In a world where it seems that ever fewer people are willing to take responsibility for their actions, climbing a glaciated mountain offers a sharp contrast. Two climbers had already fallen to their deaths this year on Hood, and Mike, who sometimes speaks as if he doesn't expect you to listen, wanted to minimize risks to the group. The rest of the team included assitant leader Colleen Smith, Paul Litwinczuk, Chris Runyard, Kim Viera and myself. Mike had already cancelled our first scheduled climb of Hood a week earlier due to weather. When in doubt, defer to the mountain and its indifference to the climber's safety.
Climbers seem to be a superstitious bunch.
So, on Friday June 11, I figured good weather was a start. Still, I wondered if I would get a sense that luck was on our side. My first sign came in the climb registration room at Timberline Lodge, when a high school classmate who I hadn't seen in 13 years recognized me. I had last seen Tim in 1986, when we graduated from Keene High School in New Hampshire. He had also taken the Mazamas climbing course and was making his first summit attempt that night as well.