20 minute read
THE 16, THE 7, & THE 3: THE PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE OF MAZAMA CLIMBING AWARDS
by Ryan Reed
Maybe you first saw it at the Mazama Lodge: 16 pairs of names and elevations in descending order, bold and clear in black ink on your lasagna-stained napkin. Or maybe it was printed on the side of a water bottle. For some, it’s just a list of notable regional peaks, another trivia quiz like “Ten Largest Lakes of Africa.” For others, it’s a call to action.
Ian McClusky remembers it exactly, as a BCEP student at the lodge. “My eyes scanned down the list [on the napkin]. Some mountains I had grown up with: Mt. Hood, Saint Helens, Mt. Adams...some I knew from a distance, some I had never heard of. Where was Stuart? Shuksan? Glacier Peak? In my hand was a simple list, but it represented the entire homeland of my Pacific Northwest. I realized that to truly know my birth land, I would need to know these mountains up close. In my hand was an invitation.”
That list, of course, is the “16 Major Northwest Peaks.” The Mazamas has an award for summitting them on official climbs, along with awards for the seven in Oregon, and the three most local volcanoes—the “Guardian Peaks.” And there’s the Terry Becker Award for leading official climbs of the 16.
A lot of ambitious Mazamas set out to climb as many of these as quickly as possible. They may find delight in other peaks, or make their own bucket list, but these iconic summits persist in the mind. Many Mazamas know where they are on the list, whether they’re pursuing it or not.
Surprisingly few finish. Since its inception in 1935, only 497 members have received the 16 Peaks award. Another 733 members have completed the Oregon Seven, while just over 2,000 have received the Guardian Peaks Award. (The awards must be applied for, so it’s anyone’s guess how many have earned an award but not requested it. And there’s another unknown cohort who’ve summited the peaks but not all on official climbs.)
But the number of awards given out has been trending south for several decades.
Guardian awards averaged 50 per year during the 1960s and 1970s; the last 20 years, only 6 per year. In the same time frame, Oregon Peaks dropped from an average of 17 to 3, and the 16 Peaks from 11 to less than 4.
What gives? Are these awards too hard to achieve? Are they anachronistic?
Should the Mazamas discontinue them, or perhaps expand recognition to different peaks? We asked a few dozen awardees for their opinions, and got quite a response.
The Meaning of Recognition
“I think the award is special,” says Amy Brose (16 Peaks, 2014). “It takes ages to make the 16 Peaks happen, it's a pretty great accomplishment for a Mazama.” But it was more than just a tick list. “The adventures contained in that award are pretty special.”
For many, the Guardian Peaks was a gateway into mountaineering. “I first learned about the 16 peaks in my BCEP class,” says Patrice Cook (16 Peaks, 2016). “I had an amazing leader, Dean Lee, who provided an opportunity for any of his students that wanted to earn the Guardian Peaks award in their first summer as a Mazama. It was a huge incentive.”
David Zeps (16 Peaks, 1998) says the award “gave me credibility with the students in my BCEP groups early in my Mazama career. The bottom line is that awards do confer status, and for instructors, credibility within the organization.”
The Becker Award is clearly a strong motivator for climb leaders. “I’m definitely planning on leading the 16 peaks,” says Forest Brook Menke-Thielman (Guardian Peaks, 2021). “I think it’s a motivator, because once you have the skills to do it, leading a Mazama climb takes more energy than just doing it with friends, but doing it for the organization where you meet new people, and can be recognized for your achievements becomes the motivator. So yes, I do like the awards.”
The effort can form connective tissue between members and climb leaders. “For me to get it, many climb leaders had to accept me on their climbs and
reach difficult summits, and then I had to organize and lead a bunch of them too,” says Amy. “It really kept leadership stoke high for all involved.”
