In 2015 I tried to get in a marathon distance just climbing from Paradise to Camp Muir three times. I made it twice, but was lured off by the promise of a beer and burger at the Naches Tavern – a failure compounded by the fact the Siren who lured me on those rocks accidentally drove home the wrong direction, so I had to sip my failure beer alone.
For Bastille Day 2016, along with Arthur Martineau I managed to go the distance. We took almost (but not quite) 12 hours to for the effort, with climb times of roughly 1:50, 2:15, and 2:30, slowing as the snow softened along with our resolve. Arthur’s descents were magical peregrinations, while mine were chaotic slip-and-slide demonstrations of awkwardness.
And since I love to encourage others to have similarly bad ideas, here is the Route and bearings (National Park Service PDF).
A few things about the nutty Scot for which the camp is named
