File:Sierra Club bulletin (1906) (14586241669).jpg

Identifier: sierraclubbullet6108sier (find matches)
Title: Sierra Club bulletin
Year: 1893 (1890s)
Authors: Sierra Club
Subjects: Sierra Club Outdoor life Environmental protection Conservation of natural resources
Publisher: San Francisco, Calif. : Sierra Club
Contributing Library: San Francisco Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: San Francisco Public Library

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ichwe finished with business-like rapidity, realizing that theafternoon was upon us, and that, pleasant though theloitering on the sky-line might be, it behooved us tohasten if we meant to conquer our peak. It was past Ioclock before we reached the base of the saddle betweenUnicorn Peak and the high shoulder to the west. Herewe held a short council of war. The snow-field was ex-ceedingly steep—so steep that it was evident much timewould have to be consumed in the cutting of steps. Onthe other hand, if we took the alternative offered, and,circling the snow-field, made the approach by way ofthe shoulder, we ran the risk of encountering precipitouscliffs that might effectually bar our progress and compelus to retrace our way. We finally decided to try thesnow-field. For some little distance it was easy enough, but aliat once the slope tilted itself up so that it was no longersafe to trust to the footing afforded by the ice-calks inour shoes or to the balancing power given by our alpen-
Text Appearing After Image:
The Sky-Line of the Tatoosh Range. 19 stocks; it was necessary to begin the dolorous task ofcutting steps. What mountaineers term ice-steps are gen-erally gashes about the size of an ordinary blaze on atree; but in this case we had roomy landings that twomountain boots could occupy at once. The first manchopped the gashes with an ice-ax, the second manamused himself by enlarging them with a hatchet, whilethe third scratched away the snow with both hands, likea dog after a squirrel. This excavating process was anagreeable pastime for those in front, but we poor creaturesback in the line stood for two mortal hours with a blazingsun beating on our heads, but with our feet graduallyfreezing, and mounted upward one slow step at a time.Part of the way our rate of progress was measured offby the chanting of a doleful chorus, since become en-deared by association to the heart of many a Sierran,whose final word, Change! invariably was the signalfor a one-step advance. And all the while the slo

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