Search trip reports
Screenshot 2025-06-29 at 3.43.26 PM.png

Trip Report    

Intermediate Alpine Climb - Mount Rainier/Kautz Glacier

Two-day climb of the Kautz Route on Mt Rainier with an overnight at Camp Hazard, featuring straightforward ice pitches (AI2) and lots of penitentes. The descent was interrupted due to a medical emergency, leading to a helicopter rescue at 11,800' — huge thanks to the rangers and fellow climbers who helped along the way.

Isley Gao Isley Gao
July 01, 2025
  • Road suitable for all vehicles

  • Minimal open crevasses. Snow on the approach was firm and snow bridges were holding. Very straightforward approach across Wilson glacier (no parties were approaching via the Fan). Camp Hazard at 11,100' is mostly melted out with a few patches of snow providing running water during the daytime. 

    Trickles of silty water available on route between Camp Hazard and Wapowety cleaver from melting penitentes. Ice pitches were AI2 at most. A few good sticks but mostly rotten snow and frozen dirt. Good screw placements required cleaning off some of the rotten stuff first. Climbing length was about 2 full 60m pitches + a little simuling and then a long snow slog to the summit, crossing some cracks and passing over snow bridges. Once snow bridges melt, more zig zagging will be needed to end run crevasses. Penitentes all over the ice chute made for nice rest spots. 2 70m double rope rappels make it back down to the snow and walk over to the rock step and back to camp. 

    Weather leading up to our climb (Fri-Sat):

    Screenshot 2025-06-29 at 2.11.54 PM.png

    Screenshot 2025-06-29 at 2.11.48 PM.png

Stats

  • 2 days/1 night
  • 60m 8.5 Beal Opera
  • 8 screws (used maybe 4), alpine draws, glacier gear
  • Track  - I used this track to plan our climb. The waypoints are very useful, and I added some of my own: Gaia link

Day 1: Approach to Camp Hazard

Jule and I picked up our reserved permits at 8am at the Paradise visitor center. There were already many parties in line, and groups without reservations were being turned away because all walk up permits for the popular routes - DC, Emmons - had been claimed already. 

With our permit in hand we made our way to the Glacier Vista trail and crossed the Nisqually and Wilson glaciers. Some cracks are starting to snow but just barely. We were in a thick fog for most of the approach so we relied heavily on GPS for navigation.

IMG_8285.JPG

As we approached the Turtle snowfield at ~9700' feet the clouds started to part and we could see glimpses of blue sky. 

IMG_8293.JPGIMG_8295.JPG

IMG_8297.JPG
10,800', Approaching Camp Hazard

We decided to camp at 11,219' (46.8343472,-121.7629389), on an existing tent pad with a rock ring. The sites here are the last ones before descending the rock step.  There are a few other rock rings around here as well as 20 feet below. The original site of Camp Hazard is higher up at around 11,400' ft. There are some flat spots here but it is in the line of rock and icefall and best avoided if there are sites lower down.

7321527637952058576.jpg

Day 2 

Camp to summit

We departed our camp at 4:30am with a late start, hoping to have the first rays of light during the ice portion.

The rock step proved to be very straightforward as long as you don't make the same mistake we did and visit old Camp Hazard first. We realized quickly the rock step was just a minute from our camp so we descended back toward it and found the snow below was quite high, so the descending didn't require any rappels at this point in the season, even though there was cordalette slung around a large block with a rap ring. 

After a rock step-n-scoot, we traversed over penitentes to the base of the first ice pitch.

7327157336331291050.jpg
Rock scoot. Black anchor material already present (right behind me)

IMG_8325.JPG
First ice pitch

The first ice pitch of mellow climbing with a few good screw placements just in case. At a grade of AI2 with pentitentes throughout, there are many spots to rest so the climbing is not very sustained. Still, 2 tools are highly recommended. 

Above this pitch another section of walking up a snow slope to the second ice pitch.

