"You're it?" said one woman with a huge bosom. "We asked for help, and you're IT?"
#54: Pickets and Dead Men: Seasons on Rainier by Bree Loewen:I remembered Glenn telling me about finding two boys who had fallen to their deaths on an icy day a little ways above here, just at the base of the Cleaver. He didn't have any nets or body bags with him, so he had to fly them out with the cable just hooked to their climbing harnesses. He figured that if he flew the dead boys out one at a time, each hanging from his waist and splayed out with his head and arms and legs dangling down, it would look really bad, especially since, because of where the accident had happened, the helicopter would fly right over Camp Muir and all the climbers there. He decided to hook both of the bodies in at the same time and then he duct-taped them together so they'd stay upright, so it looked like they were holding onto each other.
Synopsis: Bree Loewen survived three seasons as a climbing ranger on Mt. Rainier. Barely, but with good humor.
I know so many women who at one point or another have dreamed of being park rangers. I know a precious few who made that dream come true. But there's definitely something about hiking around the backcountry, something refreshing and awe-inspiring about being out there that causes a little inner voice to say, Hey, you know, you could do this for a living.
Do not listen to the little voice. The little voice lies.
Despite the fact that while her application was being reviewed, Loewen herself had to be rescued off Mt. Rainier, she was hired as a ranger on the very same mountain, in what would later turn out to be park politics at its finest. Her first clue of this is when her boss asks her to make coffee for the confab meeting for a rescue and then tells her to leave. She sits outside and thinks good thoughts, despite being just as qualified as all the men on the other side of the door.
And it's not the last time that happens either.
It quickly transpires that Loewen and the other female rangers are always picked last to go on rescues and basically assigned all the grunt work. Loewen takes this with amazing grace and humor and does the job as best she's able, in many cases going above and beyond the call of duty to help visitors and the park itself. The bit where she's trekking up Rainier in tennis shoes with crampons duct taped to the tips, for instance, because her boots have worn through. Or when her jackets are first stolen and then appropriated by a group of stuck climbers she helps get back down the mountain. And in answer to your question, little_tristan, I think the men plowed ahead of everyone else because they felt it was unmanly to stay behind with the women and because they could not have suffered to be led by one.
Loewen is cheerful throughout. She helps cheerfully, she guides cheerfully and she freezes (a lot) cheerfully. And I think if she hadn't been that type of positive-thinking person, she never would have survived all three years of one incident after another. Like the one where she's trying to save the non-climbing EMT's life and he picks that moment to ask her out. Awesome.
The one thing that did puzzle me about the book was Loewen's decision to enter what's canonically a very solitary field: you go out by yourself and patrol by yourself and man the wildlife center by yourself, when she constantly admits she's a very social person and craves the company of others. I didn't know whether she hadn't understood how solitary it would be, or whether she thought she would be forging more friendships and climbing partnerships than she ultimately did.
But it was still a fantastic book, and I'm going to be re-reading it for some time to come.
Also, as an afterword, if you really like these types of books, do NOT go check out the Mountaineers Books website. That way madness lies. Shiny, shiny, shiny madness.
Synopsis: Bree Loewen survived three seasons as a climbing ranger on Mt. Rainier. Barely, but with good humor.
I know so many women who at one point or another have dreamed of being park rangers. I know a precious few who made that dream come true. But there's definitely something about hiking around the backcountry, something refreshing and awe-inspiring about being out there that causes a little inner voice to say, Hey, you know, you could do this for a living.
Do not listen to the little voice. The little voice lies.
Despite the fact that while her application was being reviewed, Loewen herself had to be rescued off Mt. Rainier, she was hired as a ranger on the very same mountain, in what would later turn out to be park politics at its finest. Her first clue of this is when her boss asks her to make coffee for the confab meeting for a rescue and then tells her to leave. She sits outside and thinks good thoughts, despite being just as qualified as all the men on the other side of the door.
And it's not the last time that happens either.
It quickly transpires that Loewen and the other female rangers are always picked last to go on rescues and basically assigned all the grunt work. Loewen takes this with amazing grace and humor and does the job as best she's able, in many cases going above and beyond the call of duty to help visitors and the park itself. The bit where she's trekking up Rainier in tennis shoes with crampons duct taped to the tips, for instance, because her boots have worn through. Or when her jackets are first stolen and then appropriated by a group of stuck climbers she helps get back down the mountain. And in answer to your question, little_tristan, I think the men plowed ahead of everyone else because they felt it was unmanly to stay behind with the women and because they could not have suffered to be led by one.
Loewen is cheerful throughout. She helps cheerfully, she guides cheerfully and she freezes (a lot) cheerfully. And I think if she hadn't been that type of positive-thinking person, she never would have survived all three years of one incident after another. Like the one where she's trying to save the non-climbing EMT's life and he picks that moment to ask her out. Awesome.
The one thing that did puzzle me about the book was Loewen's decision to enter what's canonically a very solitary field: you go out by yourself and patrol by yourself and man the wildlife center by yourself, when she constantly admits she's a very social person and craves the company of others. I didn't know whether she hadn't understood how solitary it would be, or whether she thought she would be forging more friendships and climbing partnerships than she ultimately did.
But it was still a fantastic book, and I'm going to be re-reading it for some time to come.
Also, as an afterword, if you really like these types of books, do NOT go check out the Mountaineers Books website. That way madness lies. Shiny, shiny, shiny madness.