For Ian McClusky, the 16 Peaks Award was a way of connecting to Mazama history. Early Mazama climbers endured multi-day approaches and climbed with alpenstocks and hobnail boots. “These people were bad-asses,” he says. “Although summiting these peaks is infinitely easier today with modern gear, the act of going into the alpine and reaching a summit is still fundamentally just as profound. To complete the Mazama 16 Peaks was, for me, a way to connect to this heritage of mountaineering, and add my name into a hallowed list of those who blazed the way.”
Diagnosing the Decline
So why then do so few earn the awards these days? There are certainly some objective factors.
The average number of climbers on a team declined sharply in the 1970s with the advent of self-imposed and designated wilderness limits.
The Forest Service no longer permits BCEP “Graduation Climbs” of Mt. Hood, which used to start a large number of climbers on their way to the Guardian Peaks award.
Half the 16 now require permits secured (or won in a lottery) in advance, complicating the scheduling for climb leaders.
A thinner climb schedule, still recovering from the pandemic, slightly less popular 16ers like Olympus, Stuart, and Glacier, often accomplished just once or twice a year.
Global warming is shifting and shortening the climb season for many peaks. “I believe [the 16] is getting harder,” says Joe Whittington (16 Peaks, 1992). “Climate change is affecting the routes, and the weather just seems more uncertain.”
The awards may also be suffering from a decline in awareness. Tim Scott (16 Peaks, 2006) points out that the awards presentation has lost its original venue, the Mazama-only Annual Banquet, moving to first the Portland Alpine Fest’s Summit, then to the Volunteer Appreciation night, which has yet to attract the broader membership. “It's become a night for the Old Guard to gather and chat,” says Tim. “It feels insular and not a lot of new blood shows up.” One result is that newer Mazama members aren’t exposed to the awards.
Amy Brose received her award, unusually, at a BCEP lecture at Jackson Middle School: “All those brand-new people being introduced to the Mazamas at that lecture got to see someone get an award that took ten years of hard work and fun. I'm hoping maybe it inspired a few of the BCEP students to aim high and climb a bunch out of BCEP when they were done.”
There may also be an expectation that the awards are automatically assigned in the Mazama website, like other badges. This may be an eventual option, but for now members must still request the awards.
But few of these factors can fully account for the long-term decline since the 1970s. What about cultural and generational factors? Certainly, there are other outdoor sports attracting our attention: trail running, ultra-marathoning, rafting, mountain biking, and of course rock climbing. “The 16 Peak Award just isn't the grail it once was,” says Rick Craycraft (16 Peaks, 1994). “First off, the world seems to be being taken over by rock climbers, and the patience and commitment about waiting through possibly years of climbing to get the award is not in fashion like it once was.” One could also point to a society-wide decline in civic organizations, and to the ability of recognition-seekers to post their accomplishments on social media.
Still, other climbing organizations manage elaborate lists of peaks and dole out pins, badges, plaques, and even paperweights for member climbing achievements – the Mountaineers give awards for about 30 different peak lists, the Sierra Club at least 16. Many climbers avidly pursue summit groupings—there are hundreds detailed on the website peakbagger.com.
But the 16 is no ordinary list. It bears a special relationship to the Mazamas, embedded in its history—and not without controversy. Time for a little history.
Guardians and Majors
Like other organizations, the early Mazamas loved regalia, and awarded special rings, shoulder patches, emblems, and insignia for various accomplishments. Summits were rewarded with satin ribbons printed with the mountain's name and date of climb from at least the 1910s; in 1932 these became the familiar parchment certificates.
Climbing awards for multiple summits started with a book: John H. Williams’s Guardians of the Columbia, published in 1911, an illustrated volume extolling the beauty of Mts. Hood, Adams, and St. Helens. Within two years, the Mazamas were awarding Guardian Peaks badges, a satin ribbon with the mountains’ names and date of climb in gold lettering.