IMG_8326.JPG
NICE VIEW OF THE MOUNTAIN SHADOW FROM BETWEEN THE TOP OF THE FIRST ICE PITCH AND BEGINNING OF THE SECOND

IMG_8328.JPG
Approaching the second ice pitch. A very busy day on the Kautz route!

We pitched out the second pitch the full 60m and simuled another 10m or until the slope lessened and it was more hiking than climbing. 

7807060008422679018.jpg
Second ice pitch
IMG_8342.JPG
After a short pitch of ice, the rest of the route is mostly hiking up penitentes
IMG_8347.JPG
Taking a quick rest before hiking up toward Wapowety cleaver in the background

Over the cleaver, the glacier has open crevasses with snow bridges still holding. 

IMG_8350.JPG
46.8432889,-121.7589278 13,114' just above Wapowety Cleaver

IMG_8352.JPG

After a long while of slogging, we eventually arrived at the crater rim and Mazamas summit register where we took a break before descending. 

IMG_8369.JPG

Descent

At this point we were tired, but looking forward to a smooth descent and hopeful that we would feel more lively after descending to a lower elevation. Despite gravity working in our favor, the descent look about as long as the ascent due to the number of breaks we took. 

As we descended down from Wapowety cleaver toward the top of the second ice pitch, Jule's breathing was becoming more labored, the opposite of what we were expecting given how descending was less strenuous than ascending, and that we were below 12,000' at this point. After careful consideration, we made the call to hit SOS on our InReach and notify emergency services of the situation. The group ahead of us graciously let us rappel off their double 70m ropes to the bottom of the second ice pitch, where we took a few more steps with the intent to continue to the next rappel and wait for assistance at camp. We reached 11,800' where Jule could not continue walking down so we sat down and continued messaging with emergency services. We had brought a sleeping pad, sleeping bag, and extra clothes with us so we hunkered down and waited.

After 2.5 hours a helicopter arrived with a long line and two climbing rangers who transported both of us and our gear to Camp Muir, where Jule was assessed by a medical professional. 

IMG_8383.JPG

IMG_8384.JPG

I will spare the details as a more detailed write-up will be included in the incident report (now pasted in a comment at the bottom of this page. 

Huge thank you to the Mount Rainier Climbing Rangers for their quick response during a recent climb that didn’t go as planned. The team handled everything fast, professionally, and with zero drama.

They got us out safely and made sure we were doing okay afterward, which honestly made a stressful situation a lot more manageable. It’s clear they know what they’re doing, and it gave us a lot of confidence in the middle of a rough spot.

Shoutout to the team of four who let us rappel off their ropes, offered to climb back up with supplies, suggested I join their rope team if the helicopter could only take Jule, and later packed up our gear at Camp Hazard and brought it down. 

At the end of the day we all made it out safely. Jule is okay, and we were able to drive home the same night. 

Screenshot 2025-06-29 at 3.41.27 PM.png
Our recorded track, helicopter rescue and all


 

Add a comment

Log in to add comments.
Juliane Gust
Juliane Gust says:
Jun 30, 2025 05:55 AM

OK, here is the incident report, I am happy to share it with everyone, please learn from my mistakes!

I was the trip leader on a 2-day climb of the Kautz route on Rainier. The climb had to be rescheduled for weather and it ended up being only a 2-person team, which had little bearing on the incident however.

I am very prone to altitude sickness and have learned over time that I don't do well with 2-day Rainier climbs where you spend only 1 night at high camp and then go to the summit and back to the trailhead the next day. Nonetheless, weather and personal schedules forced us into a 2-day climb.

We had a soggy but uneventful ascent to Camp Hazard at 11,200ft on day 1. I felt fine when we got there, but during the night developed some altitude symptoms including mild nausea and a little headache.

