Summit day began early -- 2 AM. All of us were as rested as you would expect at that time of the night. Nevertheless, we all arose and dressed relatively quickly (remembering to be careful not to step into our friendly neighborhood crevasse), in part to keep warm in the night cold, and in part because we were excited about our summit attempt.

There is a reason to get up so early on summit day; avalanches and snow bridge collapses are more likely to occur after the sun has had several hours to warm and soften the snow. The goal of an early start is to get to the top and back down off of danger areas before mid-morning, when the snow starts to soften.

Leaving camp, we carried only the ropes and other climbing equipment we would need for the ascent, and some food and water. Everything else was left in camp, where we would retrieve it as we descended later in the day.

Ascending the glaciers without benefit of daylight, we relied on moonlight and headlamps. The moon provided enough light on the glacier at most times. We needed headlamps only to locate food or water in our packs during regular rest breaks, or to see into crevasses as we approached them.

I was leading the group as we reached one large crevasse. It disappeared under the snow on our left, so I carefully walked that direction, probing every step with my ice axe, to deetermine if I was walking on solid ground or on a thin snow bridge over the glacier. It was not reassuring to find that every step I took, the ice axe plunged easily all the way into the snow, telling me that I was on a snow bridge.

After walking a hundred feet (30 meters) to the left of the crevasse and still finding no solid ground, our guides called me back. The entire party then walked to the edge of the open crevasse to investigate it with our headlamps. I was shocked when we turned them on; they revealed a gaping abyss. The crevasse was wider than a school bus is long, and was deep enough that I could not see the bottom with my headlamp! It was quite sobering to realize that I had been walking on a thin snow bridge over this huge pit.

After investigating it, our guides decided that it was probably safe if we stayed a hundred feet or so to the left of where the crevasse disappeared, and so with me in the lead again we slowly made our way, one at a time, over the snow-covered crevasse.

As the hours passed, the sky eventually began to brighten. We had an excellent view of a lower summit on the mountain as the sun rose. Here, we paused to watch the orange-red rays of first light warm the snow-covered slopes. We also watched as a strong wind blew clouds of volcanic steam (Mt. Baker is a dormant volcano, after all) through the valley in front of us and over us.

The next part of the climb was an ascent of a 35 degree slope of ice. Slopes always seem steeper than they are; the 35 degree slope seemed more like 55 degrees. As we climbed, we were treated to the spectacle of Mt. Baker's shadow stretching miles into the distance as the sun rises, projected onto a haze layer below us!

We finally reached the broad summit, and hiked the last few minutes across a relatively flat region to the true summit.

After all this adventure getting to the summit, two team members pulled out cellular phones once we reached the top at 6:30 AM and called their families. I'm not sure if I'm more impressed with the technology that allowed them to do that, or disappointed with the inability to escape civilization almost anywhere.

. After spending a few minutes taking pictures, resting, eating breakfast, and simply enjoying the view and our accomplishment, we headed back down the mountain.

Descents usually go more quickly than ascents, and this was no exception. We were back at our camp on the glacier by mid-morning. We quickly took down and packed our tents and other belongings, then headed down the mountain and off the glacier. We made one last stop at our first camp, to pick up the few items we had left there. Then, walking on dirt and rocks for the first time in several days, we descended the last few miles in the heat, eventually crossing the stream that we had crossed on the first day. This marked our impending return to "civilization" (a small parking lot where the van was parked) and the end of our Mt. Baker adventure.