Jackson and Jeremy on summit Photo by Jackson Holtz

We spent that evening and the entire next day preparing for our summit climb. During the day we learned self-arrest techniques, how to walk in crampons and walking as a rope team. The rest of our time was spent preparing our gear for the summit climb and eating as much mountain grub as possible. Despite my usually insatiable appetite, I could barely eat - a combination of nerves and altitude.

"Hey guys, it's 2:30 a.m.," my tent mate, Dennis, woke me up saying. "Aren't we supposed to be up?"

We got up and quickly collected our gear and downed some breakfast. All I could stomach was some hot tea and an oat bar. We were ready to climb. We roped up in the dark, and with head lamps ablaze, started to climb. Soon we were high up on the glacier.

Every hour or so we stopped for a quick break. Since I was working hard, my body and clothes were drenched with sweat, and I felt cold in the chilly morning air. I also lacked carbohydrates and was shivering. I ate a package of Goo, the thick syrupy gel that provides fuel for athletes. It tasted good.

"Hundreds of white and black peaks rippled out under a turquoise sky. Mt. Baker and Shuksan looked close enough to touch..."

We kept going. In the early morning dusk, I watched Mount Rainier become awash in the brilliant hues of the sunrise. I also began to see in fuller light the route we were covering, including the narrow snow bridges over seemingly bottomless crevasses. Somehow, no one mentioned eight-inch wide, melting snow bridges in the marketing materials.

Steeper and steeper. I ate hard candies to pass the time and keep my sugar level up. I added a layer as a cold breeze picked up as we gained elevation. Finally, we set out on our final push and came to the Roman Headwall.

I kicked into the ice, and started climbing, like a ladder, one foot on top of the other. My crampons held, and after about 20 feet of climbing, I was off the ice and onto the loose pumice for the final 20 feet of the headwall.

Once I'd topped the Roman Headwall, the domed top felt easy, but precarious. On one side was a several-thousand-foot drop into the crater of the volcano where sulfur fumes seeped from gaping vents. On the other side was a huge crevasse, several-hundred feet wide with a glacier the size of a city skyscraper slowly breaking away.

Suddenly I realized I made it. I was standing on top of Mount Baker with tears streaming down my face. I had set out to climb a mountain, and I'd done it. I was fit, strong and standing on my own two feet.

Back down in the van on the way back to civilization, after 16 hours of hiking, three days of hard work and standing on the tallest mountain in the North Cascades, I had mountain climber's high - a mixture of exhaustion, dehydration, hypoxia and spent ambition combined with the glow of meeting my goal. Despite, and perhaps because of, being scared to death and pushed to new limits, I knew then that I would do this again. After all, now I'm a mountaineer.

-- by Jackson Holtz