On the ascent on summit day, I was a bit slow right out of the gate and felt out of breath. I had taken diamox prophylaxis the night before and again when we woke up, and was otherwise feeling OK, no more headache. Some nausea would hit me if I let myself get too out of breath so I had to walk slowly, and that made the nausea go away. We still made it to the summit within our turnaround time of 2pm, and I was excited to descend and feel that delicious oxygen rushing back into my bloodstream. Strangely though, I actually started to feel worse and more out of breath the further we descended.

I took a longer break at 13,000ft on the Wapowety Cleaver, and here started feeling that I could not really breathe quietly even when I was sitting still. That was the first time we talked about calling for help, but then decided that this was most likely altitude related and I would feel better with descending, and I was still doing ok. When we started back to descending, I could only walk for a few minutes downhill before I had to sit and rest. It was a very slow and frustrating process. As we approached the ice chute (which is located just above camp, from about 11,500 to 12,000ft) we asked another team that was descending at the same time whether we could join them on their rappels to save ourselves some energy. They were very kind and helpful and offered us any assistance we should need.

As I was sitting to wait my turn to rappel, my breathing became even more fast and hard even during rest. I could not even speak a whole sentence. That is when we decided (I demanded) to hit the SOS button on our InReach. The incident was referred to Mount Rainier National Park. A ranger communicated with us via the InReach and we told him what was going on. Then it took seemingly forever to get any answers as to what was going to happen. I made the first rappel down the upper ice step, and had to stop during the rappel to catch my breath. As I started walking down to the next rappel, I felt that I was no longer safe to try to move because I was so out of breath. I was afraid something bad was going on with my lungs, so we called 911 on my phone (we had great service) in desperation. They connected us on a direct line with the climbing rangers and we were able to communicate that we thought a helicopter extraction was needed urgently. My respiratory rate was about 60 breaths per minute with a pulse of 100 while sitting still. I was getting worried I was going to die up there. I wanted oxygen!! The sun was already disappearing behind the rocks to our west, and we bundled up in the puffy jackets, sleeping bag and sleeping pad that we had brought. Fortunately there was no wind and good visibility, perfect flying weather.

About 2 hours after calling for rescue we finally received confirmation that they were sending a helicopter. I felt so relieved when I heard the rotors pattering and the helicopter made a few circles above us and the rangers waved through the windows. Then they disappeared again and we heard nothing for what seemed like an eternity. I noted that I had started to feel a bit better with calmer breathing. I figured I would try walking down a bit, and it actually felt OK. Should we call off the rescue? My climbing partner did not feel confident that I was really OK, and I agreed that it would be prudent to go through with it. And then we got confirmation that they were preparing the haul line to extract us. They told us to prepare a platform for a litter, which we chopped with our ice axes. I felt OK chopping and was getting very embarrassed and confused about my panic earlier.

The helicopter appeared again with two super cool rescuing angel climbing rangers dangling from the longline. They were dropped off right next to us, wearing full mountaineering gear with crampons on their feet. They put in a picket first thing to have an anchor, and then assessed me and confirmed that I still wanted to be rescued. "This is a terrible place to be indecisive" said one. "It won't cost you anything" said the other. I told them that I wasn't worried about cost and was most worried about everyone's safety and exposing them to this rescue mission for nothing, but since we had already gone this far, I was happy to just finish it and be on the safe side.

They clipped me into the longline with a comfortable bucket harness, and I was hauled around the mountain to Camp Muir together with the first ranger. Then the helicopter went back to get my climbing partner and the second ranger. I was so glad they picked her up too, because I was not wanting her to have to solo descend the ice step in the fading light.

At Camp Muir, I was assessed by the park medic and she found a slightly low blood glucose but otherwise normal vital signs and lung sounds, and she felt that it was fine to release me home. I agreed. We were flown down to Kautz Creek ranch and a ranger drove us back up to Paradise, where our car was waiting.

