Mount Shasta
Jon stares up at the crumbling rock of the Red Banks during white out conditions on Mt. Shasta
This is my favorite thing. This is my favorite thing.
As the midday sun beats down on us, and the muscles in my legs strain against the rocky incline, I repeat this phrase silently to myself, over and over again.
I'm climbing up a giant volcano. This is my favorite thing. This is my favorite thing!
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Jon on the summit of Mt. Shasta at 7:25am on Monday, June 5, 2017.
“So that’s the summit up there,” Jon says, pointing past the top of the ice wall. “This can’t be right.”
While Mt. Shasta is a big, long climb, it is not supposed to be technical. We went the wrong way, and now our only option is to climb down what we just climbed up. I steel my mind. I hate going down. Whether it’s a steep trail or a wall of plastic holds at the climbing gym—going down is my least favorite part.
Breathe through it, I tell myself. Every time I kick in with my crampons, I’m sure that the loose terrain is going to give out below me. My ice axe feels like the only thing holding me to the mountain, and every time I lift it, my stomach muscles clench with fear.
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Setting up camp at Lake Helen, elevation 10,400 feet.
When I look up, Jon is crouched over his pack, staring at me.
“I’m okay." I sound pathetic.
His expression is so intense, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me. I look down at the snow.
“Look at me Marley.”
It is the most serious tone I have ever heard him use. I look up and meet his gaze.
I have known Jon Haas for the better part of a decade. He is one of my favorite people to do anything with: engage in a long, reflective conversation. Collapse into a debilitating giggle fit. Climb a massive mountain. During all our years of friendship I have seen Jon full of joy, frustrated, stressed out, celebratory, sleep-deprived, and stricken by heartbreak.
But I have never seen him like this.
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Scoping out the scene at Lake Helen (not actually a lake.)
In the ten days that we’ve spent climbing together, Jon and I have learned a lot about each other—how we eat and sleep, how we deal with problems, how we relax, and how each of us approaches climbing a mountain. I love going up the steep stuff. It makes my legs and lungs work hard, and reminds me of the training I’ve done. It makes me feel strong. Jon, on the other hand, likes going down.
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