Editor’s Note

Photo by Bryce Mann.

When I was a kid, going to Mt. Rainier was the highlight of winter. My dad would load us up in the van, fully bundled in our snow gear with Costco sleds in the back. The drive up to Paradise from Olympia felt like eternity, but the anticipation of what was to come more than made up for it. Finally, we would arrive at a private

Hailey Oppelt haileyo@mountaineers.org sledding hill (realistically a defunct access road Dad

Photo by Paige Madden. knew of). We enjoyed hours of snowball fights, snowman building, snow angels, and making snow faces (when you ram your face into a snow bank to get a crystalline negative of yourself). But most importantly we would go sledding, frantically running uphill to maximize the number of times we got to careen uncontrollably down it. Many years later I would find similar joy in skiing (don’t worry – more controlled!), but at the time it felt like nothing could be as freeing or as thrilling as those moments barreling down a hill on Rainier. When the chaos finally subsided, we’d peel off our snowsuits and sit in the van with hot cocoa poured from a foot-tall thermos. On the catatonic drive home, I’d stare at the snowladen trees and think that I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life. And you know, I was probably right. As an adult I no longer go sledding, but I do spend a decent amount of time staring at Rainier. From Seattle, the haze of the sky gives it an almost painterly effect, looking more like a spirit of a mountain than a hard mass of rock, snow, and ice. I’ve found that the best spot to view it in Olympia is, I kid you not, by the Target warehouse on Marvin Road. As we all know, I’m not alone in my preoccupation with the mountain. Our collective attachment to Mt. Rainier made this edition’s theme an easy one. It is, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, Mt. Rainier. In Ananth’s Rainier 100, Ananth Maniam shares his thoughts and experiences from his climbs of 100 peaks across Mt. Rainier National Park. Watercolor artist Claire Giordano has lent us her considerable talents once again in Hunting for Watermelon Snow, an informational resource for mountain travelers to help gather snow algae samples for the Living Snow Project. Make Your Own Backpacking Meals is an excellent resource for backpackers and climbers who would like to do away with store-bought freeze-dried food, written by Foothills Backpacking Committee Chair Cheryl Talbert. We’re also excited to share The Stories of Mt. Rainier, a collection of books, maps, and guides published by Mountaineers Books on Rainier and the surrounding park. Love on the Water is a slight deviation from our mountain theme, but I think you’ll enjoy the detour as two Mountaineers sailing couples share their love stories. The Case for Geotagging, by member and climber John Porter, offers a few opposing viewpoints for those unsure about geotagging their social media posts. And to top off our mountain of features this edition, we have Where to Buy Affordable Gear, offering a comprehensive and entertaining guide on how to gear up for the outdoors without breaking the bank. As always, our regular columns are full of useful information and new perspectives. In Craig Romano’s column Trail Talk, he shares a few thoughts on how our draw to places like Rainier can overshadow the equally exquisite (and equally worthy of protection) lowlands. In Peak Performance, Courtenay Schurman gives climbers a few unique tips to prepare for their big summit day. And Retro Rewind shares the story of Alma Wagen, a Mountaineers member and the first female mountain guide at Mt. Rainier National Park. For many, Mt. Rainier is the symbol of our region. Perched on the skyline behind our cities and towns, we look for it even on the darkest winter days. When the clouds break, “the mountain is out” and an undercurrent of revelry bubbles up. It’s an emblem of the stunning natural beauty of Washington and our tantalizing proximity to it, even as we stare out the window at work or from stop-and-go traffic on I-5. It doesn’t matter if you grew up sledding it, spend winters skiing it, while away summers hiking it, or have only admired it from a distance. The sun is back, the mountain is out. Thank goodness.