I felt very sheepish and embarrassed about the whole thing, but still am really glad to take the embarrassment instead of a real medical emergency. We are not sure what exactly happened. My leading theory is that I had high altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE). I have climbed Mount Rainier more than 10 times and experienced plenty of acute mountain sickness, but never have felt so out of breath on the descent. Although the medic didn't think that was likely because HAPE typically starts at 2-4 days after ascent to altitude, I looked at the medical literature to see whether this was really true. In a classic study from 2002 (Swenson et al., JAMA) the investigators purposefully induced HAPE in 12 susceptible mountaineers: "The subjects ascended by cable car to 3200 m and then climbed to 3611 m (day 1), where they spent the night in a mountain hut. In the morning (day 2), they climbed in 4 to 6 hours to the research laboratory of the Capanna Regina Margherita, Italy, at 4559 m" Sounds a lot like what we did, except we didn't have a cable car. "In the HAPE-susceptible group, 3 developed HAPE on day 2 before bronchoscopy, 6 developed HAPE on day 3, and 1 remained well throughout." So I do think it is entirely possible. HAPE rapidly improves with descent to lower altitude, so that also makes sense, because I felt better after sitting there for 2.5 hours and panting and oxygenating as much as I could. It was also suggested that I may have had a panic attack. However, I was not really that nervous until some time after we called for a rescue, when I indeed became worried I was going to die. I have never had a panic attack and I don't tend to be anxious. However, I have several family members who do get panic attacks and perhaps I do have a tendency for it that comes out when things get more dire. It does not seem to be any of the myriad of other possible lung or heart problems because I recovered spontaneously.

I would like to thank the climbing rangers, medic, helicopter pilot, and all the other rescue personnel for their kind and professional help. Mount Rainier National Park has an incredible system for rescues in the most difficult high altitude environments, and I felt very fortunate to benefit from it. I would also like to thank the wonderful team of 4 climbers who let us join their rappels, left a rope up at the lower rappel until we confirmed we did not need it, offered to bring us more supplies, and carried our camp gear back down to the trailhead.

Lessons learned:

1. The blindingly obvious lesson: don't try to climb Mount Rainier in 2 days from sea level if you know your body handles it poorly! I have previously done an ascent where I stayed for 3 nights at Camp Schurman, with the rest of the party joining me on day 3, and making the ascent on day 4. No problems at all! Except that we have families and jobs, and weather windows don't like to cooperate with these plans. I could also just quit climbing Mount Rainier but I don't think that is really an option because I love the mountain so much even though it hands out a spanking.

2. We could have turned around when we noticed how hard I was breathing and how slow I was going on the way up. But I felt otherwise OK, we had enough time, and my climbing partner encouraged me to grit it out. Our personalities fed off each other and that mix did not help us make the conservative decision.

3. I should have brought a pulse oximeter. I had packed it but decided to leave it in the car to save 20 grams of pack weight. It would have been extremely helpful for me to see good oxygen levels so I could calm myself down, or if I really had very low oxygen levels, it would make me feel less embarrassed about calling a rescue. Of note, I once measured my oxygen at 65% on the summit of Mount Rainier, while the rest of the party was at about 80%. I was feeling fine and sitting down at that time. So I do know that I tend to run low.

4. We did some things right: we were well prepared and could have spent the night on the mountain if necessary. We had warm clothes, sleeping bag and a stove. We asked for help at the right time. We were safe and methodical.

Juliane Gust
Juliane Gust says:
Jun 30, 2025 06:10 AM

Oh and I would like to thank Isley, my partner in crime, for her calm head and preparation!! For example, she had insisted on bringing radios (184g PER RADIO!!) and those proved really valuable, because we were able to give one to the other climbing party that was helping us, and communicate with them as they were down in camp which was so close but yet so far. She stayed completely calm the whole time while she was arranging the rescue and keeping me warm and safe.

Danielle Graham
Danielle Graham says:
Jun 30, 2025 11:20 AM

Jule and Isley, thank you for sharing your experiences and all of your learnings with us. I'm glad that you are okay, Jule, and I'm heartened by the care you both received from the other climbing party, as well as from staff at the park. Rest up, both of you, physically and emotionally!