Everett, Wash.
Published: Monday, June 29, 2009

Goodell's boots better be made for climbing

NFL commissioner Roger Goodell and Seahawks head coach Jim Mora are headed up 14,411-foot Mount Rainier

By Gregg Bell
Associated Press

 ATOP MOUNT RAINIER -- So, Roger Goodell, you say you're ready to climb Mount Rainier after training harder than most 50-year-olds ever do.

Well, Mr. NFL Commissioner, you better be.

I scaled the 14,411-foot peak this month and not even Army basic training compared. At the summit, I was happy, fulfilled -- and absolutely smoked.

The commish and Seahawks coach Jim Mora are headed up this 14,411-foot volcano southeast of Seattle to benefit the United Way of King County. Goodell was invited to make the trek by Seahawks chief executive Tod Leiweke, who will join the party.

"I'm ready to go," Goodell said Thursday in a phone interview from his office in New York, "because I don't think I can put up with this training much longer."

I had called Goodell to compare training notes and advise -- OK, taunt -- him a little bit about what he was in for by tackling Rainier, a popular but challenging climb. Roughly half those who start up the mountain turn back before the top.

Granted, Goodell was a star high school athlete in New York state. He personifies the NFL's "Play 60" program he started, advocating an hour of daily exercise to promote fitness in America's youth. And for months, he's been running up and down 50 flights of stairs inside a building in New York -- or running hills in his neighborhood while wearing a 30-pound sack.

"I've never done any mountaineering. I've barely climbed a hill," he said, laughing. "Well, I always love a good challenge."

He's about to get one.

Ten days after I accepted an invitation to climb Rainier, our three-man rope team began our ascent in moonlight at 2:30 a.m. from Camp Schurman at 9,440 feet. It was north, east and about 1,000 feet below where Goodell, Leiweke, Mora and others will try to summit July 8.

For six hours, I was the middle man on a rope team pushing crampons and knee-high ice axes through snow that softened into Cream of Wheat.

I'm a West Point alumnus, so I've been through all sorts of Army exercises, and I still run more than 30 miles a week. Plus, the head of the NFL has a dozen years on me.

But I was laboring.

Rhythmic, forced breathing and "rest" steps -- locking out the back leg with each step to lessen the strain on my thighs -- became my salvation. (Breathing and rest are tips one and two, Mr. Commish). The rising sun and blue sky were brilliant, far more than at any spoiled-air elevations below. We stepped over crevasses that were endlessly deep, sobering reminders that people have died up here.

Then came the head pounding, the disorientation and the nausea of altitude sickness. It hit me as we walked over a tricky snow bridge and a crevasse at about 13,500 feet.

At least I think that was our elevation. I broke my buddy's global position system with a heedless stomp of my crampon in the dark before we left camp. (That's tip three: bring two GPS, or a good map and compass.)

Goodell acknowledged the effects of altitude concern him about Rainier, but mentioned he is an avid skier in Aspen, Colo., where the top runs begin at 11,675 feet.

I told him someone advised me taking Vitamins A, C and E helps combat altitude sickness.

"A, C and E. OK, thanks. I'll stock up on that," he said, sounding appreciative of tip number four.

After unhooking ourselves from the rope above the snow line, my friend and climbing leader Zach Schade playfully pushed my back up the final 50 feet of wind-blown dirt and scree to the true summit. We signed the National Park Service registry to document we'd been there.

"We made it!" I said to the 41-year-old Zach, of Tumwater, and his 48-year-old brother, the equally fit Seth from Olympia. Both are competitive stair climbers.

"No," Zach said coldly. "We still have to get down."

That's the thing about mountaineering, Mr. Commish. No summit is successful until it becomes a round trip. (That would be tip five.)

The Schades and I hiked 20 miles round trip and covered a combined 20,000 feet in elevation in 32 hours, beginning at 9:30 a.m. on June 14.

Goodell, Mora and friends are expected to take three days before they plant a flag on July 8 at the spot Zach pushed me up to. They will climb a more technical route from the visitor's center at Paradise through Camp Muir and Disappointment Cleaver. They will spend a day learning safety and rope procedures from mountaineering expert Ed Viesturs, while acclimating to the altitude at the bunkhouse at Camp Muir, elevation 10,080 feet.

"I've read some of Ed's books, but I'm coming into it pretty ignorant," Goodell said, chuckling. "My biggest worry is having to carry Mora halfway up the mountain."

He was kidding.

The 47-year-old Mora regularly runs before dawn up daunting Tiger Mountain near his home in suburban Seattle. Seahawks players who have accepted their coach's challenge to join him on his five-mile round trip with a 2,000-foot elevation gain have often not finished it -- or have vomited while doing so.

Meanwhile, Goodell isn't some desk jockey hoping Viesturs installs an elevator to pull him up Rainier. He flew in an F-16 with the Air Force's Thunderbirds the day before the Super Bowl last February. League spokesman Greg Aiello says Goodell "is the greatest water skier in the history of sports commissioners."

So he should be set for Rainier, eh?

On June 15, when I made my climb, Zach Schade zapped my euphoria at having made it to the top. "I really need you to FOCUS!" he shouted. "All the way down."

Our descent was four more hours of deep knee bends into increasingly softening snow. The warm sun made the dangerous crevasses seemingly grow before our eyes. Thankfully, slides down the slushy snow saved my worn-out legs. When we passed back through Camp Schurman and gleefully glissaded down below 9,000 feet, my altitude sickness was gone. That's when I began wondering if Goodell had researched his trip.

"I must say," Goodell deadpanned, "I'm not exactly sure what I'm in for."

Don't worry, Mr. Commish, you've got three days and two of the best guides in the world.

Heck, I made it. Plus, you've been tested and exhausted for years, just like I have.

We are both fathers of grade-school twins.
© 2009The Daily Herald Co., Everett, WA