4.10.2017

Don't Forget the Lettuce: A Brief History of BCEP

This spring, many newly minted Basic Climbing Education Program (BCEP) students will be signing their climb cards, anxious to test their skills for the first time. The south side of Mt. Hood will be the first “real” climb for many of them. When thinking about this, I was struck with a question that seemed both elemental and obvious. What did the first BCEP graduation climb look like? To answer it, I dove into the Mazama archives with the expert assistance of Mathew Brock, Mazama Library & Historical Collections Manager.

As is often the case, the precise origins of things are sometimes difficult to pin down. Randall Kester, a Climbing Committee chairman, started the forerunner of the current program in 1943. It was a series of eight classes and four field sessions that began in February and ran until June. Unfortunately World War II ended his attempts to initiate a program, and it was not until 1950 that Warren Wilson picked up the effort. Son of a former Club president and chairman of the Climbing Committee which had been formed sixteen years earlier, Wilson resumed the efforts to bring formal climbing education to the Mazamas. Initially there were six classroom and eight field sessions. Attendance topped 150 participants. However, it wasn’t until 1956 that the program, as we would currently recognize it, finally emerged.

It was under the watchful eye of William (Bill) Oberteuffer that we finally got what might be considered the first truly “BCEP” program. It is impossible and unnecessary to recount the full richness and complexity of his life here. However, I would strongly recommend reading his biography, held in the Mazama library, titled, Gazing Down From The Mountain: The Story of William H. Oberteuffer. In the fall of 1937, at the age of eighteen, Oberteuffer rode on horseback from Portland to Tijuana, Mexico with his cousin Bob and friend Bud. They were only joined for part of it by Oberteuffer’s father. A decade later, he would begin a high school teaching career in science that would span 32 years. He once recounted about his teaching practice, “Always wishing to give my students the most say and being less than sure of my own rightness, I discussed with my class what the course structure might be for about a week. We eventually wound up with about 15 areas of possible study most of which fell within my area of expertise and were possible from the standpoint of time and materials. The students then voted on the 7 or 8 most popular suggestions and these then became our course content. (This is teaching democracy by doing it.)”

In the winter of 1969, Bill and his wife, Margaret, requested a sabbatical and spent nearly all of 1970 and 1971 backpacking around the world. His expansive climbing career had begun when he was in college. He once observed, “My professor had climbed so he loaned me his ice axe and crampons, and I climbed Mt. Hood with Margaret, Moshe Lensky, Dave Raffety, and Gil Staender (the godfather of Smith Rock) who was in high school, and was the guide ... On that first climb, Gil Staender taught us all self-arrest on the way up.” I note all of this because, as every BCEP student knows, the instructors—their stories, their personalities, and their lives—richly and fully define the experience of their students. It must have been astounding to learn under the watchful tutelage Oberteuffer.

As evidence of his diligence, the teaching notes from that first BCEP course are still in the archives and even include instruction on how to speak in a manner that is clear and effective during lectures. These sessions, held at the Oregonian Hostess House, began on April 30, and they culminated with a graduation climb of Mt. Hood on June 10 and an “examination” two days later at the Mazama club house. Topics for the dozen sessions would feel familiar to present-day BCEP students. Lectures included wilderness travel, equipment, snow climbing, glacier travel, weather, and rock climbing. As well, there was a presentation by a Dr. Charles Dotter on “Climbing Miseries,” which would prove to be surprisingly prescient given the events of the graduation climb. All of this, as well as a conditioning hike and outside rock practice, was coordinated under Oberteuffer’s leadership. Students were given all kinds of sage advice including this gem about nutrition on climbs: “Many persons are subject to an acid stomach during a climb. Avoid rich, concentrated, fatty foods (chocolate, nuts, etc.). Simple sugars are good because they digest easily and produce water during oxidation. Avoid eating snow or drinking ice water fast. Fresh grape-juice may be carried in your canteen. Suggestions for lunch: Two sandwiches (with lettuce), cookies, oranges, and candy (such as caramels or fruit lozenges).”

Enrollment was 447 students that first spring, and 28 Boy Scouts or Explorers and 11 Girl Scouts were in that first group. Perhaps these numbers were so high because enrollment was free to all who registered—500 would initially sign up—and the course was advertised in local high schools and colleges (note: Mazama Membership was 1,086 in 1956). Although Oberteuffer was never in the army himself, he took cues from the military when running field sessions where assistant instructors were managing between 80 and 130 students at a time. To do this, they wore colored arm bands so that the participants would know who to report to and when.

When the graduation climb came on June 10, there were 161 participants. Each had been provided with an equipment list of required gear: “Waterproof boots, nailed or heavy lug soles—no slick soles allowed. Adequate clothing (prepare for rain, intense sun, high wind, temperatures down to 25⁰, mittens, sun goggles, canteen, small packsack, woolen socks (plus extra pair), mountain lunch (from home), crampons (must fit properly), pocket mirror, ice axe, sunburn preventative, flashlight.” At the time, there were two primary places in Portland to procure the tools for mountain climbing—the Mountain Shop and the Beebe Company. The former still serves many of the same needs and customers; the latter still exists in Portland but now has a decidedly different clientele. Participants spent that night at the Mazama Lodge where dinner cost $1.20, the midnight snack was $.50, and lodging for members was $1.00 (an extra $.20 for non-members). The climbing fee itself was just $1.50, with some exceptions where it was only $1.00.

Only 11 participants summited that day, which seems like an appallingly poor success rate for the graduation climb of this first BCEP class. Oberteuffer’s notes provide a hint as to why. In his report filed after the climb, he noted of the weather: “Lighting, fog, hail, blizzard.” Undoubtedly it is forgivable that so many failed their first time. He also noted the following: “With 161 in the climbing party, we broke party into 2 separate groups with a leader and 3 assistants each. Then to ‘share the wealth’, the total ‘financial support’ due these 8 leaders was divided among 17 leaders and rope leaders who had participated generously in the climbing school.” It sounds like the philosophy that he espoused as high school teacher carried through to this moment as well. He allowed, perhaps even required, the students become the leaders and to own their experiences.

Later in life, Oberteuffer was asked if he had ever done anything wrong on a mountain. He recounted this very graduation climb on June 10 of 1956: “We divided up into two main groups, Erwin Reiger and I as main leaders. Weather deteriorated all the way up. We got to the lower hot rocks, where it was snowing hard. We should have gone down. I asked if anyone wanted to go to the summit under these conditions. Don Eastman wanted to go, Jim Craig, about 7 or 8 guys want to, so I said OK, and appointed a guy to go down with the others. Reiger also went down. Weather was bad at the base of Crater Rock, with stinging snow. We went up a new route around the end of the crevasse, the chute, didn’t sign the register, turned around and went down. I couldn’t see the crevasse but I sensed it, went around it, and got to the hot rocks. One guy had hypothermia, a husky, young fellow, not dressed properly, starting to stumble. Two folks took him and got him to a snowcat. All was OK, but it was something I didn’t need to do. It was a challenge I guess.”
For all those BCEP students who will be packing their packs this spring for their “real” mountaineering climb, I would encourage you to think about this first group. Consider the advice to add lettuce to your sandwich. Wonder at the hundreds of students who bought their first ice ax from the Mountain Shop. Compare the electrolytes that you may add to your water bottle against the grapefruit juice in their canteens. Continue to question your climb leaders about their lives and experience—and,yes, even their choices. And remember that, even in 1956, BCEP students were being reminded to make sure that their crampons fit properly before they left home.


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