Milky Way Wonders: A Night at Mount Rainier

In July, the Milky Way rises almost vertically in Washington State, moving from east to west throughout the night. On Sourdough Ridge, twilight faded toward darkness, and the stars began to glow. The star band appeared on the southern horizon and rose over our heads to the north. No clouds were visible on any horizon, so the night was perfect for watching the celestial display.

At 10:10 PM, with my camera securely attached to a tripod, I clicked the intervalometer to capture a photograph every 25 seconds, crossed my legs, and sat on the dusty trail to watch the stars. The Milky Way rose to the east of Little Tahoma Peak as if it were emerging directly out of Panhandle Glacier. The dark area was dense dust in the center of our galaxy that blocked the light from stars on the far side. Our sun resides in a small arm of the Orion Spur, which lies between the Sagittarius and Perseus arms, but there is no way to see that while sitting here at Mount Rainier. In July, the Earth faces the galaxy’s center at night. The black hole is someplace in that band, and our spiral galaxy spins around it. Behind me and to the north sat the Big Dipper, gazing down like a giant bear, watching the world.

11:30 PM

The Milky Way had shifted westward, just beginning to cross Little Tahoma Peak. The headlamps from climbing parties were visible along the route from Camp Muir, with some passing in front of Disappointment Cleaver. I wished I had binoculars to see what I could discern about them. They would still appear as tiny ants at eight power, but perhaps more parties would emerge. Each member moves in unison with their group, probably connected by a rope. Maybe they still had spring in their legs. They will need it to climb over 4,000 feet to reach the summit. 

12:45 PM

The left side of the star band rose from the dip between Little Tahoma and the summit. The main center of the Milky Way seemed to emerge from the volcano’s eastern slope. Had it guided the mountain climbers, assisting them in ascending that slope? One set of headlamps appeared to have gone out early and taken a wrong turn, now heading back without reaching the top. I rubbed my thighs, hoping all those mountaineers still had muscle strength left. Had anyone looked in our direction and wondered about us?

1:50 AM

At 1:50 AM, thoughts of packing up were running through our minds. Cold was gripping through our clothes and hot tea no longer did the trick. Just then the largest meteor so far flashed straight toward Mount Rainier as if Thor had decided to wake us up. It was gone as quickly as it came. We’d seen little ones all through the evening and also passing satellites but that one took a jolt out of me.

2:00 AM

The Milky Way had shifted across the summit and now rose from Liberty Ridge. Lights had just begun to ascend Emmons Glacier, departing from Camp Schurman. I was surprised that we hadn’t noticed climbers on this route earlier. When I visited here a decade ago, multiple parties left from that starting point well before midnight. The lead parties from Muir had halved the distance from Disappointment Cleaver to the summit. They might reach their goal in time to witness the sunrise over the eastern horizon. Envy rushed through my arteries. No way was I ever capable of climbing that volcano. Sitting at 6,500 feet, watching others, will have to do.

I turned off my camera and packed my gear. Four hours of stargazing will result in a 22-second timelapse. 

Watch the movement of the mountain climbers working their way toward the summit. Each party appears as a small cluster of lights. The intensity of each light spot might reflect the party size; more people equals more headlamps shining. The general plan is often to reach the summit by sunrise so they can come back down before the snow melts in the sun, making the going more difficult. I wished I’d been able to stay until dawn and see some at the peak.