The expansion of the climbing awards came along with the birth of the Climbing Committee in 1934–35. Until then, all “climbs” occurred during the Annual Outing, a mass excursion to the foot of Mt. Adams, Mt. Rainier, or some other locale for a weeks-long encampment marked by nature walks, campfire theatricals, folkloric reenactments, singalongs, and, yes, climbing. Any other hike or a climb came under the jurisdiction of the Local Walks Committee. As the demand for climbing ramped up, Local Walks was unable to train enough qualified climbing leaders, and Mazama members were organizing their own “outlaw” climbs.
To staunch this trend, the Mazamas set up a Climb Committee; among its early actions was to supplement the Guardian award with awards for Seven Oregon Cascade Peaks and Fifteen Major Northwest Peaks (Mt. Stuart was soon added). The motivation was simple; as committee chair John D. Scott bluntly put it: “It should be carefully noted that these Mazama awards are not given merely for making a certain number of specified ascents,” he wrote in 1940. “The mountains are free and anyone of average mountaineering ability can climb all of them. The awards are offered as a direct inducement to promote group climbing sponsored by this particular [organization].”
The committee spent significant time hashing out the associated paraphernalia, settling eventually on “emblem sleeve patches made of blue felt, with one, two or three gold starts”—replaced later with parchment certificates. The 16 Peak awardees also received a bronzed metal plaque picturing the 16 peaks and mounted on a wooden base.
The new awards were a hit. As Scott later put it, “The rank and file of [Mazama] climbers took to the award idea like ducks to water. The number of individual ascents registered on the official climbs jumped from a little over 200 to some 350 in a single year.” (Despite the goal of promoting official climbs, a certain number of private climbs counted if long as two members attested to the summit, or if you climbed with another federated outdoor club.)
The 16 were hardly a random selection. Eleven are lofty volcanoes, two are crumbling but dramatic volcanic cores, and the other three are glaciated peaks that dominate significant areas. With the exception of Mt. Olympus and Glacier Peak, they are all landmarks visible from many of the region’s highways and towns. Even today, with more roads and a thoroughly explored backcountry, few would dispute their exceptional stature.
As it happens, the 16 also encompass a wide range of climbing experiences. Seven include glacier travel, six have low-grade technical rock, and three involve both. Two require multi-day approaches; two ascend into the thin air of 14,000 ft. Four can be considered non-technical, accessible to those with limited training.
Significantly, most of the 16 were well known from previous Annual Outings, and all offered reasonable access for the era. In fact, they comprised the vast majority of official climbing objectives through the early 1950s. In a typical year, 1940, only ten official climbs were offered—each attempting one of the 16.
Only 20 members earned the 16 Peak award in its first decade, and it typically required 20 or more years to complete the set. As the climb schedule grew, the time and effort required plummeted, and during the 1960s and 70s upwards of 80 members received Guardian Peaks awards annually, and 16 Peak awards averaged ten per year.
Despite the subsequent decline in award numbers, there’s a reason the 16 persist as a recognized goal, says David Zeps. “There are, of course, much more difficult peaks (and routes) in the Northwest. But the 16 majors are achievable with persistence, reasonable effort, and relatively low risk, so represent a worthy goal for Mazama members.”
But there’s always been some discord about the honors. John D. Scott addressed the divide directly: “There are always some purists in the out-of-doors fraternity,” he wrote in We Climb High (1965). “There are mountaineers who are revolted by the idea of gaining an award for climbing. But the vast majority of us (ignoble mortals!) are more than willing to pursue a lovely award.”
In 1926, an award for climbing the five Oregon peaks over 10,000 feet was proposed, as well as a “Guardians” association within the organization; in response, L. A. Nelson argued that awards would push unqualified climbers into danger and result in loss of life. “When mountain climbing becomes a contest and not a sport, dire results are sure to follow,” he wrote in a letter to the Bulletin “A mark of distinction for achievement in mountaineering is all very well, but it should be a reward and not an objective.”
