Thought I would share the story of my climb up Mt. Rainier with my medical assist mountaineering dog Loki. I focused heavily on the dog-specific climbing logistics in the write-up since this is a unique case that will be used by the MRNP staff for future training purposes. As a little background info, Loki and I have presently summited 57 of Colorado’s 58 14ers, and prior to Rainier had completed 80 total 14er summits together. As many on this forum already know, these often included non-standard routes, technical scrambles, extreme exposure, and even a few roped ascents.

Two years ago, I met an amazing mountaineer from Seattle named McKenzie through a mutual friend during a hiking trip in Washington state. We immediately hit it off, and visited each other in our perspective states a few times within the next few years, spending time together hiking, ice climbing, and completing a winter Colorado 14er ascent. The topic of climbing Rainier with my dog came up almost immediately after we met and intrigued McKenzie, who had previously climbed the mountain several times. Though we knew it would take more planning, training, and education than the usual trip up Rainier, it was something we felt was realistically possible. It was also not something we took lightly. The extra responsibility of taking my dog, albeit not your typical dog, was something we wanted to do right, and something that I always takes very seriously while in the mountains. When Loki and I are out climbing together, it’s great seeing how well people respond to him, but on the downside there is also a lot of prejudice and miseducation surrounding real service dogs*. Service dogs are trained to perform a specific task for their owners, and are allowed in our National Parks.

In 2018 for our first attempt of Rainier together, we chose the Disappointment Cleaver route because we liked the infrastructure and access of the mountain for climbing with the dog, in case anything happened to go wrong. We got our permits and hiked up to Camp Muir, the halfway point of the DC route that sits just above 10,000 feet. Unfortunately McKenzie fell ill with altitude sickness and had to descend, leaving just our other partner and me as a two person team. That made the climbing risk much higher in the event of a crevasse fall, and when a big storm rolled in later that evening, we chose to abandon our summit attempt. This year we again decided to attempt via the DC route. As per usual, I immediately checked in with the Park Service to let them know we would be there and answer any questions or concerns they might have about Loki being on the mountain. The park rangers were fantastic about Loki being on route and were excited to await news of our climb. As preparation for glacier climbing, I had previously practiced crevasse rescue with Loki, and he wore a dog harness specially designed for rock climbing as well as sun protection goggles.

On Day 1, we hiked up the Muir Snowfield and then spent the rest of the afternoon and evening resting in the climber’s hut as we prepared for our 1 AM alpine start.

I’d barely managed about 15 minutes of restless sleep when alarms started going off at midnight. After dressing and gearing up in glacier attire, we stepped out into the cold, cloudless night. We decided that Loki and I would travel on the back end of the rope with McKenzie in the lead and our other partner Mel as the middle climber. This would give them both time to react if anything happened and not have us stuck in the middle during a crevasse rescue. We also added a couple extra feet of rope to account for the added risk of having the dog and even out the spacing. Loki was put on a personal anchor system clipped directly into my harness. That way, if we needed to be pulled from a crevasse they’d be able to pull out Loki first before I ascended the line with an extra 40 lbs of dog weight. The rope management was a little more tedious than we anticipated. Loki wanted to walk faster than our slow mountaineers place, which made maintaining proper spacing a chore, and I also had to keep the rope slightly more taught than normal to prevent it from tangling in his feet. After a short time we decided to redirect the rope through his harness with a non-locking carabiner, while still having him tethered to me via the PAS, to keep the rope up off his feet. This system worked much more smoothly and made the rest of the climb easier to manage.

We reached the crater rim just after 6:30 AM, where we dropped our packs and then enjoyed a freezing cold walk in below-zero temps over to the Columbia Crest, Rainier’s true summit point.

The top of the mountain was completely shrouded in clouds, preventing any epic summit views, but I was overjoyed regardless.

After shivering through maybe 3 minutes of hugs and picture taking, we booked it back to our packs, shoveled down a few bites, and started our descent.

On the way down, Loki followed directly behind me, which is our traditional way of descending any hazardous terrain. This worked really well and kept him completely out of the rope line while still being anchored to my harness. Originally, we had been looking forward to getting Loki across a ladder, but alas, there weren’t any on the DC route yet this season.

All in all, the trip went seamlessly to the summit and back, with some extra rope management on my part, and safety precautions and planning for all of us. As far as we currently know from the Mt. Rainier park ranger staff, there is no recorded summit of Rainier by a service dog prior to Loki. Regardless, a proud feat by our climbing team and one incredible floofer!

Disclaimer: This and many other Colorado 14ers are not something I would recommend for just anyone with their pet dogs or even other service dogs. Loki’s and my extensive climbing-specific training, safety precautions, and prior mountain resume are a unique case that has required many years together. I have seen and personally triaged many other injured dogs in the mountains, and it’s both dangerous and heartbreaking. Please please please do not bring your precious fur babies on technical 14ers.

*A kind reminder that only specially trained service dogs are allowed in our National Parks. To maintain my privacy on such a public platform, I have chosen not to share why I use a medical assist dog.