going through the motions of getting geared up for the hike, I could only look forward to the passing of the several hours that would bring me back to the cabin. After some steep uphill and lot of internal swearing and whining, I found myself staring up at what would be my first scramble. It stood there beside us, looking impossibly scary, while we practiced crevasse rescue. Note to everyone: do not rely on me to save you. My focus was spent ignoring the looming rock that I didn't want to climb.

As you can probably guess, once the lesson on rescue was complete, I climbed the rocks. I was short roped, and I stuck as close to Dave as he would let me, but I climbed them. I then found out that the top of those rocks was not even the top of Mt Kerr. That was a cruel joke. However, the top of Mt Kerr was eventually under my feet, and I have never felt more exhilarated than after making it to the top. The way down was even more fun. We practiced self arrests, and I did not kill myself with my ice axe. We bum slid down a few giant snow slopes, putting all of my past tobogganing trips to shame. We laughed, took pictures, talked about blisters, and scoped out the glacier that would take us up to the President the next day. Everyone was on a high.

I did not greet any other mornings with anxiety. The first day of the trip showed me what mountaineering was. I learned that I could climb a mountain without keeling over from the exertion. I learned that I forgot the pain of climbing the mountain once I got to the top. I learned that no matter how freaked out something made me, there were awesome leaders to make sure everyone got through it all right. The remainder of the camp flew by, with incredible hikes and new lessons each day. I still can't believe that my trip turned from being something I was worried about to something I enjoyed so much. I loved the trip, I'm still annoying my friends with Ivan's jokes and other stories from it, and I look forward to doing another one.