In 1954 the Climb Committee expanded the awards, authorizing a 10-Peak award, adding a 25- and 50-Peak award a decade later, and capping it off with a 100-Peak award (awarded only four times) in 1971; recipients received a parchment certificate, a silver Mazama emblem pin, a gold pin, or a bronzed plaque (picturing, oddly enough, Sinister and Dome peaks). In 1974, the committee voted unanimously to discontinue all of these, citing the excessive time their support consumed, and noting that “the question of worthiness of a particular peak does not arise with the traditional peaks.” Only the 16 had the undisputed status for an award.
The expansionist urge did not go away. In 1994, Richard Denker proposed a “Second 16” award, submitting a list of peaks that included also-rans like Thielsen and Broken Top as well as higher-end goals like Forbidden, Challenger, and Bonanza. In declining the suggestion, then–Climb Committee chair Doug Wilson responded that “even today there are a great many members that would like to see all climbing awards done away with because they feel that climbing should simply be for the joy and outdoor experience, not as a means of recognition or for plaques and certificates.” The current award system, he wrote, “reflects [Mazama] history and allows interested people to set climbing goals without showing an undue emphasis on awards.”
Reconsidering the 16
But having just three awards based on a single list also has its downsides, especially for impressionable beginning climbers. “Not being able to get on climbs is a common member complaint,” Joe Whittington says, “But it's primarily the 16 peaks climbs that folks are upset about not being able to do.”
With fewer climbs on the schedule and the difficulty of getting permits, “it seems a shame to only prioritize the 16 peaks,” says Amy Brose. “There are so many wonderful mountains that made me a much better mountaineer that aren't on that list. Eldorado is still my very favorite climb, I've done it many times, and anyone who has done it with me just fell in love with the climb. It's sometimes a shame that other awesome climbs that aren't the 16 peaks aren't added as much as they should be to the schedule.”
The original 16 served in part to expand the Mazamas’ focus beyond the Guardians to include the greater Cascades; now, ironically, it might be restricting our vision. In his “Second 16” proposal, Richard Denker made a point of including peaks in southeast Oregon, the Wallowas, and British Columbia. (Richard has also compiled a list of Oregon peaks over 7,500 feet with a 1,000 feet gain on all sides, then climbed/hiked all of them, writing an unpublished manuscript about the effort.)
Climb leader Daniel Mick is more blunt: “Are we loving and protecting all the mountains, or just 16 of them?” Daniel is concerned about the rush to climb the same peaks and the consequences of honoring only a limited list. “63 percent of the 16ers are C climbs,” he points out. “That’s out of reach for a lot of Mazamas.” And too many are simple volcano slogs with low fun factors.
Several 16 Peakers acknowledge the limitations but found motivation in other peak lists—no Mazama award needed. “I think the awards are great, but we probably do not need to expand the list,” says Joe Whittington. “There is a website, Peakbagger.com, where people who are into this can record their climbs and receive recognition. It's also a great resource for planning climbs.”
After completing the 16, Joe pursued the 50 state high points, falling just short on a Denali summit day; David Zeps managed to complete the list on his 70th birthday. Doug Wilson, who thought the Mazamas supported enough lists, went on to complete the Rainier National Park 100 and the difficult 100 Mountains of Japan. Rick Craycraft has been inspired by the Colorado 14ers, the Sierra Club Desert Peaks, Jeff Smoot’s Climbing Washington's Mountains, and several other lists.
The Future of Climbing Awards
But there are many who think the Mazamas should honor more climbing accomplishments. Richard Denker thinks awards are a significant motivator. “Years ago, when the Mazamas had a whitewater program, I went on several Mazama raft trips. I remember [talking] about having a whitewater award for those who navigated the Northwest rivers. The consensus was that it would boost interest in the whitewater program. The Mazamas are moving from a climbing club to [an organization] with diverse activities. A set of awards for hiking and any other activity the Mazamas sponsors may help to keep and grow membership.”
