It is said that once you know basics of golf, game is 90% mental. And so it is with life. If you think you can make shot, you probably will. If you think you can't, you're right as well. To become a better player, you must learn what you can and can't do. And if there are shots that you can't make right now, practice them until you believe you can do it.

Most golfers will remember best round they ever played. I'm no different: it was a round of 84 (at handicap of 18) on a par 72 course. And if I must say it myself, I played darn well! And so many of us relive glory days. Instead of moving on and continually striving to improve, we just sit around and talk about good old days.

Topped by snow and glaciers, Mount Shasta rises up above everything else when you approach it from north.

As soon as I saw it, I wanted to be up there. We were coming south from Oregon, after driving across country from Michigan. A detour to northern California before heading home seemed like a good idea to both of us.

"I wonder if we could climb it?" I asked. John just nodded his head quietly, agreeing not to climb, but to fact that he was wondering same thing. I checked map. Mount Shasta is 14,162 feet above sea level. I liked idea of climbing that high.

"Have you ever climbed a mountain," John asked me. I thought about it for a while. "Not really. A lot of hills though."

Mount Shasta City

"Oh yes," old woman at visitor's center told us, "people climb Mount Shasta all time." John pointed out glaciers on map she had given us. "Oh, well, did you bring crampons and ice axes?" John looked at me, and I could only say, "I've heard of these things."

We did have some gear: backpacks, sleeping bags, and a tent. John had good hiking boots, but mine were more like high-top shoes. Neither of us had ever used crampons or an ice axe, so we went few blocks across town to see what guy at climbing store had to say.

"Have you done any climbing before?" he asked us.

"A little," I answered, remembering buildings we used to climb on as teenagers, and rocks we had recently scrambled up in Oregon. I figured we were ready for Mount Shasta.

"Well, you can't put crampons on those boots," he said to John, "and you sure can't put them on those," he told me, shaking his head at my shoes. Crampons apparently need rigid boots - our mountaineering lesson of day. We could rent them, but only if we rented real mountaineering boots also. "And you'll need ice axes, of course." I felt a pain in my wallet.

Backpacking On Mount Shasta (Too Poor For Climbing)

A speeding ticket in North Dakota had strained budget, and Mount Shasta was another detour from route and budget. We could, we decided, hike up mountain and do a little backpacking. Still, I had to ask, "Do people climb Shasta without gear?" The store owner realized that sale was lost.

"It's been done," he answered impatiently.

"It's been done," I reminded John as we drove up road to Mount Shasta. He didn't answer, which was a good sign. I watched Pine trees go by, and absentmindedly poked a finger through a hole in my shoe.

"Old Ski Bowl Trailhead," John said. I looked over at sign. "7,900 feet." We were at trailhead, along with forty other cars, and it was early enough to hit trail.

Mount Shasta Poop Bags

We looked at registration forms, and had a decision to make. There was a $10 fee to hike or climb above "Horse Camp," at 8,400 feet. John pointed to a pile of paper bags, each with a handful of cat litter in it, and a plastic bag to put it in. These were for carrying our excrement off mountain, a requirement above 10,000 feet. That clinched it. We put $10 each in envelope and dropped it in slot. We couldn't pass up opportunity to poop in a bag in mountains. I took two for myself, in case of good luck.

An easy trail took us to hut and spring at Horse Camp. We filled our water bottles. The dayhikers looked up at mountain through cameras, while climbers cooked noodles and discussed weather reports. They looked at my shoes and smiled at each other when I mentioned we might climb Mount Shasta.

After Horse Camp trail gets steeper and rockier. The trees end at about 8,500 feet, leaving only grasses, flowers, and other tundra plants. Then trail gets lost in rocks just before steep climb up to Helen Lake.

Wind And Rain At Helen Lake

There is no lake. Helen lake is a more-or-less level area of snow and ice. At edge, overlooking Horse Camp far below, there are dusty clearings in rocks where climbers camp. We found an empty spot and we set up camp. The wind was howling. We were at 10,440 feet.