Our survey of 16 Peak recipients yielded plenty of suggestions:
Josh Lockerby (16 Peaks, 2008): “I do think some additional awards should be created for those who maybe don't care so much for the technical exposure—like a list of A and/or B level peaks. Another thought is number of years active—which is not a bad goal at all.”
Tim Scott proposes a unique idea: “I'd like to see a 10-, 25-, 50-Mile High Award, based on the elevation gained from trailhead to the summit on a Mazama climb.”
Ann Ames suggests keeping 16 as a numerical goal but not the summits: “I would love to see a selection of peaks beyond the famous 16 that climbers could choose from for their 16 successful Mazama climbs. There are so many equally/more challenging peaks to climb in our beautiful Northwest, it might be nice to cast a wider net. This would also incentivize climb leaders to expand their offerings to less well-known peaks but 16 Peak worthy.”
Bob Breivogel thinks there’s room for additional lists or awards. He’d include climbs like Mts. Logan, Daniel, Thielsen, and Matterhorn Peak, with perhaps another list for technical rock peaks, like Triumph, Liberty Bell, Forbidden, Redoubt, and Prusik.
Richard Denker says “a walk-up [hiking] award may be appropriate. That list might have some overlap, it could include Mount St. Helens, but also other lesser peaks of the Northwest, such as Strawberry Mountain, Rock Creek Butte, and Sacajawea Peak.”
Daniel Mick’s Proposal
No one is more outspoken on awards expansion than Daniel Mick, who views it in terms of the Mazama mission: To build a community that inspires everyone to love and protect the mountains. He wants our awards to:
■ Recognize climbers of all skill levels, including non-BCEPers, who may be intimidated by technical challenges.
■ Reduce the frustration of beginners overly focused on the 16, and unable or unqualified to get on those climbs.
■ Encourage climbing in diverse ranges, especially outside restricted permit zones.
His initial proposals are directed at climb leaders. In place of the somewhat obscure system behind the 5-, 10-, and 15-Point Awards, he suggests awards based on total number of summits and total number of unique summits, adjusted for climb grade and type, and perhaps total number of climbers on their trips. Rewarding variety might relieve some of the burnout of leaders who feel pressure to lead and re-lead the 16. He also stresses adding more A-level climbs and climb leaders, with a goal of building a broad foundation for beginners to enter meaningfully into Mazama programs.
After leader awards he’d want new awards accessible to novice climbers, including scrambles and even trail trips.
“There are a lot of possibilities to explore. Any peak can be climbed in a more difficult manner. In central Oregon, there are a lot of buttes with trails to the top, but you get onto the back side, you might find a nasty, gnarly scramble.”
Ideally, the awards could be bestowed automatically through the Mazama database, like other badges, rather than applied for; this would sidestep the reluctance many climbers feel about achieving recognition. A physical token—a pin, a ribbon, a plaque—could be given upon request.
Daniel has lists of 38 peaks in Oregon and 165 in Washington he considers worthy of recognition; most are A-level climbs. But he’s also interested in awards for the broad array of peak-bagging lists: high points, prominence, etc. And perhaps recognition for extreme accomplishments as well.
Any awards expansion would of course require a lot of effort from limited staff and busy committees. And many decisions: Would all climbs or hikes still have to be official? If not, would verification be needed? Could the awards be granted automatically, or still only upon request?
Is our database sufficient to track multiple lists?
The urge to climb most often begins with what we see: so many climbers start out just wanting to climb Mt. Hood. If a list on a napkin can somehow encourage further adventures, that’s a good thing. If more lists can “gameify” the selection process, that’s not necessarily bad. Because whatever odd prompts drive us into an adventure, in the end it’s the actual experience that will stay with us.
“Looking back, the journey was far more rewarding than the awards themselves,” says Josh Lockerby. “Are the awards needed? I know there are those who never aspired for them, but I do think having such goals available pushes a lot of us into that great experience.”
